To the small statured Indian woman who doesn’t come every week, who has a beautiful black ink tattoo across her shoulder blade, who attacks the bag like it fights back, and she has vowed to win at any cost.
To the middle aged woman with a mousey, innocent librarian’s face and a lithe body that could dead-lift the moon, who uses two bags if there’s enough room in class, who doesn’t tire easy, who doesn’t make a sound.
To the black woman with strong arms and a belly and big thighs who sweats and fights and fights and laughs through her own struggling, who talked to me for the first time today and had a beautiful Caribbean accent.
To the pale skinned, heavy-set, friendly-faced Mom of four who loves talking about her kids while we all stretch, who said to me “oh I love EMTS, they’ve helped me a lot, bless you” when she learned what I do when I’m not here, who uses weights far heavier than the ones I can handle.
To whichever woman in the part of the room I cannot see makes loud, heaving grunting sounds while we do ab work on the padded floor.
To our instructor who is wrinkled and tanned and pure muscle, who sings along to the songs into her headset microphone, who laughs at us and with us, who reminds me of my mother.
I fall in love a little bit every week, the way we encourage and tease and feed off each other. Women making other women stronger.
Claire stopped, and faced her intruder. “And you are?” she asked, hands on hips.
James paused. He gave a ghost of a smile. “Sorry. I’m Detective Sergeant James Fraser,” he stepped forward to shake her hand. “And a body was removed from a crime scene before I got there. So, I’m a wee bit fashed. Didna mean to be so rude.”
Claire was impressed. She didn’t know too many officers who admitted to being frazzled. They were always about control, but this one looked a bit sheepish. She took his hand. It was warm, firm, and swallowed her own. She looked into his face, and was met with a pair of deep blue eyes. Unwavering. Honest eyes.
Something danced on the edge of her mind.
“The body is here,” Claire said, finally letting go. “I haven’t started yet. I need to prepare first.”
James nodded. The bones of her hand were delicate. Hard to imagine this waif of a woman tearing through dead people.
“Can I see him? I mean, while you do that.” James asked.
Claire considered for a moment. “No. You can stay if you like, and watch the autopsy, but no. I won’t have evidence contaminated.”
“Aye,” James said. “I’ll wait.”
Claire prepared the table, gathered her necessary instruments on a tray, gowned herself, and then went for the body. When she was ready she adjusted her microphone, and got to work.
She was thorough, James could see that. She dictated everything, cataloged each piece of clothing, noted every scar, birthmark, and tattoo. He watched her work. Steadily. Carefully. Confidently. Her voice was strong, competent, and quite easy to listen to. She captured his attention, in more ways than one. Curls riotous around her head, which sometimes hid her face. Her whisky coloured eyes never missed a thing. She stirred him in ways a female hadn’t in a long while, which was why he found himself wondering what she looked like under that voluminous lab coat.
She was, quite simply, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
And the most interesting.
Because at one point he could have sworn he’d seen her close her eyes and shake her head, as if something was buzzing around inside her brain. When she opened her eyes, she made a quick notation on a legal pad that sat off to the side, but did not verbalize it. An off-the-record note.
He maneuvered his body slowly so as not to arouse suspicion. Taking his time, he crept around the table to see the paper.
Her handwriting was difficult to make out. It looked like a poison, followed by what might have been Stranger.
James stared at Claire. A tiny shiver ran down his spine. Now how on earth would she know that?
James sat at his desk. It was late. Very late. He was looking over the M.E.’s notes. Claire’s notes.
Tapping the fingers of his right hand, he kept staring at the last line in the report.
“Patient found to have excess saliva build up, showing signs of a breakdown of the muscle tissue, kidney failure, excess toxins in the bloodstream, as well as muscle tissue byproducts in the blood, signs of respiratory failure. Cause of death: poison.”
James couldn’t stop thinking about her momentary lapse, and the note on her legal pad. A note she made before cutting the body open.
It’s like she “saw” it, before she saw it.
That ignited his superstitious Scottish mind. It brought to mind the old Gaelic words parents used to scare little kids into following rules. Words like sìthiche, Bana-bhuidseach. He didn’t believe in fairies, or witches, but he wasn’t going to renounce them outright either. His culture was still his culture, after all.
But the woman intrigued him. In many, many ways.
Claire lay in her bed thinking about her first autopsy at Scotland Yard. She’d been careful in her notes, and in her dictation. She knew what to look for, and made sure to find the physical symptoms to support her knowledge.
Her gift was a blessing and a curse.
She’d never meant to have an audience, but she thought she’d hid it well. It was a small vision, and for that she was grateful. The bigger ones sometimes caused her to faint. The Detective had been serious, quiet. He didn’t ask questions, or interrupt her work.
But he was a distraction. A damn big one. With the most extraordinary hair, all copper, and gold. Intelligence poured from those piercing blue eyes.
She closed her eyes and saw him again, watching her. Always watching her.
For fifteen years, John had to look at the words “my friend loves you” on his arm, wondering why his soulmate didn’t love him. But when he meets his soulmate at a book signing, he finally gets the context those words were meant in.
John absently sipped at his coffee as he continued to smile
at the next person in line.
“Who’s it for?” he asked, flipping open the book with his
“Amelia. Amelia Pond.”
“Amelia Pond,” he repeated as he scrawled the name, and then
his own signature. Well, his nom de plume signature. Who in their right mind
would name their child ‘The Doctor’?
When he’d first published his debut novel nearly five years
ago, he’d never dreamed it would become an overnight sensation, and make him
one of the most popular authors of the century. He’d never imagined people
would enjoy his silly little collections of short stories about an alien from a far-off planet
that owned a time and space ship and sailed around the universe, traveling and
causing problems as often as he fixed them. The premise itself was quite
ridiculous, but the fact that he’d taken his pseudonym from his main character’s
“It’s like Lemony Snicket,” he’d always explained during his
book tours, and the public seemed to love it. Even now, five years later, his
stats were only getting better with every new book he came out with.
Summary: Y/N has been trapped by the Dolan gang for a little bit now and she tries to escape, but she gets caught and now she has to face the wrath of the head of the gang, Ethan.
Warnings FOR ENTIRE SERIES: Drugs/sexual assault/Violence/Daddy kink
A/N: Twins are older in this. So I’ve never wrote anything about these subjects before and at any point if you are uncomfortable please stop reading! Also, requests are on hold until I finish the series! Still open, just won’t be posting! Now without further ado, I present Drug Lord Ethan
“What do you think you’re doing Y/N?” He asked. I slowly turn around, to where I see a familiar face. He looked like the guy in the room earlier, but his face looked softer. He was wearing a white t-shirt which I knew the guy earlier wasn’t wearing. I see he has a tattooed sleeve on his arm. On his shoulder, there was a profile of a woman in the tattoo as she was surrounded with flowers, birds, and many other beautiful things. She has curly hair and soft eyes. She looked to be staring directly in my eyes as her lips softly puckered together. I could see Mother Mary on his forearm. “Hello?” He asked me again. I inhaled sharply still unable to speak. “Look come on back inside. If Ethan knows you’re out here–”
“Ethan?” I questioned, and the guy knew he messed up.
“Dolan. He’s our head and my twin brother.” The guy answers. I nod my head.
“Gray what are you–” A girl walks outside from the back. She is so gorgeous. She has mixed skin and tattoos all up and down her arms. I believe she even has tattoos on her legs as I see her ankles are tatted but she’s wearing jeans. She was curvy and about 5’3, but her black boots may have added to her height. “Is this her?” She asks pointing at me.
“Yeah this is Y/N. Y/N this is Angie.” Gray introduces.
“Wait I’m confused. Are you being kept here too?” I asked and the two started laughing
“No I’m soon to be Mrs. Grayson Dolan.” She kisses his cheek which he smiles. “Now you’re the Kelley girl right? I’ve heard about you.” She asks me and I nod. I was oddly intimidated by her, but she was so gorgeous.
“What have you heard?” I asked, but then we are interrupted by Grayson.
“Hey we can talk later. Let’s get you back inside before Ethan notices you’re missing.” Grayson demands as Angie gets behind me and grabs one arm while Grayson grabs the other. “All of the guys went out and Ethan was sleeping when I last checked so I think we can sneak you back in your room no trouble.” Grayson states as they walk me back inside the house. “Be quiet.” Grayson hushes. We walk down the hall and Grayson and Angie walked me into the room. Grayson walked over to the window and he looked at it then looked to me. “How did you get out?” He asked me.
“Through the window? Why?” He looked at the window. Angie walked over to him.
“How? There’s bars on the window now.” I stood up and walked over to where he was standing. The left over glass had been knocked out and bars had been placed on the window.
“There weren’t bars when I got out. It was just glass. Someone had to have put these bars on here recently.” I stammered in shock.
“You’re right. Someone did.” A voice boomed. I let out a small yelp as I turn around to see Ethan leaning against the door frame. He was shirtless wearing black sweatpants. His hair was messy like he just woke up. His red streak was all over the place. He had numerous scars all over his chest and a few tattoos, but not as many as Grayson and Angie. He has a matching Mother Mary on his forearm and then he has some roman numerals across his chest with a cross. He has a half sleeve on his right arm.
“Looks like Y/N tried to escape and you found her. Were you planning on telling me or just bring her back here and expect me not to know anything?” Ethan walks into the room towards me. I cower behind Angie and Grayson gets in front of the both of us which sends Ethan back a bit.
“E stop. She’s scared okay? Ease up on her.” Grayson defends. Ethan’s pupils were rather large as if he had been doing drugs or drinking or some other altering substance. He just stands there and looks to me and then to Grayson. “Eth–” Ethan cuts Grayson off with his hand in the shape of a hook clocking Grayson straight in the jaw, sending him to the ground, hitting his head on the dresser.
“Ethan! What the hell was that for?” Angie screamed as she got on her knees next to Grayson. Ethan doesn’t say anything, but he stares blankly before his gaze turns to me. He grabbed my wrist hard and started to pull my arm hard. His hand wrapped completely around my wrist and his fingers even overlapped. I heard Angie shout something, but I couldn’t make out what she said. Ethan dragged me into a room which I looked around. It was an average looking bedroom. I mean it was a little dark, but that was because he was a drug dealer. I noticed a bottle of Jack Daniels along with half of a blunt in an ashtray on his night stand. He then pushed me on the bed as he slammed the bedroom door and locked it. I got off of the bed and I looked at him confused.
“Shut up!” He shouts which I listen. “You’re in a lot of trouble sweetheart. Like do you know what could have happened if you were to go out there and tell people about us? Hell if you could make it out there.” Ethan scoffs. I pursed my lips together annoyed.
“I miss my boyfriend. I love him! Have you ever loved anyone?” I started to chuckle as I was also feeling brave. “Oh who am I kidding? Of course not, because all you do is look out for yourself. You’re incapable of love.” I laughed while shaking my head. I felt extremely confident for some reason. Ethan was just staring at me with his jaw tightened. I started laughing again. “Ethan Dolan loving someone?” I scoffed at the idea. I then started applauding. “Good show Ethan. Good fucking show.” I stopped laughing when I feel my back being slammed against the wall. I let out a yelp, but Ethan’s hand immediately grabs my throat.
I’m trembling under his grasp. He leans in close to my ear and whispers something barely audible, but I heard every word he spoke to me.
“You’re not getting dinner tonight.”. He growls in my ear which I swallow deeply. I throw my head back as I start to tear up in my eyes. He then pulls my shirt down a little bit revealing my collarbone a bit more. He then pressed his lips against my skin as he roughly kissed my collarbone. I bit my bottom lip as I try to suppress a moan. His free hand grabs my breast as he softly gives it a squeeze. I grinded my hips upwards towards him. I felt him grin against my skin. “Baby girl don’t let daddy know you like that.” I inhaled deeply as Ethan kept kissing my collarbone. “Fuck it this is in the way.” He then ripped my shirt in half and then gave me a hard kiss, but I turned away from him so he forces me to look him in the eyes as he kisses me harshly.
He looked looked down in between us. He lifts his hand from my throat and pulls his sweatpants down. I could see he had a rather large hard on through his boxers.
“No.” I mumbled and Ethan started chuckling.“You think you have a choice? You tried to leave so now you have to face the consequences. Plus this is your dinner for tonight.” He snickered. I swallowed hard. I’ve never touched another man like this except for Justin. I’ve never done anything like this with another man besides Justin.
“Ethan.” I begged but he raised his hand to stop me.
“Daddy.” He answered. He placed his hand gently on my cheek. The pad of his thumbs wiped one of my tears away.
“Do I have to daddy?” I asked which caused him to smile.“Well it’s not going to suck itself baby girl. You did this to yourself so now you have to accept the punishment.” I started to breathe heavily, before I got on my knees. I wrapped my small hand around his long shaft through his boxers as I slowly pumped him. Ethan let out a groan. I pulled his black boxers down which revealed more scars. His dick sprang out as I placed my hand around him. I looked up at him and he nodded. “Fucking do it Y/N.” He groans and I do. I wrap my lips around his tip as I suck off some of the precum. I place him deeper in my mouth and I bob my head back and forth. He grips my hair and creates a ponytail while I’m still bobbing. I puff out my cheeks which makes him push himself deeper in my mouth. I gagged a few times which made him moan. “Fuck baby girl you’re doing so good.” He starts thrusting in my mouth hard which was making me choke. I would cough a few times, but that didn’t stop him. I moaned onto his dick which I always knew made Justin cum because of the vibrations. He started moaning again and he sped up his pace with thrusting in my mouth. I moaned as I grabbed the base of his penis and bobbed my head faster. I felt him start to twitch. I pushed his penis as far back in my throat as I can. I don’t know what a drug dealer’s cum tastes like, but I had no interest in finding out. He grunts “swallow every drop for me baby girl.” Then his cum shot down the back of my throat. I hang my mouth open while he pulls his dick out.
Ethan slides his boxers on as I fix myself up a little bit. “Angie should have more clothes for you in your room.” I nodded not really caring anymore. He grabbed some shirt that was on his hamper then turned back to me. “You okay?” He asked acting like he cared.
“Yeah I just want to go back to my room.” I answered coldly. I had nothing to say to him. I just wanted to go back home and call Justin. I wanted to tell him I was okay so he wouldn’t be worried. Ethan looked out his window.
“Okay well Angie is making some chicken Alfredo tonight if you’re hungry. It’s just going to be Gray and Angie there so you don’t have to worry about me.” He chuckled but I just stood there coldly. The air hitting my chest made me want to curl up in bed and cry. I didn’t care about eating or Ethan.
“Where will the other guys be?” I asked very mono toned. I avoided making eye contact so I stared at the ground.
“With me.” He snapped which made me wince. “Don’t ask questions that don’t concern you sweetheart.” He demanded and I nodded acknowledging I understood. It was probably drug or gang related, so I decided to keep to myself. “Go get something to eat Y/N.” He commands, but I just shook my head.
“I’ve lost my appetite.” I answered letting out a sigh. He just shrugged and left the room to which I sat on his bed. He popped back into the room.
“Hey don’t cry in my room okay? This is my room.” He chuckled as he smiled. I sniffled and stood to my feet, but he hollers at me. “Hey Y/N!” I turn thinking he was going to apologize to me. “Best blow job ever. Justin was a real lucky dude.” I shoved passed him to get down the hall. I get to my room and I throw myself on the bed as I start to sob uncontrollably.