#jesus christ those dolls. i think the reason i liked them is cause they were like normal bratz

[inkmemes]

amazon  prime’s  the  boys  sentence  starters ↪  taken  from  seasons  1  &  2.  contains  non-contextual  mild  s2  spoilers.  some  have  been  slightly  altered  to  better  fit  out  of  context.  alter  as  you  see  fit  ♡

“i'm supposed to be this hero, but i don't know what the hell i'm doing.”

“just remember who your friends and who your enemies are.”

"you can't do this. you don't have the fight, you never have.”

"my superpower is reading people. watching them when they think they're alone. i see people for who they really are.”

“why have average when you can have extraordinary?”

“if i'm gonna make a difference, i just feel more comfortable doing it on a smaller scale.”

"i know a little about a lot of things.” 

“never let them see you like this.”

"just 'cause you fall on your ass doesn't mean you have to stay there.”

"since when did "hopeful" and "naive" become the same thing?”

“you need to unclench your asshole.”

"i can do whatever the fuck i want.”

"pardon my french: fuck those fuckers.” 

"you tell anyone what you saw or heard here today, and i’ll cut your hands off and shove them so far up your ass, your fingers’ll give us a little wave out your throat, yeah?”

“when they’re apart, they’re absolute fucking rubbish. but, you put them together, they’re the goddamn fucking spice girls.”

“sometimes you get further with people by treating them like people.”

“i really did want to make a difference. i really did care. i was just like you.”

“i started giving pieces of myself away and i guess i gave away everything.”

“you see, i know your secret.”

“you’re not a bad person. just a scared one.”

“what have you got to lose that you ain’t already lost?”

“i figured if you wait around long enough, two plus two equals nasty.”

“here’s the truth. anyone who tells you they know the answers is lying.”

“you know, i managed to go my whole life without seeing someone die horribly, and now i’m up to about a half dozen, so i think i’m good.”

“we’ll cross that bridge when we burn it.”

“in a partnership, there is give and there is take.”

“i should’ve done a lot more stuff. because there is nothing up there. there’s nobody in the sky watching over us. not anybody. it’s all just lies.”

“i don’t know if they really want you to be a hero. i think they just want you to look like one.”

“he is too much of an asshole to die.”

“fuck this world for confusing nice with good. be a bitch if you want. be whatever. just drop the mask once in a while. feels good. you can finally breathe.”

“[name], how is it possible that you’re dumber than you look?”

“[name], you've done a murder. comparatively speaking, this will be a piece of cake.”

“we didn't bring him here for a fucking happy meal.”

“i've got my phone linked to the ‘find your shithead friends’ app.”

“i just had to pop down to the shop. i was running a bit low on ‘mind your own fucking business’.”

“you know something? on my first day, I, uh … well, i felt like a fraud. but the good news is, everybody feels that way.”

“you ever touch me again, i will burn your eyes out. understand me?”

“wou know how you have this… image of yourself? like, i thought i was strong. you know? like, made of steel. a fighter.”

“uf you’re the fucking reason i can’t finish that vermont country dollhouse, i will fucking end you.”

“you are dispensable, which means you answer to me.”

“you’ve been walking around for months like you want to kick my ass. so do it already.”

“i can be that person that nobody thinks is awesome, but it turns out, they’re kind of fucking awesome.”

“i’m sorry but we’re not anything.”

“my nana’s your biggest fan.”

“not even [name] would have dared to try and pull this kind of shit.”

“shouldn’t we all just be competent at our jobs?”

“we can do whatever we want and no one can stop us. that is a good feeling. a really good feeling.”

“you need to get the fuck out of my house.”

“you were right. i’m not gonna get bored and move on. i’m not going anywhere.”

“life isn’t actually a pr strategy. you can say what you think.”

“pippi longstocking would bite a d, that’s for damn sure.”

“you write all women as either unknowable hitchcock bitches or michael bay fuck dolls. i mean, i get that a lifetime of jerking off to transformers didn’t exactly make you popular with the ladies, but a little effort would be nice.”

“i don’t think we have to damage control your fuck up.”

“look at you. my girl.”

“nobody likes almond joy. -- jeffrey dahmer. that's it. he's the only one.”

“jesus christ! those are like the three worst candy bars in the history of candy. that's it, you're sick in the brain.”

“i’m wanted and you’re kind of super famous.”

“he’s an actor who didn’t lie to my face everyday.”

“don’t lie to me, not again.”

“she was already dead when i blew her up.

“my son is the furthest fucking thing on this planet to a normal little boy.”

“this is a moment. girls get it done.”

“there is just no putting the toothpaste back in the tube.”

“mom says being lonely makes you know yourself better.”

“i just want you to think about me when you are getting your skin peeled off your face, bitch.”

“you don’t fuck with the money. you never fuck with the money.”

“you’re my second wind.”

“it doesn’t matter who made us, or how we got here, the point is we are here. together. family. you guys, you are my real family.”

“oh, is it so hard to believe that i want you two to be happy? and in love? honestly [name], i am really, really happy for you.”

“the hate that you carry and the warpath that you’re on, it started so long before me.”

“we can’t afford to feel good or to feel safe or to let our guard down.”

“we’re all alone. that’s the truth.”

“i don’t need anyone but myself.”

“you’re so special, that most special man on the planet. everybody loves you. everybody. their love is your strength.”

“where's the closest atm?”

“you let your canary die, how you gonna know when you've gone too far?”

“you know what i thought? i thought who fucking cares?”

“fuckin’ diabolical.”

“i'm a motherfucker with a heart.”

#rp meme #rp sentence meme #rp sentence starters #sentence meme #sentence starters

[hopelesshawks]

Love and Admiration Part 19- Goodnight Princess

18+ Bakugo x fem!pro hero reader

Summary: (Y/n) has known Bakugo since middle school, admired him since high school, and had a crush on him since the first time they met. Even now, a top pro hero in her own right, she can’t shake her school girl crush. Too bad Bakugo literally has no idea she exists. Well that’s not entirely true… He does know pro hero Mercury exists, but (y/l/n) (y/n)? Never heard of her.

Warnings for brief depiction of sexual harassment (not from Bakugo), unprotected sex, fingering, oral (female receiving), degradation, praise kink, dacryphilia (crying kink), overstimulation, and dirty talk

Masterlist Help Lulu <3

As you walk up to the AHA building you spot Aizawa talking to a man with his back to you in a black bomber jacket, a white hood pulled over the back, with a black baseball cap on. Curiosity drives your feet forward a little faster until you get close enough that recognition finally hits and causes you to slow down again. Even with his back to you you’d recognize Bakugo Katsuki anywhere. Part of you wants to turn around and run home, message Aizawa some half hearted excuse about getting tied up in a villain attack and no longer being able to help out. Before you can though Aizawa notices your arrival and waves you over. “Here’s who you’ll be working with,” you hear your former teacher tell Bakugo and just as it sinks in that Bakugo was also clueless as to who he’d been working with, he turns around to see and your heart skips a beat. Yes he looks unfairly attractive the way he always does but what really caught your attention is his outfit. Right there in the center of his white hoodie is a black Mercury symbol, the same symbol stamped somewhere on almost all your merch and the same one you’ve been using as your profile picture on social media since your debut. Bakugo follows your gaze down to the incriminating symbol, his cheeks going bright red. He mutters out an excuse about tossing bags in the car so he can turn away although you’re a little surprised when he extends his hand out to you expectantly. You consider the man in front of you who still won’t meet your gaze. Hurt still burns unpleasantly in your chest but you hand over your duffel bag and with little more than a sheepish glance and nod as acknowledgment, Bakugo moves to the trunk of the car to load it up. “You and Bakugo can handle this right? I saw the news call you a dynamic duo so,” Aizawa asks and you nod immediately. “Yea, we’ve got this. You got nothing to worry about,” you assure the older man. “Good. Get into town, get some rest, one of the local heroes will fill you in on the situation in the morning,” he explains. You nod your understanding and then go to join Bakugo in the car. Once you’re settled in, Bakugo starts up the engine and pulls off into the night.

The silence is awkward. You stare out the window as the cityscape slowly starts to thin out. Once Bakugo pulls the car out onto the highway it doesn’t take long before you’re leaving the city lights behind entirely. When the silence becomes too oppressive you pop open the glove box and root around until you find a USB port. You use your phone charger to plug in your phone, scroll through to one of your chiller playlists, and press play. Music floats through the speakers and you feel yourself relaxing although a quick glance at Bakugo reveals he doesn’t feel the same. He’d discarded his jacket in the backseat once he’d gotten in the car and, as usual, had pushed the long sleeves of the hoodie up to his elbows. As a result it’s easy to see the tense line of his shoulders and the popping veins in his forearms. His grip on the steering wheel is so tight his knuckles are almost white. You’ll be genuinely surprised if there aren’t permanent indentations of his fingers in the steering wheel by the time you two reach your destination. You’re tempted to just let him stew in whatever emotions he’s feeling at seeing you again for the first time since you’d hooked up, but then your eyes fall on where your hero name is written on the sleeve of his hoodie and you decide you’re feeling just generous enough to break the silence.

“You’re wearing the hoodie I got you.”

“Yea.”

“Why?”

Bakugo’s hands somehow tighten even more on the steering wheel before he bites out “Because I like it,” defensively. You roll your eyes and return your gaze to the window. No one can say you didn’t try. You’re about to give up and lament your fate to the groupchat when you hear Bakugo sigh next to you. “That’s not it. I mean I do like it but I didn’t think your dumb ass was gonna be here and it’s not the only reason,” Bakugo confesses. “Insulting me is not a strong start but what’s the other reason?” you ask. The pause is long before Bakugo speaks up again to admit, “I’ve missed you.” The incredulous look you give him almost makes him wince. “You’re the one who stopped messaging me you asshole!” “I know that!” “Then you don’t get to miss me!” “Well I don’t know what the fuck to tell you cause I do!” “Then why’d you ghost me?” “I panicked!”

Both of you go silent after that particular admission. This time it’s Bakugo who speaks up to break it. “Look I don’t date,” he sighs. “Who the fuck said I wanted to date you?” you ask defensively, your cheeks heating up the slightest bit. “Will you shut the fuck up? I’m trying to apologize.” “Apologize better.” “If you shut the fuck up I will.” “I don’t think apologies are supposed to include telling the other person to shut the fuck up.” “I’m trying here (y/l/n),” Bakugo growls and the almost desperate edge to his voice is enough to make you swallow your next retort, instead motioning for him to continue. “I don’t date and I don’t usually fuck people I enjoy having around. I already fucked up with you enough so I didn’t want to do it again. I panicked and that only made shit worse until I didn’t know how to fix it, ok? People care about me and I’m shit to them, that’s just how it goes. I’m sorry you got caught up in it,” he finally admits.

You weren’t expecting that level of honesty from him, nor were you expecting his answer to be so vulnerable. You turn to face him as much as you can within the confines of the seat of the car and take in his body language. Had he always been this insecure about his relationships with the people around him? Maybe if you hadn’t spent years cataloging his every move and expression from afar you would’ve missed it, but looking at him now he looks cracked open. You get the distinct impression that as small as his list of people he likes is, the list of people he’s allowed to see him like this is even smaller. “That’s not true,” you offer but that only makes Bakugo scoff. “It’s not!” you insist. “I don’t need your fucking pity,” he grumbles. “Jesus Christ you really are an idiot. Midoriya, Kirishima, and Denki all have plenty of other friends asshole. If what you said were true they would’ve dumped you a long time ago so cut the pity party bullshit and give me a real fucking apology so I can forgive you already,” you insist, and it reminds you a little of how he’d encouraged you during the reunion. The glance he shoots you is calculating, as if trying to assess how much you mean those words. “You’re going to forgive me?” he asks skeptically. “With an actual apology? Yea. I swear to god you’re the only one who still sees you as the same person you were when we first got to UA,” you reply with a roll of your eyes. “I’m sorry for ghosting you,” he grumbles out, cheeks slightly flushed as he does so. “Good. You’re forgiven. Now what songs should I play the rest of the drive?”

The ride gets a lot easier after that. You’ve missed Bakugo and it’s nice slipping back into the groove the two of you seem to have with each other. He talks shit about your song choices but you still catch him humming along or tapping the steering wheel to the beat a few times. He reveals he got around to finishing your favorite movie and so you guys spend a long time talking about that and your recommendations for other movies going forward. It’s comfortable and before you know it Bakugo is driving past the welcome sign for the tiny town the two of you will be working in. There’s only one hotel. It’s small and could probably use some updating but it’ll do just fine for the short duration of your trip. As the two of you grab your bags and start to head inside Bakugo asks “What are the odds the old man sprung for us to get our own rooms?” “Doubtful, you know the association is cheap as fuck. It has to be. You’re stuck with me,” you tease. “Guess that ain’t so bad,” Bakugo shrugs, which causes your heart to pound a little harder in your chest. “I’ll check us in if you wanna grab some shit from the vending machine,” Bakugo offers and you easily agree, the two of you heading in opposite directions to complete your tasks.

As you make your way over to the vending machine you catch the attention of a middle aged man, likely another guest, who follows you over that direction. “Well hello beautiful, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing around here?” he calls as he makes his way over. You roll your eyes but otherwise ignore him as you instead focus on selecting something from the machine in front of you. “C’mon hot stuff, don’t ignore me. I can tell you’re a big city chick, probably been around the block right? What’s one more?” he insists, sliding his body in front of you. “Do you mind? I’m trying to grab something,” you reply as levelly as possible. It’s moments like this where you hate the spotlight of heroism. You would love nothing more than to make the man blocking your way move but that would be unbecoming of a role model for future generations. “Aww don’t be like that doll, lighten up,” the man grins before having the audacity to move away from the vending machine just enough to smack your ass. You are livid, your hand immediately grasping hold of his wrist to stop him from touching you again. You whirl on him to tell him off but before you can he’s being wrenched out of your grip and violently tossed to the floor. Before you can even fully process what’s happened Bakugo stands like a wall between you, all fury and fire and brimstone. You haven’t seen him this angry in a very long time and even if the man who’d been hitting on you doesn’t know who Bakugo is, the glare and overall body language is still enough to have him cowering at Bakugo’s feet. “If you ever fucking touch her again, if you so much as fucking look at her, I will make you wish you were never fucking born,” Bakugo growls out and god maybe you do have a murder boner like Nejire said because you should not find any of this hot but you definitely do. The older man scrambles to his feet with a nod and runs off with barely a glimpse behind him and certainly not one in your direction, allowing you and Bakugo to heave a sigh of relief. “I know you had that handled but dude pissed me off,” Bakugo explains. His voice is still rough and anger-laden and you try to ignore the way it sends shivers down your spine. “Thanks Bakugo,” you reply, grateful both for his defense of you and his acknowledgment that you don’t need defending. “Katsuki,” he corrects you immediately. “What?” “You’re not mad at me anymore right?” “No?” “Then call me Katsuki,” he insists gruffly. You can only nod in response, afraid that if you open your mouth something embarrassing will come out of it like how incredibly fucking hot it was watching him defend you or how saying his first name right now is bringing back a few too many memories of when he’d first demanded you use his first name in the alley.

Bakugo leads you to your room as you try in vain to rein in your rampant thoughts. Even as you finally arrive all you can think about is the feeling of his lips on yours, the feeling of him filling you up, and what it was like to, for a moment, be the sole owner of his attention. He tosses his stuff on his bed and sits down as you move towards your own but your mind insists on picturing him fucking you relentlessly into it. “What’s up with your face dumbass?” Bakugo suddenly asks and the question makes you jump about a foot in the air, warmth filling your cheeks as you realize you’ve been caught mid-fantasy. “Nothing is up with my face!” you defend and you hope it’s the truth because you can feel how much wetness has pooled in your panties already. Bakugo rises up and stalks towards you and you can’t help but feel like prey, stepping backwards away from him until he’s got you crowded up against the wall. The similarity to that day in the alley is not lost on you and it only makes things worse. “What’s running through that head of yours princess?” he asks and the nickname is too much, a breathless curse slipping past your lips unbidden. You don’t have much time to be embarrassed by how obviously flustered you’re getting because one of Katsuki’s hands finds your waistband as if on instinct at the sound of you breathless. “If you don’t stop I won’t be able to hold back,” he admits and you can tell by the flush in his cheeks that he means it. “I thought you don’t sleep with people you like,” you reply with bated breath. “You’re the exception,” he growls out, pressing closer before seeming to think better of it and closing his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose as if trying desperately to control himself, before adding “if you want to be.” “God yes,” you reply and no sooner have the words left your mouth is he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips as if he’s been quietly suffocating and you’re the last bit of oxygen left.

Katsuki tugs you away from the wall and you go easily, allowing him to push you towards your mattress until you’re lying down on it and he can comfortably hover over you, his lips barely leaving yours the entire time. It doesn’t take long to get you both down to your underwear, the entire process a blur. “You’re such a fucking mess for me princess,” Bakugo practically purrs as he runs his fingers along the damp fabric of your panties. Your hips buck up into the attention eagerly as you nod your agreement at the statement. “Yea, it’s only for you,” you tell him breathlessly and it might’ve been embarrassing if not for the way it draws a deep, satisfied growl from Katsuki’s chest his mouth dropping to your neck and then your chest and working further and further down. “Think you deserve a better apology then I gave you in the car,” he says suddenly looking up the length of your body to find your eyes. “What do you mean?” you ask with what little breath you have in your lungs. “I’ve always been better at doing shit than talking. You thought that apology before was good just wait,” he grins up at you cockily and it already has your stomach doing somersaults even before his teeth find the waistband of your panties and start tugging them down your legs. The moan you release at the sight is completely unfettered as your already dripping wet pussy clenches desperately around nothing. Katsuki is nothing if not a tease so even once he’s done with your panties he doesn’t immediately head to the main course. He lavishes attention on your inner thighs, leaving countless hickeys in his wake but no matter how much you whine and squirm he shows no signs of moving his mouth to where you really want it. “Katsuki,” you finally whine desperately. “What is it princess?” he asks and you can feel him smirking against you, the bastard. “I don’t think apologies are supposed to be teasing like this,” you pant. “Oh really now? You got something to say about my apology princess?” Bakugo asks, the smirk sliding away. “I think you’re not much better at this kind of apology than spoken ones.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

“I didn’t realize my princess was such a whore. You want my mouth that bad? You want to cum that bad?” Katsuki asks and there’s an edge to his voice you’re pretty sure means trouble for you but you nod anyway. “Please Katsuki.” “Well if my princess wants to be a greedy fucking slut then so be it,” he agrees in that same lethal tone before diving in to devour you with an intense voracity you’re unprepared for. You moan loudly, hands grasping hard onto the blankets as he licks a hard swipe all the way from your twitching hole to your sensitive clit before pulling the nub into his mouth and sucking hard. He continues to lave attention on your sensitive clit even as he shoves two fingers into your dripping cunt and starts setting a brutal pace. Eventually he brings his free hand to take over for his mouth and stimulate your clit while he moves his tongue to join his fingers, stuffing you absolutely full. The attention is almost overwhelming and it isn’t long until you’re seeing stars, crying out Katsuki’s name. As you come down from your high you realize Katsuki is still pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you. “Katsu- ah!” you cut yourself off with a shout as he resumes massaging your swollen clit. “S-slow down,” you moan but if anything it only makes him move his fingers more aggressively. You grit your teeth, grasping the blankets even more tightly. “What’s wrong? Thought you wanted this,” he taunts as he pushes you into your second orgasm of the night.

Your entire body is tingling now, thoughts filled only with Katsuki, but he still hasn’t stopped and you’ve never been so overstimulated in your life. “Kas’ki ‘s too much,” you moan, eyes watering as he continues to relentlessly massage your almost painfully sensitive clit. “Don’t tell me my greedy little slut is done already. I still haven’t filled you up yet,” he teases you as he finally removes his finger only to line his dick up with your entrance instead. “Come on baby, I think you’ve got one more in you. Don’t you want to be good for me?” he asks and every inch of your body is saying that you should tap out but instead you find yourself nodding. “Use your words baby.” “Wanna be good for you,” you pant and the devilish grin you get in response has your heart practically in your throat. Slowly but surely Bakugo starts pushing into you. It’s so much, too much, stimulation but even as tears start to run down your cheeks you can’t bring yourself to tell him to stop. He curses under his breath as he finally bottoms out inside you, taking a moment to collect himself so it won’t be over too soon. As he starts moving he lavishes you with praise while all you can do is whine and whimper, alternating between barely intelligible expressions of how fucking good it all feels and broken cries of his name. “God you look so fucking beautiful like this. You know that? Fucking gorgeous,” he groans as his hips move faster and faster. You can tell when he’s close, his rhythm starting to get sloppier. “You ready to give me that third one baby? Can you do that for me?” he asks and you nod frantically, coasting along that razor thin edge between pleasure and pain. He leans down to kiss you then, swallowing each broken sound you make, as he rocks into you harder and harder until you’re both too strung out to do much more than pant and breathe into each other’s mouths. You topple over the ledge first but Katsuki isn’t far behind, your walls fluttering and clenching around him. You sob out his name one final time as praises pour from his lips about how perfect you were for him. “Knew you could do it for me princess. So good for me,” he sighs as he continues to paint your insides white.

When Bakugo is finally spent, he rolls over and practically collapses next to you. You both have to take a minute to recover, chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. Unsurprisingly, Bakugo recovers first so he carefully pulls back the covers before bringing them back up to drape over the two of you. “You good?” he asks, eyes scanning over your body as if trying to catalogue any damage he might’ve done. “More than good,” you sigh contentedly. “Good. C’mere,” he commands and you’re more than happy to oblige, allowing him to pull you against his chest. He carefully wipes the tears away from your cheeks before wrapping you more fully into his arms. “I take back what I said,” you mumble into his chest, exhaustion creeping in as the steady beat of his heart starts to lull you to sleep. “What are you on about now?” he asks, but the fondness in his tone belies the harshness of his words. “You’re fucking amazing at apologies,” you mumble. “Shut up and go to sleep dumbass,” he replies but you can practically hear the pleased smirk in his voice.

“Goodnight Katsuki.”

“Goodnight Princess.”

A/N: Apologies are difficult for Bakugo. He’s a very actions speak louder than words kinda guy. Also as funny a trope as the whole “forced to share one bed at a hotel/motel cause there are no other rooms” trope is, it’s more meaningful to me if there are two beds and they still choose to share.

Taglist: @pixelwisp @oliviasslut @larkspyrr @heroacadema @kozukatsuki @captaincyberqueen @undead-nyx @ineedtofocusfr @i-heart-fictional-boys

#hopelessla #bakugo smau #bakugo x fem!reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo katsuki #hopeless.thirst

[cjsinkythoughts]

The Night Shift

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4,189

Warnings: a few bad language words (sorry Stevie), fluff, I think that’s all

Summary: Your bad day turns worse when you're given the night shift at work. But you find it has more perks than you original thought. 

A/N: Here it is! My first ever posted/published work! This is a bit new for me for quite a few reasons. 1. I usually write OCs. 2. I'm used to writing 3rd POV and past tense. 3. I like writing series and longer fics. 4k is actually pretty mild for me. Also, I'm planning on doing more first date fics with the Avengers, but we'll see if I keep up with that. Thank you and enjoy!

(Pictures not mine but collage is)

Today is not your favorite day. You woke up late, your laundry isn’t done because the machines were all being used when you tried, your roommate didn’t do the dishes so you had to do them before you left, your car broke down - meaning you had to take the Subway - and now you’re working an extra shift because your stupid coworker didn’t show up.

Who even comes in to get coffee at 9 at night? The sky is dark, the stars are out, and everyone should be getting ready for bed - including you. God. You love New York, but sometimes you wish the damn city would just go to sleep for once in it’s goddamn existence.

You’re practically asleep on your feet, getting ready to close in fifteen minutes, when the door opens, the little bell ringing in response. You rub your eyes and turn from where you’re wiping down the back counters to speak to the wackjob who wants coffee at this cursed hour.

You freeze, your eyes meeting stunning azures framed by dark lashes. Thick, soft, chocolate locks fall down past his ears and into those alluring eyes. Lips, perfectly pink and very tempting, pull up in a delicious smile. He’s got a jawline sharp as a knife, only accentuated by the dark scruff covering it. Jesus Christ this man is attractive. He’s also vaguely familiar…

He strolls up to the counter, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans that pulled taunt around his thick thighs. His shirt is pulled tightly across his shoulders, muscles flexing beneath the fabric, threatening to tear the material with every movement.

“Hello.” You thank whatever deity that might be out there that your voice doesn’t shake as you greet the gorgeous god of a man.

“Hi there, doll. Cody’s off today, huh?” Even his voice is breathtaking.

“Yeah. He didn’t show up. Is he a friend of yours?”

The man tilts his head in confusion, before his eyes light up realization. “Oh, no. No. I just come here a lot.”

“At nine at night?”

He shrugs, a small blush rising on his cheeks. “It’s the only time I get to myself really.” It clicks in your head who this man is when he raises his hand to rub the back of his neck. Black metal gleams in place of tanned skin.

“You’re Bucky Barnes!” You blink at him in disbelief. His hand quickly finds its way back to his pocket while he chuckles awkwardly. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. You’re one of my favorite Avengers! After Black Widow, obviously, but-” You stop rambling, feeling heat rise to your face. “God, I’m tired. Uh, what can I get you?” You punch in the order that he gives you and look up shyly. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

He smirks and leans on the counter. “How about a name, darlin'? Yours, specifically.”

You roll your eyes, unable to contain the snort you give. “I’ll be right back with your order, sir.” You start making his drink, avoiding his eyes that you feel watching your every move. Usually you had another worker helping to make drinks, but since there’s only ten minutes until closing, you’re alone to close up the shop tonight.

You also usually only write on the cup when there’s more than one person, but you find yourself writing down your own name on his cup. It is part of his order, after all.

“Here you go.” You repeat his order, handing his cup to him.

He raises an amused eyebrow. “You forgot-” You interrupt him by clicking your tongue and turning the cup in his hands. He looks down at it curiously, before grinning and reading the ink out loud. The way your name falls off his lips has you holding in a shiver. “Thanks, sugar.” You watch him leave the shop, whistling a nameless tune, and wonder if Cody would mind switching shifts more.

Turns out, Cody had been arrested, so your boss had to hire a new kid who, because of school, couldn’t do the night shifts. Which meant your shifts changed. Not that you mind all that much; it gives you more chances to see Bucky.

When he said he comes in often, he wasn’t lying. Occasionally he stays while you clean and lock up and the two of you get lost in conversation under the city lights outside the shop. He usually orders and leaves with a witty comment and a wink, probably off to save the world from aliens or Nazis. He always orders the same thing, but he always asks for a little something extra, different every night.

“The usual?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Anything else?”

“Your phone number would be great.”

~

“I’ll get right on your drink, Buck.”

“Awesome. Can you add your favorite flowers to that, too? Thanks, sugar.”

~

“I’m gonna change it up today, dollface.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll have the usual, but on the side I want to know what your favorite dessert is.”

He’s such a charmer. You aren’t sure if he’s just flirting or if he actually likes you. You think maybe he does that with every girl - waitresses, cashiers, secretaries - and he’s just being friendly. You’re sure after being stuck as a brainwashed assassin for nearly a century, flirting and cracking jokes with people makes him feel more normal. Still, you can’t help but wish that maybe the relationship you have now would become…more.

It’s not until he shows up a few weeks after your first meeting that you finally get an answer to whether or not he really likes you.

The bell rings, signifying a customer coming into the shop. You know it’s Bucky by the watch on your wrist; in the past few weeks of working the night shift, only one other person came in at nine o’clock.

“Good evening, beautiful.” A smile lifts the corners of your mouth at the familiar smooth voice that you could listen to all day. “Whatcha doin’ down there?”

You straighten up and look over the counter. “It’s called inventory. How’s your day been, Buckaroo?”

“Better now that I get to see your pretty face.”

You roll your eyes, face heating up and a small smile gracing your features. “Give me a minute and I’ll have your drink done. Anything extra?”

“This is a bit riskier than normal, but I’ve been wanting to try it for a while. Can I get your schedule?”

You raise an eyebrow in confusion as he smirks confidently. “My schedule?”

“Yeah. I just need to know something.”

“What would that be?”

“You free on Saturday, doll?”

* * * * * * * *

Saturday comes much too slowly for your liking, especially considering he asked you out only two days prior. He didn't tell you what you'd be doing today, so you decide on a casual sundress that you can play off as fancy if you need it to be. The color and style compliments you and your beautiful features perfectly and you can only hope he agrees. Your roommate assured you you looked gorgeous before going out with some of their other friends this morning.

You're just putting the finishing touches on your outfit for the day when a knock on your door sounds throughout your apartment. You check your watch: 10:30 on the dot. Just like he said. You get up too quickly, causing you to trip on your own feet and stumble - but luckily you catch yourself before you fall. Feeling simultaneously embarrassed and relieved he didn't see your clumsy actions, you head to open the door.

A bouquet of your favorite flowers appeared once you open the door, bright cerulean eyes shining at you from behind them. He grins, said eyes scanning your figure. "You look pretty as a picture, doll."

You duck your head bashfully, taking the flowers from him. "Thank you." You not so subtly check him out as you put the flowers in a vase. Like always, Bucky is absolutely stunning: his brown locks frame his face, falling into those mesmerizing blues, which are even more so due to the dark blue t-shirt under the light bIue jean jacket hugging his muscled torso. Dark jeans pull taunt across those thighs, his large hands in his pockets casually. You find yourself frowning when you notice his left hand is covered by a black glove. You want to say something, but decide against it, too anxious to ruin the date with this god of a man.

He clears his throat, which brings your gaze back to his face. You feel yourself heat up at the smirk on his perfectly pink lips. "Uh, I, um, so...what are we doing today?"

"I thought we could have some fun today, since all you ever seem to do is work."

"I don't always work." You quickly defend. He raises a disbelieving eyebrow, making you drop your head again. "Okay. Maybe I don't get out much."

He chuckles. "Good thing. That way I get you to myself." There's that smug smirk again. "As for what we're doing, that's for me to know and you to find out. I'd wear walking shoes if I were you, though."

You give him a curious look, moving over to grab your keys, phone, and wallet, before slipping on your sneakers. "I don't get a hint or anything?"

"And ruin the surprise? Where's the fun in that?" You giggle a bit as the two of you head out your door and down the hall. "I didn't know if you mind motorcycles, so I just borrowed Steve's car." He tells you in the elevator.

You talk about motorcycles and your opinion of them as you walk out your building and into the bright Spring sun. Your eyes widen at the nice Camaro parked in the street that he leads you to. "Wow."

"Yeah." Bucky nods in agreement. "Tony had it custom made for Steve for their anniversary a few months ago."

"And he's allowing you to use it?"

Bucky chuckles, running a hand through his hair as a pink tint dusts his cheeks. "'Allow' is a strong word."

You laugh as he opens the passenger door for you. You thank him, sliding onto the nice brown leather seat. "Does he even know you have it?"

He shrugs, shutting the door and leaning into the open window. "He'll find out soon, I'm sure."

Another laugh escapes you, a smile adorning his lips at the sound. He walks around the car, doing a hood slide to make you chortle again. While you two start driving, you try to convince him to give you a hint, but he's stubborn, denying you answers with that annoyingly charming smirk of his.

You recognize the direction you're going after a while and bounce in your seat as you arrive. "Coney Island?"

"I haven't been here since before the War and I've been meaning to come see how it's changed." He told you with a grin. "Who better to come check it out with than the pretty dame who serves me coffee at nine o'clock without complaining?"

Rolling your eyes to cover how much comments affect you, you smile teasingly in return. "Have you always been such a charmer, Barnes?"

He parks the car before shooting you a wink. "Only to angels, darlin', and you're the first one I've met so far."

You inwardly curse, hating how easily flustered you get around him. He gets out of the car and you're about to follow when he opens your door for you and offers his hand to you like the gentleman he is. You take it, enjoying the feeling of your smaller one against his rough calluses, and he helps you out of the car, shutting the door behind you.

"You ready to have the time of your life, dolIface?"

"As long as you get me a treat." You joke, linking your arm with the one he offers.

"Like I wasn't going to?" He scoffs back. "Who do you think l am, sugar? Now c'mon. Fun's awaitin'."

You laugh, letting him drag you around, loving the child-like wonder in his pretty eyes. Whether or not you enjoy roller coasters, you have a blast: playing carnival games, eating food you both know is terrible for you, but tastes oh so good, and people watching the interesting crowds, all while teasing and playing around with each other. There's nothing better you can think of to do with your free day than goof off with Bucky, no stress or worries plaguing your mind like usual. He even wins you multiple adorable plushies! Being a super soldier wasn't just good for saving the world, evidently.

It was while you're eating lunch that you ask Bucky why he's wearing a glove. "I've already seen your arm. I don't mind."

He hesitates, opening his mouth before licking his lips nervously. "It's not...I know you don't. I just don't...I dunno. I don't wanna freak anyone out."

You frown and put down your food, leaning forwards on your elbows. "First off, I think you're an amazing person. Just throwing that out there. Second, I don't think anyone will mind. You're a hero. An Avenger. Basically a celebrity with a badass arm. And, finally, if anyone does say anything, I'll tell them off. Easy peasy."

He snorts at that, before looking at his gloved hand warily. You reach across the table to give both his hands a squeeze. He meets your eyes and you grin reassuringly back. "If you're not comfortable, that's okay. Just know that other people should never be the reason to hide yourself. Trust me."

"I do." He says genuinely. You give him a questioning look, playing with the tips of his gloved fingers. At his nod, you slowly start taking his glove off, giving him time to say no. He doesn't, letting you tug it all the way off. He blushes when you lift the smooth metal to your lips.

"So, what's next? Wanna win me one of those monkeys with the velcro hands?" He chuckles at your question, telling you he'd win you all of them if you asked. You giggle, tightening your hold on his hand and, after finishing the last bite of food, pulling him to the booth with the monkey prizes.

When it starts getting dark, Bucky convinces you to go on the Ferris Wheel with him, promising to hold your hand the whole time if you're scared of heights (even though you haven't let go of his hand or arm since lunch). It's one of the most stunning scenes you've ever seen. The sun is just barely peeking over the horizon, a few stars dotting the darkened sky, a rare sight living in New York City. The aforementioned city's lights were turning on, causing the skyline to glow brightly. It's hard to think of anything bad about NYC when she looks like that.

"Wow. " You breath, enchanted by the city you've grown to love as home. "There's something almost...magical about it, don't you think?" You turn to Bucky, still captivated by the view, expecting him to be the same. After all, New York has been his home for over a century and so much has changed. Instead, you find him intently watching you, a small, adoring smile etched on his features. You smile shyly, unable to keep his gaze while he's looking at you like that - like you're the most enthralling thing he's seen, bewitching his heart and soul, even with the magnificent picture before you.

"Yeah...there is." He agrees, grabbing your chin between his left thumb and pointer finger gently, making your eyes meet. His right arm is around your shoulders, pulling you into his warm chest, heating you up from the chill the night is bringing.

Your heart drums hard against your ribs when he glances at your lips and you're sure he could hear it, even without his enhanced hearing. Your eyes lock onto his lips as his tongue darts out to wet them. You're suddenly so much closer, his right hand holding the back of your neck delicately while his left cups the side of your jaw. Your hands are gripping his jacket, noses brushing.

"Can I kiss you?" His voice comes out low and raspy.

"If you didn't, I'd probably smack you."

You feel his deep chuckle reverberate through his chest, which you just notice is pressed solidly against yours. Before you can process anything, his lips are slanted over yours. They're softer than you originally thought and they move expertly against yours. It surprises you, before you remember he's technically over a century old, so of course he has experience.

The kiss is over before you want it to be, but the need for oxygen gets too much and your lungs start to sting, so you pull back reluctantly, your hands now in his hair while he's holding your face tenderly.

"Speaking of magic."

You laugh, rolling your eyes as the Ferris Wheel starts turning again. "Who knew Bucky Barnes is such a sap?"

He smirks, leaning forwards to peck your Iips a couple times. "I prefer the term 'romantic'."

Once you get off, you hold onto his elbow, leaning against his shoulder. "Thank you for bringing me, Buck. I really enjoyed today."

"Well that's good considering we're not done."

Your eyebrows shoot up. "Wait, what?"

Bucky scoffs in amusement. "You didn't think that was all, didya, doll? The day's not over; the night's still young!" His right arm slings around your shoulders, pulling you close and kissing your head.

"Okay. What's next?" You ask curiously. He raises an eyebrow, a smirk on those delicious lips. "Another surprise?"

"Hope you're hungry, sweetheart."

"Dinner?"

Giving you a charming grin, he leads you back to the car. "Guess you'll have to wait 'n see, darlin’."

* * * * * * * *

"Buck.” You groan, toeing the ground nervously. The blindfold covering your eyes was keeping you from seeing anything and, to your embarrassment, you've already tripped more times than you care to admit. “Where are we? l feel like we've been walking forever. Can I take this stupid thing off yet?”

Bucky chuckles softly in your ear, holding you steady as you walk on the uneven surface beneath your feet. “We’re almost there, doll. I promise."

Letting out a huff, you let him lead you further along. Finally, after what feels like hours, though you know you're being dramatic and haven't been walking that long, he stops. "Stay right here," he mumbles, his hands that were on your shoulders leaving, along with his warmth behind you, with a kiss to your cheek.

"Haha. You're so funny."

A couple snickers leave his lips and you can just imagine the smile no doubt gracing his features - the one that crinkles the corners of his eyes adorably. You feel wind nip at your bare skin and shiver slightly, wondering where the hell you are.

"Okay. C'mere." His hands are on you again, the contrast of the two adding to the goosebumps the breeze was giving you. "Right here." You can practically feel his excitement and nerves as he positions you. "Alright. Ready?"

"As much as I'll ever be, I suppose."

His nimble fingers are suddenly at the edge of cloth covering your eyes, which he makes quick work of, tugging it off gently. "You can open your eyes, sugar." He chuckles, seeing your eyes tightly clenched shut. You do as he says and blink them open. The sight that meets you takes your breath away.

He brought you to a beach, which you had kind of already guessed due to the sad slipping through your shoes. In front of you, a blanket is spread out, being held at the corners by lanterns, which are connected by a string of fairy lights outlining the blanket. Pillows are scattered on the blanket, a picnic basket to the side while a single red rose is in a small vase in the center with rose petals surrounding the setup. He really is a romantic.

"Bucky. It's beautiful. When did you set this up?"

He rubs the back of his neck, turning red. You smile, enjoying the fact that you can make him just as flustered as he makes you. “Actually, the team helped me out a bit. It was originally just Natasha and Steve. But, uh, then Tony and Wanda found out and then...Sam."

You giggle, knowing his and Sam's brotherly relationship from previous conversation. "I bet he teased the shit out of you when he found out."

"Please," Bucky scoffs. "I'll be the butt of his jokes for at least a month. At least, this part of me will."

"Well, I love this side of you if that's worth anything."

He grins dashingly at you. "Then let the birdbrain tease, because that’s worth everything. Here." Taking your hand, he leads you over to the blanket and sits you down. "All those questions at the coffee shop and I never asked your favorite drink so I brought red, white, beer, Coke, Pepsi, root beer, and," he pulls out the last bottle he brought with a boyish smile. "Apple juice. There's water in 'ere too. And, o' course, the meal and the dessert, which I did ask about because I'm not a complete idiot."

Laughing, you can't help but pull him in for a kiss. "You're so cute."

He clears his throat, his face heating up while he rubs the back of his neck, tying his hair back in a knot. He hands out compliments like candy on Halloween but he can't take them to save his life. How adorable can one man be?

You two eat and talk about everything from hilarious childhood stories to what keeps you up at night. You love listening to his fascinating tales of playing through the 20s, scraping through the 30s, and fighting through the 40s. You especially love the way his face lights up when talking about his family, the Howling Commandos, and America's Golden Boy, both twink and tank stories.

After a couple hours, you find yourself wrapped in his warm jacket - which smelled amazing - leaning against him as he tells you about his new family. You sip on your preferred drink, your eyes fluttering shut, content to simply listen to his soothing voice talking about Clint and Scott's latest prank on Pietro.

"You tired, doll?" You hear him whisper tenderly, his arms around your waist while his thumbs run small circles on your sides.

You hum and look back at him over your shoulder. "Just feeling the moment." He smiles adoringly at you, kissing your temple.

"It's getting late anyways. We should get you home. Don't want your roommate worrying."

You scoff, but agree. You help him clean up and carry things to the car, despite his protests. You nearly fall asleep on the ride back, his big, warm hand resting comfortably on your thigh the whole way. He squeezes gently when you pull up to your building, murmuring lightly to wake you up.

Ever the gentleman, he walks you inside and helps you bring the armful of prizes he got you to your door. Once there, you unlock the door and lean against the frame, facing him.

"Thank you, James. As far as first dates go, this is by far the best one I've had."

He shoots you a smug grin. "Glad to hear that, beautiful. Does that mean if I asked for a second date you'd say yes?"

You give him a smirk back. "I'd say your chances are very good."

"And if asked for a goodnight kiss from the most gorgeous girl I've ever been blessed to be in the presence of?"

You giggle, ducking your head shyly. His hands grip your jaw, pulling your gaze back to him. He nudges your nose with his, whispering against your lips, "is that a yes?" AII you can think to do is nod. He smirks at your reaction, before he's pulling your lips against his. It's more passionate, less hesitant and experimental, than the few previous kisses you shared. He's angling your face to deepen the kiss, his hands tangle in your hair and his tongue prods your lips open, swallowing the little whimper you let out.

When you pull back, you're breathless, panting against his open month. "You workin' tomorrow, darlin'?" He rasps out.

"No." You try to collect yourself enough to answer, although it's hard with all your nerves on fire, his scent fogging up your brain. You manage to move your heavy tongue enough to say, "I have the weekend off."

A broad grin lights up his pretty face. "Great. I'll be over at nine. Have a nice night, sweetheart."

You nod, an airy "goodnight" leaving your lips. You watch him walk off, a pep in his step and his lips turned up. You lean back against your door, hugging all your new plushies to your chest, still wrapped up in his jacket, and let out a sigh.

You'll have to go visit Cody and thank him. After all, that dreadful night shift gave you the best day of your Iife.

#cjsinkythoughts #cjswriting #first written work #first published work #marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #please excuse any mistakes #thanks for reading! #first dates w/ avengers #💙🦾

[hb-writes]

Name Your Price

Written in response to Hauntober prompt #4: Candy Apples.

Summary: From the Little Lady Blinder universe! Shelby sister negotiates to go to the fair with Isiah and Finn.

Characters Featured: John Shelby, Esme Shelby, Finn Shelby, Clara Shelby (Shelby!Sister), Isiah Jesus is sitting outside in the car. 

-----

“The kids are asleep,” Clara told her brother as she came down the stairs. 

John was relaxing on the couch, watching the fire, and he nodded, glancing to his sister for just a moment before returning his gaze to the flame. It was early for his kids to be asleep, especially the older ones, but Clara had a special way with them, always had. She possessed some mysterious bargaining chip that came along with being close in age to them. John had never really questioned it, and at the prospect of a quiet night, he wouldn’t question it now either. 

“So, since the kids are in bed, I thought, maybe, it might be nice for you and Esme to have an evening to yourselves...?” 

John turned and took a longer look at her. She’d let her hair down, pulled on her coat. “Where are you off to?” 

“Just going out,” Clara answered as she stepped in front of the decorative mirror in the front hall and began applying her lipstick, her back to him. “I won’t be out too late.” 

“I thought you came by to spend some time with me but here you are all dolled up like you’ve got a date.” 

Clara rolled her eyes as she stuck the lipstick tube in her bag.

“We’re just going to the fair,” she answered as she took one last look at her face and turned to him.

“Who’s we?”

“Finn and Siah. And I’m sure some of Esme’s family wil--”

“And you need to wear red lipstick for them?” John asked.

“The lipstick’s not for them, John. It’s ‘cause I like it.”

John scoffed. “Well, where’d you get something like that anyway?”

“Ada sent it.”

“Of course, a gift from our bloody Americanized sister.”

“Oi! Will you leave your sister be?” Esme stepped in the room, hands on her hips as she looked at her husband. “She bathed and put your rowdy kids to bed, so you’d best be nothing but grateful to her.” 

“Esme, I’m supposed to be grateful that she uses us to skirt Tommy’s rules? She’ll get all our asses kicked.” 

“Yeah, by who?” Esme asked as she joined them to sit. 

“Tom, for one, and Aunt Pol,” he answered.

“You’re really still scared of them, John?” Clara asked.

“Hey, you shut it!” John answered. “You are, too, or you would’ve just left from Tom’s.”

“Yeah, well, I likely wouldn’t have made it through his front door, now, would I?” 

“I haven’t decided yet if you’ll be making it through mine,” he answered.

Clara groaned, collapsing on the couch beside her brother and taking a moment to compose herself before wrapping her arm around one of his.

“Please, John?” she asked. “I’ll be in your debt.”

John peeled his arm out of her grasp, settling it on the back of the couch. “You’re already in my fucking debt. Using me and Es like this every other week. Why didn’t you just ask him to go? Unless there’s a reason he’d have said no?”

“This was just easier. Your house is closer. And I don’t use you. I come for supper, spend some time with the kids,” she offered.

John crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, and you go out on the town for dessert.” 

Clara grabbed his arm again. “Alright, how about this? I’ll watch the kids next weekend so you and Es can go out. Or whatever you want. Just let me go to the fair and don’t tell our brother I went and you can name your price.” 

John didn’t get to answer as they all drowned in the incessant honking coming from the front of the house. 

“If those boys wake the kids, I’ll kill the lot of you,” Esme warned, her glare on the door as Finn came through. 

"What’s the hold up?” he asked. “We’re late.”

“John’s decided on being difficult,” Clara answered.

“Imagine being married to him,” Esme said from across the room. 

“Oi, what have you got to be unhappy about? You’ve got your land and your precious fucking chickens.”

“Yeah, and I’ve got you making trouble for your sister just for the sake of it. Just let them--”

He cut her off. “If there’s anyone causing trouble, it’s those three. Been up to nothing but mischief since they were kids, always trying to bring me into it.”

“We’re just going to the bloody fair, John!” Clara dropped his arm and leaned back into the couch. “It’s not like we’re robbing a bank.” 

“And it’s not like you never caused a bit of mischief,” Finn said.

“See, Esme, they admit--”

“Oh, christ!” Clara folded her arms over her chest. “Nice fucking job, Finn.” 

“What?” Finn asked. “It’s true. They all did worse than we’ve ever done. We’d never get away with half of what they did.”

“As it should be,” John said to Finn before turning to his sister. “And you’re a lady, we hold you to a different standard.” 

Clara rolled her eyes. 

“Right, because girls are supposed to do as they’re told while boys get to do as they please?” Esme said.

“That’s not what I meant,” John answered.

“It is what you meant, you just don’t like how I’ve said it,” Esme offered. “But if one of them can go, they both should be allowed... or not allowed, if that’s where you’re leaning.” 

Esme picked up her drink, taking an innocuous sip and both twins glared at her.

John met his wife’s eye. “Enough, Esme.” 

“The only person who decides when I’ve said enough is me, John Shelby.”

The two stared at each other across the room and Clara met Finn’s eye over John’s head, a silent discourse over who would do the interrupting passing between them. 

Finn drew the metaphoric short straw and finally cleared his throat. “So, uh, are you letting her come or...?”

John’s eyes remained locked on his wife and Finn’s words dissolved into silence.

Clara raised an eyebrow at Finn’s attempt before refocusing on John, scooting closer to him on the couch. “I’ll uh… I could bring you back an apple,” Clara offered.

John turned his head and met her eye, the corner of his mouth turning up in a half smile. 

“Might as well bring enough for the lot of them, don’t want to be listening to their hollering for going without,” John answered as he reached into his pocket, seeking out a few bank notes. “And one for your sister-in-law, though I’m sure it won’t keep her from hollering at me.”

“Not being a sexist idiot would keep me from hollering at you,” Esme answered as she left the room, the door slamming after her exit.

“Right,” Clara said, cringing as she turned back to John. “So, eight candy apples? That’s your price?”

John rubbed his chin before pulling another note from his pocket. “Ehhh, better make it nine.”

“Nine?” Finn asked. “What for?” 

“Did you not see how angry she is, mate? I don’t think one apple will do it.” 

“Maybe try not being a sexist idiot, like she said,” Clara answered as she tucked the money away in her purse. 

“Oi! Finn, take her out before I change my mind.”

-----

Read more Little Lady Blinder stories here.

#Hauntober #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #john shelby #esme shelby #finn shelby #clara shelby #isiah jesus #shelby!sister #little lady blinder #not spooky

[little-diable]

Doll - Negan (smut)

I can’t stop looking at this gif, this man, Jesus fucking Christ. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Negan, a man that seemed untouchable, like a protagonist from a tale people used to tell themselves, ages ago, like a celebrity, even though celebrities were a phenomenon, that didn’t exist any longer. 

People would fall onto their knees for him, would give into his every command, would give their lives for him, besides one woman, the woman he kept hidden away from curious eyes, the woman that had been by his side for years by now. (Y/n)’d keep him steady, would keep him focused on their cause, you could say, that she had been just as ruthless and cruel like him. She’d move around the cold walls of the sanctuary like a shadow, people may have seen her before, they’d keep on wondering, who she was and why she was hiding away from them. 

(Y/n)s fingers were dancing across his calloused hands, his eyes were closed, he was sprawled out on their shared bed, her weight was pressed against his waist, legs placed on either side of his upper body. “We’ll circle them in tomorrow.”, his raspy voice echoed through the room, she took in a deep breath, her (y/e/c) eyes seemed cold, keeping her emotions locked away. 

“You’ll make it back to me.”, she stated, his eyes fluttered open, confusion clear beneath them, “promise me”, (y/n) moved her hands across his stubble, the salt and pepper hairs pricked into her soft skin. “I’ll make it back to you.”, Negan grasped her jaw, his thumb stroked across her pulsing jaw muscles, his eyes were hooked onto her lips, Negan rose his back from the mattress, tightly holding onto her. 

They began to drown away in each others embraces, the nights dark veil began to settle around them, giving them just enough time to relish in each others presences. He’d rise at twilight, just before the sun would paint the morning sky in it’s orange shadow, watching her chest rise and fall for a few moments, her (y/h/c) hair would hide her gorgeous features away from his longing eyes, giving him another reason to return to her, just to catch those loving (y/e/c) pupils once again. 

(Y/n) would dread days without Negan by her side, they’d seem to never end, minutes would feel like hours, the ticking of her clock would slowly drive her insane. Those days would leave her anxious and lonely, which would barely happen, (y/n) wasn’t one to give into her confusing thoughts, wouldn’t think about any scenarios where she’d have to wash his blood off her hands, scolding herself for not being able to protect him. 

She’d hear him before she’d see him, would feel his presence nearing as his thick boots were pounding against the floor, echoing along the hallway, “missed me doll?”, his teasing voice would find her from across the room, her eyes were set on the book in her lap. “Barely”, (y/n) wouldn’t let him in on the nerve-wracking hours she had just managed to live through, she would love to see the smirk tug on his lips as he’d mumble “liar” against her lips. 

“You reek”, she panted, still out of breath from the way their tongues had just fought for dominance, “you brat”, Negan grasped her middle, throwing her over his shoulder, smirking at the giggles, that rumbled through her. He pushed her into the shower, the hot water drenched her clothes, they sticked to her skin, weighing her down, against the cold tiles of their luxurious shower. Like a predator he’d claw her shirt between his fists, ripping it off her wet skin, Negan stared down on her, admiring her body inch by inch. 

She’d struggle to pull his shirt off his chest, he’d just be too tall, Negan's chuckle echoed through the shower, “need any help?”, she’d wipe that smirk off his lips in a matter of a few seconds. Negan's chuckles had turned deeper, they got mixed up with his moans as (y/n) grasped his growing bulge, she unbuttoned his trousers and sunk down onto her knees. The water was falling down on her, her wet (y/h/c) was sticking onto her forehead, a sight he would burn into his mind, something he’d hopefully never forget about. 

His shaft felt heavy in her hands, they seemed rather small in comparison to his big ones, she had a hard time wrapping them around his girth, Negan's head fell back against the tiles, his deep moans were rumbling through him. “God, doll, you and you’re fucking mouth.”, he spat, her eyes found his, trying to ignore the harsh drops of water, her tongue began to circle his leaking tip, one hand found its way to his balls, rolling them between her fingers, Negan's knees felt weak, he was putty in her hands. 

(Y/n) relaxed her jaw, she could fit most of him down her throat, her cheeks felt hot around his length, almost as good as her clenching walls, she hummed as he grasped her hair and began to pull it together into a makeshift ponytail. Her moans shot vibrations up his body, his skin was tingling, his breath was hitched in his chest, Negan could feel his own orgasm fast approaching. “Doll”, he warned her, “I’m close”, he liked to give her the freedom, to decide where she’d want him to cum, he didn’t like to force her into anything he knew she wouldn’t enjoy as much. 

With a groan he came down her throat, she swallowed the sticky fluid down in one go, smirking up at him, he ran his thumb across her now pouty lips, “fucking gorgeous”, he murmured. Negan ripped her back onto her feet, his hands found her boobs as he pressed her against the shower wall, her hard nubs ached beneath his fingers, some sense of relief began to fill her the moment he finally began to squeeze her nipples. She shamelessly moaned his name, (y/n) had a hard time standing tall with her trembling knees, she had to hold onto him, couldn’t trust her body any longer. 

A devilish chuckle wrecked through him, “bet your pussy is fucking dripping for me”, he bit into her earlobe, his hot breath made her shiver, Negan turned off the water and pulled her out of the shower. He hoisted her up onto the sink, placed between her legs, he dipped his head down and sucked on her clit, making (y/n)s head fall back against the fogged mirror. Her nails sunk into the skin of his shoulders, leaving red marks, “Negan”, her voice sounded higher than usual, the savior kept on devouring her, his long fingers began to tease her entrance, slowly pushing into her tight heat. 

She had to fight against the instinct to close her thighs, he had his head buried between them, Negan's teasing eyes found hers, he chuckled against her skin, sending another shiver up her body. “Fucking delicious.”, he bit into the skin of her thigh, his teeth almost pierced through her skin, the spot began to throb, intensifying the burning ache, that overtook her senses. He grasped his hard length, stranding tall and proud once again, ready to coax her release out of her, Negan would love to watch her fall apart. 

He sunk into her wetness without any warning, stretched her walls around him, Negan placed one hand against the mirror, the other one was holding onto her hip. A frown began to appear on her skin, (y/n) tried to concentrate on his handsome features, the way little droplets of water were running down his forehead, but she couldn’t. He felt too good buried inside of her, pleasure was burning in her veins, (y/n) got sucked into her own headspace, a place where nothing mattered, besides Negan and the way he was about to wreck her. 

His thrusting was fast and merciless, Negan gave his all, his goal was to leave her throbbing and marked, for his own eyes to admire. Her high pitched screams were like music to his ears, he kept on groaning for her, watching himself disappear in her clenching heat. “How does it feel, doll?”, he kept his eyes trained on her core, almost missing the “so good” she panted, making another smirk appear on his lips. 

Both were close, ready to fall apart and give into the clashing waves of pleasure, with one last deep thrust Negan pushed her over the edge, the heat around them began to build up, it engulfed them. He pulled out of her and released himself onto her abdomen just in time, watching the white substance drip down her skin. (Y/n) grasped his face and pulled him in for a kiss, moaning into his mouth, both could only imagine the things they’d do in the following hours, ready to fall apart over and over again.

#Negan #Negan imagine #Negan smut #Negan fanfic #Negan x reader #negans thirst squad #Jeffrey dean morgan #twd #twd imagine #twd smut #the walking dead #the walking dead negan #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead smut #negan one shot

[babyboy-cody]

‘ ‘ chapter | 01 ’ ’

complex desires. ( prologue ) ( masterlist )

SUMMARY: It’s the first week of classes after winter break, but you’re not exactly used to seeing new faces - teachers and students in between.

WARNINGS: explicit language, mentions of mental disorders, anxious thoughts, anxiety attack

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

NOTES: i’m currently writing this chapter while drinking a big ass mug of hot cocoa. also, hunter’s pronouns are they/them! this series is one i’m most excited for. hope you kiddies enjoy <3

It was still early when the clouds gave off their rain to the grass and trees, when the road became alive with more splashes than your eyes could appreciate. Yet together they brought such a soothing sound, a natural melody every bit as beautiful as a mother's soulful hum. You felt each splash that touched your skin, watching as your cardigan become a deeper, more rocky hue. It was as if earlier the street had been a matte photograph, only to be washed as glossy as any magazine page.

Each raindrop is a kaleidoscope, if people could only see more closely. You wonder as you walk how it would be to stop time, to suspend this watery gift and peek through each one. Perhaps it would be fun to sit inside those raindrops and take that gravity propelled ride to the earth, as you imagine it you feel your inner self laughing – a little at the crazy daydream and a little at your own silliness. You see the rain beads upon the cars, upon each leaf and washing your outstretched fingers. Soon they will pull together, forming the puddles, opening up a whole new avenue of rain-related fun. Perhaps it isn't normal to love a rainy day so much, but who cares about normal anyway? You’re pretty sure "normal" is a made up thing.

Upon the umbrella come the playful sounds of dancing drops, and from it's rim comes the sight of their more relaxed cousins, dripping as if their soul purpose was to bring a sense of ease and calm to the day. And as the rain became more intense, it began to soak the bottom of each dark blue jean leg, deepening the denim to a stronger hue, bringing your brown boots to a glossy water-shine, becoming a kind of natural cocoon.

Each raindrop is a doorway into nature's heart, an invitation of sorts, a request for your soul to rejoin creation. In the rain there is a serenity, a sense of peace that offers to resonate with the peaceful elements of the soul. Walking among those drops is your meditation, a way to fully become present in the moment, a way to feel free.

There was a vibration coming to life in the back pocket of your jeans, cutting you out of your peaceful daydream in the rain. You stepped to the side to allow a cyclist to pass by and gave him a brief smile when he nodded his head in thanks. When you pulled out your phone to read the contact, you instantly smiled when seeing Mickey’s name on the screen.

“Okay, first off, hello. Second off, where the hell are you? Me and Hunter – okaayy – Hunter and I have been in the cafeteria since 7:15 in the goddamn morning,” she immediately went off as soon as you put the phone to your ear. “Also, did you take your meds today? My alarm went off as a reminder.”

“First off, hi back, Mick. Second off, it’s been 15 minutes and I’m five minutes away from the school. It’s fine if we don’t have breakfast today just once,” you laughed as you heard her scoff. “And thirdly, yes mom, I did take my meds. I actually have to get another refill for my BPD meds. Thank you for asking.”

“Yeah, yeah. Well, you better hurry. We have the last of your favorite yogurt and Hunter’s close to eating the damn thing,” you heard Mickey laugh as she shushes her significant other. “Also, be careful coming around the usual entrance. The school is doing some bogus construction to add a statue of the principal.”

“You’re shitting me!” You exclaimed, earning a dirty glare from a tiny senior citizen as she slowly walks passed you with her small cane. “What the hell did this prick do to earn that? Also, can you grab me a fruit cup too? I’ve been craving kiwi’s for some odd reason.”

“Well, he’s wicked rich and can basically do anything in this school and get away with it, literally. And there’s no fruit cups today, but there’s a bag of sliced apples and tangerine slices,” Mickey told you as she huffed, which you assume is her getting out of her seat to go back to the assortment of breakfast foods. “Ooh, there’s bagels too. I think they just added these.”

“Jesus Christ, this statue is stupid as hell,” you groaned and stood in front of the half built statue, your principal’s name on a gold plated plaque attached to the marble. “This guy really needs an ego boost, huh? And just tangerine slices then. I’m heading inside.”

“Alright, see you soon, baby doll.” She annoyingly kisses into the phone as you snorted and rolled your eyes at her antics.

Sliding your phone back into your pocket, you stood outside the entrance doors and shook the leftover raindrops from your yellow umbrella before closing it. You inhaled the fresh rain water for one last time before grasping onto the freezing cold and disgustingly wet doorknob and pulling it open to head inside. There was a small litter of students here and there; some reading new announcements on the bulletin board in the main hall; some sitting in the lounging chairs with laptops or textbooks open on their laps; some sitting on the ground with a half empty bottle of water beside their laps and phones in their hands, headphones in their ears. You terribly, annoyingly, and oddly missed this. You missed the bustle of students laughing and running down the halls. You missed it all, even if it has been two weeks.

You hear loud chatter coming from just ahead, so you know you’re about to enter the cafeteria area. Just as you’re about to do so, you stop in your tracks in front of a bulletin board. There were a few posters for new clubs, as well as study groups, upcoming announcements, room changes, and more. But one that really struck out to you was a new story writing group, specifically for writers or English majors. You felt a burst of excitement spread throughout your chest and settle into the pit of your stomach. You made sure to take a quick photo of the sheet beforr moving on into the cafeteria.

Almost immediately, you spotted Hunters straight platinum blonde hair and fiery streaks on one side while the other was icy blue. Sitting in front of them was Mickey, her hair curly and unruly, making you wonder if she rolled out of bed, threw some clothes on, and called it a day. You felt your cheek mucles twitch as your lips pulled up into a bright smile. Hunter was the first to notice you. They looked up at you passed Mickey’s shoulder and smiled so brightly that it made you reciprocate. They adorned bright orange eyeshadow with white eyeliner, making their eyes pop out even more. You loved how they didn’t cake on makeup, they kept it simple, yet so drop dead gorgeous.

“There she is, the man of the hour,” they announced and got up from their seat to pull you in for a warm, tight hug. “I missed you so much. I’m so sorry for not messaging you the entire break. We didn’t have any service whatsoever.” There was a crestfallen look on Hunter’s face and you held their cheeks so they wouldn’t look away.

“Look at me, don’t stress about it, okay? Did you at least have fun?” They nodded with a pout. You grinned and gave their forehead a kiss before pulling them in for another hug.

“Okay, first you’re late. And now you’re stealing my person. I see how it is,” Mickey smirked as you gave her the bird behind Hunter’s back as you both pulled away from the hug. “Hi Y/N.”

“Hi Michelle,” you responded in the same tone as you sat in an empty chair around the table. “Give me my tangerine, please.” She passed you the small cup of tangerine slices with a grin when you began eating them.

“You been eating three times a day?” She asked you, looking at you through her mane of curls rather than pushing her hair away. You shrugged and kept your eyes on the half empty cup in your hands. “Y/N..”

“I’m doing it little by little, Mick. And I’m starting to drink water too,” you blushed and laughed softly when her and Hunter began praising you. Praise was something you weren’t used to, but hearing it every now and then really gave you butterflies. “It’s nothing..”

“Are you kidding me?” Hunter laughed and reached over to lay a hand over yours. “This is amazing. This is progress and we’re both so very proud of you.”

“You’ve come a long way,” Mickey lightly bumped your shoulder with her knuckles as Hunter pulled away. “You should do a meal plan like I did when I had to get my weight back up, so that way you don’t forget to eat three times a day.”

“I don’t know.. I don’t exactly have the funds to buy a lot of groceries. I had to use over $100 of my food stamps cause almost everything in my kitchen was old,” you huffed and popped another tangerine slice into your mouth. “Plus, I’ve been busy with finding a job and paying for my therapy appointments and doing school work, and it’s all so fucking overwhelming.”

The first bell rang, signaling students to begin their walk to class with only a few more minutes to spare. You grabbed your shoulder bag and stood beside Mickey while she held onto Hunter’s hand. The three of you passed by a swarm of students; freshman’s and sophomores running by to get to the lecture halls early; juniors having their books and laptops already out and pressed to their chests; seniors loitering in the halls with their friends. Thankfully, you, Hunter, and Mickey had your first English class together.

“How about this?” Mickey began. “Hunter and I will help pay for your groceries.” She hushed you as you began to lightly protest. “Listen, you already got a lot on your plate. I’d be a really shitty best friend if I allowed you to deal with all that. So every week, we’re gonna swing by your place to drop off some stuff, okay? I’ll create a meal plan for you with your favorites, so that way we’re taking that worry for money off your back.”

“Mick, you don’t have to do that for me. Like I said, I’ll find a way,” you mumbled and shrugged as you walked up the long staircase to head up to the lecture halls. “I couldn’t do that to you guys.”

“Y/N,” Hunter stopped you three in the middle of the hallway. “We care about you and we don’t want you going down that negative route alone. We both have jobs and enough money to cover Mickey and I, and it’ll seriously make me the happiest if you let us do this, please.”

“Two more minutes until class begins,” the voiceover on the speaker spoke.

“Fine,” you sighed, feeling a smile pull your lips as you all continued walking to the English room. “I love you both. And I’m very grateful for you to do this for me.”

“We know,” Mickey told you as she kissed your cheek obnoxiously, causing you to groan and Hunter to laugh. “But in all seriousness, don’t be a stranger to asking, okay?”

You nodded and gave her a reassuring smile as you made your up the steps to your seats in the bottom middle row. Mickey sat in between you and Hunter as more students filled the class. There was light chatter and soft clatter as seats were pulled down and the folding desks were pulled up. You set your bag between your feet, being cautious of not getting it dirty from your boots. Pulling out your spiral notebook that had four sections, you neatly wrote the course name, your name, and the date. Nervously clicking your pen, you tried to block out the noise that had started to get a little too loud. Nibbling on your bottom lip to distract yourself, your feet began tapping on its own while you tapped your pen on your book. Mickey and Hunter were having a conversation of their own, so they didn’t notice the early signs of a small anxiety attack.

An invisible hand clasps over your mouth; an equally ghostly hypodermic of adrenaline pierces your heart, unloading in an instant. You feel your ribs heaving as if bound by ropes, straining to inflate your lungs. Your head is a carousel of fears spinning out of control, each one pushing your mind into blackness. You want to run; you need to freeze. Sounds that were near feel far away, like you’re no longer in the body that sits paralyzed in the cold seat. Your breath comes out in rapid, shallow breaths as you shake your head at yourself.

“No, no, no,” you harshly whisper as your bobbing knee gets almost frantic.

You felt the panic begin like a cluster of spark plugs in your abdomen. Tension grew your her face and limbs, your mind replaying the last attack. You held onto the sides of your head, your elbows digging into the hardness of your desk. Your only movement was the trembling of your limbs and salty tears darkening your sleeves. There you stayed, unaware of the numerous eyes watching you until Mickey turned and noticed your frantic state.

“Shit,” she hissed and slung her arm across your desk as the other wrapped around your shoulders. “I’m here, Y/N. It’s okay.. sshhh.. I’m right here.” She noticed a few students staring, to which she narrowed her eyes and snarled, “What the fuck are you looking at, dipshits?!” They immediately looked away after being caught. She turned her attention back on you. “What’s going on, huh?” Her voice was soft and soothing as she smoothed her hand down your hair.

“It-It’s so.. loud,” you hiccuped and covered your face even more when a sob escaped your lips, spit flying onto your hands as you felt your neck, cheeks, and ears heat up out of embarrassment and shame. “I can’t stop it, Mick. I-I can’t!”

Hunter sat on the other side of you, reaching down to get your back, shuffling their hand inside to pull out your earplugs and inhaler. They handed the earplugs fo Mickey while pressing the opening of the inhaler to your lips. “Come on, babe,” they quietly told you and tucked a few strands of hair behind your ears, lightly blowing on your flushed skin to cool it down. “There we go,” they gently said when you took two deep puffs of your inhaler while Mickey made sure your earplugs were snug inside your ears. You felt your lungs open up as the cold, bitter medicine settled on your tongue.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper and shook your head, wiping away the last of your tears. You sniffled and looked at Mickey and Hunter. “I-I don’t know what happened.. it just... happened.”

“It’s always unexplained, but don’t be sorry for something you can’t control, okay?” Mickey told you firmly while making sure you were looking into her eyes. “This doesn’t make you any less of a person.”

Hunter smiled and sat your bag back between your feet before moving to their seat next to Mickey. All the students had settled down, their conversations now a quiet murmur. You felt relieved as you pulled your earplugs out and slid them inside your protective case, making sure the lid was closed tight before shoving it into your bag. Mickey kept an eye on you the entire time, making sure no one triggered you. She sat with an elbow resting on the back her chair with her legs lightly spread.

“You’re man-spreading,” you quietly told her, laughing quietly when she flipped you off.

Suddenly, the metal doors opened and a man hurriedly walks in with an expensive looking leather messenger back over his shoulder. Your lips parted and you sat up straight in your seat when he gave the class a guilty smile. You’ve never seen him in the school. Not even before break. He must’ve been in a different department and just got transferred to the English center. He deeply intrigued you. You noticed the other girls in the class twirling their hair in a cliché way with the tips of their pens between their teeth. He wore all black, and it was so very different compared to what other professors wore. There was no sweater vest or button up shirt. He just wore a comfortable and soft looking black sweater with black jeans and black boots. His dirty blonde - almost brunette - hair was perfectly styled. He looked devastatingly handsome.

“Hello, my name is Professor Shepherd and I’m going to be your English teacher for the rest of the semester. Professor Winifred recently had her baby during winter break and shall be back for the next semester,” he gave another knee-weakening grin as he clapped his hands together. “Shall we get started?”

#AAAHHHH FIRST CHAPTER IS OUT!!! #we’re just getting started 😏 #duncan shepherd x reader #bill skarsgård x reader #professor!bill #professor!duncan #love triangle #complex desires series

[writings-of-dumpy]

VooDoo Doll: George Weasley x Reader blurb

A/N: This is actual garbage. Like it’s just bad. I’m so sorry.

Summary: Based on VooDoo Doll by 5SOS. George doesn’t really like Y/N, but suddenly he has feelings he can’t explain... until he can.

Fred and George played pranks on everyone, almost no exceptions. They tried to stay away from those much younger than themselves, but sometimes a know-it-all Slytherin first year would get on their nerves, so slipping puking pastilles into the morning pumpkin juice of that specific student would be deemed appropriate by them. Hey, they were getting him out of class at least.

Most of their pranks were directed at their fellow classmates or their siblings and their friends, and there was one in particular George liked to prank. Not because he disliked her, she was just an easy target being only a year younger than them and Ginny's best friend. She usually took it well, but George could tell by her frustrated sighs after a raincloud had followed her all day or her robes were suddenly made of feathers that the pranks were getting a bit more annoying throughout the years. Fred and George decided to give Y/N a break in their last year at Hogwarts especially with Dumbridge spoiling their fun. During the DA meetings, George found himself not able to stop himself from looking at Y/N. She performed the spells so well. He felt a feeling swell in his very soul and he couldn’t fight the urge to do one last prank on her before their time was up at Hogwarts.

“It’s brilliant,” Fred said with a grin when George proposed the idea. “Who’s the target?”

“The usual. She’s just a good sport about it,” George said and smiled devilishly. Fred raised a brow and shook his head and they made arrangements.

The following day, the Weasleys staked out the hallway Y/N always walks down to charms class. Her head was in a book and she didn’t even notice the trip wire that they had set up. Her ankles were caught in the wire and she nearly fell over as the wire tugged. George watched her look around on the floor, but then their fake dementor swooped in from the roof. The sound effect triggered and Y/N jumped, then screamed at the appearance of the shadowy figure. It swooped down and then the twins revealed themselves to Y/N as the perpetrators behind the childish prank. Y/N looked terrified, then annoyed when she saw them sniggering in the end of the hallway.

“Very funny,” she said sarcastically and walked away quickly. Fred and George high-fived and made their way to their class. George noticed that he hadn't seen Y/N as much throughout the day today as he usually does and bu the time lunch rolled around, he was concerned. He looked to where Ginny and Y/N usually sat and chatted during the lunch hour and saw that both of them were gone.

“Hey, where's our sister?” Fred asked Ron as if he were thinking the same as George. Ron shrugged.

“Maybe she's comforting Y/N. I heard that Y/N was really upset and crying in the girl's bathroom,” Hermione informed them without looking up from her papers. A wash of guilt fell over George and he looked at Fred, who appeared to also be feeling slightly guilty. After lunch, George went to find his sister, but had no luck and wished that he could apologize to Y/N.

When Fred and George returned to the Burrow early, Molly wasn't surprised, but was slightly disappointed that her prankster sons weren't going to graduate Hogwarts. Luckily their misbehavior was swept under the rug at the ministry and the pair were able to keep their wands and continue practicing magic.

“Would you two like to meet them at the train?” Molly offered on the morning the Hogwarts Express was to return students to their homes. Fred and George smiled and nodded having missed their two younger siblings.

“Oh, Harry and Y/N will be staying with us this summer, just to let you know,” Molly said as the train pulled into the station.

“What?” George said in surprise. Y/N was a name he hadn't heard in a few months, but she wasn't very far from his thoughts. He still felt bad about their last interaction and how it may have effected Y/N. He never plucked up the courage to talk to her about it, and she kept her distance after that.

“Hi mum!” Ron greeted Molly with a hug.

“Hello there boys,” Ginny greeted her brothers with a warm smile and hugs all around.

“Oh, it's so good to see you, Y/N dear! And Harry, welcome back, my boy,” Molly said with a  smile and hugged them.

George wanted to say something to Y/N, but their greeting was cut short as they were all ushered out of King's Cross and hurried back to Diagon Alley to use the Floo system. It wasn't until they were all back at the Burrow that George was able to have a moment to talk to Y/N.

“So how was the rest of the year?” he asked her. She raised a brow at him.

“It was horrible up until the very end when Umbridge finally just went missing,” Y/N said. “But... well, poor Harry.”

George nodded as he had heard about Harry's godfather and order member. “I'm sorry I left.”

“I'm not. Umbridge deserved it, and it looks like you two have been doing better than you were at school, so... it worked out,” Y/N said with a smile.

After a few weeks had passed and the summer assignments were complete, they had all taken to playing quidditch on the large property. Hermione and Y/N sat off to the side while the rest of the Weasleys plus Harry played. The match was well underway and Fred and George reprised their beater roles to help their sister and brother become better keepers and chasers. After the quaffle had been passed around a few times and a few bludgers had zipped around, George felt himself gazing in Y/N and Hermione's direction. His eyes lingered for a bit too long on the way the sun hit Y/N's hair and made her eyes shine when she smiled. Behind her, he saw a bludger heading straight towards her head.

“Watch out!” George said to them, which caused Y/N and Hermione to look around in confusion. Acting quickly, he zoomed his broom behind her and beat the ball into submission.

“Finite incantatem,” George said with a wave of his wand and the balls dropped to the ground with a loud thud.

“Well that's it for today I think,” Ron said as they all flew to the ground and dismounted.

“Are you alright?” George asked Y/N, who looked at him in shock.

“Um, yeah... Thank you,” she said and smiled politely at him.

George felt his cheeks get hot and he nodded.

“What's gotten into you, mate?” Fred asked once they retired to their rooms that night.

“What do you mean?” George responded.

“You just seem... distracted. Like you kept looking over at Y/N the whole match and last week you nearly dropped a stack of dishes when she walked by you. She slip you a love potion?” Fred teased.

“What? No,” George scoffed. He remembered that incident well, though. Y/N had just woken up and George was so distracted by how attractive she looked in an oversized shirt and shorts that he felt his whole body go numb and he nearly shattered the plates he was carrying to put away.

Well into the night, George found himself thinking about the light brushes that Y/N and he had shared throughout their time at Hogwarts and he could still feel how soft and warm her skin was in the places they had connected. He felt embarrassed as if she were watching him obsess over such a small gesture like a prank to get her attention even though she was in the other room. He kept imagining her in his mind, and he remembered several times now that he had done this exact routine at night. He couldn't help but think of nothing but her.

He rolled over and saw that Fred had fallen asleep. He didn't know what time it was, but the house was silent so he assumed late. His stomach made an ungodly sound that signaled for him to feed it and he happily complied. He glanced at the clock and was astonished to find it was nearly two in the morning. Had he really been so involved in his thoughts about Y/N that he hadn't noticed several hours passing? He opened the refrigerator and found a small sandwich up for grabs. As he closed the door, he saw a small figure outlined in the darkness and nearly screamed his soul out of his body.

He pointed his lit wand at the figure to find Y/N in her sleepwear standing next to the counter with the glasses cabinet open.

“Jesus fucking christ, don't scare me like that,” George exhaled.

“Sorry, I was really thirsty..” Y/N chuckled. George watched as she moved about the kitchen, his hunger forgotten for the moment. His eyes trailed along her body many times as he took in every bit of her he could.

“Can I help you?” she asked after taking a drink from the cup.

Without thinking and fatigue beginning to cloud his judgment, George responded, “Tell me where you're hiding your voodoo doll.”

“Pardon?” Y/N said in an almost offended tone.

“I can't sleep, there's pins in my head in my heart in my chest and I can't breathe around you. What have you done to me?” George asked as he walked closer to her. By the end of his sentence, Y/N's back was against the wall and George's eyes connected with hers through the dim light of his wand that rested on the counter.

“Is this another cruel prank?” Y/N asked.

George's heart clenched. Cruel prank? Did he really hurt her? He hadn't meant to, he wanted her to laugh with them like she used to. George shook his head.

“If you think for even one second that your face doesn't haunt my dreams and that you're the reason for my heart beating at all or that you're not the motivation for me to breathe... you're dead wrong,” George said with his heart in his throat. George's eyes searched hers as he leaned closer, but he found no resistance. He acted purely on instinct and kissed her mouth with a conviction that he could only muster through inhibition of his doubts and fears.

She kissed him back and for a moment, time stopped for George. It was as if the world had been completed when their lips collided and moved together. George felt Y/N pull away from him and he opened his eyes to find hers tearful.

“You're ruthless, George Weasley,” she said with a small sob. George's heart shattered as she walked away from him and up the stairs.

~*~

Y/N couldn't believe the audacity of that red-headed heartthrob. The last interaction they had was a terrifying dementor prank, then he abandons the school and now suddenly he's a proper gentleman asking how her day has gone and saving her from a trip to the emergency room during a quidditch practice and then kissing her in the kitchen? Y/N's heart was racing, but she couldn't wake Ginny up to tell her. Ginny could never find out about Y/N's massive crush on George in spite of her heart being broken. She felt bad for calling him ruthless, but there was no better way to describe such a horrible joke. He had to be joking, there's no way he could feel so strongly for Y/N, not after all the years of torment he put her through. Y/N curled up under the covers and only let a few tears of frustration escape. She longed for his lips on hers again, but wouldn't dare let that show.  Maybe she'd wake up and this entire night would be a dream.

That was not the case. Y/N woke up and remembered the feeling of George's lips against hers vividly. The sun shone through the window and Y/N could hear Ginny start to stir. Sighing to herself, Y/N got up from her bed and got dressed. Throughout the day, she and George would make eye contact briefly, and Y/N's heart ached to talk to him, but she couldn't find it in herself to play into his game. She was convinced he was playing a prank on her, not that he had feelings for her the way she did for him. By the end of the day, she could tell George's irritation growing.

“I need to talk to you,” he said after dinner in a low voice. Y/N was hesitant but didn't dare deny alone time with George.

They went to the back yard and sat down on the patio. Y/N had noticed Ginny's sly smirk and raised eyebrow at the two of them when Y/N had exited the room with George, but Y/N ignored the glances.

“What is it?” Y/N asked once the door had shut.

“I meant what I said. My feelings haven't changed once. You've become my entire world, I need you to know that,” George said.

Y/N looked into his eyes and found remorse and a warmth that she wanted to envelop herself in. She nodded in response and urged him to continue with raised brows.

“I want to be yours... if you'll have me,” he finished after a moment.

Y/N was taken off guard and her nerves seemed to get the better of her because she felt sick to her stomach and her mouth went dry. Her mind screamed with glee, and she was sure the smile she formed was involuntary as she nodded. George grinned and pulled her into a close embrace.

#george weasley x reader

[thiswasinevitableid]

winter prompt fill 5, indruck, nsfw?

5: your car slid into a snowbank and i’m the mechanic that comes to tow you

Two hours.

Two fucking hours, that’s how far this guy is from town. But because he’s three hours from the one to the west, it’s Duck’s company that got the call from AAA for a tow. On night three of what's forecasted as a week-long snowstorm.  And because it’s that kind of job, the call came in at 4:45 pm. At least he’ll get overtime for this. 

Being out of Kepler means the radio has real stations, half of them playing blocks of pop hits and the other half blaring Christmas carols. Duck doesn’t mind either, settles on listening to crooning about sleigh bells and winter wonderlands as he tries to keep the truck from sliding into snow piles. 

He’s all prepared to be aggravated at whoever was clueless enough to get themselves stranded and stick him with the four hour round-trip, but the closer he gets to his destination the more he sympathizes. Because this is a rural two-lane highway and not a major through-road, the maintenance is spotty at best. Couple that with the still-falling snow and he’s just glad the guy was in the kind of accident where he could still make a call after it.

The last half-hour he’s down to thirty miles an hour, lets out a groan of relief when the dead  taillights of a car reflect back at him. Once he positions the truck and hops out, he rolls his eyes; the sedan doesn’t have snow tires or chains on, something even a person with a Nevada license plate should have known to carry north.

Duck wonders if being unprepared is a habit when the driver steps out in far too light a coat for the weather, shuddering and stuttering out an ���Th-thank g-goodness.”

“Guessin you’re Mr. Wilde?” 

Pale hair falls over red glasses as the man nods. With his hood up, he looks owlish, guarded. He’s all limbs and edges, and Duck can’t help but think of a stray cat that needs a warm bed and some food. 

“Go ahead and get up into the passenger seat. Heat ain’t runnin, but it’s sure as heck warmer than out here. I’ll get her hitched up and we can get going.”

Another nod, the man hunching forward as he scurries into the truck. This is the easy part, getting the damaged car hooked to the truck and freeing it from the snow. The hard part comes when they turn towards town, two hours of darkness and icy roads ahead of them. 

“I’m so sorry you had to come all this way. I, ah, did not intend to crash, nor to do so this far from help.”

“Hey, it’s what we’re here for. Gonna be slow goin on the way back, since it’ll be real fuckin embarassin to call a tow truck for a tow truck.”

A snicker, “I picture them as growing exponentially larger, like nesting dolls. A tow truck towing a tow truck towing a tow truck towing a car would be the size of a semi.”

Duck chuckles, “Yeah, it’d be a sight. And a fuckin nightmare for anyone who got behind it.”

The cab is warming nicely, so his passenger pulls back his hood. In the darkness he can tell the pale hair is metallic silver, and there’s a hell of a bruise blooming on his forehead. Duck’s never seen anyone quite like him, and if their survival didn’t depend on his concentration, he’d spend the next hour studying him.

“Damn, got banged up in the crash huh.”

“Yes.” The man gingerly touches the bruise, sighs, “It’s my own fault for being careless.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, nearly spun out on the way to get you from the damn black ice.”

“I wish I could say that was the sole cause, but I was also asleep.”

Duck bites back the urge to scold him; he wants him to be comfortable around him and besides, even if Duck is having a crappy night, this guy is having an even worse one.

“Wouldn’t be the first person who thought they could make it one more town before stoppin for the night and was wrong.”

“True. It’s just that, ah, I’ve been driving three days straight without sleep.”

“Jesus Christ, you on the lamb or somethin?”

In his periphery, he swears the taller man flinches. 

“No. Just having bad luck with a chaser of poor choices.”

“Gotcha.” Duck drums on the wheel, “so, uh, Mr. Wilde, what do you do when you ain’t stuck in the snow?”

“I draw. And Indrid is fine…” he peers awkwardly at Duck’s name tag, “Duck.”

“It’s a nickname.”

“Ah. Are you a mechanic as well as a driver?”

“Yep. Do it part-time when I’m not workin at the national forest. Friend of mine, Ned, runs the garage attached to the Cryptonomica.”

“I recall seeing that when I drove through. Quite the Jacks of all trades, you two,”

“Most of Kepler’s got more’n one job. It’s the kind of place that’s always losin fundin or people, just barely stayin afloat.”

“One sympathizes. Do you like your jobs?”

“Trained in forestry, so it’s always what I’ve wanted to do. The mechanic stuff,” Duck shrugs, “nice workin with my hands and beein able to help folks out. And I ain’t half bad at it.”

“I certainly appreciate your efforts. I--wait, hold on, I’m sorry but I need to…” he turns up the radio, playing what Duck assumed was Santa Baby from the melody.

“He is saying ‘buddy.’ What in the world? Why would you change it?”

“Can’t have the fella in the red velvet suit thinkin you’re gay.” Duck jokes. 

“Heaven forbid.” Indrid smiles, and Duck likes the expression so much he decides to see if he can get him to do it again.

“You wanna hear a slightly inappropriate joke?”

“Absolutely.”

“How come Santa don’t have any kids?”

“How come?”

“Because he only comes once a year and it’s down a chimney.”

There’s a beat and then Indrid guffaws, covering his face with his hands as his whole body shakes with amusement, “that was horrible, do you have any more?”

Thank god he’s got a wealth of bad jokes tucked in his brain. When he exhausts those he and Indrid trade brainteasers, stopping now and then to talk about their lives. The taller man asks Duck about his jobs, about the woods, and the town, and offers a few anecdotes in exchange. Duck senses they’re about they’re set in a time in his life that’s further away than Indrid would like. 

Indrid also readily shares the snacks from his small backpack. Duck eats what he can while still safely piloting the car. Then nearly takes them across the yellow line when Indrid unwraps a Starburst with his tongue, and prays the man will stay in Kepler long enough for Duck to take him to dinner.

-------------------------------------

Given he was expecting a painfully awkward trip at best, Duck’s friendliness is a welcome surprise. Now that they’ve been stuck in the car together for close to two hours, Indrid is confident saying this is most fun he’s had talking to someone in a long time, even before things went all to hell. 

It helps that Duck is the picture you’d get if you googled “Indrid Cold’s type”; sturdy, handsome in an unassuming way, undoubtedly pleasant to cuddle, with muscles that Indrid is positive could hold him up against a wall for at least a few minutes. In another life, one that’s so far away he fears he imagined it, he’d wait until they were done with the business portion of this evening, then slip Duck a card with his name in silver letters and his hotel room number on the back. The man is so genuine in his kindness too, Indrid feeling safer in the dark with him than he’s felt in years.

Which makes him feel even worse about what he’s going to do.

“Not too far now.” Duck turns the windshield wipers up a notch, “thank fuck for that.”

Indrid curls forward, holding his stomach, “I, ah, I really hate to say this, but I’m afraid my gas station lunch is coming back up.”

“Shit, okay, lemme pull over.” Duck guides the truck onto the side of the road, “do what you gotta do.”

His hands are on his lap, keys still dangling from the ignition. Indrid lunges over, grabbing them and trying to shove Duck into the door in one go. The mechanic is too fast, yanking the keys to his chest.

“What the fuck man!?”

“I’m so sorry about this!”

“Then fuckin stop!” Duck kicks, misses, and Indrid knees him in the stomach as gently as he can.

“I can’t, I need the truck.”

“Are you fuckin car-jackin me right now?”

“It’s not personal.” He gets the keys away, only for the world to flip ninety degrees as Duck tackles him backwards.

“It sure feels like it is!”

Indrid hoped that his survival instincts would kick in hard enough to make up for the exhaustion and that coupled with the element of surprise would bring him success. Instead, his limbs have no power behind them, and all he can do is curse when the driver flips him onto his stomach, trapping his hands behind his back and pinning him with his body weight. 

“Fuck.” It’s a pathetic noise for a pathetic man.

“Explain. Now.” Duck growls.

“I, I, you were right when asked if I was on the lamb.”

“....fuckin what?”

“It was a set up, and I finally, finally got free, and, and I will not go back, I can’t, but if I’m out a car I need a replacement and-”

“And you almost stole a truck that’s got a goddamn tracker in it.”

“Oh.” He presses his face to the seat in shame.

“Somethin tells me you ain’t a seasoned crook.”

“I’m not a criminal at all! I have no idea what I’m doing. I was just going to drive and drive until I hit the coast, I hadn’t even decided what to do after. I, I’m sorry, I waited until we got close to town so you wouldn’t be too far away to walk home safely. I, ah, I wasn’t prepared for having to do this to someone I like.”

Duck shifts above him, mutters, “what the fuck do I do now” to himself, and tightens his hold on Indrid’s wrists. 

Indrid whimpers, realizing with horror that his body responded to the mechanics of the fight but not it’s context.

Duck freezes at the noise, and when Indrid hazards a peek the mechanic is staring down in disbelief. 

“Are you fuckin hard from this?”

There’s no use in lying, he’s faced worse humiliation than this, “Some. Not on purpose. I, ah, I enjoy rough treatment.”

Duck’s face fills with bitter amusement, “And I like givin it. But not to fellas who nearly steal my truck. Fuckin figures the first guy to flirt with me is doin it for some other reason.”

“That’s not true, my plan involved no flirting.” Indrid huffs, “I was flirting because I think you’re handsome.”

More pressure on his back as Duck leans down to whisper in his ear, grinding against his ass, “Yeah? Were you hopin I’d fuck you in here? Or over the hood when we got back?”

“Maybe.” He manages a smirk.

“Hopin I’ll fuck you now?”

Indrid nods, but Duck doesn’t notice. The mechanic sits all the way back, releasing his hands, “too damn bad, because unlike you, I only take things with permission.”

“C-consider it granted.” 

The hand finds his back again, but instead of shoving or grabbing it strokes up and down, “Indrid, I’m serious. I ain’t doin anythin if the only reason you’re offerin is because you think I’ll hurt you if you don’t.”

“I’m not. I want this, Duck, I want to be with you.” He’s going back to jail one way or another after this, unwilling to consider the thought of hurting Duck to get the keys. He’d rather go back with one happy memory and a few minutes of fun freshly stored in his mind. 

There’s silence, Duck’s hand still as he thinks. Then it comes down hard on Indrid’s ass, “Okay sugar, happy to oblige you. Besides, seems to me you owe me an apology for that sorry excuse for a car theft.” 

Indrid moans loudly when Duck hauls onto his elbows and knees, though it’s the pet name that hits deeper than any of the much-welcome pain. The waistband of his dollar store sweatpants hits his thighs, there’s a pop of something plastic, and then a slick finger is teasing between his asscheeks. 

“Vaseline. Great for keepin your skin from cracking in the cold.”

The finger disappears and he whines, pushing his ass back and getting it slapped so hard he yelps. 

“Nice try. But this ain’t for you, it’s for me. Don’t got a condom and only got a tiny bit of this left and it ain’t enough to fuck you full on.”

“It’s alright, I like the pain, you could use spit or-”

“Nope” another slap, “that turns into the bad kinda pain real quick. Now open your fuckin legs.”

Indrid does so, gasps happily when Duck slides his lubed-up cock between his thighs. 

“Close ‘em and keep ‘em closed. Good, ohfuckyeah that’s good.” The thrusts are already fast, Ducks hands holding his hips in place, “fuck, tell you what sugar, you may be a shitty crook but you’re a damn good lay.”

“Yes.” Indrid moans, scrabbling for a hold on the upholstery.

“Shit, you do like it rough. Like it when I talk like that?” One hand comes down, petting Indrid’s head and brushing his hair away from where it’s stuck over his eyes. 

“So much, Duck, please, please, more, I want more AHgod!” Tears slip past his glasses as Duck hits the right side of his ass over and over again. He’s been treated like a criminal mastermind, made miserable because of it, so being nothing more than an eager piece of ass is a welcome change.

“Then I oughta tell you this is what you get for tryin to get one over on me. Think you can throw my ass out in the cold? Gonna turn yours so red you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

He’s so hard it isn’t even funny, and beneath the wonderful cycle of pain-relief-pain-relief his mind chants safesafesafesafe.

“Fuck, Indrid, I’m so fuckin lucky you tried that stunt on me, can’t wait to cum all over that cute little ass, ohyeah, fuck, fuckyeah.” He pulls out, cum spurting onto Indrid’s ass and legs and Indrid hears his own voice saying “thank you” as he does. 

As he’s contemplating what form of begging will earn him an orgasm, he’s flipped onto his back, one calloused hand pressing him down by the shoulder while the other jerks him off. He squeaks and squirms, one palm thwacking into the door as his right leg catches the steering wheel. 

“Sensitive, sugar?”

“Yes.”

“Shoulda thought of that before you bent over for me.”

“TechnicallyAH, you, you’re the one who bent me over.”

Duck jerks him extra hard in reply, grinning. The sight of him is just the right balance of menacing and protective that Indrid only needs two more bucks of his hips before he’s cumming. The mechanic works him through it, squeezing him roughly just to hear him whimper (Indrid’s certain of it).

He sits back and starts putting his clothes in order as Indrid lays there, panting from exertion and the weight of reality on his chest. 

“I don’t suppose you have something I can, ah, wipe off with before you take me to the station?” He asks softly.

“I’m not taking you to the police, Indrid.”

“What? Why?” He bolts up, his mind screaming that he shouldn’t ask too many questions lest it make Duck change his mind. 

“I’m not sure what kinda guy fucks someone and then hands them over to the cops, but I’m damn sure I don’t wanna be one.”

“You’d do that without even knowing the full truth?”

“Wouldn’t mind if you told me.” Duck starts the car, adds “seatbelt” as he pulls back onto the road. 

Indrid gets his pants up and buckles in, huddling in on himself, “As you probably guessed, my name isn’t Wilde. It’s Indrid Cold. Wilde was the man I stole that car from, who also had a very nice AAA plan it seems. I am, or was, an architect. Quite talented, if I do say so myself. And many other people said so, once upon a time. My firm got a contract with a certain large city to design and help build a bridge. I was head of design, and I was certain this would be the project that made my name. It did. Just not how I hoped.”

Duck slows down as they reach the edge of Kepler. 

“Have you ever heard of the Silverlake Bridge?”

“Ain’t that the one that collapsed a few years agooh, oh shit was that your bridge?”

“Yes. Halfway through the project, I became concerned that certain elements of the design would not be as stable as they needed to be and might collapse without warning. The higher ups said it would require a larger budget to do the new, far safer design, but gave me the go ahead to finish my proposal of the securer model. They accepted that design, and I thought that was the end of it. Turns out, they funneled the money needed for the better bridge into their own pockets, both my bosses and the representatives from the city. Unbeknownst to me, they built the weaker bridge. When it collapsed I” he takes a deep breath, the memories surfacing in a tidal wave, “I was shocked, and prepared to accept responsibility, as I could not understand how the design failed. It was only when the investigation revealed how it failed that I understood my warnings had been ignored and I was being set up as a fall guy. Not only for the collapse, but for the missing funds, my bosses swearing up one side and down the other that they’d given the money to me to manage. They’d had this planned for months, and so had built our communication in such a way that I had no proof the money hadn’t come to me. Thus I was blamed, tried, and convicted, and in the minds of many I am responsible for the death of 67 people.”

The engine shuts off and he looks up to see them in an auto garage. Duck is turned to him, face so sad and sympathetic that Indrid could almost believe..

“You think I’m telling the truth.”

“I know you are. Not sure how, but even though I ain’t much of a liar myself, I can usually tell when someone is bullshittin me.”

“I don’t want to go back to prison.” 

“You won’t.”

“Duck I, I can’t ask you to hide me, that could put you in danger of arrest.”

“There’s all of four cops in Kepler, and I’d bet my life no one here could pick you out of a line-up as a ‘disgraced architect Indrid Cold.’ And if we need a cover story, Ned’s got a knack for ‘em.”

“We?”

Duck cups his cheek and Indrid leans into it, “You and me. Indrid, I think fate is a load of bullshit, but I can’t shake the feelin me pickin you up tonight was meant to be. Lemme help you, please.”

Indrid sets his hand on Duck’s own, “Okay. Ah, where do I stay? I have fifty dollars left.”

“Could stay with me if you want. No strings attached.”

“Is that your way of letting me down gently?”

“My way of saying you don’t gotta fuck me to have a place to live. If you wanna fuck me just because, say the word and I’ll rail you into next week.”

“I’d like both those things so very much. Though right now all I want is to sleep.”

Duck leans forward, kissing him so chastely that the following lovebite is all the more thrilling.

“In that case, sugar, let’s get you home.”

#Indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #winter fills #mechanic au #on the run

[the-dead-skwad]

Independent Part 2 X Tig  Trager X Reader

Here is some smut.. I haven't wrote smut in a very long time so I’m sorry. More parts to follow. 

Summary : Waking up after the party, You make friends with Gemma.

Smut, mentions of death and abuse but only slightly.

The pounding in your head was insane. You tried to open you eyes but you weren't sure of you were ready to. Your head was on Tig's chest and he breathed slowly making you feel so calm. Suddenly you realized he did this all the time, he probably didn't want you here. There was a chance you could creep off and not wake him. There's nothing worse when a one night stand doesn't go home. It was a shame because you did like him but like you said this is what he always did. 

Opening your eyes the light blasting through the windows stopped you for a second. You placed a hand on your head. A lump on your head cause you to take in a sharp breath. Tig moved slightly making you freeze. 

He started to stroke you arm "You okay?" 

"Yeah..." You paused for a second "Where did this lump on my head come from?" 

"You don't remember headbutting a croweater?" 

"Oh god yeah, fuck my head hurts." 

He opened his eyes and looked at you making you melt inside "I'm not surprised." He chuckled "She dropped like a sack of shit." 

 "I'm not a fan of girls like that. Did you call her a croweater?" 

"It's what we call the girls that hang around begging off us." 

"Lovely.. I'm sorry by the way." 

He frowned at you "What for?" 

"I was going to leave, there's nothing worse than someone hanging around after a one night stand." 

You could see it had taken him back a bit "Oh.. well I actually wanted you to stay." 

"Really?" You ran your hand up and down his bare chest "No offence I just assumed you got with a croweater then kicked them out by the morning." 

"None taken doll." Kissing you on top of the head "You're right that’s exactly what I do. But you know," He was choosing his words carefully "I think your nice. I kinda like ya." 

Lifting your head up you raised your eyebrows at him "I kinda like you too." 

"I also really like this." He traced his hand down your body and stroked your pussy. 

Taking a deep breath in you leaned into his ear "Oh really?" You whispered. 

"Oh yeah" He spoke against your lips. With out any hesitation he delved his fingers into you making you moan. As hi picked up the pace your back arched. 

"Please" You begged. 

"What's that doll?" 

"Please fuck me." 

A devilish grin spread across hos face "A you wish. Turn over." 

You flipped over so you were on all fours, face in the pillow, arms out in front so you could get your ass as high in the air as you could. He stroked your pussy again, your whole body ached for him. You were about beg again when he slid right in you. "Oh my god!" You almost screamed. 

At first he was slow, painfully slow. As he started to speed up he suddenly grabbed hold of your body and lifted you against his. He bit you shoulder and massaged your breasts. "Oh fuck. You moaned when he just hit the right spot. Faster and faster you bodies moved together. Feeling the knot build in your stomach, you knew other people would be in the club but you couldn't help but scream. 

"That's it baby." His breath sent shivers down you spine.

You could feel it building up and up "I'm gonna.... Oh fuck!" You clenched around him as you rode out your orgasm.

"Holy shit!" He called out as he spilled into you. 

Your sweaty naked bodies dropped onto the bed. "Fuck.. that was good!" You said trying to catch your breath. 

"Oh hell yeah." He looked over to you and kissed your head "How's your head feeling?" 

"I need a coffee and a cig." 

He laughed at you "There's a small kitchen behind the bar. Go grab a coffee from there. I'll jump in the shower then come out to you." 

"Okay." You smiled sweetly. Rolling out of bed you tried to locate your clothes that had been thrown around the room. Every time you bent over you got dizzy. "I don't know if its the lump or the alcohol but my head is fucked. He just lay in the bed tangled in the sheets laughing at you. "Can you stop staring at me with those beautiful eyes?" 

"I can't help it doll.. Look at that ass." 

You rolled your eyes as you put on your last boot. "Right," you said as you picked up your bag. You lit a cig and smiled at him "Go shower, I'll meet you out there." As the door closed behind you all you heard was "Christ that ass."

Down the hall way looked totally normal but then you rounded the corner and the entire club was scattered of bikers, strippers and beer bottles. "Holy shit." You laughed. Trying to step over all the bodies splayed across the floor to get to the bar you thought everyone was cleaned passed out.

"Hey." A female voice from behind the bar scared the shit out of you.  

"Holy fuck!" 

She smiled at you "Sorry sweetheart. You want a coffee?" 

"Oh yes please." You took a seat at the bar. 

"You're Y/N right?" 

"Yeah, I'm assuming you're Gemma?" 

"That's right. You own the studio next to the barbers?" 

You lit another cigarette "Yep, me and my sister." 

"I knew your mom. She was such a lovely women."  

"Yeah she was." You leaned on the bar for second and a whiff of alcohol smacked you on the face. "Oh jesus, I feel rough." 

"Christ girl, that's a fucking golf ball on your head." She pointed at you "What the fuck did you do?" 

Shaking your head at yourself "I headbutted a croweater." 

She laughed at you "Good on you.. I take it she was all over the guy you came with." 

"You could say that.. She stuck her tits right in his face and he said no." 

Spinning around fast she looked at you "What? You managed to find one of these guys to say no to croweater tits? Who?" She passed you your coffee.

"Tig." 

"You fucking what? That I've never seen.... No offence." 

"Yeah I know right, I like him though. He's so far been real nice to me."

She looked at her coffee for a second "Look hun, I like you. I knew your mom, you have a good business, I know we do protection on your store but it's tough."

"What do you mean?" 

"Life with these guys is dangerous, it's tough and it can really wear you down. You gotta be a strong girl to be an old lady." She paused for a second "Were you the reason there was a knocked out bleeding man on our parking lot yesterday.  

"Yeahhh that was me. I know it's hard but I already had to deal with the death of my parents, abuse of my sister, building my own business, I know how to look after myself. I have done for years." 

She smiled "Good girl." 

Warm hands snaked around your body and he breathed in "Hey gorgeous." 

You closed your eyes for a second "Hi." 

"What you doing Gemma? Checking she's good enough for me?" 

"Hey!" You slapped his arm. 

"I have no idea what you're talking about." 

Tig spun you around on the chair "What you doing today?" 

You shrugged "It's my day off. I need to make sure my sisters okay though and I really need a long shower." 

He hummed slightly "Want to meet for lunch?" He kissed you gently.

"How about I go get a shower, walk my dog and you come round for pizza and a film? My head is banging I need to chill out." 

"Perfect." He kissed you again before you jumped off the stool. 

"See you later." You winked at him as you left the club house, passing Clay on the way out.

He walked into the bar as Gemma shouted to Tig. "Give me a hand cleaning! At least peel some of these fuckers off the floor." 

He shouted back as he walked back to his room "I can't.. I got a hot date!" 

She shook her head as Clay approached her "What did he just say?" 

"He has a date." 

"With? The tattoo girl?" 

"Yes the tattoo girl.. Her names Y/N. He even turned down a croweater for her" She leaned in and gave him a kiss.

"How the fuck did she trap him?" 

"Well... She came here yesterday, knocked her sisters abuser out with a baseball bat and then she headbutted a croweater and knocked her clean out. I think he's head over heels." 

"Ha... That'll do it."

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #tig trager #alex tig trager #alex trager imagine #tig imagine #tig trager imagine #tig trager smut #tig smut

[untilmynextstory]

Chapter Six: The Separation of Crows

WORD COUNT - 4K

AUTHOR NOTE: So Alma’s is going to be going through it. So please be patient while she works out all the trauma she has endured. 

FIVE YEARS LATER

For the first time in years, Alma is going to fully acknowledge her ex-husband. Since their divorce things had been rocky between them. They never had fully recovered from the events that took place that led to their divorce. 

They are civil when it comes to anything regarding Nathan. 99.9 % of their conversations revolve around their son. Outside of the first year of the divorce and working out the distance, they had been able to work out a schedule that didn’t hurt Nathan’s relationship with his father. Jax got their son for the summer and every holiday and Nathan stayed with her for the school year. 

Alma can say she is proud that she and Jax have managed to co-parent as well as they have. She had thought it would be harder. She expected so much resistance. Yet, Jax has been over generous through the years and she knows he is overcompensating for the guilt he still feels. 

She feels bad that she and Jax have turned into strangers. 

She knows exactly when it happened. 

Wendy had given birth to a beautiful baby boy. After getting the paternity test, it turned out Jax was not the father. She had been happy for Jax if that made any sense. She knows that he thought it could be the start in mending things. Instead it just brought up old wounds as it didn’t change that he had slept with another woman, one of many, who could've been pregnant with his child. That had thrown Alma down a spiral she had managed to avoid and after that short and clipped phone call. She had a night out in the town where she met Vitaly Petrova. The man that would become her husband. 

She knows the only reason Jax came to the wedding was because of Nathan. He would have his boy for a month while she and Vitaly went on their honeymoon. Since her wedding night, any type of thread they had on a relationship evaporated. Jax created a bigger distance she couldn’t even begin to build a bridge too. She knows she is at fault considering what exactly conspired between the two on her wedding night. 

She knows he is going to have questions. It’s been 2 years since she has been back to Charming. She only made a trip to Opie’s homecoming party. When Nathan comes to stay with his dad, she and Jax always meet halfway. 

She knows Nathan is going to be mad, but she is doing what is best for him. That is her job as her mother. What hurts is having to follow the familiar route to hers and Jax’s first home. Nathan had mentioned in passing that Jax found the second house too big - too empty. The house is for Nathan when he is older and wants to come back to Charming. 

Nothing really has changed except for the vines that are overtaking the exterior. She finds Jax outside restoring a bike. He looks shocked to see her as Nathan isn’t due to visit until June for the summer. It’s May. 

Alma makes note in the changes of her ex-husband though. He had chopped off all his hair. He has a close cropped shave and it seems he has added at least 15 pounds in muscles since the last time she saw him. 

He doesn’t show any reaction to her showing up unannounced. He never shows any reaction towards her anymore. His eyes scan her car before her appearance. She isn’t all dolled up as she usually is. Her now blonde hair is in a sloppy bun and she is wearing a simple red summer dress. 

“Hey, Jax,” she greets. 

He doesn’t say anything as he begins wiping his hands off with a rag. 

“Everything okay with Nathan?” He asks. 

“Yeah. Everything is fine.”

Jax raises his eyebrow. “If it were, you wouldn't be here in Charming unannounced.”

“I wanted to talk about changing Nathan’s visiting schedule.”

Jax nods his head. “You and the Russian going on vacation?” That was another thing. Jax never referred to Vitaly by his name. Just the Russian. She knows Jax hates her husband for many reasons and now she is potentially creating another one. 

“Actually, I was thinking Nathan should start high school in Charming. I want him to come back living here.”

“What?” Her ex-husband replies visibly confused. 

“I think with high school, it may be best for him to be with you. I know the visitation...it’s hard for you.”

Jax sighs. “He wanted to be with you, Al. It’s hard, but it’s not like I don’t see him. We talk almost every day.”

“I just want to do this for you.”

Jax stares at her directly in her eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Alma hides the panic. She has gotten good at lying in the past three years. She knows she is risking a lot by not hiding her eyes with sunglasses, but it would put Jax on even more of an alert. 

“Everything is okay, Jax.” She assures him. 

Jax doesn’t press. He folds his arms across his chest. “I mean it’s not like I am going to have a problem with my son wanting to live with me.”

Alma smiles and some tension leaves her body. “I already completed the paperwork and I enrolled him at Aquinas Academy.”

“That Catholic school in Stockton? That place is expensive as shit.” Jax exclaims. 

“We always planned to send the kids there Jax. Did you forget I went there? We get a discount.”

A fond smile comes across his face. “Trust me, darlin’, I did not forget you in that skirt they passed as a uniform.” 

Alma rolls her eyes, but she can’t help the smile that comes across her face. It’s nice to be talking to Jax like this without any tension. Although it makes the heartache worse because she misses him. She never stopped despite all the heartache he put her through. She knows that makes her stupid. 

“I already ordered him a couple uniforms too.”

“Jesus, Al, let me pay for something. I know the Russian has money, but Christ, Nathan is my son.” Jax says with more bite than intended. 

“I didn’t use any of his money, Jax. I never do with things for Nathan and I’m sure you know that considering you make it a point to send child support checks I never ask for.” Alma constantly rolls her eyes at the money Jax sends her on a monthly basis. Of course it all goes directly to Nathan, but she knows the excessive amount Jax puts in is for her as well. With the money, she has been teaching Nathan about budgeting and she makes sure he isn’t always buying outlandish things. “Besides, I have my own money.”

Jax lips tug up. “How is your shop? Mom liked the nails you sent in for her to try.”

A bright smile comes over her face any time anyone asks about her nail salon. Two years ago she started Picassos. She started a small online shop for press or glue on nails and after getting the necessary paperwork and certifications, she was able to open her own salon and it has done exceptionally well. In fact, her online store constantly keeps her busy. 

“It’s going so well. I’m thinking of expanding.”

“Yeah. Have any spaces picked out?”

A blush taints her cheeks for some reason. “I’m actually thinking of opening a spot here. I am supposed to meet with Hale about potential spaces especially since Nathan will be here now.”

Jax presses his lips together. She can tell he is thinking hard. He is trying to understand what is going on around him. He closes the distance between them. His hand comes up and grips her chin forcing her to look at him. She hates how a simple touch from him causes goosebumps to erupt across her flesh. 

“I know I was shit husband -”

“You weren’t,” she interrupts foolishly. Sure, at the end he was, but in the beginning, she can’t find herself tainting the image of the man she had hopelessly been in love with.  

A strained smile reaches Jax’s lip. “...still despite what happened between us. You can still come to me if you need my help.”

“Jax, I’m fine. Everything is okay.” She places her hand over his and squeezes it before removing his hand from her face. “I’ll see you next month.”

She doesn’t let Jax get another word back in as she rushes back to her car. 

.

.

.

Alma had to plan it meticulously. Vitaly is always busiest it seems between May and until the end of June. It’s then he makes his visits to other states or countries for things. Then in July, he would spoil her with a trip someplace. She knows this summer will not be an easy one. Most importantly, she feels bad for having to deceive her son. 

She looks at her oldest, as he gets older, she thought he would take after his father more. She had been surprised how much he resembles her physically. From the brown hair and she even finds some of her mannerisms in him. However, his eyes are his father’s eyes. Those blue orbs are a carbon copy of his father’s and he also seems to have inherited his father’s brain when it comes to things that aren’t particularly suited for the interests of 14 year olds. She has gotten too many phone calls about her son setting up candy stores trying to make a buck at school. 

Despite his lukewarm relationship with Vitaly, she knows Nathan does enjoy spending time learning the business side of the wine industry. Nathan has expressed an interest in going to school for business. She had been pleasantly surprised that her son showed an interest in college. She had been convinced her son would move back to Charming at 18 and join the club. Although she might be changing the course of his life by moving him to Charming. 

“What do you mean I’m moving with Dad?” Nathan asks as he packed what he believed to be his summer bag to his father’s. He only brings simple things like a book, movies, and games. Maybe a sweatshirt he is particularly fond of.  Usually the first day he is back in Charming, his dad takes him shopping for new clothes and things he needs if he outgrown some things. It also helped that he didn’t need to lug around a suitcase and deal with unpacking. 

“I enrolled you at Aquinas Academy for high school. So now for holidays you’ll come here. I thought it might be best for you to spend your teenage years with your dad.”

“And I don’t get a say in this?” Nathan asks. 

“If you really hate Charming that much, you can come back here of course. I think it would be best. I mean I got you for all these years. I think you and your dad would love this.”

“Does Vitaly know?”

“It doesn’t matter. When it comes to you, the final decision is between me and your father.” His mother deflects. 

Nathan straightens his back. He doesn’t like that answer. The thing was being young Nathan didn’t see the warning signs, or maybe Vitaly was good at hiding them. He can also say he had come to a point where he hated his father for the pain he inflicted on his mother. Vitaly didn’t seem to be wrong for his mother. He was spoiling his mother with gifts and seemed like he wanted to form a friendship with him. Now, he thinks Vitaly just knew how to prey on his mother. She was emotionally vulnerable and he dove like a crow. 

He thinks it was almost a year into his mother's marriage something felt off between his mom and Vitaly. 

The problem is he never sees anything. Sure, there are some raised voices and he does check his mom over for marks, but there is no evidence. 

There are times when he wants to mention something to his dad. He just is scared of his dad’s reaction and what could happen to his mom. His dad doesn’t like Vitaly as is and he knows his dad might do something reckless. Knows the club could get into trouble if his dad did do something. 

Although his main concern is his mother, he has researched a little on domestic violence and he needs to be sure she is safe. 

“Mom, I can’t leave you alone.” Nathan settles on. 

“I won’t be. I have the salon keeping me busy.” She answers. 

Nathan wants to scream and shout, but he doesn’t. He is a teeanger and he needs to be smart about this. Just maybe his mom does have a plan if she is sending him back to Charming. It doesn’t ease his worries though. 

“You’re gonna come to visit at least on the first day of school?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

.

.

.

Alma didn’t think it would be this hard. It’s always hard when her baby leaves for the summer. She misses him terribly and Nathan’s absence is always felt. Now though she can’t stop crying as she holds him to send him off with his father. 

“Christ, Mom,” Nathan says as she smothers him in kisses as she has to stand on her tippy toes a bit.

She can hear Jax chuckle in the background. 

She pulls back, “I’m just going to miss you so much.”

“I can see that.” 

“Oh stop,” Alma says. 

“I’m just going to be with Dad. It’s not like I’m moving to another country.”

Alma gives her son another hug. “I’ll miss you, baby.”

Nathan’s arms wrap around her tightly and they hold each other. Her baby is growing up. “I’ll miss you too, Mom.”

Alma pulls back and watches as Nathan makes his way to Jax’s truck. Jax is leaning against his grill with a somber expression. He walks over to her, “You sure about this?”

“Yeah. I’ll be in town for a couple weeks in August to see him start school.” She tells him. She wraps her arms around herself. “Just take care of him, Jax. He’s the only thing I have left.”

Jax nods his head. His eyes scan her over, “I’ll see you in August.”

.

.

The ride to Charming was quiet. Jax expected it to be considering how Alma clearly was distraught with Nathan moving in with him. Jax reminds himself that Alma wanted this and he was happy to have his son full time. Yet, since she popped up unexpectedly last month, he felt something was off. He was missing something from this. Sure, he had his suspicions. He made the mistakes once of making an offhand comment to Clay about it. The guys would usually ignore his comments about the Russian and write it off as jealousy. Yet, Clay had looked at him and made the pointed reminder that Alma wasn’t his wife or old lady. Her marriage wasn’t his business. Also if he did something the blow back wouldn’t not only hurt Alma and Nathan, but the club would suffer. 

Sometimes, Jax wanted to ask Nathan if he had worries or issues with Vitaly. He just didn’t want to put his son in that position. If there was a truth to any suspicions of wrongdoing, Jax would murder Vitaly without any hesitation. 

He just doesn’t know how to handle the fact he pushed Alma into this situation. He fucked up and she landed into this assholes lap. 

“We’re going to Grandma’s?” Nathan asks when they don’t take the turn to the house. 

“Her grandbaby is moving back to Charming. She made a whole spread for you.” Jax informs him. 

Gemma had been ecstatic when he told her Alma was sending Nathan to move in with him permanently. Since Alma married the Russian, their relationship had turned frosty. He knows his mom thought a reconciliation would happen and he thinks it's safe to say they were both blindsided when she announced she was getting married. 

His mother didn’t like the Russian either, but for other reasons. Jax thinks he is the only one that believes Alma’s marriage isn’t what it seems. He thinks it may be time to talk to Opie because he might get clarity from him, but even then it doesn’t change the fact Alma isn’t his old lady or wife. 

“You think she’ll be nicer to mom now?” 

Jax raises an eyebrow. “Who knows with your grandmother. How’s Ann doing?”

Nathan shrugs his shoulders. “Somewhere with her boyfriend. I don’t know. She and mom don’t talk much anymore.”

“Why’s that?”

“Everytime they would talk, Ann would say something bad about you and praise Vitaly. It would lead to arguments. So mom stopped checking in unless she felt I needed to talk to her, which I don't.” 

Jax snorts. “Unbelievable. How is the Russian?” He asks with clear distaste.

Nathan shrugs his shoulders. “On a business trip, I guess.” Nathan taps his fingers against his knees. “I just wish my mom wasn’t going to be alone in the house.”

“You worried for her.”

“It’s just been me and her, ya know. After Ben and Kaylee...I always worry.” Nathan reveals. 

Jax fights the ball in his throat at the mention of his two youngest. His chest still tightens thinking about them and what their futures could’ve been.

“She and the Russian don’t want kids?” He asks. He tries not to think about Alma sharing a bed with that man, but he has been mentally preparing for the pregnancy announcement any day now. 

“Vitaly doesn’t like kids.”

“What!” Jax exclaims, shocked. 

“That’s what he told me.”

“What? When?” Jax inquires. 

“It was a little bit after when they got married. One of the workers at the winery had a baby. He told me I didn’t need to worry about getting another sibling. He wasn’t fond of kids, especially babies.”

“Your mom knows this?”

Nathan furrows his brow. “I would imagine. It’s not like I really want to talk about mom’s sex life, Dad. Gross.”

“How do you think you got here?”

Nathan’s nose scrunches up. “Disgusting.”

“Speaking of sex, don’t think you are living with me you can be sneaking girls over. Your mom will kill me if you get a girl pregnant.” Jax warns. “You do know how to use a condom?”

“Ugh, yes, Dad. Mom showed me.”

“When?”

“Dad, I really don’t want to talk about this.”

“Well you are getting a refresher and I’ll take you shopping, or did your mom already take you?”

Nathan’s cheeks are red at this point. “No, Mom said she’ll save the shopping for you.”

“Look at that, your mom thinks of everything.” Jax says as he pulls into Gemma’s driveway. He turns the truck off. “I’ll give you a few minutes to call your mom and tell her that you're here, alright.”

Nathan nods his head and Jax slips out of the truck. He walks into his mother’s house. He almost jumps as the door is swung open. His mother is on the opposite side of him. She looks behind him. “Where is my grandson?”

“Calling Alma real quick to tell her we made it.” He answers as he walks into the house. 

“Well?” Gemma presses. 

“Well what?”

“Aren’t you excited? You’ve been mopey since Alma gave you the good news. It’s about time she came to her senses about the boy needing to be with his father.” Gemma adds. 

“Ma,” Jax warns. 

Gemma presses her lips together. “You should be happy.”

“I am.”

“She’s not your concern anymore, Jax.”

“She is still family, Ma.” Jax answers. “She’s the mother of my children. She is always going to be a concern.”

...

Alma has been nervous for this day. She is in the sitting living room by the tall windows as she looks out into their backyard. Vitaly is returning from his business trip. She can hear his footsteps approaching. She watches as he waves off his security to give them privacy. 

Vitaly is a handsome man. Tall and lean, his dirty blonde hair is slicked back and parted on the side, and it seems in the month he has grown out a mustache. When they first met, she wasn’t really impressed with him. Or at the time, he shared some similarities with her ex husband with the long hair and baggy shirts and jeans. But Vitaly’s sense of style has matured to silk buttons up and slacks. Expensive shoes and diamond jewelry. Despite having a legitimate winery with vast distribution, he has ties to the Russian Mafia. His uncle is Viktor Putlova, the head of the Mafia. 

Alma had been hesitant to be involved with someone in the Life again, but she was swept up by Vitaly. Also it helped that the Sons rarely do business dealings with the Russians. 

She took the risk. 

“Hey, baby,” he greets and gives her a kiss before sitting next to her. 

“How was the trip?”

“Too long. Just wanted to come home,” he tells her as he puts an arm around her shoulder. 

“Nathan already gone?”

Alma swallows the ball in her throat. “Yeah. Dropped him off last night.”

“When is he coming back?”

“He...uh...he is going to be actually staying in Charming. He is going to live with Jax.” She informs him. 

Vitaly freezes. “When was this decided?”

“A few weeks ago.”

“And you are only telling me now?”

Alma doesn’t say anything. 

“Answer me.” Vitaly barks. 

“He is starting high school. I thought it was best he was with his dad. They both miss each other.” Alma rushes out. 

“You couldn’t tell me this over the phone. You went behind my back.” Vitaly points out. “When did you tell, Jax?”

“May.”

“Over the phone.” Vitaly inquires.

Alma shakes her head. 

Even though she is prepared for it, it still manages to take her by surprise when Vitaly grabs her by her throat. He squeezes hard as he chokes her. She begins to feel light headed and white spots are forming in her eyes. 

She coughs as he throws her to the floor. 

“Jesus, fuck, Alma!” Vitaly shouts. “Get to the fucking room.” She can hear him unbuckling his belt. 

She used to think she was in love with Vitaly. Maybe a part of her was, but all she knows that her heart was already broken once so it can’t be broken again.

.

.

.

.

TWO YEARS AGO - The Wedding

Alma never imagined getting married again. In fact, she thought she was done with marriage. She had no desire in making vows with another man. Yet, look at her now. She is only in her peach colored robe and the fancy lingerie set she bought for her soon to be husband. She had just finished her makeup when she began to feel overwhelmed. 

Her mom sensed that she needed some space. She didn’t remember feeling nervous when she married Jax, but then again she already had a kid. Marriage paled in comparison to that. 

She is just worried she is making a mistake. Her choices affect her son. She and Vitaly could be together without the attachment of marriage. She wonders if it is normal to feel scared. She knows she sure as hell doesn't feel happy at the moment. 

Thinking on it, Alma didn’t have much say in the wedding planning. Her mom had taken over everything for her. 

A knock comes at the door. 

“One minute.” She replies. 

It’s quiet, but the knock comes again. She sighs and storms to the door. “I said one -” Her voice dies as she finds Jax on the other side of the door. 

He rushes into the room. Alma closes the door. She knows the only reason he is here is because of Nathan. Immediately after the wedding festivities Jax is going to take Nathan while they are on their honeymoon. 

She doesn’t get to question him as to why he is here because he beats her to it. 

“Please do not do this,” he pleads. 

Alma rolls her eyes. She walks back over to her vanity. “You did this. You ended us.”

“Alma, please, I’m sorry...there has to be something -”

“You’ve done enough.” She informs him bluntly. 

It goes quiet in the dressing room. Alma busies herself by playing with random items on her vanity, but it doesn’t conceal that her hands are shaking. 

She hears Jax footsteps behind her before his chest is against her back. Alma freezes. She turns immediately to slap him for even crossing that physical boundary. 

Yet as soon as she turns, Jax hoists her up on the vanity and immediately spreads her legs to stand between them. His movements were rough and desperate as he immediately removed her robe leaving her in her peach colored lingerie. 

His fingers wrapped around her throat and he moved her closer as he applied the smallest of pressure and pressed his lips against hers. 

She was distracted by Jax kissing hers that she jumps slightly in surprise when she feels his fingers move her panties to the side and tease her opening. He didn’t thrust them inside of her, but kept circling them making her buck her hips up on the counter. 

“Jax,” she moans. 

She hears him unzipping his pants and her panties are pushed to the side again and he slams himself inside of her. 

Alma screams are muffled as Jax moves the hand around her neck to cover her mouth. Her walls constrict around him as her body gets adjusted to him. She hates to even admit that she missed this side of Jax. She missed him. 

Jax moves his hand back to her throat as he presses another rough kiss to her mouth. He pulls all the way out before snapping his hips back up into hers. Alma bites her lip to stifle her moans as each thrust is harder than before. 

She knows what Jax is doing. She shouldn’t be letting him do this. She shouldn’t be doing this at all. But she tightens around him. 

Jax releases a broken moan, “Christ, you feel so fucking perfect.”

Jax lifts her leg and he hits her G-Spot repeatedly. It triggers her orgasm unexpectedly. Her body quivers and a lewd moan leaves Jax mouth as he releases. She can feel him coating her walls. He trails kisses across her collarbone and throat before he meets her lips. 

She can feel the tears building in her eyes. She thinks she truly hates Jax and herself at this moment. Jax pulls back when he feels the first drop of liquid against his cheeks. 

Alma winces as he pulls out of her. She ignores his cum dripping out of her and staining her panties. She is lucky she brought another set of lingerie as she couldn’t decide. 

“I hate you.” She tells him. She doesn’t glance at him as he cleans up. She has barely tied her robe back together and Jax has just buckled his belt when the door slams open revealing her mother. 

Ann doesn’t say anything as she glares at Jax, who walks out without a glance back. 

Alma turns as she looks for the other set of lingerie. 

“Is it out of your system?” Ann asks. 

Alma nods her head.

#the unknown #soa #soa fanfiction #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #jax teller #jax teller x oc

[hermankopusortizorsumshite]

You got a phone call from Tig, a lockdown was in effect. He arrived ready to escort you back to the clubhouse.

“Hey, we got a couple out of towners hangin’ for extra muscle. Don’t let ‘em get to ya.” He chuckles, grabbing your duffel and tossing it over his shoulder, his other arm draping over your shoulders. Leading you into the clubhouse, he takes your bag down the hall, last door on the right. He noticed a couple duffels with the SAMTAC patch on them, heading into the main room, his eyes lock on the Tacoma Moron. The blonde headed idiot. He starts to grit his teeth to keep from saying anything. Those duffels were Kozik’s. It didn’t take an fbi to figure that out.

“Clay. What the hell’s Tacoma doin’ here?” He growls, keeping his voice low so you couldn’t hear them.

“He’s here in business.”

“Yeah? I bet he didn’t happen to tell you him and his ol’ lady haven’t been together in the past six months. Haven’t even seen each other in six months. She could be in danger and he’s gonna push her out.” Tig barks, jabbing a finger behind him.

Blue eyes met yours, yours met his. Your heart stopped. Kozik. You choked on the air you sucked in and you ducked.

“Are you stupid?” You muttered to yourself, tucked against the bar.

“Was that my wife?” He asks out loud, grabbing a long drink from his beer before heading towards you. “Baby?” He asks, looking under the barstool after you.

“Oh fuck.” You stand, slamming your head under the bar and drop to the floor, grabbing your head and groaning. You hear him chuckling, but it’s quickly quieted when Tig stalks up. You knew it was him from his shiny black boots.

“Back off, Blondie.” He barks, stepping between you two, grabbing your hand and pulling you up into his grip.

“Listen, that’s still my wife.” Kozik warns, his eyes looking over you.

“You left her for six months. And you still think you can claim her? Jesus, you’re as dumb as you look.” He barks, pushing past him. You snorted, that was kind of funny.

“So tell me something now. Why are you here?” You ask, eyeing the blonde.

“Here cause Clay asked me. Didn’t realize you’d be here. Sorry, I should have warned you.” He whispers, eyes pleading with you for a moment before he turns and heads back to his beer. You watched him go, a small sigh escaping you.

Heart thundering heavy against your chest, you stumble back to the bedroom to find SAMTAC bags on the floor near the bed on the left side of the room.

“Are you serious?” Grabbing the handles you toss them into the hall, something fluttering to the ground from his bag. Bending down to pick it up, just as you flip it a hand reaches down and snatches it from your hand. You had caught a glimpse of your own face in a Polaroid.

“Don’t touch it.” He sucks the corner of his lip into his teeth, chewing on it.

“Sorry, I was just moving the bags. I didn’t realize they were yours.” You hush, running your tongue over your teeth and grabbing the door knob.

“You knew they were mine.” He barks, shaking his head.

“No, I didn’t.” You argue, swinging open the door only to be stopped by his hand gripping your arm. You hiss and yank away from him as if he were burning you.

“You did. You knew. Babe, I—“

“Don’t call me that.” You nip stalking away from him.

“Doll—“

You were sitting at the table, under Tig’s protective arm and Gemma’s harsh stare.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” He asks, stepping up to the table hands in his pockets and shifting from foot to foot. You groan, standing and stepping a little ways away from the that helped you through the first few weeks of separation.

“What?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Uhm, so the only room left was the back one, and it was the only one with a couch and not a chair, I was wondering if you’d let me sleep there. On the couch, I mean.” He stammers, hand scrubbing the back of his neck. He was nervous. He was unsure of you in front of the MC, which wasn’t right. You wanted him to look as tough as he deserved.

“Of course, just stay off the bed.” You chuckle, eyes meeting his for a second to find a twinkle of something there. You dismissed it when your turned and promptly sat back down next to Tig.

As you bid everyone goodnight and headed to bed, you noticed Kozik was still up talking to Jax and Opie, his attention on them. You slipped into the room, pulling the blanket from the bed and laying a pillow and blanket on the couch. Pulling off your jeans and shirt, you slip into an old SAMTAC shirt you’d kept of Kozik’s. For a moment, you contemplated changing, but Tig shot you a text that finalized your decision.

Tiggy: Headed your way. Let me know if you need me. ❤️

You dove into the bed, covering your face up and shutting your eyes. In moments, you were fast asleep.

Kozik walked down the hall, his breath catching every now and again. He’d never been nervous like this before around you, but he was going to be careful. Lucky didn’t even begin to describe how he felt that she agreed so quickly. Truthfully, he’d sleep on the floor if it meant being in the same room as you. It had been six months, six long months without you, and the moment he’d heard the words ‘lock down’ his heart had raced so hard he thought he’d die.

Giving a soft knock, he cracks the door to find you sprawled across the bed. At first a chuckle left his lips, a soft smile clung to his lips. Taking a step into the room, his eyes fell across your small body, a pair of black lace panties on and his old SAMTAC tee shirt that normally swallowed you whole. But it was ridden up and splayed around you.

With a shaking hand, he slipped a finger under the corner of the comforter and pulled it back over you. Something broke in his heart as he leaned to press a kiss to your forehead. He stopped himself and stepped away, taking a shaky breath. Running a hand through his hair he almost stumbles to the bathroom to shower to get his mind off you. Rubbing his knuckles back and forth against each other, he grabs towel and gets out, towel-drying his hair and body, wrapping the towel around his waist and stepping back into the roo, to find you awake.

“Shit, I’m sorry, baby. I thought you were sleeping.” He mutters, grabbing for his bag.

“Christ Kozik, I’m still your wife. You don’t have to play the decency card with me.” You chuckle, rolling onto your tummy to face away from him. He too chuckled for a moment before dropping the towel at the foot of the bed to change. A squeak escaped you when you glanced behind you to find the blonde man naked, digging through a duffel bag. Looking over his shoulder at you, a little smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Fuck.” You whisper, eyes falling on the tattoos across his back and arms. You’d gone so long without his touch, you’d been starved for a long six months, and you’d be damned to give in to him the first night. He stands, the muscles flexing and relaxing as he did so, sliding on a pair of blue boxers. “Koz—“ You hush without thinking, eyes meeting his immediately.

“Yeah?” He asks, eyes alert and trained on you.

“No, it’s nothing.” You assure, rolling over onto your back and sitting up.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asks as he starts to throw down another blanket on the couch.

“Do you think we could talk?” You stammer, eyes on your fingers tangling in your lap. He stops and stands at the end of the bed, waiting for you to the pat the area at your feet for him to sit down. “Can I sit?” He asks, pointing to the end of the bed. You nod.

“Why? Kozik I deserve that much. Why did you walk out on me?” You whisper, sniffling quietly.

“That’s what you think happened?” He asks, eyes wide as he reached for your face.

“What was it? What do you call abandonment?” You snort, dodging his touch.

“I was scared, baby. I was terrified. When you started talking about kids and stuff, I ducked. I’m not dad material. I’m sorry, I’m just not.” He shakes his head. “Nor do I want my own blood looking up to me, I’m not a leader in any shape or form. I don’t want kids, I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Jesus, Kozik. That was all you had to say. I just wanted to hear you say it. I don’t really want them either. At least not now, not yet.” You assure, eyes meeting his beautiful blue ones. Those eyes were part of your dreams most nights, they woke you almost every night.

“What?” He whispers, still in shock.

“You did it. You abandoned me for six months over a misunderstanding.” You laugh, softly at first, but it turns into wild laughter.

“Why are you laughing?” He asks, eyes meeting yours concerned.

“Because I’ve been going crazy. Trying to figure it out. I’ve racked my brain for every possible answer. That I’m the one who drove you away. That there was a crow eater here, but when I showed up I only met one who even knew you. That you were sleeping with another woman but you’d only been down here once before and that crow eater that tried to get you in bed, said you politely refused. So I was lost. I went back to Tacoma, thinking maybe there was a crow eater there, som tighter pussy, prettier version of me, but even there the crow eaters all said how polite you were to them. I went crazy searching for a reason. One that made sense, but nothing did.” You sob, wiping away tears. His heart pounded as you talked.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” He whispers, reaching for your hand. Your breath hitches when touches your hand. Pulling away, you lay back down.

“You can find your couch.” You sniffle, feeling his weight shift off the bed and a pat to your foot.

“I love you so much.” He whispers, and you swore you heard a sniffle as the light clicked off and you heard him lay down.

Some time in the middle of the night you heard rustling and then shouting. In a stupor, you stumble toward the couch and watch for a moment. Tears were streaming down his face, his eyes squeezed shut, fists clenched at his sides.

“Baby I’m sorry. Baby I’m so sorry. Please. Come home. Come home baby! I’m sorry. I’ll take it all back!” He shouts, tossing his head to the side. “Please.” A strangled sound escaped him as he swung at the air. “No. Please come back! I’ll change! I’ll quit! I’ll be whatever you want!” He shouts, grabbing at the air. “I’m just sorry.” He sobs, jolting awake to find you standing over him, hands covering your mouth. He was almost sure he was still dreaming, but his stomach lurched and he dove into the bathroom just in time to lose what little contents he’d eaten into the bowl.

He glances over his shoulder, thinking for a moment that your figure would be gone. But you still stood there, horrified at what you’d witnessed. Wiping his nose and clearing his throat, he brushes his teeth and staggers from the bathroom to land on the couch to compose himself. He was so embarrassed that you had just witnessed it. He’d had night terrors almost every night, replaying how you’d left him and they always ended the same. Him waking up sick, running for the bathroom and landing back on the couch heaving for breath.

“Sorry you had to see that.” He whispers, cracking his knuckles as his eyes never leave his hands. Tears filled his eyes. He was heartbroken that you’d witnessed it, what he’d become without you.

“Kozik, what the hell was that?” You whisper, stepping a little closer to his heaving shaking frame. He stands, stuffing his feet into his blue jeans and boots, yanking a shirt over his head and throwing on his kutte.

“Nothing. I’m so sorry.” He stammers before standing and making it for the door to find some fresh air that wasn’t strangling him. He tumbles out the front door and smacks his sweaty body against the cold concrete. He heaved against the concrete finally able to breathe. The tears had fallen a little more before subsiding as he found a seat on a picnic table.

“Kozik?” A familiar voice called from behind him. Jax had appeared and sat beside him, offering a cigarette. Kozik gladly accepted, the nicotine calming his frayed nerves. “You alright man? You look pretty shook up.” He chuckled. Yeah.

“Yeah, I’ve had these night terrors since she left. I normally just wake up and I’m okay, but she saw it. Saw how weak I was. Man, she probably thinks I’m some kind of loser now. I was a strong guy, kept her safe, what wife wants to see her husband wake up sick from a bad dream, man.” He chuckles, taking another drag.

“Dude, you’re a strong guy. You have your moments, alright every guy does. And hey, don’t worry. Chicks love when dudes cry.” They share a laugh, Jax clapping his back and standing up. “You alright though? You want me to talk to her?”

“Nah, I don’t even want to go back in there. I can’t face her after that, man.” He wipes a hand down his face and lets out a heavy breath.

“Anything I can do?” He asks, watching the blonde shake his head no, giving him a sad smile.

“Nah, go hug your girl man, tell you love her. Do it.” He points a finger at the younger biker.

“You got it boss.” He disappears into the clubhouse and Kozik was alone in the night once more. He heard the door open and he had a feeling it was you.

“Koz?” You hush, afraid to break some kind of invisible barrier.

“Don’t. Don’t whisper like you’re afraid you’re gonna break me.” He barks, rolling his eyes.

“Sorry, I was just worried about you. You wanna talk?” You ask, his sweatshirt swallowing you whole. A little smile graced his lips for a moment as he saw you. He loved when you’d go camping and he’d toss you a sweatshirt and you’d sit in his lap by the fire. “So, how long’s that been going on?” You ask, eyes meeting his for a second to find heartbroken written in them.

“Six months.” He husks, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Since you left?” You whisper, contemplating grabbing his hand. One hand held a cigarette to his lips, the other gripped the edge of the table between you two.

“Yeah.” He nods, taking another heavy drag to fill the silence.

“Kozi—”

“Don’t.” He rasps, stamping out the cigarette on the table before standing.

“Don’t what?” You challenge, glaring at him. He twists and faces you, a dangerous look in his dark eyes. He jabs a finger in your face.

“Don’t act like like I’m weak.” He growls.

“Weak? Because you have nightmares? Or because you left me alone in Tacoma while you galavanted around with a group of overgrown boys on motorcycles while I sat at home trying to figure out what I did wrong?” You shout, standing toe to toe with your husband. His expression changed, softened into shock as he listened to you.

“What?” He whispers.

“Don’t you dare act like you’re shocked. You know what you did.” You hissed.

“I’m sorry, baby.” You heard the strangled sound of the broken boy from an hour ago and your heart broke. He saw your face widen and he knew you were thinking about it. “Stop it! I never wanted you to see me like that. Because you’ll always compare my sorry to what I said when I was sleeping. You’ll always see me as vulnerable.” He rolls his eyes. “You’ll always see that part of me now. How stupid was I?” He asks, eyes meeting yours.

“What?” You ask.

“How stupid was I to think that I’d be able to fix this?” He whispers, eyes filling with tears. He swings a fist into the gate. “Son of a bitch!” He shouts, swinging relentlessly at the stationary fence post.

“Kozik stop! Kozik! You’re going to hurt yourself!” You cry, reaching for him.

“You don’t see us as us anymore. Do you?” He chokes through his teeth. You didn’t respond. “Tell me the truth. Say something. Fuckin’ Christ!” He shouts, swinging at the post again and against.

“Kozik, stop. You’re going to break your hand.” You softly talk, trying to calm him down. He stops mid swing and looks at you.

“Tell me.” He whispers, jaw quaking and fists clenched tightly, blood dripping from his busted knuckles onto the pavement.

“Koz-“

“Never mind. Please don’t say a word. I can’t do it. I can’t. You weren’t supposed too see that. You were always supposed to see me as this. A fighter, a bruiser, a brawler. Never supposed to see that weak bitch moment in there.” He mutters, tossing a thumb over his shoulder.

“Weak bitch moment? I woke up the first two months in a cold sweaty mess of sheets screaming for you. Do that make me a weak bitch?” You nip, eyes meeting his angry ones.

“You’re a woman, you’re supposed to cry and be dramatic. I’m a man, I’m just not wired that way, you weren’t supposed to see that. You were never supposed to see that.” He growls, swinging a fist into the post again.

“Is that right? So because I’m woman it’s not a weak bitch moment?” You shout, trying to get a rise out of him. You weren’t sure what you were looking for, but if he was looking for a fight, you’d give him one.

“Baby that’s not—“

“What? Not what you meant? Like when you left me alone? Scared out of my mind while you freely wandered earth?” You bark, crossing your arms over your chest.

Tig had heard the commotion and started outside. He found you and Kozik standing toe to toe, his fists bloodied and Tig saw red. He was sure he’d seen a dark patch on her face like he’d hit her.

“Hey! Everything okay over here?” He calls, heading towards them.

“Oh wonderful! Here comes god himself to whisk you away from me.” Kozik sneers, waving a hand to Tig.

“Hey man! Someone had to look out for her while you were gone.” The curly haired man states, a chuckle on his lips.

“Tig, we’re fine. Just working out our shit.” You assure, patting his arm.

“Yeah, you alright with that Tiggy?” A dark grin crossed Kozik’s face.

“Yeah, it’s really great.” He nips, smiling back just as darkly. “What’s your problem, man? Want a kiss?” He challenges, making a kissy face at the furious blonde.

“Bet you wanna kiss my wife, don’t ya?” He hisses, watching Tig’s face unchanging.

“Oh yeah, dream about her every night. Running my hands up her—“ Kozik swings, hitting the ebony-haired man. Tig swung back and pretty soon they took to brawling both their fists bloodied as they jabbed and swung, Kozik’s manliness had to be put back in check, and he figured he’d do so fist-fighting Tig.

You stood there in shock, watching the two go to war with each other, not knowing what to do. Feeling confident, you waited for an opening and you slipped between the two of them. Tig grabbed at Kozik’s fist, but he missed and the ringed knuckles slammed into your back, sucker-punching the air from your lungs and knocking you out.

T.K.O. You hit the ground and it stopped the fight. Kozik wasn’t breathing. He stood there, staring at you.

“Awe, come on man.” Tig nips, looking to Kozik for some kind of reaction. He watched in shock as his worthy opponent staggered backwards in shock. Tig had never seen that look before. He watched the blonde’s bloodied lips open and close, but no sound escaped them. “Kozik?” He asks, wondering if the blonde was also gonna hit the ground. He continued his uneven backwards steps, tripping over his own boots and hitting the ground. Tears filled his eyes and he found himself scrambling to his feet.

“What the hell’s going on?” Clay shouts from the door. It happened in seconds, Kozik grabbed his keys and hopped on his bike and took off. “Where’s Tacoma going? What’s she doing on the ground?” Tig handed you off to Chibs and got on his bike headed after the dumb blonde. He expected something stupid from him.

He finally found Kozik in Tacoma, sitting on the front steps of their house, his pistol sitting on the step between his knees. His head resting in his hands.

“Hey, stupid.” Tig calls, unclipping his helmet and dropping it on the seat. “You didn’t mean it man.” He hushes, sitting next to him.

“I hit her. Fuck, first I had a nightmare and she saw that. Saw how weak I was, throwing up and crying, like some kind of bitch show. Then she tried to stop me from hitting you and I hit her.” He swings at the concrete.

“Listen, fuckin’ moron. You’re big and dumb, sure.” Tig shrugs, handing him a cigarette to calm the blonde’s nerves. “But anyone who knows her knows you love her more than anything. You and her are great for each other. Whatever the fuck’s going on right now, this pissing match between you, every couple goes through it. Just, for christ’s sake, you left her there on the ground. What if I didn’t take her to Clay? She’d still be there when you got back. She’d be alone, on the cement, cold and shit.” He tries to figure out where his head is.

“Yeah, probably dead.” He hushes, chewing on his bottom lip before he takes a drag of the cigarette.

“Hey man, nah. She’s a tough girl. You know that. She’s gonna be fine. She’s probably already up. You wanna head back?” He asks, patting the blonde’s shoulder.

“Nah, I can’t face her after that. I might as well move to Mexico and change my name. I’m toast, man.” He hushes, pressing the back of his hand against his eyes to stop the tears.

“Listen, I won’t ever forgive you for what you did to my dog, but you know what? You and her, you two were meant for this life. You’re both strong enough to live it. Now get your sorry ass up and let’s go get your girl.” He assures, hauling the Tacoma native to his feet and dusting off his shoulders. He grabs the mans hands to inspect how badly he’d injured them. They were rough. His knuckles were torn up he could possibly see muscle and maybe a bone, he wasn’t sure. The cuts were deep though. Pulling a couple bandanas from his kutte pockets, he wraps the other mans knuckles and pats his shoulders. “Listen to me, you don’t talk about this. Me chasing you like some bitch. You don’t deserve her, but you know what? She deserves you. You’re a good guy, you’re great brother, and even if I can’t get over this ancient shit, know I got your back and hers.” He climbs on his bike, watching the other man climb onto his bike too.

They arrive back to SAMCRO around nine in the morning, Kozik’s heart thundered as he stepped into the clubhouse. All eyes fell on him and Tig as the other bikers were all dressed and standing in a group.

“Jesus christ, that looked gay.” Tig rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t miss the laugh Kozik gives. “No worries hunny, your hubby survived.” Tig pressed a hard kiss to your forehead. Kozik stayed his distance, eyes on his boots. You looked at him, eyes bearing down on him like a heavy weight.

“Alright, Gem we gotta go meet with Lin, you and the others hold down the fort baby.” Clay assures, patting your back as he hugged Gemma to him. You longed for your husband to give you the same attention. “Boys, let’s get our shit around. Put your vests on, your women don’t need to worry about bullet holes.” He chuckles as everyone herded out the door. You watched, almost sick as Kozik trudged back to his bike. Everyone was busy kissing and cooing, giving you an opportunity to go to Kozik. As you approached him, his eyes flicked up for only a second before they hit the ground again.

“Hey baby.” You hush, afraid of whatever silence that sat between you.

“What?” He asks, checking his saddlebags for something. Your hand touched his forearm, and he flinched away. That arm was connected to the ringed knuckles that knocked you to the ground only fifty feet from where they currently stood.

“So you hit me, and you wanna play this?” You hiss quietly, getting his attention.

“It’s over baby. Just go inside. I’ll be back in Tacoma tomorrow night. Trust me.” He hisses back.

“Herman Jack Kozik, you didn’t mean it.” His face lifts to look at you.

“You’re right. But it doesn’t matter, you understand? I hit you. I. Hit. You. I knocked you onto the ground. I did that.” He waves a hand to the dollar-bill sized scrape mark where your head hit the ground.

“I mean, yeah. But I stepped into it. I deserved it.”

“No. No baby. Don’t ever say that. You don’t ever deserve to be hit. Do you understand? And if any man you marry after me hits you, I’ll kill him. Do you understand me?” He snarls, fists clenched at his sides. You reach for his bruised and battered face, remembering the swings between he and Tig.

“I guess you won’t have to worry, I’m not going to marry anyone after you.” You state, swallowing hard.

“Alright guys, lets get ready to roll!” Clay shouts. You looked at Kozik, seeing he’s not wearing his vest. You pull one from his saddlebag and hand it to him.

“Come back to me.” You plead, handing him the vest.

“I will.” He assures, never meeting your eyes as he drops the vest back into the bag and tightening it down. You laughed sickly, turning and stumbling blindly towards the big building. “I love you.” He whispers, and he knew you didn’t hear him, but he said it. He had too, he needed you to know it.

“Kozik, put the fuckin’ vest on, stupid.” Tig yells over the roar of the bikes. Kozik straps it on, but you didn’t see it.

The men returned that night, all in tact, but Kozik wasn’t with them. You met everyone at the door, looking for his pretty blue eyes.

“Where’s—“ You’re cut short when he comes strutting in with some girl under his arm. “What in the fuck?” You shout, stomping into his view.

“Hey, this is my ex-wife, this is Beatrix.” He cheers, waving a hand to her.

“She gonna be a trick alright,” you growl, grabbing her by her hair and dragging her to the ring, stuffing your hands into boxing gloves and pulling off your tee shirt. A sports bra and shorts, bare foot, Kozik drank you in, watching his little brawler get in the ring with a crow eater.

“Kozik, what the hell are you doing?” Tig shouts over the cheers and chants.

“I just wanted to bang a crow eater and show her what kind of person I am. I want her to hate me, leave me in the dust and start a new life. I want her to find some guy that works nine to five, comes home and hugs her, brings her flowers. I want the best for her, and I’m not it. I could just get her to hate me. It’s the easiest way. But, uhm, she’s gonna kill her.” He points to the ring, the crow eater barely standing after two hits.

“Jesus Christ. Just leave her then.” Tig barks, jumping into the ring and dragging you out. You shove the man away, still bouncing back and forth.

“You tell him, he kicks my ass, he can leave me. Or sleep with her. Whatever he wanted.” You snap, glaring at the blonde.

“Yeah, uh, she said you gotta beat her in a ring fight to leave her.” He watched Kozik laugh dryly.

“No, man.” He shakes his head, heading for the ringside.

“Fight me.” You hiss, danger dancing in your eyes.

“No. You know I won’t do that shit.” He snips, grabbing you and pulling out of the ring, propping you on your feet in front of him. “Can we talk outside?” He asks, your heart falling through the concrete floor. Tossing the gloves onto the ring pad, you step out into the parking lot of Teller-Morrow with your husband.

“You serious?” You whisper, eyes meeting his.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I just. I don’t want you as my ol’ lady anymore.” He states, shoulders tensed. You coughed, eyes staring into his still.

“No. Ring fight or you’re not leaving me. Beat me the fuck up. Show me what you hate. Be everything you hate, show me him.” You challenge, standing in front of him, arms crossed over your chest in a power stance.

“No. I’m not gonna hit you, real men don’t hit—“ He stopped. You watched on as he swiped quickly at his face, turning his back to you. With a gentle hand, you touched his shoulder.

“Kozik?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, ya know? I hit you.”

“It’s okay, it was an accident, Koz.” You assure, patting his arm.

“Yeah, I know it was. But it doesn’t excuse it. I hit you. A man should never lay hands on a woman, especially his woman. I broke that, I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve this. I should just leave you. Just give me the ring back. I’m done.” He whispers, hand outstretched.

“You, my loving wonderful husband, better pry this ring from my cold dead hand.” You snip, turning on your heel only to be snatched up. He pulls your hand to him, spinning the ring around your finger.

“Why are you goddamn fighting me so hard on this?” He asks, eyes pleading you to give up.

“Because I’ve been through hell and back without you. You were just a ghost that haunted me. You didn’t help me get over my attack, you didn’t answer Tig’s calls, you didn’t stay with me as I fought you off in my dreams, so let me tell you. I stayed with you against all odds, and you have the audacity to tell me you want it over, after ghosting me for six months? Oh no buddy, you and me, we’re in this together. You don’t have a choice.” You jab him in the chest.

“Attack?” He asks, curiosity in his eyes.

“Yeah, I was kidnapped after you left. Guy said they were stalking our house in Tacoma, said he knew when you left and when you came home everyday. But it doesn’t matter. I would wake up in the middle of the night screaming for you, scared I was back there again.” You hush, looking down at your feet.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” He yanks you against him, gripping you impossibly tighter to his body. “Jesus, baby. I’m so sorry.” You listened to his thundering heart as he held you. Six months. You’d waited six months for this exact moment. He was back for good. “I’m gonna make it up to you, those six months. Babygirl, I’m gonna fix this. Do you trust me?” He asks, still holding you. He’d been touch starved for six months, and finally your soft skin was against him, all was right with the world.

“Of course. Why do you think I’m still here?” You laugh, your hands gripping the back of his shirt. He gives a growl, scooping you up and heading through the crowd, dropping you on the bed.

“Don’t move.” He orders, disappearing for a moment, returning in just boxers, all his tattoos on display. Diving onto the bed, he pulls you against him and tucking his nose into your hair, he breathes in.

Tears fill his eyes, and you felt a drop on your shoulder. Leaning back to look at him, you find his eyes closed.

“Kozik?” You ask, met with tear-filled blue eyes.

“I’ve never been so happy. Sorry.” He whispers, hugging you so tightly against him.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m not going anywhere again. As long as you promise me the same.” You assure, holding him as he hugged so tightly to you.

#kozik #kozik oneshot #herman kozik #herman kozik imagine #kozik imagine #kozik!reader #soa #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy kozik

[saintheartwing]

So Lily Responded

Here’s her response. “You know, the whole damn point of Aliana’s role in the story is a refutation of the Jedi belief that killing a dangerous person is some kind of “dark threshold.””

Uh, killing isn’t the issue, it’s the whole “murder” thing, there’s a difference between killing and murder. Even the friggin’ Bible and Jesus Christ makes a difference, the law is “thou shalt not murder” in most of the translations for a reason, because there are instances where it’s okay to kill. But murder is different. 

Even the dictionary and the law has pointed this out. Killing someone with malice aforethought, killing people who are helpless and can’t fight back, who had no idea you were about to kill them, or who can’t defend themselves, that’s murder. But if someone tosses a knife at you and you shoot them in response, or they’re about to kill someone and you have no other way to stop them but to shoot them in the head, the law, and the dictionary, would say that was “killing”. And it might be kinda bad, but it’s understandable, and forgivable. 

Lily’s basically just ignoring the distinction between killing and murder that I’ve kept bringing up. It’s not the same thing as killing a stormtrooper, those guys are armed. Snoke had dark powers, killing him is okay because he can toss you around like a rag doll with his mind. Killing someone in a fight is okay. Aliana making unaware rich assholes jump off a balcony? 

That’s murder. I’m sorry you don’t think there’s much of a difference, but indirectly causing suffering isn’t the same thing as directly causing suffering. Again, like I said, indirectly causing suffering or pain or being neglectful and not doing the right thing doesn’t always lead to people dying. But making them leap off a balcony does, that’s direct, and that’s wrong. 

Also, one more thing. We already saw a refutation of the idea of “killing your opponent makes you as bad as them”...in Star Wars. Obi Wan killed General Grevious in a fight, remember? He viewed it as “uncivilized”, kind of a snarky response, but it didn’t make him evil or turn him to the dark side. He also killed Darth Maul. Again, didn’t make him evil. So I’m not sure where this idea comes from that “The Jedi think killing automatically makes you a bad guy” because the Jedi kill a LOT of people in the prequel stories. Han Solo’s killed a bunch of people, he wasn’t a bad guy. Leia outright strangled Jabba, but that was fine, he had her in chains as a slave and she got the drop on him. 

So literally story after story in the official works has shown that the movies and the Jedi themselves don’t really think killing means you cross some dark threshold. Cuz the good guys have killed people before and it didn’t automatically make them evil. It’s not about the whole “killing” thing. Killing is kinda bad but again, it’s understandable, even forgivable or sometimes even justifiable if you have to save lives. But murder...murder’s a lot worse. It’s one of those things that’s always evil, like, say, rape. Or child abuse. Or genocide. There are just some things that are ALWAYS wrong, even if done for good reasons. 

Anyway, said my piece.No offense but Lily, you’re basically misrepresenting my position and then attacking the misrepresentation. That’s called straw-manning. Killing people isn’t the issue, MURDERING them is, and that was my point. The fact she cold-blood murdered people and the story treats it as a good thing, when basic common decency, the law, and the average person would clearly say “Yeah that’s effed up right there”. 

One more thing. Not sure I made this clear but her killing those rich people only actually has a SHORT TERM effect of basically making her feel good. It doesn’t actually help poor people. Why? 

Because those guy’s money will just go to their business partners. Or their family. Who are probably, most likely, ALSO rich assholes and the cycle of neglect and mistreatment and ignoring the plight of the poor just continues. My suggestion of “why not just mind control them to give away their wealth” ends that cycle. No more resources to use unjustly, poor people get help, and their rich family or business associates can’t do a thing cuz the money’s all gone, so they’re stuck. So killing those rich people doesn’t actually solve the underlying real issue at all. My solution would do a lot more to do that. Cuz then those poor people aren’t poor anymore. Killing rich people still leaves poor people poor. 

#lily orchard #the sith resurgence #star wars

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #309

“show me how to lie - you’re getting better all the time  /  and turning all against one is an art that’s hard to teach.”

Have you ever played Jackbox Games? If so, which ones of their party games are your favorites? No, but I looooove watching Mark and The Boys play them on charity streams. They can make up the funniest shit. I can't recall the name of the specific one I'm thinking of... but I enjoy watching most of them. I do think one or two are boring, though. Do you have artistic friends? If so, have you got their artwork displayed? I have some very talented friends, but I don't have anything of theirs displayed somewhere. Have you ever considered pole dancing? Why/why not? No. It takes an incredible amount of strength, plus confidence I don't have. That and I'm just not into it. What's the last thing you fixed yourself? Uhhhhhhh bitch I couldn't tell ya. Are there any CDs you've held onto for sentimental reasons? No. Did you read the Barbie magazines with comics made with the actual dolls? "I didn’t know that was a real thing." <<<< Me either. What's the last thing you knitted? I've never knitted before. Who was your first online friend? Emma. :') She was the first person who joined my RP mob back in the Animal Planet forum days. Why do you take surveys? Be honest. Boredom, distraction, and sometimes I just wanna ramble about whatever. Does mail get delivered to your door or do you have a mailbox outside? Our mailbox is by the side of the road at the end of our driveway. Your doorbell rings out of the blue. What's your reaction? Let Mom answer it. I don't answer the door ever if I don't expect someone or can peek outside and don't recognize them. Are all the lamps in your home LED or other energy saving lights? I don't know. Do you prefer writing by hand or typing? Typing. I can't write very long at all before my carpal tunnel flares up. Think of one of the biggest decisions you've had to make in your life...If you made a different choice, how different would your life be now? I'd be dead, that simple. Have you ever taken a course on CPR? No. What makes you laugh most effortlessly? You can guess it pretty easily. What makes you cry most effortlessly? I make it a rule that I "can't" listen to "Eternally Yours" by Motionless In White because there hasn't been even ONE occasion where it hasn't made me cry, even when I was stupid enough to binge it because it's just a good song. I've broken that "rule" before because I do just genuinely enjoy the song, but I know the pain truly isn't worth it, so I haven't heard it in a decently long time. What is the best smell in the whole world? Cinnamon rolls, probably. My body wash is currently that kind of smell, and Jesus Christ it's the best part of showering. Do you wear a watch? No. Can you tell time from an analog clock? Yes. What a time it'll be when kids can't anymore... Is there a number or a combination of numbers that feels important to you? Only dates, but not numbers themselves. What is the most socially awkward thing you've done? *gestures at my life as a whole* Is your computer decorated in any way? No. If your old class was to have a reunion, would you attend it? No. No. I don't want to relive my high school experience; it would be too painful for me to willingly walk into. What's the worst thing that's ever happened to you? I would say "the breakup," but technically it was letting him basically own me and my every neuron of joy. Not by his will of course, but my own. I was stupid and just... handed those rights over without really realizing it. I can harp forever and ever and EVER about the importance of making sure you own yourself and your emotions. Do you ever donate money to charity? If so, which charity and why? Blah blah blah, I don't get an income, you know this. Whenever I do, I 100% plan on donating to every charity stream Mark ever hosts again, as well as some other people's. I'd love to donate to a lot of places. Would you ever want to get married? If so, why? Yes, because society has made it too instilled in me that it's just like... this ultimate validation of "forever" with your partner, even though I know you can be just as or even far more invested in your relationship without marriage. The only *true* benefit of marriage imo is for legal and financial reasons, but yeah, I still want it. Like I said, it's too deeply embedded in that brain of mine that it's a relationship goal. Why do you live the way you do? I'm not even living the way I want to, so... Have you ever abused an animal? No, and I say "fuck you" with every ounce of sincerity and loathing if you have. Do you think animals are less important than humans? If so, why? Nope. We share this earth and grew from the same roots, so what *really* makes us better? We might be smarter (generally) and more developed as the apex predator, but that does not equate to being more important than, say, even a gnat. That creature has the exact same level of rights to be here as the human species does. I could go on and on and on about this topic. How close was the last person close to you who has died? Not extremely, but she was still important to and loved by me. Grandma and I were very, very different and butted heads more than once, but her love was unconditional, and she showed boundless kindness to others. She showed a courage I see as unmatched in the face of death. I truly, deeply, in the very core of my heart hope she is at peace and experiencing all joys she ever wished for. How does death in general make you feel? Well, it depends on how I'm looking at it. I fully accept it is an inevitable phase in simply existing that none of us will ever evade, so it's not exactly terrifying to me, though of course I don't want it anytime soon. If I'm thinking about people I love dying, I definitely get sad about it and scared of that possibly eternal separation. Is there a person you absolutely loathe? If so, why do you loathe them? Not that I know personally, no. Has anyone ever told you that you're rude? If so, what caused it? No; I think I'm very mannerly, honestly. Have you ever seen a therapist? I've regularly seen therapists since I started middle school. I advocate for everyone to have one, honestly, whether you have a mental illness or not. Have you ever been homeless? In technical terms, yes, but a friend let me stay with her until Mom and I settled into a new place. Have you ever been completely broke? That's the actual story of my life. Well, not me personally considering I've never had to take care of myself financially, but my mom struggles very, very badly with this, and mind you, she's frugal. Just disgustingly underpaid when she worked, and her current status with disability isn't exactly incredibly generous. I live under her roof, so. Have you ever had a steady job? No. Have you ever needed a loan? If so, what for? Have you paid it back? Yes, for school, and no. I do NOT want to know how in debt I am with schools. Have you ever wanted to go to space? Not seriously, no. What's the weirdest thing you've ever seen or heard? I am 99.99% sure mine and Jason's old roommates were having some ~kinky~ sex once while I was alone on the couch against their bedroom. Preeeetty sure the girl was making meowing sounds. They were furries (who I want to emphasize have zero judgment from me; I actually think they're very brave and creative), so that was... something I definitely wasn't used to hearing, haha. What has been the most exciting moment of your life thus far? Probably when Mark N O T I C E D me on Tumblr by reblogging a gif I made of him and his pupper, and I LITERALLY struggled to sleep for three days lmfaoooo. How many birds can you name just by looking at them? Uhhhh a pretty decent amount, I'd say. Which birds are most common around your neighborhood? Crows, sparrows, cardinals and bluejays if you're lucky, robins... pretty basic stuff like that. What do you think is the most interesting sea creature? Octopi are absolutely fascinating with their intelligence. How do you reset your head to zero, so to speak? Take a nap. That usually works. Have you ever gone exploring an abandoned building? Yeah, I love that shit and really wish I could do it more. Bring my camera, too. Are there any foreign television shows you enjoy watching? Some animes. Do you have any clocks in your house that chime when the hour changes? Do those types of clocks annoy you? No. I actually quite like them, though. Has anyone ever let you borrow some of their music, promising you'd love it, but you really didn't? Did you lie to the person and agree, or tell the truth, that you hated it? My dad lent me his Shinedown CD once clearly without thinking I could just look up the album online, haha... He's an old clueless man, leave 'im be. But anyway, of course I listened to it for him and I enjoyed it; I especially loved "The Human Radio," "Kill Your Conscience" and "Pyro." Have you had the same doctor pretty much your whole life, or have you went to a bunch of different ones over the years? Have you ever been to the doctor thinking something was horribly wrong with you, but it turned out to be something minor? Mine has changed a few times, but I haven't had "a bunch." As for the second question, not to my recollection. Is the background on your phone a default picture, or a picture you took? What is the picture of? The lock screen is a pastel-styled list of mental health reminders: "i am strong, i am loved, i am enough." My home screen has been some adorable meerkat pups for a while, which I didn't take. What is your favorite type of print (ex: zebra, stripes, argyle)? Do you have a lot of things with this print on it? Ummmm maybe plaid? No. Are there any stores you feel uncomfortable going into (ex: if you dress girly, do you feel uncomfortable going into Hot Topic)? Are there any stores that you refuse, or just never go in to? The only situation I could think of would be a sex shop. That'd be so fuckin uncomfortable. What is your favorite brand of clothing? Is this a brand that is sort of expensive, or is it pretty affordable? I'm heavily biased towards Cloak, haha. I just support anything and everything Mark takes part it, and it's his and jacksepticeye's business. I have one shirt and it's genuinely great quality and reall comfy. I wouldn't call its products expensive, but they're not cheap, either. What person do you text the most? My mom or Sara, depending on the day. Do you have any pictures that always make you laugh, or cry? Are they digital pictures, or printed pictures? What is the significance? No. Not pictures I have anymore, at least. Have you ever eaten raw pumpkin? Omg I would never. I hate the flavor of any sort of pumpkin food. Does your car have a name? I don't have my own car, but Mom jokingly calls hers "Olivia." Who was the last person you made plans with? One of my sister's in-laws that's actually the mother of one of my closest friends contacted me to plan some family pictures. What is the rudest thing someone has done recently towards you? I can't think of anything recent. How do you feel about your hair right now? It needs to be trimmed and dyed. How fast have you driven a car? I think accidentally leaning towards 80 on a highway. When you're hanging out with friends + you become bored, do you just leave or endure the boredom? Given I can't leave without a car, I deal with it. What did you last plug into your computer? What were you doing with this? The charger for obvious reasons. What color(s) have you dyed your hair? Red, purple, black, then red, purple, and lighter brown highlights. I really wish I could dye it more and actually have the color stick... Was your first kiss perfect? It was to me. What song did you hear last? I have "Over The Mountain" by Ozzy on now. (: Does anyone have any blackmail on you? No. Have you ever walked into the guys' bathroom? HA, once during a teacher work day (my mom was an assistant) at my elementary school. My sisters and friends went in there to be little "rebels." I remember being mega confused with urinals, haha. Then as a teen and adult, I've been in the dance studio's boy's restroom as well as a church's to help Mom clean. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? My therapist. Are you shy? I am VERY shy. Are you talkative? Generally, no, but when I'm in a very good mood, I tend to be. Has your most recent ex ever seen you cry? Oh jeez, she saw me wail once. When was the last time you were called "cute"? I'm not sure. Would you rather be called "hot", "cute" or "beautiful"? "Beautiful." Do you have a little sister? Yep. Definitely not "little" anymore, though. About to have her Master's in social work... How many arguments have you had with the last person you kissed? Given our childhood, we've fought a lot, but mostly just as kids over very, very stupid things. As adults, we've had a serious argument once or twice and then just some very minor disagreements sprinkled in there. Do you know anyone who's been arrested? Oh yes. What're you planning on doing after this? Another survey. What time did you go to sleep last night? Damn, it wasn't even 8:00. I was EXHAUSTED and actually slept decently for once in my life. Do you like waking up to good morning texts in the morning? I mean, I'd think most people would. It's a sweet, easy way of someone showing they care and think about you. Have you left some things unsaid with a certain person? Yeah. What was the last thing that made you happy? We had syrup to add to my breakfast, haha. I don't know if these are a thing everywhere, but I looove what we just call "pancakes on a stick," which is like a corndog, but with sausage and pancake batter. Dipping it in syrup is amaaaaaaziiiiiiing. Do you like the smell of rain? I don't love it, but it's refreshing sometimes. It's mostly just associated with a bittersweet memory, so it can be triggering to smell. I know, that sounds immensely stupid. What was the last thing you took a picture of? A very, very relatable meme to show Sara, haha. She doesn't have a Facebook, so that'll do. When you go to McDonald's, what drink do you usually get? I always get a Coke. What’s the nickname of your home state? Tar Heel State, from discovering tar in the since aptly-named Tar River. Have you ever thought about your wedding? I mean duh. What’s the worse type of weather in your opinion? Hot and humid, ugh. Especially right after a summer afternoon thunderstorm. It's unbearable. You can't fucking breathe outside, and you set one foot out of the door and it's soaked. Do you have a Kindle or iPad or neither? Neither. Would you rather read or write? Write. When was the last time someone took a picture of you? The time Misty visited last month and we were taking family pictures. Would you rather see Taylor Swift or Carrie Underwood in concert? I wouldn't pay for either or even willingly go to one or the other, but if I had to go for whatever reason, Carrie. She has a beautiful voice as well as a good handful of songs I actually like. I'm not a Taylor fan; there are only like, two old songs by her I enjoy. When someone screws you over, do you get back with revenge? No. I may not be the best at adulting, but damn, I'm not that bad. Name something negative that you hate about yourself? I overthink like a motherfucker. About everything. Is there a dead end road near where you live? I live on one. Huh, that's actually been the case three times... wow. Four if you count the apartment. Who are you tired of seeing in the news a lot (celebrities)? I don't care. I don't even pay attention to the news, other than Covid updates. Have you ever had to call and complain about a product you bought? No. Name something positive you love about yourself: I care a lot about people. Can you smell anything right now? No, besides however my house naturally smells that I'm numb to. Have you spoken to a relative on the phone today? No. How does alcohol affect you? I flush in my face very obviously, and I become more outgoing and talkative. Have you ever eaten tofu and if so, did you enjoy it? I've never tried it, but I very much doubt I'd enjoy it. What was the last type of meat you ate? Pork. What colour is your toothpaste? Blue and white. Have you ever been suspended from school? No. Have you ever inhaled helium? Once, I believe. Are you a fan of Adam Sandler? Yeah, I think he's pretty funny and a talented actor. What was the last fruit you ate? An apple. A candied apple for Valentine's Day, but still an apple, haha. Have you ever watched Parks and Recreation? With Sara's family, yeah. It was fine. Have you watched a movie this week? I haven't watched a movie in many months. Have you set an alarm today? Yeah, just to ensure I was up for group therapy today. Have you asked someone for advice today? No. What was the last website you were on, other than this one? YouTube. Have you ever been to Hawaii? No, but it'd be cool. Well, thinking about the humidity... Have you watched more than an hour of TV today? No; I haven't watched television in a long time. Do you keep magazines by your toilet? No. The last time you got dressed up, where did you go? I got my makeup done and put on a dress for a Halloween "witch" shoot with my friend and some other people. The pictures pretty much don't exist because they're blurry as shit and way too dark because we left too late. I don't know why we even left the house to do it by the time everyone figured their shit out. I was really disappointed because I thought Summer made me look really, really pretty. ;_; Did the one person who hurt you the most in your life apologize? Yes, but I don't know if he really meant it. He might have just wanted me off his back, but I kinda feel now that he meant it, at least regarding how it happened. Are you proud of who you are? Only in the sense that I think I have a good heart. Otherwise, no. I've accomplished so little. Have you ever been to Costco? We don't have those here, so no. Do/did you have to wear a uniform to your high school? No, thank Christ. Only in middle school. How many video games do you own? A whole lot. Have you ever been to a casino? If so, which one(s)? No. Have you ever visited a sex shop? No. How many sets of keys do you have for your house? One. Do you give spare keys to your place to your friends and family? Our landlord/family friend has one. Then obviously my sisters do, too. Have you ever ridden a bicycle through a busy city? Oh hell no. Do you use Instagram? How often do you post there? Yes, two for each of my photography "styles." I don't post a lot myself, but I react to stuff. When was the last time you high-fived someone? I believe the last time I was at my sister's and my nephew caught a Pokemon on his first throw in Pokemon GO. He and his sister LOVE that game; that's the first thing they ask to do when I come over, haha. Their dad doesn't like it because it's "evil" (which he finds most things, really...), and it's something I could roll my eyes into the back of my head about, but I still have to respect his parenting and ask if they can play it first. He let's 'em, just not long. He also took away the Pikachu plushy I gave Aubree because it's her favorite one. :^) Guess who doesn't fuckin like him lmao. Do you like writing? How often do you write? I love writing! I don't do it very much nowadays except through surveys, though. RP is kinda on pause, so surveys is really how I just get stuff out, even if it isn't creative. Are there any posters or artworks hanging in your living room? Artwork and family photos, yes. What's your favourite place to get pizza? I'm a basic bitch that loves her some Domino's. How many times have you been to the beach? Quite a few times. We live only like two hours away, and considering Myrtle Beach is a common dance competition location, we've been a couple handfuls of instances. Has there ever been a fire inside your house? Tell me the story. No. After we moved out of my childhood house though that we actually owned, the fucking idiots who were moving in completely roasted it to pitch by setting boxes on the goddamn stove and accidentally turning it on. The house had to be entirely rebuilt. My parents were livid considering it was THEIR house. Have you ever had a scary encounter with a wild animal? No. What was the best school project you remember doing? I actually really enjoyed the huge essay I did on toxic masculinity the last time I tried college. I've always been very firm about letting men be humans and not emotionless robots, but I learned a lot more while researching and writing. Name a video game you can play over and over again: Shadow of the Colossus is #1. I've beaten it at least 30 times, maybe even 40+; it's been too long since I've seen the save files. It's a relatively short game (you can beat it in less than like, four hours if you know what you're doing) and just very relaxing yet simultaneously absolutely epic to me. God, I want a PS4 to play the remaster, like beyond words. It looks incredible, and I want to try to get white Agro. Have you ever petted a cow, a sheep, or a pig? A pig, yes. I love pigs.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''you're gonna go far kid'' by the offspring

[headquarters90]

Family (Warrior of the Crown 8)

Pairing: Darkiplier x French Goddess!Reader

Words: 1,859

Warnings: Mentions of past suicidal thoughts 

Series Masterlist

A/N: It’s been a h o t m i n u t e and I apologize for that. Go ahead and let me know if you want to be put on a tag list because I am willing to do that. Don’t know when I’ll be back on track. Also, if you haven’t already, please take the time to read this. That is an update I did not that long ago (I think Sunday?). Thank you for your patience!

She wants to take away your lovers, Y/N. She plans on putting you at risk of turning to the darkness, continued to cycle through your head even after the meeting with Flinn and it has caused you to constantly space out to the point that someone who was in the room with you could scare you.

It was so bad that Dark demanded Sébastian to go fetch Hades or someone. Dark, the entity that hated other Gods being around. That how you found yourself surrounded by family and you blinked when you watch something fly across the table at Jean-Louis.

“You are such a pain,” Angel groaned as she leaned back in her seat. “You like André. I don’t see why you complain about him so much.”

“I do not like André,” Jean-Louis deadpanned. “That’s like saying I like Dark,” he added and you perked up a bit at the mention of him.

“I think you secretly like Dark,” Juliette commented from her seat beside her twin. “I mean, I think we all do. He’s helped Y/N more than anyone likes to admit, including the two of them.”

“However, he needs to learn to deal with Y/N like this,” Angel gestured towards you and you looked at her. “How are you doing?”

“Hypatia wants to take my possible lovers away,” you hesitated, shifting in your seat as your cousins’ eyes fell on you, “and she wants to put me more at risk of turning to the darkness.”

“We already have a plan in motion so don’t worry, alright?” Angel reached over, squeezing your hand. “Trust me.”

“What plan?” Jean-Louis questioned, furrowing his eyebrows as you looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Do you know this plan?”

You thought about it for a moment before shaking your head. Angel hadn’t come to you about anything expect on how to kill Azazel.

“The plan would be pointless if everyone knows,” Angel started and Juliette nodded, causing you and Jean-Louis to look at her, “The ones part of it knows.”

“Juliette?”

“Is one of them, yes,” she nodded and Jean-Louis scrunched his nose in annoyance.

“I don’t like that. Who else?” He questioned.

“Auntie, Hades, Dark, André, Apollo, and Sébastian.”

“Dark knows?” You questioned, looking at her as she nodded. “Why does Dark know?”

“You’ll see.”

“I don’t like that.”

“She questions why Dark but not Apollo or Sébastian,” Juliette snorted and you scrunched your nose. “So, since he’s not around, we can talk about it now.”

“I rather not.” You shifted in your spot and she raised an eyebrow.

“Y/N, we are here because Dark fetched us after you learned what Hypatia wants,” she pointed out.

“That doesn’t mean that anything.”

“Y/N,” Jean-Louis started, placing his hand in front of you. “I’m the God of Hate and I can tell that you’re in love with the entity.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Y/N-”

“Can we stop?”

“The Inuit’s does have information on Seraphina,” Sébasitan’s voice drifted into the library and you turned your head towards him, watching as he held up a file.

“Thank you.” You stood, walking towards him as you took it from him.

“You seem better,” he commented and Angel snorted as she leaned back in her seat.

“Apparently, just tease her about Dark and she seems to sober up,” Jean-Louis offered and you tensed before turning to stare at your cousin who sent you a grin.

“Why is there someone demanding to speak to you in your throne room?” Ares’ voice drifted into the library and you scrunched your nose before shaking your head at your sister’s annoyance. “Didn’t think you could cause someone to be angry with you, princess.”

“I believe I told you to stop calling me that,” you shot, pushing passed him, fighting back a glower as footsteps followed you.

“Y/N! Thank Goddess.”

Lifting your eyes to the voice, your heart dropped at the sight of blood dripping from her mouth.

“What happened?” You questioned, asking a servant for a chair as you approached her.

“Tried calling for mother but didn’t work out well. Where is she, by the way?” She questioned as your eyes lifted towards your sister who stepped into the throne room.

“Estella? How the-Don’t answer that.” Angel shook her head before shifting on her feet for a moment. “Should I get Auntie Eva?”

“Please,” Estella winced as you touched her face. “Any blood by chance?”

“Sébastian.”

“On it.”

“You seem to be doing well,” Estella mused and you raised an eyebrow at her, tilting her head back. “She knew who my mother was.”

“The one who attacked you?”

“Yes. She called her by Eva and not Dea. No one on Salizar’s side of the world follows Dea or the French Gods and Maverick doesn’t know who would know her true name outside of those who already do,” she voiced. “She also said something about you and someone called Dark? Who the Hell calls someone Dark?”

“Language,” your aunt’s voice drifted into the room and Estella rolled her eyes.

“Sébastian should be back with blood soon,” you told Eva, watching as she stepped forward. “What did she look like?”

“Tan skin with what I thought were tribal tattoos, vibrate blue eyes like Beckett’s was. Thought she was a psychic at first but then her markings glowed. She could possibly be a djinn. I did catch sight of her forearm for a quick moment and I could have sworn she had a similar mark to yours, Y/N, but with-”

“-Stars.”

Turning your head, your eyes met Dark’s before returning back to Estella who scrunched her nose.

“Why the Hell do you look like that dude Laci and Beckett watched?” She questioned and you raised an eyebrow. “They were mortals. They’ll do mortal things,” she waved you off before thanking Sébastian as he held out a mug to her. “Anyways, how does she know?”

“It’s best to be cautious from this on out, Estella,” you spoke, rubbing your forehead. “She’s part of the Warriors of Darkness and we’re currently having issues with them. I wasn’t aware that they knew how large this family goes. Maxence, can you call father and have him warn his other children? Gods’ know we don’t need more reason for them to hate us.”

~

“How large would you say your family is, doll?” Anti questioned and you lifted your eyes to him for a moment before dropping them back to your book. “I hope that what we found out-”

“It doesn’t,” you cut him off. “And the main reason why my family is so large is because of my father from before my mother and after my mother’s death. He was careless when he slept around so I have a lot of half-siblings and a majority of them don’t like Angel and me. That and my uncle, Jean-Paul, slept around before his wife as well so I probably have cousins that I’m unaware of.”

“What about the other uncle of yours?”

“Uncle Philippe? Many would avoid him. He’s the God of Sexual Longing. His wife, Marie, was the first to actually want to be with him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’ll have a kid here soon.”

“Seriously?” Anti voiced and you raised an eyebrow at him before turning your head to see Dark’s narrowed eyes. You took a moment to watch him before returning your eyes on the book. “You have nothing to say?”

“Should I?” You questioned, glancing up at the glitching entity with a raised eyebrow. “If the narrowing is about the Mark, it’s idiotic.”

“You two just need to talk. Jesus Christ.”

“It’s not a good idea to use his name. He likes to listen in whenever it’s said,” you chimed and Anti stared at you.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just unbelievable.”

You let out a hum before returning your eyes to the book, flipping through the pages.

“Did those Gods have information on her?” Dark questioned and you pointed towards the file on the desk. “Have you read it?”

“The moment Estella was gone,” you answered, watching from the corner of your eyes as he walked up to the table, opening the file. “It’s interesting to say the least.”

“She didn’t participate in what the others of her kind did and she turned to the Darkness?” He questioned. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well, actually, according to the book about the Warriors, the Warriors that get chosen are vastly different than a lot of their kind,” Anti offered and you lifted your head to stare at him. “Didn’t hide the book fast enough from me, remember?”

“Right. Didn’t think you read the whole thing,” you commented and Anti sent you a grin.

“Quick reader.”

“Apparently.”

“I need to read the book,” you heard Dark mutter before looking over at him with a tilt of your head.

“He’s not wrong,” you spoke, setting the book down as you made your way over to Dark. “Warriors are either vastly different than their kind or extremely rare. They’re background would be the reason why they are vastly different.”

“You said extremely rare?” Anti questioned and you lifted your eyes to him as you nodded.

“Yes. Isabelle’s kind is extremely rare. Only four have every been know to carry her blood, including her.”

“Four?”

“Her, her brother, her mother, and her father,” you answered, reaching forward to continue through the file.

“So rare it’s kept in the family,” Anti muttered and you nodded. “How are you and your family different from your kind?”

“If you have to question, you haven’t been around them long enough,” Dark shot and you raised an eyebrow at him. “Y/N-”

“-was the Goddess of Life wanting death,” you voiced and the two entities turned to face you. “No matter what my family tells you, I wasn’t going to amount to anything with how I was before the Great War. Treated everyone equally but I couldn’t shake their hands. Trained hard for years but someone raises a hand to fix my hair and I still flinched. Nightmares every night, flashbacks nearly every day. If it wasn’t for the fact that I would have caused the balance to shift and nearly destroy everything, I wouldn’t be here today.”

“And yet, you still see the Goddess you used to be,” Sébastian voiced from behind you and Dark and you turned your head to look at him. “I’ve finished warning the rest of your family.”

“No doubt they had a few choice words about Angel and I.”

“Quite of few, though there were some who made comments of a visit after everything. Maybe some are coming around after all.”

“Probably the same few who don’t mind us,” you hummed, reaching forward to grab your book. “I think I’m going to see about something to eat and ambrosia.”

“You need sleep, Y/N.”

“Yes, well, there are more important things at stake, Sébastian.”

From the corner of your eyes as you made your way to the door, you watched as Sébastian raised his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose with his eyes close before he seemed to have given Dark a pointed look.

#Darkiplier #darkiplier x reader #darkiplier x goddess!reader #darkiplier x french!goddess!reader #warrior of the crown series

[luke-o-lophus]

Coming Back to Life (Part 3)

Part 2 can be found here

Sam Wilson, Indian/Desi Reader, Bucky Barnes friendship

Warning: This episode has mention of attempted sexual assault. Apart from that, canon-typical violence and injuries, and conversations regarding these. Mention of smoking. Do tell me if I need to add more warnings/missing out on any warning.

Bucky took another drag of his cigarette, his phone pressed to his ear. In the dying light of the day, Sam could see his silhouette where he was standing in the balcony. Sam was on his fifth cup of coffee, sitting on his couch and flipping through some magazine. He could hear snippets of the conversation.

“....still at Sam’s...not yet....dunno Stevie...yeah...no you don’t have to...’kay...love you too....don’t you dare...yeah bye’‘

Sam wipes the tiny happy smile off his face before Bucky can see it (he’d never let him live that down). But times like this make him think of those years. Wondering if he was a guy who should be saved, or stopped. And now here Bucky was, on a phone with his century old lover, worrying over a friend who was still sleeping nearly twelve hours since she came home. The situation today is far from ideal, but it’s still days like this that still give him hope.

“You should stay”, Sam tells him as soon as he gets back to the living room. They’d tried to wake you up once, for lunch. You’d just opened your eyes with a blank stare, cowering slightly. Then recognition had sparked a bit, but you’d rolled over and continued to sleep. 

Bucky lets out a noise between a hum and a grunt, pondering whether he should sit, or go check up on you. It was past six, and you’d really need food and another dose of medicines soon. Also the fact was, he wasn’t very good at waiting. Especially when you were passed out, hurt and prone, and he didn’t know why.

“I think we should try again”, Sam says with a sigh, dropping his magazine. Bucky shrugs in response but follows eagerly. The guestroom is dark, the last glow of dusk peeping in from between curtain flaps. Sam flips on the light, and does a double take.

You're in bed, yeah, but curled up on yourself. Eyes open wide and lost somewhere in the distance, an unnatural glaze in your dark iris. Bucky recovers first, and covers the two strides to your bedside. He calls out your name softly, and your response is squeezing your eyes shut. A hand gingerly touches your forehead. Bucky's lips fall open at the jarring temperature difference between his cool vibranium and your forehead. "Sam, she's burning up", he whispers curtly. You blink your eyes open to the sight of both of them hovering over you.

"Am fine..", you insist, your voice small and rough from sleep. You try to offer a tiny lopsided smile,"Hey Buck. When'd you come?"

"Around six...In the morning.", He swipes some locks away from your clammy forehead. "When'd you wake up, doll?"

You look away at that question and make a move to sit up. You're grimacing the moment you lift your torso off the sheets; Sam steadies you silently as you lean back on the pillows Bucky fluffs up.

"I'm sorry", you whisper to no one in particular. "I... Should have told you I had a mission." Your words are spoken stiffly with obvious effort, you tried not to move your lips as much as possible.

"We can talk about that later...", Bucky offers an encouraging smile. You close your eyes with a sigh, letting Sam replace the blanket with a thicker one.

Bucky makes a move to get up for a cool washcloth but notes Sam's figure go still. He turns and quirks a brow at his expression, and the other man makes a quick motion with his head towards your legs. Bucky's blood runs cold when he follows that gaze.

Your shorts have ridden up in your sleep and the exposed flesh of your calf and thighs were marred with long purplish marks. Of fingers, gripping too hard? Looked that way. But, could be something else too, right? A quick glance to your face, eyes closed and blank, and another glance at Sam's face that looks this far from tortured. And he knows, the same thing's going on in Sam's head too. Bucky storms out of the room.

"What the fuck, Barnes", Sam hisses. He's standing inches from him in his kitchen, Bucky's fists flexing in anxiety.

"You know very well what the fuck." Bucky seethes, his blue eyes piercing into Sam's brown ones.

"How 'bout we let her tell us instead of making assumptions?"

"We could call Natasha...Or Wanda...Maybe she'll..."

"Man, she doesn't know them well. She trusts you, a lot."

Bucky looks up at that comment, his eyes softening somewhat. "She trusts us, Wilson. She did choose your place to crash." And that could be the biggest compliment Bucky has ever spoken aloud.

"Guys?", Your small worried voice makes them turn swiftly, to the sight of you leaning against the door frame, sheets wrapped around your form. You take a tentative step, supporting yourself with a hand on the wall. "It's not what it looks like", you whisper, lips and body trembling. Maybe, fever...maybe, nerves. You weren't sure.

"Jesus Christ" , Sam swears. Walking over, he takes your hand in his and guides you to the nearby couch. "Grab an ice pack, Barnes", he calls over his shoulder. His fingers gingerly touch your cheek that was more swollen around the cut. "You didn't have to get out of bed, tiger", he soothes you in his warm voice.

"You were worrying", you argue. After a pause, you blurt out, "My mission was successful, but it didn't go as planned."

The couch dips beside you where Bucky sits; he's waiting for you to go on, ice pack forgotten in his left hand. Gentle strokes on your cheek have you look up to Sam. He is nodding, egging you to go on.

"It was simple", you shrug. "It was this rich white guy who runs an illegal weapons ring as a side business. Has connections with..Terrorist organizations, trafficking rings. Has location of important bases. And apparently a 'taste in exotic young women'. The last words are spoken with obvious disgust, makes both men clench their jaws.

"You're not supposed to go solo on stuff like this", Bucky chides gently, dropping the ice pack to the floor before he can unwittingly ruin it with a squeeze.

You wring your fingers, turning to face him. Sam pulls a chair to sit; Bucky's cold metal fingers cup your cheek in the gentlest hold possible.

"Wasn't alone...." You whisper breathlessly. The men share a glance and Sam speaks up.

"Who was with you?"

"Harry"

"Harrison Drew? Agent 35?"

"Yeah..."

"Where's he now? In the hospital or..."

"Home....I think"

"How's he faring?"

You suck in a breath, pulling back from Bucky's touch. "He's doing well, yeah", you say, your head hanging. Tears brim in your eyes, you sniffle, not meeting their gaze.

"Sweetheart, can you tell us what happened, please?", Bucky whispers. "Or do you want us to call Wanda or..."

"I can", you interrupt indigantly. "You know I tell you guys everything", your eyes shine with unshed tears when you look up.

"We know", Sam is quick to comfort. "Of course, but if.."

"I don't want...you to freak out. Or..I don't know...I know you care about me...I don't want to be the reason Harry...."

"What'd Harrison do?", Bucky's voice has a sharp edge.

"I'm...I'm sure it was a misunderstanding", you try to reason.

"Yeah?", Sam holds your hands to give a comforting squeeze, encouraging you to continue.

"Hmm...", You hum. "There's no other reason why he'd turn off his comms, right, and..."

"What?"

"Yeah and it was fully charged so it couldn't have run out. The plan was to seduce the guy and let him take me to his place..Harry would follow and download the data while I kept him distracted, then kill him and get out, but....."

"But?"

"Harry didn't follow from the bar...I thought he hadn't noticed we left. I tried to contact him...Send the emergency signal when we reached...I thought he was coming but...The guy brought over two more people...And...I..Kept up the game, tapping out the signals...He, he didn't..."

"What... the hell", Bucky whispers.

"How'd you get out, tiger?", Sam coaxes you gently. You swallow and blink, tears spilling out at that motion and drawing a wet line down each cheek.

"When they were....You know..You saw the marks right? I know you did. I knew I had to get out before they could...Do it. But my hands were tied up... this freaky game of theirs...And I...For a moment..." A small sob rips from your throat. "This was..Was stupid but...For a moment I really thought I wouldn't make it. I'd never see you guys again and even if I did...I don't know how I'd...And I hadn't even told you I was going and...No one was coming with help 'cause...They thought Harry was with me and..."

Bucky's face, the tips of his ears, they're red. He's fuming with guarded anger. Sam is still too, his eyes wide.

"But yeah...Long story short...I broke out before they could do anything else...And..You know the rest, all is well.."

"Where...Was.. Harrison?", Bucky's voice is dangerously low and even Sam glances towards him in concern.

"In...In front of the bar? He drove me here."

"And..He just gave you his jacket? That's all?"

"N-no...That was one of the target's...I felt..Like I needed more cover..."

Sam sighs deeply, rubbing his face and sending the other man a gaze that told him to zip it for now.

"Sweetheart...You know how serious that breach is, right? Even if we don't take action, what he did would warrant a suspension anyway. Maybe more."

"He..He said he'll fill the paperwork..And report..."

Sam balks at that. "He..Said that? He had the fucking audacity to suggest that?"

The two men watch you finally break down in heaving sobs. "I..I thought he cared..I thought he actually cared, I thought after this mission I might even...", You hiccup.

Your face crumples in pain and guilt and you choke on another sob. "I ...I wasn't thinking Sammy...I agreed to it...He told me in the car he'd do it and...I just couldn't argue...I don't wanna go on a mission with him again Sammy and..Oh god I..I just let him do all this to me..."

They let you cry. Bucky quietly wraps an arm around your shoulders and Sam's thumb strokes on your palm. They ground you, but don't ask you to stop, or say anything for that matter. You cry till the sobs have ebbed to sniffles, then all is quiet. When you come to yourself again, you're resting your head on Bucky's shoulder, and Sam is wiping the tears from your cheeks.

"You people...Have raised my standards in men", you attempt at joking. Bucky snorts, relieved to see you pull yourself together. His fingers stroke through your hair in slow soothing motions.

"Men are stupid, and irresponsible", he adds.

"You're a man, married to a man", you deadpan, making Sam chuckle.

"That changes nothing", Bucky huffs.

"You did amazing, okay?", Sam slides onto the couch on your other side. "You were strong, and damn brave. I'm proud of you." You give him a lazy grin, your eyes already closing.

"We'll deal with this tomorrow, rest up now. You're safe."

That word alone is enough to send you into peaceful slumber.

A/N: This was supposed to be a oneshot but it's turning into a series! Part 4 is in my head already!

#bucky barnes #sam x reader #sambucky #sam wilson #falcon and winter soldier #the falcon #falcon #winter solider x reader #winter soldier #bucky x reader #fluff #hurt/comfort #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson x reader #marvel fanfiction #sambucky fanfiction #indian reader #desi #desi reader #marvel x reader #mission gone wrong #brotp

[sparrowsabre7]

Used a guide, because life is short and this game is long. So I'm meant to talk to Fragile by selecting Fragile jump in my room. I guess that makes sense but given it's only ever been for fast travel not sure how I would have worked that out as a method of communicating, or that Fragile could put you into a beach.

It's quite a nice story beat, that Fragile can't jump to Amelie as previously explained, but she can jump to Sam and Sam can get to Amelie through the things that bind each of them like knots on a strand. It may be a little on the nose but it still works, as does perhaps the first moment of consensual touch Sam allows in the game, after Fragile quietly says "I'll have to touch you" and he silently accepts. For all his weird sexualisation of some scenarios and badly worded dialogue, Kojima can still sell emotional beats when he needs to.

On the beach at last; ok, Higgs is Darth Vader now and has force powers. He creates a BT spiderweb and sets Amelie at the centre before a fourth wall breaking monologue about stick vs rope and one last boss fight: no items, final destination, Fox only.

It's Strandin' Time!

Ok this kind of... blows. It's a stealth segment where he can find out where you are almost instantly. Why the fuck wouldn't you take any weapons Sam? It's really hard to break line of sight. I know I need to throw the boxes to distract him but it's not working. Did manage to yeet one right in his dumb fucking face though. Didn't see that coming Mr. God Particle.

Ah fuck this; LEEROOOOOY mmJENKINS!! Decked the shit out of him then pivoted to bind and then kick the shit out of him some more. God, that's satisfying.

After a few rounds of that, "I don't need a gun Sam". Brave of you to say half way through the fight dickwad. Come at me.

When you were partying, I studied the strand. When you were learning how to control BTs, I mastered the parry mechanic. While you wasted your days at the gym in pursuit of vanity, I cultivated inner strength. And now that the world is on fire and the barbarians are at the gate you have the audacity to come to me for a boss fight and expect victory. Welcome to dirt, punk.

Oh, and apparently you don't need a gun but do need grenades. You're a real honourable warrior, Higgs. Truly the last of the samurai.

Kicked out a Snake-like "Aaaaaah" from him and it's over.

No. Wait. Round 3. "We got DOOMS, Sam! This was only ever gonna end one way." Ok, I... I don't know what that means but now we're in Tekken apparently. Health bars above our heads and everything. Oh no, it's Mortal Kombat, with the slow mo jaw break.

This...

This is kind of a shitty end to a boss fight... I'm literally hammering attack and winning it's just so incongruous with the rest of the game, should have left it at stage 2.

It's got dramatic music like it's meant to be the Snake and Liquid fight in MGS4 but I have no emotional connection to Higgs, in-game or out. He's just kind of a shithead, there's no brotherly bond here and he's not been established enough.

Ah multiple headbutts finisher. It is literally trying to be that MGS4 fight.

I know this isn't the end since Cliff's thing is still unresolved, but it is definitely trying hard to feel that way.

Oh shut the fuck up Higgs, stop with your "you won but still lost" bullshit. Fragile, kill the fuck out of him, please. Ugh, don't repeat I'm not that Fragile like it's your catchphrase.

Ha! Fuck you Higgs! Run out of BT juice. Oh... was that it? One punch. Also, don't just repeat "You're damaged goods" back to him like you're in a Joss Whedon film and that's an adequate comeback. Wow after a strong start this not-finale has been super anti-climactic.

Oh nope,she is going to shoot him. But offscreen. Fragile managed to bring Lou over too, nice. "Where should I take you?" Fragile asks, before Amelie butts in with "He doesn't need you, he's got me." Alright, calm down. Jealous much. But Sam is like "yeah you should go." Glad Fragile at least calls them both out on it.

Ok, so now Amelie says she could have left at any time basically, but did it to force Sam to connect the Chiral network.

And now we're "Mario and Princess Beach" running back home.

And now everything has gone insane. Now Bridget is here but maybe she's also Amelie and Die-Hardman is here to kill Bridget for fucking the world up and now Cliff is here and he knows Die-Hardman (who's real name is John) and Bridget is sending him after Sam but now she's Amelie again and behind Sam and tells him to run by pushing him in the sea, causing him to repatriate but in the repatriation sequence it's not BB inside Sam but one of those horrid dolls.

What the FUCK.

Ok and now I'm back in my room and Deadman tells me Amelie ported me here and then checked out to "finish what Bridget started" which I'm guessing may still mean blow up the world or the beach or something. Christ it has got very dense very quickly.

"We've been operating on the assumption, Higgs was controlling Cliff"; have we? News to me, I always assumed they were two separate antagonists given the Battlefield was entirely separate from Higgs' brand of goopy nonsense. So now Cliff has Amelie AND Die-Hardman on the beach. Great so things have gotten worse. Now Fragile can't port me to the beach either because reasons.

So I have to walk all the way back East all the fucking way because she transported all the secondary characters before me.

Thanks a fucking lot. This has been a real kick me while I'm down moment.

At least I don't need to carry anything there save protection and climbing gear. Hope I can at least drive some of it.

Ooh more flashback time. Looks like Bridget was intending to use BB as a sacrifice to build the UCA, unclear if by causing the Death Stranding or somehow starting the Chiral network.

Anyway now I'm walking these 6k or whatever back to Lake Knot. Some zipline help but one asshole put the zipline where the dismount is off a cliff. Sam echoes this though with a "nice zipline, asshole".

I also have no equipment, so stopping off at the paleontologist to gear up. Nice, a free bike too. Everything's coming up Bridges.

Oh fuck off Deadman, I don't want a Cliff notes session (pun intended), especially when you're just restating a bunch of theories. So Cliff wants BB to b whole, yep already gathered, the battlefield is tied to him due to his anger dragging his hellscape through with him. Sure, cool, can I get back to my drive now?

Oh come on... BTs can now spawn as catchers immediately, don't even need to grab you. Fuck this, I'm running. Sorry purple bike!

Jesus fucking christ Deadman, fuck OFF. Blah blah secret BB experiements were to make BT detectors but actually they were designed to make the Chiral network like I thought.

Oh.

They made the network by building all the cities with a BB integrated into each one.

Jesus Fucking Christ, I didn't see that coming...

That's some heavy shit man. This is that episode of Doctor Who with the space whale heavy.

While I ponder that horrific choice I'll inevitably have to make I am enjoying coming back and seeing how much bigger the highways have gotten in my absence. It's so fun to boost down them on a trike.

Another call from Deadman. Cliff put his BB in the care of the scientists but didn't know they were going to use the BB for the Chiral network, I assume he thought the experiments were benign per the lie told. Deadman says he's unsure how he was able to arrive on Bridget's beach and that there must be more to their connection so I'm going to go ahead and guess, he's Sam's father as well as the BB's, or he's a sibling of Bridget.

Fucking hell, another call from Deadman. Jesus give it a rest. No apparent connection between Die-Hardman and Bridget because his past has all been redacted, also suggested that Die-Hardman had no connection with Amelie/Bridget and that it's DH connection to Cliff that allowed him access to Bridget/Amelie's beach. God my head hurts.

Heartman's saying that the beaches are beginning to merge into a single seam, aside from the battlefield and Heartman's beaches. Amelie may have some kind of super bridge that controls all beaches which further my theory that she was BB patient zero.

Oh boy, big ol' Chiral storm, looks like it's battlefield time.

Flashback time, Cliff gives a sad speech about being a father and it looks like Die-Hardman killed Cliff under Bridget's orders.

Ok we're in Vietnam now and Cliff's wearing DH's mask. Comparatively this opener is less badass than the WWI and II battlefields but only in comparison. In any other games this would be a ridiculously cool moment. The arena itself excels as always, still not sure I could pick a favourite. Vietnam feels more linear but the mix of violent explosions, fire and oppressive silence and darkness work so well together.

Ok, I was wrong, actually reaching Cliff gives a supremely cool scene of Cliff and co marching through a lake of fire.

Another intense game of cat and mouse later and Cliff is finally down.

It's actually a really nice moment of emotional catharsis. Cliff begins to whistle a tune to BB and Sam completes it. It's not a big shock reveal, just a quiet mutual realisation that Cliff is Sam's father. They embrace and then a gunshot is heard and Cliff disappears, having first transitioned from combat gear to a suit, I hope implying his becoming whole and at peace. Despite minimal development until this past hour of exposition, Cliff has been a much more successful antagonist compared with Higgs.

Another flashback, DH is saying that Cliff should escape with his BB, but he will be forced to carry out any orders Bridget gives, hence the previous flashback. Seems DH was one of Cliff's soldiers. Still unclear if the woman lying on the bed, who is Cliff's wife, is the same person as Bridget. It's deliberately vague and when Bridget approached the BB in a previous scene her face was covered with DH'S mask.

Oh... Sam seems to think Cliff is Lou's father but that very much wasn't my take away from that scene. Deadman comes along with a recording of DH, says that Amelie left a message for him to get to the beach with one of Cliff's dolls. He knows it's a trap but plays along anyway and says Amelie also has no recorded past and made the point no one's ever met her in person. Seems to point to the fact that she may only exist on the beach.

DH says that her soul remained on the beach while her body deteriorated in the real world, but with high DOOMs abilities. She could then travel to the beach body and soul by the time she was 20 and the president said never contact Amelie except by hologram, but once the Chiral network was up and running DH checked the old records:

Bridget had uterine cancer in her 20s and never had children, yet Amelie is the spit of a younger Bridget, so... what's the connection?

Ok, now Fragile's here, and says Amelie was behind Higgs, she led the Demens and he abandoned Fragile when Amelie showed up, began the extinction initiative. She could control BTs and she was the one who turned Higgs into Homo Demens, able to command BTs at will. There was no BB in Higgs' chest pack either, only another of the dolls Cliff had.

But if that's all true, then why did she not just trigger the death stranding when Sam competed the network? Why did she need Sam to kill Higgs?

Another chapter closes but I feel we've still got a ways to go.

#sparrowsabre7 plays death stranding #death stranding