#‘figure out how the fuck to soak my foot in warm water 3-4 times a day in a dorm room’

[nope-body]

.

[nicolewoo]

Daddy Please Part 2

-Pairing: Joe Anaoi X Reader (Roman Reigns X Reader)

Warning: SMUT SMUT SMUT Spanking SMUT SMUT SMUT

Note from the author: I’ve spent a good portion of the day trying to write this despite having a dreadful day. I’m exhausted, so I’m not even proof reading it. I’ll get to that tomorrow, but here it is.

Enjoy Part 1

Joe and I slept at the club. It was a neutral point, and we were exhausted after the night we had. He offered to take me home after our shower, but I was too tired, and I didn’t have to be in the office …. well… anytime soon. After the 6-month long trial in Florida, I’d earned a break. I emailed my assistant that I would be late at the very least and may take the whole day off. I also instructed her to have a new pair of cuff links sent to Henry’s house with a thank you note. “He’ll know what for.” I added so she wouldn’t ask questions.

Joe curled his body around mine, spooning me tight as we slept, and I reveled in it. Being without a dom for 2 years was difficult, but the hardest part was sleeping alone. Henry had spoiled me by letting me sleep with him most nights, and I hoped Joe would want that also.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A hand brushed over my side, pulling the sheet and blanket off me. I moan as the cold air hit my skin, and Joe shushed me. “It’s ok, baby girl. I’m just checking your body.” His fingers explored my skin, stopping when he reached my hip. “Is this ok?” he asked as he pushed into the bruised skin of my hip. It didn’t hurt bad, but it was tender.

“It’s ok.” I said. I was much more concerned about my vagina. He had fucked me wild last night, and I could already feel the tenderness of the skin without even touching it.

He sat on the bed, covering me up to keep me warm and bent over to kiss me. “I have to go to work.” The sun wasn’t even up yet.

“What time is it?” I asked and heard him chuckle.

He brushed my cheek with the back of his fingers. “It’s 4 am. Go back to sleep, baby girl.”

I tried to figure out how much sleep we’d had but couldn’t quite shake the sleep fog out of my head. I knew it was just a couple of hours… Maybe 3? Either way, it wasn’t enough. As sleep began to pull me down, I stopped worrying about it and just relaxed. “I’ll call you later.” He kissed my forehead before leaving.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I woke feeling completely new. My aching need had been sated, and yet, my body craved more of Joe. I smiled as I remembered last night.

When I went to the bathroom, I found Joe had left me a note taped to the mirror.

Good morning, beautiful. Last night was perfect and I can’t wait to see you again. When you wake up, call the front desk, and they’ll bring you breakfast. I’ve already ordered, and I expect you to eat at least ½ of what I give you. I’ll call you around lunch time. I’m hoping we can start contract negotiations tonight. Relax and enjoy your day and Thank you.

The note made me smile as much as the memories of last night. Next to the note was a bottle of Ibuprofen and some numbing cream. I took advantage of both, spreading the numbing cream over my hips and letting the ibuprofen help with everything else. Now that I was up, I could feel the aching in my muscles. I hadn’t used some of those muscles in 2 years, and they cried out for attention.

I drew a hot bath and called the front desk as I waited. “This is Y/N. I’m supposed to call you for breakfast?”

The desk attendant didn’t miss a beat. “Yes, ma’am. Would you prefer coffee or tea?”

“Coffee please with lots of sugar and cream.” I requested.

“How would you like your eggs?” He asked.

“Scrambled, please.”

He acknowledged me and said breakfast would arrive in the next 15 minutes. That wasn’t enough time for a long soak in the tub, but maybe the hot water could work out a few muscles before breakfast. I climbed in the tub, cursing at the heat, but knowing the hotter the better.  

After my bath and breakfast, I dressed and attempted to fix my makeup, to no avail. My phone dinged as I was finishing my hair.

Morning babe. How did last night go? It was Henry texting me.

It was wonderful. Thank you for connecting us. Really! Thank you!

My pleasure. I was getting worried about you working so much and not taking care of your other…. Needs.

I laughed at the idea that he wouldn’t just come out and say my need to be a sub. After all, he was once my dom, and we were still great friends. My “needs” are met, although I suspect more will arise soon.

Lol. Enjoy your day babe. Ann says hi.

Tell her I said thanks and I’ll probably see her tonight.

You’re coming back to the club? Two nights in a row? I figured you’d be with Joe tonight.

I chuckled. I’m still at the club. We stayed here last night. We still have to negotiate a contract, and I think the club would be a nice neutral place.

Agreed. See you tonight.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

My cell phone rang, and I let the car pick it up. “Y/N” I announced.

It was my assistant, Alyssa. “Ma’am. I have a Joe Annooowhy (she fumbled trying to figure out how to say it) …. Something like that. Would you like me to forward the call to you?”

My stomach rolled in anticipation, but I was able to keep my professional demeanor. “Yes please, Alyssa.”

“Good afternoon.” His deep voice through the speakers of my car vibrated through me surrounding me in warm waves and memories of last night.

I sighed happily, “Joe.”

He chuckled. “Miss me baby girl?” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Sounds like you’re relieved to hear my voice.”

I thought for a second. “I am.”

“Thought I wouldn’t call?” He asked.

“No. No that’s not it. I just…. It’s corny.” I laughed to myself.

His voice lowered another octave. “Tell me, baby girl.” He sounded amused, but I wasn’t going to defy his order.

Should I actually say this? Being a sub felt odd after all this time of being alone. I tried to remember how I did it with Henry. I was easily able to separate work me vs. sub me. I’m out of practice now. What would Henry want? He’d want me to say it. “You sound like,” I paused. “home.” As soon as I said it, I was afraid I’d said too much.

“I like the way that sounds.” I could hear his smile in his voice. “So, tonight, Henry and Ann have invited us to dinner. I’ll pick you up from your office at 6.” He wasn’t asking.

“I wasn’t going to go to the office today.” I admitted.

He paused for the briefest second. I’d thrown off his plan. “Alright. I’ll pick you up at your house?”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I was ready when my doorbell rang, and I rushed to get to the door quickly. Joe looked amazing, and I couldn’t stop my smile when I opened the door.

We crashed into each other. All hands, lips and tongues, fingers grabbing with need. Our moans and grunts filling the air as we desperately tried to find relief. Joe pushed us through the front door and closed it behind him with his foot. “That made it worse.”

I pressed as close to him as I could, and it still wasn’t enough. “Made what worse?”

He pulled my hair back gently and kissed his way down my throat. “All day long, all I wanted was you. Now that I’m here, I want you more. Why the hell did I accept Henry’s dinner invitation?” He asked between kisses.

I knew what he meant. I wanted nothing more than to be alone with Joe. Alone, naked…. There was a good chance negotiations would take hours, and dinner would make the day even longer. I melted into Joe’s kiss; my head clouded with lust. I needed to focus. “Because Henry doesn’t take no for an answer.” I said.

Joe pulled away to look into my eyes and paused before chuckling. “You’re right.” He took a deep breath and placed a chaste kiss on my lips. “We should get going.” He peeked at the clock on my wall.

I looked slyly up at him, “We could have a quickie?” I brushed my fingers over his crotch.

He grabbed my hand and pulled it up to his lips. “Baby girl, there are only 2 things I want to do quick tonight. Dinner and the contract signing.” I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yes daddy.” He hugged me tight.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“You know, I deserve credit for hooking you two up.” Henry said as he stretched his arms out and wrapped one around Ann.

Dinner had been amazing. The food, the conversation, everything. I got to see how Henry and Joe interact. They were better friends than I had known, and they were happily laughing at stories. Between Henry and his boisterous personality and Joe with his intimidating size and loud laugh, Ann and I barely got a chance to talk. I sat pondering these 2 men. Both of them had giant personalities, and incredibly good looks, and whenever they entered a room, they commanded attention. Now, with both in the restaurant, it almost became a power struggle, but somehow it worked.

“Henry,” Joe said straightening up. “I’m sure you’ll understand. I quite anxious to start contract negotiations. We’re going to head out.” Joe stood and gave me his hand.

When Henry and Ann both chuckled, Joe shot them an un-approving look. “Joe, it won’t take near as long as you think. She probably has an envelope with 3 different contracts in her purse.”

Joe looked from them to me as Henry and Ann stood. “Don’t be ridiculous, Henry.” I said as he hugged me. “It’s all done on a tablet now.” I patted the side of my purse for effect, and we laughed more.

“We won’t hold you up any further.” Ann said as she hugged me. “He’s a great guy,” she whispered in my ear. I smiled fondly at her as I mouthed thanks to her.

“Ready, baby girl?” Joe said placing his hand on the small of my back. I looked up at him with every intention of saying yes, but when his eyes locked on mine, I couldn’t speak so I nodded yes.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Contract negotiations went perfectly. Henry had really chosen well for me.  Joe and I wanted similar things, and we only had to negotiate 3 points. All in all, it took an hour, which thrilled both of us. Now, the night loomed before us full of possibilities.

“Stand there.” Joe said quietly but forcefully as he pointed to the spot he’d had me stand in last night. He locked the door and hung up his suit coat before coming to me and kissing me deeply. His hands roamed down my sides and slipped under my dress, slowly pulling it up over my head. Stepping back, he surveyed the matching black lace underwear and bra. “Black lace again?” He sounded pleased. I nodded yes as he ran his hands over the fabric of my bra. “You paid attention last night. Thank you. Black lace is my favorite.” He kissed me gently and ran his hands over my ass before walking across the room. He grabbed a bottle out of a desk drawer and poured an amber liquid into a high ball glass before sitting on the desk chair.

As I stood there, he casually leaned back in the chair and sat ogling my almost naked form as he sipped his drink. The longer he sat, the more awkward it felt to be standing there. I assume he was doing it on purpose to push my buttons, and it was working. After 2 years on my own, I wasn’t used to such obvious leering. The complete silence in the room was just making everything worse, and I was grateful when he spoke. “What are you thinking?” He asked.

I don’t know what I expected him to ask, but this wasn’t it. “I’m wondering why you’re not touching me.” I admitted quietly as I looked at the floor.

“You don’t need to look down tonight. Just be yourself. Talk to me.” He crossed one leg over the other, resting his ankle on his knee. Each move was slow and calculated and screamed dominance. “Maybe I’m thinking about what I’m going to do with you tonight. What do you want me to do?”

Slowly, I raised my eyes from the floor to him. “I….um…. whatever Daddy wants.” I said, which he smiled at.

“Daddy wants to know what you want right now. Tell me the truth.” He stood, took a sip of his drink, laid the glass down and came to stand in front of me.

“I want to make you happy.” I said, and he stepped forward another step, standing close enough for me to feel his body heat and smell his cologne. “I want….” His eyes locked on mine and I couldn’t answer. He just stared down at me, towering over me, somehow dominating me without even saying a word.

He had smiled at my inner brat last night, so I tried to stand my ground. I challenged him with my eyes and my stance. I tried. I stood still for what seemed forever, him so close to me I could almost feel his heartbeat. I tried, but eventually the dominant in him overpowered my inner sub, and I looked down.

I could hear the smile in his voice, “Good girl.” He kissed my forehead and wrapped his arms around me, his large hands covering my ass. It had been a power play. This whole thing had been a power play. I should have known. Mentally I chided myself for not understanding what was happening. Without warning, he undid my bra and pulled the lace down my shoulders and tossed the bra onto the desk.

I took a deep breath as the cold air hit my nipples. “Cold, baby girl?” he teased. I wanted to make a smart remark but instead I just nodded yes. “I’ll warm you up soon. Just wait.”

Wait? Wait? I’d already been waiting. He pulled away from me, untied his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. I peeked up as the edge of his Samoan tattoo came into view, and resolved not to smile, but good grief, he was beautiful. Once his shirt was unbuttoned, he quickly pulled the tie out of his collar, circled me and grabbed my wrists, pulling them back and using the tie to bind them together tightly. He tested the tautness of the knot, but still asked, “Is that ok?” I quickly nodded yes. “Good. So, you’re wondering what I’m going to do to you? You don’t get to know that. I decide that and you accept it. Is that understood?” He ran his hands down my sides until he reached my underwear. Hooking his fingers inside the waistband, he slowly dragged the material down. “Step out.” I did, and he tossed the underwear onto the desk with the bra.  

He grabbed my hips and turned me until I was facing him, but he didn’t rise. He stayed crouched on the floor. He looked up at me with a devilish grin and quickly pushed his hand between my legs. “Spread your feet.” He commanded, and I obliged. He crouched for a moment, drawing out the suspense before finally running two fingers over my slit. “You’re very wet.” He teased me.

I gasped as his fingers ran over my slit again, “Yes, daddy.”

“Do you want daddy to lick you?” He asked.

I looked right in his eyes as I begged, “Please, Daddy, Please.”

I wasn’t even done saying it before he pushed his face into my crotch and he flicked my throbbing clit with his tongue. My head fell back as I moaned in delight, but just as suddenly as he started, he pulled away and stood in front of me. “On the bed, on your knees.” I walked over to the bed, but just as I was getting ready to climb up it, he wrapped his hands around my waist and helped me up.

“Thank you.” I whispered.

I listened as he removed his pants and underwear, desperately wanting to see his dick. When he climbed on the bed behind me, he cupped my breasts with his hands and pushed his erection against me. He pinched my nipples between his fingers, and I felt his hot breath on my neck as he began to twist and pull, gently at first then harder and harder until I yelped. “Very good,” he whispered in my ear. “Henry told me you couldn’t handle much pain, but you did very well with that.” I smiled with pride. “You’ve got a praise kink!” he said excitedly as if he’d just opened a present.

“Yes daddy.” I whispered.

I felt him relax just a bit, “That’s very good, because I like to praise.” He slid one arm down around my waist and pulled the other up along my back until he cupped my neck. He pushed me over until my face was against the bedding. His hand now caressed down my back slowly sliding between my legs and pushing 2 fingers inside me. I cried out. “Does it feel good?” He knew it did, but he wanted me to say it.

“Yes daddy.” I sighed.

“Then fuck my fingers, baby girl. Fuck them like you fucked my dick last night.” He pressed his fingers deeper into me, and I groaned. “Come on. Show me how bad you want my dick.” I pushed back against his hand, and I felt his fingers flutter inside me. I rocked my body away from him and back against him, picking up speed with each rock.  “That’s it baby. Try to get yourself off.”

I had every intention of doing so, but just as my orgasm started to build, he pulled his fingers out of me and brought them to my mouth. “Clean them.” I opened and he slid the two fingers in my mouth. “Don’t you taste delicious?” I nodded my head yes as I wrapped my mouth around his fingers and sucked.

He moaned. “I love that mouth.” I beamed with pride as he laid down on the bed and I could see how hard he was. “Wrap that talented mouth around my cock,” He instructed as he scooted close to my face. Leaning back onto my knees, I positioned myself over him and stuck my tongue out as far as I could. He ran his fingers into my hair, grabbing it as he roughly pushed me down on his cock. I took his full length into my waiting mouth, tasting the pre-cum as I lifted my head. As I flicked my tongue over the top of his head, he groaned so softly I could barely hear it. I slid my lips down his cock again, just deep enough to gag. “Yes, baby girl. Just like that.” He used his grasp on my hair to pull me up and down again and again, and again. “That feels so good.” He loosened his grip and let me play. I explored his cock tip to base, licking, kissing, sucking before taking a ball into my mouth and humming a sound of contentment. He instinctually bucked his hips and crashed into my face clumsily.

He shot up and started doting over me. “Are you ok?” He cupped my face in his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Let me see.”

I couldn’t help it, I just started laughing and completely ruined the mood of the scene. I half expected to get I trouble, but he laughed with me. He reached behind me and undid the tie. “Let’s take a look.” He searched my face. “You ok?” He chuckled.

“I’m fine.” We both chuckled as he leaned his forehead against mine and wrapped his arms around me.

“You might be a little too good at that.” We both laughed. “Lay down baby girl.” He smiled as he climbed between my knees. He pressed sweet kisses up my thighs. When he flicked his tongue over my clit I gasped loud. I felt his lips spread in a smile before he wrapped his lips over my clit and sucked. I forgot I’d even been laughing. His talented mouth reduced me to a moaning mess quickly.

“Daddy!” I cried out.

“Baby?” He asked.

“Can I cum? Please.”

He smiled big again but didn’t look up at me. “Yes.” He slid two fingers into me again and sucked my clit until I was consumed in a wave of warm tingles. He stopped sucking, but slowly moved his fingers in and out of me to extend my orgasm, finally stilling them inside me as the clenching slowed. He gently pulled them out and crawled up to lay beside me with a warm smile on his face. He trailed his fingers over my arm and watched as I rode out the last shock.

He kissed me softly, sweetly as he climbed between my legs. He pressed his cock up against my core and kissed me again while he slid inside me gradually. He stilled deep inside me. “Open your eyes baby girl.” I did and found him looking sweetly at me. When I smiled at him, he began sliding in and out leisurely at first then building faster and harder with each stroke. I tried to focus on keeping my eyes open, but the better he made me feel the more I forgot and closed my eyes.

He stilled when a second orgasm washed over me. “Baby, you’re so tight.” His words caused me to clench again and he groaned. I wrapped my hands around his neck and pulled him in to kiss me. He started fucking me before the orgasm ended which caused another orgasm to start. My back arched and my head snapped back. He wrapped an arm around my waist and slowed his thrusts. I collapsed onto his arm and he laid me down gingerly. Burying his head in my neck, he peppered kisses along the skin. He thrust in and out of me as he nipped and sucked along my collarbone. When the orgasm was over, he kissed me sweetly.

Opening my eyes, I saw his smiled had turned to a smirk. He allowed me a second to process the change before he grabbed my hips and flipped me over and pulled me onto my hands and knees. Violently he pounded into me as hard and as fast as he could for a few minutes before wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling out of me as jarringly as he started.

I barely had time to process the change when I felt the riding crop hit my ass hard. I yelped in surprise then moaned as the pain turned to tingling. A swift hard hit landed on my other cheek, and I felt his hands rub over the skin. “More?”  he asked, and I moaned out a yes. Slap Slap. The crop hit both cheeks one right after the other. I yelped, then moaned. Slap Slap. Yelp. Moan. Slap. Slap. I yelped. This time though, the pain stayed longer and the moan came later. Slap. Slap. I yelped. When I didn’t moan, he began to massage the skin again. “Good girl.” He soothed. “You did great.” He kissed each cheek before kissing a trail up my back. When he was close to my ear he lowered his head and whispered in my ear. “Ready?”

No. No. I wasn’t ready. Not for another slap from the crop. I didn’t want to use a safe-word so I paused, trying to lengthen the reprieve.

“Answer me baby.” I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t say no, and I wouldn’t safe out. Not this early in the relationship. “Are you ok?” There was a touch of panic in his voice.

The pain was lessening but I answered hesitantly. “Yes.”

“Did we reach your pain threshold?” He soothed me as he asked, and I nodded yes. “Ok baby. I’ll remember that.” He shifted until the head of his penis pushed against my slit. “Ready for me?” I nodded eagerly now that I knew what he was asking about.

He slammed into me, pushing me forward and down into the bed. He yanked me up onto my knees again and held me with a ruthless grip on my waist as he pulled me back onto him fast and rough. I screamed out in joy as he pounded relentlessly into me for what seemed like hours, his grunts mixing with my screams. I came quickly, but he didn’t slow, didn’t stop, he kept pounding into me unceasingly until his grunts grew louder and he exploded inside me with a loud roar wildly thrusting as he emptied himself inside me.

I collapsed and he slowly lowered us onto the bed, sliding his arm under me and pulling me until my head was cradled on his chest. We laid there, catching our breath. His hands caressed me gently, and my skin tingled with each touch. I sighed, content to lay with him forever, and he was in no hurry to move either. So we laid there touching, kissing, enjoying each other for a long time. “Let’s get you cleaned up and get some sleep,” he said softly. I smiled wide as I realized he wanted to sleep with me.

Part 3

 @mindofasagittaruis​ @lclb13​ @reigns-5sos​

[downwiththeficness]

A Need So Great-Chapter 14

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count: ~3,300

Warnings: Smut

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape @revolution-starter @autumnleaves1991-blog @jedi-mando @buckysalefty @anaeve

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

The ocean was huge. Wind blowing her hair around her face as Eva sat on the cliff’s edge, her feet swinging. The waves were rushing towards her, the tide coming in. She could taste salt in the air, could feel a light spray even from this height. This was really, really nice.

Footsteps sounded behind her, Horacio ambling up the slight incline. He was wearing a t shirt and jeans, a far cry from his normal attire. Eva admired the way the denim clung to his legs, the shirt stretching to accommodate the breadth of his body. She gave him a little wave before turning her attention back to the water. He sat down next to her. They had spent almost a week at the house, their existence a soft moseying pace that belied the very real danger to their lives.

“Do you come here a lot?”

He shook his head, “I used to, back before I took the badge. The work kind of got in the way of taking any time off.”

She had seen that first hand, could tell that he was desperately soaking up the softness of this little hideaway, storing it for when he needed it most. Tucked away as they were, Eva could almost forget all of the turmoil waiting for them when they returned. She imagined he felt nearly the same way.

“Shame that you’re here under these circumstances.  This is a nice place.”

Eva could see him look at her from the corner of her eye. He placed a hand atop hers, “Its not a shame, just a compromise.”

Her mouth thinned, “Still…” She trailed off, not sure where she was going with the sentence.

He squeezed her hand, “Up. Dinner’s ready.”

Eva was not much of a cook, though she was pretty good at making staple foods.  Horacio, on the other hand, clearly learned something from his mother. The way he handled himself in the kitchen was much like he did at work—mission oriented. Eva would sometimes sit at the dining table and flip through an old magazine, not really reading it.  She like to watch him move around, a knife in hand to chop vegetables, or flipping over meat in the pan to brown it.

Today’s meal was a stuffed pepper, spices wafted in the air. He’d made rice to go alongside it. From the cellar, he’d pulled a bottle of wine, two glasses already waiting at their usual spots. Eva couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she sat down.  He’d already plated their food and she leaned down, inhaling.  

“This looks amazing,” she murmured, picking up her fork, “Thank you.”

He made a non-committal sound, as he usually did when she complimented him on his cooking. She cast him a long glance, noting that he was avoiding her gaze by pouring the wine. He did that a lot, took the praise she gave him and pulled it inside himself. She could tell he was pleased by the little flush across his cheeks, but other than that, it was as if he hadn’t heard her. She wondered if that was a product of his life—couldn’t be too eager for approval.

After dinner, Horacio left her on the couch to do a walk of the perimeter, as he did every evening before they locked up. It would take one of his patented interrogation techniques to get her to admit how attractive it was to watch him load a rifle and take the path around the house and out towards the woods.

He would be gone for an hour or so, depending on what he decided needed further investigation. Eva passed the time by taking a long shower and reading yet another way too old magazine in bed. The bedroom windows were open and the breeze was carrying the smell of the ocean inside.

The sun was almost set when he came back, moving into the bedroom and storing the rifle in a case that he kept laying on the chest at the foot of the bed. He straightened and looked at her for a long moment.

“What?” she asked, feeling anxious under his steady stare.

His expression softened, “I like you like this.”

Laughing softly, she lifted a brow, “You mean wearing a t shirt I’ve owned for five years and my hair still wet because I couldn’t be bothered to dry it?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, “I mean relaxed.”

Eva supposed that she was relaxed, though she had every reason not to be. She liked him relaxed, too.

“I feel safe.”

Jaw going lax, he regarded her for a few more seconds before giving a curt nod and turn, “I’m gonna get cleaned up.”

Eva noticed that he took a little longer in the shower than usual, had done so since they got to the safe house.  She tried not to read into it too deeply, knowing that he was off his schedule. And, everyone needed alone time.

When he left the bathroom, steam billowed out behind him, carrying the scent of his body wash. He was wearing his usual boxer briefs in a deep maroon. It was a good color for him, accenting the warm undertones of his skin. She stared at him, unabashed, and wondered how she’d gotten so lucky as to share a bed with such a beautiful man.

“What?” he asked, noting her look as he crawled in beside her to lay on top of the covers.

Eva set her magazine on the night stand and rolled to her side, bracing on her palm so that she hovered above his prone body.

“I like you like this.”

In the next second, Eva got to see those adorable dimples, his teeth flashing as he smiled. She leaned down and kissed him affectionately.

When he spoke next, his voice reverberated against her ear where it lay on his chest. He toyed with her hand, threading his fingers through it.

“We’ve come a long way these last few months.”

She hummed, nodding. His hand was calloused in a few places, the longer fingers curling over her palm. Her hand looked small when he held it, her wrist even smaller, her forearm positively tiny when compared to his.

“I never would have guessed after that meeting that I’d get to bring you here.”

Eva grinned, looking up at him, “I was a fucking mess after that meeting. I hope you know that.”

The features of his face tightened in a peculiar way, an involuntary twitch.

Eva’s grin widened, “That was an inside thought.”

Laughing, Horacio admitted, “It was.”

“Tell me.”

He started to shake his head, but Eva shifted to her belly, resting her weight on one elbow. She said his name in four long, drawn out, teasing syllables.

Pulling his lips between his teeth and releasing them, he simply said, “I was also a fucking mess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he echoed, one hand coming up to run over his face, top to bottom. He covered his eyes, chin tilting up, “I…” deep sigh, “I went into rut after that meeting.”

Her brows hit her hairline, “Really?”

He dropped his hand to the pillow beside his head, the fingers relaxed, “I told you it took less than twenty four hours for me to start trying to figure out how to see you again.”

“Yeah,” Eva confirmed, “But I assumed you were just, I don’t know, thinking about me.”

Smirking, he said, “Oh, I was.”

Her breath caught a little bit, arousal blooming in her belly as she imagined him in rut, helplessly trying to get off as he thought about her.

Voice dropping low, Eva prompted, “Really?”

His eyes darkened as he tucked her hair behind her ear, “I barely made it home before I—I didn’t even get past the front door. Just dropped down to the floor and thought about how delicious you smelled, the things I wanted to do to you.”

Blood heating in her veins, Eva swallowed around a dry throat, “What kinds of things?”

Horacio’s arm tightened around her, his eyes dropping to her mouth, “That I wanted to kiss you. That I should have thrown you down on that table in front of that idiot manager and fucked you through at least three orgasms.”

Her breath left her in a rush. She worked hard to keep herself calm. He didn’t talk that much about his fantasies, and she was desperate to hear more from him. Eva did not want to interrupt.

She kissed him softly in encouragement, “What else?”

Breathing her name, he ran his thumb over her mouth, “I could scent that you were aroused when you sat down. I wanted to lick that sweetness from the source, use my fingers to scoop it out of you. I spent hours imaging what it would be like to pull your legs over my shoulders and kiss this pretty pussy.”

The fingers of one of his hands had traced up her inner thigh in a lazy caress. He cupped her, massaging very gently. She gasped lifting her leg over his hip to open up for him.

“We’re very lucky you haven’t had a heat cycle yet. Given how I was in my last rut, I’d probably lose my fucking mind.”

Eva flinched, feeling guilty.

“What was that?” he asked, head lifting off the pillow to regard her closely.

She floundered, trying to come up with a suitable lie.

“Eva,” he warned, “What was that?”

Voice small, she said, “I’ve had a heat recently.”

His head cocked to the side, “Before we met?”

She shook her head, “No it was after we met, after we started seeing each other.”

He blinked, “That’s impossible, I would have known.”

Unable to keep eye contact she admitted, “You weren’t there. It was when you were gone for that mission.”

He processed that for several seconds, his eyes narrowing more and more, “Your voice was strange on the phone.”

Eva nodded, “I was on the upswing of it. It got...more interesting over the next few days.”

Horacio’s brows furrowed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Eva was torn by the honest, confused expression he was giving her, as if he couldn’t even fathom that she’d hide it from him. Guilty, she offered the only explanation she had.

“You were so excited. You said you thought you had a real chance at ending the whole cartel. How could I take that away from you? Especially since we’d only slept together a handful of times. It would have been selfish to ask you to set that aside for me.”

Stop talking, Eva, she thought.

Pushing off with one hand, he rolled her beneath him, resting his weight on his palms. Eva looked up at him silently, trying to gauge his thoughts.

“You’re not going to do that again,” he asserted, the muscles in his jaw ticking, “I will be with you during your next heat, no matter what is going on at the office.”

Lifting a hand, Eva brushed his cheek, his stubble scratching a little.  Since they’d come out here, he hadn’t been shaving every day and she found that she liked that he had something more than a five ‘o clock shadow.

“I’m going to need verbal agreement on this, Eva.”

“Okay,” she replied. “I’ll tell you next time.”

“Good.” He dropped to his elbows, resting a little more of his weight on her, “Now, I told you mine. Its your turn to tell me yours.”

Eva’s face went red hot, heat soaking every pore. Her eyes slid to the side as she contemplated how much information she was going to give him about a heat that she had only a moment ago admitted that she’d had.

Moving in close, his voice a deep rasp, he ordered, “Dime, amorcita. How did you get through it?”

She sucked in a breath, her body curling into him a little bit.  When she tried to rise up to kiss him, he used one hand to hold her down to the mattress, his chin canted down.

Eva’s mind flashed back to that day, her body clenching as she remembered the rush of pleasure, the cramps of pain when she couldn’t assuage the need.

“I slept some, woke up coming. My skin was too sensitive. And, at first, I couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t until I was on the couch,” she stopped, biting her lip.

Her voice was a raspy thing, the words halting. She cleared her throat, squirming beneath his weight.

Horacio ran a soothing hand down her side, “What happened on the couch?”

“I touched myself, I felt like I would die if I didn’t come.”

Eyes full of fire, he asked, “And, did you make yourself come?”

She nodded.

“How many times?”

“Twice.”

With both hands, he pushed up her t-shirt to rest just underneath her breasts, “What happened next?”

Eva’s fingers curled into fists beside her hips, “You called.”

His eyes shot to hers, “And you lied to me.”

“No,” she cried, “I just...avoided the subject.”

Horacio’s nostrils flared in annoyance, “But, you’re not going to do that again.”

“N—no.”

He gave on sharp nod in acknowledgment of her submission, “Good. What happened after that?”

His hands followed a twin path over her sides to her hips to her thighs, all the way to her knees. Wrapping his hands around them, he pulled them up and over his body, pulling the cradle of her hips into alignment so that she could feel him hardening against her core.

“I had to crawl to the bedroom,” she continued, the flush of her arousal mixing with the feeling of embarrassment. “I didn’t make it to the bed before I had to come again.”

Kissing her collarbone, he asked, “Did you use your fingers?”

She nodded, gripping his biceps for purchase as he scraped his teeth along her skin.

“Did you use your fingers the whole time?”

Swallowing, Eva shook her head, knowing where this was going and completely unable to stop it. He’d gotten into a line of questioning, and she knew he’d see it through to the end.

“What did you use?”

She hesitated long enough that he stopped nuzzling her skin and looked up at her, waiting for an answer. When she didn’t say anything, he moved up her body, kissing her cheek sweetly, then her forehead, her chin, her jaw, everywhere but where she wanted him.

“What did you use?” he repeated, his breath fanning over her lips.

Eva struggled to breathe, “I used a toy—to help.”

Thumb rubbing her bottom lip, eyes focused on that sensitized patch of skin, he asked, “A vibrator?”

She shook her head, tongue peeking out to touch the pad of this thumb, “A dildo.”

With a little groan, he kissed her, putting a little pressure on her jaw so that she would open for him. Pulling in a sharp breath, he leaned back, an arm sneaking around her waist to hold her to him.

“Did it help you get what you needed?”

Again, she shook her head, “It helped some, but I was still hurting through most of it.”

His expression hardened just a bit, a barely perceptible glare. Needing to soothe that ire, Eva reached up with both hands and slid her thumbs into the muscle at the base of his skull, kneading. His eyes closed just a little, jaw relaxing.

“Did it,” he cut himself off with a sigh when she ground a knuckle into the tense muscle. He leaned into it, his head tilting to the side, “Did it have a knot?”

“Yes,” she whispered, biting the inside of her cheek when his hips flexed forward, grinding against her.

He kissed her again, a hard press of his lips, “Did you fuck yourself with it, push it inside you?”

Between kisses, she nodded. The memory of the relieving pressure scoring through her, her body arching up into him.

“But it wasn’t enough.”

It was sentence, a declaration, not a question. He knew it, she knew it.

“No,” she warbled, tilting her hips towards him, hands roaming over his strong shoulders and back, pulling him to her to that the wasn’t an inch between them. “I wanted more. Wanted you.”

In a swift motion, he pulled off her t shirt, throwing it over the side of the bed carelessly. His hands found her breasts, pushing them up to his mouth. Long licks, a pinch of skin, teeth scraping. Eva hissed  a breath, her body fairly vibrating with pleasure.

“You wanted my knot, didn’t you?” When she didn’t reply, he swatted her thigh lightly, drawing her attention, “Didn’t you?”

Her eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, she made an ‘uh huh’ sound that cracked on the highest pitch.  He was hard against her, his hips rocking in a sharp rhythm that, had he been inside her, would have prodded against her cervix. Sweat beaded on her belly and thighs, pooling in the hollow of her throat. He licked at it, drawing her briefly into his mouth.

“You’d let me do it now, wouldn’t you? Let me knot you in this bed.”

The image seared through her, burning away any restraint she might have had—which was, admittedly, not much to begin with. Feet on the sheets, she used any leverage she could get to put more friction on her cunt, each roll of her hips more frenzied than the last.

“Yes, alpha.”

Growling, Horacio pushed his face into the bend of her neck, hands slipping underneath her and to her shoulders where he held her steady. Mouth opening, he ran his teeth over the long line from shoulder to jaw before settling on the scent gland he’d marked.  Though the bruising had healed, Eva could still see the faint scratch across it where his teeth had dug in. He sucked on it hard, sure enough to leave yet another bruise.

Eva wailed, a broken, sobbing thing, as she came. Nails digging into his back, she bowed up tight.  Distantly, she could heard him praising her, his voice rough.  He let her rut against him until her body eased down from the orgasm, and then he was pushing his briefs down and grasping himself, roughly stroking.

She took in the sight of him, chin down, breathing hard, working to get off. It stunned her how badly she wanted to memorize this moment, and how badly she wanted to seem him come. Both hands caressing downwards, she hooked the fingers of one hand into her panties, pulling them to the side. With two fingers of the other, she slotted them into her folds, opening them up to give him an unobstructed view of how wet he’d made her.

He choked on a gasp, groaning as his fist sped up. It only took a few pumps before he was spilling across her stomach, his head hanging low in relief. When he was spent, he collapsed to his side, trying to catch his breath.

Eva giggled, feeling more than a little lightheaded. He glanced at her, his mouth spreading wide in a smile. He picked up her hand from where it lay at her side, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist and holding it to his chest.  She could feel his heart beat beneath his skin, a steadily slowing rhythm.

When he’d calmed a little, he rose and went to the bathroom, bringing a wet cloth to wipe her down. Moving around the room, he closed the windows, locking them tight, before doing the same with the door. After turning off the lights, he eased into the bed and gathered her to his chest.  Eva held his arm to her body, threading her fingers in his.

[arya-skywalker]

Starved for attention Part 2 (Sanders Sides Fanfic)

Notes: Aiming for 3-4 parts total, hopefully. Sorry for the wait and hope you enjoy! This one’s a bit fluffier.

Also thanks to the TSS Fanworks Server for bouncing ideas around! Apply here to join.

TW: imprisonment, starvation, malnutrition, touch starvation, bathing (implied nudity, no details)

Part 1

~*~

Janus stirred and rubbed his eyes groggily. It was difficult to tell time down here, but something told him it was roughly morning.

“Hey, Fangs.” Virgil was in the cell with him, curled up a few feet away with pillows and blankets. “Lo said you’re touch starved?”

Janus stiffened slightly. “When did you get here?”

“While you were asleep, obviously. Logan let me in,” Virgil said with a half smile. “You look cold. Can I at least give you a blanket?”

Janus nodded slowly. “Yesss.... pleassse.”

Virgil edged closer and gently draped the blanket over his shoulders. “We move at your pace. It’s alright.”

Janus huddled under the blanket, nuzzling the soft fabric. God it felt good. He looked back over at the anxious side. “Sssit next to me?” he asked, hating how small his voice sounded.

Virgil nodded and did so, leaving a few inches between them. “You can... uh... lean against me if you want,” he said.

Warm warm WARM! Janus waited a few minutes to get used to the idea that another person was so close, then hesitantly rested his head on Virgil’s shoulder. “Mm. You’re warm,” he mumbled into the hoodie.

Virgil laughed softly. “Yeah. I know. Do you want my arm around you or nah?”

Janus nodded, closing his eyes and nestling close once he felt the comforting pressure. A good warm. “I misssed you.”

Virgil was silent for a moment. His body tensed ever-so-slightly, but he didn’t let go. “I’m sorry. I was... scared. And I didn’t know.... I didn’t think it would get this bad. How long have you been like this?”

“Sstopped keeping track,” Janus muttered, pulling the blanket closer. “Better not to know.”

“Jan. You know this isn’t good, right? You’re so fucking skinny, I could count all your bones.”

“Oh really? I hadn’t noticed,” Janus drawled, then hummed thoughtfully. “Can I move to your lap? Floor’s cold.”

Virgil sighed. “Sure, whatever.” He gently helped Janus onto his lap, holding him to make sure he didn’t fall. “You know you can’t stay down here much longer.”

“Mmm. You have a better idea?” Janus curled up on his lap, head on Virgil’s chest, soaking up the warmth. “This issss my room now. The ‘dark side’ commonsss are a messs. Any other room could corrupt me, you know that.”

“At least you’d be in an actual bed!” Virgil scowled, then bit his lip. “Unless.... unless we make this place more habitable?”

Janus hugged the pillow and squinted up at Virgil. “Thiss iss a cell. It’s not ssupposed to be comfortable.”

“Who the fuck cares? You’re hurting, Jan. You need help.”

Janus looked away, watching the chains sway. “It could hurt you if you try. I won’t die. I’ll be fine.”

“Janus, look at me. You’re hurting yourself and it sucks. Let us help you.”

Janus’s tongue flicked out, then he sighed and looked back at Virgil. “If the cell fights back, you stop. Clear?”

Virgil smiled grimly. “Yeah. Clear,” he said. “Roman should be able to make some furniture or whatever.”

“Ssstay with me. Pleassse.” Janus closed his eyes tiredly, clinging loosely to Virgil.

“I’m here. Just get some rest, alright?”

Janus wanted to protest, but it was so soft and warm.... He found himself dozing off before he could say another word.

~*~

Janus burrowed into the pile of blankets and pillows. Soft and warm. Exactly what he needed.

But Virgil was gone.

He frowned slightly and sat up, wrapping a blanket around himself. “Virgil?” Janus asked softly. But there was no answer. “Virgil!”

He’s gone. He left you again. He still hates you.

Janus shook his head, hugging a pillow tightly. No. He just.... went to get some food. That has to be it.

Footsteps. Roman’s footsteps.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!” Roman sang, twirling as he approached.

“Mmm. And what if I prefer to sstay coiled up in my nessst?” Janus countered.

Roman huffed. “I brought you more food! And some tea. You like tea better than coffee, right?”

Janus nodded slowly. “Did Virgil....?”

“Yes! He told me all about it! We’re going to make this place fit for nobility,” Roman said, beaming.

Janus shrunk into his nest of pillows. “Nothing too fancy. We don’t want to push our luck,” he replied.

“Ridiculous! You deserve the best, and I will give it to you!”

Janus groaned. “Roman, pleassse!”

Roman blinked. “Oh... you’re being serious?”

Janus glared at him. “Yessss I am.” He sighed and rubbed his face. “Jussst... baby steps. Ssee how the cell reactsss.”

“Well.... I guess,” Roman grumbled, then created a key and opened the cell door.

Again, Janus stared at the doorway. It was so easy for them to open it. Why couldn’t he just...? It wouldn’t hurt anyone... Maybe he could...

Roman strode inside, created a small table by the door, and set the food down. Then he clapped his hands and grinned. “Let’s get started! You’ll need a bed and a chair and a desk and a closet and a fireplace and—“

“Ssstop!” Janus held up his hands, then sighed and shook his head. “Sslow down, Your Highnesss. Remember, keep it ssssimple!”

Roman pouted. “But mon python, you deserve the best!”

“Thiss iss not going to work if you fight me every ssstep of the way,” Janus hissed, glaring up at him. Dammit, he felt so small.

He clenched his jaw, then carefully gathered his feet under himself and used the wall as support to stand. It hurt. His legs wobbled. His head spun. This was a bad idea.

Roman rushed over and caught him. “Whoa now! Careful, my frail flower,” he chided, holding him close.

Janus whined, but clung to him. This was embarrassing. He was Deceit. He was Self-Preservation. It shouldn’t be this hard to stand! “I’m fine,” he spat.

Roman scooped him up, which certainly didn’t help. “Here now, I’ve got you!”

Janus squeezed his eyes shut, hiding his face in Roman’s sash. Too fast. Too high. He felt Roman tense as the prince realized his error.

“Oh. Do you want me to put you down?”

“Mmm. Make a bed and put me down on it. A sssimple twin bed. Nothing fancy.”

“How boring!” Roman complained, but with a flourish he did so. “Fine. How’s that?”

Janus took a deep breath and looked at the bed, running his hand across the blanket. It was not too hard, not too soft. Certainly better than the floor and pillow nest. Luckily not too fancy either— light yellow cloth, metal frame with vague snake designs. “Thank you. This is perfect, my prince,” he said, resting his head on the pillow.

Roman beamed at the praise. “Oh goodie! What next?”

Janus hesitated, looking around the cell that had been his home for.... he didn’t even want to know how long. “I don’t need much, my prince,” he said.

Roman tapped his foot. “I know! Lights!” He snapped his fingers, making a large iron candelabra appear with half-melted candles, as well as twining fairy lights around some of the chains.

Janus sighed. “Very pretty, Your Highnesss, but I don’t—“

“Books! You like to read, right? You need a bookshelf!” Roman made a bookshelf appear. “What sort of books? Classics, of course....”

Janus felt a smile tug at his lips. “Forbidden love? With a side of anarchy?”

“Of course, charm snakelet!” Roman beamed, filling the shelves with various books. “What about music?” A record player materialized on top of the bookshelf.

“My prince, you ssspoil me rotten.” Goodness, when was the last time he had actual entertainment? He reached for Roman’s hand. “Come here, pleassse.”

Roman immediately knelt by the bedside and took Janus’s gloved hand, kissing it lightly. “I’m here, treasure,” he said.

Janus looked around the cell. It was already so much better.... but yet, the grime from before remained. “My prince?” he asked quietly.

“Yes charm snakelet?” Roman replied with a dazzling smile.

Janus blushed faintly. “I.... if you don’t mind.... do you think you could.... help me bathe?” He asked sheepishly. “I know I’m disgusting at the moment but...”

Roman snapped his fingers, making a claw-foot bathtub appear, already filled with steaming water and floral-scented soaps.

Janus sank into the bed. “Oh thank goodnessssss.....”

Roman gently helped him to the bath. “You’ll be shining like the sun in no time!”

“Mmmm.... thank you,” Janus murmured, carefully slipping into the warm bath. Clean. He would finally be clean again.

Roman’s touched was light, as if Janus were made of glass that could break at any second. But the bath was soothing as any massage. Once done, Roman wrapped him in heated towels before helping him change into clean clothes.

“Thank you, my prince,” Janus murmured, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

~*~

Logan visited yet again. “May I take your vitals now?” he asked.

Janus sighed. “We are imaginary. I don’t know what you think you’ll find,” he muttered.

“Your metaphysical state reflects that of a human. Well, in your case, half-human and half-reptilian. We cannot die, but we can become ill. If I find an issue that can be remedied, you will recover sooner.” Logan adjusted his tie.

Janus stared at him for a moment, then reluctantly nodded. “Very well. Do what you must.”

Logan opened the cell door and stepped inside. Janus looked away to avoid staring at the taunting path. He remained still as Logan checked his pulse, his lungs, his reaction times, and anything else that he could.

“I... have a hypothesis,” Logan said slowly.

“Do sshare with the classss,” Janus drawled.

Logan frowned. “There is no class—“

“Figure of speech. Continue, please.”

Logan cleared his throat. “I believe that observing some memories of when Thomas has utilized your function may help expedite your recovery,” he said carefully.

Janus blinked. “Watching memories of him lying and putting himself first and such?” he clarified.

“Yes, exactly.” Logan reached into his briefcase and pulled out a small box. “I have one here.”

“Does Patton know?” Janus looked at the box warily.

Logan adjusted his tie. “No, not yet. I made sure to choose a memory related to his education so it would be less suspicious.”

Janus took a deep breath and held out his hands. “Alright. Let me sssee it,” he said.

“Please tell me if you feel anything... strange,” Logan said, then placed the box on Janus’s open palm.

Janus opened the box, trying to ignore how much his hands were shaking. A warm light filled the room and the memory played out before his eyes.

Thomas, laying in bed, coughing— definitely a fake cough— begging his mother to let him stay home from school. Somehow she believed it. But as soon as the door closed, Thomas bolted to his feet and ran downstairs. He made himself breakfast of frozen waffles piled high with various sweets and put on the tv to watch The Office. A mental health day. Thomas was playing hooky to a day to himself. And apparently catch up on homework, but whatever.

Janus gasped once the memory faded and closed the box, feeling a burst of energy.

“Did it work?” Logan asked.

“I... think sssso,” Janus said slowly.

“How do you feel?”

“As if I downed an expresso with a chocolate pastry. A jolt of energy that will likely come crashing down in the not-so-distant future.” Janus tightened his grip on the box. “May I keep it?”

Logan wrote something down, then frowned. “Of course not. I must return the memory to Patton. Please hand it over.”

Janus hissed, recoiling with the box in his arms. “Sssay you losst it!”

“I will not engage in falsehoods if it can be easily avoided. Deceit, give me the memory, please.”

Janus glared at him. “Don’t want to.”

“You are being unreasonable.”

“Don’t care.”

“Deceit—“

Janus bared his fangs. “Get out!”

Logan took a step back. “I am only trying to help you without hurting Thomas or Patton. Surely you understand?”

Janus glared at him, holding the memory close to his chest. His tongue flicked out. “One day,” he said finally. “Let me keep it for one day. Then I will give it back.”

Logan hesitated. “You should not watch it too many times. Thomas might notice and begin obsessing over the memory.”

“Noted.”

Logan bowed his head and left, once again locking the door behind himself. Janus waited until the logical side was gone before rewatching the memory. His strength would return in time. He simply had to be patient.

[starlling-writes]

Bewitching Monsters - Orc (Valzok) Part 2

Series Rating: 18+ Chapter Contains: swearing, suggestive dialogue, ritual cutting/bloodletting Pairing: f/m BeMo Masterlist   ☆  Writing Masterlist

“Sorry for not asking your name before. Many of my customers don’t offer them—they hold power for most fae—so I don’t normally ask.”

“No worries, Witch.” His soft chuckle and warm eyes made me melt inside.

The rest of his visit was just business. Valzok checked my wood racks, did some math and figured out a delivery schedule that worked for both of us. He would be chopping the wood at his workshop and delivering it here; at least he’d bring it himself and not have a courier do it.

“Alright. It’ll take me the rest of the day to make the oil for your enchantment. Then a couple hours tomorrow to cast it. You can either leave your things here and pick them up at your leisure; or you can drop them off the next chance you get and kill some time while I work.”

“I can come back tomorrow afternoon if that works for you.”

“Yup. It’s a date.” Instantly I cringed. “Um—you know what I meant.” Today was going great. He only chuckled in response, stoking the fires of both embarrassment and desire within me. He packed up while I busied myself prepping ingredients. I knew my face was flushed. And I needed to calm down before I could stand looking at him again.

One day would be enough to compose myself right?

The first part of the potion was boiling steadily. It would take time to reduce. I wandered up to my loft and started looking through my things. Specifically, I started going through the trunk at the foot of my bed. Valzok was still flittering in my mind.

“What does an orc cock look like?” Caera chirped in.

I jumped and dropped the dildo I was looking at. I took a second before answering her. “I don’t even know where to begin with that.”

“So you have seen one, Mistress?”

“By the gods.” Slamming the trunk closed, ignoring the number of toys still scattered on the floor, I went back to the kitchen. The potion was nowhere near done and staring at it was not going to help. But I needed to distract myself from the conversation Caera was trying to force.

“Are they as thick as the rest of them?”

“Stop!” I groaned. She was only making my aching lust worse.

“Are their heads rounded or flared? Are they ridged? Do they have a—”

“If you wanna know so badly, why don’t you go fuck one then.”

“You know I haven’t the body for that, Mistress,” she crooned.

“Then fuck a ghost orc.” Her laughter echoed about the room as she drifted close to me. She was not letting this go. Two more minutes of her pestering and I cracked. “Moon help me—I haven’t seen an orc dick before! Okay?”

The silence was as bad as her laughter.

“Surely there are toys that—”

“Yes! Yes. There are realistic toys I could get. I could even just look up pictures. However, to do either of those I’d have to go into town to use the public café’s public Mind and I really don’t feel like doing that.” During my rant, I knocked over a jar of herbs that dominoed into my candle rack, sending half of my mini tapers rolling off under my worktable. My sigh was close to a growl as I bent to pick them up.

“You could always ask the carpenter to see his wood.”

“What?!” I yelped. I also hit my head on the underside of the table—that’s what I get for trying to wrangle the fallen candles when Caera was in this mood. I retreated to the safety of the open room and cushy floor pillows. “What is with you tonight?”

“I’m sorry, Mistress. I know this is bold of me to say, but you have such a longing look in your eyes. I was merely suggesting sating it.”

“We just had sex a couple days ago!”

“Five days. Though I don’t think what we did compares to corporeal intercourse.” She wasn’t wrong. Thinking about it, it had been some time since I got any actual action. However, I disagreed with her suggestion about Valzok. There was no way I could see him tomorrow and casually ask Hey, wanna fuck?

No. Just—no.

 Valzok arrived right on time. I was halfway into my ritual headspace so greetings were short. And with how long this would take, I wanted to start right away. Once again I had him lay out his tools, though this time on the floor. “Once you’re done, feel free to go back to town. I’ll be done in about two hours.”

“Actually, if you don’t mind I’d like to stay and watch you work.”

I held his eyes for a second—they were such a lovely moss green—then nodded. If he really wanted to be bored out of his mind here then so be it. Made no difference to me.

I settled in. Prepping a cloth with the oil I made yesterday, I picked up the first tool and began anointing the blade. As I covered both sides of the blade, I cut my finger.

“You’re bleeding. Let me get you somethi—”

“It’s fine,” I stopped him short. “It’s actually a part of the spell.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize.” He shifted in his seat with a firm set brow and frown.

I chuckled to myself and continued working, mixing my blood with the oil on the blade. “I wouldn’t do the spell this way if there was any serious danger in it. The cuts will be easily healed afterwards.”

“Cuts?” he emphasized.

“Yes. I’ll make a small cut on my hands on each blade I anoint. Don’t worry; it doesn’t hurt. I took a tincture before you got here to make sure of it. And as I said: easily healed afterwards.” Despite my attempts to reassure him, he still seemed unsettled. It was always amusing seeing my customers’ shock when they see some of my magical methods.

I refocused and continued my work.

 I zoned out for most of it. Towards the last third of my work I began noticing a loud, rhythmic thumping. I glanced around the room but couldn’t find any source of the intrusive noise. I did find that Valzok was no longer here. Curious. I finished anointing the saw blade I had in my hands before getting up and glancing out the window.

In front of my house I saw the orc in question chopping up a tree. Shirtless. I had no idea how long he had been out there—or where he got the tree—but he already had a good sweat worked up. Sweat wasn’t my usual thing. But right now—mmph. It was entrancing watching his muscle work. Seeing the way the sun glistened along his body. Hearing that feint grunt each time he swung the axe.

My axe.

Would he handle me as adeptly?

What would his moans sound like when he thrusts into me?

How soaked and scattered would my sheets get by the end of a night together?

Damn was I distracted. The longer I stared at Valzok, the further out of ritual headspace I slipped. And I still had magic to work… The only thing that made it possible to drag myself away from the window was the knowledge that the sooner I finished my work, the more of Valzok’s work I’d get to enjoy.

 When I finished up, I was a bit disappointed to see Valzok back inside. Still shirtless, he sat hunched forward, elbows on his knees, a near empty glass of water sat on the table next to him. His solid gaze fixed on me. “Done outside, or taking a break?” As I stood up I wobbled, hit by a quick burst of vertigo from magical loss kicking in. Just like the cuts, it was something expected and simple to correct. “Don’t give me that look. I’m perfectly fine.”

“She says as she bleeds all over the floor.”

I looked down at my hands. Okay, he had a point. It totally looked like I confused a pile of broken glass for bread dough—a dozen loaves worth of dough. Though I wasn’t quite bleeding all over the floor; just a few drops here and there…and over there. “Caera.” Without delay, she retrieved my healing salve, a washcloth, and a bowl of warm water and placed them on the table. A couple minutes, a little magic, and I was good as new.

“See,” I said and turned. Valzok was already standing beside me. He grabbed my hands and inspected them, running his thumb across the backs. He flipped my palms up and traced down my fingers. It left me hot and shivering.

“You still almost feinted.”

“I just need to recharge. Some food and rest is all I need.”

“Then let me treat you to lunch.”

— — —

BeMo Masterlist   ☆  Writing Masterlist

Story: Previous  —  Next

Character Arc: Part 1  [Here]  Part 3   Part 4   Part 5

[broken-shoulders-blog]

America’s Toughest Mudder East

5.18 - 5.19.19

Coatesville, PA

This past weekend was America's Toughest Mudder East- a 12 hour, non-stop, obstacle course race through the night in Coatesville, PA put on by Tough Mudder. The race is one of 4 regional events in the states, supplemented by one in Europe. The format of the series is simple- how many 5-mile loops can you complete between 8pm and 8am when you're slowed down by 20 obstacles per lap?

For me, the answer was 9.

In the week leading up to the event, my nutrition-oriented friend had convinced me to eat not one, not a couple, not a few, but several watermelon. He said that watermelon is full of arganine, which converts to nitric oxide in the body and is basically a superfood for endurance athletes. "Eat several watermelon this week," he said, "and come Saturday, you'll be unstoppable." This kid works out maybe once per month and podiums at nearly every endurance event he runs. Who was I to not eat any watermelon?

I went straight to the grocery store and picked up watermelons in such large quantities that I felt like some kid you read about in a math problem. "If Kera buys 6 watermelons on Monday and eats 4 on Wednesday, how many watermelons does she have left?" I sat on my couch, enjoyed my taper, and ate absurd quantities of watermelon.

I left my house just before 1pm on Saturday, drove to the Bronx to pick up two friends, and headed down to the venue. We stopped for dinner at a lovely establishment for which we were far underdressed. Between the nerves and amount of watermelon I had eaten, I didn't have too much of an appetite.

We got to the venue around 6:45, thinking we had plenty of time to setup our tent and gear, only to find out that they were starting the briefing at 7:15 and clearing everybody out of the pit area. As if I wasn't nervous enough; I couldn't have been less prepared. I wasn't dressed, my hair wasn't braided, I hadn't taped my ankles. I more or less threw my gear into a pile and told Will, my pit crew member, good luck.

Lap 1

In these types of races, I very consistenly make the mistake of coming out of the gate way, way too hot. This time was no exception. Surrounded by the energy of everyone around me, I flew through the first lap. For the first lap, Tough Mudder keeps all the obstacles closed, this way the herd can thin a bit and there's no bottlenecking at obstacles. My goal had been a 55 minute first lap. I came back through the pit area in almost 45. Oops. Will handed me a banana and I sped back onto the course.

Lap 2

My second lap was supposed to be 1:10. I did it in an hour even. Oops again. I knew I was making a mistake too. I kept telling myself, "Slow down. Slow down. You're going to burn out." But I'm too stubborn to listen to even myself. When everyone around you is fueled with adreneline and excitement, it's nearly impossible to not be infected by it as well.

The sun set and the moon rose during lap 2. Satuday night was full moon. It rose over the venue, orange and bright as could be. I almost didn't need my headlamp. When I checked the leader board, I saw I was in sixth. Exicted, I scadaddled right back onto the course.

Lap 3

This lap was supposed to be 1:25. I ran it in 1:13. When I came back into the pit after lap 3, I really knew I was fucking up. My headlamp battery was starting to die and I couldn't see more than 2 feet in front of me. I tried to yell at Will that I needed to change my headlamp; the psychic already had one in his pocket. He handed me a sandwich and I jumped back onto the course.

Lap 4

I stopped paying attention to everyone around me and repeatedly told myself how long of a time 12 hours is. The importance of pacing. How I can't burn out. Again, my time goal was 1:25. I finished this lap in 1:23. The slowing pace hurt me, though. My body temp dropped a couple degrees. The wind was starting to pick up. I was soaking wet. I passed the girl who had been just seconds in front of me for the first three laps. I saw her shivering as she pulled herself out of a water obstacle. "Are you okay?" I asked. "Just cold," she answered. Fuck, me too, I thought.

When I came back into the pit area, Will forced me to change my shoes and put on a neoprene top.

Lap 5

So it turns out that after lap 4, I was supposed to pick up an orange wrist band from the timing tent . Maybe I would have known this had I made it to the briefing on time. Out on the course, you could exchange the wrist band and skip an obstacle. After lap 5, I was then able to pick up two.

Lap 6

I exhanged both my bands during this obstacle, skipping two of Tough Mudder's popular grip obstacles (Funkey Monkey & The Gaunlet). Grip endurance is such a strange thing. Once it's gone, it's gone. For events like this, I always stress the importance of grip endurance. If you have the option to chicken wing something instead of taxing your forearms, DO IT. If there's a carry, don't hold it by your fingers; hug it or throw it over your shoulder. If somebody gives you a magical orange wrist band, USE IT. I flew through this lap, saving a lot of energy without those obstacles. I was able to pick up a couple places, climbing into third.

Lap 7

The seventh lap was my most mentally taxing. It took place between the hours of 3am and 4:30am. There was next to nobody left on course. I kept wondering what time the sun would come up. I was doing a lot of math, figuring out if I'd be able to get a 9th lap in if my pace was x, y, or z. Then I stopped with the math and started asking myself if I even wanted to do a 9th lap. Would I lose out on third if I didn't go back out? If the fourth place girl was 20 minutes behind me and I would barely be able to finish the 9th lap, then would she be able to? Was I willing to put my body through the pain of another lap?

Lap 8

I heard the birds start to chirp. "Thank god," I thought. Everything got a bit lighter. A bit pink and then a bit orange. I resolved that I wasn't going back out for my ninth lap. I had my slowest lap of the night at 1:36. I was moving consistently at about 20 miles per hour. Couldn't even call it a jog. I made it to the timing tent and said, "That's it! Get me warm. Get me dry. Get me a beer. I'm done." A Tough Mudder employee told me I had a chance to grab second if I went back out. I told him I was zonked; there was no way I'd be able to catch her. "She already handed in her timing chip." "FUCK," I yelled at him, realizing that I had to. Peer pressure works wonders on me. He tied a yellow Lap Leader bib around me, somebody gave me a few sips of their coffee, and I bolted out of the pit area. I knew I would have to give it my all in order to make it back before 8am. I would need to cut over 10 minutes off my lap 8 time. Yikes.

Lap 9

I ripped through my ninth lap. Cutting more than 2 minutes off my pace than lap 8. There was nearly nobody out there. I didn't fail any obstacles and used my orange band on an obstacle called Blockness Monster that, quite frankly, I'm too short to do on my own. I came out of the woods into Mudder Village with 2 tough obstacles and a quarter mile to go and less than 15 minutes to spare. Everyone left in Mudder Village seemed to know the situation. They were cheering my name and yelling out how many minutes I had left. I smiled my first smile of the night. I climbed my way up Tough Mudder's 40-foot A-frame called Mudderhorn and darted through their final obstacle called Electroshock Therapy that is literally a maze of electrified wires. I bolted through the finish shoot. In tears and smiling, I fell into Will's arms. 5 minutes to spare.

Two minutes later, the fourth place female came flying in. Locking in third.

I don't know if I necessarily learned anything in this race, but certainly reiterated a lot of things I already know (but just neglect). A- Ultras are a long, long game. Don't count yourself out. You never know what can happen. B- It's all mental. Your body is capable of so much more than you think. Most people don't go far enough on their first wind to find out they have a second one.

Special thanks to my Vybe for keeping me alive during pits, Will for making me feel like Danica Patrick, and every single Mudder who helped me over an obstacle or gave me words of encouragement, particularly Francis Lackner who spent his entire race pulling people up Everest like some kind of Nepalese god. I’m sending him a pair of boxing wraps to help protect his wrists next time he decides to give so much to others.

[whentommymetalfie]

Gun in my hand, chapter five 

A/N: I. Am. A. Pile. Of. Mush. That’s all. Oh, and also, this is the last chapter, but there’ll be a oneshot epilogue/sequel to deal with more of the fall out. Now. that’s all. 

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter summary: Tommy is left to deal with the aftermath. 

Pairing: Alfie/Tommy

Warnings: Descriptions of insomnia/sleep deprivation and injury. Discussions and thoughts about death. 

Wordcount: 7100. (I KNOW!!! WHAT???) 

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14313621/chapters/35168402

Tommy is still surrounded by darkness. He thought he’d finally escaped, but now he’s drowning in it again. It fills his mouth and lungs like ice cold water- There are hands everywhere, tearing at him, hurting him, and he can’t hide from them.

He wakes up at the sound of someone screaming.

“Shh, it’s okay Tom, calm down.” Gentle hands grab his shoulders, holding him down and Tommy thrashes against them. “You’re going to hurt yourself. It’s just me. Just Arthur.”

He opens his eyes, convinced he’ll see nothing but the dark interiors of the cellar again, and blinks dazedly as the brightness in the room stings his eyes.

He’s lying in a bed, and Arthur is seated on the edge of it. Tommy scrambles to get his mind working. Why is he here? Blurry memories are resurfacing, disjointed and fragmented… Alfie lying on the warehouse floor, bleeding out in his arms. The ride to the hospital. Pacing the corridor as they rushed Alfie off to surgery.

Alfie.

“Where’s Alfie?” he rasps out, the words tearing a rattling cough from his lungs. Arthur holds a glass of water to his mouth, and the cool liquid soothes his burning throat. A shadow comes over Arthur's face.

“Tommy…”

“Where is Alfie?” he repeats, sitting up despite the pain that shoots through his ribcage.

Arthur’s answer comes after far too long. “He’s… resting.”

“But he’ll be okay? He’s… he’s just resting?” Tommy isn’t sure if this is a question or something he tries to state to himself. The delay in Arthur’s response causes his heart to sink in his chest.

“He’s lost a lot of blood. The bullet didn’t hit any internal organs but…” Arthur runs a hand over his mouth. “They say that if he wakes up from the anesthesia he’s got a fighting chance. But it’s hard to tell. Until he does.”

If he wakes up. Cold sweat breaks out over his entire body as he fights the nausea that overwhelms him. If he wakes up. You’re going to lose him. And it’s your fault…  

The voices have followed him from the cellar.

“I need to see him,” Tommy says in an attempt to drown them out. Clutching his bandaged chest, he swings his legs over the edge of the bed. Arthur catches him gently by the arms.

“You need to stay in bed.” He tries to guide Tommy back down onto the mattress. “Can’t have you passing out again. You’ve got enough bruises already.”

A vague memory flutters by in his mind: wandering back and forth in the hallway, looking down at his blood soaked hands as he ignored every concerned nurse trying to get him to lie down. The blood is gone now, and his hands are wrapped in gauze. Did he injure them somehow? He can’t remember.  

It's not important

Completely ignoring his older brother’s protests, Tommy gets out of bed on unsteady feet. The second his feet touch the cold stone, he nearly crumples to the floor as the pain makes his vision go white. It’s as if his entire body has been crushed and is held together by just a few remaining tendrils of bone.

Arthur’s arms are around him again, but this time they just hold him upright. Tommy leans into the touch.

“Easy there, Tom. Not really in shape to be walking around, I think. Pretty sure you bashed your head a bit when you fainted.”

“I have to-“

Arthur nods and lets out a defeated sigh. “Sure, sure. I’ll help you.”

They make their way out in the corridor, Arthur supporting almost his entire weight against his side. Tommy tries not to breathe, the expansion of his ribcage is too painful.

“Where’s John?” A blurry image of his younger brother being there in the car floats up from somewhere in the back of his mind. But he disappeared once they reached the hospital. Tommy can’t remember how.

“They had to stitch him back up a bit,” Arthur explains as he leads Tommy down the too bright hallway. “A little scratch on the upper arm.” Tommy’s knees give up for a moment and he bites back a sob in pain as Arthur tightens the grip around his waist to keep him upright. “The bullet went straight through. No bones hit or anything. He’s just supposed to be lying down so he doesn’t rip the stitches.”

This is all your fault.  

He stares down at the floor, focuses all his attention on putting one foot in front of the other until Arthur finally stops by an anonymous looking door.

A nurse comes to meet them just as Arthur is about to reach out for the door handle.

”Only family allowed, I’m afraid,” she says gently, furrowing her brow as she looks Tommy up and down. “What is your relationship with Mister Solomons?”

Tommy sways on his feet, wrapping the free arm around his stomach to keep it from shaking. Her voice seems to come from so far away. And the question catches him off guard

“He’s, he’s…” What is he supposed to say?

How is he supposed to explain, when he knows nothing he says will be good enough for them?

“Who are you?” the nurse wonders, still with that questioning expression on her face. “A friend? Brother?”

“I’m…” There’s nothing he can say. Nothing that will make her understand. It doesn’t count, what they have. Not to the rest of the world. If he dies, you won’t even get to bury him. “No-one,” he finally says, choking out the words. “I’m… no-one.”

Arthur’s arms are strong around him, and his voice is firm as he speaks up.  

“He’s Thomas Shelby, and we’re going in there whether you fucking like it or not. Send the doctor my way if he’s got any objections.”

With that, Arthur leads him past the nurse, and into a room furnished with a single bed, two  chairs, and a small bedside table. A bleak sun is shining in through the window, washing the already indistinct colours out to a light grey.  

Tommy barely recognizes the pale figure lying in the bed. It can’t be Alfie… Alfie, with his constant hand gestures and bright smile and loud voice… who is so full of life that it just seeps into everything around him. The person in the bed can’t be him.

But it is. And it’s Tommy’s fault he’s there.

His knees feel weak, but Arthur holds him upright, carefully helping him limp up to the bed and sit down in the chair next to it. Tommy can’t tear his eyes from Alfie. If he just keeps looking at him… If he just keeps looking at him, Alfie will wake up. He knows that Tommy needs him. He’ll feel it, and wake up.

“Tom, it’s going to be alright.” Arthur crouches down in front of him. “He’ll pull through, the stubborn bastard. And you’ll be back to… giving me gray hair in no time.”

Tommy nods. Because he has to.

Silence fills the room. It’s a loud silence, somehow. Deafening. Tommy listens to Alfie’s almost inaudible breaths, struggling to hear them through the sound of his own heartbeat, and too loud breathing. His own breaths rattle in his chest.  

“I’ll just go check on John,” Arthur tells him. “But I’ll be back in a second.” He gets up, and runs a hand through Tommy’s hair in an uncharacteristically gentle gesture. It somehow makes Tommy realise he must look like an absolute wreck.

Arthur leaves.

Then it’s just him.  

He feels lost. Unsure what to do now. So he just sits there on the chair, staring at Alfie’s unmoving frame.

How could you let this happen?

After several minutes of hesitation, he reaches out to take Alfie’s hand, terrified that he’ll find it cold. It’s not. Not as warm as it usually is either, but still warm. They've removed the rings, and the jewelry is lined up neatly on the nightstand. Picking the rings up, Tommy gently slides them back onto Alfie’s fingers, carefully making sure they are in their normal spots -the wide gold band on his thumb, the one with square shaped plate on his index… One by one. Until it’s Alfie’s hand again. Tommy pulls the chair as close to Alfie’s bedside as possible, clutching the hand like a lifeline. As long as Tommy stays by his side, Alfie can’t die. He’ll wake up. And everything will be okay again.

He just has to stay here.

He does. For the entire day. Hours pass –the passage of time is only apparent because people constantly come to bother him. A nurse comes in several times to see if there’s any change in Alfie’s condition, but there never is. A doctor does the same, writing things on a clipboard as he hums to himself. They try to make him leave the chair, go lie down, eat, drink- all these useless things.

Eventually they all turn to an indistinguishable chorus of voices, meaningless and droning. There are so many voices in his head already, a few more make no difference.

At some point, the nurse puts a tray of food on the nightstand, and Tommy forces himself to drink the water. But he doesn’t touch the food.

Eventually she comes to carry it away.

“You really should be in bed, Mister Shelby.”

He ignores the voice. Partly because he doesn’t know what to say. His throat has closed up completely, making it impossible to speak.

A hand comes to rest on his shoulder, and he flinches at the touch.

“You are severely dehydrated and sleep deprived. And-“

The voice goes on. How can they talk about Tommy when Alfie is just lying in that bed, looking as if he’s moments away from fading way completely?  

When the hand on his shoulder wraps around his upper arm and gently tries to pull him up from the chair, Tommy tears himself loose. Finally giving up, the nurse leaves him alone.

Arthur comes instead, pulling up a chair next to him. Tommy looks at the steady rise and fall of Alfie’s chest. In and out. He’s still alive. Just resting. In and out-

“Hey, Tommy, I know you want to be here with Alfie alright, but you need to rest.”

He doesn’t want them to talk, because then he can’t hear Alfie’s breathing. He clings to that, just the way he clings to the warmth of his hand, to every little sign that he’s still alive -just resting, just resting, and he’ll wake up, and everything will be okay again-  

In and out. Slowly. Everything will be okay.

“You hear me?”

If he just stays silent, Arthur will go away. They will all go away and leave him alone here with Alfie. He tries to breathe in the same rhythm as Alfie, but it’s hard- every breath makes him painfully aware of his broken ribs.

In and out. He’s just resting. Everything will be okay. You just have to stay here…

Finally, Arthur says something about stretching his legs, and disappears from the chair.

...

The sun sets outside the window, and the exhaustion weighs heavily on his shoulders, willing him to rest his head on the mattress for a while. But he resists the urge, sitting up straighter instead.

He’s stayed awake through countless of nights. What’s one more?  

It would be impossible to sleep anyway, with the state his head is in. The guilt is gnawing at his insides, chipping away at him piece by piece. This is his fault. He should’ve seen this coming miles away. Should’ve kept more weapons in the house. Should’ve made sure they moved to a safer location. Should’ve fought back harder-

If he hadn’t gotten caught up in this-

If he’d been quicker, if he’d shot the man earlier, Alfie wouldn’t be lying here.

You can’t do anything right, can you?

How is he going to live with himself if Alfie dies?

The nurse comes in again, placing a new tray of food on the table. Tommy can feel her gaze, but he ignores it.

Arthur returns not long thereafter, and gives the tray a weary look, fingers digging into his eye sockets. “Could you at least tryto eat?” The irritation in his voice is palpable now.

Tommy can’t eat. If he opens his mouth he’s afraid his insides will just decide to start pouring out of it. The mere thought of having to force down food makes his gut churn.

“You’re fucking… wasting away.” With a deep sigh, Arthur slumps down on the chair. “What’s Alfie gonna say, eh? When he wakes up and sees you.”

“He’s not going to wake up,” Tommy says numbly, finally unable to keep the thought away. Blinking in surprise, Arthur stares dumbly at him for a moment.

“Sure he is-“

The anger bubbles up suddenly, red-hot and uncontrollable. No one understands a single fucking thing.

“No, he’s not,” Tommy cuts him off. “He’s going to die- and- and I’ll just have to fucking sit here and watch it happen.” He coughs. “And all you fucking do is pester me about all these useless bloody things-“ The room spins around him when he gets to his feet.  

“Tommy-“ Arthur stands too, and Tommy backs away, trying to put himself out of reach.

“It doesn’t matter. Nothing fucking matters, don’t you see that?” Arthur comes towards him, hands outstretched as if approaching a skittish horse. “Tommy, you need rest. Or it won’t matter if Alfie pulls through or not. Because you sure as hell won’t. Have you seen yourself? You look about one second from keeling over.“

Tommy stumbles backwards until he hits the wall.

“Stop fucking telling me to rest and eat and all this fucking bullshit,” he spits venomously. ”I’ve spent the latest years trying to keep you off the fucking ledge, while you’ve just been spiraling. And now you want to play the big brother?”

Arthur clenches his jaw and swallows. “All I’m asking is that you lie down for a while.”

When Tommy resorts to just shaking his head, Arthur grabs him gently by the shoulders. Tommy pushes him, doing little to budge his larger frame. He hasn’t realized how weak his limbs are until now. But Arthur takes a step back nonetheless.

“Get out.” Tommy pushes him again, ignoring the sharp pain it sends up his arms. “Get the fuck out and leave me alone.” He stares wildly at Arthur.  “Go back to snorting coke and behaving like an unhinged basket-case. You’re better at that.”

A flash of hurt comes across Arthur’s face and he takes another step back.

For a moment, the words hang in the air between them as they stare each other down. Arthur is the one to break the silence.

“Fine, I’ll go. Whatever you say.”

Tommy sways on his feet, chest heaving in frantic breaths as he watches the door slam shut. The air gets caught in his throat, and he begins to cough, clutching the windowsill for support as  the pain shoots like knives through his ribs. White lights dance behind his closed eyelids as he fights to regain his bearings and when the cough finally subsides, he just barely makes it to the chair by Alfie’s bedside  before his knees buckle. He leans forward, head cradled in his hands, and swallows the bile that rises in the back of his throat.

The room seems a lot darker when he straightens up again, and he huddles a bit closer to the side of Alfie’s bed, reaching out to take his hand again.

If he just stays here, everything will be okay. Alfie can’t die while Tommy is sitting here, waiting for him to wake up.

He just has to stay here.

But Alfie looks so pale…

He’s dying. You know that, right? And there’s nothing you can do to change that.

The voices become louder as the night drags on.

You don’t deserve him. That’s why this is happening.

He tries to think of something happy, something that will shine a bit of light in the dark and chase the shadows away, drown out the voices. Alfie is the first thing that comes to his mind: Alfie smiling at him when they’re lying in bed. The safe feeling of his strong arms around Tommy’s back. His mouth right next to Tommy’s ear, whispering hushed reassurances when he needs it the most: ‘You deserve to be loved. Wish I could make you see that.’

You deserve nothing. No, but Alfie said-Alfie is going to die because of you. and you have the gall to believe you deserve him?  

He can see shadows moving in the corners, creeping closer with each passing hour. It’s just like the walls in the cellar. His eyes drift to the door. What if it’s locked? What if he can’t get out? He's overwhelmed by an almost irresistible urge to open it, but ends up just sitting frozen on the chair, alternating between looking at Alfie’s unconscious form and the door. Walking that far through the darkness is impossible…

A white figure appears in the room, and he’s certain it only exists in his head- but then it walks up to the bed and leans over Alfie. Instantly tensing up, Tommy stares wide eyed at it.

“It’s alright, I’m just checking on him,” the figure says and he realises it’s one of the nurses. A different one this time. “Can I get you anything, love? A blanket maybe? You look awfully cold.”

He shakes his head and a soft smile crosses her lips. She has kind eyes.

“Well, I’ll get you one anyway. If you change your mind.” When she leaves the room, she doesn’t close the door fully.

The nurse returns, carrying a blanket and a lamp that burns with a warm, dim light. He can breathe a little easier, suddenly.

“So you don’t have to sit here in the dark,” she explains and places it on the bedside table. “I’ll just leave this here,” she adds and puts the folded blanket on the foot of Alfie’s bed.

Then she leaves.

Tommy can’t bring himself to reach out for the blanket, even though he's forgotten what it feels like, to be warm. But the cold keeps him from falling asleep.

The small lamp has created a tiny pool of yellow light around him. The darkness can’t get to him here.

He stays in that pool of light, watching over Alfie for the rest of the night. Trying to ignore the shadows towering over him. They don’t disappear until the morning sun breaks through the thin, white curtains.

Around him, he vaguely hears the hospital coming to life, filling with distant conversation, footsteps, clattering of trays being carried to the different rooms. Tommy blinks, fighting desperately against his heavy eyelids. The steady rise and fall of Alfie’s chest is still there, no change for the worse. But there’s no change for the better either.

Footsteps are approaching him, but he doesn’t look up to see who it is. It doesn’t matter.

“Mister Shelby, I must insist that you return to your bed-“ He recognizes the voice from the day before. One of the nurses.  

Why won’t they leave him alone?  

“Or I’ll be forced to have you escorted there.”

A hand comes to rest on his shoulder, and he shies away from the touch, tensing up. After a dejected sigh, the voice and the footsteps disappear out the door.

Tommy smooths out a wrinkle in the duvet and lets his hand brush over Alfie’s cheek in passing. He allows himself to linger, tracing the delicate skin under his eye with his thumb. If he tries hard enough, he can almost imagine they’re at home, in their own bed. Alfie is just sleeping peacefully, and any second now he’ll wake up and look at Tommy that way only he can… as if he’s the most precious thing in the entire world. And it’s almost enough to make Tommy believe him for a moment… He’ll smile, say something stupid and sweet that causes Tommy blush and call him a fucking sap, even as he basks in the feeling of being wanted by someone… and by someone like Alfie, who could have his pick of far less dysfunctional people…

His blissful little fantasy is interrupted when two looming figures appear in front of him. Large hands take a firm grip on his upper arms, attempting to lift him out of the chair. It’s two white clad men. The fear surges through him, shocking his body into action and he struggles against them.

“Please calm yourself. You need to rest-“ They try to explain things again. Say that he’s got a concussion, broken bones, is sleep deprived- not thinking clear. Why are they behaving like any of that matters when Alfie is-

As long as Tommy is there by his side, Alfie can’t die. He promised he’d never leave. And now they’re trying to take him away-

Helpless against the strong hands in his weakened state, Tommy finds himself pulled to his feet and dragged away from Alfie’s bed. His heart races in his chest.

They will lock him up somewhere. And he’ll be alone in the dark again. Alone, and cold-

He fights. The piece of glass is gone, and he’s got nothing to defend himself with, but he fights nonetheless, squirming and kicking as best he can with his damaged limbs. When It doesn’t help, he screams, a wordless, desperate cry that rips from his throat. Then finally, the hands lose their grip, and his knees hit the floor. He curls inwards on himself, squeezing his eyes shut as he clasps his arms over his head- making himself small, so small that he becomes nothing and they can’t take him away... can’t hurt him, can’t take him back to the darkness.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Arthur.

“He really must lie down-“

“And you figured this was a good way to get him to do that? Thought you were supposed to be professionals here. Bloody hell, don’t need no fucking schooling to see he’s fucking terrified.  

“Sir-“

“Just get the fuck out of here. Fuck’s sake. I’ve got this.”

He feels the presence of a body next to him.

“Tom, it’s okay, you’re safe. I've got you, alright?” Arthur’s voice is soft and reassuring. Something warm is draped over his shoulders, and he’s enveloped by a familiar scent of rum. “There we go. Got Alfie’s coat cleaned for you.” As Arthur is talking he carefully pries Tommy’s arms away from on his head and guides his hands into the coat sleeves. “Guess you’ll have to stitch that hole up. But Alfie can probably do that… Good at that sort of thing I imagine…

Arthur helps him up, carrying more than leading him back to the chair. Steadier than he’s been in years. Tommy reaches out and takes Alfie’s hand again to keep his own from shaking, before settling back in his chair, sinking deep into the warmth of the coat. He buries his nose in the thick collar and breathes the scent into his nose, wishing it could fill him up completely, replace the fear seeping like icy water through his veins. It smells like Alfie. Like home.

Something scrapes against the floor, and Arthur heaves a sigh as he sits down on the chair, opposite him. But it’s not followed by another comment on how he should get some rest, ore eat… He just silently stays by his side.

Arthur sits with him as another night begins to fall, and the shadows in the room grow longer again. He still doesn’t tell him to sleep. And no one else comes to force him to do it either.

The realisation doesn’t hit him suddenly. It creeps up on him. With each passing hour, he can feel the lump in his throat grow bigger, feel his chest tighten and the hand clenched around his insides hold them a bit harder.

Arthur is snoring in his chair, and the room is dark.

The nurse comes in just briefly, giving them a onceover, before leaving again.

Alfie is going to die. That’s why they’re not bothering him anymore, because they all know, and finally understand how pointless everything else is.

For a moment, Tommy is certain he’s back in that warehouse, his ribcage caving in under the brutal force of steel pounding against it.  

He’s breaking into a thousand pieces.

All the cracks that Alfie spent so much time trying to mend, to make him a little less broken… all those jagged edges he smoothed out so he wouldn’t always hurt anyone who came too close… It’s all for nothing right at that moment. He can feel himself falling apart, piece by piece.

The tears seeping down his cheeks are not accompanied by any sobs. They just silently fall, painting burning hot trails over his cold skin.

Hands still clasped around Alfie’s, Tommy rests his forehead against his knuckles and prays. For a miracle. For just one fucking miracle, even if he doesn’t deserve it. He prayed sometimes in the tunnels, and it should’ve taught him that it’s no use. God doesn’t listen to people like him. But he does it, still, for Alfie.

Alfie deserves a miracle.

Please let him wake up. Please let him be okay. Please don’t take him away from me, because I don’t know what I’m going to do without him. I’ll do anything…

The God he was raised to believe in won’t listen. But maybe Alfie’s God will.

...

The night has faded into another dawn, a grey, rainy one. Tommy raises his head to watch the droplets whip against the windowpane, eyes stinging. A grunt is heard from the chair next to him as Arthur begins to stir. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes and blinking sluggishly a few times, he turns his attention to Tommy, eyes shifting between him and Alfie. His mouth falls open to ask a question, but he apparently figures out the answer before finding the right words.

“Just going to see if John’s allowed out of bed yet,” Arthur says and gets up from the chair, rolling his shoulders. “He might start biting the nurses otherwise.”  

Alone once again, Tommy finds himself unable to fight the weariness weighing down on his shoulders. It’s no use. Before he can make a conscious decision, his body just gives up and slumps forward. He lays his head down on the mattress, closing his eyes to will the nausea away. His muscles refuses to support him any longer, and he remains there.

They’ll have to carry him away when they come to fetch Alfie’s body.

When the hand he’s holding shifts slightly, fingers gripping weakly around his, he is certain he’s imagining it. But he straightens up nonetheless, using some unknown source of strength.

The lack of sleep has finally gotten to him, and now he’s seeing things.

“Alfie?” His voice is raspy from disuse, but he manages to get the word out.

Alfie looks at him through a veil of lashes, mouth twitching under the beard.

“Morning, love. Been waiting here for long?”    

It takes a few unfathomably long seconds before he finally pulls himself out of the stupor. Then he pitches forward and kisses Alfie, cradling his face between his bandaged hands.

The relief flooding his chest is unlike anything he’s felt in his entire life, and the tears come before he can stop them, filling his eyes and seeping down his cheeks. The lips under his are warm and undeniably real and Alfie is alive everything will be okay now…

“I love you,” he breathes out. “God, I love you so much.” It’s all he manages to say. And right at that moment, it’s all he needs to say.

When a choked sob escapes him, Tommy quickly straightens up and wipes the tears away, swallowing down the ones threatening to well his eyes. Alfie shouldn’t have to see him cry the first thing he does.

“Oh, it’s alright sweetheart,” Alfie mutters wearily, looking up at him with soft eyes. “Better to let it out. ”

No. He can’t just fall apart now. Alfie needs him. Biting the inside of his cheek, he takes strained breaths in through his nose until he’s regained his bearings enough to speak.

“How are you feeling?”

“Just peachy.” Alfie grimaces in pain as he shifts slightly on the mattress, eliminating any credibility the words may have had.

“I’ll get a nurse.” Tommy makes a move to stand, ignoring his entire body protesting violently by sending a wave of pain through all his limbs. Alfie tightens the grip around his hand slightly.

“Stay.”

“Just to let them know you’re awake,” he promises. He can feel himself slurring, struggling against his uncooperative tongue. “So they can give you something for the pain.” Alfie lets out sigh, releasing his hand.

The floor is rocking under him as he unsteadily makes his way over to the door, clutching the frame for support as he scans the hallway. Arthur and John are stood a little ways down, and the second they see him, they both come walking in his direction.  

“You look like you should be in the fucking morgue,” John exclaims and earns a sharp elbow in the ribs from Arthur.

“Alfie’s awake,” Tommy says, grasping for words as he ignores this comment.. “Could -“ Fuck, he can’t even string a sentence together. “A nurse. Could you get a nurse?”

“I’m on it,” John states and marches off, while Arthur ushers Tommy back into the room and towards the chair right in time before his legs give up.

“Look at you, you stubborn bastard.” Arthur beams at Alfie, slapping his shoulder and earning a sharp glare from Tommy. “Just knew I wouldn’t get rid of you that easily.” Alfie lets out a quiet chuckle.

“Well, I was standing there by the pearly gates and all, but then I said to myself: who will pester Arthur, then?”

“Easy with the talking.” Tommy brushes a stray hair away from Alfie’s forehead. “You need to rest.”

“But I’ve got several days’ worth of it, love.” Alfie smiles at him. It’s faint, and tired, but it still makes Tommy’s heart swell in his chest. “’Least I think so. How long-“ he makes a pause, taking a pained breath. “How long was I out for?”

Tommy looks to Arthur for an answer. It’s all just been a daze.

“Three days,” Arthur tells him. “Was about time you decided to wake up. I’ve been left to run things all on my own here.”

John enters with a nurse and a doctor in tow. Tommy is pretty sure they’ve both been in there before, but he can’t remember when.

“Solomons! You look like shit, mate,” John exclaims and gives Alfie a bright grin, walking up to the bed. This time, Tommy manages to stop him before any unnecessarily violent slaps of affection are handed out. “And you didn’t even get to hear the shit that went down! Do I have a story for you. Me and Ishmael, we’re hiding behind this crate, right, when we see these blokes, definitely not ours, come in through the back door so we-”

When John is relieved, he rambles. So for a while, the room descends in a rather pleasant kind of chaos, as the doctor tries to ask Alfie questions, Alfie tries to answer them, John talks about the shootout with Changretta’s men, Arthur does the same, and the poor nurse just does her best trying to hush them.

Tommy sits quietly in his chair and watches the whole thing unfold, still caught in some confusing mixture of disbelief and dizzying happiness.

“Well, Mister Solomons. As long as we steer clear of infections, I recon you will be quite alright after a good few weeks of rest-” The doctor puts great emphasis on this as he talks about the recovery process ahead, resting. Tommy needs to remember that.  

The doctor leaves, and after giving a few admonishing comments to both John and Arthur concerning the volume, the nurse states she’ll come back with something to eat, before following suit.

John can’t stop talking, it would seem. On any other occasion, Tommy would tell him to shut up, but he can’t bring himself to do so now.

“Know what, John, think we should leave these two alone,” Arthur finally says and grabs his shoulder. “If I know them right they need to stare longingly into each other’s eyes for at least half an hour now.”

John grins and lets himself be dragged towards the door

“We should call Pol,” he declares. “Give her the absolutely devastating news that she’ll just have to continue putting up you.” And with that, they close the door, and peace settles in the room again  

Tommy runs a hand through Alfie’s hair, noticing the a tension around his eyes

“You sure you don’t want any morphine?”

“Nah…” Alfie mutters. “Like to keep me wits about me. ‘s just a bit of pain.”

Tommy nods tightly.

“Why don’t you lie down for a bit?” Alfie stretches out his arm gingerly in an inviting gesture. “Looks like you could use some rest.” Tommy wants nothing more than to take him up on the offer.  

“What about the-“ the nurses, the doctor, fucking everyone…

“Fuck’em,” Alfie huffs, immediately wincing in pain. “Get in here.”

Tommy carefully climbs into bed next to him, stretching his aching legs out. The pain in his side keeps him from doing anything but lie perfectly still on his back, but he feels the warmth of Alfie’s body next to his, and soon enough, their fingers are laced together under the duvet.

“You okay?” Alfie squeezes his hand. “What sort of things did he do to you, eh? Changretta.”

Tommy keeps his eyes fixed on the duvet.

“I was just locked up somewhere. Nothing to worry about.”

When Alfie opens his mouth to protest, Tommy turns his head to capture his lips in a soft kiss instead.

“We’ll talk when you’re feeling better. Just rest now. You heard the doctor.” He settles his head back onto the pillow. They’re not going to talk about the cellar.  “And then we’re also going to talk about that incredibly stupid fucking plan of yours.”    

For once, Alfie’s stubbornness can’t help him; he resorts to running his thumb over Tommy's knuckles, before closing his eyes and announcing that he’s just going to sleep for a bit.

“You should too, love.”

What Tommy really should do is stay awake and make sure that Alfie wakes up this time-

He’s asleep before he can finish the thought.

...

When Tommy wakes up again, confused but not quite as terrified as the last time, he much to his surprise finds Polly is sitting in the same chair he’s been occupying the past few days. Arthur and John are seated by the opposite wall, engaged in a conversation of unknown nature and at an uncharacteristically reasonable volume.

“What are you doing here?” he rasps out. Polly smiles and reaches out to stroke his cheek.

“Had to look after my boys, didn’t I?” she says. “And not a minute too soon, it would seem. You look awful.”

“Oh, don’t listen to her, love,” Alfie’s voice comes from above him, a fraction stronger than the last time he heard it. He’s sitting leaned against the pillows and looking down at Tommy with a fond smile. “Just a little pale. Some food and another week of sleep and you’ll be as radiant as ever.”

His fingers rake against the nape of Tommy’s neck, and Tommy furrows his brow, still rather confused. Outside the window, the rain has turned into a steady snowfall, and the gray light gives no indication of what hour of the day it is.

“How long have I been sleeping?”  

“Little over a day, the good doctor told me,” Alfie says. “Was out myself for a bit of it too, so I had to check.”

With some help from Polly, Tommy also manages to sit up, and is just about to ask who is taking care of things at home, who’s looking after Finn, when the question answers itself.

“You’re awake!” Finn comes rushing into the room, and Polly just barely manages to stop him from throwing himself over Tommy. Behind him, Ada and Esme appear in the doorway.

“You’re… all here?” Tommy asks dumbly.

“We commandeered a boat!” Ada tells him with a grin. “We figured women and children would just have to step in and make sure you lot didn’t get yourself killed.”

“I’m mostly here for the sights,” Esme shrugs, but the vase of flowers in her arms contradict this statement.

This is all a bit too much to take in, and Tommy can’t quite come up with a response. Luckily he doesn’t have to, because Finn is as usual full of them.

“I’ve been looking after the horses.” He seats himself on the edge of the bed. “They got very scared when I told them you were missing, but now they’re happy again, so don’t worry.” Without hesitation, he digs up Tommy’s bandaged hand from under the cover and very gently takes it between his smaller ones, patting it carefully. “I went to the stables every day. Because horses sense a lot of things, so I figured it was better to just be upfront with them.” Tommy has a feeling this has more to do with Finn than the horses.

“These are for you,” Esme tells Alfie and puts the flowers down on the nightstand.  “Better get back on your feet quickly,” she adds with a rare smile. “I’ve gotten used to having help in the kitchen. Would be a shame if we lost the only decent man in the household. ”

“Recon John can step in,” Alfie gives a pointed look in his direction, and John takes great offence.    

“I’m severely injured!”

“Indoor voices, please,” Polly says sternly, before turning her attention to Alfie. “If you need me to escort this lot out of here, just say the word.”

Alfie sinks a little deeper into the pillows, giving her a dismissive wave. “It’s fine.”

“Well, this is what life in the Shelby family is like.” Ada shakes her head and seats herself on the edge of the bed next to Finn. “Constant chaos. Always. In any situation. No mercy.” She reaches out to pat the general area on the duvet where Alfie’s knee presumably is. “And now you’re stuck with us. Congratulations.

Tommy glances up at Alfie to make sure this virtual storm of impressions isn’t too much. Granted, he still looks quite pale and exhausted, but a smile is hidden behind the beard, and his eyes are bright.

He rests his head lightly on Alfie’s shoulder and hugs the arm close to his chest, twining their fingers together. Alfie gives his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Soon, the family has made themselves comfortable in different spots around and on the bed, filling the room with a chaos only comparable to the one usually reigning over their dinner table. Alfie gives Tommy a piece of bread from the tray on the nightstand with the comment:

“Saved this for you love. Figured you hadn’t eaten in a while.” And curled up against Alfie’s warm body, Tommy manages to eat. Slowly. And only one tiny bite at the time. But still.

Finn is talking constantly. It’s his first time in London, so obviously just the walk to the hospital has given him about a million things to reflect upon. And much like John, he’s incapable of being quiet whenever he’s overcome by some strong emotion.

“And there are so many tall houses? I saw one- one with a clock. There’s a picture of that house my history book in school, but someone has drawn all over it so you can’t see it that well-“

It’s impossible for the Shelby family to be in one room together without trying to all talk at the same time, and despite the welcomed contrast from the last few days’ crippling loneliness, Tommy begins to worry it’s going to tire Alfie out.

“Just tell me if you need to rest,” Tommy whispers softly into his ear, as to not let Finn hear him. “They won’t mind.”  

“Was just about to tell you the same, love,” Alfie answers in the same quiet voice. The rest of the family seem quite unaware of this exchange, currently listening to Finn describe what could be Buckingham palace, or simply any other large building. “I don’t mind.”

Tommy relaxes against his side, the familiar atmosphere enveloping him in blissful safety. He’s still wearing Alfie’s coat, so the cold he thought had permanently settled in his bones has finally melted away. And suddenly, the past days just feel like a distant nightmare. Even the memories from the cellar, the musty air, the darkness, seem far away at that moment. He’s not alone now.

“I recon I could swim across that river!”

“No, Finn!“

Tommy glances down at the bandages covering Alfie’s stomach, and a jolt of guilt twists his gut. He hugs the arm a little tighter and tears his eyes away from the injury, shifting them to Alfie’s face instead, and the happy expression that still lingers under the veil of exhaustion.

“Everything okay?” Alfie mutters into his hair as he kisses the top of his head and Tommy gives what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

Alfie is alive. He’s here with Tommy, and that’s all that matters right now.

“Yeah. Everything’s okay."

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Ohana: Part 4

Pairings: Negan x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fluff

Word Count: 3,483

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

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

After fourteen hours, two slight meltdowns, and learning how to do an amputation on the fly through a text book, you managed to get Chris stable and patched up and get a salve on Mark’s burns. You limped down to your bed room just before dawn, fighting your tears with every step. Your whole body ached as you pushed open your bedroom door as quietly as possible but you hesitated just in the door way.

“Have you been here all night?” You asked Negan as you stepped the rest of the way into your room and closed the door behind you. He looked up from the book he was reading on your bed and nodded as he took off his black rimmed glasses.

“Well I had to learn about Ohana.” He said as he gestured to your TV with his glasses with a chuckle. “And magic carpet rides.” You huffed a laugh as you hobbled over to your dresser and grabbed a clean shirt on your way to the far side of the bed.

“She loves Lilo and Stitch.” You told him as you flopped down on the bed with a giant yawn. “I think she can quote that movie by now. Can you hand me that jar and the tube of lotion from my table?”

“How has she seen it so many times? Here, I got it.” You looked up at him and didn’t even try to fight as he peeled the sleeve off your leg and tossed it on the bed by his knees. You weakly pointed to the areas that needed the Icy Hot and leaned back against your headboard.

“Millions. I was one of those wack job, dooms-day preppers after I came home from Iraq. Built an underground bunker in my back yard, had enough food and water for me and my sister’s family, had solar panels in the back and a rain collection system… would’a lasted the four of us at least a year and a half.” You shook your head as you sat up a bit and pulled off your old shirt. “That’s the reason I got Brenna. I was babysitting when the final announcement went out; that Atlanta was shutting down and the military was stepping in. I knew that meant nothing good. So I packed up everything I could grab from my house, called and left messages with Sarah, and headed to the bunker with Brenna.” Tears welled in your eyes as Negan’s strong fingers worked magic on your sore stump.

“Brenna and I were down there for four years, five months, and 11 days before we ran out of food. And since I was unable to get any sort of radio station to come through and the news still wasn’t back up, I slipped into survival mode. I packed up some clothes and anything else I could carry, grabbed my motorcycle from my garage and stole my neighbors side car and hit the road with a four year old. I had no fucking idea what I was expecting but it damn sure wasn’t what I saw. Figured it would be like an apocalypse where everyone was just gone.” You rolled your head toward him on the headboard and shook your head.

“If I had known how bad it was I would have never left that bunker. I would have left Brenna in there and figured out a way to grow crops or searched my neighbors houses for food or figured out something down there to survive. I was fucking blindsided when we left my neighborhood but I just kept going. I showed no fear so my child would be strong and I just kept moving. I planned on trying to get back to my house but shit just kept happening. 

I was finally in a place that heading back seemed like it was finally a possibility. I had found those seeds you got in a gardening store and I knew I had planters in my garage but then my leg broke. My back up was always shitty so I figured I’d get to the prosthetics office to get the one I was supposed to get before the fall but then I found you. And this is the safest I’ve felt since I was in my bunker. And words could never be enough to thank you for that.” Negan smiled as he leaned back beside you with a small smile.

“It was my fucking pleasure, baby girl.” You both looked over at Brenna, who had herself curled into Negan’s other side on your pillow, when she stirred in her sleep. When she didn’t wake up, you yawned and stood up awkwardly to take off your dry blood covered jean shorts. “Does she know?” You looked up at him through your lashes, noticing that he was purposely being respectful and looking away from you at Brenna.

“No. She doesn’t.” You hopped once to get yourself closer to the bed and climbed onto the queen sized bed under your blankets with a big yawn. “She was only a couple months old when we went into the bunker and when Sarah never showed up… well I just took the easy way out on that one. She knows I had a sister but not that she was her birth mom.” He nodded as he pulled up his knees and got under the blankets beside you so you had more blanket as you laid down on Brenna’s pillow. “And now… I don’t know what I’d tell her.”

“If you want help figuring it out, I can help you.” A smile spread across your face as you subconsciously scooted closer to Negan’s warmth.

“Look at you. You said an entire sentence without saying fuck.” He chuckled as he grabbed his glasses.

“Shut the fuck up.” You let out a hummed laugh as you made yourself comfortable.

“Wake me up in an hour so I can check on the dumbass.”

“Sure thing, doc. Sweet dreams.” With a hum in response, you shifted so your forehead was just brushing Negan’s hip and passed out.

——

“Alright Mark. You’re all set for right now.” You said as you taped the last piece of gauze into place. You sat back and looked at him with tired eyes and a weak smile. “Now, consider this your breakfast change. I need you to come down to see me after every meal until I say other wise. Don’t touch your face and do your best to keep the bandage clean so you don’t get an infection. It could go straight to your brain and that’s just… not what we want.” Mark chuckled and nodded at you as you handed him a small cup with one Tylenol with Codeine and a regular Tylenol. “Try not to sleep on it, too. You could pull off the new skin trying to form and we don’t want that either. And if you have questions or need anything, come find me, OK?” He nodded his head as he got up off the exam table.

“Thanks a lot, doc.” You nodded at him once as you grabbed your tablet to update his chart and document the medications you gave him and treatment you used so he could pay for them with his points. You made a side note on a piece of paper to give to Negan before setting both aside to finally check on Chris. He was still asleep when you came back from your nap and you hoped for his sake, he stayed like that as you changed his bandages.

“Jesus, kid. You had one fucking job, man.” You mumbled as you carefully pulled off the tape and gauze. You set them both aside and turned your back for only a moment before all hell broke loose.

“My arm. What happened to my arm!” Chris screamed as you spun on your chair back toward him. Panic filled your soul as the kid started thrashing in pain.

“Hey whoa! Chris, calm down for me!” You screamed as you jumped to your feet… well, your left foot at least. “Hey stop!”

“My arm!” He screamed as he bashed the stump against the bedrail, easily ripping the stitches out like a knife through warm butter. Blood started gushing from his ripped open arteries, spraying you and the room with every beat of his heart. You scrambled to grab something, anything to use as a tourniquet but you couldn’t do that and stop Chris from thrashing at the same time.

“I need help in here!” You screamed as the heart rate monitor you had taken from the cancer hospital went wild above your head. You screamed, wondering why the hell his arteries and veins hadn’t curled into themselves for self preservation when the heart rate monitor flat lined.

“No! Kid, stay with me!” You screamed as you hopped one step over to start CPR but your foot slipped in the pool of blood on the floor. You hit the floor with a loud grunt and you instantly scrambled to try to get back up again. “Chris! Chris! Stay with me!” You screamed as you watched the pale limb sputter to just a drip. You swore loudly and punched the metal side of the hospital bed as all the fight to save the kid left you. You knew that even with a blood bank that you didn’t have, there was no chance for this kid to come back.

“Damn you kid!” You burst into tears and leaned your back against the exam table. You ran your hands through your blood soaked hair and sighed as you looked back up at the kid on your bed. Your eyes started to slip out of focus as you tried to figure out just how you could have gone about this differently and that was exactly how Negan and Brenna found you when they came to get you for breakfast forty-five minutes later.

“Mommy! We have apples…” You slowly glanced up just in time to see Negan yank your daughter backwards and pick her up.

“Hey, I need you to sit out here and wait for me, princess. I gotta talk to mommy.” You couldn’t hear Brenna’s response as you looked back at Chris’ pale body. “What the fuck happened?” You looked back at Negan and shook your head as he closed and locked the door behind him.

“He panicked. Negan, I tried but he wouldn’t stop thrashing and I slipped…” You burst into tears and Negan walked across the room to the bed as he pulled out his knife.

“You gotta get the damn brain.” He said as he plunged the blade into the boy’s skull. “They’ll fucking turn otherwise.” You nodded at him as he came over and pulled you into his arms. 

“I’m sorry!” You sobbed as he held your face into his shoulder and ran his fingers through your hair.

“Hey, no. You did exactly what you were fucking supposed to. That’s his mother fucking fault.” You nodded weakly and exhaustion finally started to kick in as the adrenalin wore off. You looked over at the sound of his crackling walkie. “Simon, I need you in the clinic immediately. Bring Frankie or Sherry with you.”

“I must of cut it at an angle.” You said to yourself as you looked at Chris’ lifeless body. “They should have rolled…” You shook your head as you pulled yourself out of Negan’s arms and went to wipe your tears away only to smear blood across your cheek. Negan huffed as he pulled off his ever present red scarf and used it to wipe off your face.

“Don’t you fucking dare blame yourself, baby girl. That kid knew the fucking risks and he fucking knew you were helping him. You did everything you fucking should have.” You nodded as someone knocked on the door. “Let me get Brenna settled then we’ll get you in the fucking shower so Simon’s boys can get this place cleaned the fuck up. You look like you were in a damn horror movie.”

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

“Mommy? Why’s it still raining?” Brenna asked as she stood on your desk chair so she could look out the small window in your room a little over two months after you had gotten to the Sanctuary. You glanced up from the general surgery book you were currently studying and shrugged your shoulders.

“Because the clouds have a lot of rain in them, sweetheart. That rain has to go somewhere, doesn’t it?” You smiled at her little huff as she rested her chin on her folded arms on the window sill.

“Why can’t it go somewhere else?” She grumbled as she watched the rain beat against the windows in the grey afternoon sky. You laughed and looked back at your book to do your best to memorize how to do an appendectomy just in case. You were only able to see for a few more seconds before a large flash of lightening illuminated the room and caused the lights in your room to shut off.

“Brenna stay still! Don’t move! Don’t wiggle, I’m coming!” You shouted as you threw your book on the bed next to you. You grabbed your prosthetic and threw it on with no sleeve as Brenna started to cry because of the fear in your voice. You could barely see in the darkened room as you stood up from the bed and took a step toward the door only to get plowed over as someone rushed into the room.

“Fuck! Sorry…” Negan said as you landed hard on your hip on the thankfully carpeted floor.

“Get Brenna. She’s on a chair by the window.” Your daughter whined for him through her tears as he carefully meandered around the obstacles of books and clothes on the floor that Brenna always threw all over the place no matter how many times you picked them up.

“Come here, princess. I gotcha.” You pulled off your prosthetic so you could put the sleeve on first when your room was illuminated by the light of a flashlight.

“What the hell happened?” You asked as Simon came in to help Negan get you up off the floor.

“Lightning hit the fucking solar panels. We were heading to check out the fucking damage and we heard you yell.” You sighed and nodded as the two men helped you jump over to the bed.

“Bad- word- ‘egan.” Brenna sniffled as she climbed out of Negan’s arms and into yours.

“Yea, sorry princess. That’s a bad word.” You saw Simon give Negan a sideways glance as the latter stood up straight. “Stay on the bed. I’ll grab the lantern from the clinic. So far its just this part of the building and there aren’t much of us over here.” You nodded at him and cradled Brenna close as he snatched the flashlight from Simon and the clinic keys from the bedside table. As you ran your fingers through your baby girl’s hair, you could hear Negan’s rushed footsteps mingled in with the storm raging outside. You carefully scooted back on the bed to lean against the headboard as Negan came back in with the bright, battery powered back up lantern from the clinic.

“Let me know what happens with the panels?” You asked as he set the lantern down on the bedside table. He nodded as he leaned down and gently kissed Brenna’s forehead.

“You got it. Just stay still for me.” You nodded at him as he turned on his heel and gestured for Simon to follow him. 

——

You were sitting by the window, watching the rain pound against the glass since you couldn’t see much of anything else in the dark, night sky including the stars. You had forgotten how peaceful storms could be and as you sat there, you had to actually think about the last time you had seen a storm like this. It had to have been at least five years. A gentle knocking on your door caused you to turn in your chair.

“It’s open.” You said loud enough for whoever was seeking entrance to hear but not loud enough to wake up Brenna. You smiled as Negan stuck his head in the door and looked for you on the bed with a flashlight. “Window.�� He smirked as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

“Thought I told your ass to stay on the fucking bed.” You nodded at him as you leaned your arm on the window frame.

“I wanted to watch the rain.” He nodded as he turned on the lantern on the table and shut off the flashlight. “It’s so peaceful, don’t you… hey, what are you going?” He smirked again as he pulled out a small pile of sleep clothes from under your bed. 

“Brenna and I have fucking slumber parties when you’re at fucking work. Shut up.” You giggled as you turned around to look out the window so he had some privacy to change out of his soaking wet clothes.

“So what happened with the solar panels?” You inquired as you watched a small bolt of lightening light up the sky. You heard your guest sigh as he tossed his wet clothes toward your bathroom.

“We lost fucking two of them. Fried to shit. But two out of fucking thirty ain’t that fucking bad.” You startled a bit as he came over and gently touched your right thigh to get your attention. “Get up.” You nodded as you got up and he took the chair. “We spent the rest of the fucking day covering that shit up with fucking tarps.” You whistled as he put his hands on your hips and pulled you back down onto his thighs. “It’s just another fucking pain in the ass for me to have to move people around to give them power…”

“You know we can get more solar panels, right?” You asked as you situated yourself comfortably on his lap so you were looking out the window. “I have eight of them at my old house in the garage. I doubt they were something that got raided in the past year.”

“Well fuck me, sweetheart. You continue to became the most valuable person in this fucking place.” You smiled and leaned into his chest as he put his hand on your hip. The two of you sat and watched the rain for a few minutes before you huffed a laugh.

“Do you know this is the first time you’re having a real sleep over with me, too.” You felt Negan’s chuckle against your shoulder as he wrapped his other arm around your middle and laced his fingers together on your hip.

“I like your fucking company. So much more enlightening than the time I spend with my fucking wives. Plus, Brenna calls me the fucking King. And my fucking ego loves that shit.” You couldn’t help put giggle as you poked his stomach and laid your head on his shoulder.

“Let the record show I am absolutely not joining you and your sister wives, thank you.” You could almost hear his eyes roll as he tightened his arms around you.

“I honestly wouldn’t fucking want you too. Those bitches are with me because of what I can fucking give them. You spend time with me because you actually fucking want to. Big fucking difference.” You nodded against his shoulder as you both watched a flash of lightening streak across the sky. You both jumped a bit as a loud clap of thunder rattled the windows violently.

“Mommy!” You pulled yourself from Negan’s arms and he instantly lifted you up and carried you over to the bed.

“Hey, it’s OK, sweetheart.” You soothed as you got into bed and pulled Brenna into your arms. “Did the thunder scare you?” She nodded against your chest as Negan got into bed behind her.

“You know what my mom used to tell me?” He asked as he pulled up the blankets over the three of you. Brenna shook her head as she rolled onto her back and looked over at him. He smiled down at her as he propped his head up on his hand. “She told me that the reason we had thunder was because the angels in heaven were bowling. So, when you get really, really scared, just remember that your Aunt Sarah and Uncle Mike are up in heaven bowling, OK?” She nodded as she gripped the blanket tight and held it up to her chin. Negan smirked and reached out to boop her nose as you tucked her Stitch stuffed animal beside her. 

“How ‘bout Negan and I stay here all night to protect you?” You asked as you laid down on the pillow next to her. 

“Like Ohana?” You glanced up at Negan, who didn’t hesitate with his nod.

“Yea, princess. Like Ohana.”

Part 5

[korra-the-red-lion]

Unnatural Affairs. Chapter 4: Friends and Unfriendlies.

(Ally)

I know I was probably overthinking things a little, but I really wanted to look nice for this lunch. It was just a nice lunch between two friends. But yeah, I wanted to look nice. Okay, maybe I’m rambling a little.

I applied my mascara carefully, making sure that it wasn’t clumpy. I grabbed my usual pair of glass and put them on delicately. I stepped back and smiled. I liked the way my hair half up half down looked, and my small amount of make-up was on point. I was wearing a cute black skirt and a lavender button up tucked in and the sleeves rolled up. I grabbed my shoes and slipped them on.

“Jeez, going on a date, Al?” Sarah asked teasingly.

“No, of course not!” I did a twirl for her. “I’m just meeting up with a friend, that’s all.”

Sarah laughed. “Okay, well, now I’m like, scared to see how you get ready for a date. Because like girl, you look amazing!”

I blushed with a grin. “Thanks Sarah! I better head out now!”

I’m not sure why my heart felt so light and full today, but maybe it really was because Lyn wanted to meet up for lunch. Maybe because when she walked with me to class yesterday, she never once asked about my panic attack. I know that sounds ridiculous, but when you get so many people asking about it, it just gets extremely frustrating. Like yeah, it happened. So what? My anxiety isn’t my defining trait.

I hummed along to Jolene as I walked across campus, heading towards the big tree. Lyn texted me last night and said that’s where we would meet up. It was easily found because it was right smack in the middle of campus. I got there rather quickly, feeling the nervous energy coursing through my body.

I pulled out my phone to make sure I wasn’t late. If anything, I was a little early. I slipped it back into my purse and bounced on my feet as I waited. Summer was giving its last dying gasps as the days passed by. It was still pleasantly warm out today. I loved this time of year. It felt comforting and romantic. As the breeze changed into autumn air yet maintain the warmth of summer, it made me feel happy things.

Closing my eyes, I let my senses take over. It was warm on my skin, the breeze refreshing. The music played in my ears, causing me to tap my foot in rhythm to the song. It all felt fantastic…until I felt the chill.

My eyes snapped open. I slowly pulled out my earbuds, knowing that my music was clearly going to be the end of me. I didn’t see anything, but I could feel something. Something cold, uninviting, ominous. But where was it? I ended up doing a full turn around, still not being able to see anything. It was starting to get to me. Sweat beaded against my forehead and I could feel that catching sensation in my chest.

“Ally?”

The sensation left me. I could feel the tension subsiding from my body as I made eye contact with Lyn’s electric blue eyes. They showed some concern as she reached over, her hand hovering over my shoulder.

“Ally? Are you okay? You look like you saw a ghost or something…”

Yeah, a ghost or something, I thought darkly. Instead, I shook my head. “I’m okay! Just thought I heard something.”

Lyn’s face gave nothing away, but I had a sneaking suspicion she didn’t quite believe that. But she didn’t push any further, instead shrugging it off. “I mean, probably yeah. Ready to go?”

I nodded and we walked together. Today she was wearing her hair in a loose ponytail, a sports ballcap placed firmly on her head. She was also wearing some band t-shirt and ripped skinny jeans, with a pair of tattered black Converse. I couldn’t help but let out a small giggle.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, giving me a side eye.

“I was just thinking that we made such a contrasting pair,” I said, giggling again.

Lyn looked down at what she was wearing, then looked over to me. She smirked and laughed too. “Yeah, you’re right. A punk and a princess, you know?”

She led me down away from the university and took us on the path that went into town. I actually haven’t been this way yet. I made a small trip with my parents, but this was the first time I was going without them. The town was pretty, with small coffee shops and other types of stores lining up the street. It was quaint.

We went into a little sandwich and soup shop. Lyn took her hat off seemingly out of habit once we were seated and placed it on the back of the chair. I didn’t notice it earlier, since I was busy dealing with whatever it was I was dealing with, but she looked tired today. Not the usual ‘oh I didn’t sleep well’ tired, but more like the ‘oh something is bothering me, and I don’t know what to do about it’ tired. That was the kind I was most used to.

“’kay, spill!” she said, leaning forwards and cupping her chin and mouth in her hand. “I wanna hear about your week.”

I told her all about my classes and some of the other silly stuff that happened, like how one of the guys in the residence threw a toilet seat out the window on the first day. I was explaining how my English class had tutorials and that our groups were going to be chosen by next week when our food arrived. Lyn waved at me to continue, not taking her eyes off of me. So, I did, enjoying myself. It was never easy to talk like this back home, because everyone knew me as the creepy ghost kid, but here it was different. Lyn didn’t know that about me, and I was glad for that.

Finally, I ran out of things to say. I grabbed my sandwich and took a bite out of the corner, surprised at how good it tasted. Lyn must have seen it in my face because she sat up with a grin.

“Nice, I was hoping you’d like it. These are some of the best sandwiches I’ve ever had,” she said, reaching for her own. “Lydia here owns the store, and she’s going to school as a mature student. She’s seriously one of the coolest people I’ve met.”

“They’re so good!”

“We’ll have to let her know she’s gonna have a new regular, yeah?”

I nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, totally! I’ll have to let Sarah know about this too, if she doesn’t already.”

Lyn smiled at me. Not the usual grin or smirk, but something softer. “I’m glad you like it.”

I’m not sure why, but I could feel the heat rising to my face. If I didn’t get this blushing thing under control soon, she was going to think I had some sort of condition or something. Well, trying to keep some of my dignity intact, I smiled back and just hoped it wasn’t too noticeable.

“Actually, now it’s my turn for questions,” I said.

“Shoot.”

“Okay, why do you look so tired today? Is something bothering you?”

Lyn leaned back, her hand absently drifting towards her ear. “Hmm, kinda. But like, nothing I wanna bother you with, you know?”

“No, please do! I want to know.”

She turned her head slightly, her eyes down casted towards the ground. “Do you believe in rumours?”

The way she asked me suggested that there was more to that question. I shrugged and said, “I guess it depends on what the rumours are?”

Sighing, she pulled out her phone and tapped at the screen for a few seconds, before handing it to me so I could read what she pulled up.

CURSED! Women’s Locker Room Haunted by Spirits or Something Worse?

According to our sources, there was an incident in the women’s locker room last night, some time around 7:30pm. The incident was not a usual peeping tom, like one would assume. Our reports tell us that the women’s swim team had to be escorted out by security due to the presence of HUMAN BLOOD in the water. While team members declined to give us any information, 3rd year Biochem Major Janna Kawada, a member of the women’s soccer team, had this to say: “I was changing out of my uniform when I heard a bunch of screams coming from the shower. I figured they were just pranking the rookies, but when I went over to see what was going on, all the girls were covered in blood.”

So, what is this all about? Was it just a harmless prank after all, or something much more sinister?

                                                                                                By Anna Kerswoki.

“Whoa…” I handed the phone back to her. “I-is that true, though?”

“What? The hauntings or the blood shower?” Lyn asked, a trace of bitterness in her tone. “Because yeah, we got soaked by a disgusting amount of blood, or whatever the fuck that was.”

“That’s so messed up,” I said, my nose scrunching up in disgust.

Lyn nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yup. Now Kerswoki has these rumours spreading that we’re somehow cursed, which is just utterly ridiculous. I mean like…it has to be a prank, right?”

The way she looked at me was as if she was begging for someone to give her an answer that made sense. Unfortunately, I couldn’t be that person. Since being here, I already spoke to one ghost and most definitely sensed another one earlier today. There was a strong spiritual presence at the school, maybe even this whole town.

When I didn’t answer, Lyn looked down in disappointment. She tugged at her ear and said quietly, “I looked into it last night, Ally. I found a couple of old articles saying that similar things have happened here before. But it doesn’t make sense to me. Maybe I should just drop it, but I got this pit in my stomach that’s telling me that this might happen again, you know?”

“But… even if it was true, is there anything you could do about it, Lyn?” I asked, biting my lip.

She shook her head. “Probably not. Still, can’t help but feel helpless by the whole thing. If someone did do this, I hope they get caught.” She sighed deeply through her nose, giving her head another small shake. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring the whole mood down.”

“That’s okay, I’m glad you could get that off your chest,” I said. “Do you…do you wanna keep talking about it? Or talk about something else?”

“Let’s talk about something else, yeah?”

“Okay.”

Even though the conversation had been redirected, I couldn’t get my mind off the other one. Maybe I should go a take a look myself? Just to make sure, that’s all. I just wanted the women to feel safe here, and if I could do that for them, wasn’t that the right thing to do?

XXX

Going back to the giant tree in the middle of the campus where I felt an undeniable ominous presence was surprisingly not the worst idea I’ve ever had.

But after what Lyn had told me, and meeting Bookstore Ghost, I knew I had to do something. Maybe I was the only person on this whole campus who could see and speak with the spirits. If that was the case, I felt like I had some moral obligation to at least investigate what I could.

I walked by a group of students who were heading to the bar or some party, as they were all dressed up and already a little tipsy, from the sounds of things. I pulled my hood up, not wanting to draw attention to myself. I was already really nervous about doing this, and the last thing I need is some drunk people noticing me.

I broke out in a cold sweat as I approached the tree. Luckily, there was no one around. Just me and the super creepy tree. Another surprise, this wasn’t the worst date I’ve ever been on either. Unless I die, then it for sure takes the number one spot.

The leaves rustled as the wind picked up for a second. My heart was beating loudly in my ears and my hands felt strangely cold as I placed them on the bark, feeling the roughness underneath my fingertips and palms. I closed my eyes, trying to sense anything at all. The wind was getting stronger all of a sudden, and the smell of copper filled my nose as I took a deep breath. I opened my eyes with a gasp as I felt my hands being sucked into the tree, and frantically tried to pull my hands away.

I fell back on my butt with a gracious oophm. The wind stopped suddenly, and there were no sounds on the campus. Not even the sounds of students going out for fun. I tried to stand up, but my legs were trembling too much to take my weight, so I ended up falling down again.

“So, you could sense me earlier,” said a voice in my ear.

I clapped my hands over my mouth to keep myself from screaming out. Slowly, I looked over my shoulder.

Standing there was a ghost, obviously. Except unlike the last one I saw, she was a lot more…transparent? Fuzzy? It was like I was looking at her without my glasses on. There was a darker spot on the front her dress, I think. Whenever I tried to take in details, they got even more blurry.

She walked- floated? -around me, her eyes never leaving me. “I wasn’t sure, to be frank. It was possible you were just some anxious child, but the way you were looking around earlier suggested to me that you were feeling something at least.”

“I-” my voice cracked, and I swallowed heavily and tried again, “I did. I could feel the chill you brought, but I couldn’t see you.”

She lifted her chin slightly, looking down at me. “Interesting. It’s been a long time since a human spoke to me. I do have to ask…why did you return? Most sensible people would not come back to the spot that caused them fear.”

I pushed myself up, even though my legs were still shaky. “Something happened in the locker room, the women’s locker room, the other day. The showers…they ran with something other than water. I saw the ghost in the bookstore, and I sensed you, so I figured that asking someone who might know something was my best bet.”

Although the look on her face was hard to determine, it looked something close to curiosity. “What happened?”

Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I explained everything to her. Bookstore Ghost, the showers running with blood, and even the old articles Lyn mentioned to me (that I looked up as soon as I got back to my room). I have to admit, she was a good listener. She never once interrupted me. Instead, she tilted her head in an intrigued manner and tapped a finger against the side of her face.

“My oh my, quite a story you have there. It does remind me of something; however, I am unsure they are at all connected. Perhaps another spirit just making their presence known?”

I frowned. She was keeping something from me, I could tell. But there was also no point in pushing her any further. If a ghost didn’t feel like sharing at that time, they weren’t going to. I rubbed my hands over my face in exhaustion and asked, “Do you have any idea who it could be?”

The way she smiled- or at least I think she smiled- at me was aggravating. “Whom? Well, quite possibly. However, where is the fun in that, dear? I would suggest to you that you dig into some of the archives of the school. Maybe if you come back tomorrow, I might tell you more. Or,” she flickered and took a step back, disappearing into the tree, “you could drop it, as it most likely does not concern you.”

Like that, she as gone. The breeze came back, gently rustling the leave once more. The constricting feeling I wasn’t even aware of left my chest, letting me take in a full breath. I took a couple of steps away from the tree, looking around. It seems like she was completely gone now.

Okay, that really didn’t answer any of my questions. To be honest, it just gave me more if anything. First of all, there were maybe three ghosts on this campus. Bookstore Ghost, Tree Ghost, and potentially a ghost in the women’s locker room. Why were there that many in the first place? A spirit was usually tethered to a place if they had any connection to it, good or bad. I know that something happened to BSG, since he rudely showed me. The darkness on Tree Ghost suggested to me that something bad happened to her as all.

I bit my lip, deep in thought. I know I should drop it now…but something about this whole thing wasn’t sitting well with me. The last time I saw more than one ghost in an area was because it was a cold case scene. Three girls had been brutally murdered, and they never did find the murderer. If there were potentially three here, and maybe even more…

I don’t think I ran home any faster than I did tonight.

XXX

Like a true coward, I didn’t go back yesterday. I couldn’t get it out of my head that those poor people got murdered. I don’t even know how long ago it was, but still. The whole thing just creeped me out.

Sighing, I pushed the door open to my classroom, where my English tutorial was being held. I guess we just get broken up into smaller groups so we could have open discussion about the readings assigned that week and talk about any details we noticed.

The TA assigned to this group looked up with a smile and told me to sit in whichever chair. They were set up in a circle, so we could see who was chatting. How cozy.

I took a seat next to guy with undercut. He had deep brown eyes, with a scar cutting through his eyebrow. He nodded at me with a small smile as I did, and I returned in kind.

Slowly the others drifted into the room, and once all the seats were taken, the TA hopped up to sit on the desk.

“Hey, everyone! So, my name is Penny Kosher, a 3rd year English student and I’m your TA for the tutorials, and of course, if you need any help in the class,” she said cheerfully. “In front of you is a sticky name tag. I’d like it if you wrote down your preferred name and pronouns. And if you don’t respect those two things, I’ll personally crack your skull over my knee.”

I decided I liked Penny Kosher.

I quickly wrote down ‘Ally, she/her’ on my name tag and placed it carefully on my shirt. I waited until the others did the same, curious to see who everyone was. I think I’ll like this more than the big class, because you’ll get to have really great conversations. Or, on the flip side, I might hate if all of these people were annoying.

Once people were finished, Penny picked up the assigned reading, The Death of Superman. “Okay, here we have a very famous comic book. If you didn’t know about it before, I’m sure you do now because you definitely all did the reading and took notes.”

People laughed, me included. Penny’s eyes twinkled as she smiled. “Yeah, I was a 1st year once. So, we actually aren’t going to go into too much detail today, since it is your second week, and this was only just assigned to you. Let’s just get some general conversation going and see what happens.”

“I really thought the scene of Lois holding Superman’s body was really powerful,” said Mags, whose name tag read they/them on it.

“Yeah! I thought it was cool too, because Superman is always portrayed as this all powerful being but seeing him defeated and covered in blood was just, whoa,” said the guy next to me, Michael. His name tag did read he/him.

I nodded, trying to recall everything I read. “I thought so too. I felt like the team was really trying to tell us that even the most invincible of people have a way to lose. I guess no one is truly as unbeatable as they think, not that I think Clark thought that way.”

Penny let us all talk about whatever, sometimes gently redirecting the conversation if it went slightly off track. All in all, it was a great class.

As we were walking out, I tapped Mags on the shoulder. “I really like your jacket, by the way.”

Mags tugged on the bomber jacket that had a cool tree design with a bit of awkwardness. “Oh, really? Well…uh, thanks.”

I smiled and said goodbye to them, walking out into the pouring rain. Crap. It wasn’t raining when I came to class. Curse Canadian weather and its unpredictable nature. I was just about to sprint to my next class with my bag protecting me when someone opened an umbrella over me.

“Thought we could share?” said Michael, a question in his tone. “I think we’re heading the same direction anyway.”

“Oh, thank you!” I said thankfully.

Together we squeezed under his umbrella and walked slowly across campus. Maybe we both had intro to Psych together and I didn’t really notice before now. As we walked by the tree, I couldn’t help but shudder involuntarily.

Michael raised an eyebrow at me. “You don’t like the tree either?”

Either? I looked up at him, frowning. “You don’t like it?”

He shook his head. “It gave me huge ‘stay away’ vibes the other day. The energy about the whole thing is just off. It’s not the first time I felt something nasty like that, but yeah, don’t like the spooky tree.”

I sighed in relief. “I’m glad I’m not the only one. I get the heebie jeebies when I’m near it.” Of course, that might have something to do with the fact that I know there is a ghost residing inside of it, and I don’t know what to think about her.

“Yea’, my mom did not want me coming to this school, she thought it was too dangerous. But my dad told her those were just silly rumours and that I should be allowed to go to whatever school I wanted,” said Michael. He squinted in the direction of the tree. “’Course, my mom might have had a point after all.”

I decided to test the waters a little. “Have you been to the bookstore yet?”

Michael glanced down at me, confirming my suspicions. “You felt it too, huh?”

I nodded as I held the door open for him. “I felt it so bad I had a panic attack in the middle of buying my books.”

“Yeesh, sorry to hear that,” he said. “Guess we have a little more than just the normal student body here at this school, huh?”

“I guess so.”

I headed towards my psych classroom, Michael following behind me. We ended up sitting next to each other and exchanged numbers. It was exciting not only to find someone else to be friends with, but also know that there are other people who can at sense what I can daily. It was a nice feeling to not be alone for once.

XXX

I sat outside, hanging out near what is known as the Swan Pond. It was a little pond that sat in the middle of this nice grassy area where a lot of students sat outside to study or hang out with friends. Except there were no swans, so I’m not sure where the name even came from. Maybe swans used to be here.

It’s been a week since I spoke to the ghost in the tree. I decided that I wasn’t going to look into it any further. After a couple of sleepless nights, I came to the conclusion that maybe it was for the best to not stick my nose into things. There had been no more incidents after the ‘Blood Showers’, so most people chalked it up to a stupid horrible prank. I didn’t entirely agree with that, but I’m trying my best to just stay away from it all.

Of course, that didn’t mean it stay away from me.

I could feel the chilling pull of the tree each time I walked by it. Whenever I went to the student centre, I could feel the pulsing anger coming from the bookstore. Hell, I went to my Intro to Anthropology class and was 99% certain the professor was a demonic witch. Or maybe she was just bitchy, but I felt justified in my feelings after she threw an eraser at a student who fell asleep in her class.

I groaned quietly, squinting up at the sky. What was it about me that drew attention from unnatural creatures? I thought I was a pretty average person, overall. There was nothing outstanding about my appearance, my grades, or even my personality. The most interesting fact about myself was that I was double jointed, and that hardly counted as an interesting fact.

If there was a God, then this must be her idea of some pretty sick joke. Did she look down as I was being born and thought wouldn’t it be funny if I made it so Alexandra Patricia Holland could see dead people? Because if that was the case, I definitely am glad I stopped going to Church when I was 13.

Shaking my head, I picked up my notebook and focused on studying for my upcoming quiz in English. Being a new student was enough drama without the added supernatural theatrics too.

[changspain]

Decathlon and Swimming

Sadly, I was awakened at about 5am. Not by a soundtrack to some amateur porn but to a soaking wet tent roof that had caved in due to the rain and was sodden from condensation[1]. I opened all the doors, reconstructed the poles and woke up to Luke standing over me. JUGB and Ivy had gone off early in the morning to do a multi-pitch climb (a high one) and would be back around lunchtime. It was already 11am but I hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in 4 days and I felt no shame despite the disappointed looks of an elderly Spanish couple as I wandered round the campsite in my pink boxers well into the day. I snacked on some leftover tortilla with bravas sauce[2], something that we bought on a whim but became a staple part of all our diets throughout the entire trip. I leaned against a tree and planned my day. I had two main missions: swim and buy a stove – it wasn’t the most taxing of days. Yesterday we had researched that a shop in Lleida definitely stocked a camp stove a well as some other essentials we needed and was about a 30 minute drive. In comparison, a swim consisted of sitting in some water with less clothing on so the quadratic equations to figure that out could wait. JUGB and Ivy returned absolutely beaming and showed us unbelievable pictures of the same valley as the day before but from an extra 200m elevation. I knew that JUGB was handy at climbing but this was only academic until I saw the climb he led that morning and was deeply impressed, scaling a 100m sheer face is so surreal to me I found it hard to comprehend how they achieved the feat with just a few bits of rope and some ballet shoes. Ivy also needed to go to a town to get some cash because she had rapidly run out and I’m not exactly sure how – when travelling your money seems to disappear but rarely at 50 euros a day, she was clearly hording about 37 cans of beer somewhere. Me, Luke and Ivy all set off to find a camp stove and get some money out. I let Luke drive to Lleida to give him his first taste of driving in Spain. He was soon confronted by his first roundabout which must have been as foreign to an American driver as free healthcare. He handled it well and I explained how the lane system worked on a roundabout afterwards more clearly, when I finished he asked: “Why don’t you just stay in the outside lane all the way round?” and I couldn’t provide an instant effective answer straight away which frustrated me so had to give some half-formed reason about a crash that I felt was true enough. As it happened the lane system in Spain was to stay in the outside lane the entire time and the inside lane was clearly just for aesthetic appreciation. Like me, he adapted well to the driving apart from insisting on trying to pull away in 2nd for half the journey from a stand- still. When we reached Lleida we saw signs for a Decathlon on the outskirts so pulled into it rather than delve deeper into an industrial looking Lleida. As the trip has gone on Decathlon has very much served as a port in a storm for us; it’s wide, air-conditioned grey aisles offer a lovely respite from the scorching wilderness we inhabited most of the time. I wandered over to the fishing section and started picking up rods, nodding wisely when employees looked at me and inspecting them as if I knew what I was doing. Before leaving I had been toying with the idea of catching our own fish to cook, I am usually vegetarian[3] but the thought of catching a wild fish and grilling it was quite romantic. However, more appealing than this dreamscape was the fact that it was free and this economic paradise was very enticing. I had selected a random array of apparatus from my garage like it was a line and hook pick ‘n’ mix so all I needed was the rod, that I could buy for a very reasonable[4] 7euros. As it turned out the fishing pick ‘n’ mix I had created was the equivalent of three Toxic sweets, a single sherbet UFO and about 100 of those grim white chocolate circles with shit sprinkled all of them (they taste vaguely of lard[5] inexplicably) – so essentially fucking useless. I also perused the footballs for a moment, as I always do at sports shops, and imagined all the hypothetical screamers I would predictably not put top bins and this thought was enough to dissuade me. I met up with Ivy and Luke, Ivy was buying a roll mat, knife and a chalk bag for climbing whilst Luke was clutching the camp stove and some bottles of gas. We all paid and must have looked like the most ambitious fishermen ever – clearly planning to catch a fish with only a lineless rod and then cook it, then and there, on an open fire, then possibly climb… (the scenario falls apart here). We left the utopia of Decathlon and hit the road again. We introduced Ivy to a plethora of different music on the way home ranging from Clap Your Hands Say Yeah to Heems, it was a bit of a trip down memory lane for me and Luke as we hadn’t listened to this type of music together since year 11. Turns out ‘Womyn’ by Heems is still fucking funny and well worth a listen. It was absolutely roasting on the way home and we were all looking forward to our swim.

JUGB and Seamus were waiting for us and had already been swimming. We used our brand spanking new stove to heat up some Spanish tortilla which we then smothered in so much bravas sauce it became cold again. After letting the bravas sauce with some tortilla thrown in settle in our stomachs we headed down to the pool for the swim we had fantasised bout on the road from Lleida. The pool was large but shallow, at 6 foot 6 I was essentially waist deep for all of it which meant that I could run around it like a two-legged sea leviathan. We played chicken fighting and Luke rode the leviathan like Beowulf in a Scandinavian legend. JUGB then got out and played a variation of catch with Ivy that consisted of them standing incredibly close together and zinging the ball at each other in an attempt to make the opponent drop the ball. I had brought a windball with me, the kind you’d play cricket with in Primary school, which is the best ball for catch because thrown in certain ways can wobble like a knuckleball in football or swing like a Jimmy Anderson fast bowl at Lord’s. Meanwhile, me, Seamus and Luke were performing a type of wrestling show by throwing faux-punches and kicks, the lifeguard watched us carefully whilst the other Spanish bathers would occasionally throw us disapproving glances but none were brave enough to enter the octagon. Our battling slowly petered out and we lay on the scorching rusty pool side, drying off. This tranquillity obviously didn’t last and Seamus standing by the pool looking into the distant hills was too tempting for JUGB not to push him in. A cold, wet Seamus then proceeded to make my life a living hell; firstly, by flicking water onto my warming chest then by convincing JUGB to grab my arms and then together to swing me into the pool. Seamus overestimated his strength and my will to not enter the pool and dropped me onto the concrete edge of the pool and I then flopped into the icy depths like a long flaccid dildo. I returned to the surface in pain and furious. Seamus apologised but in my pleas for help that fell on the deaf ears of Ivy and Luke, I had explained he would drop me onto the hard ground. I lay back on the pool side, seeking heat and safety in the knowledge Seamus was too terrified to awaken the beast again. Another 20 minutes passed and we decided we should go climbing, JUGB had scouted out an easy climb for us all to try together and I was keen to try and learn the logistics of scaling a sheer wall. We got changed, packed the gear and piled into the car. As we were heading out of the campsite we thought we better book an extra night because the site was so perfect. We thought we had already paid for the first two nights and would probably cost an extra 25 euros for another. Luke hopped out, as he possessed the most Spanish but also wasn’t inundated by climbing apparatus. We imagined what the climbs were going to be like and JUGB explained why my trainers wouldn’t really do the trick as climbing shoes. Luke returned with several pieces of paper and got in the car saying: “Not good news.”. As it turned out, the campsite was too good to be true. It was double the price we thought and would cost 100 euros to have one more night and we hadn’t even paid for the night coming up. We discussed the pros and cons of staying another night but at 20 euros each it was a no brainer. We rushed back to our tents, rapidly backed them up then hit the road before the reception charged us the extra night, it was 7pm and we had clearly already overstayed our welcome. We tore out of the campsite in the Seat that may as well been called the Sardine model the amount of stuff we had packed in. We had no idea where we going to stay but wherever it was, it wasn’t going to be 20 euros each – we hoped.

[1] I have reached this conclusion on the basis that I hadn’t pissed myself and I emit an enormous amount of heat.

[2] Spicy tomato ketchup is the best I can do.

[3] When I say this I mean vegetarian, not somebody who says they’re vegetarian but eats fish. I don’t normally give a shit about any vegetarian rhetoric but if you eat fish you’re not a vegetarian – it’s like calling yourself a football player when you just watch Match of the Day.

[4] I assume it was reasonable because Decathlon would never betray me, my knowledge of the rod market is minimal.

[5] “HA TIM!!! I GOT YOU!!! YOU AREN’T A VEGETARIAN!!”. Yeah haven’t always been, NOW GET OFF MY FUCKING CASE YEAH M888

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