cleaning your teeth with a knife

anonymous asked:

Can you do HCs about Dallas saving you from being jumped by socs and keeps you over for the rest of the night?


- honestly lets be really he only helped you cuz he has had his eye on you for a while

- so like one night he would see you walking alone at night from his window at Buck’s and be like… ;))))))

- he would walk down and sorta kinda follow you but then he heard the car coming before you did and he hid 

- he watched the socs jump out and corner you and he was just a little (a lot) pissed off



- it would be Bob honestly, he’s a dick

- Dallas would lowkey freak out but try and act cool

- ‘Just give me the broad man.’

- ‘No i think ill take her.’


- you have a couple of scratches from the blade and a few bruises 

- ‘Hey its real late, man. maybe you should come back with me to be safe ya know?’

- you agree

- once you get back to his ‘place’ he is all like awkward and like sorry its not much but it works



- you guys had a moment 

- but the little shit ruins it with his smirk

- ‘You really got yourself in a situation huh doll?’

- ‘Ya but listen, thank you for helping me out there.’

- ‘Dont worry doll any time you need help ill be there.’

- he is such the little shit

- you guys migrate to his bed and you guys are kinda just sitting there staring at each other and he starts interviewing you

- and i mean like INTERVIEWING you

- name number address favorite color name of your first pet birthday

- tbh you are kinda worried he is trying to steal your credit card info (did they even have credit cards lol??? ok i did my research they were, they started in like the 50′s)


- you could tell he was getting tired but like he was still trying to stay up

- you were answering one of his many questions when he slowly leaned in and kissed you mid sentence and pulled away slowly smirking

- ‘You talk a lot.’

- he would lazily whisper ‘be my girl’ after that and oh mah gahd he is a tiny bug

- you guys fall asleep holding hands

- in the morning he is all excited and quirky but like is trying to hide

- insists he walks you home

LAST RESORT: What to pack if you're going to be on your own

 Some babies are in not-so-great situations. Momma doesn’t exactly condone running away, but if you are going to, at least be properly prepared!

  • Water bottles
  • Good boots
  • Phone
  • High-end garbage bags
  • Ear plugs
  • Multipurpose knife
  • Weatherproof backpack
  • Toothbrush
  • Baking powder (for brushing teeth, cleaning, and deodorizing your shoes.)
  • Multivitamins
  • Map
  • A light. A flashlight works, but a head-mounted one would be perfect.
  • Sleeping bag + compression sack
  • Layers of clothing made out of wool and synthetic materials. Cotton takes forever to dry.
  • UNDERWEAR. Preferably fast-drying.
  • Four pairs of good wool or synthetic socks
  • Set of dark clothes
  • Set of nice clothes
  • Small sewing kit
  • large ziploc bags
  • Water purification. Either a filter straw or the tablets.
  • A good TRAVEL towel
  • METAL cup or bowl
  • Hat with a brim to keep the sun away
  • Rain poncho
  • Tarp
Blood Lose

pairing: Dean x Reader

fandom: supernatural

request: Hey 😊 Could you do a reader x Dean where the reader lets Benny drink some of her blood to help him heal after being seriously hurt and Dean gets super jealous? Thank you!! 

@nekodemon73 @kumpmk @is-that-not-something @un-education @bookswillfindyouaway

When Benny came back, blood was streaming down his face, slowly trickling to the ground where it gathered in a little pool.
He was a vampire and strong but even the most powerful person couldn’t survive that much blood lose.
“Oh my god…Benny!”
You hurry over and catch him before he hits the ground full force. There wasn’t much that could help him. He wasn’t a human, simply patching him up wouldn’t work.
Blood. He needed blood.
The blade you always carry at your side slices open the inside of your arm without thinking and you press it against his mouth to let him drink.
You sat slouched against the wall with Benny in your arms, not really knowing what to do until the door finally opened and Dean walked in. His gaze quickly found yours, looking shocked for a moment before he completely took the scene in.
“What happened here?”
“I have no idea he came home like this…Dean I didn’t know what to do. Will he survive?”
“What did you…?”

He looks at your bleeding arm, an odd expression crossing his face.  
“I gave him some blood. I thought that might help.”
“He’ll live don’t worry. Go get cleaned I take care of him.”

You quickly took a shower to clean off all the blood and sat down on the couch with some bandages in hand.
“Here.” Dean holds out his hand to take the bandages from you after he joined you.
“Is he okay?”
“Yes but you aren’t, don’t be so reckless all the time. You could have bled out there too if your knife went too deep or…”

“You worry too much.” You smile at him while he cleans the wound and patches you up.
“You don’t worry enough.” He puts everything away, leans back and regards you with a strange look that you can’t place.

Dean moves fast. In one swift motion you’re pushed down with your hands above your head, unable to move.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love that you always want to help everyone but…” His mouth connects with your neck, sucking the soft skin between his teeth, “…you shouldn’t get too close to strange men.”
Benny was Dean’s friends and you highly doubted he considered him strange. Still, there was something about his gaze. He wasn’t mad more like…jealous. Was he jealous? Of Benny of all people?
You quietly laugh with amusement which earns you a faint bite mark and a soft kiss on the same place.
“Men are assholes, you should just stay away from them.” He smirks, his voice taking on a joking tone.
“Does that include you?”
“No. There always has to be one exception to the rule.”

The good news is the sun still rose even though every
news broadcast said it wouldn’t. Your name didn’t feel
like a paper weight on my chest today. I continued to
breathe even when my lungs were weak from all the
running. I held a knife by its handle and didn’t think
about touching the blade. The birds did not fall from
the sky and the apocalypse got moved to a later date.
My teeth didn’t grind up the words I needed. I got the
blue paint off my hands. I said clean and we both knew
what it meant. You said the fire burned out and I really
was happy for you. I watched you walk away and let
you get so small that it was easier to find perspective.
You had a mouthful of apologies and for the first time
I didn’t want any of them. Without you, I remember
the magic of my own hands. The good news is dying
stars are always the most beautiful.
—  GOOD NEWS, angelea l.

Pt.1 of that tfc wicca au that i said id write a year back but never did

Pt. 2

He came in with five different crystals hanging from his neck, a sweater twice his size, and hair the color of roses. He was attractive in a way that could only mean trouble, and Andrew went back to mopping the floor with only one eye on the mystery man and twice his usual caution.

But then the man turned his head and Andrew caught a glimpse of his eyes that made him freeze and had his mop crashing to the ground as Andrew stared, mesmerized. Maybe it was the late hour, maybe it was the sugar binge the other day catching up with him, or maybe it was the leftover brain damage of happy pills and head injuries making him delusional, but Andrew could have sworn that the moment his eyes met the strange mans’ he saw his own death.

Keep reading

Magnetic Chapter 25: Taking Care of Business

Dean Winchester x Reader

1200 Words

Chapter Summary: After Dean is poisoned by a Siren, you try to take it out.

Story Summary:  After your Dad was killed, you were shocked to learn all about his hidden life. Deciding to follow in his footsteps, you turn to a life of hunting, surprised at how well you adapted. Then comes along Sam and Dean Winchester, turning your life upside down. You and Dean don’t get along at first, but then things soon start to change.

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

The hit was hard enough that it knocked you off your feet, losing precious seconds as she took control of you, wrapping her arm around your throat, pressing a blade to your skin. “I could poison you, but that would be too easy. I want you to suffer, then have your lover boy kill you.”

“You do know that we’re not really together, right?” You wheezed, your head pounding from the hit it had taken.

“That doesn’t matter. I can see what’s in your hearts, and the feelings he has for you. Wow, it’s a shame he has them so deeply buried.” She answered as she pulled you through the door. You glanced around, hoping there was someone to help you, but the walkway was empty as she pulled you to her car.

“Really? A car? I figured you would have had powers to transport us or something.” You sassed, regretting it the moment she slammed your head into the door frame, knocking you unconscious.

Keep reading

New Balance pt 2 - Vernon

Originally posted by carol12lopes-blog

Your brother had been at the rehabilitation center for about three weeks which meant he had only a few more days before he could come home, which also meant you had only a few more days to get yourself and your stuff out of his apartment. You had spent every minute of your free time there, cleaning up, cooking, watching movies, studying and every other thing the human body could do except for one thing. 

  “Ugh, where are you going,” Vernon groaned at the loss of contact with your skin under the covers.

“I have to start packing up,” You fought him effortlessly as he pulled up back forcefully into the bed.

He refused to open his eyes out of fear that the sun from the bay windows would blind him but he didn’t need his sight to know exactly where each part of your body was. He had spent the whole month exploring and becoming familiar with your body, learning which spots made you weak differently from the spots that resulted in one of your life threatening reflexes.

You checked the time on the digital clock beside the bed, 12:08pm, and as comfortable as Vernon’s bed was, you weren’t one to sleep in. You waited a few minutes after he drifted off into sleep again and carefully slid out of the covers shuddering when you felt the cold breeze hit your bare legs.

You looked down almost disappointed at the fact that you were still in your night clothes, you always woke up in your night clothes but went to bed hoping he’d be the reason they weren’t there the next morning. Vernon had indirectly promised you that he would “take care of you” but never got passed certain points. You made out with him almost every day, and the sessions were almost too heated. He’d reach under your shirt and hook his fingers under your bra straps or reach into your shorts and palm your entire crotch but the second he realized you were beginning to get highly responsive to his touch, he’d stop.

You walked into the bathroom and stopped to look at yourself in the mirror leaning into your image inspecting your skin and brushing your fingers along your cheeks carefully, desperately wishing it was his hands and not yours. You looked behind you in the mirror and weren’t the least bit surprised to see Vernon sitting up in the bed staring at you, he did it often.

You ran your finger down and up your neck slowly and rested it on your bottom lip, taking it into your mouth all the while still staring at Vernon in the mirror. Just come to me, please, you internally begged him hoping he would read your mind and come through. He cocked his head to the side, still staring at you, and pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth but released it shortly afterwards, smiled and fell back into the bed to continue his sleep.

There really was no solution, nothing you could do to seduce him enough to get what you wanted, and as messed up as that sounded; it was the reality of the situation. You were needy.

You had proceeded to get cleaned up, brushed your teeth, took a shower, washed your hair and got cozy in one of your brother’s jerseys in time to go help Vernon with dinner in the kitchen.

You peeped around the wall to innocently spy on him which seemed a bit creepy to you at first, but paid off greatly. He had on a muscle shirt that didn’t really serve its purpose as a shirt at all and a pair of basketball shorts. It wasn’t exactly a chef’s first choice in attire but it didn’t stop him from concentrating on cutting the vegetables.

“Enjoying the view?” He kept his focus on the knife and food and chuckled at the thought of how startled he made you.

“Uh, I just got here,” You obviously lied emerging from the darkness and walking shamelessly towards the kitchen.

He lifted his head for a split second to take a glimpse of you but let his stare linger on you for a lot longer than planned. He eyed you from head to toe stopping to stare longer at where the hem of the jersey was, a little higher than your mid thigh almost fully exposing you. He gulped loudly and attempted to get back to cutting the vegetables but failed miserably resulting in him slicing his index finger, a small one, fortunately.

You rushed over to him and took his hand in yours inspecting the cut carefully, “Idiot,” you whispered before letting out a light chuckle.

“It’s really not that bad, see, it even stopped bleeding,” he whined, which only reminded you of when your brother got cuts that you had to dress despite the huge age difference.

“You’re right, a kiss should fix it,” You smiled up at him then gently placed your lips against the wound and kissed it softly.

He pulled his finger down your lips slowly and you released his hand just to make sure he was the one controlling his movements. “Why’d you do that?” He asked almost sounding disappointed in your action.

“What?” You barely uttered the words, too lost in the frail brushes of his finger down your figure that rested on your stomach.

He hooked his arm around your waist and pulled you into his frame forcing your gaze to stay on his face. His hand travelled from your waist and down to your ass gripping it tightly causing a small gasp from you. “Don’t make me do it,”

“Do it,” You brought a hand around his torso to return the favor he so readily gave to you, “I dare you,”

Vernon tilted his head backwards in frustration and groaned in frustration, “Aaahhhh fuuuuck meeee,”

“Is that an order?”

He brought his head back down to look at you with a broad, sensual smile plastered across his face, “Why are you so eager? Do you want me that badly?”

You scoffed in annoyance, rolled your eyes and attempted to push yourself off of him but he wouldn’t have it. He spun you around and sandwiched you between his body and the graphite counter so fast that you didn’t see it; you really didn’t see it happen.

“I feel you looking at me in the nights sometimes when you think I’m fast asleep, hoping I’ll open my eyes and turn around,” He dragged his words along the side of your neck and simultaneously pulled one of his hands up your inner thigh, “You’re just hoping I’ll forget the instructions from your brother and crawl between your legs and –

He sunk his teeth into your neck and sucked on the spot mercilessly which only made your legs weak causing you to fall into him. A small moan escaped you and he squeezed your thigh in response. You felt his erection press into your back and it was tempting you to reach around and grab it and suck him off, but you didn’t want him to stop.

He brought his hands higher up your thigh and moaned softly when it came in contact with your pre cum that was running down.

“Holy fuck, you’re wet,” He whispered to himself but you were able to hear the temptation and need lining his words.

“Are you going to do something about it?” You managed to sound as seductive as you’d hoped, leaning your head backwards to rest on his shoulder.

“I’d love to baby,” He kissed your temples softly, “But I’ve got pepper on my hands,”

He gently released you and walked away towards the sink to wash his hands. Finally. He must be cleaning the pepper off his hands so he could come and finish what he started. You bit your lip more out of impatience than need for release and watched intently as he walked back over to where you were standing. He picked up the knife he had set down with one hand, took up a stalk of celery with the next, and proceeded to finish not you, but the fucking vegetables.

Everything but your toothbrush and clothes for the next day had been packed neatly in your duffle bag and placed at the door of the apartment. You decided to leave two days earlier, without telling Vernon of course, just…because.

You sat in the couch in the living room with both knees pulled you to your chest staring at the television but not really watching it. You were so cold that you didn’t want to come out of the position to reach for the blanket. Maybe the camisole and underwear wasn’t the best choice of attire.

“Seriously, you’re being petty right now,” Vernon strolled from the hall towards the apartment door and took up your duffle bag to throw it over his shoulder, “You’re not leaving,” You sprung from the couch and jolted towards him to grab your things but he beat you to the door locking it behind him.

“Open the door,” You banged hard on it out of anger and slight annoyance, “I’m not in the mood,”

He threw the bag out of sight and went to stand right in front of the door, but not opening it. He silently unlocked it just so you wouldn’t hear and barge in. “Why?” He joked but you weren’t having it, you genuinely wanted to leave.

“Just open the god damn –

The door flew open within seconds and Vernon came sprinting through, grabbing your waist and sending both your bodies crashing into the adjacent wall. Before you could properly open your mouth to utter any faint cries of pain, he reached down to grip both your legs and lift you unto him.

“And where the fuck did you think you were going?” He whispers into your neck before bringing his lips up to massage yours. The kiss became more and more passionate with each second that ticked by. You held a tight hold unto his shoulders and locked your heels around his back to ensure you didn’t fall to the ground because of the intensity of the kiss.

He sent a trail of small pecks down your chin to your neck then latched on to the skin like a leech bruising every area he could find. You brought your hands up to comb through his hair and cursed the small, weak moans that escaped you.

An unforgiving knot grew in your stomach as a result of fear that he might end this, but more out of the immense pleasure you were receiving from it. “Please…oh, please don’t stop,” You moaned into his ear and simultaneously received a hard poke from the erection fighting its way through the material of his shorts.

Vernon didn’t respond, instead, he moved you off of the wall and threw you down lightly unto the floor not once disconnecting his lips from your skin. He lifted his torso to remove his shirt and you instantly got soaked at the sight of his bare chest. He shuffled to position himself between your legs then took a long stare at you while resting his palms on your knees.

“Hmm,” He furrowed his brows and twisted his head as if he was contemplating the most life dependent decision in the world. He ran his hands down and up your thighs slowly. You squeezed your thighs together when the tips of his fingers started to travel under the material of your shorts.

He let out a small chuckle and you smirked along with him but your heart stopped for a second when you saw his face completely transform into a stern frown. He gripped the hem of your shorts and yanked it so hard that both your legs involuntarily went straight up in the air so the shorts could be removed and gracefully on either side of him.

“Holy fuck,” He groaned out when he realized you hadn’t been wearing anything under the shorts and you playfully widened your legs so he could get a better view.

“I was really trying to figure out how I was gonna fully get you in the mood for this,” He placed his finger on your pink nub and rubbed gentle circles into it, “But your already so wet for me,” He brought the finger up to his lips and moistened it with your juices.

He brought himself down to hover over you placing his lips on top of yours, “Suck it,”

You quickly pulled his bottom lip into your mouth and savored in the sour, sweet taste of yourself. He lifted himself off of you and pulled you from the floor throwing you over his shoulders.

“Where the hell are you taking me?” You laughed.

“Somewhere that’ll take that smile off of your face,” The seriousness in his voice was almost intimidating but it was turning you on just the same.

Vernon put you to stand between him and the coffee table in the living room. He pulled on the hem of your top and you raised your hands eagerly to let him take it off you. You were standing before him completely naked and insecure but completely relaxed somewhat.

“Strip me,” He whispered the command and you brought your hands forward, freeing him from his shirt and shorts slowly. You began to shorten yourself so your eyes were on the same level as his waist, but he picked up what you had in mind and stopped you in the process, “Do you want to?”

You nod your head and continued to go down, resting your knees on the carpet of the floor. Your fingers danced up his thighs and wrapped around the base of his member. He looked at you, face already contorted in pleasure even though you hadn’t done anything just yet.

You placed the tip of him on your lips and slid it all the way down never taking your eyes off of his and placed a palm on his back to support him. He moaned and grunted your name softly. He ran his fingers through your hair and alternated rubbing the center of your head, it was soothing and stimulating and everything it was supposed to be.

“Come here,” He held on tightly to your shoulders bringing you up to meet his face and pressed a hungry kiss into you. He lowered you unto the coffee table and you spread your legs wide for him using your feet to bring him closer to you. You were both dripping, anticipating contact from each other so much that it was driving you both crazy.

He pulled away and stared at you lustfully, pupils dilated, heart racing, hand wrapped around the base of his length begging you silently for permission to slide in. You closed your eyes and gasped loudly not expecting his tip alone to stretch you so much. He put it in an inch more and sent it all the way in with one rough push that had you screaming and moaning on impact.

He built up a more than satisfying rhythm within seconds and intertwined his fingers with yours to try to calm you down. He too was letting out moans that mixed with yours to create a deafening masterpiece Beethoven himself couldn’t compete with.

“I want you to come…come for me,” His filthy words spilled out of his mouth, into your ears and straight to your core. Every nerve in your body was on a frenzy. Every organ in every system was vibrating. Beads of sweat raced down your face and cries of his name flooded the room as you come undone. He slowed down his pace so you could properly descend from your high.

“Can I?” He asked through pants.

“Can you what?” You moaned out, not really caring what the favor was.

“I’m just going to pretend you just said yes,” He pulled out of you and lifted himself off of his elbows. He took a good look at you with a smirk decorating his face then held on to your waist to flip you unto your stomach.

You let out a small moan in pain but he seemed to have ignored it for he didn’t stop to ask if you were okay. You felt him press himself into again and your breath hitched in your throat when he started to move right away. You began to lose yourself under him once again completely in disbelief that you were about to come again so quickly.

You felt his body halt abruptly and he let out a long, soft, “Fuuuuck,” while massaging his thumbs into your back. You felt the warm, thick liquid coat your walls and you bit back a moan but clenched your walls tightly around him. He let himself slide out of you before he did anything again and gently flipped you back over, pulling you to stand up and lean into him for support.

“Want anything?” He smiled and wiped the sweat off your forehead, “Or are you okay now?”

You chuckled lightly and cupped his cheek while trying to regain your strength and breath, “Just a massage,”

Sweet Heart

Originally posted by mnkxv

Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: cute playful fluff
A/N: @ifindyourlipssokisssable I’m so sorry this has taken me so fucking long! You have been so incredibly patient and sweet, you are actually the best!

Sweat pricked the skin just above your furrowed eyebrows as you took a deep breath, glancing up from your position you saw Dean with a smirk on his plum lips. Cocking an eyebrow, he gave you a wink before taking a drink of his beer.

It seemed like the whole world had slowed around you, letting out a breath your hand slid forward making the pool cue hit the ball. You bit your lip in anticipation, watching as the ball ricocheted off the side of the pool table and into the hole, making you win the game.

“Ha!” You shouted jumping up, sticking your tongue out, and pointing a finger at him. Dean leaned against the table, watching as you danced around the pool table relishing in your one victory to his three.
Your shirt rode up a little bit, exposing your Anti-Possession tattoo and the branded scar that almost covers it. Chuckling softly, Dean set his beer down and wrapped his arms around you and pulling you into his chest.
“Good job, sweetheart” he smiled, placing a kiss on your forehead.
“I was good wasn’t I?” you asked, cheekily, smiling brightly. A chuckle left his lips as he threw his head back and laughed; a sound so pure and genuine that it made your heart swell.
“Come on, lets get out of here.” Grabbing your hand he pulled you out of the dingy little bar and drove you back to the bunker where Sam had been reading up on a new case.

You hated being undercover. You hated pretending to be things you weren’t, and you definitely weren’t a wealthy trophy wife who needed to attend a charity banquet in hopes of catching a very sneaky vampire. You had to wear a gown and heels and pretend that you knew how to keep up conversation about art with these pretentious snobs.

Sighing, you barely escaped conversation with Constance over how the board is under paying her surgeon husband, to meet Dean at the open bar for a drink.
“Hard night?” he asked, raising an eyebrow when you took his whiskey out of his hands and laid your head on his shoulder.
“They’re all so… so.. boring” you whined, smiling when he wrapped his arms around you.
“Come on, lets dance.” It was completely out of character for Dean to ask you to dance, but you figured that A) you were undercover and had to pretend to fit in with everyone else and B) you didn’t get this chance too often so you were going to take it.
With one hand in yours and the other on your hip, Dean swayed your body with his on the dance floor.
“You look beautiful tonight” he whispered quietly in your ear.
“Oh yeah?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow, looking up at him.
“Yeah,” he smirked, lightly tapping his forehead on yours.
“Do I look better tonight than I usually do?” you asked teasingly; giggling when he scoffed at you and rolled his eyes.
“No, I like normal you better”
“And why is that?” He gently spun your body out and then brought you back into his embrace.
“’Cause you wear these really form fitting jeans and leggings and I can just stare at your ass all day” he growled the last part in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Yeah well, yours isn’t so bad either” you giggled, watching as his cheeks turned a light pink. 

The case took a turn, and when things became too much it was already too late; there was a knife in your thigh and a vampire about to sink its teeth into your skin. Before you could really think to do anything, the head of the vampire was clean off and Dean was pulling the body off of you while Dean held you in his arms.
“How bad is it?” you asked, clutching onto the tight black shirt on his body.
“Not even that bad, sweetheart,” you could hear the uncertainty in his voice.
“Yeah, Y/N, just a scratch” Sam smiled, opening the car door so Dean could slide you in. Sliding in behind you, Dean laid your head in his lap, stroking through your hair slowly.
“Hey Dean?” you asked, closing your eyes to relish in the serene feeling of his fingers in your hair.
“Do I still look pretty?” you asked. You could feel the small rumble eliciting from his chest as he chuckled softly.
“Yes, sweetheart, you still look pretty.”

I Can’t Wait to Hear You Scream PT. 23

Summary: More of Negan’s thoughts and how well you’re holding up in Randy’s care.


“..And you, you better run because I’m going to destroy you for what you’ve taken from me.” - Samantha Young

“I don’t like it, but my hands are tied. I just want you to know this: if I ever get the chance to betray you, I will. If the opportunity arises to pay you back, I’ll take it. You’ll never be able to trust me.” - Darren Shan

“I will hurt you for this. I don’t know how yet, but give me time. A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you’ll know the debt is paid.” - George R.R. Martin


*Negan’s perspective*

He entered the room with Dwight by his side.

He pulled up a nearby chair.

“What’s the deal?” Negan asked the doctor as he sat down beside Arat’s bed.

Dr. Michael’s turned from front the sink he was at and leaned against the counter, “It was a close call for her. Luckily, the bullet went through clean - No shattering. Her biggest problem was blood loss. But she’s going to be fine.”

Negan nodded as he was lost in his own thoughts, many questions were unanswered, especially as to where you were.

“Well, how fuckin’ soon will she be able to talk? (Y/N) wasn’t found.” He asked, narrowing his eyes.

The doctor crossed his arms as he looked to her, “Whenever she wakes up she can, but that might be a while. I gave her sedatives so I could clean and stitch up the wound.”

Negan sucked his teeth, getting angry again.
He didn’t have time to wait, but knew he didn’t have a choice.
No amount of anger or threats could make her wake up and talk any faster.

He nodded and looked to Dwight, “Tell me every fuckin’ thing you know.”

Dwight was leaning against the wall near the bed, he looked nervous as usual when being questioned by Negan.

“We don’t know much else. We found her out there, and all of her weapons had been taken. Maybe it was an ambush.” Dwight said.

Negan gritted his teeth. If it was an ambush, then there was no telling who it was.
It wasn’t any secret that there were groups Negan had gained control over that were less than happy with him for taking their shit.

“If it’s any of those goddamn people from Alexandria..” Negan said angrily.

He had a scowl on his face that seem as if it would never go away, and Dwight and the Dr. Michael’s saw it.

“I’ll notify you as soon as she wakes up.” Michael’s said quickly, trying his best to reassure Negan.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ better, doc.” Negan growled as he stood up, slinging the chair to the other side of the room.

He walked out with Dwight trailing behind him.

“What do you wanna do now?” Dwight asked cautiously.

“I’m fuckin’ thinkin’ of that, D. So far, I’m thinkin’ it’s either Rick and his fuckin’ people or Randy.” Negan growled back to him.

“We’ll find her.” Dwight said plainly.

“She better be fuckin’ found in one piece. Because there’s no goddamn alternative to this. You think you’ve seen brutality before, Dwight? You really don’t wanna fuckin’ see what’ll happen if she’s dead.” Negan said in a calm tone, but his face told a different story.

Dwight looked scared as Negan glared over to him, and he nodded back slowly.

“Stay with Arat and when she wakes up, you fuckin’ call me. She better fuckin’ know something.” He said as he headed off to the cells.

And he meant every word of it.
He wanted you back here and he wanted you to be alive, although he didn’t wanna say that he was worried.
He knew that you knew how to handle yourself, he just hoped that wherever you were, you were safe.
He knew what he needed to do next, It was time to pay a fucking visit to Vernon.

*(Y/N)’s perspective*

After Mark got taken out of the room, one of the men came back with a length of chain and you were held down yet again as Randy chained you up like a rabid dog.
He ran the chain around your midsection tightly a few times before locking it to you and then chaining you to a pipe that went up the stone wall of the building.

Randy stood back as he admired his handywork, “Maybe if you start being nice, I’ll let you out of those.”

You wanted to say something smart, but you knew it was better if you didnt.
All you could do was glare back at him.

“Hmm, no answer? That’s okay. To be honest, I kinda like you better like this.” He smirked.

“It makes more sense just to kill me.” You said bluntly as you looked up to him.

“Does it now?” He asked.

“Yeah, because this can’t go on forever. I mean, you’ll be found eventually and once I’m out of here, I’m not sure if you should be more worried about Negan or me.”

He smiled big and put his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “You’re a hell of a fighter, I’ll give you that. You busted up Mark pretty good. But I’m not the one that’s gonna die.”

“Then fucking kill me already.” You growled.

“No. I’d rather keep you around, so I can make you watch me kill Negan, then I’ll kill you.”

You clenched your jaw as he threatened Negan.
You walked up to him as far as you could, until you felt the hard tug of the chain as it restricted you from approaching him any further, you were an arms length away from him.

“Did I upset you?” He said with another smug smile.

“Come closer and you can find out.” You said, leaning on the chain.

Randy smirked and started to turn around to head back when you kicked your foot out, with it just barely landing in Randy’s back.
He stumbled and caught himself against the wall.

“Goddamnit. Are you ever gonna fucking learn?” He shouted angrily and he backhanded you hard across the face, busting your lip in the process.

You fell to the ground and drug yourself back against the wall, wiping the blood from your lip.
He stood there looking over you furiously and his fists were clenched together tightly.
For a second, you thought he was going to beat you to death, but it still didn’t scare you.
He grunted and turned, heading back out of the door, leaving you in the darkened room once again.
You didn’t say anything else, although you wanted to yell at the top of your lungs and tell him how much of a pussy he was that he wouldn’t even fight you, but you had to choose your battles wisely.

You slumped against the ground, hearing the clinking of the chain with every move you made.

*Negan’s persepctive*

He walked down the long corridor leading up to where he was keeping Vernon for time being.
Negan kicked in the door to the room, not wasting anything time.
Vernon jumped as he saw him standing in the doorway.

“It’s about to be your lucky fuckin’ day.” Negan said.

Negan turned the lights to the inside of the room on and he could see the side of Vernon’s face where he had burned him with the red-hot iron.
Negan smiled to himself as he looked at the disfigured face of the man, it made him more satisfied now to look at it, since this was someone who was associated with Randy.

‘If that fucker is the one that has (Y/N) he’s gonna fuckin’ regret it.’ He thought calmly.

“That looks pretty fuckin’ nasty. Bet you wish you’d cooperated, huh?” Negan said to Vernon with a smile creeping across his face.

Vernon glared back at him and turned his head.

“Let’s see how well I can fuckin’ trust you now. I’ve got a few questions for you and you better fuckin’ answer them.” Negan growled back to him.

Vernon turned his head towards Negan and shrugged, “What?”

“(Y/N) is missing and I have a pretty good goddamn idea of who did it. Now I’ll ask you this once: where is Randy?” Negan said in an intimidating tone.

Vernon kept looking at him and finally shook his head, “He could be anywhere.”

Negan gave a soft smile and reached down to his side to pull out the large hunting knife.
He looked down at it to see that it still had Spencer’s blood on it, now dried in a shade of maroon around the blade.
Vernon saw it too as his eyes widened as he looked at it, he was finally starting to see that Negan was serious about things, especially after the iron.

“You really don’t wanna fuck with me right now. So, I suggest you wrack that fuckin’ hillbilly brain of yours and give me something good.” Negan said as he knelt down in front of him, gripping the knife handle tightly.

Vernon scooted himself back against the wall, trying to get further away from Negan and the knife.

“Look, I told you the last time I saw him was when he came to my group. He gave us those guns and he was gone again.” Vernon said, his breathing getting heavier.

Negan gritted his teeth and ran a free hand over his clean face, “Then tell me something else, where the fuck could he possibly be? I’m running out of the goddamn patience here.”

Vernon stuttered for a moment, not being able to talk out of fear.

“I- the- the only place I can think of is the first place we ever really stayed when this shit started with the dead ones.”

“Where the fuck is it then!?” Negan said, his deep voice getting louder and more frustrated as time went on.

“It’s- it’s a couple miles out. It was a small warehouse type deal. Shit man, that’s the only place I can really think of, I swear.” Vernon said nervously.

Negan was holding the knife closer and closer to him.
He wasn’t sure whether to believe Vernon or not, but once he got some answers from Arat about what was going on, then he would make a definite move.
Negan wanted you back, because you were his, but he wasn’t going to risk his men all at once sending them on a wild fucking goose chase to something that might not exist.

Negan gave another smile, “Thank you, Vernon. You’ve been most fuckin’ helpful to me.”

Negan stood back up and walked over to the door before he turned back, “I’m thinking about giving you a fuckin’ break. Why don’t you come out and get some fuckin’ food or something.”

“Why?” Vernon said, eyeing him.

Negan shrugged, “I fuckin’ told you, you’ve been helpful. So, get the fuck up.”

Vernon nodded slowly and pulled himself up from the ground and walked over to Negan.

Negan opened the door and started to walk out as Vernon was following behind him.
As they were exiting, Dwight came running up to him.

“Arat’s starting to wake up!” Dwight yelled, motion for Negan to come.

Negan nodded at him, “I’m gonna need you to fuckin’ stay here and clean up this damn mess, Dwight.”

Dwight raised and eyebrow in confusion and looked around not understanding what Negan meant, but also not questioning him.

Negan threw his arm around Vernon’s shoulder and began walking with him, “Yeah, things are gonna work out pretty fuckin’ well for you, I think.. But there is a fuckin’ problem.”

“What’s that?” Vernon asked.

Negan turned to stand in front of him and looked down somberly, “The problem, Vernon, is that I still don’t fuckin’ trust you. I mean, you see how goddamn easily I just lied to you, right?”

Vernon breathed heavily, “Lied about what?”

Negan licked his lips and looked at him seriously, “About shit working out for you.”

And suddenly, the knife was in Vernon’s abdomen.
He gasped as Negan shoved it deeper into his stomach all the way up to the handle.
Negan could hear the gasps from Vernon and feel the warmness of the blood as it spilled out all over his arm and down to the groumd, creating the mess he was just talking about.
Negan gave Vernon a wicked smile as he watched his eyes begin to go blank.

“Your usefulness has run it’s fuckin’ course. And I just flat out don’t fuckin’ like you. But this one is for (Y/N), you motherfucker.” Negan growled to him, shoving the knife in deeper as he wrapped a hand around Vernon’s neck.

He forced the knife upward, slicing Vernon like a hog and he let him fall to the ground, he coughed and he choked on his on blood.
Dwight watched on at what he was doing and every now and again turned his head away, like he couldn’t handle what he was watching.
Negan could tell that Dwight now understood what he had meant when he told him that he didn’t want to know what would come next.
Dwight was getting a small taste of how brutal Negan really could be, and with you missing, Negan was at a point where he’d kill anyone that got in his way of tracking you down, starting with Vernon.

Negan wiped the bloody blade off on his pants, along with his bloody hands.
He finally returned the knife to it’s sheath at his side.

He whistled, snapping his fingers in Dwight’s direction.

Dwight turned quickly, giving him his full attention.

Negan pointed down to Vernon’s now lifeless body, the blood still pouring out of him, “Like I said, Dwight.. Clean this fuckin ’ shit up.”

He gave one last look to Vernon’s body before he turned and walked away, heading off to the infirmary to see what kind of information he could get out of Arat.

Negan stepped into the room where Arat was and the doctor was now standing over her checking her with a stethoscope that always hung around his neck.
She was starting to come to and was very groggy, but alert as to her surroundings.
Michael’s leaned back up and saw Negan standing there, waiting rather impatiently.

“Negan wants to speak with you.” He said to Arat as he grabbed a clipboard off the counter and exited the room.

Negan walked up to the side of her bed, where she looked back up to him weakly.

“Negan, I’m sorry..” She spoke softly.

“Don’t fuckin’ worry about it. We have bigger problems, Arat. I need to know what happened and I need to fuckin’ know now.” He said trying to keep his anger down.

She swallowed hard, “We went out and we got attacked.”

“How fuckin’ far?” Negan said back quickly.

“About a mile.” She said back in a raspy tone.

Maybe Vernon hadn’t been completely fuckin’ dishonest, he had said the place Randy might be was a couple miles away from her.
But Negan didn’t feel any remorse for killing him, he had planned on killing him at some point anyway and he got all the information he needed from that fucker.

“Well, who the fuck did it, Arat? That’s the goddamn million dollar question.” Negan said, slamming a fist against a wall.

Arat blinked and looked up at him nervously, like she was scared to say.

“Arat!” Negan shouted suddenly.

She sighed and turned her head to him, “It was Randy and some other men he’s with.”

Negan bit his lip hard and nodded his head angrily.
he was going back into being so angry that he was almost calm, but he felt a rage coursing through him that he didn’t know if he’d be able to control much longer.

“Are you going after her?” Arat asked suddenly.

“More than that. I’m gonna kill every- single- one- of those fuckers.” He growled putting emphasis on killing Randy and his men.

He glared back at Arat, wanting to blame her for the whole fucking situation but didn’t bother to waste his time on it and he left out of the room quickly.
He had so much running through his mind that he didn’t know where to start.
First thing he was going to do was get Lucille then gather his men up and go out and search for the place, and fucking hope that they would find you in time.

Negan was now in a killing mood and nothing was going to stop him.

Taglist: @ambroselunatic @robert-d-j-bernthal @suileidead @beautifulfound @oceaninwinter @wadeyourebarelyalive @concertxjunkie @magical-spit @smuttwd @kawaiirepublic @miss-nori85 @gizmoallthetime @lm4o @negans-dirty-girl @voidobsession @thatgingefromtheinternet @briannaatkins03 @dickheadturner @horsesandbandsforlife @imnotonfireomg @elinyaes @carpe-dick @maisiemasonxx @momentofpeaceandbeauty @deekaahtj
@dunne31 @deeindarkwonderland @honigkuchenkid @cerebellam @shinydixon @libby822 @family-friendly-villain @rachalamode @lilablauerhimmel @cozknowz @mistysdream @imnotacrybabyimthecrybaby @b-uckland @mightiestheroes @negansbby @thegirlwhoisintoomanyfandoms @ruthlessluzifer @livybaby115

*Tag problems*

Bellissima -- Part 2/7

Part I | AO3 | FFN

For @salty-rumbelle. Thanks to @shipperqueen93, @ishtarelisheba, @tinuviel-undomiel, and everyone else who sent me insults to use here. They were invaluable.

Belle was trying really hard to meet new people. She’d made the mistake in her last town of waiting for other people to notice her, and after three years she had realized that nobody would miss her if she left. That was the day she’d started looking for a new job in a new town, and then she’d ended up here. She was going to make friends, or she was going to die trying.

So, when the waitress Ruby had told Belle that The Rabbit Hole was a popular after work destination she’d made a point to make it to happy hour the following Wednesday. She’d been a little nervous until Ruby had appeared out of nowhere and greeted Belle like an old friend.

Keep reading

when you see this, post three lines from three WIPs

tagged by @flusteredkeith

tagging: @baneismydragon @marinette-buginette @megatraven @purrincess-chat 

1. chapter 2 of never make deals with mermaids

“Is this altogether necessary?”

Adrien shrugged as he leaned against the rail of the ship and kept picking the dirt out from under his fingernails with his knife. “I don’t know. I’m not the one who cannibalized my crewmembers and insisted on catching a ride after you finished picking your teeth clean.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “I’m not human, so it’s not technically cannibalism.”

2. some chloe-centric/chlonette thing i was working on

Chloe had the luxury of availability.

When she slipped into stores and slid her father’s credit card on the glass counters, she only had to blink before racks of dresses and towering boxes of shoes would be presented to her. Her wealth was a special magic that allowed her to close her eyes, hold a hand out, and know that the first thing she touched would be hers. When she broke things in her hands, her notoriety quickly supplied something else to take its place.

3. an adrinino fic that i still haven’t finished yet oh my god

Nino looked down at his phone to check the time. “What are you doing?”

Adrien pointed to the door. “Well, your doorbell’s broken so I knocked.”

“No, I mean what are you doing here?”

Adrien looked down at his feet. “Ah, you know. I was just in the neighborhood.” He laughed lamely when the joke fell flat, his heart not into the effort of trying to lighten the mood. He let the silence sit for a bit, cleared his throat, and looked up at Nino with eyes clouded with exhaustion. “Can I come in?”

Marry Me, Negan - Chapter 4

Title: Marry Me, Negan

Synopsis: Being tired of constantly having to fight for your life, you decided to offer Negan a proposal. A marriage proposal.

Characters: Negan x You/OC

Warnings: Slight NSFW, swearing, eventual smut


Chapter 4 - Towel on the Floor

When you awoke the next morning, Negan was no longer beside you. It was nothing new since he never really stayed until the morning whenever he slept in your room, but you still felt the same— dejected and disappointed. You rubbed the sleep off from your eyes and let out a long sigh.

Keep reading

Lifeline - JUNGKOOK APOCALYPSE AU (part 3)

Paring: Jungkook x Reader (Y/N)
Genre: Horror, apocalypse, fluff, angst, smut
Word count: 2.9k

Summary: You never tasted anyone else before. Never felt the comfort of another in such a way. The end of the world, and the beginning of endless tragedy is not how you expected it to be. But when you reconnect with an old friend, a neighbor, you can’t deny your feelings even in the deadly situation.


You never thought the apocalypse would actually happen. Zombies? Really?

You trudged, tiredly, behind Jungkook. His shiny brown hair reflected the bright sun as you did. His wide shoulders stood as a barrier in front of you. “Protecting you by going first” he called it.

You drug your legs behind you. Slowly you made your way up the barren road, the double yellow lines the only thing keeping you straight. Your eyesight didn’t stray from them as you walked.


Your attention finally snapped from the lines, to the figure nearing you. It came slightly to the side of you from behind, an area Jungkook could not “protect” you from.

You simply stared at the taller boy. Clearly annoyed, you rolled your eyes at him.

He watched nervously as you waited for the walking dead to near. “(Y/N)-”

You whipped around quickly, pulling your large machete from the pocket holster as you spun. Your hair strung along your eyes as the figure came into full view. You released the sharp blade. Your arm extended, fingers gripping tightly to the handle. The tip of the blade sliced across the zombie’s neck, easily cutting through the dead flesh. The spin and cut lasted in one motion, a smooth circle. It seemed to move in slow motion. (quite ninja-like if you so much add to brag)

It struggled, gargle noises leaving its mouth as black-ish blood poured from your cut. You kicked your leg up, the boot making contact with its abdomen.

The zombie fell to the road. The hard blacktop breaking the decaying spine. It laid, helpless, struggling as you put your foot on its chest. You held it there as you leaned down.

The machete was plunged through its forehead. The black liquid splattered all around, including tainting your arms.

The zombie’s white, blind eyes rolled back into its skull. The creature lay lifeless as you slid the knife out slowly. As if to prove a point, you spun around dramatically on your heels. Your arms were out to your sides.

You faced jungkook with a devilish smirk plastered on your face. He only stood. He was throughly irritated with your games.

You walked the few feet distance between the two of you, closing it. You continued walking, passing him. The blade swiped across his thin jacket sleeve. The side of the blade caressing his biceps as you stared at him through the now messy hair covering your face. A trail of black was left behind, staining the dark, camo green fabric. You flicked the knife off, a small, and barely noticeable, wink sent his way.

You dropped the knife to your side as you kept going, not stopping once.

You walked ahead of the standing boy. Your hips swayed as you sauntered forward. The machete spun around in your hand. You dramatically twisted it one last time before shoving it into its original home. The brown leather holster now weighted by the large blade.

You pretended to brush off your hands. The smirk, now not visible to the boy, never leaving your face. “Thanks but I can take care of myself, Jungkookie~” You sang as your steps strode forward.

He shuddered at the name not used since his childhood. He cringed at the way you said it so sweet, just like when you were children. His heart swelled because you were the only person to ever gift him such a name.

And his thoughts shifted as he watched your backside walk away, hips swaying in those shorts.

Those really, really short shorts.

It wasn’t until dusk when you two spoke again.

Just as the bright orange sun was setting in the purple-blue sky, Jungkook cleared his throat.

“Aha!” He sounded over excited, as if he discovered a cure or something absurd. “This is it.” You tightened your grip on your book bag straps. You leaned up onto your toes, trying to get a view of whatever was above the trees.

“What is it?” You asked in an impatient tone. Your voice sounded skeptical of the place he was referring to. And you were.

“A safe house.” He replied in a, still, giddy tone. “It’s my aunt’s house. She would be on vacation this time of year so it’s empty. We can stay here for a bit.” You scoffed. “And what we couldn’t stay at my house?” He only laughed at you as he cut down vines and branches. You had taken the back woods way, hoping it would be less detection.

“Because you wanted to come with, remember?” His tone was mocking, only
making you angrier. “Yeah because I didn’t want to die alone like that. But I mean-” You swatted through the obstacles with the blade of your own. “Why couldn’t we stay there together?” Jungkook continued to cut his way through.

“Because you live in a suburban neighborhood. My aunt lives literally in the middle of nowhere. It’ll be safe here.” You relaxed a little, taking into account the actual sense he was making.

You finally reached the end of the thick woods. Night had just fallen. Luckily Jungkook carried multiple flashlights.

He suggested you stay close to him as you made a line for the farm house. However, you refused, yet again assuring you could take care of yourself. “Give me a flashlight then.” “No we’re not wasting batteries. One flashlight for both of us.”

You couldn’t see where exactly the destination was in the distance. But Jungkook promised he knew the way from the woods.

You followed blindly, hoping to reach the home soon. The slight wind began to chill your bare legs.

You stopped momentarily to pull the pair of sweatpants from your bag. You wanted to simply slip them over your shorts for the time being. You had no clue how much further it would be to the house.

You bent over, digging in the blue bag as Jungkook walked on. He was unaware of your stopping. The flashlight beam became smaller as he grew distant. You pulled out the pants. Your leg lifted, almost into the leg when a small hand touched your shoulder.

You screamed, falling forward. One leg was still stuck in your pants as you struggled to reach for your machete holster.

You grunted as the hands began clawing at your legs. “Ah ah…mmm.” You exhaled deeply several times over, your struggled grunts sounding loud. You tried to crawl towards Jungkook. The hands restricted your legs.

You began kicking, hoping to hit its face. “AgH… ahh… fuck!” You struggled against the creature as it moaned. It’s teeth neared your calf. Just before it could taste your muscle, the zombie fell dead.

Jungkook had run from the side. His knife cut straight through its head. The split cranium laid, black liquid pouring from it endlessly. Jungkook quickly put his knife back into its holster, not even bothering to clean it off before doing so.

“(Y/N).” He breathed. His tone was worried. Your reached upwards in hopes of leverage. He grabbed your outstretched hand. Yet again, you found your fingers to be interlaced with his. His palms were sweaty and bloody against yours.

He helped pull you to stand. Your legs were weak from struggling. The adrenaline finally worn down, you just now realizing the severity of the situation you were in.

You stood up, only to fall forward into his arms. He caught you, struggling backwards, his breath ragged and deep. “Are you okay?” He asked in a much more soothing tone than you were used to. A simple nod against his chest was all you returned as he held you. “You fucking scared me… Did you get bit?” His hand had started suddenly running through your hair. His fingers caressed the strands. Again, a simple shake of your head was all that you replied.

“Good.” He said before hoisting an arm of yours around his broad shoulders. “Next time don’t leave me like that. Especially without any light.” You only grunted, annoyed. Yet you had not the energy to protest, or to walk on your own.

Your tough, self-reliant resolve had dissipated in that moment.

You let yourself lean completely into him. He carried all your weight this way.

You weren’t sure when it was, how far you had made it, or how far you had left to go when you collapsed. You had tried to walk, following the beam of light on the grass as Jungkook’s strong and rough hands helped to stabilize you. The beam, however, increasingly had grown dark. Blackness moved inwards from the corners of your vision. You jumbled words in your mouth, simply mumbling instead of warning Jungkook. You fell suddenly. A complete loss of consciousness.

A single bright light shone in your eye. Small dust particles floated all around the area. A small window on the wall parallel to you let the light source in. It’s tainted white curtains rustled in the slight wind that entered through. The window was opened. The smell of flowers penetrated the room.

You sat up slowly, rubbing your eyes. They itched badly, like you’d slept for ages. The rubbing only stopped when you realized you were wearing your sweatpants.

You dropped your hands to under the covers to lift them. Sure enough, the thick, grey fabric was there on your legs. You immediately lifted the waistband, looking underneath.

You sighed of relief. Your shorts were still left on. Jungkook only slipped them on over your other clothes as you had previously wished to do. You yawned as your attention shifted to else where around the room.

In a small chair in a corner of the room, sat your bag. The bright, baby-blue bag sat, stuffed with objects. It was slightly mud covered, as you had noticed your sweatpants were as well.

Did Jungkook really go back and get all this for me?

The bag you could understand, yes, it had valuable items you both needed. A necessity. But your pants?

You stretched your arms outward. You groaned as the sore muscles tensed. You sighed of relief afterwards, staring around the room.

It was fairly nice. Simple. Cute. Definitely an older woman’s taste.

You moved the covers aside, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. You faced the window square on, letting the sunlight soak into your skin. It warmed you at the same time the breeze chilled you. And sigh escaped your lips at the moment of blissful peace.

You set your feet to the ground, your soles touching the cold, wooden floor. You made small steps to the to the door located on the wall in front of the bed.

You turned the cold metal knob, flinging the door open.

You exited into a hallway. The long walls stretched down to the left, your room at its very end. Pictures hung, littering it.

You walked down the hall slowly, still groggy and sleepy. A familiar, yet distant, smell arose from out of the hallway. It filled your nose, stirring old memories. You inhaled deeply, enjoying the enticing aroma as you continued forward.

As you entered into the larger space, the smell overpowered your senses. You moaned as the aroma continued to penetrate your nose, the faint memories of it bringing another peaceful bliss.

Jungkook only stared at you as you moaned to yourself. His eyes wide, slightly embarrassed at the sudden noise. You were unaware of his presence, as you had your eyes closed.

You finally opened them, coming down off your toes from another stretch.

His shocked eyes met yours. The two of you staring, slightly embarrassed by one another. You cleared your throat. “Cooking?” You asked. You simply made your way to a soft looking chair in the room.

He turned back to the old fireplace. He poked at the wood, stirring the flames. A small pot and pant sat above it on a tray. “Yes. My mom’s egg and rice recipe.”

You suddenly shifted in your seat, remembering the smell. The distant memory had been the one of his mother cooking you breakfast before. The several night spent as his house included this meal. You smelled it again, smiling at the sweet memory of the childhood innocence.

“Ah yea, this stuff tastes so good.” You smiled when he turned back to you. “I remember your mom making this for me before.” You simply shrugged. Jungkook turned back to the fire. He poked it once more.

The flames licked the bottom of the black tray.

“Keep an eye on it. Make sure nothing overflows. Poke the wood every so often. I’m going out back for a second.” He stood up, handing you the poker. You took it in your hand, fingers wrapping around the cool metal. “Oh don’t worry, I’ll poke the wood plenty.” You giggled to yourself like a little girl as he left the room. You watched him shake his head before disappearing around a corner. “Don’t be such a child.”

You did as told, poking and moving the blocks of wood occasionally. The flames would move and provide better angles than previous. Nothing overflowed, which you were thankful for. Cooking wasn’t your forte.

Jungkook was gone longer than you had anticipated. Mislead by his words of, “for a second.”

He came back in through the back door he had left from. You heard another door being opened. His grunts could be heard from where you were sitting. It sounded as if he were struggling with something.

Then, a loud splashing sound erupted from the room. Large amounts of water being poured into something.

This happened several times over. In and out, in and out, pouring, and pouring.

He finally walked back into the living room, his hands and arm glistening from the moisture on them. He flashed you a quick smile before taking the poker from your hands. “I got this.” He poked at the wood and looked into the pot. “It won’t be much longer now.” He said, sitting into a crossed-legged position. “I filled the tub in there up with water I boiled out back. It’ll be hot at first so wait a bit before getting in. Towels are in the bathroom closet door.”

You sat still, not knowing what to do. What to say.

“Uh.. t-thanks. But.. what about you?”

“I’ll just fill it up again later and take one then.”

“O-okay.” Was all you muttered upon standing. You walked towards the direction he had came from. “First door on the left. And don’t take forever if you don’t want your food to be cold.” You nodded, heading into the different hallway.

You turned at the first doorway to your left. You pushed the door open, a sudden wave of hot air rushing to your chilled body. Sure enough it was the bathroom.

The extremely large tub sat way in the back. The bathroom was larger than you thought necessary. However, you couldn’t deny the enticing thought of a hot bath at this moment.

You made your way across the cool tile, to the closet door Jungkook spoke of. It was filled with towels. All colors and sizes. Holding one in your hand, you discovered it pure softness. The delicate fabric caressed your skin.

You carried it to the tub, setting it on a convienent rack that stood next to the bath. You smiled down at the clear liquid, staring at your own mangled reflection. Steam rolled off and disappeared into the air.

You began stripping. Your finger hooked under the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. You tossed it aside now aiming for your sweatpants. The band was slid down, revealing the shorts underneath. You wiggled out of those as well. The only items remaining were your panties and bra. You began reaching to unhook your bra when you remembered you hadn’t shut the door.

You instantly spun around. Your feet carried you quickly across the room towards it. You stopped just at the wooden barricade as Jungkook crossed the hall.

You squealed, jumping backwards. Jungkook stopped and turned his head, his attention caught by your surprised yelling. He wouldn’t have noticed you standing there otherwise. His eyes widened as you stood, just as shocked.

“S-sorry.” You quickly apologized, grabbing the edge of the door and pushing it with all your force. The wood slammed into the wall louder than you would have hoped. But at least it was closed. You took a deep breath, eyes screwed shut tightly as you leaned back against it.

While you enjoyed the steaming, and somewhat scalding, heat of the blissful bath, Jungkook couldn’t get you out of his head.

He mindlessly made the food. He simply went through the motions, his mind lost elsewhere.

He thought of your black laced bra. How it hugged your breasts, pushing them upwards. It laid so low against them, showing more of your cleavage than appropriate. How your body curved in, your stomach small. Then curved out, your hips prominent. Especially in the small panties you were wearing. The tight fabric exposed your body to a sinful point. Your thighs were rounded and so cute to him. Your body looked perfect to him. His thoughts were shifted to a dirty place. He shook his head, attempting to clear them. His crush on you since you were kids wasn’t going to get in the way of things now.

At least he hoped.

rural ohio gothic
  • This is your home. It has been for as long as you can remember, nearly as far back as you can trace. The only time it wasn’t was when your family came here from a far-away land, looking to better themselves. You’re not sure how this town is better, but you suppose they’re content with the outcome. The garden is happy this year.
  • Your house is small and old, and creaks underneath your feet when you walk. The boards bend beneath the carpet and rug and Ma always says how they’ll need to fix it up. At night, when everyone’s asleep and you’re almost there, the wheezing and groaning keeps you awake - lethargic and hazy, you bid the noise little heed. In the morning, you do not ask about the circles under the family’s eyes. When the chicken count is off, your father simply nods, mumbling something about coyotes.
  • In the early season, rains flood the canal, the waters licking at the towpath. The wet gravel strains your shoes gray and sinks into the canvas like ink, relentless. The water churns, quick and anxious from the recent storms. You toss stones into the depths and wait patiently for the time of year where you can see deep enough into the canal to not fear what it hides.
  • The summers are hot and humid, like you could cut the air with a knife. Each meal is full of ripe fruits and tender meats, always a surprise since your mother never lets you in the kitchen. The fragrance only stays until she cleans that night, the lower floor then reeking of bleach. You sink your teeth into a slice of cantaloupe and wonder what she’ll serve tomorrow.
  • The apple orchards go on for acres, smelling sickly sweet and filled with clouds of gnats. Near the end of the season, the half eaten and dropped fruits have all begun to rot, leaving a heady smell in the air. It makes you sick to your stomach, but you push through, because the other kids always make fun of you if you can’t just get past it. Everyone knows the difference between the smells of decay. No one points out that rotting fruit is hardly so strong.
  • There are plenty of ghost stories about your town - they’re all complete nonsense, really. However, there is a truth in the tales of Irishmen left in the soil of the canal, dropped dead in the heat as they dug the trench and left there in negligence. There is always a memorial by the bridge over the water, but something always catches your attention before you can take a closer look. You wonder who it’s for.
  • You leave pumpkins on your porch in November, gourds and wreaths lining the house. Candles sit in the window like vigilant soldiers, wax dripping into the sills and melting the lines of salt placed there. One night, you open the window to move the stale air from your room. Your fingers break the line of salt as you do so, and the wind wails, the window screeching suddenly. You slam it back shut. Ma is in your doorway with the salt before you can even get your feet to move, her face one of a stern sort of sympathy. You don’t thank her, but you find a newly-purchased container of salt on your dresser the next day, and you lose a tenseness you did not realize you had.
  • Downtown is chilly - cold enough for a jacket but not enough to excuse staying inside. There’s attractions posted around the square for tourists who never come, and you have never been in any of them. In fact, you’re not actually sure if they’re tourist attractions, or if the facts they state are actual facts. The town is old, but so is every town around here. Anybody that visits the shabby old museums get nasty glares, and you throw a few sneers, as well, though you don’t know why.
  • They say the towpath can take you anywhere within four counties. You don’t doubt it - you’ve never walked it past Barberton, but you’ve heard of people who went on a walk and never came back. You can’t remember any of their names.
  • The shops downtown are old and varied; candy shop, hair salon, tattoo shop, a stuffed animal shop. Some you couldn’t name - there is a shop with young girls’ clothing hanging in the windows that never seems to be open, and a pagan shop on the corner with bones that seem just a bit too large to be as they claim. The woman there offers to give you a tarot reading, and you politely decline, nervous. She smiles and nods, and you remember your friend’s mother talking about how the church wants to make a petition to close down the shop. It seems like the only safe place you’ve been in years, and you end up buying a bundle of sage to burn at home, ignoring the fact that somehow everyone in town seems to know about your purchase. The woman tells you about herbs of protection and you try to listen, but it feels as though your ears are about to pop, and you recall your mother’s speeches about the wrath of God too late. You cannot hear or sleep for days.
  • In the winter, it’s almost as if the town dies. Doors close and do not open again, and you see your friends at school and the bag boys at the grocery store but you do not make eye contact with them, and there’s never anyone outside or in the aisle with you. The drive home is icy but empty and you do not see your family when you get home. Only your father is there, in the doorway to kitchen. (You’ve never seen it open, and you realize you’ve never been inside before; your curiosity suddenly flees as you realize you have no interest in knowing what’s inside.) You go to your bedroom and crawl under the covers, and you block out the sound of nothing as best you can.
  • You see a post about hometowns and cornfields and laugh - it seems like everyone lives in this state, funnily enough. You mention it to one of your friends and they laugh as well, but go tight-lipped quickly after. You both drive for hours, closely following a map, but you cannot seem to find your way to Pennsylvania, always ending up back in Massillon or Cleveland, as if the road never ends. Your fingers shake on the steering wheel as you take the highway back home.
High school sweetheats (Brock Rumlow x Reader)

Anonymous requested:

Can you do a Brock rumlow x reader fluff

  • Words:  848
  • Pairing: Brock Rumlow x Reader
  • Warnings: Too much fluff.
  • Author notes: (Y/N) is your name.

Originally posted by thelovedbird

Brock had been you boyfriend for the longest time, even before he got into the agency; you two started dating in high school, and even though you were apart for some time (between your studies and his job), you never stopped being together. One day trips were the most usual thing for you, and when you settled down in Washington D. C. it was all perfect again. You were trained by him to defend yourself in case of ‘some enemy threat came to the house’ or just in case you encountered a mugger on the streets. He cared just too much about you to let you be ‘defenseless’ on the streets. It’s not like he thought you were a damsel in distress, but he thought you might use a little more help.
He had been on a mission in Europe for quite a while now, for almost half a month and these usually meant bad news. Either it got complicated or he was in danger. You tried hard to keep the thought away from your mind but every time it was the same; you knew he was good at what he did, he was the best indeed and he had a very supporting group with him (Captain America was there, he was like a one man army) but you couldn’t help but to fear for his life. It was like dating a Marine, you never knew if he was going to come back home at the end of the day.
“Brock?” You asked out loud when you heard steps in the living room. You were in the kitchen making something nice for lunch, hoping that it was actually him walking through the front door. “Brock, is it you?”
“Yeah!” He screamed from the living room. A minute later, he was on the door frame of the kitchen, looking at you. He had his S.T.R.I.K.E uniform still on and you unconsciously bit your lip in approval “That smells nice” He smiled.
“I thought that maybe you’d spit out what’s going on if I made you something nice”
“Oh god, I love you” He laughed “Why would you say that?”
“Because” You pointed at him with the knife you carried on your right hand “I know you’re hiding something, agent Rumlow. I’ve been your girlfriend for a long time, and I know when you’re not being a 100% honest.”
“Oh sweetie, it’s just your imagination” He walked towards you and left the knife on the countertop “Don’t worry about my boring job”
“It’s not that boring if it gives you that uniform…” You shrugged innocently “Oh crap” You looked at one of the pans on the stove and it was starting to get a little bit overcooked.
When lunch was over, he offered to clean the dishes and you went to brush your teeth. You changed into more comfy clothes, and as it was a very hot day, a summer dress was fine for you. When you walked back to the living room, you saw him there, lying on the couch, completely asleep.
“Baby” You whispered trying to wake him up “Babe, wake up…” You gently stroked his enormous arm.
“Uh?” He shook his head not knowing where he was “(Y/N)?”
“Yes, you fell asleep on the couch. Why don’t you go to bed?” You offered him “Perhaps you need it”
“No” He shook his head again. His voice showed that he did need to sleep in a bed “I want to be with you… I’ll get myself a cup of coffee and we’ll make up for the time I was out, ok?” You nodded reluctantly “I love you” He said while getting up. He kissed your lips quickly and then left to the kitchen. Five minutes later, you were watching TV and he came back with his cup of coffee and some cookies for you two. “I thought you’d might like some cookies”
“Agent Rumlow, what are you trying to do?” You looked at him with a frown.
“Trying to have a nice time with my baby” He said holding you closer to his body “Sweetheart, please” You begged him.
“Baby, everything is fine. You do not need to worry” He assured you “I’ve been weird because I hate mission being so long… It makes me miss you too much and I can’t bear it”
“Are you sure it’s just that?” You pouted.
“100% sure, now, can we just cuddle up like when we did in high school?” He asked innocently.
“Brock, you know very that we didn’t cuddle in high school” You laughed at the memory of a younger version of yourselves, making out in whatever secret place you could find.
“I know, that was what I was talking about” He laughed at your innocence “No, I really want to cuddle with you, because I must say that even though I thought of cuddling with Rogers, he didn’t seemed to be quite excited about it”
“You’re so dumb baby” You pulled him closer to your body and kissed his lips “I missed you so much”
“Me too, honey”

anonymous asked:

I hqve a enjonine prompt for you:) Modern day single parents, enjolras daughter and éponines son are classmates, but they hate each other. everytime They have a fight or something, the principal javert calls their parents for a meeting, and that's how they meet?

I think this has been done by a bunch of more talented fic writers than me. But here’s my go at it. And Anon, while you tried for a specific scenario, my brain still found a way to twist and corrupt it. I’m sorry (not sorry). 

As usual, typos my own.  

The Many Grievances of Liberté Enjolras

How Corinthe High’s Disciplinary System Has Effectively Ruined My Life As I Know It

Principal Javert:

As I sit here writing this on a gray Saturday morning in March, I am forced to recall the day you drove a knife through the last vestiges of my childhood.

I am imagining your face right now. It’s most likely Monday morning. Your bushy eyebrows are furrowing into a singular, grim, black caterpillar. Your hooked nose is scrunching so far up your face, the entire student body could fit in your cavernous nostrils. Your thin, wormy lips are curling to reveal tobacco-stained teeth that are in dire need of a cleaning. 

You think I am being overdramatic.

Well, I want you to imagine me. I want you to walk a mile in my Doc Martens. All things considered, I think you at least owe me that much.

I, Liberté (Libby, for short) Enjolras, model student, youngest editor-in-chief of the school newspaper in 20 years, and leader of the Model UN club, am currently languishing in detention in the library. To my right are my treacherous former best friend Wilhelmina Pontmercy and my arch nemesis Monty Parnasse-Thenardier. Your stooge and the worst art teacher in the history of Corinthe High, Mr. Philippe Grantaire, showed up 45 minutes late this morning, meted out your punishment of a 2,000 word essay reflecting on why we are here today, and proceeded to acquaint himself with a Mr. Johnny Walker. In the time it’s taken me to write this introductory paragraph, he has passed out quite spectacularly onto his desk. Wilhelmina and Monty are either trying to see who’s better at tonsil hockey, or doing a damned good impression of slobbering dogs.

But I digress.


Why am I here today? 

I’m here because you ruined my life. 

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Arboreal Dreams - Part 10

Summary: In a curious case of benevolent dryads, as thanks for sparing their lives, Sam, Dean and Castiel are gifted with a small but precious parcel: you.

Word count: 2500ish

Pairing: Eventual polyamorous Castiel x Reader, Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings/tropes: HEAVY VIOLENCE AND TORTURE. UN-BETED, Size-difference (reader is like Thumbelina for the first few parts but she is NOT underage), creature fic, canon-level violence, UST and eventual graphic smut.

A/N: It’s been a week since I updated this story and for that I am sooooo sorry, guys! It’s been a super busy and kind of stressful week. I turned a year older and work was kinda shit. One thing that totally made my week, though, is the fact that I’ve almost got 100 followers! How is that even possible??? THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! Thank you to all of you who are regulars on this blog and everyone who likes and reblogs and sends me messages etc. It’s so much fun to interact with you so please do drop me a line and I promise I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. ^^ Peace out and I hope you enjoy this next part, my gorgeous readers! :) And don’t worry, the next update will be this weekend, so never fear!

Tagging: @angel–radio <3 <3 <3 :)

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5| Part 6|Part 7| Part 8| Part 9| Next Part

You woke in a series of waves, little bursts of coherency dulled again by a foggy darkness that closed in from the corners of your vision. There were voices and noises and your head throbbed something awful, your stomach churning unpleasantly. At one point you pressed your nose into your shoulder and Castiel’s scent invaded your senses, bringing tears to your eyes.

“Casti…,” you murmured, but it came out an indistinguishable sound.

“Oh, looky who’s awake,” came a mocking voice, and you struggled to open your eyes. The room was dimly lit, save for a white light hanging from the ceiling above your head. It was all very theatrical, you thought with inappropriately timed amusement.

“Where m’ I?” you mumbled, blinking. The four Atkinson brothers stood around you, three at the wall and Jordan kneeling in front of the chair you were tied to. He reached up and stroked the side of your face, making you cringe away.

“I don’t think she likes you very much, Jordan,” Max called, slinking over with his hands in his pocket. “But she liked this face, didn’t she?” He cupped your cheek with uncharacteristic gentleness before backhanding you with the same hand, and white-hot pain flooded the side of your face. “Y’see, sweetheart, sometimes, not often, we like to play with our food a little. There are more way of tenderizing a meat suit. But yours. Oh baby, you’re hangin’ on the vegan side, ain’t ya?”

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I love how utterly fascinated and yet utterly incompetent Gavin is at killing people in Party Hard it just fuels my favourite Fake AH Crew headcanons even more but can I just say holy shit I am all for secretly clumsy Vagabond Ryan???

(breaks into someone’s home to lie in wait, knocks over a candle and suddenly the entire apartment is going up in flames - next day he catches whispers about the Vagabond’s pyromania and intimidation tactics and he just snorts with laughter, he’ll take it)

(accidentally slashes his palm open while cleaning a blade but then gets into a knife fight later that night, Ray grumbling as he cleans Ryan up - “who the fuck just grabs someone’s knife? Sure, it worked, they’re all dead now, but look at your hand, weren’t you even a little scared about the consequences you sociopath -)

(and how many times has he tried to kill someone and failed because he fucking missed his swing three times in a row? Nobody knows. The target does, sure, but they’re too terrified of an embarrassed, wrathful killer showing up at their door if they told anyone.)

"Imagine getting kidnapped by demons and the boys have to save you." One Shot
Author: joythegreatandpowerful

Original Imagine: Imagine getting kidnapped by demons and the boys have to save you.

Warnings: Chauvinistic demons, language


Sam was smiling in the back of your mind. His head was thrown back, his face lit up with the glee that only good times could bring. Tears ran red with blood down your face, but you clutched the memory of your love close to your heart and kept in it the sanity of your former life.

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Terrible Things Part 5

Imagine leaving home to become a hunter with Sam and Dean.

Author: hogwartsismyhometoo

Word Count: 2,958

Read Part (1) (2) (3) (4)


There was something about his eyes. It felt so cliché to say it, but it was true. There was something about the way he looked at me that made me want to do something crazy.

Although really, what was crazier than running off with two guys I barely knew to fight monsters?

I supposed saving a person from a vengeful spirit was one way to form a bond with someone, but that’s not what sealed the deal. I swear, it was his eyes. It was everything: it was the way he treated me as his equal, the way he listened, his thoughtfulness, and his eyes.

“Fan-fiction green,” they’d been described by Supernatural fans. Apparently Carver Edlund’s Dean had eyes just as amazing as my Dean did.

I snorted out loud. My Dean. How easily I’d claimed him as my own.

The now familiar rumble of the Impala’s engine alerted me to their presence. I took one last look around the house, drinking in every detail. Just in case, I couldn’t help but think. But that was ridiculous. I’d come back, of course I’d come back. It’s not like I was leaving forever.

You don’t just leave the life. Dean had said it so many times in the books, and his voice came to me now. His husky, smokey voice warning me that if I left, this could be it.

But apparently I didn’t care if this was it. What life was this? No friends, no family, a crappy job with an even crappier house. My landlord was a jerk and had been threatening to evict me for months now after I’d been late with the payments so many times. It’d just make it easier for him if I left now.

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