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lunarliza · 4 years

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Dirty Little Secret | Chapter 3: Bandanas

fuckbuddy!JJ x Kook!Reader

series masterlist | prev. chapter | chapter one

You and JJ are fuck buddies- strictly physical. But what happens when you find yourself falling more and more for everyone’s favorite golden boy even though all he can see you as is a spoiled rich girl?

Your eyes peeled open. You groaned at the lack of sleep as you shifted to your bedside table to check your phone. Almost immediately after your rendezvous the night before, JJ dashed out the window, leaving you to drift to sleep.

Sometimes, you’d get this weird feeling after he would leave so quickly- like you were being used. Well, you were, but you hated feeling like it. It was like a comedown after the euphoria of sex and it didn’t always feel the best, but you dealt with it. It had be going on for almost three months; you were way too in over your head at this point.

You sighed, staring at the wall across your bed, thinking back to the remnants of that first night. How nasty and humid the air felt as you both rejoined the party after like nothing happened:

“You can’t tell anyone about what just happened,” JJ stated as he fixed his shorts.

His words did pierce you slightly, but you put on a front nevertheless. “Please, I’d rather be caught dead than with you.”

He chuckled to himself as you both trudged down the beach. “That’s not what I heard back there princess.”

It didn’t take long for your parents to blow up your phone that night, seeing it was 3 a.m. and their daughter was nowhere to be found. You came home with the smell of alcohol emitting through your clothes.You only hoped you had wiped off enough smeared mascara on the car ride home to deter them. Your mother read you the riot act as Ted stood in the corner of the kitchen. She screamed and hollered before her palm finally came in contact with your cheek.

The following Monday, you ditched last period and drove over to The Cut, hoping to come across JJ. Driving along a narrow street, you see the shirtless golden boy mowing the lawn in a small yard. Pulling up, you rolled the windows down while a devilish grin snaked its way to his lips once he caught sight of you.

“Couldn’t stay away from me huh?”

You glared at him. “Just shut up and get in.”

Shutting off the lawn mower, he hopped in your car, smelling of sweat and freshly cut grass .

“Look,” you began, fiddling with the ends of your blouse, “I’m not looking for anything serious.”

JJ’s finger tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. It was different seeing them in broad daylight. He didn’t seem like some sleazy Pogue you met at a party. He actually reminded you of a puppy... an annoying one with anger issues.

“I understand if-”

“No, I get you,” he answered, biting his lower lip. “After the way we fucked that night, I’m down to... go at it again.”

“Okay but we need rules,” you insisted to which he rolled his eyes. “What’s with chicks and rules?”

“This island is small and talk gets around. No one can know about us.”

“Well duh.” He gave you an annoyed look. “You may think you’re all that and a bag of chips but my friends would totally clown me if they found out I was with a Kook, much less you.”

“Oh please! What do you even know about me?” you retorted, not having his attitude outburst.

“Y/n, you’re like bitchiest of them all,” he replied snarkily and your eyes met the ceiling of your car. “Not even the Kooks like you.”

“Shut up, asshole.” You tried to hide the hurt from the fact that even he knew about your reputation. “Anyways, rule number two: we have to meet on Figure Eight.”

“Hell no, why do I have to haul my ass to you?”

You sighed heavily, gripping the bottom of the steering wheel. “My stepdad will literally kill me if he finds me here. Look, I know all the hiding places there and I’ll even get you a keycard to get in through the gate.”

JJ smiled to himself. “Kill you huh? And yet, here you are, coming here, practically begging for me to fuck you. What will daddy think about that?”

You contemplated punching him in that moment. “Don’t flatter yourself. You followed me that night remember?”

JJ shrugged, leaning back in the seat. “I thought you were a touron. It was dark- sue me. Anyways, fine! We meet at the Eight. Anything else?”

“This goes without saying, but absolutely no feelings,” you stated sternly as JJ snorted.

“Oh princess, you do not have to worry about that whatsoever.”

“Fine then, it’s a deal.”

You both shook on it. JJ held onto your hand a moment longer to tug you onto the passenger seat, colliding his lips with yours. It didn’t take you both very long to undress and climb into the back seat afterwards.

A loud knock on your bedroom door startled you. “Y/n! Breakfast in ten minutes!”

Peeling off your duvet, you leaped out of bed and started doing some small stretches until you noticed a jumbled up grey bandana on your window seat.

“Fucking kid,” you muttered to yourself before reaching for it and throwing it in a bin on your shelf.

JJ was klepto alright. He also had a terrible habit of leaving shit everywhere he went. If he tried to rob a bank, he’d be caught in seconds because he’d leave some trace of him. Over the course of your agreement you unintentionally started making a collection of the things he left. What started out as a bracelet on your nightstand grew to socks, lighters, hats, sunglasses, tank tops, and the occasional perfectly rolled joint (that he’d never see again). You always meant to give back all the shit he left, but he’d always leave so hurriedly that you’d forget and the collection would just grow.

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“Jade!” you blurted unexpectedly as you strolled into the kitchen. “What are you doing here?”

The small brunette sat next to your mother at the table, halfway done with her breakfast plate. She flashed you her killer sunny smile as your mom chimed in from her seat. “Jade here was in the neighborhood and wanted to take you on a boat ride this morning with the Cameron family.”

“It’ll be fun y/n!” she insisted, kicking her tiny legs that didn’t reach the floor.

You were a little confused as to why you were invited to hang out with the Cameron kids seeing as they have always ignored you at school and every event. Jade caught on and threw you a look that said ‘just go with it’.

“Um, yeah. I’m really excited to hang out with uh- Sierra and Ra- her brother,” you babbled, earning yourself an ‘Are you fucking kidding me’ look. You shrugged your shoulders, helping yourself to some eggs and pancakes.

“Well sweetie, I think it’s great that you’re getting to know more people around here! Don’t forget you do need an escort for the Debutante Ball in a few weeks so maybe you can ask the Cameron boy to take you,” your mother suggested and Jade nearly spit out her fruit at the mention of it.

You closed your eyes, sighing. “Yes, of course mother.”

“So when were you going to tell me you’re a debutante!” Jade cackled as you both made way to the Camerons’ boat along the dock.

“If you ever mention it again, I will personally slit your throat.”

“You! You y/n of all people!” She had to suppress her laughter to a fit of giggles. “So wait, you’ve been going to Chapel Hill all this time to learn how to ballroom dance and do all that?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes! I told you my mother is actually insane. Anyways, what are we doing hanging out with the Camerons anyways? I thought you hated their sister.”

“I do,” Jade responded as-a-matter-of-factly, “It’s the brother that’s delicious. Oh- and Sarah won’t be there and neither will their dad or any of their family really. It’s just going to be Rafe and a couple of his friends. He told me to bring some friends too so it won’t be awkward.”

“And you chose me of all people? Jade, you have plenty of other very sociable friends you could have brought.”

“Shut up y/n! You’re hot as shit okay! You just need to get out there more and meet people. Maybe then you won’t hate it here so much. Trust me, once you experience the OBX the right way, you’ll absolutely love it.”

You crinkled your nose at her. “You’re just as insane as my mother.”

“Come on! There are hot guys wanting to take us on their very nice boats. It’s free drinks and maybe some food,” she promised.

You groaned. “Fine, but if any of them make an unsolicited move on me, I’m jumping overboard and swimming home. Also, now that I think about it, isn’t Rafe like way too old to be hanging around us?”

Jade shrugged. “A little age never hurt nobody.” The boys whooped as Jade made her grand entrance onto their very large white boat as you trailed behind. Another thing you weren’t well versed in since moving here- boats. To you it was just big and small, windows and no windows, motor and no motor, but it was like a language here. When everyone would start rambling off about engines and fishing and whatnot you would just kindly smile and nod until they got the hint and walked away.

“Who’s your friend McCoy?” a tall boy with slicked back hair asked Jade as he enclosed an arm around her waist.

“Rafe, this is y/n! She moved here in October and lives on the east end of the Eight.”

So this was the famous Rafe Cameron. You’d seen him a couple times golfing with Ted when you would hide away in the golf cart on your phone. Ted would mention a few times about how he was trouble and, telling by the way he still hung out with high schoolers at almost 20 years old, you believed it.

You smiled uneasily and gave him a tiny wave as two other guys emerged from the front with a cooler. They both coordinated with the colorful short-shorts and printed button ups. They also wore those God-awful tinted sunglasses with the band connecting the backs. You recognized them from school- Topper and Kelce.

“Oh hey y/n,” they greeted tensely, each giving you an awkward smile and one-armed hug. You were in shock they knew your name even.

“McCoy, did you bring anyone else?” Kelce asked, totally not making it obvious of your unwanted presence.

Not even the Kooks like you.

You knew you’d have a hard time the moment you stepped foot onto Figure Eight. You had a very humble upbringing, which was unfathomable to the kids at school, so it was hard for you to make any real friends besides Jade. During the school year, you ate lunch by yourself and sprinted home as soon as the final bell rang. It got to a point where, when anyone would try to talk to you, you’d either roll your eyes or just simply ignore them.

“Nope! Just me and my girl.” Jade flung an arm around your shoulder and handed you a beer. She raised her eyebrows at you to check if you were okay, and you smiled reassuringly, taking the bottle.

“Let’s hope she knows how to hang,” Topper added as he started the engine on the boat.

You sipped on your beer as you rode down the marsh. Kelce tried to make small talk with you as Topper drove and Jade macked on Rafe. It actually wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, Kelce did have the occasional funny story or witty thing to say even if it was about swinging a golf club or purchasing some extravagant item no one ever needed.

“Woah Pogue alert,” you heard Topper warn as he steered next to a smaller boat hanging on the side

You glanced over and immediately met eyes with JJ who was casually laying back with his friends- two dudes and a girl. When he wasn’t acting like a complete jerk, he actually looked down to earth and kind of innocent. Cans of cheap beer littered their deck and a cute little ‘HMS Pogue’ lettering hung from the back.

You turned back to Kelce, thinking it was just a quick pass by until you heard something thump on the side of the boat from their side.

“Fucking rats!” Rafe barked at the group and hurled an open can of beer over towards them.

“That’s for the van you sons of bitches!” you heard JJ holler as Topper slowed down the boat so they were eye-to-eye.

“Hey that’s payback! I know it was you that fucked up my bike, filthy Pogue!” Topper snarled, pointing at JJ, tumbling more shit in their direction.

The throwing escalated into an all-out war. You screamed and joined Jade who was clearly outraged as she ducked under the cooler for cover.

“Rafe, just fucking drop it and let’s go! You’re wasting shit at this point,” she urged also throwing Topper a stern look to get moving.

“This isn’t over!” Rafe roared at the group as Topper sped up the engine again.

“That’s right, just ride along you fucking Kooks! And take your hoes with you!” JJ shouted.

You threw a glare his way at the vulgar name he called you and stuck up middle fingers his way, sailing off.

Fucking tool.

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chapter four

tags: @starkeybaby @obxlife @everydayimfangirling @iamaunicorn4704 @tangledinsparkles @poguesrforlife @thx-quxxn @obxmxybxnk @rororo06 @poguesforlife @ilymarkchan

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enigma-im · 4 years

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Like a Virgin

Rating: Mature Relationship: Incubus x Female!human Warning: betraying of trust, broken friendship, incubus are cum brains, comfort, fluff, no sex

Word Count: 7797

Can an Incubus and a virgin be friends?

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"Tatiana, or Tina. I know it starts with a T. Either way she was crazy, even for my standards! I couldn’t bring myself to say no to her though, her energy was intoxicating," Silas rants. I pay attention for the most part but he caught me in the middle of something. He just kind of started talking. Honestly, I don’t mind his stories, they are funny or interesting most of the time. I secretly think I'm the only one he talks to about this cause I'm the only one who listens. Add comments here and there. Everyone else is too busy trying to get his attention just to get an excuse to look at him.

"Your appetite is going to get you into trouble if you find yourself struggling to say no," I pass him a sly grin. Out the corner of my eye, I see him rest his crossed arms on the table. I feel him staring at me, probably thinking of some stupid joke. I fiddle with my tablet as I finish my document.

"What about you, I can't be the only one having weird sexual adventures. Even someone as quiet as you must have some really kinky shit to tell," Silas rest his head against the table. Just in the corner of my vision. I ignore him for a second as I write my last sentence.

I look over at him," what's that?"

"What's the weirdest sexual encounter you have had," he repeats. I cock an eyebrow, eyeing him for a second.

I turn back to my tablet," I've never had sex." I don’t notice him recoil from me. I open up my email and send over the file to another coworker. Once I finish I turn off my tablet and give Silas my full attention. He looks shocked. His mouth is slightly open and his eyes wide.

"what," I ask.

"You never had sex," he tilts his head. His eyebrows furrowing in concern.

"Nope, never have," I shrug. It's not a big deal, I know if I really wanted to then I can find some stranger. Still, that has never been alluring. I would rather be in a committed relationship before I do anything like that.

"How old are you, aren't you like 24? How can anyone live that long and not at some point had sex," he asks.

"I just haven't, it isn't a big deal," I begin to get embarrassed. When I was a teenager I thought about sex often. As I got older it has lost its appeal. I never dated in college because I was busy with work or school. Then finding a job I didn’t really bother with dating. After 21 I just didn’t care anymore.

Silas doesn’t share my sentiment.

"Is it a religious thing? Are you waiting till marriage or..," he sits down next to me," like you are pretty, I can't imagine you haven't had offers. Then its got to be a personal choice. So spill it, what's up." I begin to fold into myself, his questions making me nervous.

"I just haven't. there haven’t been any situations where I've had the choice. Not that I've put myself into those situations either way. So let's just drop it," I cross my arms and turn away from him. He grabs my chair and turns me back to face him. His face is serious, I've never seen him serious before.

"Are you interested in it? Are you asexual," he keeps questioning. Wanting to get away from his scrutiny I get up, knocking his arm from the chair. I walk around the seat, keeping it between us. "its ok if you are, I'm just trying to wrap my head around this," he tries to clarify.

"I rather not talk about this, if you don’t mind. My break is over so I'm going to go back to my office now," I try to be calm. I'm not going to hold this against him. He is an incubus, so I understand his interest in the topic. It doesn’t mean I have to answer him.

He drops it," alright, sorry. Didn’t mean to pry. Have a nice day, Chloe." with that we part ways.

I don’t see him again till the next day. What a weird day that was too.

"Hey, Chloe," someone stops me in the hall.

"Hey," I look the man over. He is a tall lanky fellow, short black hair and glasses. I remember seeing him around but his name evades me. I think it starts with an R.

"So I heard you are into local bands. You mentioned visiting Ricardo's on Saturdays. I was thinking, my brother's band is playing this weekend and I was curious if you would like to come see him," he asks. The entire time he is talking I'm trying to think of his names. Robert, Richie, Rhett? It takes a second for me to realize he asked a question.

"Oh, this Saturday? I'm going to visit my mother, my cousins are coming in for the weekend so I wanted to stop by and say hi," I answer honestly. I'm curious about his brother's band though. It's nice of him to promote his sibling like this.

He drops his shoulders," right, maybe another weekend then?"

"Yea, just let me know when he plays again. I'll stop by and check him out," I smiled curtly," but I really got to go, see you around?"

"Yea, sure. Later, Chloe," he waves. He looks a little dejected but I can't find myself to care.

The day gets a little weirder when I'm visited by another coworker.

"Chloe, working hard as usual," I look over my desk to Derek. He is a short stout fellow with brown hair. Derek is a funny guy but I found his personality to be too overpowering.

"Of course, hard work promotes better values," I curtly smile. I believe that is the end of the conversation until he steps closer to my desk. He rests his elbows on it, leaning beside me.

"Working hard all the time, when do you ever take a break. Perhaps we can grab lunch later? Get out of the building. I know a nice little pizza joint down the way," he offers.

"No thanks, I'm lactose intolerant so pizza doesn’t agree with me. Also, pizza without cheese is an awful idea. I may not be able to eat it much anymore but I know cheese makes a pizza," I try to joke. I know Derek is being friendly like usual but I can't bring myself to tolerate him today.

"Then how about the Chinese place on by the bank, they ha-,"

"Derek, stop bothering Chloe and get your ass back here," someone calls from out the door. Derek jerks his head over, glaring at the woman down the hall.

He turns back to me with a grin," Guess I have to pester you for a date later, till next time." with that he gets up and leaves. I watch him go with a confused look.

"He was asking me out?"

The time till lunch is filled with men, and a few women, coming up to me. For the most part, I think they were all asking me out. Some stumbled over their words so I didn’t understand. The ones I do know for sure I politely decline. I don’t wanna date, especially not someone from work. Most of them take it nicely, a small few are rude. Like Jose.

"Why not," Jose glares," it will be fun."

"I'm just not in the market for a boyfriend right now," I try to inch around him so I can head to the cafeteria. He slams his palm into the wall beside me.

"Not in the market? Silas told me otherwise," he leans in with a smirk.

"Silas told you," I stare confused. Pushing myself into the wall to get away.

"Yea, he said you were interested. Mentioned you would be an easy thing too," he tries to lean in closer. I dart underneath his arm, not bothering with him anymore. "Hey, we aren't done," he calls down the hall. I stop and glare at him over my shoulder.

"You ever talk to me again, I'm calling HR," I sneer. He rolls his eyes but walks off.

That dick! Not Jose, but Silas. What he doing telling everyone I'm interested? Telling people I'm an easy lay or something.

I change my course from the lunchroom to Silas' office. I stomp up the step, clenching my tablet in a tight grip. I slam open the door and march inside. I find him sitting in his chair, bent over his desk writing. When the door bangs against the wall he looks up. He starts with a smile but drops it when he sees my glare.

I slam my hands on his desk," Don’t you ever butt in my love life again. If I find out you are telling people that I'm 'easy' again I will cut your damn balls off. Do you understand me?" he sits back in his chair a little worried. Perhaps a little scared. My words take a second to sink in for him. Once they do he sits up.

"I never told anyone you were 'easy'. I said you they should try asking you out. Who said you were easy," he furrows his brow.

I slam my hands on the desk again," You shouldn’t be telling anyone anything about my interest. I never asked for your help, I never wanted your help. I've been asked out all day and you know damn well I don’t want that kind of attention."

He stands," What do you mean you don’t want that attention? You need that kind of attention. It isn't healthy to sit alone all day every day in your apartment. I want you to be happy, and I think this will do that. Excuse me for trying to be a good friend." I glare up at him, he glares back.

"If this is your idea of being a good friend then I rather you weren't," I sneer.

"What are you saying," he crosses his arms.

"I don’t want to be your friend. Friends I want around are ones who respect my privacy, not someone who makes people treat me like a thanksgiving meal. If I don’t want a relationship that is my fucking choice, Silas. Don’t talk to me or talk to anyone else about me. We are done," I push away from his desk. Moving it a little in the process. Then before he can say a word I stomp out his office. Running the conversation through my head till I'm gritting my teeth.

Who does he think he is telling people to proposition me. Does everyone in the office know I'm a virgin now? Everyone is going to look at me like a challenge. See who can get into my pants first. Fucking pigs. Silas the piece of shit.

The entire day is ruined until I get home. I put on some PJs and watch my favorite show. I don’t need Silas, the asshole. If I wanted help I would have asked him.

The rest of the week I avoid Silas. Which is harder than I thought. He seems to be everywhere I go. I head to the copying room, he is in there. I walk down for lunch, he is there. I go to a coworkers desk and he is talking with them. I can't tell if he is doing it on purpose or it’s a coincidence. Hardly matters, ill just sit in my office like a hermit.

Friday, just before quitting time I get a visitor. There is a knock on my door. I look up and my polite smile drops.

I look back down at my work," get out."

"I was going to ask if you are done throwing your tantrum but I see you aren't," Silas says walking in the room. I try my hardest not to look up. If I have to act like a child for him to leave then I will. I hear a chair squeak against the tile floor. I accidentally glanced up at him. He is sitting with his arms folded over his broad chest. He is staring straight at me, waiting for me to answer. I won't.

"Come on, do you want me to apologize? I don’t know what I did wrong but ill say sorry anyway. I'll be the bigger person here, I'm sorry Chloe. Is that better," he asks. I barely notice my grip tightening on the pen till my paper rips. The pen digging too hard into the page.

"You honestly don’t know what you did wrong," I grit my teeth," you selfish dick head." I glare up at him. He doesn’t seem phased. Knowing him he probably never been in a fight with a woman. Use to them falling at his feet because of his sexual prowess. Ain't going to work here.

"I tried to do something nice for you and you ignore me like a child. So excuse me for being a little confused," he snaps.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? You have everyone in the office looking at me like I'm some kind of challenge. I get asked every day by people to go out with them to bars. Knowing they are only hoping to get in my pants. Trying to get me wasted enough to sleep with them so they can come here and brag they got me first. I never asked for your help. If I wanted to get laid I would have done it by now," I cross my arms. Glaring over at him, daring him to downplay my feelings on this.

"If you could have gotten laid then why haven't you done it. I've been trying to wrap my brain around this all week. You are an attractive young woman and you have never gone out to get someone. I know you are interested in it, you listen to my stories with such open wonder. I thought for the longest time you have, you hold your own in a conversation about it so well. Why are you a virgin," he asks. I don’t need to answer him. I don’t have to justify my choices. Yet, I feel like I do.

"Because I never found the one. I don’t trust anyone enough to not hurt me after. Most of the guys I might have had sex with I knew they would either leave before I woke the next day or brag about it to friends. I was always the pretty one, nothing more. Hell I know I got my job because I was attractive. I don’t want a one night stand or a simple night of pleasure. I want a relationship, I want to trust them not to leave me once they had their fill. I'm not just a body to be used, I'm a person," I finally answer. It's true, I haven't trusted anyone. Everyone makes sex into a simple thing. Just shared pleasure that doesn’t have to mean anything. But to me it does, I want the connection. To please someone while they want to please me.

He sits there for a second. Eyeing me as he thinks.

"What makes you think that those people aren't in it for a serious thing? Who has made you believe that people are just there to use you," he asks calmer.

"Because you talk about doing that every day," I scowl," answer me honestly. Have you ever stayed the night at one of your partner's home? Made them breakfast the next morning as thanks for the night before." he tries to glare at me but I know the truth. I may not trust people to fuck me but he doesn’t trust people to want him after. I've known Silas for almost a year and this is a fact I gathered early on. No one wants a relationship with an Incubus. They are known for being unfaithful so why risk it?

"No," he drops his head, " I'm sorry Chloe." this is more sincere. I wasn’t ready for that. I know our relationship isn't much. We are friends because of the circumstances. If we didn’t work together then we would have never even spoken to each other. I never expected him to actually apologize.

"thank you," I mumble. He lifts his head and looks at me through his lashes.

"Are we still friends," he asks. It comes out soft, to my surprise. I think about it. I don’t think I can trust him after this. The little faith I had in him was gone once he told everyone I needed to be fucked.

"No," I answer. I find I can't look him in the eye when I said it. I do notice his shoulders dropping.

Without another word he stands, nods, then leaves. After that, I don’t see him as much.

The weekend comes and goes. I get to see my cousins and forget about the situation for a while. The week goes smoothly. I don’t see Silas at all that week. Come to hear it, most people haven't seen him. He comes into work and doesn’t socialize like he used to. I want to feel responsible for that but I know it isn't me. We weren't that close. He is a social butterfly, talks to everyone. I was just the only one who didn’t actively flirt with him. I listened to what he had to say, I was polite.

After about two weeks I forget about him. I don’t worry about his whereabouts or comings and goings. Some coworkers still try to get me to date them but more are asking me about Silas. I don’t care.

Its Saturday and I'm sitting on my couch. I flip through Netflix for anything new to watch. Shoving handfuls of chips into my mouth. The oil getting on the remote as well as my pants.

There is a knock at the door. I jump at the harsh noise of a fist against wood. It echoes through my apartment. I stare at the entrance, waiting for the sound of footsteps down the brick stairs. Instead, I get another knock and a voice.

"Chloe, I need to talk to you," the voice is muffled. It’s a man for sure, but unless I get up and check I don’t know who it is. I place my bowl on the table then walk over to the door. Knowing the dangers of opening up to anyone I grab the bat near my fridge. I step over and peak through the eyehole. I see a fisheye view of Silas. His hair is sticking to his forehead and his clothes look wet.

"Chloe, please," he drops his head to the door. Part of me wants to open it just so he can trip forward. But another part wants him to leave now.

"Go away," I yell. Still looking through the hole I see his head pop up. He looks directly at the peephole now.

"Chloe, please. Just five minutes, that’s all I ask," he holds out his hands. I can see he is dripping wet.

"Why should I," I yell back.

"Because I want to apologize. I've had time to think and I really need to talk with you," he is practically begging. I have never heard him beg. Even in his stories, he is never the one to be a sub, to beg for anything. He is probably used to people throwing themselves at his feet just to get a taste of him.

I try to fight my goodwill. I shouldn’t let him in. but it's raining out and he is standing here soaking wet just to talk to me. Yet I don’t owe him anything, just let him get sick. Still, I'm curious.

With a sigh, I grabbed the doorknob. Pulling it open with a reluctant grimace. This better not be a mistake.

I look up at a soaked Silas. His white button-up is taunt to his torso. I can see his undershirt easily now. His black slacks are dripping over his shoes and onto the doormat. He looks tired. Black rings under his eyes along with his cheeks being hollow. He doesn’t look healthy.

"You look like shit," I deadpan. I didn’t want to be the first one to talk but I couldn’t resist the jab.

He chuckles," yea, I've noticed. Can I come in?" I look him over again. He isn't coming in here dripping all over the place.

"You are soaked, ill grab a towel," I turn and walk to the linen closet. I grab a towel and walk back over. I nearly trip when I see him taking off his shirt. Kicking his shoes off beside the mat. He balls up his shirt then reaches back and grabs the undershirt. I get to see his flat stomach, then his toned pecs. Silas isn't buff by any standards. He has definition but not great mass. He doesn’t have abs but his stomach is flat and toned. His chest is broad but it isn't strong. Only his arms hold any girth. His biceps and shoulders being the only things with muscle.

He looks up at me," Sorry. Thought it would be easier if I had less to dry." I come back to myself.

"It's alright, here," I walk over and hand him the towel. Not looking at him anymore. I turn away from him and go to my couch. Sitting on the farthest end. I watch as he dries himself before stepping in. he wraps the towel around his waist then removes his pants from underneath. I look away as he does.

"You can look, I'm not showing anything," he laughs. I still don’t look. It's hard to be mad at someone when they are half-naked in your living room. Cant give a proper glare if I'm blushing. He is the first man I've seen to this level of disrobe.

"What do you want," I decide to get to the point. I don’t want him here longer than he has to be. After a second of him not answering I look over at him. He is staring down at the ground, his hair blocking his eyes.

"I miss you," he starts. I look at him confused and skeptical. I don’t trust him. He looks over when I don’t answer, " I wanted to respect your choice of not wanting to see me but…" he sighs.

He takes a moment to collect himself," I've been a mess without you. I couldn’t understand why either. I know I liked talking with you but this feeling is a lot. I think about you constantly, I catch myself walking to your office often. It hasn’t been just my thoughts you are ruining too." he looks up at me, in the light, his face looks terrible. The low light makes his face look almost skeletal. I can see the shadow of his ribs under his pecs. Has he not been eating? Then it clicks, he hasn’t been feeding.

"What did you do," I find myself asking," are you feeding?"

He shakes his head," I haven't since we stopped talking. I can't bring myself to go out. For the first week, I was confused. I forced myself out the second week but I did something I haven't done ever. I said no to someone. I didn’t want to fuck them, the idea of it was sickening at the time. I had to ask my brother what was happening. Maybe I was sick and needed some help. My brother told me differently." I watch him, worried about him but not wanting to show it. I've known the guy for a year, we got a little close. The time I've known him I never heard him having this issue. He has never not fed. He is a man whore to the max! this is so out of character.

"What did he tell you," I ask. He opens his mouth to answer but shuts it. He tries again but nothing comes out. He drops his head to his shoulder, wincing. Running his fingers through his wet hair and adjusting his towel too much.

"Why is it so hard to tell you," he groans," I just want you to know that I'm honestly sorry about telling everyone. At the time I thought I was helping but it isn't till later that I realized you never wanted my help. Also that it isn't the help I wanted to give you. I want you to be happy, truly I do. In my dumb cum brain way of thinking I thought that my way of helping would be what makes you happy. I'm sorry. I still want to help but now it's more complicated. If not selfish now."

I sit up," what do you mean?" I'm worried. If his way of helping before was to make me a living target for people at work, I hate to see what it is now.

"I have to tell you something, and I need you to work with me on this. I don’t know if I can say it if I'm being honest," he runs his fingers through his hair again," you know I care about you. We have been friends for a while. I cherish our conversation, you were the only one who listened. Not even the sex stuff but everything. Like when I told you about my insecurities, I knew I could trust you with them. I know you are someone I can trust, and I want you to trust me." he walks over to the couch. Flopping on the other end. He leans over and looks me in the eyes. The action sends a tingle down my spine. His eyes are searching, I can feel him searching.

"What are you doing," I lean hard against the arm of the couch. He scoots a little closer. Still looking at me, in me. It feels invasive. After a second he smiles.

"You know one of my powers is emotions. On the account I feed off them it should seem self-explanatory. Either way, I can see a person's feelings. Strong ones radiate from someone like a beacon, do you know what I see when I look at you," he cocks a brow. I shake my head," I see loneliness. When we first met it was like being slapped. You were pouring with it. So I was drawn to you, wanting to fix that in some way. My intention was pure, I wanted to see you smile. Make your day less alone. When you stormed into my office I could feel the rage boiling off you. It was suffocating. But now, now I can see fear, worry, and affection. Fear for what I'm saying, worry for me, and affection for me. So, Chloe, I will tell you what I came here for." he scoots close enough for our legs to touch. He grabs my hands away from my chest, resting them in my lap. Then he just stares at me, a smile gracing his lips.

"What," I mumble, "What did you come to say?"

"That I'm in love with you," he finally answers. His words are like a jolt down my spine. It's of both joy and rage. I rip my hands from his hold. He frowns.

"Fuck you," I hop over the arm of the couch. Putting as much distance between us as I can. He watches me as I pace the room. He looks sad but I couldn’t give a damn at the moment.

"You don’t get to fucking say that," I snap at him," you don’t get to be an asshole then decide you did it out of affection. That isn't how this works, Silas." he jumps from the couch. Walking over to me but I hold my arm out to stop him.

"Please, Chloe," he tries to talk.

"No, don’t 'please Chloe' me. This isn't fair, this isn't ok! You don’t get to ruin my work-life then march in here two weeks later saying you love me. You lying piece of shit," I point at him. As he hears my last words he sneers. Grabbing my hand he pulls me close. I fight in his hold, not giving him the satisfaction.

"Chloe," he shouts, "Stop." he wraps his arms around me, pinning my arms to my sides. We glare at each other, "I may have been less than savory but I will never lie about my feelings to you. You can kick me, punch me, spit on me, but know that I tell the truth. I care about you, I want you, I love you. Do you understand me?"

"I don’t believe you," I squint up at him. I fight in his hold again, he lets me go with a sigh. I back up far enough away that I feel he cant grab me. He still looks dejected. His fist clenching at his sides for a second before he wipes them on the towel.

"Chloe," he looks up between his lashes, " after I last saw you I was sad. I missed our conversations. I talk to everyone at work but you are the one I looked forward to seeing. I always knew I had feelings for you. I never pushed anything cause I didn’t want to lose you because of who I am. See, no one wants to be friends with an incubus, think we are a bunch of silver-tongued sluts. My last close friend stopped talking to me when he got a girlfriend. He thought I would steal his girl away, how ridiculous.

"But after that day I starved. I couldn’t bring myself to feed off anyone. The idea of touching someone was disgusting. I thought I was sick. Not once did I think it could be any other reason. So I called my brother after the first week. I was- I am- in pain. I'm starving like you wouldn’t understand. When I called him and told him he asked if I was in love with anyone. I laughed at him, of course not. Then he asked again, then before I could actually think on it your name popped up. Suddenly it all made sense. My brother said that I'm bonded to you now. I didn’t know what that meant, sounded a little cliché. It seems that I have made a connection with you, I cannot bring myself to feed on anyone else. I won't even if I had a choice because all I want is you. All I need is you. All I can think about is you." I try to glare at him. I really try to be mad but I look at his body. He looks so weak, so malnourished that it hurts me.

"bonded," I ask," what does that mean for me?" I still don’t trust his words. I know how convincing he can be. Yet I know there is truth there. He would never starve himself for anyone.

He takes a step closer but stops when I take one back," nothing. Not unless we… it means nothing to you."

"Not unless we what," I ask. He looks at me, glancing between my eyes as he thinks. He doesn’t answer me, instead, he turns to the couch and sits. His leg spread and his hands on his face. He sighs. I take a step closer," Silas." he sighs again. Dropping his hands to his lap he looks me over.

"Can you do that again," he mumbles.

"Do what," I ask wearily. He runs his hands over his thighs.

"Can you say my name, its intoxicating to hear my name come from your lips," he grips the towel.

I fold my arms," just answer the question." he rolls his eyes before dropping his head back to the couch.

"It doesn’t matter, just give me a second and ill leave," he grumbles.

"No, I let you inside so you can answer my question," I snap. He lifts his head a bit to look at me. Giving me a once over before dropping against the couch again.

"I will answer if you answer one question of mine," he offers.

"No, I don’t owe you anything," I sneer.

"Humor me," he tilts his head," Please."

I glare at him for a second but give in," fine."

Silas watches me for a moment," Do you like me? Before all this. Before I fucked up royally. Did you even for a second think of me as an option?"

I ponder lying for a second. Of course, I've thought of him. He is literally sex personified. Even besides that he was funny, I liked talking with him. I knew there wouldn’t be a chance, he was too interested in partying and sleeping around. It wasn’t my taste. I rather not date a man whore. But he made a good friend, I got along with him well enough.

"For a second. But I had no interest in dating someone who has a body count in the triple digits," I jab. He doesn’t acknowledge that part. He looks hopeful for a moment.

"Was it because I was an incubus or because I was me," he sits up.

"Nope, I answered your one question, now answer mine," I chide.

He ignores me," Did you like me or what I could do? When you had that thought did you think because of the pleasure I could give you or because you enjoyed me?"

I balance on my other foot, looking away from him," Not unless what, Silas?"

He stands," Chloe, did you like me. Answer the question." I try to speak but he talks over me," Chloe, how did you want me?" I try again but he interrupts," Chloe!"

"Fine, I liked you! You were funny and silly. You liked stupid memes and hate tomatoes in your salad even though you always buy them with tomatoes. You stop talking anytime you saw a cute dog, it was adorable, and you actually listen to teen pop music. I couldn’t have cared less that you are an incubus, that didn’t matter. I liked you and all your silly quirks," I snap. He stares at me shocked. I turn away, I cant look at him.

"Chloe," he whispers. He sounds closer. I still don’t look. "Chloe," he mumbles near my ear. I feel his hand grab my arm. Unfolding them and bringing them around his waist. I let him, not having the fight anymore. I hold him lazily while he wraps his arms around my back. Pressing my head to his chest.

"You hurt me," I mumble against him," I trusted you not to tell everyone. It wasn’t really a secret but I didn’t want everyone only talking to me because of that."

He pets my back," I know. I'm sorry. I will do anything to make it up to you. It was a terrible thing to do and I will do whatever I can for you to trust me again. All I ask is you give me a chance." I can't answer but I nod against him. I feel his chest deflate as he sighs in relief. Holding me just a little tighter, kissing my hair.

We stand there in silence for a moment. I hear his heartbeat slowly against my ear. It sounds weak. I can feel his spine along my fingers. He really is starving.

"Silas," he sighs again," you need to eat." he nods against my head.

"I can't," he whimpers," the thought of eating from anyone but you make me sick." I lean back in his hold, looking at his gaunt face.

"Is there another way for you to feed," I ask," I know you can get like snacks from other emotions."

He presses my head back against his chest," Don’t worry about me, alright. Just let me hold you and that will be enough." I don’t push it.

"Then, can you tell me about being bonded?"

He stops breathing, "Do I have to?"

"Yes," I answer. He huffs.

"If we ever make love then I cannot feed from anyone else. You wouldn’t grow weak from me, and you could read me like I read others. It’s a very deep thing, it cant be broken after that," he finally explains. I gasp into his chest.

"Read you," I ask. I run my fingers over his spine. I can feel the hairs rise and his body shiver.

"Right now you are sad, and emotionally drained. I can read that from you," he explains," you would be able to do that with me." I nod. There isn't much I can say to that. He is right, I'm so drained. I want to be mad at him but seeing him as this hurts. Seeing him so weak and starving. I don’t want to believe he cant feed from others. That the idea of being with anyone else makes him sick but the evidence is there. I'm tired of thinking, I know this feels right.

I lean back and look up at him. He stares right back. I reach up and grab his jaw with one hand. Pulling him down to me. He doesn’t resist, probably too scared to. I stop him when our noses touch. His eyes are beginning to close and his lips are slightly parted.

"You will never do what you did again, do you understand me," he nods," if you hurt me even a little we are done. I never want to see you again or hear from you. Is that clear?" he nods again. I guess that finishes it. I lean in and take his lips for mine. When we meet it feels like fire. Like my body slowly began to engulf in flames. Starting at my lips then working over my body. Silas groans into my mouth, pulling me closer. My legs sit between his, his knee hitting my thigh. His crotch sits flush against my stomach. I can feel his cock from under the towel. I wouldn’t say he is hard but he is getting there.

I reach up and cup both sides of his face. Pulling him just a bit closer as he sucks on my bottom lip. Nibbling and licking as his hands pet along my back. He is a great kisser, I find myself thinking. I meet his tongue with my own, I feel his chest rumble against mine. I lure his tongue into my mouth where I suck on it. Feeling a familiar tingle in my stomach as I do.

Without warning, he pulls from me. Spit hanging between us that he catches with his tongue. He stands straighter, still petting my back. His eyes are black like I've never seen before. His mouth is parted showing off his teeth, his fangs.

"Chloe, you are more potent than anyone I have ever tasted," he growls as he drops his head to my neck," But I cannot bring myself to take from you anymore right now. I still need to earn your trust." he kisses my neck with a few lazy pecks before licking me. He growls, his teeth pressing against my throat. I don’t notice my heavy breathing, but I do notice his.

"Silas," I sigh. I'm not sure what I was going to say but knew I should talk. He groans, bucking his hips against me after he hears his name.

"Do it again," he licks my neck.

"Silas," I peck his cheek. He bites my neck, it feels like electricity coming from his teeth.

"You are too divine," he whispers against my skin. He quickly leans back, tilting his head to his shoulders. He looks a little dazed, his cheeks are less taunt but he still has bags under his eyes. Licking his lips he gropes my hips. "I'm sorry love, I seem to be a bit drunk off you already," he laughs," I may need to sit down." he lets go of me and nearly falls as he turns to the couch. I grab his arm and help him to the seat.

He falls against the loveseat, making it hit against the wall. His head drops against the cushion, his hands spread wide on the sofa. Silas lazily drops his head to the side, looking up at me. He pats the seat next to him.

"We aren't doing anything else but please sit. I need to touch you," he slurs. I can't help but chuckle at his drunk state. I take the seat beside him. He quickly grabs me and pulls me close. Our sides flush, he rests his hand on my thigh.

"Little drunk? Does this happen often," I ask with a smirk.

He eyes me with a weak grin," not at all. Not since I was young. I have built a tolerance but yours is very strong. Like the hardest of liquors but I rather compare you to a glass of fine wine." I find myself rolling my eyes at him. The flirt.

We sit in silence for a while. Just enjoying each other's company for the time being. I get a moment to think about him, about what he said. It's strange to figure that he of all people could be in love. Let alone in love with me. I try to doubt it but I can't bring myself to. He seemed so distraught when I called him a liar. Like I hit him or something. It's hard to think he could ever be interested in me, actually enjoy our conversations. He talked with everyone at work, the social butterfly compared to me. He was just a friendly guy, it kind of came with the territory.

"I should be getting out of your hair now," he mumbles. I look up and see he is falling asleep. His head tilted back and eyes closed. He doesn’t make an attempt to move just yet.

"Sleep on the couch, you can leave in the morning," I sit up. I stretch my arms above me, groaning with the exertion. I jump when his fingers glide along my side. He chuckles. I glance over and his eyes are just barely open, a soft grin on his face. He drops the grin and pets along my hip.

"I can't believe I never saw it before this," he stares," it was always there."

"What was always there," I ask as I sit back on the sofa. He adjusts his hand so it's wrapped around my middle. He leans on his side so we are face to face.

"You are so beautiful. Funny, charming, smart, kind, and best of all, you like me," he grins. I find myself grinning along with him." but it has always been there. I've liked you for a while but I knew you wouldn’t go out with someone like me. Hell, I couldn’t promise you that id actually stick around too long. But recently, even before my dumb move, I think I've always loved you. It's easy to see it now. Looking at you makes my heart feel at home. I can say for certain that I will never leave you. Unless you tell me, ill be right by your side." I look at his eyes for lies. Any indicator that he wasn’t being honest. I found nothing, just genuine care. This is what I've wanted for a while. Just open tenderness with another person. I think I can forgive him for being an idiot.

"kiss me," I look down at his lips.

He leans back a little," don’t be asking for things you don’t understand now. I'm just coming down from being drunk if we kiss I can't stop this time."

"Good, I don’t want you to," I smile up at him.

He sits up," no, I got to take you out on a date. Actually, try to woo you. I owe you that much, if not more." I crawl over and straddle his lap. He instinctually reaches up to hold me but thinks better of it at the last second. His hand hovering over my thighs. I run my hand up to his bare chest, feeling his warmth. I look up at his conflicted face. He looks down at me but then looks away.

"Take you out to a nice restaurant, shower you with compliments and bring you flowers. Then-oh," he groans as I kiss his chest. I'm not really sure what I'm doing, having never gotten this far before. But touching him feels right. I brush my arms over his sides, noticing his ribs aren't as prominent. I kiss down his sternum then over to his nipple. I lick over it, smiling when he gasps. Before I could continue he grabs my hair and pulls me back. His eyes are black again and he looks dazed.

"Dinner, Movie, Flowers, gifts. I will do those things you understand," he growls. I nod," Good." in a second his lips are on mine. His grip on my hair is used to tilt my head. Diving his tongue into my mouth quickly. Licking along my teeth and tongue. I feel him under his towel, poking between my legs. I want to grind on him but I think better of it.

Just as quick as he kissed me he pulls away. Hissing with his eyes clenched.

"Chloe, I'm not that strong. I've never had to use control before. I'm certain I will not be having sex with you tonight, I cant. Even if you have forgiven me I still owe you something better for your first time," he opens his black eyes," I will treat you to a lovely night out. Then I'm going to take you to my place where I will worship you. But till then I beg you to have pity on my control." I'm a bit shocked at what he said. He will take me to his place? From all the stories he has told I've never once heard him taking someone back to his place. It's almost a rule for him to not take anyone to his home.

"To your place," I asked still shocked.

He grins," of course. Be hard to leave the next morning if I'm at my house," he tries to joke.

"You have never taken someone to your house," I clarify.

"Well you aren't just anyone, are you," he cocks a brow," you are way more important than anyone before." I reach forward and kiss him again. He startles for a second before getting into it. I pull back after a short moment.

"Dinner next weekend," I ask.

"I'll pick you up around seven," he grins.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Scarping the bottom of the barrel for past stories because I am in a rut right now in writing. I have this cute orc story but fuck, I cant write! so here is a work in progress I edited so I don’t have to write an actual ending.

Also this character is totally me, like I was not subtle at all. I reread this like a month after I wrote it and I'm like ‘oh this is me, that's rude’.

also, also. If you aren’t interested in sex, there is nothing wrong with you. sometimes you don’t find it appealing and that’s ok, don't let anyone make you feel bad for that.

Check out my Archive| Masterlist| Main Blog

#incubus #monster lover #monster boyfriend #Enigma-IM #fluff #comfort #exophilia #starving #Silas

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obxwritings · 4 years

Text

☆ drinking alone ☆

requested by @13reasonswhystan : Hey can you please do a Topper from Outer Banks imagine where y/n is a pouge and she is the badass of the group and she doesn’t really like to show her emotions she had a crush on jj but sees the way he looks at kiea so one night she is at the beach alone drinking and topper happens to be there too and they talk about their heartbreak they end up sleeping together and slowly start liking each other. (topper x reader)

word count: 1,986 (damn okay)

warnings: underage drinking, swearing, mentions of heartbreak/insecurities about relationships, very slight alluding to sex at the very end

note: sorry this is so long lmao but I really like how this turned out! I hope you enjoy! let me know how it is :) thank you for requesting by the way! sorry it took so long! also, this is just my take on topper. I watched the show a while ago so if this is very uncharacteristic from his character, lmao it’s called fanfiction for a reason, but I did try to stick to what I remembered from his character from the show.

masterlist of other works :)

This was a terrible idea. You know that, hell, anybody would tell you that you were being immature about the situation, but you could care less. You were having a shitty day and the only thing you wanted to do was get drunk to forget about it. However, your house was not the place for your pity party. The beach, on the other hand, was. It was late enough that no one would be there, and you could have it all to yourself. The walk to the beach wasn’t too far and after finding the perfect spot on the beach and plopping down on the sand, you decided to break out the beer you had stashed in your backpack.

Taking in the sounds of the waves crashing on the shore while sipping your drink, you couldn’t help but recall what led you here in the first place.

. . .

Earlier that day, the pogues were all out on the boat and enjoying the summer sun before they had to return to school soon. Nothing was special about it. John B and Sarah were giving each other heart eyes while everyone else was mocking them. It started with Pope making a quiet remark that didn’t go unnoticed by you, JJ, and Kie. From then till the end of the boat ride the four of you kept laughing at everyone’s jokes, only making John B and Sarah more confused. That’s not what set you off, though.

What made you so frustrated that all you wanted to do was scream or cry or drink was the fact that all day you had been trying to get JJ’s attention, and he was giving you absolutely nothing. You cracked jokes in attempts to make him laugh, wore a swimsuit that made you feel confident, and shared your last joint with him and all of it was still nothing compared to the looks and smiles he gave Kie any time she did, well, anything. You couldn’t blame him though; Kie was an amazing person through and through. You just wished someone would look at you like that one day.

. . .

Trying to forget the memory, you took another swig of the cheap beer you brought. Realizing you were almost done with it, you grabbed your bag and started to pull out another one when you heard some movement. With some panic setting in, you clutched your unopened beer can and got ready to throw it just in case anything came out and attacked you.

“Woah it’s just me.” said the voice. Recognizing the voice, you lowered the beer can and shook your head.

“What do you want, Topper?” you didn’t mean to sound so stuck up, but you couldn’t help it. Old habits die hard.

“Just came out here to clear my head. What about you? Were you waiting to throw that beer can at someone specific or…?” Topper joked while sitting down next to you.

Contemplating whether or not to tell him the truth, you let out a tired sigh. You honestly are still a little wary of kooks, but after hearing what Topper did for John B (and also just needing someone to finally vent to) you decided to throw caution to the wind and just spill all your thoughts (the alcohol definitely was encouraging you too).

“Honestly, I had a crap-tastic day and just wanted to drink the day away, so you can either join me or just leave.” It was harsh, but you couldn’t care less. You were tired of holding everything in; you were bound to break at some point.

Topper looked at you and gave you a soft smirk, “well, better hand me a drink then. Seems like you have a lot to say.”

You were shocked but gave him a beer nonetheless. He was going to need it if he was going to listen to you rant.

“So tell me y/n, what’s got you so worked up? I’ve never seen you like this. I mean, not that I normally hang out with you, you know, because we aren’t really friends. You just always seem so confident and tough. It’s kind of weird to see you like this, showing emotions and all.”

“Gee, thanks, Topper.” You rolled your eyes. He did have a point though; you were always making witty comebacks or trying to one-up everyone in dares. You hated showing your true emotions because you didn’t want anyone to think you were weak. Right now, however, you knew that instead of the confident person everyone saw, Topper was seeing the opposite. It was a look he knew all too well himself.

You were on the brink of breaking down, yet you were forcing yourself not to. Your eyes were glossy, and you were seconds away from letting a tear slip. Your normal, collected self was slowly breaking down, and you didn’t know what to do.

So you decided to just let it all out.

“I just wish I was enough sometimes. It’s hard to see the person you care about clearly not feel the same way. And like, I want him to be happy, so if he’s happy with her then I should be okay with that, right? I guess, I don’t know, I just wish he was happy with me.” you couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down your face at this point, so you just let it happen. Not wanting to look at Topper, you began to pick at the random frays on your shorts while waiting for a snarky response from the kook himself.

You never got one.

Instead, Topper took a sip of his beer and calmly said “It’s the fucking worst feeling ever. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes shot up and gave Topper and look of pure shock. You studied his face, looking for any signs of teasing and waiting for him to break and just laugh at you. But he didn’t. His face had nothing but a slight frown and a distant look in his eye. You didn’t know why he wasn’t taking the opportunity to make fun of you, but you were secretly thankful for it. Someone finally understood what you were going through.

Deciding to just go along with whatever was happening right now, you wiped your tears and scoffed quietly, “tell me about it.”

“I kind of just did, no?”

“Oh my god,” you shoved him lightly while letting out a little laugh, “there’s the snarky Topper I know and hate.”

“Oh shut up. At least I got you to smile. I don’t know how much of ‘sappy y/n’ I could handle.” Topper joked.

“Whatever, Topper.” You rolled your eyes. You looked back at Topper, and while he looked content while starring out to the ocean, you could tell there was more to be said.

“You can talk about it if you want. Yo don’t have to if you don’t want to. Talk about the dilemma you’re also having. I know I ju-”

“Thanks,” Topper cut you off mid ramble, but you didn’t mind. From the look on his face, you knew he just wanted someone to talk to and listen to his issues as much as you did.

“Sarah and I broke up a while ago, as you and just about everyone in this damn town knows, but it really hurt. I loved her, at least I think I did, but after hearing about how happy John B made her, I knew I couldn’t do much about it. I lost her, if I even had her to begin with, and it broke my heart. It broke me. But like you said, I wanted her to be happy and she’s happy with him, so I should be happy right?” Topper looked at you with a sad gaze and, despite your past with everything that had happened this past summer, you couldn’t help but pull him into a hug. You knew what he was feeling all too well.

“It fucking sucks, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah it fucking does.” Topper chuckled slightly as he pulled away from you. He couldn’t help but smile. He finally told someone how he felt, and it felt amazing to not be the only one going through this.

“Look at us,” you said after starting your second can of beer, “who would’ve thought that we of all people would be here and crying about our feelings.”

“I mean, you’re the only one who’s cried so…” Topper joked, earning him the middle finger from you, “but it feels nice to finally let it out.”

Not really knowing what to say, you just nodded in agreement and kept sipping your drink. It didn’t take too long for the alcohol in both you and Topper to kick in. Soon enough, the two of you were filling the awkward silence with jokes, laughs, and stories that you thought would only stay between your respective friend groups.

. . .

However, the drinks might have been a little too strong because soon enough you’re flirting shamelessly with Topper. You don’t think he minded though because he was doing the exact same thing.

It didn’t help that the small amount of light coming from the rising sun was making Topper glow, accentuating his facial features and making his eyes sparkle. You had a few thoughts running through your head such as what time is it? Have we really been out here for that long? What would happen if I kissed him right now?

You didn’t have too much time to think about any of them because soon enough Topper stopped his joke mid-sentence and said, “What’s on your mind, beautiful?”

So he clearly noticed you weren’t paying attention. But at that moment you didn’t really care. With alcohol still coursing through you, along with the compliment from Topper, you couldn’t help yourself. You threw your arms around Topper’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Without hesitating, he kissed you back. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss after that. However, Topper didn’t seem too comfortable with your current position beside him, so he carefully lifted and placed you on his lap.

“Well that was a nice surprise.” Topper smiled.

Blushing and slightly embarrassed by your sudden outburst of affection, you just hid your face in the crook of his shoulder. “Stoppp.” you mumbled into his shoulder, “I don’t know what happened okay? You just looked so hot and then you complimented me, and I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to kiss you.”

“Hey, I wasn’t complaining. In fact,” Topper lifted your head to allow you to look up at him, giving you a soft smile, “I wouldn’t mind you doing that more often.”

Looking out at the rest of the beach, you saw people getting ready for an early morning surf. “Well, if you want to go somewhere else my parents are out of town for the rest of the weekend. We could always go to my house. It’s not too far from here.”

Topper nodded and helped you stand up, but you couldn’t really walk due to how much you had drunk. Seeing this, Topper offered to give you a piggyback ride. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh. The two of you probably looked crazy to anyone just passing by. But you didn’t care; you were happy and that’s all that mattered.

While leaving the beach, Topper could help but smile and ask “so, you really think I’m hot?”

. . .

When you woke up in your bed later that day, you saw an arm securely wrapped around your waist. You looked over to see Topper still sleeping, letting out small snores every now and then, and couldn't help but smile as snippets from last night replayed in your head. You were so glad that you finally let your walls down. You didn't know what would happen between the two of you, but you did know two things: you didn't regret a thing from the previous night and you secretly hoped Topper felt the same way.

note: I hope you enjoyed (if you made it this far lmao)! as always, my requests are open! I hope you are staying safe and healthy! also, you can always message me :) i love talking to people!

#topper imagine #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #outer banks netflix #topper thornton #topper thronton imagine #topper fanfiction

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barrysjumpsuit · 4 years

Text

blindsided - barry’s sister x rafe cameron (ch. 3)

part one, part two, masterlist

word count: 3.5k

warnings: cannabis use, cocaine use, physical and verbal abuse, underage drinking, anxiety/depression, mentions of sex, the whole nine yards tbh

synposis: christy is a lifelong resident of the outer banks. after a series of hookups with rafe cameron, kook royalty, she’s smitten. what she doesn’t know is about what her boyfriend and brother are involved in behind her back

a/n: things are starting to get good... I’m super excited to write the rest of this! got some wild shit coming up. read this for SOFT RAFE. (side note, the necklace part is 100% a marie thing that i do and wear. i studied moon snail predation on clams so HMU if you wanna learn abt the ecology of the long island sound) (also in this house we stan naturdays)

----

Rafe had listened to Christy’s begging when she was saying she wanted to go to the Boneyard separately from Topper and Sarah. They slipped out before the others were done getting ready, but Christy still couldn’t bring herself to relax.

Her boyfriend was on edge too. They were silent as they drove south, Rafe eventually pulling off the road as they reached the trailer. Barry’s bike was gone from where it usually sat, and Christy was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Rafe followed her into the trailer. It was weird seeing Rafe Cameron, so well put together, in her shithole of a home. He knew better to comment on the state of things, and he looked visibly uncomfortable.

“Come on and help me,” Christy said, grabbing his hand and leading him down the hall to her bedroom. She unlocked the door and pulled him inside before closing it. “You know how to pack cigarette joints?”

“Can’t be too hard,” he said. Christy pulled out a mason jar of bud from her last harvest, along with two paper plates she kept for this exact purpose.

“We’ll do all of them,” she said. “I have a couple already made.”

Christy sat down on the bed next to Rafe. Their knees touched, the jar between them. She busied herself grinding the nugs, picking out the stems while Rafe started emptying the cigarettes of their contents.

“You know,” Rafe said suddenly, breaking the silence. “I’ve never smoked weed.”

“Really?” Christy asked. She was genuinely surprised. “Y’know, they say it’s the gateway drug, and…”

“Yeah, I went straight to the hard stuff,” Rafe said quietly. “It’s more of a… pogue thing.”

“What, so we’re stereotyping drugs now? I’ve seen you drink Natty Light. That’s as pogue as alcohol gets.”

“Naturdays!” Rafe protested.

“As if that makes it any different.” Christy grinned and tapped the grinder to the paper plate that sat in Rafe’s lap. “You want to try?”

Rafe nodded, and Christy looked up at him. There was something soft about him now, sitting in her bed in her shitty trailer. He hadn’t said anything about her living situation like he normally would. He hadn’t refused to help her.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Christy said quietly. He looked up at her, smiling softly. “We can wait until we’re there or until we leave. It’s up to you.”

“What will it feel like?” he asked.

“You really are clueless. We’ll wait until we’re away from the party, okay? This strain chills you the fuck out. It’s the only way I can sleep most nights.”

“Really?” he asked. “I didn’t know that. You always seem to fall asleep pretty easily.”

Christy bit her bottom lip before answering, focusing on twisting her grinder. “It’s because I feel comfortable with you.”

Rafe’s hand was suddenly cupping her cheek. He had moved the plate and his in-progress work to the bedspread and was leaning forward, perched on his knees. “Christy…” he murmured, his lips tantalizingly close to hers. “Really? You mean that?”

“Yes,” was all she could say. She could smell his breath, his deodorant, his cologne.

“You mean the world to me,” Rafe purred, moving his hand so it rested on the nape of her skull. “I love you so much. I’m glad we found each other.”

“Me too,” Christy whispered, and Rafe’s lips were on hers. They were gentle, patient, and tender. The kiss made her feel safe, reciprocating what she had just confessed to him.

Normally, Christy had a tough exterior. She was closed and blunt. People knew her for that, and even Barry commented on it. She didn’t know why Rafe of all people unlocked her as if he had a key, melting her heart and opening her up. It was true: she usually smoked herself to sleep every night. If she didn’t she would toss and turn into the early hours of the morning, and by then she would give up and go for a run or boat ride. Whenever she spent the night with Rafe, tucked into his bed and in his arms, her brain stopped worrying. It stopped running through endless scenarios, and she slept.

Rafe was the one to pull away. He smiled gently at her. Some of his hair fell over his eyes, so Christy reached up to tuck it back where it belonged. “I love you, Rafe Cameron.”

“I love you too, Christy,” he murmured back, kissing her once more on the forehead before sitting back down on the bed and picking up the paper plate again.

The two of them packed a cigarette carton full of joints in half an hour. Before they left, she pocketed her bowl, a couple baggies with nugs, and JJ’s five grams.

“This is a cute picture,” Rafe said as Christy stowed the last of the bud underneath her bed. They had used half of it prepping for the kegger. She looked up to the picture frame he was holding.

The photo was of her and Barry. They were younger – Christy was fifteen and Barry was nineteen – and on the boat. They were holding a fish, a huge striped bass they had hauled in on light tackle. A shadow was cast over a corner of the picture, and Christy’s heart twisted.

“You okay?” Rafe asked, and she just nodded. “What is it?”

“My mom took the picture,” Christy said quietly, taking the frame from him. “This was one of the last memories I have of her before she killed herself. Like a week later.”

“Oh baby…” Rafe put an arm around her, kissing the top of her head, and she leaned into him before putting the picture frame back on her dresser, face down.

“Let’s get out of here,” Christy suggested, and she gently pushed Rafe out of her bedroom. She turned and relocked the door before pocketing the keys and walking down the hall.

“Look who we have here! Rafe Cameron!”

Christy froze at Barry’s voice. Rafe’s hand tightened around hers, to a point where it was almost painful. Barry was sitting on the couch in front of the coffee table, and she could tell he just did a line.

“You just can’t stay away, can you, boy?” Barry said, standing and sauntering over to them. Christy tried to push Rafe behind her, but he refused to budge. “You fucking my sister again? We’re going to have words.”

“Barry, stop it!” Christy put her hands on Barry’s chest and shoved him, but he barely moved. “We’re together, okay? We were just stopping by to get some weed to sell.”

“You sure you don’t want anything else?” Barry asked, dangling a baggie of cocaine in front of Rafe’s face. Christy could tell he was bristling with anger and doing everything he could to restrain himself from swinging a fist. “Right here, Country Club. She’s got your name on it. I miss your business, you know.”

“Barry that’s enough!” Christy yelled, shoving herself between the two of them. “Rafe, let’s go.” She tugged on his hand, but Rafe remained rooted to the dirty carpet of the living room.

Rafe didn’t say anything. He and Barry stood, staring at each other, both of them seething with anger.

“I don’t want your fucking blow,” he finally said, turning, and storming from the trailer.

“You’ve got yourself a keeper there, Chris,” Barry said, swinging the baggie. “A real winner.”

“Fuck you, Barry!” Rafe yelled from the other side of the screen door.

“Go. Sell your weed and fuck your kook. Fuck your kook in his mansion, eat his food, sleep in his bed. And leave me here.”

Barry’s words followed her from the trailer. Rafe grabbed her and they hurried to the truck, getting in and peeling out of the yard.

Rafe was quiet, and Christy knew what that meant. He was pissed. Christy couldn’t help but press herself against the door, making herself small.

He didn’t pay much attention to her until a whimper made its way out of her mouth. She closed her eyes at the sound, knowing that Rafe looked over to her. “Oh, baby…” he said quietly. A hand touched her shoulder and she flinched.

Christy had seen Rafe angry before, plenty of times. He was the only person she had ever seen seriously take on her brother and make her fear for him.

“Just… leave me alone, Rafe,” she muttered.

“Christy, I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Rafe, just be quiet, please.” She opened her eyes to look at him. He looked shocked, his mouth slightly open. Christy looked away before closing her eyes again.

She felt him pull the truck over to the side of the road. “Christy,” he said again, softer this time. “Hey. Come here.”

Rafe pulled up the center console and slid across the seat so that he could wrap his arms around her. Christy curled into him, trying to hold back tears but failing as Rafe’s fingertips started making lazy circles on her back.

She wasn’t sure what she was crying about. Barry’s words rattled her. The whole exchange did. She knew Barry’s words were true. Christy had left him when things got tough. But she knew she couldn’t totally blame herself. He wasn’t doing much to help his situation.

Rafe encountering Barry was something she didn’t want to happen. But it did, and it was bad, but not as bad as she thought it was. Maybe it was best for them to get their anger out before she was deeper in the relationship with Rafe, and before it was more of a secret. It was bound to happen at some point.

“I’m good,” she said, making a slight peace with her thoughts. Christy unburied her head from Rafe’s chest, rubbing makeup all over his face as she wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’m okay.”

“You still want to go to that party?” Rafe asked, leaning his cheek on the top of her head.

“No,” she replied. “But I at least have to stop by. I’m selling someone some weed. It won’t take long.”

“Okay,” he said. Christy felt him press a tender kiss to the top of her head before sliding back over in the seat and pulling back onto the road.

The sun was about to set. As soon as Rafe parked near the Boneyard, Christy hopped out of his truck. She walked through the grasses and onto the beach, knowing exactly where JJ would be. He was manning the keg with John B, the hose in one hand, a beer in the other. Christy shoved through the crowd, consisting of mostly tourons, and slid up next to JJ.

“Follow me?” she asked, and he wordlessly handed the hose to John B.

“Hey, Christy, you okay?” JJ asked suddenly. Christy kept walking, but JJ continued. “You don’t look too good, dude.”

“Thanks for pointing that out,” she snapped at him. They were still too close to the crowd for her to feel comfortable doing a deal of anything larger than a couple blunts.

“I’m serious. Hey.” JJ reached out, grabbing her arm so that she faced him. “Is everything okay?”

She just sighed. “Want to smoke a joint with me?”

JJ was visibly confused, but he didn’t protest. They sat on a piece of driftwood, and Christy pulled out one of the cigarette joints she and Rafe had rolled earlier. She lit it, taking a few hits, before passing it to JJ. She waited a few minutes before speaking the first words.

“I don’t know what in the fuck I’m gonna do, JJ.”

She was surprised the words rolled out of her mouth like they did. Maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was the walls crumbling in her brain, wanting to push her old life behind her.

“Care to elaborate?” JJ asked beside her.

“I’m dating Rafe Cameron,” she stated, knowing that JJ could put the pieces together.

“Oh,” he said, surprised, furrowing his brow. “I didn’t expect that.” Before Christy could say anything, JJ’s eyes stretched wide, and he looked at her. “Oh. Holy shit. Does your brother know?”

“We had our first encounter with him about an hour ago,” Christy replied, taking the joint back from JJ.

“I take it it didn’t go well?” he asked, and Christy shook her head.

“Nope,” she said, smoke coming out of her mouth. “Barry’s not having much business. Hasn’t been good ever since Rafe ghosted him. He won’t move his own product, he needs people to buy from him in bulk, which no one will do because Rafe told everyone he’s a crazy motherfucker. Right now it’s just a few close friends he has.”

“Agatha probably didn’t help, huh?” JJ asked, and Christy just shook her head. “If anyone can get through it, it’s you, Christy. You’re pogue through and through.”

“You don’t know me,” she said quietly, handing him the joint. Her eyelids were heavy and she pressed her palms into the smooth, soft surface of the driftwood.

“I know enough. Anyone to have been through as much shit as you can get away from that situation. It takes one to know one, Christy.”

She looked over at him. JJ was smiling softly, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“Here’s your weed,” she said, pulling the baggie out of her pocket. “Same strain you’re smoking now. You can finish the joint, too.”

“Here’s your fifty,” JJ said, handing her two twenties and a ten. “Thanks for your business.”

“And for yours,” she said, standing. JJ laughed as she had to catch her balance.

“Hey Christy?” JJ called quietly as she turned to walk away.

“Yeah, JJ?”

“Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“You got it,” she said, turning away so JJ couldn’t see her smile. The two of them had always had a natural understanding of each other. It takes one to know one, as he said. It was true.

Christy trudged up the beach and back into Rafe’s waiting truck. “You good?” he asked, and Christy nodded.

“Let’s go get stoned.”

---

Christy woke up before Rafe did. He was rolled towards her, an arm draped around her waist with his mouth slightly open.

Rafe’s breath smelled of weed. She smiled to herself, remembering the events of the previous night. They had gone onto the Druthers, laying on the outside seats, and smoked. The strain Christy brought was her favorite indica. She usually smoked it before bed. It was the only thing that would shut her brain up.

“This is nice,” Rafe said after a few hits. His eyes were soft under his hooded lids. “I like it. I feel good.” They were laying next to each other, feeling the boat rock gently beneath them. She was laying on his chest while Rafe gently threaded his fingers through her hair, occasionally scratching her scalp.

Christy fell asleep like that. She only woke up once to Rafe carrying her down the dock; she murmured his name and tightened her grip as she felt him step onto the soft grass. He had to briefly put her down to open the door to the house, but he picked her up again and quietly ascended the stairs before pushing open his bedroom door and setting her down in his bed, sliding next to her and pulling the covers over them.

That’s where they were now. Rafe Cameron’s bed. His grey pillowcases smelled like him, like cedar and seawater. It was an odd combination, but she liked it.

Rafe had put her phone on the bed between them. The time read 5:32. Her shift started at 7, so Christy decided she could get away with a few more minutes of dozing. Her work apron was draped across a chair in Rafe’s room, and she could probably rewear the previous day’s clothes, which were piled on the floor next to it.

Christy’s stomach rolled at two missed calls from Barry. He wasn’t a texter. He was a caller. Christy was a talker, hating phone communication and opting to talk to people face to face. She willed herself to push the thought of what he had to say until she would go home after her shift that afternoon.

Rafe was still asleep by the time she left for work at 6:30. She kissed him gently before closing his bedroom door softly behind her and trying to leave the house undetected.

On her walk to work, she smoked a cigarette, willing the brief high to wash away the thought of Barry, which lingered in the back of her head. Instead, she focused on the sound of the laughing gulls on the shore, and the rhythmic lapping of the waves as they reached the beach. The crunch of her shoes on the gravel shoulder of the road, of the sound of cars driving by her, of the voices greeting her as she passed houses.

Work was busy with tourists, rebounding back to the island after the hurricane. The hotels had power again, and she talked to her guests about what they had been up to. She liked hearing their stories: what drew them to the OBX, where they came from, who they were. One young couple had just gotten engaged the day before. One table seated an older couple, travelling down the east coast from Connecticut looking for seashells, and asked her the best spots.

“At low tide, the west side of the island is the best,” she suggested, topping off their coffees and putting another handful of prepackaged creamer on the table next to their mugs. “The sound makes it shallower, so there’s lots of critters living there. More intense wave action on the east side will wash some up but they’re usually pretty banged up.”

“That’s a neat necklace,” the woman pointed out. Christy picked up the pendant, smiling. “Did you find that?”

“This? Oh, thanks. I love it. My mom found it.” She couldn’t help but smile at the couple, and at the memory. She pulled it off to hand to the woman. “It’s from a moon snail. The hole is a drill hole, see how regular it is on the edges? Moon snails are predatory, they’ll drill into whatever they can. Usually clams and other snails. Even other moon snails. Like this one here.” Christy pointed out the perfectly rounded hole.

“Did you find it here?” the man asked.

“Nah I’ve found some here though. They’re everywhere. I found this one at Edisto Island near Charleston. You guys should definitely check it out, it’s the best shelling beach I’ve ever been to.”

The couple tenderly looked at each other. “That’s where we got married,” the woman said. “Thirty five years ago. That’s one of our next stops.”

“It’s a special place, that’s for sure,” Christy said, smiling. Mr. Carrera’s voice sounded through the restaurant, calling out her name. “Is there anything else I can get you two?” she asked. The couple shook their heads, and she turned to make her way to the counter.

“I’ve got a big to go order just called in,” he said, scribbling on a notepad. “Can you and Kiara make sure everything makes it into the right containers for them, and then help load it up?”

“Sure thing, Mr. C,” she replied. They were at an odd time of the day – they were still serving breakfast, but had just opened up orders for their lunch menu. Since it was a Sunday, the place was packed with brunchers, and her section was full, keeping her mind occupied.

The shelling couple left her a hefty tip and a sweet note on the receipt. Maybe she would see them on her walk home at the beach she told them about.

“JJ told me about you and Rafe,” Kiara said as they were packing to-go containers into plastic bags as the orders were finished.

“You gonna warn me about him?” Christy asked flatly, almost disinterested. It sounded bitchy of her, but she knew Kiara cared about her.

“Just… be careful.” Kiara replied quietly. “If you ever need a buffer or place to crash away from them… let me know. Okay?”

Christy looked at Kiara, surprised. “Thanks, Kie,” she smiled. It was nice knowing there was someone looking out for her, even if they weren’t extremely close.

The rest of her shift went by quickly and effortlessly, but as she closed out and began walking him, she was smacked in the face with reality. Barry would be waiting for her, without a doubt. She also realized she hadn’t gotten any texts from Rafe. It was two in the afternoon. Surely he would be awake and wanting to talk to her, right?

Christy walked along the beach, her shoes shoved into her backpack. She saw their boat tied to their dock, the trailer just up the shore from it, and she started towards the trailer. Barry was laying on a couch outside. It was nasty – they usually just draped a tarp over it whenever it rained.

After mentally preparing herself for this interaction all day, she was surprised to see Barry grinning at her, calling out to her giddily.

Christy could tell he wasn’t high, but sober. His mood plus his mental state didn’t make sense

Something had happened.

----

fun stuff to come in the next few chapters! shit’s about to hit the fan ;)

taglist (msg or ask for an add!) @stargazingstarkey @letsgofullkook @ims0golden @ampanonyg @hoeforpankow @jjsmentalpolaroids @drewstarkey @obbx-tings @bricksatanakinswindow

#outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #kiara carrera #john b #john b routledge #john booker routledge #pope heyward #drew starkey

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sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 4 years

Text

The Montgomery Files: Chapter 7

Dredd x reader

By @adventuresintooblivion

Word Count: 2194

Summary: A gala. With embezzlement. And Wolfe’s family. Oh joyous day!

Note: Takes place after my series that you can find in the Masterlist.

Montgomery sighed softly, picking idly at her Lo Mein. Tonight was a weird night. Dredd and Y/LN were on a mission together for fucking once but it was guard duty of all things. It was for a fundraiser for kids or something like that. But not only were they undercover, the event was hosted by the Wolfes of all people.

After Chief had told the couple about their assignment, Montgomery had been called into Control for a special favor. While the Chief didn’t cash in her special favors very often, this one seemed to be particularly important. And illegal. Hence, why it had been given to Montgomery.

Her skills with a computer were somewhat infamous amongst her peers. However, they all were aware that what she did wasn’t always within the confines of the law. Most people tended to turn a blind eye since it kept street Judges alive. This was different though.

This assignment wasn’t dangerous and it was almost impossible for either Dredd or Y/LN to get injured let alone killed. It was a fundraiser for crying out loud. What were they doing, hiding guns in the punch? But with the Wolfe’ involved, Montgomery couldn’t help but wonder if this was a bit personal.

Despite the fact that she usually thrived on this underground night life, Montgomery couldn’t help but wish she was at home watching some stupid mystery show. Over the past couple years, she’d practically begged Operators and Handlers alike for a chance like this. To be working with the two best Judges to walk the planet and be allowed to do as much shady shit as she wanted? It was a dream.

And five minutes in it became obvious that Dredd had a stick up his ass the size of the empire state building. His tux was bare minimum. He refused to drink or even grab Y/LN anything. Something about not being intoxicated while on duty. Then to top it off, he wouldn’t dance.

Again Montgomery was staring into the live feed, the gaudy decorations making her go a little cross eyed. For some relief she happened to glance over at a separate screen which displayed, in live time, the charity funds and where they were going. A list next to the sum of money in the account caught her attention. It was all of the guests credit card information, security number and all. Even the bogus cards that had been given the Dredd and Y/LN were listed. If Montgomery wanted to, she could get herself a nice pair of boots.

She pushed the thought aside as she began tracking the funds. Money began to pour in as the bidding started. The website said the money was supposed to fund a research program for children affected by pollution. It was called KIDS2BCURED. While the name was cheesy enough to make it sound real, it didn’t mean anything.

Montgomery flipped through the half dozen windows she had open for this project before finally settling on the bank accounts. It was supposed to arrive in a joint bank account for employees and supervisors to use in order to fund their research. However, no matter how much bidding was done at the fundraiser, no money showed up.

Montgomery frowned. Maybe there was some weirdly high tech security on this.

But then she got curious and began tracking down the paper trail from KIDS2BCURED. It existed on a couple pieces of paper but besides registering for the name the actual company didn’t exist.

Suddenly one of her windows pinged as it begam active. As she pulled it up she glanced at the headline. This was a list of all the bank accounts owned by the Wolfe’s respective business ventures. The one labeled as DuoCare Pharmaceuticals was suddenly filling up with hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Montgomery followed the paper trail on this as well, wondering how real this company was compared to KIDS2BCURED. Soon she found a copyright license for the name and a deed to a warehouse. The nice a reputable kind that’s surrounded by the shittiest part of town and other empty warehouses. And the bank account itself was owned directly by Mr. and Mrs. Wolfe.

“Welp, that’s illegal.” Montgomery couldn’t stop the chuckle as it came unbidden to her lips.

Rodrigez peeked around the wall of the cubical, “Oh? Illegal? Now you wouldn’t be snooping around unauthorized locations again?” His sing-song voice barely penetrated the drone of the party coming through her headphones.

This time Montgomery rolled her eyes, “No, I’m authorized to go where I want this time. But you know the friendly neighborhood fuck-up?”

He nodded eagerly, slowly making his way over to peer at her computer screen.

“Her parents are totally embezzling money from the richest and most powerful families in the Megacity.”

“Aren’t half of those Mafia?”

Montgomery nodded and continued typing.

Rodrigez continued, “No fucking way. That’s too ballsy to be someone related to her. Wait, do you think she knows?”

Before she could answer Rodriez hopped back on his computer and began typing furiously. His face lit up with an intense focus. Montgomery glanced over curious. All she could see was Wolfe’ picture on the screen.

“Oh Montgomery, this is poetic. She’s there.” he exclaimed.

Montgomery felt her mouth fall open, “She’s at the fundraiser?”

He nodded, “She requested off just for it.”

Montgomery squealed happily, “Oh this is gonna be great. Wait, am I a bad person for wanting this to happen?”

Rodrigez shrugged as Montgomery switched the comms on, “Y/LN, Dredd?”

It was Y/LN who replied, “Yes?”

The Handler grinned, “So how’s babysitting?”

“Dear God, Montgomery, don't get me started. Is there something you need?” She groaned into the microphone.

“Hmm? Oh nothing except a possible arrest warrant for Mr. and Mrs. Wolfe.”

There was a long moment of silence on the other side of the comms, “Hello?”

Y/LN cleared her throat, “Yeah, I’m here. I just...What for?”

“Embezzlement. Turns out that little fundraiser they host eventually works around to line their own pockets.”

A deep chuckle came over the comms, “Oh that is too perfect. Has the warrant been made official yet?”

Montgomery rolled her eyes, “Come on, Dredd, what do you take me for?”

Montgomery quickly sent the information to the Chief as a soft groan emanated over the speaker.

“I think you’re a Handler that straddles the line of the law and who frequently dips their toe into questionably legal activities. You’re also really fucking loud,” he replied. The screen finally flickered to life as he finished.

“So why haven’t you arrested me yet?”

Dredd didn’t dignify her with an answer as the scanners began to identify party goers. People dressed in the most expensive of fabrics this city could create. Montgomery chuckled dryly as she noticed the copious amounts of potpourri. So this is what the rich did to hide the stench of the squalor that surrounded them.

A soft ping pulled her from her thoughts as a notification appeared on Dredd’s screen.

His deep voice soon followed, “Arrest order received. We will commence with caution.”

Y/LN grumbled, “You know if it was anyone else besides the Wolfe’ the we wouldn’t be waiting for a warrant. We’re Judges.”

Dredd sighed softly and turned to look at his wife, “They donated thousands of dollars to the Academy since Wolfe joined. Not to mention they have a monopoly on the materials used to make our uniforms bullet proof. Understandably, the Chief is a bit nervous about this whole thing.”

Montgomery interrupted, “Hey guys, maybe we should talk about this later when we aren’t being recorded.”

Y/LN pressed her lips together before standing and making her way towards the Wolfe’. Dredd followed close behind. His hand rested on his firearm gently as they got within speaking distance. Judge Wolfe was standing beside them.

In Montgomery’s opinion, her dress was hideous. It was a silver strapless monstrosity. The color plus the copious amounts of ruffles left her looking like a pale scrawny chicken with no breasts. Her badly dyed hair didn’t help matters in the slightest. And she was about to get the shock of her life.

“Mr. and Mrs. Wolfe you are under arrest for fraud, embezzlement and forgery. You’re coming with us.” Y/LN pulled out her cuffs and began restraining the suspects.

Mr. Wolfe stammered, “E...Excuse me? We’ve done no such thing! Where is the proof?”

Dred spoke over Mr. Wolfe’ rambling, “Sir, you know how this goes. We are waiting to sentence you away from your daughter. Don’t make this any harder on yourself.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? These are my parents, they can’t do anything illegal.” Judge Wolfe’ shrill voice pierced through the clamour of the crowd.

“Stand down Judge. This isn’t your case.” Y/LN shot her down. She wasn’t about to deal with her tonight.

“No I will not stand down! I mean seriously, this can’t be happening. They wouldn’t steal. They donate to a bunch of charities-.”

Y/LN finished for her, “While lining their pockets. We’re not going to discuss this further.”

Wolfe whipped out her badge, “I am a Judge too and I order you not to take them.”

Dredd began pulling the Wolfe’s away, “You don’t have that authority. Stop making a fuss.”

“Also, I’m your partner. I know you’re a Judge. You’re supposed to know how this process works,” Y/L/N grumbled.

Wolfe stomped her foot, “If you take another step I’ll arrest you for...uh...kidnapping.”

Y/LN growled, “Wolfe this is your last chance, get out of the way.” Wolfe folded her arms in defiance, “Alright, you’re charged with obstruction of justice. One night in a holding cell.”

Wolfe’ mouth fell open. She didn’t move in time to escape the cuffs and before long all three Wolfe’ were escorted out.

Y/LN let out a large sigh of relief as she smiled at her husband, “That was so satisfying.”

“DAMN FUCKING RIGHT IT WAS!” Both Y/LN and Dredd flinched, grunting at the pain that lanced through their ears.

Dredd growled, “What the fuck, Montgomery?”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry. That was so cool. I had to put the comms on mute so I didn’t yell your ears off.”

“Don’t worry; I recorded it,” Rodrigez chimed in.

The heavy door on the transport closed with a heavy thunk. The Wolfes all hung their heads in shame. Y/N was about to leave but before she could get very far, something tugged on her hand.

She turned to see Dredd giving her only what she could call a sheepish grin. She couldn’t stop her answering smile from spreading across her lips.

“What?”

“Well.” He pulled her closer until their bodies were pressed together. “I can’t help but notice that you’re all nice and dressed up.”

She smiled as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her body molding against his, “You look rather handsome yourself.”

Dredd chuckled, “Why thank you. Now, we have a rare opportunity presented to us. We are both dressed up, out on the town and have the rest of the night free. Fuck the Wolfe. They’ll still be there in the morning.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, “Judge Dredd, putting off the law?”

He pressed his lips against hers, silencing her before pulling her away from the gathering crowd. They quickly disappeared into a nearby hotel. Y/N laughed nervously as she looked around.

The place was decorated lavishly. Even though they’d never been here before it was obvious it’d been decorated for some event. The chandeliers glinted like thousands of stars against a marble ceiling. Plush chairs were set around a large fireplace. Tables and desks shone with an intense red that Dredd didn’t know could belong to wood.

A clerk dressed in a tux glanced up from the front desk, “Hello, are you two here for the Midnight Gala?”

Dredd pressed his lips together, “ Yes?”

The clerk nodded before typing quickly on his computer, “Names please?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Y/LN,” Y/N answered.

After a few clicks he smiled, “Welcome Mr. and Mrs. Y/LN I’m so glad you could make it. I have your reservations right here. Would you like me to print out your invitations?”

Dredd shared a look with his wife before replying, “That’d be great.”

As they were being escorted through the hotel, Y/N leaned over to her husband, “What the fuck?”

The comms buzzed to life, “You’re welcome.”

“Montgomery? You’ve got to stop this, you’re being creepy.”

“Then turn off your cameras.”

Y/N grumbled before finally asking, “You did this?”

Montgomery chuckled, “You two looked so adorable such busy busy Judges. I figured you could use the break.”

Y/LN smiled despite the fact that the Handler couldn’t see her, “That’s awfully sweet of you. So, what’re you planning?”

“Nothing.” She replied. “But after you’re done I”ll be rooting for you to fuck him sideways.”

Y/N suppressed the urge to admonish her but instead turned off her camera and squeezed Dredd’s elbow, urging him to do the same.

#dredd x reader #judge dredd x reader #dredd imagines #judge dredd imagine #dredd imagine #reader insert #the montgomery files #Dredd OCs

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ablogcalledrevenge · 4 years

Photo

Do Androids Enjoy Paris? (An Ash x Reader Insert Fic, Rated T)

It’s decades later when you find him. He’s in surprisingly good shape for being almost 50 years old. When you run a diagnostics check on him days later, you’re almost touched to see how well he was taken care of. Yearly upgrades and tune-ups, expanded memory chip, barely any wear or tear on the joints or internal wiring. He could be a museum piece, he was so well kept. And now he was yours.

So what does one do when they’re suddenly gifted with an android copy of an unknown dead man?

Take him to see the world.

When you bought the house from Kate’s mom, you didn’t really understand what the Ash Clause referred to. According to the contract, you just had to maintain the Ash model for the length of ownership. When you asked your friend what Ash was, she chuckled and shook her head.

“Oh wow, I haven’t thought about him in years. He’s like this weird robot my grandma had. I think I saw him once. He was kind of like a memory bank, I think he would do some cleaning.” She said and you shrugged. You could take care of a sentient vacuum.

But when you finally get to the little house, you don’t see any robot. You find a vacuum, covered in dust, but very little else. It isn’t until your third night that you meet Ash.

You’re in bed, trying to fall asleep. You’re not used to the countryside and you had been staring at your phone right before trying to sleep, which you know is bad. You’re in that hazy almost dreaming phase when you hear a thud from above. You freeze in your bed, suddenly terrified that a monster is going to come crashing through the roof and eat you.

Instead, you hear the sound of a chair being pushed across the floor above you. There’s nothing above you but the roof, you’re on the second floor. The house is just two floors and an attic. Your stomach drops and you let out a shaky breath. There’s someone in the attic.

Grabbing your phone and a frying pan from the kitchen, you carefully pull down the steps to the attic. All the noise stops and you preemptively dial 999 in case there’s a murderer up there and you need to call the police. Your finger hovers over the button as light floods down over you.

The attic is small but decorated with furniture. There’s a plush rug under your toes and a nice coffee table with soft squishy looking chairs around it. There’s a computer plugged in and a rack of clothes. Does someone live up here? Did Kate forget to tell you about a renter?

You hear a throat clear and you whirl around, holding your frying pan out like a weapon. The person you see isn’t scary, he isn’t holding a gun or anything, but you still scream in surprise.

“No please, don’t scream. I’m not dangerous I promise!” He assures you, stepping forward as you leap back. You fall into one of the armchairs and it knocks the breath out of you.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m Ash. Didn’t Kate or Indira tell you about me? I know you bought the house.” He says, kneeling in front of you to perhaps seem less threatening. It worked a little and you slowly felt your heart return to a normal rhythm.

“They just told me I had to maintain an Ash model. I was expecting a cleaning robot, not a person!” You shoot back, once you find your voice. You haven’t lowered your frying pan. At that, Ash ducks his head bashfully. He doesn’t flush or turn red though, like a person would. He also hasn’t blinked since you noticed him.

“That’s me. I’m the Ash model. I’m an android technically though. This is where I stay.” He says with a note of resigned acceptance, sweeping his arm out over his humble abode.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Why are you up here? Why do I have to take care of you? You look kind of familiar, have we met before?” You ask, ignoring his identity for a moment, as he sits down on the couch across from you. Despite it being 2 in the morning, he dressed like he’s going to work. He’s wearing dark slacks with a blue button down shirt; he’s even got shoes on!

“It’s a bit of a long story.” Ash says and he explains it all to you. As the time passes, you listen as Ash reveals family secret after family secret. You find yourself staring at the pulled skin of Ash’s knuckles or the way the light shines across his multi-shaded hair. He’s a feat of engineering, that was for sure. Androids weren’t super rare in society, though they were uncommon. Androids took the place of people when it involved inhospitable environments or testing reactions to new drugs. Androids couldn’t feel pain but they could mimic the human body’s reaction. They were essential in the field of science and medicine. Which made it all the stranger that Kate’s grandma just had one.

It’s a sad story to be sure. Losing a loved one is never easy and grief can make people do crazy things. Now you know why Ash’s face looks vaguely familiar to you. You’ve seen his face in an old wedding photo of Kate’s grandparents. But then the passage of time actually sinks in. Kate, like you, is in her late 20s. Martha was her grandma! Ash has been up here for decades, sitting alone and getting sent to a facility once a year for upgrades. Martha’s been dead for 5 years now and the house has been empty. Kate mentioned that she hadn’t seen Ash since she was a little kid.

“So you’ve just been alone for all this time? Hasn’t anyone visited you?” You ask, incredulously. Mrs. Portman was his daughter! Well, sort of, not really.

“Yes. Indira comes to visit sometimes, usually when I have to get upgraded. We talk and she has tea and it’s very nice. But other than that, no. She stopped seeing me on weekends when she left for school. I assumed she was busy living her own life. After that Martha stopped coming up as well. I think it bothered her that she was aging and I wasn’t. I never minded though, I don’t care about that sort of thing. Do you want tea?” The change of subject does little to distract you. All you can think of is the clause in your lease contract.

“You realize that I own the house now, I bought it from Mrs. Portman. You were part of the contract I signed. I’m supposed to take care of you. I own you. Doesn’t that bother you? You’re being passed down like a family heirloom!” You point out, shaking your head as Ash offers you tea. You don’t think he can drink it and it seems rude to use up his supply.

“Why should it? Martha wanted to take care of me. I have a nice life up here. I have the internet and I get to see people sometimes. There’s not much I need.” He says simply and your heart breaks for him.

“But Martha’s dead! She’s dead and you’re still here! Don’t you see how cruel that is? She’s allowed to die and be at peace and, depending on your belief system, finally be with her Ash. But instead of shutting you down, she’s kept you running. There’s no reason. It’s not like Mrs. Portman has really interacted with you in years. So why are you still running? Don’t you deserve some peace?”

Ash pauses and looks at you. It’s strange, but he seems almost sad. AI technology has come a long way, but his ability to mimic sadness is honestly amazing.

“Martha’s dead?” His voice sounds hollow and you get up and join him on the couch.

“Yes, she died five years ago. You weren’t told?” You reach over and grab his hand. It’s cool to the touch but very soft. It feels like skin, though you know it’s synthetic. He feels human.

“No, I wasn’t told. I always assumed that when she died, I’d either go live with Indira or I’d be shut down. I didn’t think she’d keep me running with no purpose.” He sighs and his chest doesn’t move.

“Maybe she couldn’t bear the thought of you dying. Maybe she thought Indira would want you in her life. I don’t know. But what I do know is that we’re here and we’re together now. I signed that contract and I’m going to take care of you. But you get to decide what that means. If you want to stay up here and be left alone, I can do that. But if you want to be shut down, I understand and I can do that too.” You promise and he looks at you. His eyes are beautiful and wet, hazy blue and light green mixed together and piercing into your soul. You’re in awe of how his eyes bore into you.

“I don’t know what I want. I’ve been up here so long. I was only made for a few things. I don’t have wants or needs besides basic maintenance.” He says shakily.

“Well, now’s the time to figure it out.” You whisper in the quiet of the attic. The smile he gives you is blinding in it’s sincerity and joy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You go to Paris first, walking along the Seine in the summer. You show Ash all the artwork he’s only ever seen through a screen, watch him embrace the human condition as he marvels at a Monet and shakes his head at a Picasso. He doesn’t tan like you do but after giving a little boy back his ball by the Carrousel du Louvre, he has a riot of freckles across his shoulders that match the toddler’s.

He does that a lot; change his appearance as he meets people. He has a mole on his clavicle that disappears occasionally. He can’t seem to decide if he wants it or not. You don’t care either way, you tell him he’s beautiful at least once an hour. He responds back in kind and while someone else would take that as a lie; he’s an android so what could he know about human beauty, you beam at the words. You figure he’s probably objective so the small words are taken as the compliment they’re intended to be.

The only weird parts are when you need to eat and sleep. It’s strange at first to go to a cafe and eat in front of him. He always tastes things but he never swallows, politely spitting it out in his napkin. He doesn’t have taste buds, he can’t enjoy the bouquet of flavors you bring to his lips every breakfast, lunch, or dinner; but despite that he always asks to try. You can see how desperately he wants to be human so you humor him and let him try your crepes.

He doesn’t sleep, though he will lay down in bed with you. He makes no sounds and only mimics breathing to keep you from feeling uncomfortable. Eventually you ask him to stop. You’ve always hated noise when you’re trying to sleep and it’s nice to be held by something that doesn’t snore in your ear or drool on you.

“I can if you want me to.” Ash teases one morning and you throw a pillow at him. His laugh sounds like triumph.

You’re walking along the Pont des Arts, Notre Dame in the distance and vanilla ice cream in your hand. The stroll is leisurely and even, Ash swinging your hands as you tread across the wooden boards. You’re going to Italy next and then maybe Spain. He’s decided he wants to see the world and you’re only too happy to show him.

He stops and rests his arm on the railing, the wind ruffling his hair back. You lay your head on his shoulder which is warm through his linen shirt.

“Would you want to have sex?” He asks suddenly and you almost drop your ice cream in the river. You pull back to look at him, your face pink.

“I just know that when couples travel together they usually have sex. I can have sex, I have the equipment for it. I’ve done it before.” He says and his tone is so casual and even. In perhaps an ironic twist, you’re the one who feels like they’re short circuiting. You eat some ice cream while you try to come up with an answer.

“Ash, I think you’re so handsome and I love the time we spend together. I enjoy sleeping next to you in bed and holding your hand. But sex isn’t the same as that. Kissing isn’t the same as that. I would love to kiss you and have sex and make this relationship more physical but I want that for the right reasons. I want to have sex with you because you want to, not because you think we should. Not because studies show couples have sex on holiday or because you did it before.” You counter, squeezing his hands.

“It’s hard for me to want things. I don’t think the way you do.” He reminds you. You give him a soft smile and step back to throw away your ice cream. Your hand is cold against his cheek but he doesn’t react. Not the way a human would.

“I know Ash and that’s okay. I don’t mind if our relationship never turns physical, if it doesn’t look like other relationships. I enjoy spending time with you and I care about you. It’s okay to not want something.” You assure him but instead of looking relieved, he looks angry.

“But I should! I want to want things the way you do, the way normal people do! I watch everyone go through life, experiencing the world and they feel things. I don’t feel things and it’s not fair!” He yells. People walking by look at you but you don’t pay them any attention.

“But you do feel things, I know you do. You don’t like the BeeGees. You prefer wearing blue over any other color. When we went to the museum, you said you liked Monet over Manet. Those are opinions, those are feelings. Sure, they might not work the same way mine do, but human beings are all so different. We all see the world in different ways and I’m sure there’s someone out there who thinks the way you do. You may not be able to eat the food you try, but you still want to try it. That’s feelings.” You say before leaning forward and kissing him softly.

His lips are soft and dry and if you close your eyes, which you do, it’s like kissing a real person. You pull back and notice his eyes are closed as well. Your heart thumps against your ribcage.

“I don’t need to kiss or have sex to function properly. But that was nice. It was soft and it made you happy. Seeing you happy makes me happy. I know that sex is something couples do to show their affection and I want to do that for you. I want to make you happy in that way. I want to kiss you and have sex and be like a normal couple.” He says definitely, pulling you into a hug. He’s very good at hugs but you make a mental note to have him look up asexuality when this is done. It’s not a perfect comparison but it might help him feel better.

“Okay Ash, when we get back to the hotel, we’ll have sex. But until then, let’s just explore. Want to see Notre Dame today?” You agree, your hand sliding down his forearm to mesh between his fingers. This time he leans down and kisses you. It’s still a little stiff but you’ll teach him. He wants to learn. Pulling away, continue your walk down the bridge and onto the street.

“Yes, I would like that.” He smiles, and you fall in love.

Tagging @babbushka because she asked so nicely lol.

#be right back #do androids enjoy paris #black mirror #self insert fanfiction #reader insert fanfiction #ash starmer #ash starmer x reader #ash x reader #this is just a weird oneshot that wouldn't leave me alone #i just think the idea of ash staying in that attic is so sad #he deserves to see the world #domhnall gleeson #black mirror fanfiction #not beta'd #this is obscure and i dont think anyone will read it #but i wanted to put it out #my writing

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atc74 · 5 years

Text

Making Circles - Month One

Square(s) Filled: Fake Marriage for @spngenrebingo

Warnings: Case angst, being fake married to Dean, feels, mentions of death

Summary: Dean and Y/N have to pretend to be married for a case. But this isn’t any ordinary case. Married couples have gone missing from Albert Lea, Minnesota, every six months for the last few years but there is almost zero evidence. People don’t just disappear like that do they? With Bobby and Sam’s help, plus an ally in their new town, they have just under six months to figure it out. Chances are they’ll survive the case, but will their friendship survive their fake marriage?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2342

Written for: @spngenrebingo

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, who says the nicest things and makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside and also keeps me on a straight line. I heart you! And @alleiradayne for letting me bounce ideas off her, like all the time.

A/N: This will be six chapter series, one for each month of the case, plus a bonus epilogue. Loosely based/inspired by the song Making Circles by Christian Kane and I just felt this needed to be written. There will be lyrics dispersed throughout the entire story. I hope you love this as much as I do. The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

Making Circles master list

Month One

“So get this,” Sam started as Dean and Y/N entered Bobby’s kitchen early one morning. “I think I found a case.” Sam turned his laptop around so they can both see the details.

“You sure this is our kind of thing, Sammy? I don’t know man. This looks pretty normal as far as I can tell,” Dean grumbled, taking a seat.

“What else did you find Sam?” Y/N asked, turning her attention to Sam.

“Well, there have been disappearances going back a few years. Every six months or so another couple is murdered. All of these couples seem normal with blue collar jobs and homes, but from what I was able to dig up, nothing out of the ordinary,” Sam explained. “All the homes of the missing couples have been combed over, but all the evidence is at the Bureau of Criminal Apprehension (BCA) in Saint Paul and they have a mammoth backlog. We may not know anything for months, even years. Or possibly never. It isn’t exactly high priority, ya know?”

“You idjits better get a move on,” Bobby addressed Dean and Y/N as he poured a cup of coffee.

“Bobby, we’ve got basically no intel. We have no idea what we’re hunting and you want us to walk in there blind?” Dean argued with his surrogate father. “That’s not smart. Besides, why does it have to be us?”

“Oh, you want me and Sam to pose as happily married couple?” Bobby smacked Dean across the back of the head.

“Dean, it only makes sense. Y/N and I get along too well and it would be weird, pretending to be married to a woman I view as my sister,” Sam made a face at the thought.

“Dean, we’ve got time. From this report, the last couple went missing just a week ago. That gives us almost six months to figure it out,” Y/N reasoned as she rose from the table, a smile on her face. “I’m going to go shower and pack.”

An hour later, Y/N and Dean sat with Bobby at his kitchen table, Sam having gone out to produce some documents. “Now, I’ve made some calls to a couple of friends in the area. Dean, Jake has a job ready for you in his shop Monday morning. Y/N, I’ve got something lined up for you at the County Library. Here are the keys to the safe house. My cleaning lady should have it ready to go for you by the time you get there and the cupboards should be stocked.”

“Bobby, I don’t like this,” Dean shook his head. “We have no idea what is going on here.”

“Your brother and I aren’t going to let anything happen to you idjits. I got too much time and energy invested in ya to just let you vanish,” Bobby groaned. “Now, there’s one more thing. Two really. Here.” He handed Dean a small box.

Dean lifted the hinged lid, finding two gold rings inside. The pit in his stomach expanded, knowing these rings belonged to Bobby and his wife Karen, whom he had to kill when she became possessed by a demon. The old man never fully recovered from that. “Bobby…”

“This ain’t no time for sentiments, kid. Just take em, okay,” Bobby stomped heavily from the room, the screen door slamming behind him, making Y/N jump from the sound.

“I guess here goes nothing. Mrs. Winchester?” Dean took out the smaller ring and held it up for Y/N to put her hand out. The ring slid easily onto the fourth finger of her left hand. Dean slid Bobby’s ring onto his own finger. It felt heavy on his hand, or maybe it was just heavy on his mind.

Sam returned a few minutes later with the papers they needed, along with new identification cards. “Here are your clean ID’s and marriage certificate. The house is listed in Bobby’s corporation, so that is not a problem. He also set up a joint bank account in both your names, well, new names. This is your proof of insurance and Y/N, there will be a vehicle parked at the house for you. A very unassuming Honda Civic.”

“A foreign car, Sam! Really?!” Dean protested.

“Actually, Honda manufactures models right here in the U.S., Dean,” Sam informed his brother.

“No way my real wife would drive a Japanese car,” Dean mumbled as he looked over the rest of the documents. “Wait...our new last name is Hetfield? Awww Sammy, it makes me all tingly when you remember the little shit.”

“Shut up Dean,” Sam said, turning to Y/N and handing her all the documents. “Safe travels. We’ll be in touch.”

~*~

“Jesus, I have driven a lot of miles over the years, but this is boring as fuck. There is literally nothing but farmland.” Dean pointed out for probably the tenth time in the last two hours. Y/N thanked her lucky stars that they were almost there.

Albert Lea, Minnesota was less than a three hour drive from Bobby’s place. It was close enough that he and Sam could get there quickly if she and Dean needed back up. With any luck, they would figure out what they were dealing with, and they wouldn’t be here long. On the other hand, six months of normal sounded like heaven to Y/N right now after the last few years.

She turned on her GPS as they entered town, programming the address Sam had given her. Within minutes, they pulled up to a quaint, craftsman style home with a long driveway and impeccable landscaping. Dean pulled into the driveway, cutting Baby’s engine.

“Did you know Bobby owned this place?” Dean looked at Y/N.

“I knew he had a couple of safe houses, but I thought they were all like Rufus’ hunting cabin. Not this. This is going to be like living in the lap of luxury compared to the motels we’ve slummed it in,” she chuckled softly, opening her door and getting out of the car.

Dean followed quickly, opening the trunk to grab their bags. “Motels? Shit, this place is even nicer than Bobby’s. I bet we won’t even need tetanus shots from walking around the yard barefoot!” He laughed, slamming Baby’s trunk shut.

They carried in their bags, not having much from living a life on the road, and walked up the front steps to the door. “Mrs. Hetfield, do you have the key?”

“Why yes, Mr. Hetfield. Allow me to do the honors,” Y/N smiled as she took the key and unlocked the door. Dean dropped his bags and scooped her up in his arms, despite her protests. He walked through the door and set her down on a comfortable looking recliner. “Dean!”

“It’s tradition to carry your bride across the threshold!” He told her, grabbing their bags from the front porch.

They took their time exploring the home. There were three bedrooms upstairs with one full bathroom. The updated kitchen had a small island and new appliances. The basement was fully finished with two small bedrooms and another full bathroom. Y/N grabbed two beers from the fully stocked fridge, as promised, and met Dean in the backyard. There was a two car garage, housing one newer model Civic and a large assortment of tools. It had everything Dean would need to maintain both cars. There was also a small shed in the corner of the yard which contained a lawn mower and a variety of garden tools and supplies.

“Wow, Bobby really set us up, huh?” Y/N turned to Dean as they sat on the double swing on the back patio. It was was a beautiful home and yard. Y/N looked forward to working in the garden, making a mental note to grab some books on the subject.

“Yeah, he did,” Dean sighed heavily, finishing off his beer. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

“Okay. I’m going to run into town and pick up some clothes for work. Do you need anything?” Y/N asked, taking his empty bottle.

“No, I think I’m good. Thanks,” Dean declined, holding the door open for her.

Y/N couldn’t help but see Dean was hiding something, and she knew him well enough by now to see the subtle differences. She decided to let it go for now. It had already been a long day with having this situation thrown at them and the drive. It would take some adjusting on both their parts. She set out in her car, exploring the town a little, finding a couple of diners, coffee shops and a thrift store. She picked out a few new things for Dean as well as a new work wardrobe for herself. Making a quick stop at the butcher shop, she picked up a couple of steaks as well as stuffed burgers, wanting to do something nice for Dean, and well, the man appreciated red meat.

Y/N let the steaks sit out while she started a load of laundry. Dean ambled into the kitchen just as she was putting together a quick salad, the potatoes baking in the oven. “Hey. Thought we could grill, I picked up a couple of Porterhouses.”

“That sounds great. I’ll go get it ready,” Dean acknowledged and slipped out the back door. A few minutes later, she followed, carrying the steaks and a couple of beers, handing one off to him.

“I know we got a lot thrown at us today, but we’re going to get to the bottom of this, Dean,” she tried to reassure him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I promise.”

“We never go into a hunt blind, Y/N. I don’t care if we have six fucking months or not, this ain’t right, and they both know it, too!” Dean snapped and immediately regretted his words, seeing the look on her face. “Hey, I’m sorry. I know you’re stuck in this, too.”

“It’s okay. We’ll get through this together, Dean. It’s what couples do,” she stated, like it was the most simple thing in the world.

“But we’re not a real couple, Y/N. I’ve never been in a real relationship before, not really, and never like this. This apple pie life we’re supposed to live? We’re used to living a lie on the job, but long term? I don’t know.” Dean sighed heavily, turning the steaks on the grill. “I just don’t know.”

Once dinner was ready, they ate in an uncomfortable silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Y/N thinking of ways to help Dean see the positives and Dean working the case in his head, running through the list of monsters he knew and which one could be responsible for the married couples’ disappearances.

Monday arrived quickly, Dean taking off early for his new job at the garage, leaving without so much as a goodbye. Y/N felt her heart continue to sink, and it was only the third day. She readied for work and packed lunches for both of them. She had enough time to swing by the shop on her way to the library.

Y/N pulled up to the garage and stepped out of her car. She walked across the small lot and inside the lobby.

“Good morning, Miss. What can we help you with today?” An older gentleman, about Bobby’s age, greeted her. He was wearing grease covered overalls and a smile on his face.

“I’m Y/N, here to see Dean W-Hetfield please,” she caught herself, covering her slip with a cough.

“Are you the missus? You’re a pretty lady. Dean really out punted his coverage with you, didn’t he?” the old man chuckled, adding a wink. “I’m Jake. Pleased to meet ya.”

“Yeah, I guess he did,” she laughed along with him, knowing Jake already knew their secret and had given Dean this job as cover.

“Hetfield! Yer lady’s here!” He yelled through the door to the service bays.

Dean walked in a few moments later, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. She had seen him work on Baby, and numerous cars in Bobby’s yard, but seeing him now, shed a whole new light on him. This Dean, the one she was fake married to. The one that lived a normal life with a normal job and a wife and a house. She pushed down the simmer in her belly and walked up to her ‘husband,’

“You forgot your lunch, babe,” she smiled, handing him a brown paper bag.

Dean opened the bag, seeing two turkey and bacon sandwiches, chips, an apple and a can of Coke. “Thanks, honey. I guess I was preoccupied.”

“Have a good day. I’ll see you tonight,” she stepped closer and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. She waved at both of them, exiting the shop. “Nice to meet you, Jake!”

And thus began the routine of her bringing Dean lunch at the shop every morning on her way to work. By the fourth day, she invited Jake over for dinner that weekend. She hoped it might put Dean at ease, having someone on their side locally that knew their real story and he didn’t have to fake it around Jake because of the others in the garage.

Saturday morning rolled around and Y/N had done her shopping, picked up the house and made a pie while Dean mowed the lawn and slow smoked a brisket on the grill. She was settling into their new life fairly well but Dean was having trouble adjusting. He came home late most nights and ate his dinner standing up at the small island.

She didn’t know where he was when he didn’t come home straight away, but the smell of stale smoke mingled with his own scent of coffee, leather and motor oil. At least it wasn’t cheap perfume, she thought. At least this Dean, her fake husband, was faithful to her.

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean @dolphincliffs @mrswhozeewhatsis @meganwinchester1999 @cherrycokegirls1 @closetspngirl @roxyspearing @flamencodiva @blacktithe7 @sis-tafics @just-another-busyfangirl @evansrogerskitten @amanda-teaches @hannahindie @wotinspntarnation @winchesterprincessbride @winecatsandpizza @kickingitwithkirk @wi-deangirl77 @hobby27 @mogaruke @gh0stgurl @paintrider13-blog @hunterscabin @alleiradayne @idreamofplaid @squirrelnotsam

The Dean’s List: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @dean-winchesters-bacon @maddiepants @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @supernatural-jackles @docharleythegeekqueen @adoptdontshoppets @mtngirlforever

#spngenrebingo #dean winchester fan #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x reader smut #dean x reader angst #dean x reader fluff

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slothgiirl · 5 years

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forever isn’t for everyone (is forever for you) part 8

We hit the ground running and there's no time to be awkward around Alex. Not when I'm always rushing about, trying to confirm and pin down people and rushing into the bus after a show.

The states are huge. With long distances to cover between shows, the scenery passing us by in the dark. Ben’s knowledge of it all comes in handy, leading us to our if the way places with good food and he keeps the drinks coming.

I barely get a chance to realize I'm in Canada before we're getting back on the tour bus and it's not long before I'm taking a drag from the joints that get liberally passed around out of sheer boredom.

There's only so much to do on the road, couped up in a bus with a bunch of techies. Lucy laughs at my sad attempts to play blackjack and I can only laugh along with her.

It's a good thing that there's two tour buses. I don't think I could stand to be couped up with Alex. If he wanted to avoid me then I'd do him a favor and avoid him as well. My gaze passing over him as all of us sat down late at night as we pulled into New York city, a free day from a concert but a press day all the same.

Jaime finds out from Lucy that I'm terrible at blackjack and grins as he wins american bills from me, laughing easily, Miles taking the blunt of the attention off of a band that hates all the bells and whistles that come along with being successful. "aren't you supposed to be good with money," he jokes as he wins for the fourth time in a row as we wrap up a shoot, the sun having set while we spent the day with the press.

I was starving. Fruit platters were not enough. I giggle, "that's not all economics is! and it's a card game. Not my fault i'm still getting the hang of it."

"You didn't play it at uni," Nick asks with a grin, having successfully extracted a number off the shoots stylist.

"No. At least I didn't. I was too busy getting a degree unlike some people I know," I reply looking at them both meaningfully. We'd settled in with each other easily by now.

Jamie shrugs shamelessly, "rather be a rockstar than have to go to uni."

" 'fink I would've dropped out," Nick muses.

"We'll see who has the last laugh when your on some reality show for washes up rock stars in ten years," I retort back with a grin.

"That soon," Nick snorts. "Give us at least twenty years."

The famous skyline passes by us as we head out to meet the others and we never steal a glimpse at the statue of liberty before were hauling ass to Detroit and a plethora of other cities never mentioned in movies.

And if I can sometimes feel Alex's stare on me, I force myself to ignore it, losing myself in the drinks and Lucy rambling on about one of her many pet peeves. Tonight's being the fact that men are disgusting and can't keep anything clean and would it kill them to keep their dirty clothes off the floor, "I swear I can't even see the tour bus floor anymore!"

"It'll get better when we do laundry," I offer before she's off again. Laundry won't get done until we leave for the first european leg. There's no breaks in between.

Mum complains that I'll miss my sisters eighteenth birthday but it can't be helped. Hopefully all the trinkets I've been collecting from tour will make up for it once I send the package before it fills up all my suitcase.

In the blink of an eye, we're in Salt lake City, having made our way across the country in a way I could've only dreamed of and I know I made the right choice when I took the job.

"Told you you'd fall into it," Ben utters, wrapping an arm around me with a carefree smile before he's off giving directions and tell some techie to load up on alcohol because their weird about it in Utah.

I shake my head.

"He's right though isn't he," Lucy grins, a joint in hand and Miles beside her, bits of glitter from yesterday's show still stuck on his skin.The sunset just makes the panorama look even more gorgeous that it is. The mountains in the distance and the intensity of the green surrounding us.

"Yeah Ellie," Miles grins, charming as ever, "bet those wankers who took on," he pretends to straighten up a tie, "very proper jobs are about ready to knell over and die."

I snort, taking a drag of the joint. Oh what my parents would say if they knew how much weed and alcohol I'd been having lately. I might have not done much in uni but I was more than making up for it now. "

Hey they get bank holidays," I joke, running a hand through my hair and wondering if this was the kind of panorama all those english romantics had been on about, "meanwhile I have to put up with your ugly mug!"

"Oi," Miles grins back sharply, "NME called me an indie dreamboat."

"Lucy must have bribed them."

Lucy throws her head back, bursting into laughter, "come on I'm starving and Ben said there's a mexican place with bottomless mimosas today since they don't sell alcohol on sundays."

"What the fuck," Miles shouts, before shaking his head, "this is why no one likes americans."

As promised there are bottomless mimosas which Miles plows his way threw with glee. The techies are already at the venue, having an early start the next day. The grueling schedule means no nice hotels and I miss the meandering pace we had down under.

Jamie doesn't let the lack of dance floor stop him roping Lucy along, our group causing a ruckus between the food and drinks and Miles being Miles, clamping Matt on the back as he shares stories that have to be wildly exaggerated.

There's just no way he'd had a threesome with Jack and Meg White not matter how loudly he said it was true as Matt kept rolling his eyes.

I drink and flint in and out of the conversation, the lion share of my work having been finished on the bus. Watching as Matt sneaks off with a pretty girl.

We were technically supposed to stop any of that monkey business before a concert, but Matt was good about making his way back unlike Miles who'd we'd lost in Montreal, the language barrier not helping.

It had been Alex who'd found him in the end, playing with some street musicians.

Alex joins in, playing along with Miles as they both get completely trashed, Miles glomping onto Alex's side like a damsel in distress while Alex laughs.

Despite what's happened between us, I still find myself stealing glances when I can, when the rooms dark and he's not holed up on the bands bus, waking up late in the day and dominating Miles attention.

As if he could hear my thoughts, Alex looks over at me catching my gaze, his eyes still holding the same warmth of a hot cuppa in winter.

I look away, letting Lucy pull me along with her and Jamie who's gone ruddy red as he dances badly. It's all the push I need to dance with them.

Tomorrow I'd have a killer hangover, but tonight Lucy and Jamie were both mouthing along to Poker Face and that was too good not to get caught up in.

#Alex Turner #alex turner fanfic #alex turner imagine #alex turner x reader #forever isn't for everyone

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kansascitygreekrestaurantsk-blog · 4 years

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Find the nearest TD Bank - The Dominion Bank in Bronx, New York

TD Bank, Bronx

640 Pelham Pkwy S Bronx, NY 10462

Review

I popped my first checking accounts using this type of branch a good several years back and its still the main branch that I visit. Often the staff listed below are very form and educated so I do appreciate that. Often the only problem to this kind of place is that these people have the old ATMs that only dispenses 20 dollars charges, which can always be a hassle and often the wrinkles can get super long at times in fact if there is satisfactory staff available, which is definitely weird to me.

Review

I been recently with this standard bank with regard to the last 5 year's while using situation that Now i am going with this bsnk I actually not strongly suggested to no body since The spring if they pass that they new policy every payment that I have to carry out they over draft me personally for no reason for the reason that I always have cash in the account this loan provider is normally a froud in addition to the costumer service may do anything over it make sure you be careful. I have got to purchase a start due to the fact I have to to review it

TD Bank, 10461

1864 Williamsbridge Rd Bronx, NY 10461

Review

Fine location. At times that could be stressful but it's manageable. Oftentimes not necessarily all atm's are operating at full potential. Executing business in here will be very swift dependent on the time associated with day in addition to 12 months.

Review

To 2nd the earlier analyze. A person of the reasons that they got purge if the penny arcades was your inaccuracy of said equipment. At this point my account. I actually moved out and bought the own change counter and even rolls simply because they will have change like that. We just lately deposited $150 @ the Wall St. office and, even got cost-free rolls. I tried to the actual same here nevertheless wad told by this teller often the max gold coin deposit is $25. What exactly kinda junk is the fact that? They remove the adjust counter, now they limit the amount of I can put in? Shameful!

Review

If I can offer this place stop actors I would. Sad to say yelp doesn't allow that. I came here to use to the coin machine plus 50 percent way through the particular machine checking my gold coins that ended working. Whenever a good people from typically the bank came out to fix the machine I received some sort of paper stating of which I simply had $12. 24 cents. I find out I had 54 cash. I mean why will My spouse and i go to the bank to simply change twelve dollars. After some back and forth I had to leave this dump together with only 12 dollars. Perform yourself the favor together with go to apple standard bank if you need to use the lieu brewing system. Save yourself a good headache.

Review

Took my children for endroit exchange to help dollars. After we became the invoice from the device, we all went to a nice teller to get funds. She presented my kids money. She also speak to them about school and stuff. She gave them lots of gift coming from TD bank. My children keep wanting to know me if can we go there once again. Great customer service.

TD Bank, 10458

640 E Fordham Rd New York, NY 10458

Review

My spouse and i gone in there to pay my Car finance. Angela, one of the distributors the fact that sat in the desk was genuinely heedful to me personally. She named in the Personal loan core for me. The director Henry was likewise seriously informative. I never ever seriously had a challenge along with this part. Whether in the drive via or even inside, Im commonly at & out. Very good branch

Review

Theres a nice sized parking lot & drive thru. their right off Fordham. Typically the teller was really fine. No grievances this period

Review

If leaving no megastars was possible; My spouse and i completely might. I went throughout continue Friday, 11/8 to opened a whole new joint account. (Let's consider I at the moment currently have an acct with them and have had that for about 3-4years) We was welcome when My partner and i walked in which had been decent but as We proceeded to recommend all of them I desired to open a new account for my own spouse and I, also bringing up We already acquired an in service account having them. The woman offered my partner and I actually a very odd look and mentioned she had in order to talk ready manager; the woman then returned and informed me I could not be helped and should visit one other branch. I EXTREMELY truly feel I was discriminated against due to our appearance along with my spouses. I will by no means throughout my life be coming back again to this particular branch position and will be data a complaint of discrimination against the woman who put us away.

Overview

I sluggish program. Staff don't appear to care that right now there always a large line. A few are very unpleasant. Unhappy that I bank below. What good is all the advertising if the staff are certainly not maintaining the particular quality of service a person pleasure yourself in your own commercials. Unpleasant service.

Review

Where carry out I start? Impolite employees. Slow service. My spouse and i silently laid 45 minutes on a new series to make the simple deposit and even right now there were only 7 customers on the line!!!! SMH!!! Never coming back to this branch!!!

Review

My spouse and i used the gold coin games TD bank is offering in addition to was very frustrated. Intended for several years Everyday following work My spouse and i put loose coins into our gift basket and after thanksgiving we all often exchange it. Similar to a additional christmas financial savings. We often count it before the exchange. My kids love it. To cut to be able to chase we've ended keeping track of this calendar year with a good minor above $320. 00 within coins. When we exchanged that the machine stated to be able to keep placing coins although TD rep replace coin bag. Now i'm guessing that was full. In late rely, we only possessed some sort of shocking $181. 68. We have explained to the associate. that there was a shortage of above $140. 00. She has been shopping at me as in case I got trying to con the bank beyond money(which My spouse and i could understand) nonetheless not necessarily to say I had been comfortable. Her explanation had not been helpful at all. The woman only asked that We leave my own contact information and that when there had been an overage that they can give me a call. We only hope that they carry out right & that will his or her integrity speaks with regard to it self applied. Karma. To some people $140 will be not a lot of money but it's good deal to others. Really the basic principle. I actually hope they fix that issue because I may only imagine the volume of money that's not necessarily provided to the customers via this "COIN ARCADE".

- TD Bank Columbia - TD Bank Brooklyn - TD Bank - TD Bank MO - TD Bank SC

#TD Bank #TD Bank Locations #TD Bank Near Me #TD Bank Hours #Banks

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sohaveyoubeento-blog · 5 years

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V is for Vietnamese & Vintage

Us three ladies had always played it pretty safe by way of our lunch dates. Not to say the local deli isn't absolutely kick ass - it's very tasty and very enjoyable every time we go, but in much the same way as I struggle to go to the same country more than once on my holidays (excluding India, you can never have enough India) I couldn't help but think that life's a bit too short to sit in the same eatery every time we meet for lunch, given that the whole day is ours, and within reason, travel is no issue.

The three of us decided that we would try different cuisines every week, and with the girls (Laura and Dani) living in the quieter, leafier suburbs of Otley and Burley in Wharfedale, with me (Alex) living in what I frequently describe as the bronx, 5 minutes from central Leeds but gloriously populated by some of the best food joints in the country (confirmed) they usually end up meeting at mine and then we go into town to try somewhere a bit off the beaten track. Invariably, being three mums of young children, we eat at the speed of rabid dogs and end up having a bit of time to go explore some local weird shop or two, never anything mainstream like a department store. Oh no. We like vintage shops. You know the type, they smell like damp and the inside of your nan's wardrobe, and we prance around pretending to overlook the fact that we are just in a well laid out, slightly more selective charity shop without the undertone of giving. Usually there's some blue haired student with a headscarf and a faint stench of Bobby Orange pawing through piles of shirts and jumpers that are deemed as retro, when they've actually some of them originated in C&A - we remember that place the first time round,depressingly. The whole vintage scene is a bit ironic and try hard and a bit sad at times, but the one thing that it does offer is the piece you are often looking at, generally is one of one only in the store. The same goes for charity shops, generally. We like stuff that can't be bought in bulk.

Dani owns Deluxe Blooms, and is a luxury faux florist, and very good at it too. Laura is a nail technician and spray tanning afficionado, and the owner of Maibella Nails and Tanning. I own a salon called Lexa Hair, and the three of us work together frequently. The ridiculous thing is though, that work is going really well for us, and while in the past we may have dug around in charity shops for a bargain simply to be economical, now it has begun more of a habit. And you know what they say, old habits die hard. We don't have to eat streetfood on picnic tables anymore, and we can shop anywhere we want, but at least just for me, I don't like extravagance and I'm not impressed by labels or price tags. I like pieces that are unique,with a story behind them. My two accomplices sort of get dragged in to it I think, but they seem on board with most of it. I hope.

And street food is the best food on earth, everyone knows that.

We kicked things off with a visit to a fairly new (maybe a year old I think) Vietnamese place on North Lane in Headingley named VietBaker. Inside it's very wooden looking, quite industrial and urban, stained wood everywhere and dark red leather chairs. It smells like the rice cooker that's chugging away in the corner, mixed with plenty of garlic and of course, the fresh baguettes that are stacked up in a glass cabinet above the front desk.

We opted for a sharing platter for £9, and from the menu us Yorkshire ruffians requested spring rolls (the deep fried ones, not the fresh, healthy ones obviously), prawn toast, and 'rustic chips'.

This was skin on chips with salt and pepper (well cooked and so tasty) and the prawn toast was understandably made of baguette slices. It made for a much heavier slab of prawn toast and therefore an even more unhealthy treat but man alive, was it good. The spring rolls were pork, prawn and the usual crispy vegetables inside. Not floppy or soggy, totally crispy and served with a really light and watery sweet chilli dip that's more sweet than chilli. It was all very lovely.

I've personally eaten from here a number of times and I think the Vietnamese have got it absolutely nailed when they make sandwich. Or a Ban Mih. Laura and I opted for one each, chicken for her and pork for me. Dani went for something off the new part of the menu, the fusion section, which even featured a take on beef bourgignon, Vietnamese style. She tried the Shanghai pork belly, served with rice. Her whole bowl was piled high, and we're not talking a polite, peanuts size bowl. More like a ‘free ceramic crunchy nut cereal box’ bowl, with the with tokens on the back of the pack, that you’d send off as a kid. It was huge. The second bowl was just plain rice, which worked really well as the pork alone was…. alot. It was sticky and tangy and rich and all those other wanky words that just mean amazing. I'm trying so hard to limit the wankiness. I like writing and eating, combining the two is hard work though. Bear with me. The slow cooked pork made me feel a bit gutted I went for a sandwich until I got stuck in.

Vietnam was a former French colony, and much like their neighbour Cambodia, found their local best offerings being bastardised to accomodate the 'local palate'. The nice version is that the baguette was the French's gift to the Vietnamese, although I imagine it was more a case of 'put your lovely meal in my baguette for me or you're in deep shit.'

I've never been to Vietnam but having visited Cambodge a few summers back, I remember being astounded at the gorgeous, light, dairy free Asian cuisine that had been shoved in a crusty, warm baguette. Whoever's story was true, it's the absolute bollocks.

They cut this freshly baked baguette open and spread it with patè on one side and on the other mayonnaise (already weird but hang in there) - add a ton of crispy green leaves, cucumber, pickles, coriander and fresh chilies, and add some meat into what little room is left. Enough meat to give you meat sweats. It. Is. Superb.

The pork was very finely sliced, dark and sticky again (here she goes) and you can bang on a fried egg, too, if you're an absolute wrong un. No thanks.

Laura had the chicken which was a milder flavour but none the less tasty and flavoursome. I noticed Laura pulling bits off her sandwich and delicately chewing away at them, while I picked it up and ate it like I'd been sleeping in the dark arches for the last month. I even had to be asked to wipe my face. Sorry, not sorry. No messing with a Ban Mih. Especially not this one.

The bill was a very respectable £11 a head, and they threw in a free set of spring rolls for us, which was a nice unexpected surprise. The place had a steady flow of traffic, and although wasn't packed, I've been on an evening and I think it's safe to assume that's the bulk of their trade. It was fantastic food, very reasonable and highly recommended. Great staff and great location. We'll be back!

Afterwards we drove for about 3 days to find a parking spot anywhere near Hyde Park, so we could check out the newly (ish) renovated (OK sign replaced and possibly ownership changed) Vintage something or other in Hyde Park.

I forget the name, and if I'm brutally honest I can see why. It's alright, but it used to be alot better. The last time I went in there was alot of very old apothecary style wooden drawer units, some weird taxidermy, and unusual pictures in frames that would look incredible in the lounge. This time there was quite a bit of formica, and some hideously orange stained TV units that I guess in some context would be deemed as cool again.

The music collection seemed to be where the most effort had been made. The clothing was actually quite 'quirky' in the sense that you wouldn't actually wear alot of it, there was a whole department that seemed to have been handed over by the owner of the late knob head Jimmy Saville, shell suit after shell suit in every colour of the rainbow, in that non breathable fabric you'd get a two man tent in. Hideous. Still, there are some absolute finds in there. I would encourage people to bear in mind that these shops have a high stock turnaround and in their uniqueness, and ability to replace items based on sales, any vintage shop can be a complete bag of shite one week and a total gold mine the next. Its the luck of the drawer, I love that about them. That and the fact that we call them vintage shops. The three of us refer to them as shit shops, but potato patato.

I find it depressing that as I mentioned before, alot of the 'retro' stuff is just normal stuff we, in our 30s, encountered in our youth. There was a 'vintage phone' that was £15 and I'm pretty sure my gran has it now. It's literally a BT £10 phone still in argos, but clearly it had lived with a heavy smoker, adding to the aged facade.

Some of it was very authentic, some of it was broken crap, but the general feel of the place is a good one. There is more 70s stuff than anything else which is quite cool, but like I say, stock changes very frequently. Dani bought an oversized T shirt with a University football team logo emblazoned across it, and to be honest I would have too. There was a vast array of university related large varsity based sweaters, some unnecessarily cut in half width ways (why?!!!! Serves no purpose now, you fools) and that's the kind of thing I would have liked to look at. But as I was in charge of a one year old who was bombing around the floor, doubling as a human sweeping brush and coming back with more dust on him than the inside of the V6 after the attic stairs have been tackled, I gave it up as a bad job and put my bank card back away. No spending for mum today. Gutted.

The shop is pretty fabulous, on the whole. They do know how to charge when it comes to furniture, but the clothing is far more reasonable. It's not all one off pieces, a couple of items make an appearance a few times and that kind of ruins it for me, I start picturing some huge factory in China making hideously outdated clothing and leaving them in a damp garage for a few years, chucking a bit of tea down them and wearing the cuffs and collars down, before exporting the newly knackered pieces to us dumbasses in our 'quirky vintage shops'. Who knows. It's well laid out, and pretty cool, and although not my favourite, I imagine the next time I go it'll be a whole different experience. Swings and roundabouts with these places. It was an interesting look, and if Parker hadn't been doing his best ferret impression I would have definitely bought a jumper. Well worth a look.

Until next week!

Laura, Dani and Alex X

VietBaker, Headingley

https://www.thevietbaker.co.uk

Vintage Boutique, Hyde Park

https://vintageboutique.com

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blouisparadise · 6 years

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Upon request, here is a list of very smutty bottom Louis fics. For this list, we chose fics that are mainly more graphic smut (like PWP fics) or fics that have many graphic smut scenes. Happy reading!

1) Lips Are Like The Galaxy’s Edge | Explicit | 2360 words

Harry licks over Louis’ hole slowly, deliberately, and his tongue is like velvet and Louis’ skin is burning at every junction where Harry touches him and it’s all so good he thinks he might cry. He licks a few more times, moaning softly like he’s relishing the taste of Louis and that’s just, well, fuck.

2) Louder Louder | Explicit | 2931 words

There’s really only one way to get Louis out of a mood this terrible, and Harry is prepared to sacrifice his entire evening if necessary.

3) Handprints And Good Grips | Explicit | 3330 words

Harry wants to pull them down and suck him off. Harry wants to never take them off and eat him out over the lace. Harry wants to push them aside and fuck the imprint right into Louis’ body.

4) Painless With Immense Distance | Not Rated | 3793 words

“You know when we talked about kinks and stuff awhile back and you said you wanted to try something?” Harry continues with a devious grin. Louis’s a bit lost and he tries to think about exactly what Harry is thinking about which honestly could be a handful of things.

“Prostate massage?” Harry asks like it’s as common as the sky is blue.

5) A Touch Of Your Love | Explicit | 3856 words

Harry needs to work out. Louis wants him to pay attention to him. They find a compromise.

6) Lagrangian Point | Explicit | 4055 words

They find each other again the night of Valentine’s Day.

7) Feel The Need | Explicit | 4898 words

Louis and Harry attend Liam’s Halloween party. Risky Business ensues.

8) Hook’s Intention | Explicit | 5156 words

Harry hadn’t realized what, exactly, being the Captain Hook to Louis’ Peter Pan would entail.

9) Power Inside | Explicit | 5861 words

Louis wrinkles his nose and pokes Harry again. “You want a baby,” he repeats.

Again, Harry frowns. “Uh, yeah, Lou, I want a baby. So do you.”

Where is this even going. Harry honestly has no clue.

Abruptly, Louis stops frowning and practically throws himself off of Harry, splaying himself out on his side of the bed, arms spread wide. “Okay. Let’s make a baby, then.”

Can eyebrows get permanently attached to a hairline? Harry has a feeling he’s going to find out. “You do realize - ” he starts.

“Yes, Harry, I realize,” Louis says, stroking his fingers over the inside of his own thigh, ruking his shorts up. “You gonna shut up about it and give me a baby or am I gonna have to go out and find someone else to fulfill my deepest desires?”

He’s a nutjob. He’s a complete nutjob. Harry’s in love with a complete nutjob.

10) Throw Me In The Deep End | Mature | 5914 words

The one where Harry is a very ferocious pirate captain and Louis is a mighty scoundrel in need of some good dicking.

11) Spark A New Flame | Explicit | 6100 words

Louis is nineteen, Harry is twenty-one, and it’s not all that hard to figure out what happens when they both go clubbing.

12) We’ll Stumble Through Heaven | Explicit | 6504 words

Louis likes to be a good boy for his alpha.

13) You Drive Me Wild (You Know You Do) | Explicit | 6632 words

Louis flirts with the Australian interviewers and Harry gets possessive.

14) Call Me Shallow But I’m Only Getting Deeper | Explicit | 7367 words

The one where Louis is a brat so Harry spanks him with a riding crop.

“This,” says Louis, holding up a shirt from the box, “is the ugliest fucking shirt I’ve ever seen.”

16) Give It Up To Me | Explicit | 8134 words

"You're going to end up making me come with all the boys in our lounge," he finished, his tone softening the longer he spoke. "And?" Harry murmured, placing his palm over the crevice of Louis' arse, keeping the plug nice and tight inside of him. "What if I wanted you to?"

17) Love To Make Him Moan | Explicit | 8106 words

They fuck like they’re sex starved, when they’re really, really not.

18) Makes Perfect | Explicit | 8610 words

“What if you practiced on like, a mannequin?” Louis presses. “Or one of those blow up sex dolls? Or even just like, I don’t know, a pillow or something. Whatever it’d fit around.”

Harry tilts his head thoughtfully, curls catching the light so entrancingly that Louis finds himself reaching up to push his fingers through them. “It’s different, though, innit? When it’s a real person. A pillow won’t snog me.”

“Why should it?” says Louis. “You can’t even take its bra off.”

19) Let The Beating Waves Come Drag Me Down | Explicit | 9947 words

“Just try it, the worst thing that could ever happen it’s that you won’t like it” Niall had told him. And there he was, on the way to one of these pubs created for perverts, willing to break up the routine to try something new, something that terrified as much as excited him. One night to get swept up in passion, one night to let the devil get in. "Tonight, I’m going to make you scream of ecstasy Louis,” he said with a raspy voice full of control, making him tremble with anticipation.

20) Anything Goes | Explicit | 10275 words

Harry probably shouldn't be amused that Louis has a death grip on his hand and is dragging away from an event that, you know, they should be at. And he still probably shouldn't have that god awful smirk plastered to his face when Louis shoves him into the bathroom and steps in before locking the door.

21) Bite | Explicit | 10980 words

Louis is a vampire hunter, and Harry is too happy being his prey.

22) The Sweat On Your Skin | Explicit | 11014 words

Louis is certain there’s no better way to come down from a post-gym high than a naked romp in the bed with his favorite workout partner.

23) Gnossiene | Explicit | 11276 words

Louis sets a challenge for himself; it gets a bit out of hand.

24) Can’t Blame Gravity | Explicit | 11931 words

Note: Mentions of bottom Harry.

That time in 2015, when Harry went MIA around Louis’ birthday.

25) Let’s Take the World By Storm | Explicit | 14656 words

Harry lifts his head off Louis’ chest to look at Louis’ face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, but our sex life feels a bit boring, ‘sall,” Louis says, completely avoiding eye contact.

“Boring.” Harry says flatly. He doesn’t say anything more, and Louis looks up to see that Harry seems to be mulling it over.

“Yeah, boring,“ Louis says, and keeps talking before Harry can pipe up. “I mean, think about it. We’ve been dating since X Factor, and now things are starting to drag a bit. We don’t even have the time for handjobs anymore, much less actual sex.”

26) The Seed Inside You, Baby, Do You Feel It Growin’ | Explicit | 14793 words

Louis really wants Harry to get him pregnant.

27) Fumbling in the Dark | Explicit | 21599 words

Louis is straight, Harry is not. They still shag a lot.

28) Another Day Gettin’ Into Trouble | Explicit | 25619 words

Harry’s drunk when the idea occurs to him. He’s also a pop star, so sometimes his drunk ideas turn into actual things instead of just ideas. The clone-a-willy kit is one of them.

In Harry’s defense, when he first thinks about it his intention is just to buy the kit and give it to Louis to make his own dildo with, because that’s what he wants anyway, right? To have a penis filling him up?

Then he realizes that it would be weird if Louis made a copy of his own dick to fuck himself with. It’d be super weird. Louis fucking himself? That’s a weird idea. Harry’s pretty sure Louis wouldn’t like that.

Clearly the only solution here is to use his own dick for the mold.

29) Nicotine | Explicit | 32345 words

“We’re two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we’d never date.” Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.

30) Who Would’ve Thought | Explicit | 44275 words | Companion fic

The idea doesn’t come to Louis until they’ve been at the bungalow for a couple of days. Harry has no idea that he’s going to pop a knot. He’s been living his life with the expectation that he’s going to be a beta, and Louis isn’t going to tell him otherwise.

Louis is an omega, though, and most omegas want to be filled up with a knot, fucked the way their bodies are made to be fucked, and Louis is no different. In ten years he wants to have an alpha waiting for him at home who will hold him down and fuck him exactly the way Louis wants to be fucked without worrying that they’re going to expect him to stay at home, open a joint bank account, raise a litter of babies, cook and clean and, most importantly, be submissive. For that to happen Louis needs an entirely different kind of alpha.

And so the plan is born.

31) Pinkies Never Lie | Explicit | 83616 words

AU in which Louis hates his job and loves Harry, Harry just wants a distraction, everyone else wants them to get their shit together, and Louis learns the hard way that new beginnings are only possible when something ends.

32) Swim In The Smoke | Explicit | 101778 words

“What about this, Captain?” Liam asks, nudging the boy kneeling between their feet with the toe of his boot. The boy hisses and swipes at him, slurring out something unintelligible around the makeshift gag Niall had to stuff in his mouth. He misses by a mile and tries again, just as ineffectively.

Harry looks down at him, at the way the sun streams over his face and shoulders, at the way the gag stretches his mouth, lips pink and chapped. He’s lithe and pretty, smudged all over with dirt. They had found him tied up below deck, mostly unconscious, next to a barrel full of gold. He’s clearly a prisoner, but there’s something familiar about him, something that niggles at Harry’s brain. Something he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Put him in my cabin,” Harry decides, turning back to deal with the rest of the loot. The boys screams out jumbled curse words at Harry’s back, muffled by the gag, and Harry can’t understand any of it.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#fic recs #blp #blp fic recs #bottom louis #top harry #super smutty #larry

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ddaenghoney · 6 years

Text

SERIES: HALLOWEEN BETWEEN MIDNIGHTS

Chapter 12.2

On October 1st, you attend a Halloween party in an abandoned house rented by some friends. As scary as the idea of cult owners is, nothing could have prepared you and BTS(regular people) for the mayhem and terror that follows until October 31st.

This is an INTERACTIVE fic. At the end of each part, readers will be able to vote to decide what happens next. Analyze everything(except the time) carefully. Choices decide romance, friendship, and deaths; and yes, ANYONE can die.

In other words, please read at your own risk; anything goes in this story.

Start here | Previous part | Next part

Following a long sleep in two clumps squished into your small bed, you eventually got back into the groove. Scribbling some notes on the margin of a scholarly article you needed to read for the next day, you largely ignored Yoongi who stayed curled on the corner of your bed. His hands scrolled through whatever he found on his phone to entertain him, yawning a couple of times due mostly to the many tiny waffles you both consumed when you woke up around noon.

“Are you going to do anything productive?” You teased, rolling back on your chair to watch as Yoongi only pouted his lips.

“If I’m alive then my body is being productive on its own.” You ignored the growing smirk on his face due to you rolling your eyes. Tossing your pen to the tiny shelf of the desk, you went to hop your knees into the plush beside him,

“What are you looking at? Cures for being the worst-”

“Nothing, loser,” He held his phone away from your playfully grabbing hands, using one of his own to grab your wrist, “It’s a secret.” You ceased, an eyebrow rising to acknowledge the words with skepticism, “You look intimidating,” He smiled, holding your hand against his chest when you lightly pat against him, “It’s nothing illegal.”

“Next thing I know you’re involved in a bank heist.” You giggled, trying barely to tug your hand away, but he held it in place. Eyes moved contemplatively around the room, a smile growing,

“How’d you find out?” You shook your head at his dry done, and contrastingly warm smile,

“Give me my hand back, nerd.”

“If we do something, I’m getting bored.” He began, whining towards the last phrase as his head fell back against your pillow. His hand contained yours against his chest.

“I wanted to go check up on Jimin, actually.” You admitted, beginning to prod against his chest by use of your trapped fingers. A smile blossomed as he released your smaller appendage with a quick jerk from the tickling sensation. “Want to tag along?”

“I was going to go see him later actually,” Yoongi say upright, eyebrows knitting in consideration. “I was gonna go on my own though.”

“Oh, because you hate me; I get it.” You sighed dramatically, jerking when he poked his finger into a ticklish spot on your side.

“No, angel.” He chuckled, as your hands defensively moved as little shields in case of more prodding. “No, we can go together.”

Jeongguk’s arm slumped onto the wooden desk, sneakers tapping at a slow pace just as a means to stay awake. Taehyung in the chair beside him, scribbled nothing in particular against a blank leaf of his notebook. Jeongguk yawned, trying to make out what it was the image intended to be,

“Did you even sleep at all when we got back?”

“Not really,” He murmured, fixated on what seemed to be a flower maybe, “You?”

“In and out, but not longer for an hour probably.” Jeongguk watched Hoseok walk in from the far door, his hoodie slung up over his head and no doubt wishing he too was asleep at his dorm. “You need to figure out a way to sleep though, dude. You haven’t really in the past two days now.”

“Yeah, well,” His voice trailed off, avoiding the conversation, though he wished it hadn’t been Hoseok who came over to properly change the topic.

“You guys holding up okay? This is both of your last class too, right?”

“Yeah, luckily enough.” Jeongguk rolled the joint of his neck around, trying anything for blood to stimulate better and keep himself awake. Taehyung continued drawing, then turned the page to scribble down the date and the class name.

“You know,” Hoseok sighed, hands tucked deep into the pouch of his hoodie, “I didn’t cheat on her, and we really didn’t have a huge fallout. I don’t know why you’re so mad at me still.”

“You still made her really sad.” Taehyung didn’t even glance up, “And besides now that you’re done with your rebound you just want to go back to her.”

“There wasn’t a rebound, Taehyung. Did Y/N even tell you why we broke up?” Taehyung looked up at him, eyes narrowing.

“We’re all sleep-deprived,” Jeongguk intervened, a hand ghosting atop of Taehyung’s tensed shoulder. “Let’s not talk to each other when we’re so annoyed about the sleep thing, okay?”

“Is she feeling okay though?” The question went towards Jeongguk, as Hoseok disregarded the sigh Taehyung exhaled before going back to his notebook. “Jimin’s doing alright, I went by to see him earlier.”

“Yeah, she’s ditching classes today with Yoongi.” He nodded, gesturing his neck to the free space beside him, “So just taking it easy.”

“I haven’t seen Yoongi in our Music Theory lecture in over a week now.” Hoseok laid his backpack on the desk, moving around to take a seat.

“He’s thinking about dropping out.” Taehyung spoke up, relaxing back against his seat, “Not sure why though.”

“Hopefully it’s just for a semester or something. He’s really close to getting a master’s.”

Jimin grinned pulling the door to his room wider as you ushered yourself in, a bag of food in hand. Hugging onto you, Jimin spoke up excitedly,

“First Hobi and now you. IT’s great my friends love me so much.” Yoongi rolled his eyes, smiling despite himself as he shut the door on the way in.

“Wait, if he got you food then I’m going to eat this-” You grinned as he snatched away the bag, sitting down on his bed criss-cross.

“I’ll share the fries with you?” He offered, looking up with eyes pleading to keep most of it. Shrugging, you just took the space beside him,

“No, you can eat all of it. I’m stuffed on waffles.” You repressed a chuckle as Yoongi heaved himself into the desk chair, rubbing his still full stomach with an unnecessary sigh. “You’re doing alright though?”

“Yeah, since Yoongi went to go and get you all to come rescue me.” He ate two fries at a time, not noticing the immediate frown overtaking Yoongi’s expression. You looked over at him, also confused by the words. Jimin caught onto the lack of replies, and glanced between the two of you, “Is that not what happened after you left the house?” “I thought you said you didn’t go to the party.” You frowned. Yoongi’s head shook,

“I didn’t, I mean.” He paused scanning through the dents in his memory, “I don’t think I did.”

“You texted me though.” Jimin disregarded the bag of food to the side, watching Yoongi reach into his pocket for his phone. “Up until that guy found me hiding. We were texting each other.” Yoongi further frowned, frustrated that there were a string of texts in his phone he didn’t remember typing in, but now that he stared at them he somehow felt similar emotions that would be attached to the memory. He held the phone to Jimin, not minding that you peeked over his shoulder to also take a look.

“Those ones at the bottom,” Jimin swallowed, biting his lip at the texts sent from his phone, “I didn’t type those about meeting up with you to escape… That guy must have.” He rolled up further, nodding as he found familiarity in earlier texts, “But yeah. We were talking about you coming to the party. I’m glad you took whatever way you did to escape, otherwise you could’ve ended up in the same state as me down there.”

You gripped tighter onto your leggings with the discussion. Wishing this could’ve ended last night, you sighed and looked towards Yoongi who was staring towards his shoes. Focused. “You can’t remember,” You paused at the idea. “Any of it?”

“It was traumatic-- maybe you suppressed it-”

“No,” Yoongi reached up to rub his head, lips tightening into a line as he thought longer. “I remember. Now that I’m thinking about it more. I remember running out through the front, and I saw an owl-” He glanced towards you wondering if it was the same one you kept mentioning. “But after that-- after I kept running, I don’t know what happened. I just went home, but I don’t know why.”

Stepping away from the disperse of students leaving the building, Jeongguk mumbled something about hating the homework assignment, then stretched out his arms, “Should we go get lunch or something?”

“Nah,” Taehyung shook his head gently, sliding his phone back into his pocket, “I have some stuff to go do. I’ll try and meet with you later to study, or something.” Jeongguk raised an eyebrow at the evasion, but nonetheless gave a small wave before Taehyung began walking away. Eventually exhaling from the amount of weirdness that has gone on, he decided it was probably just everyone trying to get back to normal.

“I’m kind of worried about him.” Hoseok walked from the base of the stairs, glancing to Taehyung’s back as he dipped around a building out of sight. “He was really weird yesterday.”

“How so?” Jeongguk’s neck turned towards him quickly, “I mean we all were.” He added after a second thought. Hoseok only shrugged,

“I don’t know he just seemed different after the party. Maybe I’m reading into it too much though.” He reached for his water bottle, seemingly casual about the discussion, “Well anyways, I was gonna meet up with Namjoon and Seokjin. They’re gonna look at a video of the first seance. Did you want to tag along?”

feel free to send me comments, predictions, thoughts, etc. uwu

#bts #bts imagines #bts fake texts #bts supernatural #bts suspense #bts thriller #bts horror #bts x reader #all #series halloween between midnights

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iwritethat · 6 years

Text

UnreQUITed - Part 2

Request: Would you be willing to write a part two of "UnreQUITed"? If you're not too busy with other requests? I'd greatly appreciate it, thank you so much!

Could you please do a part two to unreQUITed? It was so good! ❤️

Part 2 requests in general tbh

A/N: Here it is and I doubt it’s what you all were expecting... 😭

>>>>——————————>

~ Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~

Disappearing was probably the best decision you'd ever made, you'd returned to your roots - the heartless nature that made you once again assassin material. Although, you were not exactly in that line of work since you'd sworn off of killing for Dick Grayson long ago.

It wasn't that bad, with the amount of money you earn from gathering intel and obtaining certain items for your previous wealthy clientele, it was easy to maintain a luxurious lifestyle whilst on the run.

As expected, it would soon come to an end with the passing months but never did you imagine you'd be working a weapons merchant when it happened.

In your defence, you were there to retrieve the priceless stolen pistol of your client, one that had diamond encrusted detailing, used silver bullets and was the colour of silky ivory. As a result of its unique beauty, said arms dealer kept it on his person as a display of power - you were basically his right hand/resident charmer.

The meeting was interrupted when a set of crimson arrows soared through the air striking down his men with miraculous precision - however, due to your amplified reflexes you effortlessly caught the one targeting your heart. Not that you had one anymore.

Since the place was being raided anyway, you gave a tired sigh when knocking out your boss, his body falling to unconsciousness on the cold tile of the office whilst you apprehended the pistol. Just then, a henchmen flung through the door followed by his attacker who appeared to be wearing a red - oh no.

"(Y-y/n)?! You're alright and here?! Fuck I missed you!" This was weird, Jason immediately disarmed and embraced your confused form. The gesture was loving and kind, one that showed he truly did care and you almost felt guilty for not bidding adios to him personally.

"I- Jay I didn't..."

"And Hell nice suit/dress."

"Haha, do I look good?"

"You always look good. What are you doing here anyway - and why are you stealing my thunder?" The Red Hood crossed his arms expectantly, waiting for your answer.

"Ah, I'm working." A simple but honest statement on your part.

"Working - please tell me it's nothing bad I should worry about and fight you over? Also, that why you taking his gun?"

"Wow, don't you trust me Jason? I know I've been gone a while but I used to be your go to if I wasn't with your brother. Anyways, gotta go." You claimed, edging around him rather smoothly before disappearing into the night.

You weren't stupid, he was probably tracking you now because Jason hated losing people and he'd be damned if he let you vanish again. So later that night you sat casually atop a rooftop overlooking your city of the week in normal attire simply awaiting his arrival and moping about your awkward client. Your confederate had been travelling and now the new drop off point was freaking Gotham - it could be worse, it could be Blüdhaven.

A fleck of shimmering ambers filled your peripheral vision and displayed a smiling Kori and dangling Roy.

"(Y/n)! It's been so long dear friend."

"Wait?! This is (Y/n)?! The lackey that caught my arrow - damn Dick used to talk about you all the time. I can see why Jason mentioned you on a few occasions too." Roy cockily saluted in greeting once marvelling at who your actually were.

"Yeah yeah Harper you finally met (Y/n) (L/n), good for you. You knew I was coming huh?" Jason's voice mocked from behind you, accompanying his heavy footsteps.

"What a guess, I'm glad you've learnt something in my absence. Now how can I help you Outlaws?" Your response was sarcastic but playful.

"Actually I wanted you to join us, my answer is yes albeit late."

You clicked your tongue, and shook your head dismissively. "You didn't need me then Jason, so you don't need me now. Besides I'm better off on my own, if I run with you and Dick finds out we'll both be in trouble - only unlike you I can't be around him."

"At least come back to Gotham with me and catch up a bit? You didn't only leave your beloved Dickiebird behind y'know." Jason’s words were kind of a low blow but suited to the man they originated from.

"Okay, I owe you that." You punched the cocky anti hero in the shoulder and you had a meeting there anyway, 20% extra pay due to the change in location of your client.

~~~

Gotham City. It was strange being back to be honest and you had no intention of sticking around once you'd hit the drop off. The first thing on your checklist, as soon as you'd split from the Outlaws upon arrival, was meeting your client and returning his expensive lost artefact meanwhile attaining a large sum in your bank account. However, it seemed as one door closes, many more open thanks to the contacts your client has on hand. You weren’t the only renegade he knew and it seemed this job was most likely a set up judging by your clients chosen company.

"Ah, it's been a while (Y/n) (L/n)." That voice, it sent shivers down your spine, it was unmistakeable - one whose orders you mindlessly obliged by for many years until Dick saved you.

"It has. And I'd prefer it to be longer, good ridence." You didn't even bother turning to face him, hand waving in dismissal.

"What would your little birdie think of that behaviour? In fact I've heard you aren't fighting together anymore - what's a Nightwing without his heart hm? Now if you comply again, we won't have to find out will we?" The arrogant figure knew he'd struck a nerve as soon as you'd froze at the mention of a repressed ally. He had your high class skills hostage now, because even if you didn't love him, how could you let anyone lay a finger on Dick Grayson?

~~~

Clad in civilian attire, you propped yourself against the wall, a majority of your weight leaning on your back and foot kicked up on the bricks. Jason Todd emerged from the take away joint soon after, tossing a paper bag in your direction that shattered your dwelling on that recent but haunting memory. You gave him a questioning look once peering inside.

"How'd you know my favourite order?"

"Dick knew, I found out from him."

"Does he know?! That I'm here in Gotham? With you?"

"Nah, give me some credit doll."

"Don't call me that, anyway how've you been?" You began a nostalgic conversation, old memories and past experiences retold like a towns fable that kept you occupied until your food was tossed.

A melodious laugh escaped your lips, recalling one of your adventures.

"Miami was the best, this lovely woman tried- oh nooo..." As well as your speech, your body short circuited too when taking in the glimpse of raven hair and blue eyes, you'd have been fine if it wasn't so recognisable.

Jason suspiciously gazed in your line of sight and mentally facepalmed, he should've known that the Gods or Demons would've tried to bring you together again. Thankfully, Dick's attention was solely focused on Damian and before he could process what was happening you'd dragged Jason into the nearest alley and pinned him to the wall with a hand covering his mouth. Jason cocked a brow, removing your hand with a 'seriously?' look crossing his features but alas, your eyes were trained on his brother.

"Hey, relax. Focus on me instead or better yet getting out of this?"

"He's right there. I could go straight up and say hi, tell him that I've missed him... I could do that."

“I know, and in the interest of that promise you forced on me, the keeping you un-lovestruck one, you better forgive me for this.” The vigilante ensured your presence by wrapping his arms around your waist, closing the distance between you which now had your full attention since you couldn’t get away.

“Restraining me? Guess I should be thanking you huh.” You sighed hopelessly, cursing at Cupid for ever concocting his dysfunctional theory of love.

“Todd, thought we saw you run.” Damian called, his tone doubling as a warning. Of course the Wayne recognised you and wanted nothing more than to welcome you home but knew how you felt about Dick. It was best to leave matters for now instead attempting to delay his eldest sibling.

Internally you were freaking out, but you knew the youngest well enough to understand the hidden meaning - he was giving you time. He intentionally made an appearance before Dick could catch Jason, you didn’t have long but hopefully the shadowy uneven lighting of the alleyway would aid your concealment.

Hearing the fast approaching footsteps, you turned away from the alley entrance desperately praying that he wouldn’t recognise the back of your head as you shifted further into Jason’s touch. However, Jason was the quick thinking one, moving to capture your lips with his own, at first you were surprised but melted into it - people avoid PDA, it should encourage them to leave sooner.

“Damian, you could’ve waited you know. Huh hey I knew it was you Jay, and your partner...?” Dick Grayson, oh boy he was still amazing.

You clenched Jason’s leather jacket, palms sweating from the mere ripples of the lost tone as you pulled away from him. You’d hoped you’d forget his kind voice, the way it gently tugged at your heartstrings in a charming manner that always sped up your heartbeat, the way it sounded like a melody and was capable of reanimating the past memories you’d spent hearing it, how well it fitted into your life and fuelled your heart. As much as your love begged you, you couldn’t look at him and show your face or else he’d know instantaneously.

“Thanks for interrupting, whatcha want?” Jason casually stated, running a hand almost gingerly down your side.

“это личные дела, моя любовь. [[These are private matters my love.]]” Now the Russian accent was perfection and the language was fluent, convincing enough to be believable as you’d only learnt it in your absence meaning it was one less thing Dick could link to your identity. You certainly knew Richard could understand Russian, Jason too so when you felt him uncharacteristically melt, muscles relaxing and heart rate increasing upon hearing your last two words maybe he misheard?

“I’ll catch up with you both later but I’m on business right now.” Jason carefully informed them, sending a wink to his brothers signifying it was vigilante related and that was enough for them. With nods and goodbyes they were gone.

“My love? (Y/n), you learnt Russian?!” Jason asked breathlessly once they’d disappeared, however instead of being met with your usual blissful smile you were briskly removing sparkling tears.

You took a step back, trying to focus on anything else - a flare of disappointment sparked within you, you’d wholeheartedly believed you were over the mesmerising acrobat but that was easier to argue when not in his drawing presence as you’d recently learnt. Jason could only give you a sympathetic look as you built up your walls again, apparently weaker than you thought.

“They probably thought I was a Russian drug lord.” You forced laughter and a smug smile as the situation was amusing, but barely managing it through your silent sobs over Grayson.

“You’d make a good drug dealer.” The male in front of you automatically comforted, compliments always came easy with you no matter how distorted they were.

“Ahem, anyway thanks for the food but I should go back to my hotel. The quicker I leave Gotham the better.” It didn’t take long for you to fix yourself, saluting Jason who had offered to walk you back to your hotel.

The stroll provided time to say goodbye, as much as you weren’t expecting it he told you to keep in contact this time.

It was nice actually, to know they still cared about you even now and after your first disappearance. The thought put a warm flutter in the pit of your stomach, however that soon dispersed as you reached your bed. On it was a pristine box decorated with a matte black bow; one you hesitantly untied and begrudgingly opened.

The noir silk cascaded to the floor once you lay your eyes on its familiar contents, shades of the amber and black armor withholding your attention span. The suit was accompanied by a mocking note of your last encounter, the inscription ringing of that dark voice you never wanted to hear again as you read over it in your mind tenfold with blood pulsating at an unfathomable pace - it was like you could feel every cell throbbingly reject the so called ‘gift’. But after encountering him amidst the pistol exchange, the threat he’d made rang strong.

‘Welcome back, “моя любовь” was it? ~ Slade Wilson.’

#dick grayson #jason todd #nightwing #red hood #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #dc #dc imagine #batfam #slade wilson #deathstroke #UnreQUITed

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barrysjumpsuit · 4 years

Text

blindsided - oc x rafe cameron (ch. 2)

me??? posting chapters two days in a row???? (who is she)

part one

word count: 3k

warnings: abuse and mentions of past abuse, cannabis use, cocaine use, mentions of sex, plot/timing holes (just dont think abt canon too much it’s pretty loose)

synopsis: christy is a lifelong resident of the outer banks. after a series of hookups with rafe cameron, kook royalty, she’s smitten. what she doesn’t know is about what her boyfriend and brother are involved in behind her back

a/n: really enjoying how this is coming along bc i’m totally just making it up as i go. ya boy jj makes an appearance in this one!! and BARRY!!!! next chapter has more plot i PROMISE

--------

The sun was about to set as Christy arrived home.

“Home” was a relative term. She lived in a trailer with a leaky roof, messy yard, and weird smell. Strange people she didn’t know were always there, and it was hard to truly feel at peace when she was there. The only thing that kept her coming back, especially after getting with Rafe, was her brother.

Barry truly was the only thing she had left. The two of them had always been as thick as thieves – they still were, but their own respective businesses had changed them. Christy just grew and sold a bit of weed. She made a couple hundred bucks here and there, mostly targeting tourists. Barry’s dealings were much more illegal, and all the bad things that came with selling blow naturally happened at her house.

She could hear the crackling of a fire as she rounded the corner of the trailer. Barry and a couple others sat there, whooping and hollering. “Look who finally decided to make an appearance,” she heard her brother yell. He raised a beer in the air as if to make a toast. “My favorite sister!”

“Just making sure you’re not twitched out somewhere, B,” Christy said back, not altering her path to the door. Right as she went to pull open the screen door, someone pushed it open, stumbling out of the trailer. “Excuse you.”

“Watch your mouth when you speak to me, little girl,” the man growled at her.

“I’m the one who lives here,” Christy replied flatly, not budging, and the man suddenly had her pinned to the wall of the trailer, a forearm pressing against her throat.

“Yo Luke, lay off of her!” she heard Barry call. Her hands were grabbing at Luke Maybank’s arm, her eyes forced to meet his. His pupils were blown up and delirious. “What the fuck, man!”

Barry pried Luke off of her, and Christy leaned against the cheap railing on the front steps to catch her breath. “Get the fuck out of here,” she heard Barry tell him before he turned to her. “Bro, you good? Where have you been the past few days?”

“I’m fine,” Christy said. Her heart felt like it was going to beat through her chest. Barry reached out to grab her shoulder, but she instinctively flinched away. “I’ve been staying with someone.”

She was aware of Barry watching her as she pulled open the screen door and went into the trailer. It was hot and stuffy. Inevitably, somewhere, something was growing mold, and they would have to deal with it like they had to almost every other time a storm knocked out power. It made her feel guilty as hell, knowing she was staying with Rafe in his kook mansion, while her brother was stuck here, alone, with whatever coked out friends he had with him.

After deciding there was nothing she wanted to eat, Christy made her way through the messy living room and down the hallway to her bedroom. She kept the door locked. Fishing the key out of her back pocket, she unlocked the padlock and stepped into her bedroom.

Her plants were moved hastily in front of her window, since the power knocked out the lights they normally sat under. They took up most of the space in her bedroom, and they also occupied her parent’s old bedroom. Christy couldn’t be bothered to water them; she just took off her shirt and laid on her bed, sweaty and with nothing to do.

She rolled over, pulling out an already loaded bowl and lighter from her nightstand. Pushing herself up, Christy brought the pipe to her lips and lit up, breathing deeply and bringing the smoke into her lungs. She blew out a thick cloud, almost having to cough. The greens were strong but tasted good. She took another hit, then another, before leaning back and closing her eyes.

It was almost unnerving to think about how quickly she had fallen for Rafe. They sporadically hooked up throughout the past couple years. A lot of times they were each other’s rebound. Other times, it was at parties. Despite being from the Cut, Christy was often welcome at kook parties, going where her brother wouldn’t dare going to move product. She didn’t like having a middle man. Grow, harvest, sell, consume. That’s how she liked her bud to go.

She knew Barry and Rafe had a history. But Barry has beef with a lot of people, and so did Rafe. Christy didn’t side with either. Rafe hadn’t paid Barry enough, failing to hold his end of the deal. But Barry had ripped Rafe off, knowing his family had more than enough money to repay him. It spiralled from there until they fought and beat each other an inch from death. Since then, Rafe had cleaned up his act as well as sobered up, and she hadn’t seen him at her place since. It was better that way. She didn’t have to worry about the crossover between her relationship with him and her relationship with her brother.

Barry was a shitty person. Everyone knew that. He moved more cocaine than anyone else on the island. It was impossible for him to hold onto a relationship for more than a week or two. He had a temper, and a mouth and fists to back it up. Despite this, Christy knew he was her lifeline, and she was his. Whenever they had to run errands or go anywhere on the island, they tried to go together. Safety in numbers.

Both of them had people that hated them.

Barry more so than Christy, but they both had enemies. It was just how the politics of drug dealing worked. Christy mainly targeted tourists, playing her cards smartly. In and out, one and done. She premeasured the bud into $10 bags, or as joints using cigarettes. It was a big hit. At each kegger she went to, she could usually pull two or three hundred bucks.

Christy took another hit before inspecting her pipe. A friend of hers had blown and crafted it for her birthday this past winter. It was a swirling design of pinks, yellows, and oranges. It looked like a sunset; every night, she would smoke on their west-facing dock and watch the sunset.

Except tonight. The sky was dark by the time she made her way outside. Barry was no longer by the fire, which was dying. Two of his buddies were still there, laughing at something funny only to them. Christy walked past them, down the dock and onto their little boat. She sat down next to Barry, their shoulders lightly touching on the small bench seat.

Her mind was still racing, and she lit her bowl again. “You’re not going to that kook party tonight?” Barry asked, his voice still with its disinterested tone.

“Nah. With the power out I’m not sure how much bud I’m going to able to get through this. They need light to grow.”

“I’ve been rotatin’ them in front of the windows for you. And watering them,” Barry said. She could tell he was coming down from a high he had likely been riding all day.��

Christy could also tell he brought this up for a reason.

“How much short are we?” she asked quietly. “I can see if I can pick up extra shifts.”

He shook his head beside her before putting his head in his hands. “I don’t know man, but we’re short. Fuckin’ Agatha fucked us over, man. I can’t get any more for another couple weeks and I don’t have much left.”

“A lot of mine won’t be ready to harvest for a few weeks. Shit, B, why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not like you were here,” he said. His words stung, and I knew he was right. “It’s not like you’re ever here anymore except to smoke pot.”

“Barry,” Christy said, trying to be as stern as possible. “I’ve been working every fucking day. Agatha scared people away, so I’m not making good tips. It’ll bounce back soon, okay? I’ll make ends meet. Every time I come home you’re just blitzed to high heaven off your own product. You’re as guilty as I am.”

Her brother’s shoulders shook with a laugh, and he wiped his nose with a forearm while she took another hit. “I suppose so. You’ve got something on your neck, by the way. Who’s that from?”

Christy stiffened and almost launched into a coughing fit, and Barry knew he caught her. He looked over at her, expecting an answer after she exhaled the smoke. “Some tourist I met the other night at a kegger. Thought he could strike a deal with me.”

“Hmmm,” Barry mused. She couldn’t tell if he was buying it or not. “You’ve gotta be careful with them tourons and kooks, never know how they’re gonna use you.”

The weed had hit her enough so that Barry’s words didn’t fully register in her brain. “They’re always up to something,” she agreed. The swaying of the boat underneath her was an odd feeling and she leaned back in the seat, throwing an arm on the back of the seat behind Barry.

The stars were brilliant on the south side of the island, with no light pollution to drown them out. Two nights ago, she and Rafe sat on the roof of the Cameron house, looking at the same sky, but the lights were so bright you could see only a handful of the stars.

It was the simplicity of being a pogue that Christy liked. She didn’t have to worry about her social life or schedule outside of work. She didn’t have to worry about her image. She didn’t have to worry about businesses or making people happy or petty things that Rafe worried about. She could do what she wanted, when she wanted.

With the sky stretching endlessly above her, she felt like she was inside a dome. Like she was in a snowglobe. Agatha was the shake, mixing everything and everyone up. Now, the snowflakes were settling into new positions. Some were unstable, perched on plastic trees or people or houses, bound to fall to the ground. Some were already on the ground, back to their original positions. Others still, small little pieces of glitter, swirled around in the liquid inside.

She didn’t want to inevitably settle back into her old life. It was too mindless and mundane. Wake up, work at The Wreck, sell weed to tourists, hook up with random people. It was repetitive. Christy wanted something with meaning and risk. What was the view like, perched on top of the tallest tree in the snowglobe? Sure, it had potential to fall back to the ground like all the other pieces of snow. But there was also potential to stay there, seeing things no one else could and experiencing something it hadn’t experienced before.

Maybe Rafe was her tree. Holding her up with supportive branches, his roots deep into the soil of Tannyhill. He was here to stay, at least for now.

Maybe it was Christy’s turn to join him.

By four in the afternoon, Christy was done with her day.

She woke up early, tending to her plants before locking up the two rooms and heading to work. The morning shifts were her favorite. Less asshole tourists and more local residents. Christy knew them well, making polite small talk with the older people and getting plenty of tips. Working at The Wreck was nice. It gave Christy a sense of anonymity, making her feel less like a pogue and more like a normal person. For her work shifts she cleaned up nicely, interacting with people who didn’t know about her relation to Barry or her side hustle.

After Christy clocked out for the afternoon after her ten hour shift, she shouldered her backpack and lazily threw her apron over one shoulder. Under her work clothes she wore her swimsuit, ready for an afternoon of surfing with Rafe and his friends.

Stepping outside into the bright sun, she saw Kiara talking with her friends. Christy liked Kiara – she was one of her closer friends, but their relationship didn’t touch the bond she had with those three boys. Christy was friendly enough with them, and she gave them a wave as she walked past.

“Hey, Christy!”

A voice called out behind her and she turned around to see JJ jog up to her. John B rolled his eyes as he left the group to follow Christy. “Yeah, JJ?” she asked.

“Hey, uh, we’re going to have a kegger at the Boneyard tonight, if you’d like to come. I’d like to do some business with you.”

“How much you want?” Christy asked, ignoring any euphemisms people often use when asking for weed. “You better claim yours now, I’m running low.”

“You and everyone else on the island,” JJ said, smiling. “Five grams?”

“You got it, I can bring it to you tonight.” Christy pulled her cigarette carton from her pocket, taking one out and lighting it. “By the way, tell your father it’s rude to assault people at their own home and my brother doesn’t want to see him again for some time.”

JJ’s face dropped. “What did he do? Did he hurt you?”

She blew out the smoke before answering. “Pinned me against a wall. Nothing that hasn’t happened before, but… B’s stressed out and it won’t be good for either of them or for us if he sees him any time soon.” Christy lowered her voice slightly. “If he needs any blow, let me know and I can be a middle man. Okay?”

“He’s a piece of shit,” JJ muttered, not answering her question.

“JJ,” Christy said sternly, and JJ’s wandering eyes returned to meet hers. “Give him my contact information. I’ll deal with it so you don’t have to. Okay?”

“He’s not your problem,” JJ said, but Christy knew she got through to him as good as she could. “Thanks, Christy. I’ll see you tonight?”

“You got it,” Christy answered, giving him a playful salute with the hand that held her cigarette. At that, they turned away from each other and she started off to where she told Rafe she would meet him to go surfing.

The cigarette gave her a slight buzz. It felt like a warm hug, enveloping her. That little bit of pep was what she needed, coming off an early morning and long shift. Pretty soon, the pavement turned into sand, and she could see several figures ahead holding surf boards.

“How was work, baby?” Rafe asked as she walked up to them. He pulled her into a kiss before she could answer. Christy’s hands rested on his bare shoulders, standing on her tiptoes in the sand to reach his lips.

“It was good,” she replied. “Glad I’m here and not there, though.”

Kelce fake gagged at her words, and Rafe rolled his eyes at him. “Fuck off, Kelce,” Rafe said, kicking sand towards him. Rafe was wearing his sea foam green board shorts, the color glowing against his tanned skin.

“He’s just jealous,” Christy cooed, walking away from Rafe to give Kelce a hug. “It’s okay Kelce, I love you too.”

“Oh wait a second, was that the L word?” Topper asked, breaking Christy and Kelce apart. Topper looked from Christy to Rafe, raising his eyebrows.

Christy looked at Rafe, who jumped in. “Sure was, Top,” he said nonchalantly. “Now can we shut the fuck up and get into the water?”

Kelce gave Christy a confused look at Rafe’s short temper, and Christy just shrugged. They had brought her board, which she left at Rafe’s house. After taking off her clothes, much to the boys’ delight, she slipped the band around her ankle and the four of them started towards the water.

It was a good evening for waves. The water was refreshing, and it was nice to do something normal after Agatha. Rafe’s idea of a date defaulted to a ride on the Druthers, as if to wow her, followed by expensive wine and sex on the boat. It was nice, and she enjoyed it, but Christy had had sex on plenty of boats and it was never her favorite thing.

Surfing with Rafe and his friends was much more up her alley. She was a good surfer, and Rafe knew it. While they were on the water, Topper and Kelce gave him shit for having his ass owned by hers. Christy countered right back, pointing out that she was also owning their asses. It gave her a small victory: something she was better at than the kooks.

They tired quickly, and Christy mentioned the kegger at the Boneyard. “Bring Sarah, it’ll be like a double date,” she told Topper, much to Kelce’s dismay. “And Kelce, look at you. You’re gorgeous, all wet and glistening and half naked. Just stand in the water like that tonight and the girls will be all over you. I’ll make it my personal mission to find you someone.”

The kooks were never one to turn down a party, especially one with easy pickings for both fights and girls. Topper called Sarah while they were walking back to Rafe’s truck; they put their boards in the bed and Christy climbed into the front seat, while Topper and Kelce crammed into the back of the cab.

“She’ll come,” Topper reported. Rafe dropped off Kelce before driving to the Cameron estate.

Topper left to find Sarah, while Rafe took Christy to his bedroom. “Can I shower?” she asked, and he nodded.

The Camerons had hot running water. Another thing she didn’t have on the Cut. It brought up those conflicting emotions again, as she remembered hearing Barry grumble about not being able to shower, which was a very non-Barry thing to complain about. Christy had insisted he use some of the distilled water she had for her plants, but he refused.

She would have to swing back home before the party tonight to get weed, both for JJ and the tourists. Not much was left – she wanted some to keep for herself, but she needed money.

Christy really didn’t want Rafe anywhere near her place.

She just had to hope Barry was out, and that no one was there, or things could get bad.

----

taglist (reply, reblog, or ask to be added!!!) @stargazingstarkey @letsgofullkook @macchiatohno @ampanonyg @hoeforpankow @jjsmentalpolaroids @drewstarkey @obbx-tings @bricksatanakinswindow

#outer banks #rafe cameron #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #drew starkey #rudy pankow #john b routledge #kiara carrera #sarah cameron

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treehoes · 7 years

Text

Tree Bros Oneshot

Word count: 1683 Connor and Evan are hanging out with weed and beer and Evan is a lightweight and a very talkative drunk. (Gay) TW: smoking, weed, alcohol, mentions of depression, anxiety --- "I want to get high. Or drunk. Or both" Evan stated bluntly. Him and his friend, Connor were sitting in Connor's bed, watching tv. "What?" "You know how life fucking sucks? Like really fucking sucks with school and anxiety and depression and all that, well it's being shittier than usual right now and you use weed or alcohol to take the edge off when life is being a bitch, and life is being a bitch so I want something to repress it for a couple hours. It's ok if you don't want to give me anything because they're yours and not mine but I was just wondering and you know what, you don't have to give me anything, it's fine I'll live without it. Sorry for even asking." "No dude it's fine. I got you." He said as he got up from his spot on his bed. He crossed the room to his closet and shuffled through some clothes and boxes until he found what he needed. He pulled a joint, a black lighter, and two bottles of beer. He lit the joint and handed it to Evan along with one of the beers. "Here you go." "Thanks." Evan grabbed it gingerly and brought it to his mouth. He breathed in and started coughing immediately. "That's normal, you'll cough for the first couple hits. Then you'll hopefully get used to it. " "Ok." Silence. "I feel edgy like I'm doing bad things without my mom's knowledge. Do you always feel like a rebel 'cause this is cool. We should go rob a bank or steal an old lady's purse. Something like that!" Evan exclaimed. "I think someone's getting too edgy, do I need to take that away from you?" "No, I'm sorry." "Don't apologize you didn't do anything wrong." "Sorry." "You didn't do anything, if fine!" "Are you sure?" "Yes! I'm 147% sure. Now can you pass the joint?" Evan handed over silently. The two boys sat and drank and smoked and just talked and laughed until everything was gone. Evan was wasted after the one beer and half a joint because he is such lightweight, while Connor was barely tipsy. Evan was giggling in Connor's bed over how funny the wall looked. 'Damn he looks cute,' Connor thought. "Hey Ev, I'm going to the bathroom I'll be right back. Don't leave this room, ok?" Evan, who was now laughing uncontrollably, managed to say an ok through his hysteria. Connor was only gone for two minutes, at the most, but when he came back Evan was sitting on the bed, a different person, as he was yelling at the taller boy. "AH! Who are you? Get out of my room!" He pointed "Ev, I'm Connor, and this is my room." He said slowly crossing over to Evan, trying to assure him that he was ok, but also getting kind of annoyed because this could potentially be a big problem. "This isn't your room you're a liar!" "What the fuck Evan, it's Connor. I was gone for two minutes how'd you forget?" Connor was now standing at the edge of the bed next to Evan, who was sitting as far back from Connor as he could. "You're not Connor you imposter! But woah. You sorta look like him." Evan crawled up to the edge of the bed and cradled his hands around the other boy's face, feeling the features. "What are you doing?" "Touching you." "Why?" "Because you look like my friend Connor." "Oh do I now?" Connor asked, now playing along with Evan's drunken state. "Ya, but you're not as cute as him." Connor blushed, "he's not that cute." "Oh but he is! His hair is long and beautiful and so soft, I could run my hands through it all day. And when he has it up in a bun it's gorgeous and it makes his face look even better, and his face, oh his face. He doesn't smile much, but when he does, there crinkles around his mouth that make his smile ten million times more beautiful. He also has the most amazing eyes. The most beautiful things in the world. I could stare into them for hours but I can't because he'll think I'm weird. But they're a pale blue, kinda like the color of faded jeans or the sky, and the right one has a spot of brown in the corner. I don't think he likes it because whenever it's brought up he gets a little mad, like he never wanted because it makes him the 'kid with the weird eye', but I think it makes him different and unique and beautiful." "What else do you like about him?" Conner egged Evan's drunken rambling on to see what else he'd say about him. "Connor Murphy is nice, and he's getting better and further away from mean secluded Connor, but nobody cares to see that in him, but they still think of him as old Connor and that makes me mad. I just want Connor to be happy because of all the shit he's been through, he deserves it. And Connor is also really funny too! His jokes make me laughs hard, that one time milk shot out of my nose. It really hurt, but it was a really good joke. I think it was about Jared. He's so amazing and he deserves all the love in the world and I love him so much, since the day I met him I felt something for him, but he'll never reciprocate my affections because he's probably straight, and even if he liked boys there are better ones than me, so it's pointless but I can't let go of it. Just don't tell him that I said all this because he might get mad and not want to hang out with me anymore or be my best friend and I don't want that so I'm just going to keep quiet." Connor was flabbergasted. Evan, his crush since forever, his unrequited love, just drunkenly admitted his feelings about him. Connor was blushing so hard, he probably looked like a tomato. "You really do like him huh?" "More than anything." Connor blushed harder than ever, and was probably brighter than a tomato. "Wow. I think he likes you too." "Really! You think?! No way, you're lying." "He told me." "Holy shit." Evan's face glowing with his beautiful, radiant, signature Evan Hansen smile. He couldn't believe it. "Hey, I'm tired, I'm gonna go to bed." Evan laid down on the bed and instantly feel asleep. "Holy fuck." Connor muttered to himself. Evan talks a lot while drunk, but damn, he just admitted his love for Connor freaking Murphy of all people. He looked over at the boy in his bed, his eyes closed and he looked peaceful and adorable. He just wanted to hold him and protect him. Connor put a blanket over Evan's body and crawled into the spot next to him, but leaving space between them, and fell asleep, smiling. The next morning, Evan awoke with a pounding headache, reeking of weed, and no recollection of anything after he started drinking and smoking. It took him a minute to realize where he was, in Connor's room, in Connor's bed, with his arms around Connor. Shit. Did they sleep together? No, they both still had on their clothes. But Evan was holding a sleeping Connor in his arms. What is he suppose to do, take his arms away, and wake up Connor and have to explain that he had his arms around Connor, or does he stay and have to explain why he was holding the other. Evan decided that he'd do neither and pretend to fall back asleep and deal with it later. He was a minute deep into his plan when he sneezed and woke up the boy in his arms. "Sorry," Evan squeaked, unwrapping his arms from the other. "About what, I just woke up." "For waking you and having my arms around you I didn't even know I did it I woke up like that a-" "Evan." "Ya?" "It's fine, don't worry about it." "Are you sure?" "Positive." “100%?” “110% sure.” "Thank you, also, sorry to ask, what happened last night, I don't remember anything." "Don't apologize, but you don't remember anything?" "Nothing, the last thing I remember is taking a hit." "Really?" "Yes! Did I do something terrible? Please tell me! From what it looks like I did something bad, please tell me I didn't do anything bad. " "No, you just talked a lot.” “Oh god, sorry if I said anything embarrassing.” “No, you just went on and on about how beautiful I was." "Did I? That's embarrassing! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I don't like like you in a gay way because you're not my type or anything but I'm not saying that I don't like you, I like you but not that way." Connor was kind of hurt that Evan was denying everything he said. “You said you loved me last night." Evan started to panic, but tried his best to not show it. He couldn't believe he did that. Evan decided he'd never get wasted again. “I didn't mean it I swear I didn't I was just out of it. Please don't hate me.” “You seemed pretty sure last night. Talking about how beautiful my eyes were and how much you loved my personality while you were holding my face. To me it seemed pretty legit.” Connor tried to see if Evan was was truthful in his drunken moments or not, hoping that Evan really did love him. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I do really like you a lot and I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. I understand if you hate me now and want me to leave I should go r-" Connor smashed their lips together. Evan was so shocked, he forgot to kiss back. "I love you too Ev." Connor said after they parted. Evan was a blushing mess, "Can we do that again?" Connor nodded and connected them again.

#ok I'm hella proud of this #deh #dear evan hansen #tree bros #connor x evan #evan x connor #Evan/Connor #Connor/Evan #connor murphy #evan hansen #gayyy #very gay

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