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pxgeturner · 1 year

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keep you safe. keep you mine.

ghostface!miguel o'hara x reader. prologue.

you're a junior in college and you have a totally awesome boyfriend in the master's program. a girl from your school is murdered and your boyfriend is there to make sure you feel safe (college/uni!au as if its not obvious)

an. I've had this idea in my head for like a month. executive dysfunction is a little bitch so i've onlyy been able to sit down n write this today. I wrote part of it a work but most of it within the last hour. (it’s currently a bit past midnight on the first of october) which if u have been here for a while, know that’s v surprising for me. i really wanted this to be posted on the first of the month but what can u do. i’m just gonna queue it atp. this isn't very action packed bcz it's just a prologue. but im soooo excited. also, r is latina coded but can be read from any ethnic standpoint. also this has not been proofread.

warnings: r has a panic attack, mentions of death (slightly graphic description of a dead body)

wc. 1.2k

you can’t change the channel. you don’t know why. but you can’t. a girl from your university was killed just about an hour ago. you were going to turn on the run of practical magic that started about half an hour ago. you just keep watching the news-lady rehash the same information over and over again. the killer all but turned the poor girl inside out. she’s in your finance class. you worked on a group assignment with her. she’s one of those girls who tries to maintain the hierarchy of high school in college. which is total bullshit, you’re third years for crying out loud! she’s passive aggressive, sure, but she should’ve had so much more time to grow. so you’re sitting there. bundled in blankets, not able to press the button on the remote.

PING!

something hits the sliding glass door to the back porch. you don’t want to become chopped liver. so you stay in your seat. a few minutes pass, you think, and no more noise, so you turn back to the tv.

thud thud. you ignore it, keeping my eyes on the screen.

then my cell starts to ring. you jump in your seat, and search for it, lost in the blankets. It’s miguel. you pick up the call.

“hey mickey, you scared me.”

“sorry, baby. mind opening the door? It’s a little fresh out here?”

“the slide door?”

“yeah,”

you untangle myself from the blankets and approach the glass. you turn on the outside light, and it’s him. you unlock the door and let him in. he kisses your cheek as he comes in. “hey, angel,”

“hey yourself,”

“where are your parents?” you shut the door

“concert, pop surprised mama with tickets to a merengue singer. gloria something.”

he nods and comes in to hug you. “how’s your night been angel? The news is on? why’s it still playing?” he strokes your hair “you know if you keep watching this fear mongering shit it’s gonna just make you anxious, baby.”

“yeah…” you melt into him, feeling safe with your big strong boyfriend here. “can you stay the night?”

“’course baby. anything for my sweet girl.” he leads you back to the couch, “what do you want to watch?”

“practical magic, but it’s already running.”

“don’t you have the dvd?”

“OMG YES” you jump out of your seat and dash over to the tv stand, opening the dvd stash drawer. “HERE IT IS” you wave it around in triumph before inserting it into the player.

once you’re back on the couch your boyfriend goes “if you have it on dvd why would you watch it on cable?”

you pout at him “it felt special. like they were playing it just for me. it was the perfect time.”

he shakes his head and chuckles, “you’re just too cute, baby.”

…

“she talked shit about you, y’know.” gwen says after she tossed a penny into the fountain.

“what?” the two of you start walking to the dining hall

“that girl, ava whatever? she was in my drawing class after your finance class with her. she like, thought you were obsessed with her.”

you stop in your tracks. “wait. what the fuck?”

she steps back and turns to face you. “yeah. i didn’t tell you because i figured if she never said anything to your face it wouldn’t be a big issue.”

“ok…” this is confusing “a: what did she say and b: why are you telling me this?”

“she said you’d stare at her. and that you look like you look like a… what did she say?… ‘a brainless mutt’ and other shit. she only said shit like that a couple times. and i ripped her a new one both times.” she gestures for you to keep walking. you realize today they probably have pizza and she wants to get there before they run out. “i’m telling you this so you don’t feel too bad. she wasn’t some innocent soul, she was a bitch. you’re so nice. but i don’t want you wasting your emotions on her.”

you think about all this information as you two walk. you never really liked ava. she totally thought of herself as a queen bee, and that’s so icky. the class you had together is tiered with semi-circular layout. you sat at one end, and she did at the other. when you space out, you guess it might seem like staring, but, like. what the hell?

and then you see miguel. he’s in a booth with peter, mj, and miles. you and gwen go up to the table.

“hey, angel”

“hi mickey,”

“they have soup, got some for you. cranberry juice too.” your favorite food and your favorite juice? he’s heaven.

you smile so big it almost hurts.

“did you get me food?” gwen asks miles

“i- uh, didn’t know what you wanted,” gwen glares at him– it’s a joke but when you’re on the other end it doesn’t feel like it. “-but there’s plenty of pizza left! i haven’t gotten food yet. i wanted to wait for you.” gwen smiles and offers him her hand. the two of them leave and you slide into the booth, next to miguel.

“how was break?” peter asks.

“it was good! love being with my family as usual.”

“and miguel, i’m sure,” mj winks playfully.

“i was at my parents house!”

“and miguel went over every time you offered.” peter says before taking a sip of his coffee.

“he’s so in love with you. it’s an obsession.” mj jokes.

miguel drapes his arm round your shoulder exaggeratedly. “gotta keep my girl safe, there’s some freaks who’d want to hurt her.” you elbow him lightly to tell him to stop joking like that.

somewhere along the line after gwen and miles get back, the subject changes to them trying to convince you and gwen to go to graduate school.

“you’re so smart! You could study classical literature! or ethical studies! or ethnic studies! genders studies.”

“oh my god parker please stop throwing studies in my face. i’m so happy y’all are having a good time in the master’s program. and i’m so glad that miles is planning to go do that kind of path too,” you lean back, head supported by miguel’s arm. “i just have no desire to be a career academic. by the time i graduate i’ll have spent seventeen years of my life on education. After i get that diploma i just want to write.”

“and that’s exactly what you’re gonna do, doll.”

a few days later, and the weekend has arrived. you’re in miguel’s room, a tim burton film playing as you two cuddle.

the movie gets drowned out by the sound of an alarm, coming from your phones. it’s an emergency alert from the police. someone else has been found dead. someone from your school. your breath turns shallow and a lump forms in your throat. you’re crying. you can’t breathe. everything is blurry. your chest feels heavy. miguel holds you, whispering in your ear reassurances. he’d never let anyone touch you. you’re safe. nothing bad is ever going to happen to you. he’s here to protect you.

thank god you have miguel to protect you from everything evil outside.

#my writing #miguel my love #scream #ghostface!miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara #ghostface!miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x you #atsv #accross the spiderverse #atsv miguel #atsv x reader

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bbygirlpascal · 2 years

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Just Being Neighborly (Joel Miller (played by Pedro Pascal) x Fem Reader)

18+ NSFW: Please don't interact with my account/posts if you are under 18.

Note: I'm picturing Pedro's Joel Miller (obvi).

Summary: Newly moved into the neighborhood, you and your neighbor from across the street, Joel, become...friendly. :)

Saturday’s were your favorite day of the week. Getting to sit out on your porch and watch the birds and bugs fly by in the warm air, pure bliss. You sat there almost in a daze, enjoying the quiet of the neighborhood and sipping on your cocktail. The familiar sound of Joel’s truck coming down the street grabbed your attention.

Ever since you moved in a couple months ago, you and Joel are either outside at the same time, or you both end up running into each other somehow. He pulled into his driveway giving you a wave out of the truck window as he turned in. You could see Sarah in the back with her headphones in, in her own little world and you smiled to yourself.

“Hi neighbor,” Joel said with a smile and walked his way over to your porch, resting his arms on the top of the railing in front of you. “What have you been up to? I haven’t seen you in a bit.”

“Oh you know, just working. Keeping the dog busy and keeping myself busy, or at least trying to,” you said with a smile. “How’s Sarah?” you asked him, glancing over at her walking into the house across the street.

“She’s doing good, been working really hard at school,” he said and smiled, “Do you need someone up here to keep you company? I've got nothing going on today.”

You were taken aback, but squealing on the inside. “Of course, I’d love some company. Come on in, I’ll fix you something to drink.”

You padded into the house, and Joel came in behind you. “I’m drinking an old fashioned, you want one?” he looked up at you and a hint of surprise was across his face.

“A girl after my own heart. Yes, please,” he said, “You know, if you need any help in the house here, let me know. I can help you out with whatever you need.”

“I appreciate that, you work in construction right?”

“Mhm, been working in construction for as long as I’ve been able to work.”

“Admirable, I feel like I jump around from job to job all the time.” you said as you poured the ingredients into his glass, “Always looking for something new and exciting I guess,” you huffed and turned around towards him with his drink in hand. “For you, Mr. Miller,” you said with a smile.

He brought the glass up to his mouth and took a sip, “Exceptional, thank you darlin’,” he said and you felt your tummy flutter.

You both made your way out to the porch and sat down. You both chatted for a long time and Sarah eventually came over to let Joel know her friends would be there soon to pick her up for a sleepover. They came and she went. It started to get dark, and the conversation subdued a little, and a comfortable silence fell upon the porch. You were both drinking and you could feel it.

“I want to thank you for coming over here tonight, it’s been really nice talking with you,” you told him, looking down at your glass and up at his face.

“Don’t have to thank me, I’ve been crushin’ on you since the day you moved in,” he said.

“Oh have you? I haven’t quite gotten the memo,” you laughed and looked at him, his eyes softened.

“Ahh, you know, I’m a man of few words and didn’t want to scare you off. Y’know having a daughter and all.”

“That would never put me off, and anyone who would dismiss you because of that are missing out. Plus Sarah is great, you did good with her.”

He looked up at you with a smile, “How would you feel about me kissing you?” he said.

“I’d love that.”

He leaned into you and your lips locked. He tasted like liquor and smelled like clean laundry and musk. You wrapped your arms around his neck and scooted closer to him, your knees touching his. His hands started to explore your body, snaking around your waist, pulling you in even closer. He traveled his kisses down your neck and to your collarbones. You let out a breath as shivers peppered the skin he was nipping on.

“Let’s go inside,” you took his hand and led him into the house. He sat himself down on the couch and you got on top of him, one leg on either side of him. Open-mouthed kissing, letting the sound of your tongues tangling together filled the room.

You started grinding your hips against him, luckily you were wearing a dress, so your panties were in direct contact with his jeans. He slid one sleeve of your dress off your shoulder, letting it fall and exposing the top of your breast. He slide the rest off and attached his mouth to your nipple. Twirling his tongue around it, and popping it out of his mouth as he lowered your dress on the other side.

You tilted your head back, letting a hum escape your lips. “You like that darlin’,” he said to you, kissing his way back up your chest to your mouth. “You wanna lay down..?” he asked, you got off of him and laid back on the couch.

He lifted your dress up, exposing your panties and your wet pussy. “So pretty, so wet for me,” he said and ran his hand up your clothed slit, making you whimper.

“Please, Joel,” you panted, pushing your hips up toward him. He unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants and boxers. His cock was stiff and his tip was glistening with pre cum.

Pushing your panties aside, he rubbed his tip into your folds before slowly entering. You both let out a huff of air, enjoying the pleasure of each other. He continued slowly thrusting in and out of your sex, you could feel every inch of him stretching you out.

“You’re so tight baby, fuck,” he said breathlessly as he picked up the roll of his hips. The sound of skin on skin the only thing in your head. He grabbed your leg and lifted it up to rest on his shoulder, making his cock go as deep as possible. You had to grab onto the couch cushions as the pleasurable pain was almost too much for you to handle.

“I’m gonna cum Joel,” you said between breaths.

“Yeah, cum on my cock baby,” he said as you let out, he kept thrusting into you full force, making you scream. “Now let me see your pretty mouth around my cock.”

You got up, legs shaky and took him into your mouth. Gagging and sputtering as he held your hair and thrust his cock into your mouth. You could feel his cock twitch as his cum covered your tongue, you swallowed and got back up onto the couch. Still drunk, you looked over to him and he planted a kiss to your forehead.

“So, how about a date next week?” he asked.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic rec #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #the last of us hbo #hbo the last of us #the mandolorian #the last of us

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virgobabe91 · 1 year

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Mountainside

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I have a killer headache and no idea how I got out here naked in the middle of the woods.

My feet are burning cold, they’re covered in what possibly looks like blood with leaves and dirt caked onto them.

My hair was once in a clean braid, I remember that much at least. I was getting ready for bed, fresh out of the shower and too lazy to really style my hair so I dried it enough to throw in a quick braid before bed.

Did I run to the woods naked? I’m pretty sure I had my pjs on when I was braiding my hair.

My body aches and I don’t feel strong enough to even stand as I push myself to my feet. Unsure which way to go I just about start walking before I notice a man walking towards me.

“Hello?” I call out “can you help me I don’t know where I am? I live in Strathmore, can you show me where to go?” I attempt to cover myself with my arms and cross my legs at the knees to cover my lower half.

“Here. Not sure if they’ll fit but Madge will have my head if I take you to her naked.”

“What?!” I ask as I bend to grab at the clothing tossed at my feet. “Who’s Madge? I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t know you?”

I move to walk behind a thick tree to my left as I try to get dressed as quick as possible. A black long sleeve men’s shirt, no bra, and dark grey sweatpants, but no underwear is all he gave me.

“No socks?” I ask unamused.

“Be grateful I gave you anything. Now follow me, I’ve been waiting for a while now for you to wake up”

He turns and starts walking briskly and I’m stood there wondering if I follow him or not. I mean I guess I have no choice, I’d probably die in these woods if I try to make my way home. Even standing here I’m sure something will come along and chomp on me before then, I start walking, hoping I don’t lose him as he doesn’t seem to slow down.

After what feels like a good twenty minute walk the man stops before a small cave entrance carved into what looks like the beginning of a mountain. He waves his hand over some ruins above the cave and then walks inside. Again I don’t know where I am, so I follow him inside the cave.

There’s soft gravel that lines the walkway and inside the cave, small torches seem to line the inside down a tunnel.

We soon come to an end and I’m met with a beautiful sight. A crater shaped dip is hidden away by surrounding mountains and a village is slightly below us as he begins to lead me towards it. Tiny homes and large canvas tents are lit up, almost in a circle shape. the night sky is dark yet bright and every star in the sky seems to be out as a full moon lights our path towards a larger house, beautiful dark stained log house with a large circular window overlooking a porch is in view as the strange man points to the house “go there and knock on the door” he then turns and walks away.

“Wait, where are you going? Whose house is this?” I whisper before the large oak door clicks open.

“Hello, I’ve been waiting for you, come on in and get warmed up.”

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She is quick to make an excuse for the rude stranger as she welcomes me inside, pats me on the shoulder, then sits me down at a circular turquoise stained wooden kitchen table.

“Please excuse Harry, he’s a bit of a angry fellow. Has a good reason though I suppose, the love of his life died 4 years ago.”

The woman moves across the kitchen as she gathers a few items in her arms. Homemade sourdough bread, butter, and whatever is warming on the stovetop is scooped into a bowl she serves me. “Do you drink tea my dear?” I nod my head yes.

“Okay, I like to get to the point and rip the bandaid off quick, it’s the easiest way to get through the shock. My names Madge, you can call me aunty though, everyone here does. Eat and we can talk some more while we get to know one another.” After a tiny bit of reluctance I’m quick to reach across the table and graciously accept the food placed in front of me, I have such a deep hunger, feels like what she put on the table isn’t enough to fill me up.

“Why am I here?”

“How about we start with your name so I can better address you?!”

“Sorry, My names Y/N.”

“Well Y/N, you’re here because it’s a safe haven for our kind. I had Harry find you because I sensed you changed and I wanted to bring you here before something bad could happen to you.”

I dip the bread into the soup and take another bite before I stop and realize what she said. “what do you mean our kind?”

Madge purses her lips slightly. “Do you believe in the supernatural? Like witches, warlocks, vampires, sirens…werewolves?”

“I think it’s all movie magic, nothing like that could ever be real.” I chuckle as I scrap the bowl clean. Madge is quick to grab my bowl and refill it before she continues.

“Well my dear, it’s all real. Every last bit of it. This village you’re in is a hideaway for all magical folk. Mostly werewolves occupy here. Although we have the occasional witch or vampire residing in one of the cottages.”

I take a look around her cabin and notice the many Paranormal trinkets lining the walls and placed on top of cabinets, shelves, and tables.

“How do I know you’re not messing with me?”

Madge smiles and lifts her finger to point towards the tea kettle as it begins to steam on the cast iron stove top. The kettle whistles that it’s done and I watch as she drags her finger to move the kettle to the counter where she pours us both some hot water into our mugs she filled with tea leaves earlier.

I watch her smirk as she then twirls her finger and the honey and tea spoons are flown over from the shelf above the sink and they dance their way towards the middle of the table between us. Two hot mugs soon join as they settle gracefully unto the tea plates next to either of us.

“How did you do that?” I ask in awe.

“Well I’m a witch my dear, I take care of everyone here with my enchantments. Without me, our little area would be found by the humans. The ruins you passed on your way in here keep us out of sight from non magical folks, to anyone else we’re just a regular short cave system for them to graffiti and explore.

“What’s my place in all of this? I mean, I don’t understand why I was able to pass through the ruins?” I cup my tea with both hands as away to hide my shaking hands.

Madge stands up and pulls a large viridian coloured book from the top of her book shelf.

“This will explain better than I can. For now all I can tell you is that you shifted and I felt it. That’s why I sent Harry to find you.”

“Shifted?” I whisper as I start to thumb through the pages of the heavy book, This thing has to be at least 800 pages.

“Yes. I can sense when someone turns, I’ve been here just over 200 years now. I take care of the folks in this area. As the eldest of my coven I’m in charge of all the werewolves and supernatural that come in and out around this area. Well not the rogue ones. They’re not welcome here.”

“So I’m a supernatural being is what you’re telling me?”

“A werewolf to be exact!” She smiles.

“A werewolf? As in I howl at the moon and eat people?” I huff out. There’s no way I could eat a person I barely eat red meat as it is, Although I won’t say no to a medium rare steak.

“We won’t know what you present as for a while, sometimes it takes a few weeks, and for others around a year, but for now you’re safe here, you can have a room to yourself upstairs although I don’t like having alphas stay here, I don’t need their aggression messing up my home.”

I flip through the book and read small blurbs as Madge cleans the bowl and mug in the sink then dish rack.

“I’ll boil some water for a bath. You’ll sleep better when you’re clean and I’ll lay out some clothing for you that will be more comfortable than those rags, Harry knows better than to give guests such dirty mangy items.”

Madge leads me upstairs and points to her left “bathroom” then then right beside it “guest room, or your room” she flips the switch and the room lights up a pretty coral pink, very 90’s inspired decor with seashells and dried flowers decorating the walls.

She runs the copper claw foot tub, “there’s no hot water here, we boil our water the pipes will warm up in the spring and summer but autumn and winter we’re on our own”

She hands me a towel “I’ll set your night gown and clothes on your bed, take your time and I’ll wake you in the morning.”

“I tried waking her all morning, but I know she’ll be tired for a while still. Her first shift and learning everything will take a toll on her the first couple days. Could you pass me the garlic powder?”

Henry helps Madge with cooking the Sunday supper whenever he’s free and she’s always grateful for the help. Some Sundays she’s cooking for over 80 people so having a strong fella is definitely appreciated.

“I could try if you’d like? I’d like to meet her”

Henry offers as he lifts the bags full of potatoes from the wheelbarrow to the large wooden table.

“I’m sorry but no, I want her to feel safe here and having a strange man wake her up may not help. Just be patient she’ll be down sooner or later.”

Supper time starts at 7 pm when Madge is hosting. But of course Y/N doesn’t know that so when she tiptoes down the stairs she’s met with almost everyone, sat in their own spots throughout the house, in the community staring at her. Thankfully she’s no longer in the night gown Madge set out for her last night.

“Come Y/N, it’s a perfect time to meet everyone.” Madge stands and puts her hands on both of Y/N’s shoulders as she guides her to an empty seat at one of the tables in the dining room.

“Here you are, everyone! I’d you to welcome Y/N into our home. She shifted for the first time last night and is still taking this all in so please be patient with her and help her with any questions she may have.” Madge announces as she pushes my chair in. “Here Y/N on your right this is Niall, and your left is Henry.” I smile nervously to both of them before I noticed a familiar face. Harry is sat on the opposite side of the long table to the left of me. He gives me a once over then continues to stuff his face. Madge continues point and introduce me to other people around the table and other tables or chairs put in odd places throughout her house. almost everyone is kind in their greetings, some of them run up to me and pull me into a hug with a promise to be right there if they need me. Which I guess is nice in a way and I appreciate how they’re so accepting of me but I still really just want to go home.

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Madge sends me for a walk outside after dinner. I offered to help with cleaning up after everyone was finished but she gave me some sneakers to wear and shooed me outside.

I probably did a couple laps around her house before I ran into Niall who was just leaving Madge’s place.

“Not sure where to go? scared you’ll get lost?” He questions with a joking manner.

He seems to be friendly so I nod and walk closer him. “Not so much scared to get lost just not sure where I’m allowed to go? Can I walk anywhere here?”

“I can show you around. What’s your name again?” I smile and offer a handshake before I reply. “Y/N”

“Alright Y/N I’m Niall it’s a pleasure to meet you! How long have you had the gift?” He shakes my hand.

The gift? Is that what they call it? My body is so sore I want to dip myself into a ice cold lake and never come up and they call it a gift? “I don’t really know, I changed the first time last night I guess…”

“Oh well a newbie, we haven’t had one of those in a while, actually I think I was the last ‘newbie’ to join here must be 10 years ago I think” Niall smiles as he begins walking. He talks more about himself as he leads us west of Madge’s property, I’m careful to watch my surroundings so I don’t get lost and I can find my way back if needed. Niall explains how when he turned he was bitten by an female alpha outside the movie theatre, thought his date was kinky for biting so hard but then woke up naked in the woods like I had.

“Been here ever since. Don’t think Ill ever live anywhere else though it’s such a beautiful area.

I hum along as he leads me to his cabin. A perfectly square log cabin with a creek running beside it he says it leads to the lake on the far east end. “We use it to flood the farms for a faster irrigation and such” he explains as he pulls out two reclining lounge chairs and sets them for us to sit. “Want anything to drink? I think I have some Italian soda, tea, or water?” “Oh a tea sounds nice thank you”.

After Niall served us tea, we sat in the lounge chairs and I looked up at the night sky thinking of any questions I couldn’t ask Madge.

“So when can I go home?” I question.

Niall purses his lips and sighs “I’m not sure really, I think it depends on your condition”. “my condition?” I sat forward puzzled. Niall smiles “I mean, you only just changed. When I first transformed, Madge had me stay a couple months until I figured out my cycle.”

I sit back in my seat and look back up to the night sky “I can’t be gone for that long I have a cat that needs me and if I’m gone for too long he pees on my bed out of spite! And my job? I can’t lose my job my apartment is too much since my roomie moved out.” Do these guys even go online? Should I mention my online job?

“Whoa whoa Y/N don’t think about it too much, I’m sure Madge can send some of us to get your stuff. As for your job I’m sorry but I doubt you’ll be able to keep it especially until you figure out your cycle. I get that you’re worried, I worked construction and had to quit but I’m much more happier being the groundskeeper here it doesn’t pay nearly as much but I’m happy. We’ll find you a job here as well something that suits you”

We sit and chat some more about Niall and his life here and what he was like before he changed.

“”Hey Ni what are you doing tom- oh. You’re here” Harry walks up to us.

“I’m just leaving actually” I pronounce as I get up and fold my lounge chair and place it back beside the house like Niall had it. “Hey Y/N you don’t need to leave just yet, this was nice we can continue” Niall grabs onto my shoulder.

“No I should go, plus Harry here doesn’t seem to be a fan of me”

Harry turns away from us as Niall offers a hug and to walk me home but I decline and walk back towards Madge’s house.

“What’s your problem with her? She’s brand new here there’s no way you two got off to a bad start” Niall questions as he grabs the mugs and walks into his cabin. Harry follows behind “she feels like she’s trouble. Anyways, Madge wants us to go into the city and grab a couple things, some groceries and plumbing tools she lent out her tools again and no one’s returned them so she’s just going to buy new ones.” Niall turns to Harry and claps him on the shoulder. “Hey that’s perfect! Y/N needs some things picked up from her place I can get those for her then too, are we going to Strathmore?”

Harry puffs out his chest, “why do you want to help her? You like her or something?”

Niall chuckles “yeah I think I do, she seems like a nice girl. Worth trying anyways eh? How often do we get a single female werewolf in these parts?” Harry rolls his eyes and heads out the front door “I’m not interested. But I heard Henry is, so be ready for a fight if it comes to it. She’ll probably end up being another beta anyways omegas are rare so don’t get your hopes up to high, or go thinking you guys have an actual future together.”

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So I ended up changing lot of original beginning storyline I had planned out, but I have a better idea of where to go from here.

Also I wrote this on my phone in my notes app. Turns out I hate using a laptop lol so I sold it.

Chapter 2 will contain some smut, still unsure which male it’ll be though.

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles series #harry styles smut #werewolf #werewolf au #werewolves #werewolves au #niall horan #niall fanfic #werewolf!harry #henry cavill #werewolf!henry #werewolf!niall

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anika-ann · 2 years

Text

Love on the Brain - part 8

Ch8: Worthy

Type: MCU x Criminal Minds crossover series

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 6700

Summary: The team comes to the rescue; but confrontations are never simple. And neither is the truth.

Series masterlist

Warnings: series includes criminal behaviour such as stalking or kidnapping; graphic violence, gun violence; (mentions of) death; allusions to dub-con; possible PTSD and flashbacks; sexual innuendos and foul language. Loads of fluff and teasing.

I’m covering my bases here to make sure - probably sounds worse than it is. If you’re interested in specific warnings for individual chapters, let me know.

A/N: divider by @firefly-graphics; mind the WARNINGS in this one, they apply A LOT ❗❗❗

"It gives me strength to have somebody to fight for; I can never fight for myself, but, for others, I can kill."

— Emilie Autumn

During your studies and your time as an agent for the Behaviour Analysis Unit, not unlike throughout your whole life, you had learned that genuine interest could come a long way. Hearing people out and actually listening to what they had to say, caring, was the key to finding solutions to many of problems of mankind; mankind just often sucked at looking past their own porch, or the threshold of their own room.

You were aware that simple talking and feigning interest was most definitely not going to get you out of here – no amount of conversation could miraculously convince Bonnie to simply let you go. But so far it seemed to be working as a means of buying yourself time until someone who was in a better condition to get you out of this mess would.

You had no idea how much time you had bought to your team and even less of a clue whether it was and would be enough. Time flew when one was having fun; and it could really drag when you were talking to a psychically disturbed individual, while one of you were in handcuffs. And it wasn’t Bonnie.

Your arms were cramping as they remained in the same position, your fingers feeling as if slowly dying due to the limited circulation. The remnants of the drug circulating your system and rendering the world hazy still were not exactly adding to your comfort.

You almost had the complaint – and request to ease your suffering – on your tongue, feeling like you were doing a relatively good work of establishing trust since Bonnie even fed you a granola bar earlier, but you never got the change to tell her.

One moment, she was sitting opposite to you on a chair, talking about how she knew you were beginning to feel the same about her when you helped her stand up in training, Bills having just wept her feet from under her, the next second there was a beep and she was reaching for the keys of your cuffs.

You’d be thrilled if she hadn’t grabbed her gun too, stepping behind you and releasing only the cuffs tying you to the bed – and not the ones tying your hands together.

Your heart leaped to your throat, head spinning as she yanked you up; and nearly had you trip over your own feet when she released you unexpectedly. Gun raised, she gestured towards your arms.

“Slip your legs through the circle of your arms so they’re cuffed at your front. I know you can,” she ordered.

You followed the instruction, confused, but not keen on making her mad.

The fact alone that her behaviour changed so swiftly screamed danger – more so since it was on the basis of a single beep, a beep which indicated something you couldn’t even hope to gu---

It took your drowsy brain too long – but then the realization slammed into you like a freight train.

The cavalry is here.

The team must have somehow figured out who the unsub was and they were coming to your rescue.

Adrenalin flooded your veins as Bonnie stalked to you, not close enough to be in reach, an angry frown on her face – you finished the task, barely keeping balance as the cuffs dug into your lower wrists when you pulled your hips and left leg through.

Fuck you hated whatever she injected you with – the room was still swimming, your limbs feeling little jello-like despite the cramping in your arms. Yet you nearly cried in relief when the position of your shoulders changed slightly, hands at your front at last.

You didn’t have a full second to enjoy the feeling.

“Don’t move, darling,” Bonnie whispered, circling you slowly, the gun retaining a steady line of fire – aiming straight at you. Her left arm curled around your chest, pressing you to her front.

Her sudden hiss of outrage raised goosebumps in its wake as it tickled your neck.

She nudged you forward, nearly causing you to stumble again, before she spun around, walking you back towards the wall. That was smart. By the wall, she was protected: you from the front, a human shield, and the concrete from the back.

Briefly, she pointed her gun toward the entrances, ready to fire – then it frantically moved to your side, then back to the possible points of entry.

“How did they find us?” she demanded angrily, a note of panic in her voice – one that diminished yours a fraction, even as your pulse pounded in your temples.

She was losing composure – which was both good and bad. Trapped in a metaphorical corner, she was more likely to make a mistake. But it also meant she was likely to go down with her gun literally blazing.

But the team was here. You’d be fine.

This would be over in a minute; all they had to do was to convince Bonnie to surrender. Convince her that unless she did that, you would get hurt. After all, she showed you repeatedly that she didn’t want that, that only the circumstance forced her to do so.

Your breath hitched when a cold barrel of the gun was pressed to the side of your neck with a final decision.

Apparently, now the circumstance was forcing Bonnie to aim at your throat.

That was fine. You were going to be okay, she wouldn’t fire the gun. It was just tactics, she was readying herself to manipulate the team to leave. It was only natural and she would not actually pull the trigger.

Then why was your heart hammering in your chest, your carotid pulsing wildly against the unforgiving metal, panic squeezing your ribcage and making the world blurry and sharp at once? Why did you feel droplets of cold sweat gather at your brow?

Why did you wince when a familiar bulletproof gear with the big yellow letters spelling FBI entered your field of vision? Hotch, Emily, Reid. All from one side.

The other point entrance showed Natasha, her face laser-focused as she aimed straight between Bonnie’s eyes no doubt. And if Nat was here, you had no doubt that Clint was nearby, even if you couldn’t see him.

You took a wavering breath, trying your best to let the knowledge wash over you and settle the ever-rising panic, the frantic thump-thump-thump in your temples.

You’d be okay. You’d be fine-

Another figure entered at Natasha’s side and you felt your heart clench so hard it felt like a knife through your chest, pure horror seizing you.

Whatever Bonnie had injected you with now had to just metabolize into a substance causing hallucinations; it had to. Your mind must have been playing tricks on you.

He was beautiful. In his navy suit of armour, large in frame, sombre expression contrasting with a halo of golden hair for he forgone his helmet. A shield on his arm, gun in his right hand ready; he looked like an angel of vengeance.

His cerulean eyes were fixed on Bonnie, hard and calculating, not once flickering to meet yours. You could think of several reasons for that, but none of them mattered because if he was actually here-- what the fuck was he doing here?

Had he completely lost his mind at last? It was one thing to walk through the lobby of the Avengers Tower, where you, too, had in fact agreed he should not be anyway, but it was a whole new level to walk straight into the line of fire of a gun containing the one thing more likely to kill him than any other.

Hadn’t you had the very gun pointed at your throat, you would yell at him to get the fuck out of here.

You felt Bonnie behind you wince at the sight of Captain America too. Yep, no hallucinations. Gulping, you suddenly prayed that the barrel of the gun stayed on you. Life was funny that way, you supposed.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Reid stepping forward a bit, causing your captor to yank you closer, spinning you both to face him.

“Don’t come any closer!” Bonnie exclaimed, causing Reid to halt in his movement in an instant.

Your eyes met his, sharp and imploring at once. Unlike Steve, he reciprocated your gaze, the brown of his irises seemingly turning a warmer shade for a fleeting moment.

It almost, almost made you smile.

His hold on a gun never wavered as he looked at Bonnie again, voice levelled and rather kind. For a moment, you were brought back to all the times he talked an unsub down thanks to his capacity for compassion larger than life.

“Agent Stiles, my name is Spencer Reid-“

“I know who you are! Get out of here or I’m gonna shoot her!” she snapped back, tightening her grip on you, the gun now digging into your flesh.

Spence didn’t let it faze him; the only change visible was but a minute twitch of the corners of his lips, eyes large and almost innocent.

“I’m sorry, Bonnie, I can’t do that. You’re hurting my friend,” he said gently, making Bonnie sink her fingers into your shoulder. “You need to think about what you’re doing.”

“I am!”

“But are you really? You’re holding a gun to the woman you love and want to protect,” he opposed her patiently, drawing a small noise of despair from her.

“Isn’t that right? She’s so good, deserves so much love, loyalty…. You wanted to show her that Captain Rogers is easily distracted by other women, that she deserves better, didn’t you?” he continued, nodding towards the man in question.

Your frantic heart skipped a startled beat; you understood what Spencer was doing, showing he understood Bonnie, but--- did he really have to mention Steve? When he was right there, and the bullets were in the hands of an unsub in her damn endgame?!

Reid was damn lucky she was still focused on him; mesmerized even by his speech.

“She deserves better… someone like you, right?”

“Yes!” Bonnie cried out behind you, a small creak in her voice. “He’s just—he’s not good enough. Not worthy. He’d break her heart!”

“I would never-“ Steve defended himself, falling silent instantly when in a fraction of a second, you were being spun to face him.

Your stomach somersaulted in fear, panic squeezing you throat as you swallowed the cry clawing up to your mouth.

Oh God, GG, you fucking idiot, shut up, just shut up before you catch a damn bullet-

Hotch shot him a scolding look which Steve completely ignored in favour of finally meeting your eyes – a wordless apology for speaking up written all over his face, his set jaw tight.

He didn’t mean to ruin Reid’s efforts. But he was deeply offended at the mere notion of hurting you, because he couldn’t bear doing so; he never had, not in training, always quick to apologize and now… god, now. Now he unintentionally provoked the woman who had a gun at your neck.

You wanted to tell him you understood why he was outraged and that you believed him, that it was okay; but you were terrified that if you as much as whispered at a volume only his supersoldier ears would catch, Bonnie would notice and snapped.

Everyone was afraid of her snapping, of her violence; for a moment no one moved, no one spoke a word. Hotch’s glare moved onto you and even through the fog of your fear, it dawned to you he was the one to authorise Steve’s presence.

You were going to murder him. Later.

If you survived this.

Silence hung in the air, only interrupted by harsh breaths to your ear, laced by a low whine of frustration and helplessness. Your gaze flickered from Hotch to Steve and then to Reid, whose face remained unchanged, expertly hiding his mute horror that probably matched yours.

His gaze was imploring again; and for the shortest of moments, it seemed he was pleading you instead of Bonnie. And you understood. You knew that Bonnie’s rationality had flied out of the window a while ago, you knew that as well as Spence did, despite having tried to appeal to it earlier.

It was your turn.

“I understand now,” you whispered, catching Reid’s gaze for another fleeting moment, his barely noticeable nod. “I understand now, Bonnie. I told you I would listen. You showed me the truth. He’s not worthy. I mean look at him,” you scoffed, feeling her breath hitch.

You certainly didn’t look. You couldn’t; you knew your voice would break if you saw Steve wounded by the lies that were about to spill from your mouth.

“Look at him. He even let you snatch me right in front of his nose when I came to him, scared. But I understand now. I’m not scared of you anymore. I know you would never hurt me. You only injected me because it was necessary to bring me here and protect me from him.”

You had to close your eyes when your gaze strayed to Steve’s face, inevitably truly, because you had never succeeded in keeping your eyes off of him for long whenever he was in the room. The moment was enough to take note of how deeply your words cut him.

You wanted to beg him to understand, it had to be obvious to him, for god’s sake, he knew you, unlike Bonnie. Why would he believe anything you said when you were at a goddamn gunpoint?

But you couldn’t afford establishing eye-contact with him, let alone speak to him; instead, you looked at Spencer again, wordlessly asking him to continue. He obeyed.

“Yes. She knows now, we all see she’s precious to you. We don’t want to hurt her either, but you’re giving us no choice but to aim at you two. You have to put the gun down, Bonnie,” Spencer told her, earning her full attention – and a scoff.

“You think I’m stupid? I’m not lowering the gun. I’m an agent! I know these tricks!”

The cold metal of the dug into your flesh still, compressing your carotid and making you feel lightheaded; this was getting nowhere. You were moving nowhere and she was getting more worked up by the second despite Spence trying his best.

“Of course. Look at what you were able to put together, outsmarting us all. No one is questioning you’re smart or capable,” he assured her.

You breathed in as the pressure eased just a fraction, your mind racing.

She was focused on them again; it was your chance. You hated this, but it had crossed your mind before. You needed to free your hands and fight. You needed dislocate your thumb.

You would have done it ages ago, even when you had been still alone with Bonnie, but besides having whatever nasty shit in your system, she had been watching you like a hawk. Now? You had a distraction at least. You had a chance.

Taking a calming breath as your ears rang, your dominant hand inched to hover over the other in your lap, a thumb barely pressing to the base.

To everyone’s credit, their eyes didn’t move to follow the movement as Bonnie spoke up, a silent outrage in her voice.

“They shouldn’t. Especially him. He didn’t even notice me taking pictures, too busy gawking at other women while he had the most precious woman on his arm. Fucking pathetic.”

Sensing an opportunity, you withheld dislocating your thumb. Maybe you could still do this.

“He is,” you agreed quickly, swallowing when you realized it was a little too fast. If you wanted to be convincing, you had to sound more hesitant. She knew you cared about Steve – or that you had before, at least. Easy, girl. “I could never be happy with him after you showed him in true light. I’m going to forget about him now.”

A beat of silence; an ease of her grip, even as the gun stayed in place. You felt Bonnie’s astonished eyes burning through your skull you as she shifted to see at your face better.

“Are you?” she asked lowly, the hope in her voice making for a crack in it. “Are you going to forget him?”

You could never; but you grabbed the chance firmly as it presented, heart in your throat, the single word coming out shakily.

“Yes.”

You heard the click of the gun’s safety before a screechy cry nearly tore your eardrum, loud and menacing enough to rattle your bones.

“DON’T LIE TO ME!”

A tremble ran through your body, heavy shuffle of Steve’s boots drawing your eyes, quickly followed by Hotch’s low warning – to him and to you as raw panic clawed at your throat.

No, no, no- Steven Grant Rogers, don’t you fucking move a single inch, don’t you hog her attention for yourself you selfish selfless jerk-!

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” you blurted out hastily, breathless because holy shit that was a loaded unlocked gun at your throat now and Steve was right there ready to play a moving target and you needed to get you shit together before this turned into a blood bath.

“I’ll try, then! But I know it will be easy. I-- I’ll be with you and… you’ll show me what true love is about, you’ll make me understand!” Not good enough, not good enough, fuck- “With you, he… he’ll become nothing but a distant pathetic memory.”

You heard her breath hitch, all movement in the room stilling again.

Then, her thumb pressed against your shoulder. She caressed you lightly, causing your eyes to flutter briefly, nausea tickling your stomach at the sudden affectionate gesture.

Okay, okay, this was good, affection was good, even as she used the gun to move strands of hair from the side of your neck; a bizarre lover’s caress, soft lips pressing just above where the hard metal settled back against your throat.

A violent tremble took over your body, tears burning in your eyes when you felt Bonnie’s lips curl up into a smile before they retreated.

“Tell him then,” she prompted you almost kindly, a playful note in her voice. “Look him in the eye and tell him how worthless he really is. Tell him what you did with him was a mistake. Tell him you don’t care about him. Tell him you love me.”

Tell him what you did with him was a mistake. Tell him you don’t care about him.

The words made your head spin. Bonnie was confusing reality now. You made no mistake that had hurt her; you had nothing to apologize for and it wasn’t really your apology she craved. She wanted Lucille’s. But her cheating ex wasn’t here.

You breathed in deeply through your nose, licking your lips as you gathered courage to speak the words. You had walked into this; you needed to finish it.

Chances were that she was going to lower her gun for even a second; and the moment she would, you’d duck and someone – anyone really, but your money was on Clint, who you couldn’t even see and he’d be so smug about it, the image in making having you stifle a hysterical laugh – was going to shoot her.

You scanned the room, gulping when you caught the minute nod Reid gave you in support.

They got your back; the success of the plan lied on your shoulders, however.

You could do this. You could lie through your teeth and apologize to Steve later.

“I don’t-“

“And look him in the eye,” Bonnie hissed, yanking you to face Steve directly, forcing you to look straight into the sad pools of his eyes indeed.

“I--- I don’t… I don’t care about you. You’re worth-“ -everything, you wanted to scream, his dejected expression breaking a piece of your heart away, making for a lump in your throat. “-worthless. A mistake. You don’t deserve me. You’re not worthy. Bonnie is.”

You could feel your captor practically drilling a hole into your head with the intensity she watched you with – and then Steve. You could taste her victory in the air, the bittersweet accent of her triumph.

The second you were free of her scrutiny, your eyes bored into Steve’s, pleading him to understand. Of course, you hadn’t meant any of it; but he only averted your gaze. He must have thought you said it too easily. Too easily for the words not carrying a droplet of truth.

You wanted to yell at him not to be stupid – because he had to know you were forced to say this while in reality, he was your gentle giant and you had almost kissed him for god’s sake, because you had wanted to kiss him for the better part of the past two years – but he appeared utterly defeated.

The arm with the shield dropped to his hip; he lowered his gun.

He literally lowered his defences – and the very moment he did so, you were consumed by fury and horror at once.

A switch flicked in your body; fuck everything. You gritted your teeth and pushed hard, the pop of the joint of your thumb sending a jolt of pain up your arm, tears stinging in your eyes. You didn’t care; because the next second, Bonnie spoke up, icily calm – and you knew you had been right to act.

“That’s not good enough.”

The world turned into a blur of instincts and pain; the second the barrel of a gun left your skin, your hands were pushing it up and twisting down, body spinning around.

A flash of Bonnie’s raging face and a sneer; three gunshots cutting the air and muting the world around.

Pain exploding in your arm as you stumbled backwards. Shouts and cries enveloping you; shocked, you realised one of them was yours.

A motionless body of a woman lying on the ground, two pools of blood growing a few feet from where you fell on your ass, gripping at your left arm, waves of agony pouring out between your bloody fingers.

You winced at a new touch to your uninjured shoulder, a familiar face twisted in anguish entering your vision, filling it with his enormous presence. Mesmerizing blue eyes, with the tinniest specker of green, so warm despite the cold colours, brimming with worry.

Several voices reached your ears, serious, matter-of-fact, but sounding from such awful distance, your world zeroing on a single pale face; an angel speaking, a soothing gentle voice.

“Sparkles, sweetheart, look at me. You’re going to be okay, yeah? You’ll be fine,” he vowed, and maybe it was just the blinding pain that bit into your arms when his fingers pressed into your wound, but the angel had a halo around his head.

You had no reason not to believe him, but you didn’t expect the sting to the side of your neck, causing you to gasp and halt in the waterwall of words you only now realized was spiling from your lips.

Steve’s features seemed sharper now, even as you became aware of the fact that you were shaking in his grip; you recognized Tony in his Iron Man gear with only his hands and face uncovered, syringe in his right hand, Hotch and Emily talking too fast for you to decipher their words, Reid kneeling by Bonnie – oh god, Bonnie, you got a glimpse of one of the crimson pools being by her head – swiftly blocking your view of her.

It was over; oh thank god it was over and Steve was there, holding you, speaking firm and clear and kind, supporting your back and pushing against your arm with the fingers of the same hand, cradling your cheek--- and looking so so sad, the words, the ugly lies you had told no doubt weighting him down and you had to fix it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t—I was just saying what she wanted to hear, I swear---” you muttered frantically as you gasped for air, somehow only bringing a sorrowful twisted smile to Steve’s gorgeous lips as his thumb stroked your cheek gently.

“It’s okay, you’re okay-“

“None of it was truth, none— you’re not pathetic-“

“Sparkles, I know why you said that, it’s fine. You need to slow your breathing. Breathe with me. In… and out. Slowly, it’s fine,” he whispered, urgent but soothing, but you knew he was only saying that to make you feel better, that was what gentle giants did, too kind, dismissing their own hurt in order to take care of others, but he didn’t understand you meant what you were saying now, you had to make him understand.

“I love you, so much, and I should have said something a long time ago, I-“

“Hey, hey, shhh, it’s okay…” he assured you, eyes wide with surprise and that was good – now, he knew what you were saying, but there something else in his face too, something unreadable.

You hated when you couldn’t read him.

But Jesus, your arm hurt and your head was spinning—oh. Oh he was mad, wasn’t he? You couldn’t read him because he was rarely mad at you, but now he was angry, that was it, pissed that you had put them all in danger like this, that shots were fired, that he had to come here, that you hadn’t been honest with him before-

“I’m sorry. Are you—are you mad? Please don’t be mad-”

His enormous tense shoulders seemed to relax a fraction at your question, an honest, brief, breath-taking smile painting his lips as he gazed into your eyes.

“Why, I could never be mad at you, Sparkles… except maybe when you make all the fuss about my safety, completely missing it’s you who’s in danger. Never do that again, hm?”

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t think—I- you’re--- you’re more than my friend, than my best friend, I couldn’t-“

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re more than my best friend too,” he admitted sweetly, taking a deep breath as his eyes strayed elsewhere under the weight of the confession that made you lightheaded. You were what to him? “But let’s sort that out when you’re not shot and drugged and high on adrenalin, yeah?”

“I’m not high-“

“Kid, you’re high as a kite,” Tony snorted to your left, making you tear your gaze away from Steve’s face and frown in his direction. Oh wow, the world swayed with the movement. “You’ve been trying to keep your feelings to yourself for months if not years and now you just spitted it out like it was nothing.”

“He’s not wrong. Your body is flooded with adrenalin now and judging by the steady dilatation of your pupils without reaction to light the drug you’ve been injected with is still in effect,” Spencer added not-so-helpfully, sending you a tight-lipped smile. “And that antidote countermeasure probably isn’t helping that. Let’s get you some medical attention.”

You licked our lips, finding your tongue growing uncharacteristically heavy, a metallic taste in your mouth. Antidote? What antidote? To what? Wait. Did you just say to Steve that you loved him?

Oh. The bullets. The bullets meant for Steve; they had been laced with something. Right, right, right…

That was the sting to your neck had been. That was the syringe. Probably as a precaution if the… neuroagens or whatever worked on you too, not only Steve.

What did it feel like you should have connected those dots a few minutes ago? Minutes? Tens of minutes? How long has it been since you were taken, since Steve and others arrived? The lights were on, blinds down, you had noticed the blinds – when was that? Was it night yet?

“…I do feel a little out of it,” you admitted hesitantly, realizing you were getting cold despite being curled against the world’s nicest walking space heater – in a very, very pretty suit of armour.

You really liked this colour on Steve. It accented the colour of his eyes and he always had pretty eyes, but in this suit, they were just the perfect shade of blue. The colour was stealthier than the typical stars and stripes, but that was fine, the stripes were still there and so were the leather straps.

Were the straps as practical as they seemed for other things than carrying a shield? Christ, your arm was in agony-

A snort sounded to your right and you were met with a sight of Emily, shaking her head with a brief smile. “Yeah, no kidding. Come on, let your knight carry you.”

“I could take her, the suit would-“ Tony objected, earning a glare from your knight with a shiny star in a middle of his chest. “Or not.”

“Go. You need each other now. We’ll take care of the rest,” Emily said, exchanging a nod with Steve.

“Thank you.”

And then the world swayed again, your head falling to rest against Steve’s shoulder, tiny swings nearly lulling you to sleep; but he told you to keep your eyes open.

You might enjoy teasing Steve and bickering with him a bit, but when the Captain gave an order, hearty and sweet but adamant, there was no denying him. He laid you down in no time, the roof of a jet entering your vision, but he didn’t let go entirely; he only lost his glove to hold your hand firmly, ignoring the syrupy residues of blood, his right hand tenderly pushing the hair sticking to your forehead away as if he heard the thought about how annoying it was before it even formed in your head.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he whispered, the corners of his lips rising pitifully, but his eyes spoke nothing but the truth of his conviction. “One last sting, I promise. You’ll feel better then.”

And why wouldn’t you believe him? It was Steve.

So you nodded, swallowing hard as the needle pierced the skin of your shoulder, and let your eyes flutter shut.

It wasn’t that Steve couldn’t multitask; he was in fact excellent at it, a source of many of your jokes, as you called him an alien amongst the male population. But he also liked to be laser focused on only one task at the time. He was mission-oriented like that and while right now, he felt several emotions in him boiling and expanding to the point where he thought he might burst, he was on a mission.

His mission was to comfort you, keep you company, and make sure you would never feel the same fear he read in your eyes when they found you in Stiles’ literal clutches, a gun to your neck.

The sight shook him to his core; he was certain it was a horror image now etched into his brain and his eidetic memory wasn’t to blame for that one.

Uneasiness settled in him when you closed your eyes for good, but knowing Bruce was already taking care of you, he tried to ease that worry; you were in the hands of one of the world’s most renowned scientists, in the quinjet which could reach the Tower where Dr. Cho was waiting in a matter of minutes.

It was probably better if you slept through Bruce assessing the damage the bullet – one meant for him, what were you even thinking suddenly trying to fight Bonnie off in your state when there were six agents at your disposal and Steve had his shield and supersoldier’s reflexes which would deflect the bullet he knew would be coming, he was going to be fine – made.

He nearly lost his mind when Clint fired along with Hotch and yet there sounded another gunshot.

He’d crush your hand remembering the split second, but he heard Bruce muttering under his breath something about a graze and they had found the bullet so they knew that whatever you had was a mere flesh wound.

Not that it stopped him from being fucking terrified for you, especially with the bullets having been modified. He was going to murder Tony one day. Even if the apparent genius gave you also the antidote.

“Steve?” you breathed out, causing him to blink and refocus his gaze, finding you watching him again, a weak smile on your lips he couldn’t but mirror, squeezing your hand.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

An adorable confusion nearly laced your eyebrows together, lips pursing a bit; Steve realized that whichever painkillers Bruce had given you must have taken effect fast, judging by your next words.

“Where’s your sword if you’re a knight? You only have a shield.”

It was absurd; the circumstance was awful and Steve absolutely hated that you were lying there, high and shot and bleeding and asking this question with utter and unfeigned seriousness, but he chuckled anyway, because the word cute couldn’t hope to capture the image you made. And he wouldn’t deny you anything you asked at the moment.

Especially since you had blurted out ‘I love you’, just like that – and at the same time, spoke it so clearly as if your life depended on him knowing that. God, the things you were doing to him.

“See, Sparkles, the knight, it’s just-“

“Am I that much of a firecracker?” you interrupted him distractedly, a little wounded, frowning harder even as your voice grew drowsy.

Steve sighed, running his knuckles over your cheek, eliciting a sound dangerously close to a purr as you nuzzled into his touch like an affectionate kitten and lord almighty, he adored you and he was going to lay the world to your feet just to hear that sound again once you’d be fully conscious.

“Just the right amount. And I really like it.”

“But then… why do you keep calling me that? Sparkles?”

“Do you mind?” he queried gently, shamelessly taking advantage of your weakened inhibitions to find out the truth – it hadn’t even crossed his mind until you asked. Did you not like it, but kept your mouth shut as not to insult him? “I didn’t think-“

“No. I like it, it’s your special nickname for me. I love that, GG. I just… I guess I thought it was because of how I act.”

How you were able to string together a sentence like that in your condition was beyond Steve. Bruce was still poking around your arm, but you didn’t even seem to notice, fully focused on Steve instead, just as mission-oriented as he was.

And your mission now was to get at the bottom of your nickname.

Frankly, Steve didn’t want to say it. It would be embarrassing to admit it really, he was sure Tony would laugh his ass off, but… did he mention he couldn’t deny you anything?

“It could be, I guess. But it’s not that, it’s just… it’s gonna sound so corny.”

“I like corny. I like you cheesy. Corn and cheese good,” you babbled, your gaze misted over but somewhat still clear.

Steve licked his lips, all resolve broken when your fingers dug into his hand with the tinniest pressure; all strength you had poured into the single request.

“It’s… your eyes.”

“My eyes?” you questioned, utterly confused.

You rolled your eyes a bit, zeroing on your nose as if you could turn them enough to see them without a mirror – and then you closed them as the action tired you out. You were about to drift off any second, Steve could tell, so he just shook his head as you blinked them open heavily.

“What my eyes?” you demanded, voice thin but stubborn.

“Close them. Rest. I’ll stay if you want.”

Your head lulled to side, a slight curve to your lips. You gazed up at him pleadingly, your pout making a return; cute and painfully vulnerable.

“Want. Always. But tell me?”

Christ if that wasn’t the most effective interrogation method he was ever subjected to, how was he supposed to say no to you like that-

“Okay. But… close your eyes,” he requested and like a charm, you obeyed, taking a deep breath as you melted further into the stretcher.

For a brief moment, Steve contemplated keeping his secret for himself – after all, Bruce was still right there and you were practically unconscious – but you had asked and Bruce seemed like he hardly cared about what the conversation was about as he stitched your skin together.

“When… we didn’t know each other much back then and you gave me the cookies as a thank you for saving your life. At that time, I told you it wasn’t necessary, but you looked embarrassed then, so… I took them.”

“Cause you smelled ‘em,” you murmured and Steve nodded, smiling to himself.

“Yeah, that too. I took the box, thanked you and took a sniff, telling you that they smelled delicious. Which they did. And you smiled… you looked so pleased.”

He felt his mind wandering off, painting a vivid picture of the first time he saw you smiling like that, smile he had the luck to see many times since that day. Smile he had tried to capture on paper, multiple times, never quite succeeding. He’d try again; he’d ask you to pose for him when you felt better. Or maybe while you’d be recovering, to help you pass the time.

It would become his new mission once he finished this one. For now, he only drew circles into your palm which was growing slack with each passing second, just as his own voice sounded softer and softer with maybe a hint of a croak he would never admit to.

“And your whole face lit up. I know this really sounds cheesy, but you brightened up so much at that moment. All of you, but… your eyes. There was and is a spark in your eyes when you smile. When you’re genuinely happy. It’s— it’s beautiful. You’re just so… I think you’re beautiful, Sparkles.”

Moments ticked by after he finished his confession, feeling light and heavy at once, worrying about your reaction.

Pointlessly, however; one glance at you showed your chest was rising and falling smoothly, your whole body relaxed. A faint echo of a smile played on your lips still, but Steve could tell you had already entered the dreamland.

He watched you for a bit, face burning with his admission, but his heart felt warm. Only when he heard a soft shuffle of feet, he looked up, noticing Natasha in the corner. He didn’t have to ask for how long she had been standing there; her face was enough of an answer.

She was grinning at him, encouragement with a teasing edge.

“Typical. You tell her when she’s not really in capacity to listen. You’re such a man…” she snorted, but walked to his side, patting his shoulder like a proud big sister. “Come on, lover boy. Let the doc work and go help us put this shit behind us instead.”

Steve gulped, sparing one more glance your direction. His mission was now complete, at least the part he could do at the moment. He had other duties now.

Nodding, he rose to his feet, turning swiftly to the cockpit when he saw the others approach; Tony carried Stiles, no doubt beyond saving after Clint’s deadly precise shot. Steve didn’t linger with his gaze; seeing death, even of a person who hurt you, brought him no joy.

But what felt worse was the sheer disappointment in himself that hit him upon recalling the gunfight. He failed to meet his responsibility, he wasn’t the one who rid the world of your captor and he hated that. He didn’t care what kind of a person it made him, feeling that way. Not now. Not when he had to wipe his hands clear of your blood before being able to do anything else.

He headed to the pilot seat, knowing that unless he had his hands occupied, he was gonna break something just to release some of the frustration boiling inside him. Natasha followed, a ghost of support, wordlessly telling him she understood and thought nothing less of him. In the very back of his mind, he was aware of the fact he’d be grateful for that acceptance later; much like he’d thank Clint for taking the shot Steve would have loved to take himself and still would mean it. He just didn’t have the capacity to accept it yet.

Jaw tight enough for it to hurt, he took the seat and brought the quinjet to the air, focusing on the image of your smile – two years ago, just a minute ago and the many days in between.

→ Next part

Series masterlist // Steve Rogers masterlist // Misc masterlist

Alright, my dears, we have the most action behind us. I can promise loads of fluff from now on 💗 (maybe some small drama). Thank you for reading!

Also, I want to thank you again for your wonderful encouraging feedback, it gives me life and before I reply, I usually read your comments at least three times 🥺

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #mcu x criminal minds #criminal minds x mcu #criminal minds fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #bau agent reader #former bau agent reader #steve rogers #love on the brain #anika ann

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jaxteller87 · 8 months

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Valentine’s Day Surprise

Teenagers years

There I stood, lingering in the hallway, silently observing the girls in the classroom reveling in the blossoming romance of receiving flowers from admirers, both secret and known. I purchased a single rose myself, and it was destined for Amber, the girl I’ve found myself secretly crushing on for a few weeks now. I was nervous to see how she’d react but excited at the same time.

“What’s going on?” Donna asked, approaching me from behind. Just as she fired off her words, Amber received the flower I got her. At first, she was surprised, just staring at it like it must have been some sort of mix-up or mistake. After a moment of convincing herself that perhaps it was actually destined for her, she closed her eyes, gently pressed the petals to her nose, and smiled.

“You think she likes it?” I asked.

Donna peered into the classroom and saw Amber smiling at the rose. “Ah, now I get it. Don’t take this the wrong way, Teller, but I see right through your tough, badass exterior. Believe it or not, deep down, you’re a softie.”

“Just because I run with the Sons doesn’t mean I don’t know a thing or two about how to treat a woman,” I was talking to Donna, but I couldn’t stop looking at Amber.

“Yeah, I see how some of you SOA boys treat the ladies,” she sneered as if catching me in the act of something nefarious.

“Think what you will, but we’re not all like that.” At least not most of the time, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. “I promise you, Don, I’m one of the good ones.”

She sized me up, “Yeah, maybe you are, Teller. Maybe you are.”

“I am. And my boy Opie isn’t too bad either,” I put in a good word for Ope, for what it was worth.

“Jury’s still out on that one,” she smiled awkwardly, clearly having strong feelings for him.

“What do you mean?”

“Look around, Teller. Even Brian Johnson got a flower for Lara Holtheimer, and he’s cheated on her twice,” Donna pointed to the fledgling lovebirds in the corner of the classroom.

I scoffed. “It was a lot more than twice,” I corrected her.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I know you guys are cut from a different cloth, but as a simple small-town girl, I guess I just kind of look forward to little quirky things like this,” she explained.

Just then, Phillip, the AV club president who was in charge of handing out the flowers and stuffed bears, cut in between us. ”Excuse me, Donna?”

“Um, yes?”

“Here, this is for you.” He handed her a little stuffed bear with a card.

“And you were saying?” I asked like a smartass.

“Aw!” Donna squealed with a knowing smile, realizing that her badass biker wasn’t a stranger to romantic gestures after all. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I had reminded him an hour past the cut-off window for orders, but after roughing up the kid in charge, we got Ope on the list.

Later that afternoon, the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow over the backyard, where I discovered Amber surrounded by her canine companions. Instead of her usual wheelchair, she was sitting on a lawn chair, which was a pretty rare sight. Taking the seat beside her, I looked into her eyes and forgot what I was going to say.

“Thank you,” she blushed, breaking the short awkward silence.

“For what?”

“Don’t lie, Teller; I know it was you.”

I sat back in the chair and sighed, “Ah, I see. Donna tell ya?”

“Nope,” she chuckled, “You just did, though.”

I walked into that. “That’s not fair,” I joked, “but you’re welcome. Oh, and thanks for the candy bar I found in my locker.”

She gave me a puzzled look, “Dang, how’d you know it was me? Donna tell you?”

“Nah,” I smirked, “but you just did.” We shared a laugh, and it felt magical. Everyone had been right; I found myself falling head over heels for Amber. Yet, an unspoken longing lingered—I wished she could see herself through my eyes. Perhaps, one day, she would.

Many years later...

I stepped out onto the porch, greeted by a surprise that warmed my heart — a bag filled with my favorite candies and a twelve-pack of beer. It was a thoughtful gesture from Amber, who, being pregnant, found it challenging to get in and out of the car, which meant she most likely had it delivered.

I told her a thousand times, expressing that she didn’t need to go to such lengths for me. But ever since high school, I had presented her with a single rose every Valentine’s Day, a tradition that I never broke once. Sure, some might say a single rose isn’t much, but to anyone who knows our story, it’s more about the memory than the monetary aspect. We grew up in the same town but came from two very different neighborhoods.

I strolled into the living room with the bag in my hand, catching Amber off guard. Before I could say a word, she immediately burst into tears. “You weren’t supposed to see that yet,” she confessed, joining me in the living room.

“Darlin’, what did I tell you?”

“I know,” she sniffled, wiping her face on her sweater sleeve. “But I just felt bad. Every year, it warms my heart to see you keep up with a tradition that literally changed my life for the better. All those years in middle school, watching girls get Valentine’s cards, candies, and gifts, but none of them were ever for me. Well, aside from the pity presents from the teacher or super popular kids, but never from a secret admirer. I didn’t care, though; I knew I was different. I mean, some people are just cut out for different paths than others. It’s not fair, but it’s life. The sooner you realize that the sooner you can learn to enjoy everything else life has to offer.”

Another wave of tears rolled down her cheeks, and then, unexpectedly, she started to giggle. “These damn hormones, I’m sorry,” she laughed. “I shouldn’t be crying over something so silly. Please forgive me, babe.”

“Relax, darlin’, of course, you are forgiven, my love,” I smiled, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I just don’t want you overexerting yourself on my behalf. The only surprise I need to come home to every day is you.”

“Okay, but—”

“No buts,” I interrupted.

“But babe—I really didn’t go too far out of my way.”

“Well, obviously you did; you had my favorite stuff ordered and scheduled to be dropped off on our doorstep,” I pleaded my point.

She had a shit-eating grin on her face. “Actually, I just asked Ope to pick it up on his way home from work and drop it off.”

I looked at her in disbelief for a moment before laughing at the simplicity of her plan. “Alright, fine. I guess that’s okay,” I smiled, planting a big, juicy kiss on her lips. “How about we make it an early night?”

“Jax, it’s not even 5:30 yet,” she said, glancing at the clock.

“It’s okay; no one has to know,” I smirked, kissing her forehead, slowly moving down her cheek and into her sweet spot on the neck. “But first, let’s get some dinner; I’m starving. Do you want to help me cook something?”

“Nah,” she shrugged.

“Nah? Why not?” I asked, almost offended.

“I also asked Opie to swing by that new steakhouse that opened up outside of Charming and pick us up ribeyes. I have the to-go containers hidden in the oven. It was going to be the rest of your surprise.”

“You were going to pass it off as your own cooking?” I asked, smirking at the idea.

“Perhaps,” she blushed, looking away.

“You are too funny! I love the shit out of you; do you know that?” I kissed her neck some more before she unloaded our meal from the oven.

And so, after a delightful steak dinner, we retreated to the coziness of our large bed.

“Thank you, sweetie. Happy Valentine’s Day,” she whispered.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, darlin’,” I whispered back.

#jax teller fluff #jax teller x disabled reader #jax teller x oc

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freakshowtwopointoh · 7 months

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Road to Hell - All I've Ever Known Part 5

It was the road to hell

It was hard times

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By the time I made it back to my bedroom, my head was still spinning. It all made sense, and yet didn’t at the same time. But I had gotten my answers, right? Vought wants to control the narrative - of course they wouldn’t want it public knowledge that their superhero serum causes spontaneous heart attacks. If they control Maggie, they can use her device without her research going public. And this way, she becomes good PR for GodU as an added bonus. They didn’t even need to lift her up, just pretend like they discovered her instead of her existing on her own merits. It should have made me feel better - knowing that she wasn’t being artificially boosted in the rankings or whatever. It should have made it easy for me to stop obsessing over Maggie and focus back on my own life.

If I was honest with myself (and I’m usually not), the way she reacted when I brought up Sam changed my mind more than anything she told me in that warehouse. The crack in her facade, a glimmer of truth behind the lies. She’s clearly powerful, and intelligent... Maybe I should be more worried about her being a legitimate rival than a nepotism plant.

But shoulds didn’t matter when she met my eyes across a room - my heart would begin thumping erratically in my chest, and my mouth would go dry.

We fell into a strange routine, now that we had something of an understanding. She was always awake before me, sitting in the kitchen and sipping coffee when I would come downstairs to go running. We rarely said anything to each other in the mornings, but it was easy. I could feel Maggie let her guard down around me slowly - like the air in the room was getting marginally lighter. We ended up spending most evenings on the porch - she would lay on the couch and read or just scroll on her phone while I smoked. Sometimes we’d talk, but we usually didn’t.

I started looking forward to it, in spite of myself. Even knowing I had studying or work to do, I didn’t want to give up these few moments of peace that I had managed to carve out in my life. She started bringing songs to share with me. I remember the first time: she seemed kind of nervous that evening, picking at her nails.

Flashback

“What’s up, mouse?” I asked her, flicking my eyes to her briefly before looking back out into the night. It was getting harder and harder not to stare at her - she was absolutely beautiful in the twilight. She still hesitated, chewing her lip for a moment. I almost gave up on getting an answer from her - it was useless trying to pry information out of Maggie, especially like this. But she surprised me.

“I want to play you this song. I think you’ll like it?” She said it like a question, which made me chuckle.

“Go for it. I’m always down for new music,” I said lightly, trying to ignore the way my heart swooped and twisted at the thought of her thinking of me.

And she was right, I did like the song. And each song she showed me in the following weeks. It was hard to keep her at arms length when she kept seeing right through every wall I put up.

One Saturday morning, I came downstairs to see Maggie looking more tired than normal, staring off into the distance as she stirred her coffee. Without really knowing why, I came up next to her. “Come with me,” I said gruffly, walking towards the door without waiting.

“Where?” She asked, her voice rough with sleep as she stood up.

“Just come.” I said. We walked in silence towards the gym, as I tried to deny the real reason I was doing this. I led Maggie towards the back, into the training room I usually frequent. It isn’t outfitted for powers, but there’s some sandbags and stuff. “Punch something. It might help you sleep.” I said. “S’What I do, anyways.” Then I began my workout, shifting into my smaller form and falling into a rhythm. I put in my headphones but I didn’t listen to any music, listening to Maggie’s rhythm as she began striking the sandbag. Whatever training Park had put her through had worked - she had force behind each strike and an even rhythm. I wondered what it would be like to spar with her - face her in the ring, mind running a mile a minute to out-maneuver her, sweat leaving a soft sheen on her skin, finally pinning her down...

Focus, Li! I thought to myself, starting my workout playlist and putting all my frustration into the sandbag in front of me. I let myself fall into the familiar beat of the music, accented by fists meeting leather. It was easy for me to clear my mind when I trained - sometimes, it was the only thing that could keep me from losing my mind entirely.

It was raining lightly when we left the gym, an oppressive layer of clouds above our heads foreshadowing a worse storm coming soon. I was hurrying through the rain, trying to keep my hair from being entirely ruined. Having two heads of hair means two sets of curls to keep from frizzing out.

“Wait!” Maggie said, sticking her arm out to stop me, almost clotheslining me. “Careful.” She pointed at the ground, a massive earthworm slithering across my path.

“Did you just stop me... from stepping on a worm?” I asked her, not sure what to make of this. As with most things Maggie does, if I’m honest. But I stepped around the worm anyways, rolling my eyes.

“When it rains, the worms flee to the pavement. Scientists think it's because the vibrations feel like moles.” She explained, continuing to hop across the sidewalk as if that explained literally anything at all. I hurried to keep up with her, shaking my head in amusement.

Once inside, I turned to her. “By the way, if you ever need to, uh, train with someone,.” I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly. “No pressure, of course.” I was cringing at myself as I spoke.

“I’ll probably take you up on that.” She said, surprising me once more. She smiled at me with that crooked grin that made my heart go erratic. I headed up to my bedroom, trying to suppress a smile. I thought back to the time I saw her training earlier this semester. Watching her figure out how her powers work and utilizing them to gain the upper hand reminded me of my own experimentation with shifting mid fight. Yes, it was Brink who first suggested it, but once I was able to analyze the situation on my own and ascertain the right time to shift, it felt like a whole new world opened up. When we’re able to actually understand our powers and the role they play within the entire encounter, the better we’re able to actually use them.

One of the downsides to growing up in a... volatile home is that you become aware of all sounds and what they mean in your spaces. So I had instinctively removed my headphones when I heard the telltale signs of people gathering in the kitchen. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the usual happy sounds of dinner being made. I heard raised voices - Luke, and Maggie? I knew I shouldn’t listen but I found myself straining to hear in spite of myself.

“God damn it, Maggie, let it go! This isn’t healthy for either of us.” Luke sounded angrier than I’d ever heard him.

“Isn’t healthy? Luke, what if... I just mean,” She didn’t sound angry - she sounded desperate. “He wouldn’t h-”

“Just stop! We just didn’t know him as well as we thought we did. You have to let this go before it eats you alive.”

“This? He’s our brother - our baby brother. If there’s even a tiny chance...” Maggie took a long deep breath, and I could almost hear her jaw tighten as she tried to keep her emotions in check.

“Stop it! You silly little girl! Maggie, grow up, and face reality: he’s gone. Forever.” I heard him storm off, and I sat back in my desk chair, in shock. Luke was always so cheerful, kind, and careful with others' feelings. But the way he was yelling at his own sister, the way he was dismissing her concerns about their brother - someone I know he loved dearly... it was a side of Luke I had never seen before, and I didn’t like it. My heart was pounding in my chest and the memories of my childhood were tainting everything around me. Laying in bed at night, hearing my parents yell about my problems (read: my powers), fighting with each other about how to deal with me. I was frozen, just like back then, unable to do anything but listen and try to understand. Because maybe if I understood what was going on, it wouldn’t scare me so much. It never worked.

I still went out that evening to meet Maggie on the porch. Like most nights, we didn’t say much. I didn’t comment on the joint she had brought out with her, and she didn’t comment on the tremble in my hands, and neither of us wanted to go back inside. I knew I shouldn’t mention what I overheard, but I had to say something.

“Listen to this.” I said finally, pulling up Into the Ocean by Blue October and playing it from my phone. It felt strangely vulnerable, playing this song that had been a comfort to me when I felt so alone. It makes me sound like an emo teen, but to be fair, I was one when I found this song. And it made me feel understood for the first time since getting my powers. I hadn’t ever been the one to bring in a song, but since I couldn’t find my own words, I thought someone else’s might help.

And from the look in Maggie’s eyes, they did.

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edits by @barbieprincesshilton

#jordan li #gen v #gen v prime #gen v fic #jordan li x reader #angst #luke riordan #sam riordan #lukes little sister x jordan li

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vera-king-hrfl · 4 months

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Goodnight Kiss part 2. This one was easier. Mainly because I have a massive crush on Dammon. I do usually make him a bit more naughty, but bro actually liked Avernus, so...

In the morning, you steel yourself and exit the tower with determination. You can’t talk to Lia about this. Can’t talk to Rolan. You need someone who is more experienced with this sort of thing. Your brother had returned late, but, hopefully, your intended confidant would be up and about. As you approach the forge, you hear the ringing of a hammer, and hesitate. He’s awake already, slamming his hammer into soft metal. You round the corner and he’s there, his silky stupid hair in a little knot, his stupid muscles rippling in the morning light. He won’t answer you until he’s done with whatever he is working on, so you just sit silently on the ledge nearby and watch him. He glances up, flashing you a devastating smile, before going back to his work. His focus is lovely, and watching him work has always been one of your favorite distractions, so you don’t have a problem waiting. Dammon enjoys being looked at, you know, a pleased little smile on his face as he finishes whatever he’s making.

Eventually, he hits the last blow and plunges whatever it is into a barrel of water, letting it hiss and sputter as he wipes his hands. “Hi Cal. What can I do for you?”

You hadn’t thought of how to bring this up to the handsome tiefling, and you stammer for a second before coming out with it. “There is something… I’m having a hard time. Can I ask you something?”

His face becomes more serious when he sees how earnest you are. “Of course. You know you can talk to me about anything. Let’s go around the back.” He leads you to a little covered porch, drawing two cups of small ale from a small keg, before handing you one and motioning to a chair, bidding you sit beside him.

You sit and sip at the weak beer, organizing your thoughts for a minute, then clear your throat. “Dammon… how do you get a girl to like you?”

The older man chuckles. “So it’s like that, is it? I’m not sure if I’m really the best person to give you advice, but I’ll try.” He grins. “I used to be really shy too. You remember. But the time we spent in Avernus, with all those devils… now I kind of just ask if they want a piece. Gets me smacked, occasionally, but it works as often as not. Who’s the lucky lady? Or is this just a general question?”

You smirk to yourself a bit. It worked on Rolan, you think. You cough lightly to cover it. “Yeah but you look… well, like you. And this is different. I… just a girl I know and, well, I walked her home last night and I couldn’t even talk, much less make inappropriate suggestions. I was too nervous. I don’t just want… that. I like her and I want her to like me too, but I’m not very interesting, or handsome, or like… I don’t know. It’s probably never going to happen.” You take another drink, disgruntled.

Dammon laughs. “You think too little of yourself. Don’t worry about what I look like, Cal. I never got much attention either, until I built up my confidence a little. Not the kind I wanted, anyway. Look, I know everyone is going to tell you to just be yourself and stuff like that, but I had to become… I guess, a different version of myself. I had to stop caring what people thought of me. But you’re not like that. You’re so sweet. And you are attractive, whatever you might believe. I’m sure the lady thinks so too.”

Well… she had said that you were cuter than an ogre, anyway, so that was something. “But how can I tell if she likes me? I don’t want to get smacked if I say the wrong thing. This one uses magic… hells, Dammon. It’s Tav. She could blast me through a wall if she didn’t like it.”

Dammon sits straighter and whistles low. “Really? Well I can’t help you much there, I struck out with her. She was polite about it, and I remain mercifully unsquished, but I’m not really sure what she likes. I’ve never noticed that she’s really been interested in anyone. Can you describe what happened when you walked her home? What was she like?”

You feel annoyed that Dammon had tried to seduce Tav, or whatever he did, but relieved that he hadn’t managed it. “I don’t know. I guess… She was quiet, too. She walked next to me, kind of close, you know? Like, her hand touched mine sometimes. Made me nervous. Then when we got to her house, she just kind of stared at me for a minute. I thought she was offended about something, maybe because I didn’t talk… so I just babbled something and she said goodnight and I basically ran away.”

Dammon shakes his head with a chuckle. “Oh you are delightfully clueless, aren’t you? She does like you, Cal. Trust me. Tav can talk a mile a minute about anything under the sun, for hours on end, and she definitely isn’t shy in most circumstances. If she was as mute as you were, then she was probably feeling the same way. Think about it. How close she was, the hand touching. The girl won’t get within ten feet of me since I… uh… you know, not unless there are other people around. She’s the same with most people who show any interest in her, she’s not a flirt. I bet when you got to her door, when she looked at you like that… she was probably hoping you’d kiss her.”

Your face heats, thinking about how she looked. Her eyes big and golden, little teeth biting that plump bottom lip… maybe… but that brings you to your next problem. “I don’t really know how,” you mumble.

His blue eyes widen. “Really? But…” he laughs, “I am surprised. You really are adorable, you know. I find it hard to believe nobody has ever tried to kiss you.” He flashes his teeth at you. “I might have, once, but your brother would have turned me into a sheep.”

You blush even more fiercely, stammering, “well… um… maybe some people have, but I always wanted it to be… you know… someone special. But now I realize that I don’t even know how to do it. Where to put my hands…”

“That depends on where she wants them. But I can help with that, I think. Stand up, I’ll show you a few things.” He gets to his feet, but you just stare at him, feeling like your hair is going to burst into flames. Did he really mean…

He laughs again. “Don’t worry Cal, I won’t kiss you. I understand that you’re saving yourself. It’s sweet. But this kind of thing is hard to describe.”

You rise and put down your mug, wiping your sweaty hands on your pants. Dammon is taller than you, bigger, and you feel his energy when he comes close. He isn’t what you want, but it is kind of thrilling, having him so near. He takes a breath, “Alright, so. We’re going to keep this a bit chaste.” He lifts his hand and touches your cheek. “Close your eyes. Just feel it.” You do, and he slips his big, rough hand, slowly, up behind your ear and into your hair. You feel his heat move closer, and his other hand rests lightly on your waist. He’s whispering now. “Like this, you see? Don’t grip, just… ease into it. Give her some time to pull away if she wants to. If she likes it, she’ll touch you back.” You raise your own hands, touching his own waist, gripping the back of his arm lightly, “yeah, just like that. It’s instinctive. Then you lower your head, but not all the way.” You feel his warm breath against your lips, a little tingle racing down your spine to the tip of your tail. He really is good at this… “and that’s the thing. You don’t kiss her, you just… invite it. If she wants to, she’ll do the rest.” You are almost disappointed when he pulls away, and you have to shake yourself to dispel the effect. If you could do that to her…

“Does that help a bit?” Dammon resumes his chair and picks up his mug, grinning as you finish yours and nod, preparing to leave. It takes a second to find your voice again, but you smile at him and shake his hand.

“Yeah, it just might. Thanks, Dammon. That was… interesting.” You are turning to go when the devilish impulse hits you. “I can see why Rolan likes you.” You hear him choke and spit a mouthful of ale, and speed up, grinning as you round the corner of the house.

#cal bg3 #bg3 cal #baldur's gate fanfiction #bg3 dammon #dammon is a bit naughty #goodnight kiss #part 2 #cw suggestive #pg 13

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legolasbadass · 2 years

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Office Hours, Part 15

Summary: Lorelei Browning has just secured a job as an assistant professor at Exeter College in Oxford. Naturally, she is eager to prove herself and meet every challenge sent her way, but what she does not expect is the tall, handsome stranger who will quickly become much more than a colleague…

Relationship: Richard Armitage x OC (Professor AU)

Word Count: 3.2k

Rating: T (some chapters E)

Warnings: This chapter deals with heartbreak, please proceed carefully.

Read on AO3

A thin layer of ice covers the road as I drive to my parents’ house on Christmas Day. There's no snow this year, but I doubt I would be more in the holiday spirit even if there were. I haven’t seen Richard since the end of the term last week, and every day, I’m overwhelmed with the need to call him and see him. I even got into my car on a few occasions, but every time, something stopped me. Once, I made it all the way to his house, but he wasn’t there. And then a part of me—the part that whispers my worst fears to me in the dead of night—began to sow doubt into my heart. What if Richard doesn’t want to see me?

I cannot know the extent of his feelings for me, but I know that whatever he felt, it was strong, the kind of affection that doesn’t fade away in an instant, and thus he must still care for me in some way despite what happened between us. And yet I also know that I hurt him deeply, and he deserves better than that. To distract myself, I turn on the radio, hoping the Christmas songs undoubtedly playing will cheer me up, but Wham!’s Last Chrismas comes on.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I groan in annoyance and rush to turn off the music.

Thankfully, I soon pull onto my parents’ street, and I smile to myself when I recognize Beatrice. She stands on the front porch, hugging herself with one arm, her pale blonde hair and green scarf dancing in the wind. Ever since we did our masters’ together in Glasgow, Beatrice has been spending Christmas with my family and me whenever she doesn’t travel back home to the US. After parking my car and grabbing my bags, I step out of my car and walk up towards her.

“Merry Christmas!” she exclaims excitedly.

“Merry Christmas!” I reply, trying to imbue my voice with as much cheer as she exudes. Then, when I notice she’s smoking a cigarette, I frown and add, “I thought you said you were quitting.”

She looks back at me in surprise. “Oh—this? It’s not mine; I’m holding it for Frosty over there,” she replies, pointing to the inflatable snowman on the neighbour’s front lawn. Then, dumping her cigarette on the ground, she tightens her scarf around her neck and says, “You’re late.”

“A wizard is never late—”

“I knew you’d say that!” she groans, but a soft laugh tumbles from her lips. “Are you alone? I was really hoping I’d get to meet your hot professor tonight.”

“He’s not my professor.” At least, not anymore. “And he—he couldn’t be here. He has his own family dinner tonight.”

“Oh, right.”

I hate lying to Beatrice, but I won’t be able to pretend like I’m enjoying Christmas if I tell her about Richard and me.

“So how are you? What’s new?” Beatrice asks as we step inside, where the warmth of the fire and the many people in the sitting room urge me to take off my hat and coat immediately.

I shrug. “Oh, not much.”

“Not much? I haven’t seen you in over a month and that’s all you have to say?” Beatrice chuckles.

“We talk on the phone all the time, Beatrice.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Well, I know but—”

“Lorelei!” my parents exclaim as they step into the entry, and I conjure a smile as they pull me into a hug.

“Merry Christmas, darling!” mum says, her voice light and warm, and I squeeze her tight a moment longer.

“Merry Christmas! I’ve got presents and the trifle.”

“Beatrice and I will take that for you,” she tells me with a wide smile. “Come inside! Everyone will be so pleased to see you!”

I swallow back a groan, mentally preparing myself for the inevitable questions about my romantic life my aunts and uncles love to throw at me every chance they get. But it’s dad who begins this whole awkward affair.

“So… how is Richard?”

“Fine.”

He sighs and rubs his forehead. “Lorelei, please—”

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Especially not today,” I interject, that tightness clawing its way back into my throat.

I walk away before he can get a chance to reply, taking a deep breath before stepping into the sitting room, where everyone is seated around the fire, enjoying wine and a platter of cheese and crackers. Over the hubbub of conversations, I hear Frank Sinatra’s You Make Me Feel So Young playing on the stereo, and I wonder how I never noticed just how many Christmas songs are about being in love. What’s wrong with sticking to Christmas trees and Santa Claus?

“Hi everyone,” I announce myself uncertainly, tugging on the sleeves of my sweater dress.

“Lorelei!”

“It’s so good to see you!”

“Merry Christmas!”

After an endless round of greetings and hugs from relatives I barely know, Aunt Laura holds onto my arm to grab my attention and says, “So, how is your new job? You work at Exeter College in Oxford, right?”

“Yes! And it’s going great. It’s hard work, obviously, and I often feel like someone will realize I don’t actually belong there, but it’s great.”

“Oh, nonsense! Of course you belong there!” Uncle Greg chimes in. “You’ve always been top of your class!”

I chuckle slightly, not bothering to tell him that everyone studying and teaching at Oxford was most likely top of their class, too.

“And other than work, how is everything? Have you got a boyfriend?”

“Er—no, I don’t.” That unbearable knot in my throat returns, and I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from crying. “Will you excuse me? I, er, I’m going to get a drink.”

Why is it so hard to stop thinking about him? I wonder as I drag myself to the kitchen. Only three months ago, I didn’t even know he existed, and now, even the smallest things, like rain, salted caramel ice cream, or cream-coloured jumpers, make me think of him.

“There you are!” Beatrice’s voice suddenly pulls me out of my thoughts as I step into the crowded kitchen. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I reply dismissively as I look around in search of wine or any other type of alcohol.

“Looking for this?” Beatrice says, sliding toward me to hand me a drink.

“What’s that?” I ask as I eye the red cocktail, though I take it band bring it to my lips before she answers.

“It’s a Christmas margarita—cranberry juice, tequila, and triple sec.”

I nod. Not my favourite, but not bad either. I take another sip.

“So how is Richard, darling?” mum asks as she suddenly appears next to Beatrice.

“Fine,” I reply and take another sip.

“Lorelei.”

“What?”

“Don’t be so dismissive,” she says with a frown. “I’m trying to make amends.”

“Amends aren’t needed.” I slam my drink on the counter with much more force than I intended, and my mum sighs and walks away.

Beatrice, who watched the whole exchange with a look of utter confusion on her face, leans in with a worried frown. “Okay, what did I miss?”

I sigh. “It’s a long story….”

“I’m not in a hurry,” Beatrice replies with a challenging smile, and I’m forced to look away. “Come on, Lor, you’ve been Anne Sexton since you got here. Talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” I retort, the need to bury my feelings deep inside filling my voice with frustration. “I’ll be back, I—I need some air.”

Without so much as another glance in her direction, I step out of the kitchen, then rush upstairs toward my childhood bedroom. It’s no longer my bedroom, of course; now it’s simply a guest bedroom, but the room still bears evidence of the years I spent in it, like the Buffy and Lord of the Rings stickers still glued on the inside of the closet door. I can still hear the music and laughter coming from downstairs, but at least I’m alone, and as I sink onto the neatly made bed, I let my mind stray toward Richard once more. Despite myself, I take my phone out of my pocket and open Facebook, half hoping and half dreading to find any news of Richard there. Of course, the first thing I see is a photo of him posted a few hours ago by his brother William. In the photo, Richard is standing before a Christmas tree, smiling at the camera while hugging a little boy, who I assume must be his nephew. My heart tightens in my chest, and as I gaze back into Richard’s bright blue eyes, I feel my eyes fill with tears once more, and the overwhelming need to call him and hear his deep, rumbling voice takes hold of me once more. But the photo before me only worsens the agonizing doubt at the back of my mind. He looks happy, which makes me think that he's doing just fine without me. No matter how much I ache to talk to him and be with him, I have no right to disturb his Christmas. I have no right to ever bother him if he's happy without me and all the uncertainty and insecurity I brought into his life.

“Hey—what are you doing up here?” Beatrice’s voice puts a stop to my harrowing thoughts, and I raise my head to find her standing in the doorway. When I respond with a shrug, she walks toward me to sit on the bed, frowning in apparent concern. “Lor—what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“It’s nothing.”

She stares at me for another moment, then her frown deepens, and she rests a gentle hand on my arm. “Did you and Richard fight for something?”

I try to shake it off—to swallow back the pain and step back into the party, but hearing her say it like that shatters the shaky defence I tried to build around my heart, and the next thing I know, Beatrice is holding me tight in her arms as I sob against her chest. I can’t understand how there are still tears left in me after all this time, but I suppose when you care about someone as much as I care about Richard, there is no end to the heartbreak when they are gone.

Beatrice doesn’t rush me. She doesn’t force me to explain but simply continues to hug me and kiss my forehead until my sobs finally quiet down to short, uneven breaths. Only then does she speak. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Her blouse is soaked with my tears, but I still won’t let go. “I messed everything up.”

“Oh, don’t say that—”

“It’s true!” I interject, swallowing back another sob. “It’s all my fault. I was just so worried that I would ruin something—that I would jeopardize my career—that I felt like I needed to—to keep everything separate. I thought keeping my personal and professional lives separate would help me be more in control. And Richard understood that! He was so supportive—so much more supportive than I deserved, really— but in the end … I don’t know, I was so unfair to him, andI guess it became too much for him.”

“When did this happen? When did you two … break up?” Beatrice squeezes me as she speaks those words, anticipating the sobs that ravage my body anew.

It takes me a few moments to gather myself, though my voice is even more uneven than before. “We broke up like a week and a half ago. Just after we had dinner here and he met my parents, actually.”

“What? Is that why your parents seem so … weird when asking you about him?”

I shake my head as I wipe my tears for what feels like the hundredth time today. “Before we got here, I asked him if we could not tell my parents were colleagues. I know it was stupid—alright?” I hasten to say as I notice the look on her face. “But … you know my parents! I knew they wouldn’t approve, and I knew they also wouldn’t approve of the age gap between Richard and me, so I just thought hiding one of those things from them might make it easier. You should’ve seen my dad … he was horrified by the idea of me dating someone nearly twenty years older than me—”

“What? How old is he?”

I sigh. “Bea—”

“Right. Sorry—not the point. But, damn, … he looks really good for his age then.”

“Yeah,” I reply with a longing sigh. “Anyway—my parents found out Richard and I are colleagues, and it really wasn’t pretty. And then in the car on the way back—we had a fight. He was mad that I’d asked him to lie to my parents. He—he said he felt like I wasn’t invested in this relationship and that if I wasn’t ready to commit—to really commit and tell people about us—then we just shouldn’t be together.”

“Oh, Lor … I’m so sorry,” she whispers. Then, as though she can’t help herself, she shakes her head and says, “But you know, you’re allowed not to be ready to tell people about your relationship.”

“But it’s more than that….” I take a deep breath and shake my head, desperately trying to erase the image of his heartbroken, tear-stained face in the car. “I’ve never—I’ve never been with a man like him before—he did everything for me! I’d wake up in the morning to breakfast in bed, and he would leave post-its in my flat with little messages or lines from poems that reminded him of me. And whenever I felt stressed or anxious—even if it was for the stupidest thing—he would cook for me, watch my favourite movies with me, or just cuddle with me for hours. He—he made me feel wanted and safe and understood. I mean, he was willing to keep everything a secret just to—to protect my feelings, even though he wanted more. And in return … I couldn’t even defend our relationship against my parents’ judgment! I made him feel like I was ashamed of dating him because he’s my colleague. And I hate myself so much for that … for hurting him and pushing him away—” Those last words turn into a sob, and I trail my fingers through my hair, not caring that I probably look like a total mess.

“You really liked him, didn’t you?” Beatrice says suddenly as she raises a hand to caress my back.

I think of his smile and his mesmerizing blue eyes. His rumbling laughter and how he runs his hands through his unruly hair when he’s nervous. The way his beard scratches my cheeks when he kisses me and the way he speaks my name, tender and teasing, like it’s a declaration of love in and of itself. Then there’s the way he purposefully forgets a t-shirt at my flat every time he stays over because he knows how much I like sleeping in his clothes and how he always falls asleep with his face buried in my hair and his arms wrapped tightly around me.

“I love him. I love him more than I've ever loved anyone,” I reply, sniffling uncontrollably. “And the worse thing is—I realize know how stupid I was. If I could, I'd tell everyone about us! I just want to be with him."

A long moment of silence ensues, broken only by my quiet weeping, while Beatrice traces reassuring circles on my back.

“I think you should tell him that.”

A bitter chuckle escapes me. “What if he doesn’t want to see me or talk to me? I wouldn’t blame him….”

“You won’t know unless you try, right?” she says with a soft smile. “Besides, I think it’s really unlikely that he wouldn’t want to talk to you. From everything you’ve told me about him these past months, he really cares about you. And you guys just broke up—you don’t move on in just a week.”

“I guess not,” I reply halfheartedly, but I know she’s right, and a spark of hope blooms in my heart.

That’s when dad suddenly steps into the room, and he’s halfway through telling us how he’s been looking all over the house for us when he takes a good look at me and halts.

“Lorelei—what’s the matter, darling?”

The question causes another annoying wave of tears to stream down my cheeks, and Beatrice engulfs me in another hug. “I’ll let you two talk, okay?” she whispers to me. “You need it, trust me.”

Once Beatrice has walked out of the room, my dad eyes me uncertainly as he awkwardly takes the spot next to me on the bed.

“So…” he begins with a deep sigh. “Do you feel like telling me what’s making you so sad?”

Pressing my lips together, I focus my energy on keeping my voice as steady as possible. “Richard and I broke up.”

A moment goes by, and then he curses under his breath. “That bastard—”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about!” I snap back at him.

“All I know is it’s Chrimas and you’re hiding up here, completely heartbroken.”

“But why do you just assume it must be his fault? You’re bent on hating him—you didn’t try, not even for a second—”

“Lorelei, please,” he interjects. “I’m just looking out for you.”

“Well, you must be happy then? I messed everything up with him, so you got your wish,” I reply bitterly, then bite the inside of my cheek to swallow back my sobs.

Dad sighs, looking up at the ceiling as he passes his hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

Hesitantly, we both turn to face each other again.

“I’m not quite sure how to explain what I felt when I saw you with him—a man almost twenty years older than you—but I’m ashamed to say that I did doubt his intentions toward you because of it. And then you told us you’re colleagues on top of it, and, well, I felt like I needed to protect you. Against him.

“But am I happy that you’ve broken up? Of course not. I can never be happy when you’re so clearly heartbroken, and I’m not too proud to admit that I misjudged him.” I frown, unsure what to make of his words. “I wasn’t thinking straight that evening, but only a fool wouldn’t notice the way he looks at you. And the way he spoke about you … well, it’s obvious he loves you very much, and I suppose I’d be a really terrible father if I hated him for it.”

Love. There it is again, that word I have struggled with so much and so desperately wish I had had the courage to speak aloud sooner.

“You love him, too, don’t you?”

Despite the ache in my heart and the tears in my eyes, I smile. “I do.”

Dad smiles. “Well, I don't know how you messed things up with him, as you put it, but I'm sure it's not too late to make things right. And If you haven’t told him yet that you love him, promise me you will soon?”

“Promise,” I say with a wet giggle before allowing him to pull me into his arms. His words cannot erase his disastrous first meeting with Richard, but they comfort me nonetheless.

We remain in this embrace for a while longer before rejoining the party downstairs. Through the bay window in the sitting room, I see that outside, it has begun to snow.

—

Taglist: @lathalea @linasofia @mcchiberry @fizzyxcustard @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @i-did-not-mean-to @xxbyimm @middleearthpixie @enchantzz @myselfandfantasy @notlostgnome @laurfilijames @swoopswishsward @quiall321

Let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from my taglist or tagged in future chapters!💙

#richard armitage #richard armitage fanfic #richard armitage x oc #richard armitage x reader #richard armitage x you #professor au #office hours

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countrymusiclover · 2 years

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10 - What Am I To Him?

Part 11

Other Hoyt's Off Limits

Tag list- just ask to be added @stoneyggirl2 @dragonixfrye

5 years ago

John Wayne was off helping his father with something, leaving me to sit out on the front porch of the caretaker's cabin by myself until he came back. Hugging my knees to my chest I was wearing one of his spare jackets since it was cold tonight. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing on our property?”

Lifting my head up from my knees I saw a figure in the dark until my eyes adjusted seeing it was his brother Rand. “You’re brother invited me over but got called to help by your daddy.” JW said he preferred to be out here by himself late like this.

“Well if that’s a lie then you’re a trust passer on our land.” He smirked, swinging his ax around in his hands. “Here I was thinking’ Blake already had a girl. I guess I can’t blame him for wanting two at a time.”

Rolling my eyes I didn’t want to talk about my sister with him. I could care less who she dated and what she did with them. Blake was good from what I had seen but he wasn’t going to make his father happy unless he took over the ranch. “It’s not Blake, I’m here with JW actually.”

“So you’ve got a thing for cowboys huh. Well I bet I can rock your little world better than he can.” He smirked quickly running up the stairs, securing his arms around my waist. I stumbled backwards, getting trapped in between him and the wall.

Struggling against his grip he had me caged in while he started to remove my jacket. “Rand, let me go!” I grunted not having as much muscles as him so he was able to remove my jacket but before he could tear my shirt he smirked, shoving his lips onto mine.

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy this. I’ll call you darlin’ if you like that.” He teased in my ear whispering low with me squirming underneath him until a gunshot rang behind us.

Rand slightly pulled away from me allowing me the chance to see his brother standing in the headlights of the rover holding his shotgun. “Get off her, Rand or I’ll shoot you where you stand.”

“Awe come on, bro. I was showing your girl a good time.” He slumped his shoulders watching JW slowly walk up the stairs aiming the shotgun at him until he separated from me.

John Wayne glared at his brother until he headed off back to where he came from. He slowly sat the shotgun down staring at me. “You alright, Mal. He didn’t hurt you too bad did he?”

Wrapping my arms around myself I noticed my shirt was slightly torn but other than that he didn’t really do much. “He didn’t hurt me, JW. Thank you for protecting me though. I didn’t think you’d be back.”

“I got done early and then I heard your screaming coming this way.” He responded by pulling me into a hug. Wrapping my arms around his neck I laid my head on his chest sighing in relief. “Don’t you worry, Mallory. A cowboy will always protect you.”

Starting to enter the sheriff station my phone rang off in my pocket. Answering it I didn’t bother looking at the caller ID just pressing it to my ear. “This is detective Mallory, who is this?”

“Oh and here I was thinking you wouldn’t have forgotten your girlfriend, Mal.” I recognized the voice of the last living Kleinsasser child, Cheyenne.

Leaning against the stone wall I held my phone up to my ear with my shoulder. My hair was completely loose down my shoulders not expecting her to be calling me or heck even have my number still. We haven’t talked since she killed JW. “Hey a hey, what exactly are you calling about this time? Also how did you get my number? I thought you and I agreed to not talk to each other anymore.”

“I kept your number in my phone and there’s something we need to talk about at the ranch. Are you free to come by today?” She asked me through the phone.

Throwing my head back I sighed heavily not wanting to get into whatever drama she was wanting today. Ever since my sister and I had met her family it always came with trouble shortly afterwards. “I don’t know. I have a busy day at work and then a date later tonight.” It would just be easier to hang up the phone then go back to that ranch.

“I promise it will be quick. It’s just something that I found and I wanted to know if it was true.” She pleaded with me where I finally caved entering the old address which felt strange. The drive was a lot longer than I remember it to be before I climbed out of my truck seeing her leaning against the front door.

“So what is it you need to tell me, Kliensasser?” I asked shoving my hands in the pockets of my jeans standing at the edge of the steps.

Cheyenne opened the front door and I followed shortly afterwards. The two of us walked through the living room until she opened the door to the office handing me a paper. “I found this in my daddy’s office. It says that it is a wedding contract meaning if JW got the ranch. Then you and your children would get the ranch.”

“Cheyenne, I don’t understand. We never married and we certainly didn’t have any kids. I am still a virgin.” I spat not believing what she was trying to tell me. Throwing my hands up seeing her sternly looking at me.

“I know you didn’t sleep with him, Mallory. But I just need you to tell me if you want anything to do with the ranch. According to this contract my brother was going to give you this place when he died.” She huffed, flipping her hair over her shoulders. “But I guess you don’t care now what with you hanging around that new sheriff in your town. Did my brother mean nothing to you!”

Turning around on my heels I didn’t need to hear anymore of this. “Of course he meant something up until the moment he killed his own brother and then Rosie. You know it’s because of this family that I am terrified someone may not like me ever again. So goodbye Cheyenne. You can have the ranch to yourself just like you wanted!”

Slamming my truck door closed I just hit the steering wheel a couple of times out of frustration. Why would she think I would come after her family’s ranch. Is that all I ever was or will be to someone. Someone they have to worry about taking what they want out of life. Maybe Beau is just using me to get to my sister. Driving out to his place it was dark by the time I got out of the truck seeing him sitting in a lawn chair with another one pulled up next to him. “Hey Mallory. I didn’t see you at work today. Is everything alright?”

“My past came back to accuse me of something I never wanted in the first place.” I scoffed feeling some nervous tear’s starting to slip down my face at the thought of my next question. “Beau, are you just using me to get close to my sister….because honestly everyone in my past has used me or lied to me and I just need to know.”

He sat his beer bottle down on the ground quickly rising to his feet drawing me in for a hug. “Mallory, no way would I ever do that to you. I care about you a lot. So don’t think for a second I would ever cheat on you or do anything to hurt you.” Wrapping my arms around his neck I sobbed into his shirt feeling him wrap his arms around my waist.

“Thank you, Beau. I….I’m just afraid to open my heart so easily again like I did. I don’t want to get hurt again like with John Wayne.” I mutter breaking the hug still letting his hands rest on my waist staring down at me with those green eyes of his.

The Texas sheriff smiled, raising his right hand to my cheek, tucking hair behind my ear. “Trust me, Mallory. I won’t break your heart. In fact I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“Beau I, “ I was truly at a loss for words at what he just said. We hadn’t been dating that long. A couple months at best I would say. Yet here he was standing in front of me saying he might be in love with me.

“You don’t have to say it if you’re not ready. I totally get that given what you have been through. I just wanted you to know-“ I cut off his ramblings leaning up on my toes suddenly and slowly crashing my lips onto his. He gasped stumbling a little before I felt his other hand come to cradle my face in his hands, deepening the kiss.

We were so focused on the kiss with me gripping his shoulders and one of his hands gangling itself in my hair that we didn’t hear a car pull up. A car door slammed shut and someone gasping is what drove us apart seeing my sister standing there stunned holding a case of beer in her freehand. “Mallory, Beau. Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on because it looks like you’ve been lying this whole time!”

Beau and I just froze in our places as I muttered under my breath wishing we had a way out of this. “Oh where’s Cassie with a phone call when you need her?” Because I knew my sister would be furious to hear our little secret.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

Hey readers, to be honest I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to happen in this chapter except for another flashback of John Wayne and Mallory. Then I also wanted the ending with Jenny. So please send in ideas of what should happen in the next part because that would be super helpful

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moth-feeet · 1 year

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lately i’ve been seeing lots of posts on here saying things like “how to be a better person”, or “how to be a classy woman” and while i think they have the right ideas at heart, they’re just being very obtuse with the words they choose.

to be a better person you don’t have to speak 7 languages, or only eat raw vegan, or even let everyone tell you their problems.

to be classy you don’t have to have perfectly flat, fly-away-free glossy hair.

the people i see saying these things aren’t thinking about actually being better;

to be good isn’t to be perfect, to be classy doesn’t mean you have to be a white woman with straight blonde hair.

what made me a much better person was realizing i wasn’t a good person.

most of the people giving this advice don’t realize it’s not going to change your life, it won’t make you smart or kind to wear the colors that match your skin tone best. though you might look great, that doesn’t solve the pain.

i think you all deserve some advice from someone with mental illness, who isn’t vegan, who isn’t perfectly tidy, or even popular.

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ

i became a softer, kinder, person when i sat down and saw who i really was, a self centered, mean, sad, bully.

i am fortunate enough to has access to therapy, which absolutely helped me but i did a lot more growth on my own. i’m not gonna say journal, or do shadow work because that meant nothing to me at the time, not to say i don’t journal but whatever, what actually helped me was spending time outside.

i called it “outside time”, original i know, but genuinely everyday for months straight i would go out on the porch in the mornings (i started in winter and through spring - cooler months are best) and i would sit. alone. with nothing but my mind, a piece of paper and a pencil, and the sound of birds and the breeze. it became integral for my day, i had to do it or i didn’t have a good day. these moments were the times i wrote my best poems, or saw myself as who i truly was. i got back into reading and ate through book after book.

spending time outside with nothing but the universe and classical music playing gave me time to ask the universe some questions. i asked her how i got here, what i need to change, why she lead me to this realization, and i got my answer every time.

no, god didn’t come down and speak to me, the stars didn’t write it out, and no one actually said anything. the universe told me through memories, late night conversations with myself, and daydreams of better lives.

i picked up some things through this healing process that i think had a hand in my softening.

baking, cooking in general. though it started as a new year resolution, i learned it’s my love language. sharing my recipes and taking requests, it makes me feel wanted.

i started sleeping better, which was a breakthrough for me. i was prescribed a sleeping medication for chronic insomnia, and it’s helped a lot.

i started spending more time on self care.

now this is what i saw a lot of in the posts i was talking about. i saw lots of, “start a keto diet, start doing face masks, shower twice a week, always go on a run or workout!”

but that’s not what i mean. i started washing my makeup off at night, a revelation for someone with such awful depression at the time. i started brushing my teeth which certainly wasn’t a priority when i was rotting in bed everyday. i learned how to properly care for my curls. i even just left dr.pepper for tea. don’t get me wrong i have a dr.pepper sat next to me right now. i never cut it out i just laid off it.

one of the far more controversial aspects i changed was, not letting everybody dump their trials and tribulations onto me. i have always been very empathetic and therefore seen as a person to talk to about your troubles. and while i tried my best, i don’t have the advice a 50 year old woman in the middle of a divorce is looking for (and i was asked for it). i didn’t just let people tell me what they were going through. it seems cruel but it really helped me let go. i always described my mental health as those statues in dispicable me that slowly get crushed. and most of that came from listening to everyone’s thoughts and also carrying my own.

inevitably i had to stop. i had to let people know i wasn’t the person who could help them, and when i would listen my advice was, “i suggest you talk to someone better equipped for these issues”. i lead a lot of people to school counseling, or even social services at times. but i never forced them to take the steps to get better, because they were never my responsibility.

of course i wanted to help, sometimes i understood more than you could imagine, i never said it, because when someone reached out for help i chose to grab their hand and lead them to the real recuse team. because you and i are not trained therapists, we aren’t cps, we aren’t letting ourselves be crushed.

growing for me meant guiding people to the people who helped me. i wasn’t mentally prepared for someone to share a trauma or a struggle, i had and still have my own to work through.

all this is to say; no one grows the same way. maybe for some, reading classic literature changed their mentality in life, but i find books from the 1800s boring; and maybe some people feel classiest in all gold jewelry, maybe i don’t get it.

that’s just not what i think would save me. so, if you’re trying to carry yourself with more kindness, if you want to be the ‘it girl’, if you plan to be your best. before you jump to a new wardrobe or a drastic diet change, try spending time with your head. no stimulation, no music or books or anything. sit and color in a coloring book by an open window. ask the universe how you got here, and wait.

frighting with your head won’t get you where you dream to be, sometimes work has to stop for you to start again.

i really hope that the people who truly do want to change, find the right ways to.

with all my love, i am rooting for you.

love, K

#girlblogging #coquette #dark feminine aesthetic #girl interrupted #female hysteria #femcel #lana del rey #self healing #kindness

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iloveyoukyra · 6 months

Text

4/3/24 2:41pm

Again a lot of shit happened so I’m just gonna sum it up. Edit: omg it’s so long I’m sorry

I forgot exactly how it happened I think we just scheduled to talk. We talked and I finally dropped the bomb I’m leaving for a while very soon. I started crying, I was very upset and I didn’t want to go. I miss you and I like it here better and I just don’t want to go. You comforted me and I retracted saying if you don’t want to give me this I don’t want it, I rather you leave. You comforted me and again you got affectionate. You let me kiss your neck and such and you did the same. You said I can’t kiss you on the lips and I respected that boundary. You were the one who broke it, even making it a bit sexual. You bit me making me moan, and you left marks. It made me so upset because I just wanted anything you’d give me even if it physically hurt. You also leaned me back on the bed kissing me. It felt so good. It confused me but I was ok with it. We ate, sat on the porch, and got ice cream. I asked something like what are we gonna do when we get home? And you got mad you said that you have stuff to do and that this is it. You then expressed that I should be fine with what you offer and not expect so much, and should respect your boundaries. You also said it’s emotionally manipulative because it makes you feel guilty. I explained that I asked that because I wanted to clarify what we are doing as in, are we doing something or should I get ready for bed, I wasn’t proposing anything more or begging for more and that I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty. On the car ride home I got upset and expressed how sad I was and I didn’t want to do this. I was really upset. You snapped at me saying “this is your choice, I don’t like how you’re trying to emotionally manipulate me to feel guilty” and I was genuinely confused. I was just trying to confide in you, I apologized and tried explaining it.

The entire night you’d sprinkle in little bits of sexually charged things but then would follow up with hurtful things. Like “eventually you’ll want another girl to do this”. I don’t get why’d you’d ruin the moment for me like that after you see how much it meant to me. I also noticed when we were “spending time” together like eating or hanging out on the porch, you were on your phone ignoring me and texting others when I was trying to engage. It reminded me about how this was an issue we had in our relationship and it made me sad seeing it still persistent outside it too. It made me think a lot about how maybe I’m that boring or undeserving, but I know that’s not true. I deserve basic human respect and you just can’t give that to me sometimes. It made me think about how I shouldn’t have to sit there and feel horrible. It made me sad seeing you treat me like that Kyra. I just was unhappy seeing you treat me poorly all night, accusing me of this and that and then treating me with little respect, then just doing whatever you wanted to me without even really asking when I always do. It was uncomfortable to watch but needed.

I forgot exactly what happened between us these next days, I think we were in minimal contact and I hung out with my friends a bit.

I believe you bread crumbed me again and I got pissed so I stopped reciprocating. You tried to hug me without asking and I pushed you off and said no. I was mad because when I do it I always ask but when you do, you don’t?

When I was hanging out with them I told them how ugly I felt and they freaked out on me. They all told me that I was very attractive and stuff. I though they were just saying to make a bro feel better. One of them asked me a question that made me really uncomfortable they asked “do you think you’re ugly? Or did she make you feel ugly?”. I don’t think I’m the most attractive so yeah it’s also a me issue, but I remember reading through my journal always criticizing myself for not being attractive enough for you. I always seemed to think I was unattractive because of how inconsistent your affection and attention was. It always felt like I had to fight for it in some way and it was because I was lacking. I was so hard on myself. I was so unhappy with myself. It made me so upset to come to terms with this. My friends gave me so much reassurance so quickly and so easily.

It was a difficult night for me. I hung out with another friend that night and we talked a lot about it. She’s a great listener. I HATE talking about it and you. I don’t like to. I don’t like thinking about it even. Talking about it made me feel sad and confused. My friend started crying and I did a bit too but I cried because I was beginning to realize what was happening to me.

I gave you back your stuff and you started to panic. I still have more stuff to give you unfortunately.

While you were panicking all of a sudden you became very affectionate. Crying into me and you started to hold me and just cry. It was very confusing because earlier that week you pushed me away saying it was wrong, or too much for you, then you switched up again. You told me how much of an asshole I was being because I was giving back gifts, love letters, photos. You asked me what to do with them and I said throw them away or keep them I don’t want them. Lies. I want them. I still do. I can’t do it right now, and I can’t keep them physically near me anymore. I don’t trust myself. You yelled at me to get out and I did.

I knocked on your door again to give you more stuff and You told me how much you miss me rn and how you’re going to miss me when I leave. You kept saying I don’t want you to go and begged me not to. The switch up is crazy for me. A couple days prior you were hostile about it “this is your choice, you’re making this decision!” now your upset? It’s confusing. You asked me if I still loved you and I knew what I wanted to say but I felt my teeth grit and I said “I asked you that a couple of days ago, and you responded with “I don’t know what love is”, I wonder how that made me feel?” And you just began to cry more and started trying to explain why you said that but I stopped listening. You then said “you’re right I don’t deserve to know I’m a bad person.” And to that I said nothing. I just held you. There was a lot more that happened. We talked about our relationship for a bit. You asked me how could I go from begging for you one day to wanting nothing to do with you

Then you were like you need to leave. You said something about reaching out to me. I said I wouldn’t and you asked if I was blocking you and I told you this is something for me to decide once I leave. I’m not reaching out again. I’ve begged, embarrassed and humiliated myself to get a lick of your attention, even when I do it doesn’t feel like you value my presence anyways. If you want me you have to prove that to me. It was horribly difficult for me.

I know 2 days ago I think we were supposed to hangout and we just cuddled and loved on each other. I asked you why the switch up, what happened to “this is wrong, pushing me away, telling me to leave.” You said now that you understand I understand “this is over” you feel more comfortable showing how you truly feel. That whole thing doesn’t make any sense to me but I didn’t care at the moment. Now it just sounds wrong and doesn’t sit right with me. It felt good at the time. You then made it sexual. You said you wanted to and I said I did too. I gave you what you wanted but when it was my turn you expressed how you wanted to but you didn’t feel good. I’m not upset about that at all. I get it. I noticed that the last 2 times it’s been like that though and I feel insecure/scared you’re just using me a bit. Then you said you felt like you were going to throw up and left. I felt sad, embarrassed, ashamed, and confused. I’m not accusing you of anything, I’m not asking for more, I understand and respect your boundaries, but it seems like when you don’t want to reciprocate you just toss me to the side after you get what you want. It hurts to secretly feel this way. It’s embarrassing.

After that you’ve been asking me everyday if I’m going to leave. You keep telling me you want to see me. It makes me scared and nervous. You also have been affectionate every time I see you almost, even sexual. I got changed yesterday and you felt me up before I left. You’ll tell me you love me, you miss me etc. it’s complete whiplash. I’m used to cowering in my room to avoid you but now it’s like I don’t need to.

Yesterday was not fun for me. It was mental torment. We hung out for a min in the morning and then you told me to leave and I left. I went to the doctors and the mall and had fun! I came home and you were affectionate felt me up when I got changed into my bathing suit then said you had something to do you’ll see me maybe tomorrow. I was like ok and left to hangout with a friend. We went on a picnic and smoked a bit. We just talked about life. It was nice. I felt happy to be valued and listened to! I genuinely had lots of fun even though the bugs were AWFUL. Well, things shifted. She asked me if I wanted to cuddle and I said I’d be ok holding hands if that’s ok. We held hands and she started to feel my muscles (I was wearing a tight tank top). She said she has never felt muscles before and she said mine were really nice, even joked asking if I was flexing. It was very flattering and I felt myself feel gooey inside. I was working really hard on myself, I know I could see it, but I didn’t know if any one else could. That made me feel really happy. I genuinely felt a little joy!!! Somehow she moved from my arms to my stomach and chest and she said in a soft tone “you feel really nice” and I laughed and thanked her saying I better bc it took lots of work. She held my arms and caressed them saying how attractive they were bc of the veins and how muscular they were. I haven’t felt so seen and flattered in so long. It felt wrong to be touched by another girl and to be flattered by her interests and compliments. I told her this felt wrong. I felt guilty, ashamed, and embarrassed. Most importantly I felt extremely panicked and sick to my stomach. It was like someone drove a knife into my stomach and twisted it. We agreed this would not be happening again.

This experience was uncomfortable but insightful. I don’t like this girl, I’m not attracted to her, I would never pursue anything but a friendship but I did enjoy the feeling she gave me. The feeling was bittersweet. I felt uncomfortable because I don’t trust her, I don’t know her hygiene, I don’t like her like that, I want someone else to do this with me. It’s like Washing Machine Heart by Mitski

“I know who you pretend I am” 😭💀

I was not looking at her the entire time only up at the clouds. I didn’t want it to be her I wanted it to be Kyra, but I knew it wasn’t. It felt wrong to use someone. Was I using her if she wanted it? She knew this was nothing too.

I also felt bad because it felt so good. It was like a slap in the face. I felt happy. I felt content! I felt secure! I felt somewhat comfortable! I smiled and kicked my feet. I knew that this was not a thing that would happen again, there are no feelings, this was it, this moment right here was it, and I was ok with that and that was enough for me. I wasn’t upset, I didn’t expect something else, I walked away and said “see you when I see you next :D!” and waved knowing I shared a piece of me with someone and got to take it back home with me!

In that moment I realized how different Kyra’s affection feels. I am stressed, nervous, scared, guilty, angry, hurt, and always on eggshells with her affection. She gives it to me and then rips it out underneath me. She tells me how wrong it is, how bad it is, it makes me feel terrible about my feelings and myself. It makes me feel like everything I’m feeling is wrong, I’m doing the wrong things, I am wrong. When she takes it away I recoil awfully like I’ve been burned terribly, but after I sit there and I’m like “I should’ve known what did you expect Jordan? This is what happens everytime!”. I feel pathetic and drained after. when I pull myself back together that’s when she comes back. It feels different. I feel sad all the time and scared, with my friend I felt good I smiled, laughed, and truly enjoyed the moment. Kyra makes me go into fight or flight mode once she’s done with me. I’m always in high alert when to expect her to be done with me. That’s not normal. It should feel like let’s just enjoy each other and the moment, we may not be here tomorrow. Not “I want this, ok I’m done bye”. It’s not normal for me to feel this way. I should feel secure, valued, and appreciated without any doubts. I shouldn’t have to be on high alert, I shouldn’t have to be suspicious of ulterior motives. This is wrong, and that’s what makes me so sad. I realized how much things have changed between us and it makes me sick to my stomach. I want things to feel normal again between us but I know they can’t and they may never will. It hurts because I know at one point it felt way better than what my friend gave me. What we had was enough for me. Now it’s only hurting me. That’s why I have to leave too. I love you but I can’t keep hurting myself because of your instability and uncertainty. I can’t keep doing this to myself. The future is horrifying to look into, but I know what’s meant for me will make it known and that I will trust in.

I wish Kyra could be that for me now, and I hope she can be in the future but I’m going to heal first before even considering that.

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vodka-redbull-daily · 10 months

Text

October 21st, 2023

*Graphic Sexual Content*

I took a little bit of a nap before getting up again at midnight. I had told D-- that I was going into work today and originally that had been my plan. Back when we had made this plan like a week ago. D-- was very clearly a fake name or nickname but I don’t really care. It’s not like I’m actually looking to get to know him on that kind of level. If he wants to use a fake name, it’s whatever. Honestly, I should probably also do that. All the way back when I used to try and sell feet pics, I went by Erin Red. Maybe I should pick up that alias again. he seems pretty okay with me only being able to come see him after I get off work which is way too fucking early in the morning. he lives all the way out and Elgin too. That was a full hour drive from where I am. but he wants to pay me 400. might as well go.

We've been sexting throughout the week. I guess that's what it is. I keep saying messaging, texting, talking to, but I guess when you get down to it it is sexting. role-playing out sexual encounters through the phone, him constantly sending me dick pics, talking about what he was going to do to me when he finally got a hold of me. I've been talking this way with B--, S--, and probably pretty much most of them if I think about it. and for some reason it didn't hit me until just now that I was sexing them. and that I probably should be charging for it. Maybe my mom was right. Maybe I am too much of a slut for my own good. I was honestly just enjoying myself and didn't even think about charging for it.

I got dressed and texted him that I was leaving. I was out the door by 1:00. I stopped at the gas station on the way there to fill up since we would be such a long drive and also got some red bull. i need that caffeine to keep me awake and Spunky since I had already had so much sex today and was honestly caught off guard by how good it was with B------. I was kind of hoping it would be mostly a let down like it was with everybody else. I'm all for sleeping with three different people in one day, but I was still a little bit sore from B------. don't get me wrong, I liked it. feeling sore between my thighs actually continuously turned around throughout the day and that little bit of blood in my underwear got me all hot.

One of the good things about it being so early in the morning, or late at night however you want to read it, was that there were almost no other cars on the road. I really don't think I would have gone if I had had to go during the day and fight traffic as well as Drive the entire hour. instead, I mostly just Cruised along the hallway there. Since it's out in the middle of nowhere, the stars look really nice.

When I got there, I really thought he had either gone to sleep or he had sent me to the wrong address. The entire house was completely dark and the driveway was encircled with trees. I sent him a text and he confirmed that he was in fact there and was actually sitting on the porch. it was just so dark I couldn't see shit. so, I walked up to go say hi to him. For some reason, he just grabbed me and hugged me immediately. I don't know why that was. Maybe I felt less awkward for him but it felt way more Awkward for me. We sat on the porch for a little bit while he had a cigarette and it was really cold since I was wearing shorts and a crop top. He was very old. I mean I should have guessed that since his profile said he was 55 and his pictures showed an older man. but I guess I just forgot that he was actually that old.

so frail, voice doing that weird shaky thing that old people do. and the hug, I could even feel how loose his skin was on his bones. the lack of muscle mass. the beer belly poking out despite there being pretty much no other meat anywhere else on his bones. We sat outside and talked for a little bit about engineering stuff. He was talking about something about how his father had owned a factory that made pizza trays. I didn't really care that much to be honest. Soon enough, we ended up going back to his bedroom.

Once in the bedroom, he wanted to make out for a little bit. We did that as he slowly started to remove my clothes with his shaky ass hands. He made a comment about me being quieter in person that I was over text. I don't think guys understand the difference between having a conversation like that over text versus doing it in real life. I don't have time to think about the response, have time to type it out, see that it looks weird, and redo it. whatever. It wasn't very long before he took off his pants and had me suck his dick.

He had me suck his dick for so long. for such a long time I was just bobbing up and down on his dick as we would get hard and then go soft again. He really was against me using my hands, apparently really excited by the fact that I had to chase his dick around with my mouth. It was so incredibly boring for me. We went on this for like 20 or 30 minutes. just me sucking his dick while nothing else was happening. He would make all these horrible old man noises. Finally, he had me bend over with my ass in the air and put on a condom. He made some joke about not wanting any more kids. He had barely got to dick inside me when it went soft again.

so, we went back to just sucking. so much to sucking trying to get it hard again. this time, it was just a limp noodle for quite some time. I don't know why I was fighting so hard to get the hard again. probably because I was horny as fuck at that point and wanted to actually get dicked. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I could honestly have sex all day long. I'm probably not tired of it. Maybe I should see a doctor about it.

It took another 20 to 30 minutes, but eventually he was up and at ‘em again. I guess he realized that he shouldn't waste this opportunity since it might not ever happen again. He put on a new condom, again had my ass up in the air and this time successfully put his dick inside me. He pumped in and out about four times before he came. It was a mixed bag of emotions about it being so short. On the one hand, I obviously didn't cum from that. on the other, I kind of didn't want to be fucking this old man for hours and preferred it to be shorter rather than longer. Also, he was leaning very heavily on my shoulder, almost as if all of his weight was being pressed down on that hand and it was kind of hurting.

He apologized for it being so short, but in the same breath was complimenting himself about how good his dick was. He also said that he thought that he was so big that he was hurting me. I know I make a lot of noise in bed and most of the time it's not even for show. I just make noise. but for some reason he confused my usual moans and whippers for cries of pain, I guess. We laid there for a little bit more, made out for a little bit, then we got dressed again. I think I'm starting to realize that going more than one round per person is not very common. I guess I'm just spoiled. with Him, we used to go over and over again. for hours at a time. we would soak through all the sheets, he would use two or three condoms. I guess that's what I'm looking for and I'm not going to be able to find it here.

I got my money off the counter. Four crisp $100 bills. actually, it was more like two brand new crisp $100 bills on two very old, very wrinkled $100 bills. I made a joke to D----- that they matched him. She was disgusted, but also found it funny. On the drive home, I saw a little bit of a high speed chase, I guess. it was literally the middle of nowhere and a cop was following pretty close behind me. I was a little bit worried since my registration has been out for months now and I don't have insurance. He was so far behind me and he had his lights on already that I really didn't know what to do. Then, I noticed that he was actually following this big van. like one of those kidnapper type bands. The van didn't have his lights on so that's why I hadn't seen it at first, but they were pretty quickly catching up to me and I was speeding a little bit.

(I always speed a little bit. sue me)

The van and the cops weren't going incredibly fast, but they were definitely going faster than me. He came all the way from miles and miles behind me before they both finally passed me. I kind of pulled a little over to the side because I wasn't really sure what was going on. I just wanted to get out of their way. if the van was helping the cops, then it wouldn't want to be on their way in case the cops got pissed off at me for being too slow. and if the van wasn't helping the cops, then I didn't really want to help out the cops because fuck that shit. on the other hand, depending on what the van was in trouble for, maybe I should have helped? who cares. again, they weren't actually driving that fast so I don't know if it was really a chase. It was just weird. They drove past me, again not zooming past me, just driving, and ended up getting so far ahead of me that it wasn't really my problem anymore.

Total Earned: $1,400

Body Count: 7

Dick Pics: 6

Sex Ranking:

B------

Him

T-----

R--

T-----

D--

M---

#blog #daily blog #suagr baby #suagr dating #vodka redbull #my writing #spilled thoughts

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