I went through my little brother's text messages... now I wish I never did
Oh, God, Reddit, I’m so terrified. I always knew. I always knew something was off about my little brother, but now… please, I need help. I just don’t know what to do.
Anyone who knows me can tell you that I’m your prototypical overprotective big sister. My little brother, Jeremy, is five years younger than me. He’s a sweet kid, but really quiet, the kind who wears glasses and gets shoved around in the hallway. When I was in high school, I followed him through the middle school hallways, watching out for him like a hawk so his bullies couldn’t get to him. I don’t mean to brag, but I was pretty popular, so I was able to use my influence to protect him while I was in the school. After I graduated, it got more difficult. I heard about it even all the way at university. Mom would call me crying about Jeremy. The other kids called him names: freak, psycho, creep. It used to make my blood boil – if I was home, I’d never let anyone hurt Jeremy.
The thing is, though, Jeremy never seemed bothered by the bullying. When kids would shove him, or give him disgusted looks, or snigger as he walked down the hallway, or trash his locker… he just walked through school with his head down, drifting off into his own little world. I used to really worry about him, you know? He really daydreams. He just can’t seem to stay in this reality.
But he’s still my little brother. My sweet, quiet, space-case little brother.
I was thrilled when I came home last spring break and discovered that Jeremy had landed himself a girlfriend. As soon as I walked in the door, he was talking non-stop about this girl, Theresa. She’s beautiful, she’d kind, she’s smart, she likes all the things Jeremy likes… on and on. Now, you have to understand, Jeremy almost NEVER talks. I’m the closest person to him in this world and he never says more than five sentences a day to me.
Of course, I was so excited for him. But I was also a little suspicious about this girl. As soon as he said her name, I went into overprotective sister mode. I started poking and prodding, asking questions in an attempt to really understand this Theresa chick. I asked him how they met, but what I really wanted to know was what her intentions were. What’s she like? But the real question was why she was going after my quiet, harmless little brother? Do you see each other often? Does she live around here? That meant: when do I get to meet her and grill her for myself?
Jeremy seemed blissfully unaware of the true intent of my interrogation. He answered all my questions freely and dreamily. I took careful note of all his answers, mentally promising to wring her little neck if she made him cry.
Unfortunately, I went back to college before I got to meet his little sweetheart. I decided I’d step aside – grudgingly – and give their relationship the opportunity to flourish. This was, after all, his first girlfriend. I didn’t want to ruin his chances by making his family seem psycho.
Fast forward a few months. I came back for summer break and noticed that Jeremy had gone back to his usual self: quiet, unfocused, self-contained. As soon as we were alone, I inquired after his girlfriend.
“We broke up.” He didn’t sound heartbroken or even a little upset. He said it matter-of-factly, and I was left wondering what on earth had happened. I asked my mom, but she was just as clueless as I was: apparently one day he’d just stopped mentioning her and that was that.
Now, something about this didn’t sit quite right. When my first boyfriend and I broke up, I was absolutely crushed. Jeremy was taking this a little too well… what had happened? Was he too embarrassed to tell his big sister?
Ultimately, I pulled a really dick move. Jeremy went out for a few hours – he has a little fort in the woods behind our backyard where he likes to study and read. He left his phone to charge on his desk. I snuck guiltily into his room and decided a quick little peak wouldn’t hurt anyone.
I found his texts with Theresa and started from the beginning. Turns out they’d met on some Internet forum and started chatting there. She lived only twenty minutes away, but they had been texting and apparently officially “dating” for weeks before the topic of meeting each other was seriously considered.
To be honest, the texts were pretty normal at first. They were sweet and syrupy and just a little cringey. They texted some pictures, but nothing dirty (thank God). It culminated with them planning to meet on May 3rd after school. His last text said: “I can’t wait to see you tonight, I love you <3.”
And after that, there was nothing.
Seriously, it’s so weird. No more texts, and when I checked his call history, I found that there were no more calls, either. Something was up with that. Had something gone wrong that night? What was up?
Frustrated, I decided to check the Internet. I’d figured out her full name from the text messages so I figured it would be easy to do a quick Google search to find her Facebook, Twitter, and whatever else.
My heart practically stopped when the top hit was a missing person’s report.
I read through the report frantically, my heart lodged firmly in my throat. Theresa Evans, age fifteen, never returned home from school on May 3rd, reported missing May 4th, anyone with information regarding her disappearance is to contact the police immediately…
Something was wrong. Something was dreadfully wrong. My mind was racing through the possibilities. Had they been assaulted? Was Jeremy too afraid to come forward about whatever had happened? Was he being threatened?
The back door slammed as Jeremy came back home. I threw his phone back on his desk (I’d been clutching it mindlessly) and raced downstairs, trying to act casual. Jeremy, being his usual spacey self, didn’t notice my evasiveness or the sheen of sweat on my forehead.
That night after Jeremy had gone to bed, a plan started to form in my mind. I wanted answers, but at this point I didn’t want to ask Jeremy directly. So how could I find them? Jeremy’s backwoods sanctuary came to mind. He spent so much of his time out there reading and hanging out. I knew he’d built a nice little fort for himself. Maybe there was something out there that could shed some light on this insanity.
Once mom had also gone to bed, I grabbed a flashlight and set off. It took me a few wrong turns to remember how to get out there. Damn, that kid liked his isolation. Eventually I saw the little shack and felt relief wash through me. I don’t know why, but seeing it made me feel reassured. It was just a little shanty, and Jeremy was just my sweet little brother. All my worries were for nothing, weren’t they?
I wish I was right.
As I got closer to the shack, the smell hit me. That smell… I’d never smelled it before, but instantly I knew what it was. Oh, God, no. I ran into the shack, holding my shirt in front of my nose.
Theresa’s body was spilled out on the floor. She was decaying badly at this point. I was gagging as I looked at her corpse, trying to hold down my lunch. Her clothes had been ripped off and she’d been placed on a blanket acting as a makeshift bed. I got a little closer and my world started turning.
There was white… stuff… between her legs and her chest. It was… oh, God, it was Jeremy’s…
I ran outside as far as I could and threw up. And I puked again. And again. Oh, sweet Jesus, my little brother…
I walked back in a daze and crawled into bed, shivering. Oh, man, I had to call the cops. I had to get them involved. But… but my brother… but Jeremy…
I ended up staying at a friend’s house for a few days. I told my mom we were going out of town on a road trip, but really I just needed some time to figure out what I was going to do. Of course, I had to tell the cops. But… but could I do that? Oh, please, not my sweet little brother…
I returned home yesterday, utterly exhausted and having reached no conclusions. As soon as I walked in the door, I heard Jeremy’s animated, excited voice. My chest tightened up as I walked into the kitchen and saw him talking mom’s ear off.
I looked at the two of them warily. “Hey, Jeremy. What’s up?”
He grinned at me and said, “Hey, guess what, Hannah? I got a new girlfriend!”
Oh, God, please help me, Reddit. I think I’m going to be sick…
Zootopia Fanfiction Take a Stand: Star of Ceartais Ch.16- I won’t give up, I won’t give in.
(AN/ Hey folks it’s Garouge/Crewefox here with another chapter of Star of Ceartais. I want to thank you all for helping this fic reach over 900 reviews, 300 followers and over 50k views! You are all awesome. A massive thank to the SOC team who helped craft this chapter, especially to chorpion who beta’d this chapter, so without further ado let’s get cracking with this chapter…)
The eccentric red panda owner/editor of BarkFeed known as Mr Boehm was sat behind at his desk in his spacious office with Sasha Jones AKA Miss Ojos. She had come in to hand over photos of the ‘Monster of the Meadowlands’ that had saved her from three drowned attackers. Boehm had been looking at the photos for about thirty seconds in silence until he dismissed them as"Crap, crap, mega crap.“
"What? Those photos are good.” Sasha protested.
“Kid these are blurry as hell and look like they’ve been ripped from a cheesy horror film, I’ll give you $50 each for them cuz’ of the crappy quality.” Boehm bickered.
Prompt: Can you do a college age ReaderxDean where the reader sleeps with Dean and finds out after a couple weeks that she’s pregnant and so Dean comes back and she tells him she’s dropping out of school and they argue about her coming with him. Fluffy smut. -Anonymous
A/N: I changed it from 3 weeks to a month, I hope that’s okay. It’s just you have to be so far along before a home test will pick up the pregnancy hormone.
Fic: I was at a bar not far from campus with my best friend, Hannah. She insisted that I take a break from constant studying and have some fun. So here I am. I ordered a jack on the rocks and casually sipped at it as I people watched. I fixated on a mysterious looking guy toward the end of the bar. My gaze was met by the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen. He gave me a small nod, and I replied with a sweet smile. He got up from his bar stool and walked over. “Hey, sweetheart.” He said as he took the seat next to me. “Sweetheart huh? How about we stick with (y/n)?” I replied with a smirk. “(y/n)? Beautiful name for a beautiful woman. I’m Dean.” He informed me.
About half an hour later, I had had one too many. Dean was incredibly interesting. He had told me about him and his younger brother. They were on a road trip. They had also seen the second biggest ball of yarn, twice. Hannah had came to me saying she was going home not long after Dean had sat down. She also stated I should get a piece of the hunk in front of me. In which I replied with a swift punch in her arm. Dean chuckled. “She was right, you know? I think you should get a piece of me too.” Before I could reply he crashed his lips into mine. It took only a second for me to reciprocate the action. His lips were soft and his kiss was gentle. When we finally pulled away I had offered for him to return to my apartment with me. Dean accepted. We walked out of the bar to the parking lot, where I remembered Hannah was my ride. “Good thing I have Baby.” Dean announced as he gestured to a black impala. “Well she’s gorgeous. ‘67 impala, right?” I inquired. A giant smiled came across Dean’s face. “A girl who knows her cars. Me likey.” He smirked as he opened the passenger side door for me.
The ride home was short and quiet. I was nervous. I normally don’t bring home strangers, but Dean was so different. I felt safe when I was with him. Our connection was strong, too. I had never felt so in sync with someone before. He put the impala in park and turned to look at me. “You know, we don’t have to do this. I’m not exactly the type you wanna get caught up with. I can walk you inside and we can call it a night.” The look in his eyes as he spoke was so sincere. He meant it. “I want this Dean. I want you. I know this is probably a one time thing, and I’m alright with that. I just–” He cut me off again as his lips made contact with mine. This time it was more intense, needy. His hands trailed up my sides to my breasts. I pulled away saying, “You know, there’s a perfectly good bed waiting in my room.” The look in his eyes went from sweet and sincere to full blown lustful. “After you.” He moaned as we exited the car.
Stumbling through my front door, I could barely get it shut before Dean had me pinned against it. He placed open mouthed kisses all down my neck as he ripped open the T-shirt I was wearing. “Hey, this is my favorite shirt” I whined. He looked at me with a cocked eyebrow. “Well now it can be your favorite rag.” He retorted as he nipped away at my breast through my bra. I made the effort to remove it before he decided to rip it off also. He looked at me with amazement. “Goddamn, you are beautiful.” he mumbled against my skin, his hot breath leaving goosebumps.
He placed his hands under my ass as he lifted me. My legs wrapped around him on instinct. I could feel him hard against my core. “Bedroom?” Dean asked. “First door on the left.” I purred as I nibbled at his neck. He basically ran toward the room. Once inside he tossed me on the bed. I courageously pulled his shirt off as I sat up on my knees. "Oh my God.“ I breathed as I soaked in the sight of his chiseled body. In that instant Dean was on top of me. His massive hands kneading one breast as his mouth was on the other. I could feel him grinding into me. "Dean, want you” I begged. “Please.” With that he worked his way down my body, placing soft kisses behind him. He quickly had my jeans and panties off. His hands gently pushed my thighs apart. He licked and nipped his way to my soaking wet core. I was dying for some form of friction. “Dean, please.” I whined. He chuckled. “Patience princess."
I could feel his hot breath over my pussy. I moaned as he made a small kitten lick between my lips. Then he did it again and again. "Dean,” I whimpered. He added a finger inside my core. I could feel the knot in my stomach growing tighter and tighter. He added another finger, thrusting them in and out, as he licked and sucked at my clit. A third finger was added and that’s all I needed I came spilling out his name and profanities. “God, you taste so damn good baby. Could stay down here all night. But you don’t want that do you?” He murmured as he lapped up the juices from my orgasm.
As I came down from my high, I answered. “Please Dean, fuck me.” I said breathlessly. He stood up from the bed to remove his jeans. Completely naked, he placed himself back over me. “Are you sure?” I nodded quickly. At that I felt the tip at my entrance. He pushed in agonizingly slow. I underestimated his size. I groaned slightly at the pain. “Are you okay?” Dean asked quickly snapping his head up to look at me. “I’m good, you’re just…. big.” He had stopped moving. “This isn’t your first–” I instantly cut him off. “NO! No, just keep going. Please.” Once the pain subsided, I urged him to move. “Fuck, you’re so…. fuck… tight…” Dean grunted. He started off slow, but quickly building up a fast pace. I felt the familiar knot growing again. “Oh, god Don’t… Don’t stop… Fuck… Dean..” I moaned. He reached between us and began to rub my clit. I found myself going over the edge again. “fuck Dean!” He began to thrust sporadically and soon he was coming as he groaned “(y/n) shit… fuck… fuck…” He rolled off me and gently pressed his lips to mine. His green eyes were the last thing I saw before falling into a blissful sleep.
I awoke the next morning to an empty bed and a note on the night stand.
Maybe we will cross paths again. I got your number. I’ll call. -Dean
A month had passed since that night, and I had heard from Dean once. Deep inside I knew I wasn’t going to see him again.
I found myself with my head in the toilet one morning. “Dammit.” I coughed. There was a knock at the door. “It’s open!” I yelled knowing it was Hannah. I had previously called her. “(y/n) I have the tests.” She called back. I almost got out 'bathroom’ before I found myself throwing up again. She was immediately at my side. “Oh, sweetie. I don’t think you need these.” She cooed as she held my hair. “How could I let this happen Han?” I cried as I pressed the handle down. After about ten minutes of gross sobbing into my best friend’s shoulder, I mustered up the courage to take the tests.
“shit. Hannah, they’re all positive. What am I going to do?” I choked. “You have to call him. He is just as much a part of this as you are.” Why did she have to be right? What about school? How can I raise a kid? It’s not like my family can help me. I had so many questions running through my head. I felt sick again. “Call him. I gotta run to class. Let me know if you need me okay?” With that she was out the door. I picked up my phone and scrolled to Dean’s name. I took a deep breath and pressed call.
I waited, for what felt like forever, for dean to answer. I was about to hang up when he finally answered. “Hello?” Shit. What do I say? I didn’t think this through. “Dean? It’s uh, it’s (y/n) from–” He cut me off. “I remember. How are you? Are you okay?” He quickly asked. “Um, that’s actually what I called about. Shit I don’t know how to sugar coat this. Dean I’m pregnant. And before you ask, yes it’s yours. I haven’t been with anyone since you.” I blurted out. Silence. Dead Silence. “Please say something.” I begged. Nothing. “You still in the same apartment?” He finally said. “yes.” I practically screamed. “I’ll be there by nightfall.” click.
I paced back and forth in my living room, nervously waiting for Dean’s arrival. I occasionally had to make trips to the bathroom. God, I thought it was suppose to be morning sickness. I had just made it back to the couch from my recent run-in with the toilet when I heard the familiar rumble of the impala. I tried to prepare myself for what was to come.
I am the worse. The actual absolute worse. I tell you all I am going to come out with an update, and then actually get around to posting it like a month later. I cannot tell you how awful I feel about that.
So! My New Year’s “resolution” (even though I hate that term) is to not do that anymore! With school starting in just a couple of weeks, I know for a fact that I am going to be swamped. I also know that the only way I ever get any homework done is if I procrastinate and write a chapter of fic first. So the new posting schedule (after this update) will be every other week, with chapters posting from Sunday night at the earliest to Monday night at the latest! Always within that time frame. I promise. Really.
Feel free to call me an asshole and keep bothering me until I fix that if I get off track. Seriously.
Alright, here we go kids.
AU, SFW, 1867 words. The only thing I own is my daily existential crisis.
She’s in a room; a basement, a very dusty and moldy one, with pipes all over the ceilings and coming out of the floor.