#i see paul got caught with his eyes shut in that first one

[silverfoxstole]

Tailor Steven Ricks with Paul, Conrad and India at Spearhead Live 3 three weeks ago.

[reigningqueenofwords]

That's How You Know

Pairing: Tony x Reader Word count: 4,003

Read on AO3

You leaned your head on Nat’s shoulder, the two of you watching some comedy in an effort to cheer you up. You’d broken up with your long time boyfriend just the day before. And it sucked. The two of you had been together most of your twenties. Now, at 28, you were nursing a broken heart, eating a pint of ice cream, and cuddling your super-spy best friend. 

“Miss, Mr. Stark is inquiring if you’d like take out from your favorite restaurant for dinner this evening.” Came JARVIS’s voice. 

Hearing that, you smiled softly. “Tell him yes, and thank you.” You agreed easily. 

Nat smirked at you. “You know he loves you, right?” She pointed out. “I mean, it’s really obvious.” She chuckled. “He just never actually said it because you were dating that asshat.” 

You shifted to look at her. “What the hell are you talking about?” You asked, confused. “A- Tony doesn’t love me, and B- he wasn’t an asshat until the last like...month.” You muttered in defence of your ex. 

“You are so blind. And he clearly thinks we are, too.” She was amused. “Look, I’d tell you to just go kiss the man, but I’ll be nice and let you get over your ex before pushing you together and going ‘now kiss’.” She smirked, making you stare at her. “You’ll see.” She said confidently. “Now, let’s finish this movie.” 

It had been six months since that conversation with Nat, and you’d pushed it from your mind. However, you were out with her, Wanda, and Pepper, which meant drinks. It made it difficult not to think about the handsome inventor. Just as you were thinking of him, your phone went off. 

Nat looked over your shoulder and smirked. “Awe, he’s worried about you!” She chuckled as you playfully shoved her away. “He is seriously texting you just to tell you that you’re on his mind, but he wanted a reason, so he pulled the ‘be safe’ card.” She downed another shot. “And, you’re right. That would be a warning for some pour perv to mess with any of us.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever.” You put your phone away, going back to your drink. 

“So, who’s the mystery man?” Wanda grinned. “Do we know him? Oh! Is it that cute agent?” You raised an eyebrow at her. There were a few cute agents. “I think his name is Paul? Such an unsexy name for such a nice face.” She mumbled. “Spill the beans.” 

You were about to shut this entire conversation down when Nat spoke up. “It’s Tony.” She said easily. “He’s had it bad for her for years.” She went on, making you put your head on the table. “She doesn’t believe it, but she’s the only one who got a ‘be safe’ text.” Nat chuckled, licking her lips. “And I see someone I’d like to be bad with tonight. Excuse me, ladies!” She slipped out of her chair and towards whoever had caught her eye. 

Pepper rubbed over your shoulders. “Want me to get us some shots? Since Nat drank them all?” She chuckled. 

Sitting up, you sighed, nodding. “Sure, I need one. Or five.” You shrugged. You didn’t want to believe Tony loved you. You didn’t want to admit you loved him, either. So, you’d get a bit drunk, and then go back to forgetting about it the next day. 

Walking into your kitchen a couple weeks later, you were wearing an oversized sweater and leggings. It was a cold fall day, the skies were grey, and you planned on curling up with a book, and a cup of coffee. You had to do a double take. There, on your kitchen island, was a bouquet of sunflowers. That had not been there the night before. Walking to the table, you lifted the note that was placed in front of it. 

I know you hate days like this. Here’s some flowers to brighten your day. 

-Tony

You blushed, biting your lip. Once you set the note down, you went over to your coffee maker and decided you’d thank him by bringing him a cup. “JARVIS, is Tony in his labs?” You asked as you brewed your cup first. This way his would be hotter by the time you got to him. 

“Yes, Miss. Do you need his assistance?” He asked. 

“No, tell him I’ll be down shortly, though?” 

Tony looked up when you walked in. His face lit up as he took the mug you held out for him. “Thank you for the flowers.” You smiled, leaning against a table. “I was not expecting those.” You chuckled before sipping your drink. 

“Well, when I saw the sky, I knew you’d like them.” He shrugged a shoulder as if it was something just anyone would do. “And I remember you like sunflowers.” You’d told him once before when telling him a story about your life growing up. “And, you’re welcome.” He smiled. “Thank you for the coffee.” He held his mug up slightly for a moment. “I need it. Working on this damn bug.” He sighed. 

You giggled, shaking your head. “I’ll let you get back to that.” You told him. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.” 

He nodded. “Enjoy your book.” He smirked when you looked at him. “You’re going to crack your sliding glass door, curl up under the blanket I got you last year for Christmas, and read.” He teased.

You were just kicking off your boots after working on your Christmas shopping when your phone went off. You were assuming it was Nat, asking you to come to girl’s night, or to watch a movie. It was Saturday night, after all. However, your eyebrows shot up at it being Tony. 

Letting out a sigh, you removed your coat and made your way back out of your door. Minutes later, you found yourself knocking on Nat’s. “Well, it wasn’t a break up, what’s that face for?” She raised an eyebrow, letting you in. 

“Tony.” You shrugged as she shut the door. “Apparently, he wants me to be his plus one at some event. He’s known for two months, and it’s next Friday. He asked me today. Well, like, less than half an hour ago.” 

“Yeah, we’re all going.” Nat shrugged. “Next Friday is his Christmas benefit for the kids.” She teased. “Did you honestly forget?” She laughed. 

You blushed. “I’m sorry, I was too busy being shocked that he was asking me on a date.” You admitted. “At least I already have my dress then.” You noted. “Well, I’m here, want to watch a movie before I head home and start wrapping presents?” You asked. 

She shrugged. “Sure, as long as you tell me what you got Tony.” She smirked. 

“I haven’t gotten his yet. What the hell do you get the man that has everything?! Or could build it, or buy it.” You half whined as the two of you moved to get comfortable. 

“Lingerie?” She asked. 

“I never pegged him for the type of guy to wear that…” You mused, thinking it over. He was over the top, so you could honestly see it now that you thought about it. 

Nat burst into laughter. “NO!” She was doubled over. “And it’s even funnier because you said ‘pegged’.” She wiped a tear from her cheek from laughing so hard. “No, I meant YOU wear it, and slap a bow on your ass. Pretty sure that would be what he wants.” She nudged you as your face turned a bright red. 

“….Oh.” You managed.

Tony’s hand was on your lower back, his other hand holding yours. The pair of you were dancing, and there was a twinkle in his eye. “So, Nat is the one who pointed out that I already knew about tonight.” You blushed, making him chuckle. “She thought it was amusing. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He shrugged a shoulder. “I thought it was cute. I made you so flustered that you forgot.” He smirked. 

“Oh, really? And what if it’s because I had a long day of Christmas shopping for a super-spy, a super soldier, and an archer? Fully knowing my shopping wasn’t done yet.” You asked, an amused look on your face. 

He gasped playfully. “And not the child-like billionaire?” He asked. 

“Still trying to figure out what to get him.” You smiled. “It’ll come to me.” You promised. 

Holding you close, he nodded. “I’m sure it will. Well, I’m done all my Christmas shopping, and I am sure that you will love your present.” He told you. “Nat helped.” He laughed as your face fell, turning pale. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” He grinned. 

“So mean.” You leaned your head on his chest. 

Minutes later, Steve came over. “May I cut it?” He asked. 

You looked at him. “Sure, but I’m not sure which one of you would lead.” You chuckled. 

“Funny, doll.” He smiled as he took your hand, causing Tony to pout. “Hey, Clint still wants a dance, so does Bucky, Thor, and Sam…” He teased the poor inventor, pulling you into his arms. “You look beautiful tonight.” He told you as Tony excused himself. “And he’s too easy to mess with.” 

“Thank you. And he really is.” You giggled. “It’ll be even more fun come New Year’s when he’s drinking.” You smirked. “Then he’s really easy to get to.” You thought back to the previous year when, once he was drunk, you’d managed to convince him that he’d let you borrow his favorite car. And then ‘lost’ it. It didn’t last long, but his face was priceless. 

Steve laughed, nodding. “Hopefully we get more pictures this year.” 

“I’m sure we will.” You figured that Nat would be taking some to ‘prove’ that Tony was in love with you.

Much to your dismay, a mission came up. 

On Christmas Eve. 

Part of you expected Tony to pout, if you were being honest. Him, or Clint. Both were like giant children. Sitting on the Quinjet, you were talking with Wanda. While Steve got serious, some of you just relaxed, and others made a point to have a good time. Who knew if there’d be a mission someone didn’t come home from? Why make your last memories of them anything but happy?

Bucky nudged you. “Hey, doll?” He asked, making you look over. “You do most of the decorating, right?” 

“Yeah, why?” You chuckled. “I have for years, but I ask you guys for help as needed. You know that.” You teased. 

“Have you ever thought about putting stuff up in the Quinjet?” He was curious. “In case something like this happens. Why not make it festive in here, too?” 

You thought about it for a minute. “I never thought about it. When I’m decorating for Christmas, the last thing on my mind is possibly deadly missions with my friends.” You shrugged. “I mean, I can try to remember next year?” You offered. 

“It’s okay, I was honestly just curious. You’re like the elf of the tower.” He smirked. “It’s cute.” He winked. Nat smirked at him, shaking her head. She knew he was only doing it because Tony was close by. “I haven’t seen any mistletoe. Did you skip it this year?” 

Bucky was all over the place it seemed, making you stare at him for a moment. “Uh, thanks?” You replied, unsure. “And you don’t remember when poor Steve had to kiss almost all of us? In the course of maybe two days? I thought I’d be nice and let him have a break from lip locking this year.” You chuckled as you saw Steve blush and hide his face. He had indeed kissed nearly everyone the year before. And he��d been sober for them all! 

Tony looked over. “Who’s didn’t he end up kissing?” He asked, having been one of those that he had. 

You put your hand up. “Me, and I think Bruce?” You told him. “I only kissed Nat, Bucky, and Clint.” You thought back. 

Nat stuck her tongue out at him, teasing him that she’d kissed you and he hadn’t. “Shame you didn’t put them up again, I would have found a way to get you underneath the mistletoe again.” She winked at you playfully when you looked at her. 

“Me, too.” Bucky admitted. 

“And me.” Clint chimed in, even though no one knew that he was paying attention. He had his eyes closed, legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles, and his fingers laced together on his chest. “Especially with that body spray she only wears in the winter.” He added. 

You chuckled. “You mean the one that smells like cupcakes?” You asked. It was received for once the snow started to fall, and was put away once it was over. Cupcakes reminded you of baking with your dad as a kid, and you’d always make cupcakes. So, it was a nice reminder when the days got shorter, and colder. 

“You pay attention to her body spray?” Tony asked, surprised. 

Before Clint could answer, JARVIS let them know they’d be arriving in under two minutes. 

Your back was to a wall, your breathing coming out ragged. This was not as easy of a mission as you’d been hoping for. At the moment, you were actually hiding- not your proudest moment, either. Your leg had been shot, you had a split lip, you were sure you were sporting a shiner, and your shirt was sticking to you with blood. Some of it was yours, some of it wasn’t. You tried to push that thought from your mind as you closed your eyes. You nearly jumped when you heard Steve in your comm. “Y/N? You’re the only one not accounted for at the meetup.” His voice was firm, but the worry was there. 

Clenching your jaw, you replied. “Yeah, uh, about that.” You started. “Seems I got a bit…injured…in the process of taking some guys out.” You hissed as you pressed against your leg. 

It was Tony’s voice you heard next. “How bad is it? Can you get to us?” He asked quickly. 

You sagged. “No, I can’t.” You hated having to rely on them during missions. You wanted to be able to hold your own. “I got shot in the thigh for starters.” You leaned your head back against a wall. 

“For starters?!” Came a few voices, but you couldn’t pin point them all. 

“Can one of you just come get me before I pass out?” You asked, pain radiating from your wounds. “That would be great!” 

“On my way, doll.” Bucky spoke up. “Keep talking to me.” He told you, hoping to distract you from your pain. “Let me know where you are.” 

You sighed. “Alright.” You agreed before telling him where to find you.

The rest of the team waited in the quinjet while Bucky rushed to get to you. They had moved from the meet up point before he’d left them, so that he knew where to find them. Tony kept  his eyes on the entrance, jaw tight. “She’ll be fine.” Wanda told him. “It was her thigh. If anything, she’ll have to relax for a bit.” She shrugged. “Maybe I’ll ask her if she wants a movie marathon.” 

“She’s in pain, Wanda.” He reminded her. “Bad enough she was worrying about passing out. That doesn’t sound fine to me.” He sighed, not looking at her. “At all.” 

No one else bothered to try to calm him down, knowing it was useless. Until he saw you, he’d be worried. Then, it would shift to worry about you healing. People getting injured on missions was nothing new. It happened. They all knew that it bothered him so much more because it was you. 

Once he spotted Bucky,  you in his arms, he relaxed the tiniest bit. Your head was against Bucky’s shoulder, and your eyes were closed. “She passed out about halfway here.” He said softly, moving to lay you down. “Used my shirt as a tourniquet.” He explained, noting the raised eyebrow Nat was shooting his way. “I would have used hers, but…” He sighed, motioning to your blood stained shirt. 

“JARVIS, get us home.” Tony demanded, watching Bruce start to work on you. He cut your shirt up the middle, showing that your stomach wounds weren’t as bad as the shirt made it look. That was a minor comfort to him, though. The worst of it was a gash closest to the top of your pants. Letting out a sigh, he hoped they could get you more comfortable back at the tower. 

Groaning, you slowly opened your eyes to see Tony sitting there in a Y/F/C shirt. “When’d you get that?” You asked, licking  your dry lips. 

He looked up, grinning. “Uh, I had Nat go get it for me.” He chuckled. “Last night, while you were still out. I know it’s your favorite color.” He moved to sit on the side of your bed. “How’re you feeling?” He asked, taking your hand. 

“Like I got hit by a bus.” You told him honestly. “I didn’t think I was that bad.” You admitted. 

“I think that’s the drugs he gave you.” He shrugged. “The ‘good’ stuff.” He winked. “It’ll ease up, I’m sure.” He assured you. “Oh, and Wanda is currently finding nearly every Disney movie she can find.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “She thought it would be fun to have a movie marathon, and for some reason, she has her heart set on Disney.” He chuckled. 

You smiled. “She’s sweet.” You said softly. “Can I count on you to join us for a couple?” You asked shyly. 

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” He promised you, kissing your forehead. “Now, I’ll let Bruce check you out while I go order dinner.” He got up. “My place, or here?” He teased. 

“Depends on what the doctor says.” You chuckled. “See you for dinner.”

Bruce had said it was okay for you to leave, but walking wasn’t happening. That left you to either use a wheelchair, or be carried. You couldn’t use crutches, as that would stretch your stomach, and that would pull on the stitches on your lower stomach. You’d gone with the wheelchair (even if Bucky and Steve volunteered to carry you). 

Rolling out of the elevator onto Tony’s floor, you smiled when you saw Pepper. “Hey.” You greeted her. 

She turned. “Y/N!” She smiled. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Tony told me what happened.” She said, coming over to hug you. “How’re you feeling?” She asked gently. 

“Well, I’m not in a ‘hospital’ bed anymore, so much better.” You joked. “Oh, since I don’t know when we’re doing the whole Christmas exchange thing, you can go get your present? I know you go see family, too.” You smiled. “My presents are in a box on my living room floor. Yours is in a medium sized box.” 

“I think I’d rather wait to do mine with everyone else.” She told you. “Even if it’s not until after the New Year. You guys are my family, too.” She reminded you. 

Tony came in, making you attempt to turn your wheelchair. “I hate this thing.” You muttered, getting stuck half way. 

“Pepper, can you roll her to the living room?” He asked, hands full of food. “I’ll get everything set up.” He told her, smiling. 

She nodded, getting behind you. “I know you’d rather roll yourself, but don’t argue.” She said before you could say you could do it yourself. When you sighed, she chuckled, and started pushing you. “Looks cozy in here.” She looked around. Tony had a blanket and pillows in front of the fire place. 

“Thanks, Pepper.” He said, putting everything down. “I can take it from here.” He moved over to hug her. “Merry Christmas.” He smiled. 

“Merry Christmas. Both of you.” She hugged him back before waving to you. 

“Merry Christmas.” You waved. Once she was gone, you smiled at Tony. “So, dinner by a fire?” You asked shyly. “I’ll need help getting down there.” You pointed out. 

He moved over to gently lift you out of your chair. “Of course.” He got you settled on a pillow before getting the food. “What would you like to drink?” He asked, taking things out of the bags. 

“Well, Bruce still has me on pain killers. So, soda?” You chuckled. 

“One Y/F soda coming up.” He said easily, going to get a drink for each of you. He hoped that you weren’t weirded out by him trying to show you how much he cared about you. 

Sitting on the couch, your leg over Wanda’s lap as you finished up The Little Mermaid. “What’s next?” You asked her, as she was the one who had set this up. 

“Enchanted.” She smiled. “It doesn’t get enough credit for being amazing.” She said quickly. “It’s one of my favorites.” She popped a piece of popcorn in her mouth.

You had to admit, you saw why this was a favorite. It had you giggling, and you loved Pip. “Okay, Pip is the best.” You grinned. 

“Right?” She agreed easily. “He was my text tone for awhile.” She chuckled. 

When ‘That’s How You Know’ came on, you started to listen and your jaw dropped. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.” You gasped. 

“What?” She paused it, looking at you confused. “What’s wrong?” 

You looked at her. “Tony’s done all that!” You stared at her. “Literally. I don’t even think he’d know, as I can’t see him watching this.” You explained. “A couple months ago? He left me a note and sunflowers because it was dreary out. He asked me to that Christmas ball thing and danced with me as much as he could. When I woke up after the mission? He was wearing my favorite color shirt. And then when I got out? He got us dinner…which we ate in front of the fire in his living room.” You grabbed your phone to text him. 

You stared at your phone. “Hey, can you help me back into my chair? I need to go see Tony.” You swallowed, looking at her. 

She smiled and gently moved your leg. “Yeah, I think I can do that.” She nodded.

Hearing the elevator to his labs, he looked over to see you rolling in. “So…” You said shyly. “You love me?” You asked him. 

“Yeah, I do.” He smiled. “Have for awhile.” He shrugged, setting his phone down before making his way to you. “Thought you were mad or something.” He blushed lightly, a look that you weren’t used to seeing on him. 

“No wonder my phone was going off so much.” You teased. “I’m not mad, Tony.” You promised him. “Not even close.” You grinned up at him. “I love you, too.” You admitted softly. “I just don’t think it really hit me until that damn song.” You giggled. 

He crouched so you didn’t have to look up at him anymore. “So, can I take you on a real date?” He asked. 

You nodded. “Once I can walk.” You chuckled. “A wheelchair in New York? I give major props to anyone who is can do that. I, however, don’t think I’d last more than five minutes before I want to hurt someone.” You admitted. 

“Deal.” 

“Ready for your first dance, Mrs. Stark?” Tony asked, your hand in his. 

You smiled over at him. “I’ve been ready.” You told him easily. “Let’s get out there and start this party.” You leaned over to peck his lips. 

He kissed you back. “There’s one part of that song I missed.” He pointed out, making you raised an eyebrow at him. “I never dedicated a song to you.” 

“You’re thinking of that now?” You teased. “After three years?” You asked. 

“Yup.” He laughed. “I’ll have to change that after I spin you around that dance floor.” 

[bcdrawsandwrites]

(Please reblog if you want to, do not repost! Do not post to Pinterest!)

[ID: A Team Fortress 2 fanfic cover featuring a render of Pyro and Spy standing back-to-back in profile, with Pyro facing left and Spy facing right, standing against a dark purple background. Spy is smoking. Both characters have a yellow/orange rim lighting. Above them is the title of the fic, Flickering, glowing the same glowing yellow/orange. /end ID]

Fandom: Team Fortress 2

Rating: K+

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship

Characters: Spy, Pyro, all the other mercs, and Miss Pauling (primarily Spy and Pyro, but everyone else has important moments too)

Warnings: TF2-typical violence, PTSD, panic attacks, trauma in general (none of these guys are okay)

Description: After the events of the comics, the mercs try to go back to how things were, but it's never that easy.

Spy can see his teammates going through their own struggles… but something seems to be very, very wrong with Pyro in particular.

And since no one else seems to be doing anything about this, Spy makes it his mission to get to the bottom of what is troubling Pyro. For no particular reason.

Beta Readers: @mechmolar, @gonturan0, @junuve (Teeth (mechmolar) also did the render for the cover!)

Notes: This fic is legit like around 80% complete already because it takes me forever to actually post anything these days. I'll be posting new chapters as I feel like it. It'll be around 10 chapters in total. Also, Pyro is nonhuman and uses it/its pronouns in this fic. Okay? Okay.

---

Prologue

They were pretty sure they knew what awaited them when they got to Gray Mann's base. Or, Spy was sure, anyway. Mann was after the same Australium they were, and they'd be interrogated for what little they knew. And he wasn’t going to get that information out of them easily.

Spy’s tongue nudged one of his fake teeth. The time would come for that eventually.

His suspicions were confirmed when Demo, still distraught from the loss of Sniper, was dragged out by a couple of the enemy mercs, who snickered over the ways they could "make him talk."

That left him, Miss Pauling, Soldier, Zhanna, and Pyro, all of them chained up in a tiny room, waiting out their fate.

Well, until that thing entered.

It was the other team's pyro. Their Pyro perked up with an interested hum when it saw the other, only to jump—as much as it could with its feet chained to the floor—when the enemy pyro removed its face.

Spy had, admittedly, been caught off-guard, but rolled his eyes immediately after. This was not like their Pyro. This one was a human—a woman, her face scarred with old burns and one eye missing, her hair pepper gray with half her scalp scarred over. The fact that she was human had startled him more than any disfigurement could have.

Of course, he had to remind himself that his team was the exception, as always. They'd become so accustomed to the incredibly strange nature of their comrade that it felt eerie to actually see a human behind a similar mask.

Pyro must have felt the same, with the way it tilted its head with a hum of consternation.

The woman stared at it in turn. "Hm. This one seems promising."

Miss Pauling's head shot up, but Spy nudged her and subtly shook his head.

Unfortunately, Soldier was not on their wavelength. "That one? HAH! If you need a building burned to the ground, maybe! But Pyro doesn't talk!"

One of the woman's eyebrows raised in interest. "Really."

Spy shut his eyes, imagining himself flipping open his butterfly knife and driving it through Soldier's throat.

"Nope! It's completely incomprehensible! It can’t tell you anything! The rest of us won’t, either—we will not yield under torture, especially not me. Though I'd love to see you try!"

"Soldier, no!" Zhanna cried. "I must be tortured first!"

But the enemy pyro did not respond to them—likely still staring at their Pyro. "It doesn't, eh?" she said, putting a heavy emphasis on the pronoun. "Good. I like a challenge."

Seconds later, several robots filed into the room, immediately heading for Pyro and unlocking its shackles from the floor. Pyro mumbled something at them.

"Wait, no!" Soldier cried. "Pick me, pick me! I'm a good challenge!"

But the robots paid them no mind as they escorted Pyro out, and Spy cracked an eye open to see it showed no signs of worrying about what was about to happen. The door slammed shut, and he let out a sigh, tipping his head back. "Soldier, you are going to get us all killed."

"We're gonna die anyway!" Soldier protested. "We can at least go down fighting!"

"We are not going to go down fighting, you imbecile. We are—" He stopped himself there, deciding he didn't particularly want to reflect on their fates with someone who wasn't going to care anyway.

"Poor Pyro," Miss Pauling murmured. "What are they going to do to it?"

Spy shrugged. "Better it than us." He lowered his voice. "With luck, they'll waste several hours trying to get information out of it before they realize Soldier, idiot that he is, was more-or-less telling the truth. That may buy us some time."

"You think we can still get out of this?" she whispered, hope edging into her voice.

"Not likely. We're probably delaying the inevitable." His tongue nudged one of his molars.

"We'll have to hope.” Miss Pauling sighed, staring at the door. "I guess Demo or Pyro could break out."

Spy barely resisted the urge to snort. "The drunkard? Not likely. Pyro? Who knows."

"I still can't imagine what they would do to it."

Spy tipped his head back to regard the ceiling for a moment. "Who can say? Waterboarding, perhaps?” A random guess, and he snorted at the absurdity of it. “Though I struggle to imagine what could break that creature."

"Neither could the Administrator. That's one of the reasons she recruited it." Miss Pauling shook her head. "If that's the case, maybe it'll find a way to break out. And break us out of here."

"Unless it decides to burn down the whole base with us inside. Regardless, resisting torture and breaking free are two different things. But we shall see."

Soldier groaned. "But when's it gonna be my turn to get tortured for information?"

"Will be our turn soon," Zhanna reassured him.

Spy heaved a sigh, and Miss Pauling shut her eyes.

They sat in uncomfortable silence (save for Soldier and Zhanna's chatter) for some time, Spy keeping an eye on the door while Miss Pauling stared at the floor, lost in her own thoughts.

The minutes ticked on. For how long, Spy was uncertain—he couldn't reach his watch to read it, and the feeling of dread in the air was not helping with their perception of time. Next to him, Miss Pauling occasionally muttered to herself, and every so often he could pick up phrases.

"...and we could go back to Australia, and..."

"...if Scout or Heavy are still out there..."

"...and Sniper could... wait, no..."

Sighing, he almost considered tuning her out, but it was a good distraction from his nicotine cravings, at least.

At some point, she raised her head. "Where is it?"

Spy raised an eyebrow. "Hm?"

"Pyro. They've been keeping it for a long time."

"Yes. Demo has been gone for some time, too."

"Yeah, but... they can get information out of him." She turned to face him again, and an unspoken question hung in the air.

Spy returned her gaze. "Miss Pauling, if you are under the impression that we are in the hands of anyone other than violent sadists, I do not know what to tell you."

Before she could react, the door burst open.

“I VOLUNTEER!” Soldier cried, straining against his manacles.

But instead of their captors, Pyro stumbled into the room.

Spy would have hoped that it had indeed broken loose and come to rescue them had it not been for the fact that its hands were shackled behind its back.

The robots escorted Pyro to the end of the bench, where they shackled its feet to the floor. Meanwhile, the enemy pyro stepped into the room.

"Finally!" Soldier exclaimed. "You've had your turn, Pyro. Now it's mine!"

"Our turn," Zhanna corrected.

With an unfriendly smile, the woman turned to face them. "If you insist."

While the robots got to work escorting the two least intelligent people out of the room, Spy and Miss Pauling looked over their recently-returned companion. "Pyro?" Miss Pauling whispered. "You okay, buddy?"

Pyro said nothing, sitting still on the bench and facing forward.

"...Well, it looks okay, anyway." Miss Pauling shrugged. "Guess the Administrator was right."

"Hm." Spy's eyes narrowed as he continued to look Pyro over. While it was true that it looked more-or-less uninjured—the suit was a little roughed up, but that was it—he couldn't be too sure that it was unharmed. The enemy wouldn't have just done nothing with it, and the way Pyro did not answer them, nor even respond to its surroundings, was not encouraging.

Nor was the fact that it was trembling.

But before he could analyze Pyro's behavior any further, the doors burst open again, and this time a barely-coherent Demo was practically dragged into the room.

In the whirlwind of events that followed, the torture that their fellow mercs had endured was nearly all but forgotten.

But it would not stay that way.

[raya-hunter01]

Fade Into You Part. 2

Prequel Lights, Camera, Action!

Jey Uso x Black Female OC! (Shantell)

Roman x Black Female OC! Tangela

Solo x Black Female OC! Sofia

Jimmy x Trin

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut; oral, sex, fluff, masturbation

FADE INTO YOU

Summary: This is the Prequel for Lights, Camera, Action! How does an outburst on your first day lead to a lifelong friendship with the Tribal Chief Roman Reigns and the stands the test of time. How does that friendship introduce you to a special group of people that will become your family.  

When did the lines get blurred between friendship and wanting a relationship with one of your best friends Mr. Main Event Jey Uso. Follow the friendships, and relationships of how they all came to be the one big happy family we all know and love in Lights, Camera, Action.

Times Square August 2018

Manhattan, New York

“This place is amazing.” I said taking in the experience and people as Joe was showing me downtown Manhattan. “Come on, you gotta try a hot dog, they be busin’,” Joe said continuing to walk as I stopped in my tracks mesmerized by a movie trailer playing on the big screen.

“Hey, why did you stop? Joe asked coming over to see what had caught my eye.

“That’s amazing, I said pointing up at the larger-than-life screen in awe as Joe smiled at me. “You know your movie trailers are gon’ be playin’ up there someday,” he said as I laughed. “Oh, stop teasing me Joe,” I said waving him off as we continued our walk.

“I’m serious Shantell, you gon’ do amazing things and I can’t wait to cheer you on,” Joe said kissing my hand as I blushed.

“Well speak it into the atmosphere bestie,” I said smiling at him as we continued our search for a hotdog vendor.

“So, did Jey tell you about the new Candy development? Joe asked as I frowned at him. “No, what’s going on now? I asked as he sighed almost as if he was trying to find the right words to say.

“She had her lawyer contact Jey today, she all of a sudden wants a reconciliation. Mind you his brother just saw the other man at the house the other day,” he said as I growled in frustration.

“ I swear the more people tell me about this chick the more I want to punch her in the fuckin’ throat,” I said honestly as Joe laughed.  Wincing in pain I rubbed my side. “What was that?” Joe asked instantly moving my hand, rubbing my side where my hand had been.

“It’s nothing, I just had a sharp pain that caught me off guard. It’s gone now,” I said as he seemed to not be buying my answer.

“You sure, I mean cause doc can check you out at the building,” Joe said checking me over.

“I’m good stop worrying,” I reassured him as we finally found a vendor and got a few hotdogs. We spent a good portion of the afternoon just exploring the city.

-------

Smackdown

Madison Square Garden

Shantell’s POV

“So, you actually behind a camera tonight? Jimmy asked as Tevin was helping me set up my camera. “Yes, I’m over your segment, we are going to run it on the after-show,” I said as Jimmy smiled. "I see they tryin’ to make these big moves to use you. That’s what’s up," Jimmy said as I smiled.

“Is it too heavy?” Tevin asked coming behind me trying to help me as I was trying to get used to the camera. “Nah, I think I’ll be good as long as I ain’t got to hold it long,” I said honestly as Tevin laughed putting his hands on my hips trying to keep me steady.

“Aye, no funny business, I got my eyes on you,” Jimmy said eying Tevin suspiciously as Tevin scoffed. I couldn't help but look at Jimmy horrified.

“I can assure you I’m a professional, Mr. Uso,” Tevin said as I gave Jimmy a look to shut up.

“Thanks, Tevin I want to put it down now since we’ve got a few minutes and we’re still waiting on Jey,” I said as he grabbed the camera off my shoulder.

I could hear the shuffle of feet in a steady jog. “Aye, I’m here ya’ll I had a meeting with Paul,” Jey said coming over as I smiled at him. Ok, I’ll admit it, I’m crushin’ bad.

“No problem, you didn’t have to rush,” I assured him as I took a deep breath dreading putting the camera on my shoulder, my side was already killing me.

“Ok, I need ya’ll by the fence,” I said walking over as they joined me. “Where do you want us,” Jey asked as I looked around at the lighting. “Jey on my left Jimmy pivot into Jey so I can do this in a tight shot,” I said as Jimmy and Jey looked confused.

 “What the hell is a tight shot?” Jimmy said as I hit him on the shoulder jokingly. “Just trust me, I got ya’ll,” I said as they were trying to put their heads together bouncing ideas off of each other.

Jey’s POV

I have no clue what my brother is saying in this fuckin promo, I’m too focused on this motherfucka Tevin here finding every reason to touch Shantell.

I feel my fist tighten as I see him place his hands on her hips as she leaned up on her tiptoes.

Slowly growlin’ I opened my mouth slightly to show off my new grill.

“Tell’em all what we bout to do Jey,” Jimmy said as I I rubbed my hands together. “We back like we never left and we comin’! We comin’ for what’s ours, you looking at the soon-to-be Smackdown tag team champions! Wellllcoome!!! To the Uso Penatenturary!!  I shouted as Jimmy and me mean mugged the camera. I almost didn't see Shantell’s hand counting us down but we had it right before she yelled cut.

“Hell yea, ya’ll did great,” Shantell said as Tevin took the camera off her shoulder.

“Thanks, Shan,” I said giving her a hug shooting Tevin a look as he looked nervous. Yea, I know what you tryin to do and it ain’t gon’ work. Hands off this one bruh.

“Are you comin’ out wit us tonight?” Jimmy asked Shantell as she shook her head no. “Nah, I’m tired. I’m going to call home, check on my grandmother, and turn it in,” Shantell said.

“Well, I’ll owe you a drink in the next town,” I said as she smiled at me before her phone went off.

“Sorry ya’ll Paul is calling me,” she said walking off privately to take her call. “Aye, when you gon’ tell Shantell you feelin’ her?” Jimmy said as I frowned at him.

 “I ain’t feelin’ her..I mean she’s cool, but she my Uce, that’s it. I told you I ain’t into dating nobody. I got too much shit goin’ on to bring anybody into this shit,” I said as Jimmy rolled his eyes.

“Well ok, that’s yo ass when she’s on somebody else’s arm. Then she really gon’ be just yo damn Uce,” Jimmy said walking away leaving me in my thoughts.

I mean did I really like Shantell?…… Nah, it can't be... We're just friends.

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

Time Square

Manhattan, New York

Jimmy’s POV

Jey and I hit a few bars tonight and got pretty damn lit. “Aye, where we at?” Jey asked as I laughed. “Shit, I don’t know see this why I wanted Trin to come wit us,” I said laughing pulling out my phone trying to focus.

“Aye, man this some bullshit,” Jey said as I tried to focus my eyes but my vision was blurry as fuck and I accidently pressed the live button on my Instagram. “Shit, how you turn this off,” I said trying to find the end live button as Jey grabbed my phone.

“Give me the fuckin phone, we fuckin lost in Time Square," Jey snickered as I laughed myself. “Oh my god it’s the Usos!” we heard someone say as I turned, seeing the guy coming closer to us as Jey laughed. “It’s the fuckin’ Usos! I exclaimed in an excited voice having a little fun with the fan.

“We lost in Time Square, now look at this motherfucka,” Jey said turning the phone on the fan as we continued to laugh. Then I saw Jey’s eyes get wide, a sudden realization dawned on him. I started to see more people making their way towards us and it hit me as well.

 “Oh, shit we in a bad predicament, oh fuck we gotta go,” Jey said somewhat sober now. “We gon hit another bar?” I asked as Jey rolled his eyes “Hell nawl, we gotta go,” Jey said passing me my phone.

Trying to think of a way to end my live I began talking with a bit more sense. “Aye, uh, right now we gon’ head out,” I said as the fan interrupted me. “Can I get a photo really quick?” he asked as I looked at him unsure of what to say.

“Shit, turn it off Jon,” Jey said finally finding the button ending my live. “Man, you always getting me in shit,” Jey said as I rolled my eyes as we took a quick picture with the fan before continuing our way back to the hotel.

“I didn’t put no drink to yo mouth and make you drink it,” I said as he shook his head. “You might as well come on bro, get the bitch off yo mind, take a load off,” Jey mocked as I tried to shift the blame.

“See why you gotta bring up old shit?” I said as Jey ran his hands over his face. Well at least one of us was sobering up…

-----

Embassy Suites

Shantell’s POV

Sitting on the balcony I finally felt relaxed, and I was finally feeling better. I was slowly dozing as my phone startled me, looking down I saw I got a notification on Instagram saying Jimmy had been live. “What the hell he goin’ live for at two in the morning?” I muttered clicking on his live.

“Oh my god,” I whispered watching the live in horror until it abruptly ended. “What the hell were they thinking?" I said to myself trying to calm down as heard commotion down below that seemed to be close by. I knew…Well I hoped it was them making it back safely.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered going back into my room, slipping on some sweats along with my shoes, quickly grabbed my key. I opened my door and almost collided with Trin. "I can’t reach Jimmy nor Jey, have you heard from them?” she asked frantically as I dragged her hand, steering her towards the elevator.

“I think they are close by," I said as Trin wiped her tears. “I just don’t know what to do about Jimmy and this drinking. Now he got Jey out here acting stupid too,” she cried as I rubbed her back.

“Hey, he’s ok…and ya’ll are going to figure it out. Jey’s gon’ figure his shit out too, you gotta believe that,” I said trying to not freak out on this elevator that was moving so slow.

Jey’s POV

“Damn I ain’t got my key,” I muttered searching through my pockets as Jimmy was leaning up against the wall outside the hotel.

“Aye, can I stay wit you tonight? Trin gon’ kill me, I said I was only gon’ have two drinks. I can’t walk in the room like this, “Jimmy said somewhat sobering up.

“Glad you starting to sober up, but didn’t you hear me say I can’t find my fuckin’ key!” I screamed as Jimmy laughed.

“Excuse me, could you both keep it down people are trying to sleep around here. If you can’t keep it down we will have to call the proper authorities,” an older gentleman bellhop said as Jimmy rolled his eyes stepping to the guy.

“How about you mind yo fuckin business,” he said as I saw Shantell and Trin come out of the hotel. I would rather be anywhere than here looking at their faces right now.

“Ah hell,” I whispered as Trin walked up to Jimmy. “I’m sorry for my husband’s outburst, he’s just had a lot going on. I’m going to take him to bed now, “Trin said as Jimmy’s face softened.

“Hey baby!” he started as her cold stare made him zip his lips as she took him by the hand guiding him inside.  “I can’t believe you out here acting a fuckin fool, shit doesn’t make no sense. I’m getting real sick of the shit,” I heard her say as Jimmy hung his head.

Yeah, he was gon’ have a long day tomorrow groveling. My eyes met Shantell’s as she sighed looking around at everything but me. “Now what you gotta say?” I asked in a harsh tone as I saw Shantell look at me shaking her head in disbelief. “What are you talking about?” Shantell asked looking intently at me.

“Look I see how you lookin’ at me. What you ready to scold me, and judge me like everybody else? Just nagging like my damn wife do,” I accused, as Shantell looked at me in disappointment and sadness.

I knew I was wrong as fuck; and reckless with how I was speaking with her. This is why I hate drinking; I say shit I can’t take back and lines get crossed.

I knew Shantell was bout to let me have it as I watched the emotions play out across her face and I deserved it.

“First of all who the hell you think you talkin’ to? I ain’t yo wife and I damn sure ain’t your woman and even if i was you wouldn't talk to me that way.  All I was going to say is that you don’t need to be putting yourself in situations like that.  Anything could have happened Jey. I could hear ya’ll on my balcony and I just came down to make sure ya’ll were good,” Shantell said as I sighed in defeat and understanding because I couldn’t find the right words to say.

“I really thought after everything that happened last week, you would know that I would never do that to you, or anybody for that matter,” she whispered as I groaned in frustration knowing I had hurt her feelings with my accusations.  

“Shantell I’m sorry,” I started as she cut me off bluntly.” I’m sorry to," she said pausing, rubbing her temples. The silence spoke louder than any words as we both were trying to process the conversation.

 “You know what Jey?  I’m not sorry because as your friend I’m supposed to tell you when you fuckin’ up. You know why…Because that’s what real friends do. So I’m telling you to your face don’t fuck up everything you worked so hard for, do better,” she said as I nodded.  

“Look you right, I gotta do better.  I didn't mean to come at you like that, I’m drunk and I ain’t thinkin’ clearly,” I said as she bit her lip.

“It’s okay, I’m just glad you both got back safe and ya’ll weren’t behind the wheel of a car. I’ll just holla at you later, good night, Josh,” she said walking back inside the hotel.

“Uh! You dumb fuck,” I whispered to myself as I saw her getting on the elevator, my heart dropping to my stomach as I saw her wiping tears from her eyes as the doors on the elevator closed.

"Excuse me, sir, I don’t mean to get in your business but women like that are the ones you don’t take for granted. That’s a real one right there, you betta go make it right young man before you lose her,” the bellhop said as I sighed.

“I will OG, but I want to say I’m sorry bout being loud and everything, just had a lot going on,” I said as he smiled.

“No harm, just take care of yourself,” he said as I shook his hand and began my journey up to Shantell’s room.

Now how the hell was I gon’ make this up to her?

-----

Shantell’s POV

 Shantell save yourself you’re going to get hurt,” I said to myself getting ready for bed as I heard a knock on my door. I knew who it was, and I wasn’t in the mood.

“Go away Jey,” I whispered softly against the door as I heard him mutter something under his breath I couldn’t make out. “What did you say?” I asked hearing him take a deep breath.

“I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry again. I know you were just worried and lookin’ out for me,” he said as I contemplated opening the door.

“Jey, it’s ok just go sleep it off. We’ll talk tomorrow when you’re more sober,” I said as I heard him turn the doorknob. “Shan, can I come in? I just don’t want to end the night like this,” Jey said as I sighed slowly giving in unlocking the door, and letting him in.

 “I’m sorry Shantell, It’ll never happen again,” he whispered taking me in his arms catching me off guard. “It’s ok,” I whispered enjoying being in his arms minus the strong stench of alcohol radiating off of him.

“Do you want some water?” I asked as he pulled away, going straight to my bed kicking off his shoes before laying down. “Nope, I just wanna lay wit you and talk. I don’t want to be alone tonight," he said as his gaze held mine.

"Why do you want to be here?" I whispered softly as Jey smiled at me."I sleep better when I’m wit you,” he said as I rolled my eyes but deep down it made my heart flutter.

“How you got that lil attitude with me a little while ago I should make yo ass go to your own room,” I said as he looked at me with a pout.

“Come on, I said I was sorry Shantell; it won’t happen again;” he said beckoning me with his finger licking his lips. Fuck he’s sexy and the problem is he knows it.

 “I know yo ass better not throw up on me,” I said scrunching up my face is disgust at the thought. “Nah, I can hold my shit, I don’t throw up,” Jey said as he sat up and took off his shirt.

Whoa! What you doin’ Magic Mike?” I asked blushing looking at his beautiful chest and tattoos. “I’m getting ready for bed, you comin’ over here, or do I need to come get you,” Jey said without missing a beat now unbuckling his pants.  His cockiness sending a shiver down my spine.

“Well Mr. I can hold my shit, you need take a shower first if you plan on layin’ in my bed because you stank," I said as he raised an eyebrow at me.

“Oh it’s like dat?" he asked smirking at me, getting outta of bed.

“Yeah, it is, and brush your teeth there’s an extra toothbrush in the bathroom,” I said as he licked his lips.

“You tryin’ to get me all clean, you must tryin’ to take advantage of me,” Jey whispered invading my space as tried to calm my nerves. “Jey go take a shower,” I whispered as I felt his hands wrap around my waist.

“You know what I realized when we were on that trip? Jey asked as I looked at him intently. “What did you realize?” I asked as he pulled me closer.

It was almost like he was having an internal war with himself. “Nothin’ I’ll tell you when the time is right,’ Jey whispered his lips almost grazing my mine as I involuntarily moaned, turning my head before our lips met as his soft lips met my cheek.

“Jey we can’t,” I whispered pulling away as he nodded in agreement. “I know, and I’m sorry I even put you in this type of situation,” Jey said running his fingers through his hair before retreating to the bathroom to shower.

I released the breath I was holding looking at the bathroom door in relief. Yeah, that's definitely the alcohol talking. I knew tonight was going to be a long night for me, but I welcomed it because he was here and he safe.

-------

Monday Night Raw

United Arena, Chicago, IL

Jey’s POV

“Jey it’s fine, stop apologizing, I’m not mad,” Shantell said trying to set up the show monitors as I watched her.

“I just want to make sure I treated you with the upmost respect. I know how I can get when I drink,” I said honestly as she stopped working to look at me.

“What’s the last thing the remember from last night,” she asked as I thought long and hard. “The last thing I remember is you letting me into your room and the rest is a straight blur,” I said trying to rack my brain trying to figure out what happened.

I saw Shantell lower her head and I felt bad instantly and I didn’t even know what I did wrong.

“Did anything happen?” I asked almost scared of the answer as she smiled softly at me. “No, you were a perfect gentleman, so rest easy,” she said rubbing my shoulder.

Shantell’s POV

He didn’t remember that he almost kissed me, I guess that was a good thing even though it stung a little. “I’m glad I behaved; I normally get horny as fuck when I drink,” Jey said as I blushed, playfully hitting his shoulder. “I can’t believe you just said that,” I said laughing as he smiled at me brightly as his phone rang.

“Damn she won’t stop calling. Her lawyer recommended marriage counseling before we make a decision, but I want this divorce,” Jey said looking at me in search of advice and understanding. It’s crazy how in sync we are, it’s almost scary.

“Hey, maybe ya’ll can work it out. Just keep your guard up,” I said rubbing my side. Ok, this pain is getting on my nerves. “Ow, that hurt,” I winced rubbing my side as Jey rubbed my shoulder.

“You alright?” Jey asked as I phone rang again. “Yea, I’m good. You take your call, I got to finish helping the crew get set up for tonight,” I said giving him a quick hug before walking away.

“Candy why you keep calling back to back? I know how to return a call when I ain’t busy. You know I’m at work,” I heard Jey say as I shook my head.  I pray he can walk away from that chaos.

Jey’s POV

“Jey we both agreed to counseling, please just come to a session,” Candy begged as I tried to keep my cool as my lawyer suggested.

“I will let you know when I’m off so we can maybe do a session, but my answer is still the same Candy. I want a divorce,” I said honestly as I saw Shantell helping with the set.

“I just want to make this work, I think we can get back on track,” Candy said as I tried to focus on her what she was saying but Shantell didn’t look right to me. Something was wrong.

“Aye, I’ll call you back later or my lawyer will hit you up,” I said hanging up before she could respond.  The closer I got to Shantell the more I knew I was right. “Hey, you a’ight,” Shantell?” I asked as I seen her eyes began to roll back in her head.  “Aye! Somebody help,” I yelled catching her in my arms, placing her gently on the floor.

“Hey, wake up Shantell,” I encouraged truly scared as Stu kneeled beside me. “Somebody call 911 and go get doc!”  Stu yelled checking Shantell’s pulse. “She’s breathing, thank god,” he whispered as I stroked her hair gently.

“Come on Shantell wake up now, you scaring me,” I whispered as I heard her moan in pain slowly coming to, grabbing her stomach.

Shantell’s POV

This pain has gotten worse, and I can’t hide it anymore. “You ok Shantell, you scared us baby,” Jey said as I tried to get up.

Did he just call me baby? Get it together Shantell, you just scared the shit outta the man.  “I’m ok, just help me get up,” I whispered grabbing my side.

“No, you ain’t ok, now don’t move,” Jey said as the pain became more intense. I tried to control my tears, but the pain was too much.

“It hurts so bad Josh,” I finally cried as he held me in his arms. “Hang on, help is coming. Shan” he said trying to remain strong, but I could tell he was scared.

“What the hell happened?” Joe said running up as I balled up in a ball in Jey’s lap trying any way I could to try to ease the pain. “She passed out and scared the fuck outta me. Now she’s complaining of pain,” Jey said holding me close as Joe pulled out his phone.

“Don’t you dare!” I screamed as Joe shook his head in defiance. I knew who he was about to call.

 “No! I’m calling your mama, and your ass is going to the hospital, “Joe said leaving no room for argument. “Shantell, how long have you been hurting?” Mike asked as I looked at him afraid.

“Come on Shantell tell me sweetie,” he encouraged as another pain hit.

“It’s been off and on for about two weeks I guess,” I groaned as Joe frowned at me. “What the hell you mean two weeks!? Really Shan two weeks,” Joes scolded as I groaned in pain.

“Aye! Uce, she hurtin’, and I know you worried but doin' this ain’t helpin’,” Jey said stopping Joe’s rant.

“I’m gon' step over here and call your mom, I'll be back in a second,” Joe said walking away as I tried to hold it together.

“Joe’s mad at me,” I cried as Jey shushed me. “His ass will be ok, he’s just worried about you. We all worried about you," Jey said holding me tight now he said as the EMTs finally arrived.

Joe’s POV

“Hey, Joey how are you?” Tanya said as I smiled in spite of the situation. “Hey ma,  I’m good. I hate to call you like you but Shantell is sick and before you freak out she seems fine, just havin’ some pain. The EMTs are trying to get her ready to transport her to the hospital,” I said trying to calm her down before she got upset.

“What hospital are they taking her to, I’m about to book a flight to Chicago,” Tanya said as I saw the EMT’s now putting Shantell on a stretcher as Jey came over to me.  “What hospital?” I asked as Jey seemed to be focused on Shantell.

“They takin’ her to Mercy General,” he said as I relayed the message to Tanya. “Joe take care of my baby, I’m on my way,” Tanya said as l released the breath I was holding

“I got her ma, I’ll see you when you get here,” I said falling in line with Jey walking with EMT’s to the ambulance.

“We can allow one rider to come on board.  Does she have anyone to ride with her?” the EMT said as Jey, and I looked at each other. “I’m goin’ wit her," Jey said patting me on the shoulder before I could even get my words together. The ambulance doors slammed shut as Jey climbed in and sat beside shantell, grasping her hand to reassure her he was there.

The sirens blaring made me scared to even think about what was going on in the inside of that ambulance but I hoped Shantell would be ok.

---------

Mercy General Hospital, Chicago, IL

Shantell’s POV

“It’s a good thing you came in Shantell. The problem isn’t appendicitis, it’s your ovaries. Now your right ovary is in horrible condition, and you have adhesions all over your pelvic wall,” the doctor said showing the results.

 “How does this work? I mean what happens to the ovary?” I asked as the doctor. touched my knee in support. “It’s badly damaged, we need to remove it,” he said as felt the tears coming.

“How can you do that, I mean how will I be able to have children?” I asked wiping my tears. “I’m going to be honest with you. It’s going to be very hard for you to have children due to the damage, but I feel we will know more after we get in there,” he said as I nodded not wanting to hear anymore.

I’m damaged, and I probably will never be a mom. “I know it’s a lot, but I promise I will take of you Shantell. We need to move fast;” he said as the nurse came in to administer the medication to get me comfortable before they take me to the OR.

I saw Jey a few steps behind coming to take a seat beside my bed as I tried and miserably failed to keep my tears at bay.

"Are you ok beautiful?" Jey asked as I shook my head yes, wiping the few tears that had escaped.

“You sure you, ok?” Jey asked again, holding my hand as I’m trying to hold it together.

“Well, I’m trying, it’s not every day you’re at work, collapse, and they tell you they need to do emergency surgery to take out one of your ovaries,” I say as Jey leans over wiping my tears away.

“You gon’ be ok,” he reassures me with a smile. His wife is a lucky woman, I hope they work it out their issues. I just appreciate how much of a great friend he’s been to me. He even rode in the ambulance with me here.

“I’m going to be damaged; the doctor says having kids is going to be hard for me,” I say trying to keep my tears at bay.

“You ain’t gon’ be damaged, you everything Shan. A man would be lucky to have you, I mean you could adopt. You can do the thing where you let somebody carry the baby for you,” he says fumbling a little over his words. 

“Well, I’m glad your positive about this,” I say throwing him a small smile. “A few of my family members are adopted, and we love them just the same, they blood, “he whispers kissing my hand.

 “You’re so nice to me,” I say feeling the drugs taking effect, trying to force my eyes to stay open.  “You stuck wit me too, yo' ass is in the family now. He says staring at me smiling lightly.  “Just sleep, everybody will be here when you wake up baby,” Jey says as I finally let sleep take over.

-------

Mercy General Hospital, Chicago, IL

Tanya’s POV

“You really know how to do it up big don’t you. Your last show being an intern for these folks, and you fall yo ass out, on the job,” I said trying to lighten the mood as Shantell shifted in bed trying to get comfortable.

“Oh, you really funny,” Shantell whispered as Joe tried to feed her some Jello. “Joe, I ain’t had no food in almost twelve hours. I’m hungry ya’ll, this ain’t cool,” she whined as Joe snickered. She slowly chewed the jello he placed in her mouth frowning as Joe shook his head at her antics.

 “I sent Jey at you some soup from a deli I saw down the street, so just be patient,” Joe said leaning over, gently kissing Shantell on the forehead as she sighed.

Oh, my goodness, they would be such a cute couple, but Shantell keeps stressing to me they are just friends. I could totally see him being my son-in-law.

“I’m back with the soup ya’ll,” Jey said coming in as Shantell smiled brightly. Now wait a damn minute now….Is she smiling about the food or is she smiling because he’s back?

I didn’t have to wait long for my answer as Joe moved, and Jey took his spot.

“I got you some chicken noodle soup,” Jey said taking the lid of the soup as I looked at my daughter in awe. “Thank you,” Shantell whispered as he began to feed her. The way they interact wit each other ain't fooling me one damn bit.

 Oh, yeah miss thing we gon talk about this one when we get home. It seems I have missed a whole new development.

My baby was in love with Joe’s cousin Jey, and if my mind ain’t playin’ tricks on me he looks just as smitten with her.

What the hell is going on?

Taglist: @reci24 @southerngirl41 @vebner37 @jeyusos-girl

@melaninsugababy @romanreignkisser @bebesobrielo

@arination99 @2-muchsauce @bakugoumarianawrites

@empressdede @alyyaanna @christinabae @anonandwannakeepitthatway @venusesworld

[toasttt11]

cape cod

April 19, 2024

Lucia had her head out of the car window as they drove into Cape Cod, she loved being near the water and the feeling in the air. Her eyes were darting everywhere as John drove them through town she was absolutely loving the town already.

John smiled softly as he watched her look so peaceful as she looked out the window.

John drove them closer to the water and they finally got to his family’s lake house making him pull into the front driveway into their lake house.

Lucia smiled admiring the house in front of her, she thought it was absolutely beautiful and she loved how many bushes of hydrangeas was in the front yard. Lucia could already see herself living in Cape Cod one day.

John got out of the car walking around and opening the passenger door for Lucia to get out before shutting, they both grabbed their bags and headed to the front door walking up the front steps, John unlocked the front door and let Lucia walk into the house.

“I’ll give you a tour in a little bit but i assume you want to go to the water first?” John asked knowing Lucia loves being in the water and he was right when she eagerly nodded.

John led him through the bottom level of the house where his bedroom was and some of the guest rooms, his parents room and a guest room was on the second floor with the dinning room, a living room and the kitchen and Paul’s room was on the third floor with a mother guest room up there.

John had picked his room when he was very young and his parents bought the house, he liked the bottom floor as it had its own living room and it had the back doors out to the back yard and a large deck that looks at the water.

John opened his bedroom door letting Lucia walk in and set her bags down on the floor.

“Swimming?” Lucia looked at him eagerly as she asked.

“Course.” John smiled fondly at his partner as he grabbed his swim shorts and opened the bathroom door letting Lucia go in to change and he changed in the bedroom.

John sat on the bed waiting for her to come out and he looked up as she walked out and his breath got caught in his throat, She was wearing a very small blue and white bikini.

It was the most skin John has ever seen and she looked so gorgeous he had to think of anything to not get distracted.

“Johnny?” Lucia softy called and slightly smirked seeing his eyes trying to not look at her body, something that really warmed her heart.

“Come on.” John took a deep breath and got up walking over to her, He smirked slighty and put his arms under her thighs and picked her up making her squeal and wrap her legs around his waist tight and her arms linking around his next.

“What are you doing?” Lucia laughed as she held onto her partner, no boy has ever picked her up besides her brothers when she was younger but for most of her life she has always been taller than everyone so no one every picked her up, but John who is only an inch taller picked her up with complete ease.

“Holding my girl.” John cheekily answered as he walked through the bottom floor to the back doors and walked out and down towards the dock. Lucia smiled softly and held onto him.

“Ready?” John softly asked pressing a kiss to her cheek as he got to the end of the dock, Lucia nodded and John jumped into the water with her still in his arms.

Lucia and John came back up from under the water and Lucia smiled softly as she swam closer to him and wrapped her legs back around his waist and brushed some of his wet hair away from his forehead and cupped his cheek with her hand and gently rubbed his cheekbone.

“Thank you for taking me here.” Lucia softly whispered to him leaning close to him she could see every single freckle on his face.

“Thank you for coming.” Jack whispered back just as softly.

Lucia smiled and pressed her lips to him her fingers running through his wet curly hair.

Lucia and John stayed in the Cape for five days spending all of their time together and alone.

Going to the beach many times, to see the sunrise, go swimming, seeing the sunsets together.

They cooked a lot together at the lake house and it was really enjoyable for both of them.

Riding bikes together around town and exploring different areas as John told her of his memories in different areas.

They went to a few different towns close by exploring those as well and Lucia bought many souvenirs and gifts.

Went on a few late night ice cream runs and Lucia had some of the best ice cream she has ever had in her life.

Slept in together just cuddling in bed as they listened to the peace and silence with only chirping birds and the ripples of the lake.

Going on evening walks together around the neighborhood letting Lucia see all of the houses nearby and all the beautiful flowers in everyone’s yards.

They took the sail boat out for one full day and sailed around for a few hours before they anchored and had a little date lunch together, John taught Lucia how to sail and she basically sailed all the way back on her own.

John reading to Lucia some of his favorite books that he keeps at the lake house so he can reread them when he is there and Lucia found she completely relaxes listening to John read to her.

John got Lucia a beautiful sapphire necklace that she absolutely adores and has not taken off since she got it.

Lucia absolutely fell in love with Cape Cod and could not wait until she came back.

And sadly their trip was over and John drove Lucia to the airport so she could go home for a few days before she headed out to Worlds in Prague.

luciathemoose posted

liked by rowdykcaj, qballer, zmoney and 19 others.

luciathemoose 🌞🌺

posted april 24, 2023

comments

rowdykcaj you could of been home but nooooo☹️

luciathemoose shush i’ll be home tomorrow you big baby

dyldylpickle when she goes on a trip instead of seeing her best friends 😶😔

ethannnnnn betrayed by our best friend.

papaestapa 😔☹️🥺😔☹️😶😔☹️😶

luciathemoose shush you drama queens

fridge you went to the capeeeeeeee!?!??

luciathemoose yes

fridge without me 🥺

qballer you look beautiful little sister 🥺

luciathemoose thanks quinny 🙃

[cherry-velvet-skies]

Feeling Two-Foot Small (Part 2)

Tiny!Paul McCartney x Tiny!Reader

Genre: Fluff with a sprinkle of intimacy here and there

Warnings: Some kissing and mention of nudity but nothing too crazy

Words: 3.5k

A/N: If you have not read Part 1 yet, please read that first for this to make sense! Also, there's a bit of canon divergence at the end but it's fine

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The remainder of the day was spent with you and Paul skateboarding around your house, hiding under tables and couches, while occasionally sneaking back to your room in an attempt to grab a fruit snack or pretzel stick without getting caught. The game only had to end because it was getting dark, and since neither of you could reach a light switch, the rooms soon became pitch black. You, unfortunately, didn’t have any doll-sized flashlights, and you both realized this could get dangerous when Paul tried to run away from you and only succeeded in running directly into a leg of your kitchen table.

“Do you think the swelling has gone down yet?” Paul groaned as he stumbled back to the socks you two were using as a couch. “My head feels like it’s pounding.”

“I’m not sure,” you replied, “on account of the fact that I can’t even see you!” The sun had fully set now, and there was no hope for either of you finding any light sources, much less being able to see a mere hand in front of your face. It was as if you two were walking around with your eyes shut. The best thing to do was just to stay in your room and wait until morning.

“I wish I could see your face.” Paul chuckled, reaching out his hand that wasn’t massaging his forehead. You had a similar idea, blindly flailing your own arms until your hands brushed each other in the darkness. You both yelped, not expecting it, but quickly searched again until they voluntarily rejoined. You smiled as Paul rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand. You were quite grateful in that moment that he couldn’t see how hard you were blushing, but then again, you couldn’t tell if he was doing it too.

“I would reach for your face right now, but I don’t want to poke you in the eye.” You stated, punctuating your statement with a giggle. Paul took your hand that he was holding and guided it up to his cheek. You stroked the soft skin there, feeling the minute layer of stubble near his jaw. Paul closed his eyes, although it didn’t matter if he did, but it was merely a factor of immersing himself in the feeling. Adopting a more relaxed attitude, you gently cupped his cheek and traveled higher, finding the small bump on his forehead. You attempted to move him closer so you could place a kiss atop the bruise, but the lack of lighting made you miss and instead planted a kiss right on his eyelid.

“Oh, sorry.” You laughed awkwardly.

“If I had bumped my eye into the table, you’d be golden.” Paul teased. He reached for your hand again, sensing that you tried to pull it away after being discouraged by your incorrectly placed kiss. “But this is nice though,” he continued, “just hanging out here.” You gave him a look of confusion, until you realized he couldn’t see it.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, for me, the last couple of days have been pretty odd. Like I mentioned earlier, with the whole sacrifice thing. But it’s not only that, you know! Aside from trying to save one of my mates from having his head chopped off, he’s got these scientists after him too! They want his ring so they could sell it and get a fortune for it, but the ring is actually the reason why he’s due to be sacrificed!” Although Paul’s expression wasn’t visible, you could tell this was going to take a while. “He actually wants to get rid of the ring, you know, but the problem is he can’t get it off. And that’s why we needed the shrinking serum! But then the doorbell rang and the woman who was administering it dropped the needle and it ended up in my leg and now here I am!”

You stood quiet, unsure of how to approach this. What ring? Who are these scientists? Is this the same woman he was mentioning earlier? Who knew a dream could feel so real. If this was any indication of the inner workings of your subconscious, you considered getting yourself evaluated.

“That does sound like some crazy stuff.” You tried, hoping to trick your brain into changing the subject. Thankfully, it worked. There was a brief moment of silence between you two, and while that normally wouldn’t have been so bad, the pitch darkness surrounding you sent your brain straight into the realm of horror stories. In your mind, complete silence and complete darkness should never go together.

“It’s far too quiet in here,” Paul huffed, his voice carrying a hint of wariness, “Can we just talk about something else already?” Your eyes widened. It was like he read your mind! Oh, wait. You had to keep reminding yourself that all of this WAS in your mind.

“Sorry,” you apologized again, though you realized it wasn’t necessary, “I’m still just thinking about how I kissed your eyeball.” Your face scrunched as you relived the incident in your mind.

Paul chuckled to himself. “Maybe you should’ve aimed for something else then.”

You froze, pondering his statement. You were almost certain you knew what he was hinting at, but didn’t want to make any assumptions. Paul had no problem assuming you didn’t get the hint, so he clarified himself.

“Have you ever heard the theory that two people can find each other’s lips in complete darkness with nearly one-hundred percent accuracy?”

You felt yourself choke on your spit when you gulped. You weren’t sure if he was just making a flirty joke, or actually suggesting that you two kiss. How could he possibly insinuate something like that when you two only met for the first time this morning?

Oh, right! This is only a dream! It’s all in your mind! That also means you never really kissed someone’s eyeball by mistake. You felt your confidence returning. Well, if none of this is real, surely a little kiss couldn’t hurt.

“Are you suggesting we test it out?” You fired back, your boldness now purely compensatory.

“As a matter of fact, I was.” Paul replied. The smirk he was wearing while delivering his comment was practically audible.

You giggled before grabbing his hand again. “Then let the experiment begin.” 

Guiding Paul’s arm closer to you, you took this opportunity to instead rest his hand on your cheek. You didn’t really know where to go from there, as you obviously still couldn’t see. And Paul’s hand was the only thing that you were certain you could find. What would happen if you blindly tried to reach forward again? Would you make out with his left nostril this time instead?

As you were silently contemplating your approach, you felt Paul’s hot breath against your face, signaling he was coming closer. Within seconds, you felt his lips make contact with not only your face, but your lips, your top lip nestled firmly in between both of his, using this opportunity to suck on your bottom lip as he kissed you. You still closed your eyes, even though it wasn’t necessarily needed, but it still felt right.

Using your adequate proximity skills, you slowly brought your hands up to cup his cheeks, stroking them with your thumbs. Paul sighed, and you could’ve sworn you heard him trail off into a whimper, but weren’t completely sure. Your hands moved from his cheeks to the back of his neck to pull him closer, running your fingers through his hair. Feeling the texture of Paul’s silky hair while you kissed him was enough to stimulate your senses to a more optimal level. Or, at least you thought it was optimal. It didn’t feel like a dream anymore. It all felt so real. Too real.

Your eyes shot open and you hastily pulled away, much to Paul’s surprise. “What’s wrong?” He asked you, immediate tension apparent in his voice. “Did you not like it?”

“I…I don’t know.” You replied quietly. “It wasn’t you, I just…I don’t know.” You crossed your arms, desperately trying to crawl away from this awkward situation. 

“Perhaps I came on too strong then, yeah?” Paul mumbled, silently fidgeting as well. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” You felt bad. It wasn’t Paul’s fault. After all, you were the one who created him in your mind.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I was okay with it at first, but then…I don’t know what happened. It didn’t feel right.” You couldn’t properly explain yourself, and that was always your downfall. You felt uneasy, but couldn’t pinpoint why. In fact, Paul’s kiss was actually quite nice. There was just something about the whole thing that wasn’t sitting right with you.

It was too quiet again. But what was left to talk about? It seemed that anything you both tried, something was bound to thicken the air. It felt like even in your dreams, things couldn’t go well. You gave up.

“Maybe we should just go to sleep.” You stated. Paul didn’t respond, although he wanted to try and work things out. He didn’t want to ruin things with his new friend. Possibly even more than a friend. But definitely not at this rate. He thought it was wrong to keep the statement left open, so he added a meek reply.

“Alright, then.”

You weren’t sure what to do for sleeping arrangements. The floor was too hard to sleep on, and you knew your back would pay the price the following morning. But there was absolutely no way you felt like ascending your pant leg fire pole up to your bed right now. There had to be some kind of compromise.

Seeing no other option, you blindly felt your way down to the sock couch that you and Paul had been sitting on this entire time, pulling the top sock off of the bottom one. Paul heard you doing all this, but had no clue what was going on. He felt a breeze across his body when you tossed one sock towards him. “Here, take this to sleep in.”

“Sleep in?” Paul clarified, wondering if he’d misheard you. “But this is a sock.”

“Well now it’s a sleeping bag.” You said nonchalantly, slipping off your plastic shoes and getting comfy in your sock. “It’s all I have.”

“But you’ve worn these!” Paul exclaimed. “I’m not sleeping INSIDE of it!”

“Good luck freezing all night, then.” You quipped, knowing he'd give in eventually.

Paul put his hands on his hips. “But it’s the middle of May. It’s not cold.” You felt yourself stretching the elastic of the sock to restrain yourself from getting more annoyed.

“Well I don’t have any tiny little blankets lying around, so your only other option is to sleep on the floor. You wanna wake up stiff as a board tomorrow? Fine. Not my problem.”

Paul giggled. “I think that might happen regardless of where I sleep, love.”

“JUST GO TO BED!” You huffed, while Paul was still snickering to himself as he tried to get cozy on top of the sock.

The night went slow. You couldn’t sleep. Perhaps it was because you were technically already dreaming? So falling asleep inside your dream seemed counterintuitive. At one point, a small strip of moonlight had made its way through the small gap in your curtains, which were still shut since you were too short to open them this morning. Now that you could see a bit better, you glanced over at Paul, who was sound asleep. He was laying on his stomach, his arms stretched out in front of him, creased at the elbow to support his head. The lower half of his body was reluctantly nestled inside the sock. You assumed he got cold and conceded to the sleeping bag, seeing as he was trying to keep his body as far away from the toe pocket as possible. Despite your earlier misunderstanding, Paul seemed comfortable around you as if he had known you for years. He looked so peaceful. Perhaps that was your method. This Paul character you had created in your dream was the picture of everything you wanted. Confidence, optimism, and peacefulness. You gave it all to him, while you, the true human, were still stuck with all the worries. Your brain was quite the tricky one.

You zoned in on the tranquil rhythm of Paul’s breathing, pulling your sock tighter towards your body like a cocoon. You smiled to yourself, trying to reabsorb some of Paul’s innate tranquility. You could feel the background noise slowly become more muffled as you drifted off into a deep sleep.

When you awoke the following morning, you were cold. You felt the brisk morning air pass over your whole body with ease. Perhaps you had wriggled out of your sock in the middle of the night and ended up on the floor, as you felt the hard wood below with a much greater intensity than you did the previous night. What surprised you the most was a single area of your back that felt…oddly warm. You opened your eyes, only to immediately shut them again, feeling incredibly disoriented. You curled your body into a fetal position, plastering your hands over your face to stop your head from swimming. You didn’t drink, but yet you felt hungover. If what happened to you last night was actually a dream, is it possible for you to still be reeling from it? You kept your eyes closed, trying to sit up as slowly as possible. You felt the way your skin creased and folded as you sat upright on the floor. Yep, you were definitely naked.

Trying to open your eyes again, you prepared for the immediate influx of stimulation. You stared at the window, hoping the soft light from the sun behind the curtains would give your eyes something more palatable to focus on. You watched as your surroundings slowly became clearer. And judging by the visual perspective of your bedroom, you were back to normal size. 

You laid back on the floor, breathing a sigh of relief that the weirdest dream of your life was now over. Until you felt that odd warmth beside you again, followed by a raspy voice.

“I guess the serum wore off, then.”

Oh, no.

You look over to see Paul, also completely naked, laying on the floor beside you, one arm propping up his head as he wore a huge smirk on his face. Not knowing how else to react, you screamed, causing him to scrunch his face as he had just woken up. You tried your best to cover yourself with your hands, but didn’t have much luck.

“What are you doing here?!” You shrieked, now glaring down at the array of busted open socks and doll clothes wedged underneath the both of you. Last night was, apparently, not a dream.

“I didn’t do anything, I swear!” Paul exclaimed, holding his hands up as if to say he was innocent, only for his head to hit the floor with a thunk, as there was now no hand to hold it up. He winced, rubbing the back of his head dejectedly. “Ow.”

You were trying hard not to stare at Paul’s body, but you had to admit, he had a very attractive figure. If one thing was for sure, Paul was absolutely right about the whole “waking up stiff” thing…

“Wait, so yesterday…that was real..?” You mumbled, wondering if you were still actually dreaming. Maybe you were stuck in a perpetual dream loop. Perhaps you had left your physical body and this is where you’d be for all eternity.

“What do you mean if it was real?” Questioned Paul, “Didn’t you hear my whole story about the serum? And the ring? Did you think I made that up? Which reminds me, I should probably get going, so…do you have any clothes I could wear out of here?”

Your gaze darted around the room, looking for, honestly, anything. Firstly, some clothes for you, much less for Paul. But also for answers. Even if Paul’s story was true, which was highly unlikely, that still doesn’t explain why you shrunk too. Were you given a phantom dose of serum in the middle of the night by a different mysterious woman? None of this made sense. You were just about to get up when Paul spoke again.

“You know, even if you don’t believe anything I said, I hope you’ll know I’m being honest when I say I enjoyed our time yesterday.” You turned to look at him, your expression one of confusion. “Being that small and all, I felt…helpless. I felt like anyone could just step on me if they wanted to. Or…lift me up and take me away. I never expected to find someone that understood what I was going through. And for that I’ll always be grateful.”

And that’s when it hit you. Being small wasn’t a curse or a punishment. It was a teachable moment. An opportunity to remind you that, no matter how big or small you were, you weren’t alone. Even as you always felt that you had to navigate around all the big people who you were afraid would step on you, there was someone out there who knew how you felt. Who you were meant to meet. Having to make yourself small to make space for others wasn’t a problem anymore when you met someone who gladly made enough space for the both of you.

“I…enjoyed it too,” You replied slowly, “And I do believe your story, Paul. As for how I ended up like that, we may never know. But it was fun to have someone to play with all day.” You chuckled, and Paul joined you as you both reminisced of your rather impressive game of hide and seek.

Paul sat up, reaching for your hand that was trying its best to cover your chest. He took it in his own as you let it fall from your body. You saw things differently now that you understood. This entire journey had been a confusing one, but you hoped that this was the beginning of a new chapter in your life. One where you looked at not only the world with a bit more kindness and optimism, but also yourself.

Paul guided your hand to pull you closer as he captured your lips in a sweet kiss. This time, you felt calmer, and more accepting of what was to come. You dropped your other hand from concealing your lower half to softly grasp his shoulder. You sighed into the kiss, feeling your lips melt as his tongue pushed past them. You lightly pressed on his shoulder, leading him to lay back on the floor as you lay on top of him, your hands threading in his dark brown hair while his rested on your lower back. There was no sexual tension to it. No desire to grope at various areas of the body. It was content. Peaceful and romantic. It was the sweetest kiss you ever had.

You both laid there for a while, no rush to go anywhere or do anything. Except for the two minute break you took to get dressed, as you were starting to get chilly again. You took the liberty of loaning Paul one of your oversized hoodies along with some sweatpants, which fit him perfectly. Although, not knowing when you’d see each other again, you think that Paul might just own those clothes now. You were just about to resume your kissing session when you saw Paul do a frantic double take out your bedroom window.

“There they are!” He squealed. “Look!” You tried to see what he was referring to, and sure enough, there were three guys walking down the street. Two taller ones, and one who was a bit shorter, who was wearing a huge and borderline tacky ruby ring on his left hand. They were all dressed in dark suits, all with similar haircuts, all calling out Paul’s name. You couldn’t believe it. Paul was actually telling the truth.

“Sorry to bolt, but if I don’t leave now, I’ll never catch up to them.” He said, stamping a quick kiss on your cheek before running to your front door. “Hope to see you again soon!” He called out before closing the door behind him. You managed to hear a muffled “wait up guys!” as he headed down the street. You stayed by the window to watch his three friends turn around, ecstatic to see him. One of the taller ones grabbed him by the hand as they all continued to run until they reached the end of the block, all piling in one car before taking off again. You smiled to yourself as you headed to the kitchen, thankful for what was probably the strangest yet most comforting moment of your life.

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PART 2 Y'ALL FINALYYY 😁😁😁 And yes obviously this is the final part but this fic was so fun to write! Let me know if y'all wanna see more stuff referencing the Beatle movies, and I have two other fics still in the works so I'll try and have those up as soon as I can! 🥰

[reinarandraw]

"Why do you cut your hair?"

OFMD Rare Pair Week 2023 @ofmdrarepairweek

Day 07:   Free Day [Art + Fic 700 words]

The reason why I draw my old Sam Bellamy with short hair instead of long hair. It can be seen as a missing scene for The Last Voyage.

Ao3 link [HERE]

You can click read more and read it here!

Izzy had been working as Sam's first mate for a while now. He really enjoyed working for the man because he was always clear with his direction and goal. He valued Izzy's input and never dismissed his concern. He never played guessing games or played tricks on him. Izzy liked how Sam could separate business from pleasure. Sex didn't have any real effect on their professional relationship. Izzy really appreciated how structured Sam was so ready to do anything to help Sam.

One thing that he was required to do was cut Sam's hair. Sam had thick straight hair that would be a hassle if he kept it long. Well, Sam used to have his hair long. Edward also had long hair and beard, but he was an outlier. Izzy respected Sam's decision to keep his hair short even though deep down he thought long hair really suited Sam. He remembered seeing young Sam - pre Whydah - and his glorious long black hair. That was how he got his nickname Black Sam. Sam Bellamy and his long black hair.

He wondered how Sam would look now with longer hair. The man had a peculiar gray hair pattern that was concentrated on his bangs. Sam's hair was also strangely healthy and soft despite the fact they were on a pirate ship. Izzy really enjoyed running his fingers through Sam's hair during sex. It felt like silk.

Would Sam be even hotter with his long hair framing his face? He tried to imagine Sam leaning to the bulwark as he pushed some loose hair strand away from his face. Izzy found himself hot and bothered by his own imagination.

So one day, when Sam asked him to cut his hair, Izzy dared himself to ask him a question.

"Why do you cut your hair?" 

The question caught Sam off guard. "For practical reasons. It's hot here and I don't really want people to know that I'm still alive."

Fair enough. "Long hair didn't bother you much when you were young."

Sam took a moment to think about how to answer that. Sam tried not to keep any secret from Izzy. He seemed reluctant to do it. There must be a good reason for the hairstyle change. 

"Three things," Sam suddenly said. "First, to make me less recognizable. Second, hair loss. Long hair is making me lose more hair.  It became gradually worse over time. I don't think I can pull a bald look like Paul. Would you still like me if I'm bald?"

"Shut up," Izzy snorted, smiling.

"And third," Sam continued, "I can't tell you. It's between me and the sea."

Although he was still smiling, there was something melancholic in Sam's eyes. The palpable sadness tugged something in Izzy's chest, making him want to protect this man from any harm that would come his way. 

“It’s not like I don’t trust you,” Sam continued. “It’s just…”

“Yeah, ok,” Izzy cut him. If Sam wanted to keep it a secret then it was his choice. He could take care of his captain without knowing all his secrets. The fact that Sam allowed him to cut his hair was enough to prove that he trusted him. “When do you want me to cut your hair?”

It wasn't until that time Sam told him about the dark days he had after Whydah that Izzy finally learned Sam cut his hair during one of his breakdowns. His long hair reminded him of his failure. His once pride and joy now brought him terror to his heart. He blamed himself. The guilt tormented him. Sam cut his hair to help him get through the guilt of being the only survivor.

"Do you like me better with long hair?" Sam asked one day when Izzy was cutting his hair.

Izzy's put the scissors away. "Would you like to grow it back?"

Sam didn't say anything at first. "I don't know."

Izzy put a hand on Sam's shoulder and leaned down to kiss Sam on the top of his head. "Do what you want with your hair. I don't care."

Sam snorted. "Even when I go bald?"

Izzy chuckled. "Yeah. I bet you're still hot with a bald head."

Sam reached out to touch Izzy's hand. "Thank you, Israel."

Sam probably wouldn't grow his hair back anytime soon, but who knew? Maybe one day, when the wound had healed completely, Black Sam would have his long beautiful hair once more.

[sweet-lemon]

Little Vixen Pt.7

Pt. 6, Pt. 8

This took longer than I expected, but I kept going back and changing it. I finally got it to a point that I like. I hope you like it!

Reader POV

The man before you grinned as his eyes followed Emily’s running form. Before he had the chance to chase after her you were already shifting and charging at him.

As soon as he saw your form coming at him, he turned towards the woods. Almost like chasing after him was all a game. Not this time, you would make sure this was his last day in Forks. That thought alone seemed to make you faster and more focused.

It felt as if seconds had passed as you closed the distance. He was about to jump into the branches above until you crashed into him. Slamming your whole body into his side.

This caught him off guard and made him forget about trying to run. Instead he turned all of his attention on you. It was a stale mate as you both circled each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

This gave you time to really look at him. His skin was somehow paler than the other vampires you had seen. His red eyes more manic than the deep burgundy of the older ones. He didn’t look newborn but the erratic energy you were getting from him confused you.

“Who are you?” You asked.

“Branislav.” He said as he held his hand over his chest and tipped his head down. His accent and name sounding foreign and antiquated at the same time.

“What are you doing here?” You tried again, not liking his one-word answer.

“Enjoying the festivities as you were.” The grin on his face spread wider.

“For someone who’s sure to have seen many festivals in their lifetime a small town like this must seem boring.”

“Not at all, the food is particularly good.”

“Well I’m afraid the food is no longer available. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

“I’m sorry my dear, a friend has requested my services. Thus, I must extend my stay.”

“And who would this friend be?”

“A beautiful woman with red hair as lively as your fur.”

You immediately knew he was talking about the vampire you had seen before. Her red curls descending the cliff flashed through you mind. If Paul hadn’t stopped you, you would have jumped after her.

“What kind of services do you provide?” You asked.

The chuckle that reverberated from his chest seemed to expand out of his body and surround you. You closed your eyes to try and shake that echo in your head, but when you opened them a second later he vanished right in front of you.

Quickly looking around the trees you tried to spot him. You thought he must have run off again until you felt a shiver run through your body. You felt his breath ghost over your right ear before his voice followed.

“My services…” His soft whisper somehow making your body freeze in place. “..could be compared to a psychiatrist.” He chuckled once again, though this time you felt it reverberate through your head until it was pounding against your brain.

“Except, I can do whatever I want with your mind.” The dull pounding against your brain seemed to shatter a barrier at his last word.

Suddenly your eyes were blurring, and your hearing was dulling. In seconds all of your senses were shutting down and the world around you had disappeared.

In a panic you didn’t know what to do but call out for help. There was only one person you had started to look up to, started to trust, started to see as your alpha.

“Sam!”

______

Wolf pack POV

They managed to snatch two picnic tables that were placed by one another. They would be able to seat everyone and eat in peace. Sam, Paul and Jared took a seat while everyone else went to get everyone something to eat.

“So did you ask her out yet?” Jared asked.

“What?” Paul asked a bit bothered by the question.

“You guys looked like you were having a lot of fun back there. I just figured you asked her out already.” Jared replied nonchalant.

Sam just nodded his head in agreement. He had seen how close Paul and [Y/n] were getting. Even if [Y/n] didn’t know about the imprint it still meant that they were bound to be close. Be that as friends or something more, they were supposed to be in each other’s lives.

“No, I didn’t ask her out.” Paul grumbled out.

“Aww, why not?” Jared continued.

Sam was ready to step in and stop Jared’s teasing. It was one thing to get Paul riled up in the privacy of his cabin, but out in public was a dangerous line to cross. He was about to ask Jared to calm it down until he notices Paul’s frustration fade and his shoulders sag.

“I just… I don’t know. You guys heard her talk about how she imprinted with her old pack. What if…” Paul seemed to be thinking if he should voice his concern out loud.

“What is it Paul?” Sam asked trying to understand his friends’ feelings.

“What if she imprints on someone else? What if I’m not her soul mate?” He answered quietly almost like he was ashamed about his worries.

“Paul, imprinting is a hard thing to understand. I loved Leah, I thought she was going to be the girl I would marry and spend the rest of my life with. We don’t get to choose who we love or what our imprint means to that person. All we can do is hope for the best and try to do right by that person.” Sam answered the best he could.

He knew it was a hard subject to get into. He still hated how much he had hurt Leah, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. Emily was everything to him. He would do anything for her.

Just as he was deep in thought about his imprint he caught sight of her running towards him. He instantly got up and met her halfway, Jared and Paul close behind them. The look on her face alerting him to danger.

“Emily, what’s wrong?” He asked as soon as he reached her.

“The vampire is here… [Y/n]’s with them.” She managed to breath out.

Jared went to alert the others as Paul and Sam ran out to the parking lot. The farther out towards the parking lot they went the heavier the stench of death became. It wasn’t long before they found the dead body behind the cars.

Sam took one look at the body and immediately began scanning the trees lining the woods nearby. He saw a dent in the bushes and new they had gone in that direction. With Paul behind him and the others not far behind he shifted as soon as he entered the darkness of the woods.

As soon as his paws landed on the leaf covered ground a voice he had only heard in human form rang through his mind.

“Sam!”

He instantly sprinted into action. It seemed like his body knew where he was going before he did. Paul followed him without question. The clear worry written all over his face.

It wasn’t long before they spotted bright red fur shining through the trees. Sam was racing towards her until Paul blocked his path.

“Wait! Something’s not right.” Paul said looking back at the fox shifter.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked looking at her as well.

“I don’t know something just doesn’t feel right.” She was standing still and blankly staring out into the woods. Almost like she was in a trance.

“Paul I heard her; she needs our help.” Sam didn’t understand Paul’s hesitation.

“You heard her?” He asked, confusion lacing his every word.

Sam was about to answer him when he heard the others running towards them. Leah came up to them puzzled at their stance away from [Y/n].

“Why are you just standing here?” She asked.

“Something’s off.” Paul rushed to say. Though he was too late as he saw Embry almost crash into the fox.

“Hey are you okay?” Embry asked taking a step back from her.

The way she slowly turned to face him sent a chill down everyone’s spine. Her eyes had lost their [y/e/c] hue and instead a smoky white peered out towards them. She gave out a warning growl, but in Embry’s confusion he just stood in front of her.

“Embry get back!” Sam called out to him. Paul was right something was wrong with her.

Embry jerked his head to the side to look at Sam. The sudden movement had set her off. The snarl that took over her face was more animalistic than they’d ever seen her. It was like her human side was gone and the animal had taken over.

Her snarl grew pulling her ears back and finally lowering her body into a crouch. She was ready to attack at any second.

Sam took a risk and slowly approached her. Once she spotted him her snarl deepened and she growled his way. He lowered himself to her level and kept his eyes locked on hers as he moved in front of Embry.

“[Y/n]” He called out to her. There was a jerk of familiarity in her face before it quickly disappeared.

“She can’t really hear you my friend.” A voice called out from above them.

Sam dared to take his eyes off her form to look up. In the trees a blond man wearing all black glanced down at them.

“What did you do to her?” Paul growled positioning himself under the man.

“Nothing yet.” He called out jumping onto another branch. “It’s not your pack that I’m after.”

“Who then?” Sam asked.

“That small brunette. Apparently she is the reason for the death of my friend’s mate.” He replied in a cool manner. “With you all here Victoria has nothing to worry about.”

Sam knew Jacob was still with Bella, but he wouldn’t be able to catch the vampire if she tried running again. He jerked his head towards Leah and Seth wordlessly asking them to catch up to Jacob and Bella.

“Tsk tsk, bad choice. You won’t be able to get both of us if your pack is separated.”

“Then we’ll just have to kill you before we kill your friend.” Paul growled still positioned to attack.

The blond man chuckled before jumping onto the next tree branch and began making his way through the tree branches. Paul sprang into action to chase after him but was shoved out of the way by a mass of red fur.

“What are you doing?” Sam called out to her. It looked like she heard him but that only made her charge in his direction.

“Don’t lose him, I’ll take care of her.” He called out to them. The others ran out to follow the order, but Paul hesitated.

“I won’t hurt her.” Sam called out to him. With a jerky nod Paul began running in the direction of the vampire.

“[Y/n], I know you can hear me.” He tried talking to her. They were circling each other now waiting for the other to slip up. “You called out my name, I heard you.”

Her eyes that were tracking his every move suddenly looked lost. The look vanished instantly just like before. The small moment of hesitation seemed to frustrate her to the point of lunging in his direction.

He dodged away from her as much as he could. She was focused on his every move and began to notice what he was doing. When he went to dodge her next attack she moved to tackle him from the other side.

Once she was on top of him it was hard to get away. His arms were much longer and were the only thing keeping her from biting into his flesh. Her fangs were sharp and dripping saliva onto the fur of his neck.

When she tried pushing her weight down to chomp at his flesh he used the momentum to flip them over and pin her down. It didn’t matter to her in her feral state. She was still snarling and trying to bite at anything near her.

“[Y/n]!” He growled using his alpha tone. That managed to grab her attention.

For just a split second the white covering her eyes appeared to fade. Suddenly she used strength he didn’t know she had to shove him off. She began to charge at him again, the feral look back on her face.

______

The vampire must have thought they were a joke because it didn’t take long for them to catch up to him. He would stop every once in a while to mock them.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Paul grunted as he jumped from the boulders the vampire had just passed.

“We need to catch him first.” Jared called out.

“We could split up and corner him.” Quil said running beside them.

Jared nodded as he split off to run further north. Quil and Embry veered south, and Paul stayed on course to make sure he didn’t lose sight of him.

“What’s wrong little volk, did your friends leave you?” He taunted from a cliff side.

Paul growled and started to climb the slope of the cliff. He began running alongside the leech on a lower ridge. Paul was growling and snarling anything to keep his attention on him.

He could hear the vampire laughing all the while. It was when the laughing was abruptly cut short that Paul knew Jared had caught up.

The vampire jumped over him towards the trees below the ridge. Before he could make it to the branches Embry and Quil sprang out of the woods each one biting onto an arm.

Paul jumped down from the ridge with Jared right behind him. The vampire was cursing in his native tongue as he struggled between the two wolves.

Paul walked up to him and pressed his weight down on the pale man’s chest. The rough cracking of his arms being ripped off rang through the air. The man’s yell thundered even louder as he started writhing on the ground. Paul leaned forward snarling in his face.

“Stop! If you kill me now your friend will never return to normal.” He cried out trying to save his pathetic life.

It was Paul’s turn to laugh at the man. “We know that your powers stop working as soon as you die.” He said as he held him down with all his weight.

Jared positioned himself in front of them and easily tore the head off his body. The stiff body, discarded arms, and emotionless head looked like every other vampire they had killed before.

They were about to gather the pieces together to move on to the next step of disposing the leech. As soon as the pieces were close though a weird smoke began rising from the body. The smell that lifted into the air was worse than death.

The four boys took a step back wrinkling their noses from the stench. Confused and disgusted they watched as the smoke started bubbling on the crystal skin that peeked out from his tattered clothes.

“What the fuck is going on?” Embry asked.

“I’ve never seen this before.” Jared replied.

Before anything else could happen the smoke around the body thickened. It quickly enveloped them in a thick fog blinding them from their surroundings.

“Jared?” Paul called out. The only response he got from the fog was a rumbling chuckle.

“Did you really think it would be that easy to kill me?” A dark silhouette asked from the gray mist. It stepped closer but the only thing that became visible was a wide grin. The sharp white teeth taunting him.

Paul lunged at the figure, but it seemed like he didn’t move an inch. The figure was the same distance it had been a second ago.

“Uh-uh little volk, it doesn’t work like that.” It said wagging a dark finger in the mist. “Tell that little foxy I will see her soon.” It said as it stepped back disappearing into the gray nothingness.

At the mention of a fox Paul felt his anger rise. He chased after the figure in the fog determined to sink his teeth into him.

It felt like he ran a mile until he saw a figure close in front of him. Without thinking he rammed his whole weight into the figure.

“Wow Paul calm down.” He heard Jared’s voice call out.

The fog around him began to evaporate as the figure began to turn into a chocolate-colored wolf.

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked stepping off Quil.

“Yeah, are you?” Quil asked back.

_____

Reader POV

You could see everything you were doing. The way Sam was avoiding your attacks and holding you back when you managed to pin him down, made you upset. You tried to stop, tried to get control of your body.

The muscles on your body tightened before you sprang towards a tree. The bark scraped against your paws as you used it ricochet your body towards Sam. He wasn’t able to move out of the way, instead he twisted his body using your own weight against you. You could feel the sting of rocks and exposed roots digging into your side. Sam’s weight settling over you.

You were so tired. You didn’t want to move, but your body jerked against him. You mouth snarling and biting in his direction.

“[Y/n]!” He called out your name again. Every time he called out to you an invisible force in your chest lurched towards him.

Your fox wanted to submit to the alpha and follow his orders. Yet the sensation was quickly yanked back by another force. It felt like an invisible hand had a hold on your soul and yanked it in the opposite direction.

Another surge of energy rushed through you like a zap of lightning. You were about to push him off when your body suddenly went limp.

You didn’t care that Sam was still on top of you. You used the control you regained over your body to take a deep breath. It was almost like you were hyperventilating as you tried to calm your body down from the unusual adrenaline that still coursed through you.

“[Y/n]?” Sam asked as he slowly began to move away from you.

“Yeah.” You said in between breaths.

“Jared,” You heard him call out. “What’s going on?”

All you heard was silence, but Sam seemed to hear a reply as he kept talking to Jared. You ignored the one-sided conversation in favor of standing up and trying to ease your tight and cramping muscles.

“Are you coming?” Sam asked close beside you.

“Huh?”

“The guys are close; we’re heading over to Bella’s house.” He explained. The look he was giving you was still wary with a hint of concern. You could feel a familiar sense running through your body as you looked back at him.

Mentally smiling you nodded your head and followed after your new alpha.

@ooreikeoo-blog​ @nickangel13 @oi-itse @thesuicidalflower @holl2712​ @r-rose08 @smileykiddie08 @buckysjuicyplums @callie-bear15​ @oopsiedoopsie23​ @cherrywinepoison​  @sarcasticnovah​ @unicornicopia1​ @rottenstyx​ @awesomeowlbook​ @sunsetevergreen​ @kool-kat-slider​

[storyshark2005]

Fic Excerpt - Part IV of "Been and Gone" series. Lunch with Uncle Liam.

I should be writing but it's hard so I'm wasting time making a silly banner for a fic excerpt so ENJOY some boozy lunch with Uncle Liam and the girls:

They all laugh, and Molly waves for another round of drinks. Anais pulls out her phone and snaps a photo of him and Molly, and then comes around for a selfie with all three of them. 

“I’ll tag you both,” she promises, tapping away.

The sun breaks out from a bank of clouds overhead, and Liam wonders if Noel’s awake yet. If he’s got the curtains pulled shut like a dark cave, or if he was stirring fitfully in a mess of sheets, caught in a knife beam of sunlight.

“What’re they like?” Liam asks after a couple of drinks. 

Anais hums and sits back, smiling at her thoughts. “Well, let’s see. Donovan’s like...he’s a bit quieter. Internal. Really sweet, and thoughtful. And creative, he’s always been really good at drawing, and artsy stuff. He plays a lot of video games, adventury-y type ones.”

“Is he into music?”

“I mean...not really. Not like Dad. I think Dad wishes he’d sort of catch on to something besides his computer to be interested in. But he’s still young. He’ll figure it out.” 

“Bit of a daydreamer, then?” 

“Yeah,” she nods.

“That was our Noel.” Liam feels himself smile; he can still see Noel at seventeen, in his narrow little bed with his headphones plugged into the stereo, the window open to let out the thick, curling wheels of smoke. Eyes half-closed, drifting somewhere a thousand miles from Manchester, from Liam, from everyone.

“And Sonny’s the opposite. He’s like me-- super outgoing, energetic, always talking, chatting away. Dad always says he could make friends in a bucket.” She laughs. “He goes through these little obsessions-- for a while Dad was so excited, ‘cause he was really getting into the guitar. He had a few mates from school, and they all got together and did this talent show gig where they played ‘Bang a Gong’, by T-Rex. And Dad was like...freaking out, he was so excited! I think he thought they were doing Cigarettes and Alcohol for a few seconds.” 

Molly grins, shakes her head. “That’s so sweet.” 

Anais rolls her eyes. “But now it’s just football, football, football. Actually it’s really good, because he’s got football camp all summer to keep him distracted. I sort of wish Donovan would find something to keep his mind off of things. 

“But anyway, yeah. Sonny just wants to be Erling Haaland when he grows up.” 

Liam had stayed at home with Paul and the boys to watch the championship, not up to the stress of hobbling around the Etihad, and with him and Noel in the same place, it would have been a madhouse. But he’d seen the pictures of Noel holding Sonny over his shoulders, his tiny, joyous little face. 

He remembers a couple of weeks after he was born. Almost a year after the band broke up, Liam had thought things couldn’t get worse with him and Noel; and he hadn’t minded so much, because he was still so angry. But he remembers picking up a photo from his mother’s coffee table: Noel in the hospital holding a little bundle of blue, Donovan standing at his knee tugging on Noel’s trousers. A strange second where he’d almost forgotten everything that had happened, and nearly asked out loud, why didn’t he call me, he forgot to call because Noel had been the first person Liam had called after Lennon, after Gene. 

“D’you think they’ll like me?” 

It sort of slips out. He’s still not all there, still thinking about the blue bundle in Noel’s arms, about the end of the band; Liza in New York, and Nicole next to him on the sofa asking him, where are you? It’s like I don't even know you anymore. Life all splintered up into pieces, and none that really fit together.

Anais puts her fork down, mouth pulling fondly to one side, knowingly, like she had a secret. “Uncle Liam. They’re going to love you.”

He doesn’t know if he believes her, but it’s too dear a thought, too much to wish for and too far away. He’s got to figure Noel out first, and Noel’s got to figure Sara out, and somehow, somehow, they’ve all got to make it through in one piece.

[guitars-and-kaleidoscope-eyes]

Here Today

Chapter Eight: Julia

WARNING: I detailed a death scene in this chapter, so if you think you may get triggered, you may want to skim this chapter.

Incase you missed previous chapters:

July 15, 1958

Things were really looking up for Mr. John Winston Lennon. He had a boyfriend (or at least he hoped so), his band was really hitting it off, he'd be turning eighteen in three months, and best of all, his aunt and mother actually seemed to be sisters again. They were doing all the things they used to do and Julia seemed to be over at the house almost everyday. Finally, life seemed to be looking good for Mr. Lennon.

But that was all about to change.

"Mimi? MIMI?" John called out, trying to find his aunt.

"Out here John." He heard his aunt call back.

John walked outside to find his aunt and mum sitting in lawn chairs tanning.

"I'm going over to Paul's house to record a bit." John said, his guitar case in hand and his Buddy Holly glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Ok John, but be back for dinner." Mimi reminded.

"That's ok. I'm not hungry." John said.

"Well you will be!" Mimi said.

"He could come to my house." Julia offered.

Mimi paused. "Well alright."

John smiled. "Thanks Mimi. See you mum."

A few hours later. Julia was walking home. It would be about an hour until John would be home and she'd need to beat him there.

The warm summer air was ruffling through her hair and floral dress. She goes to cross the street.

From a driver's perspective, Julia Lennon suddenly comes out of nowhere. The driver is an off duty policeman. He goes to slam down the breaks, but accidently hits the accelerator instead.

Julia looks over to see a car coming for her full speed. She panics and before she can think of what to do, the car hits her. BANG! Julia Lennon flies though the air and hits the concrete. There's a scream, the blood curling sound of tires screeching, and Julia's world goes black.

"How's it sound?" John asked Paul once he finished recording Hello Little Girl on a tape in Paul's room.

"Sounded good. But I think you should-"

"Hey John?" The boys heard a voice say. They turned around to see Paul's brother, Mike, standing in the doorway.

"What is it Mike? We're kind of in the middle of something." Paul sighed.

"I'm sorry. John, your aunt called and needs to talk to you. It sounded pretty urgent." Mike explained.

"Alright. Paul, I'll be back in a minute." John said. Mike went and sat on the floor next to his brother.

"Did she say what was wrong?" Paul asked Mike.

"No, just that she needed to talk to John. But it sounded like she had been crying." Mike said.

Suddenly, the boys heard the sound of the front door slamming shut. The two brothers looked at each other and got off the floor and ran downstairs. By the time they made it down, John had already turned the corner of the street. Paul ran after him.

"John? JOHN! What did she say? What happened?" Paul yelled at the figure ahead of him.

No response.

"John?"

Nothing.

"John-"

"SHE'S DEAD! MUM'S DEAD! SHE'S GONE!"

Paul stopped in his tracks, wind blowing through his hair.

By the time Mike caught up with Paul, he had heard everything. John was already gone. Mike stopped where Paul was standing. The two looked at each other with a mix of horror, shock, and sadness. Both looking into each other's eyes, trying to find some solace.

A week later was Julia's funeral. The whole band was there to support John. His two little sisters were there crying. Paul took turns comforting them both. John couldn't stand the thought of going to see his mother in the coffin. His own mother, the one who gave him life, the one who loved him, the one to first hold him, dead. All he could really do was lay his head in Mimi's lap as she stroked his hair gently.

John was sitting him Julia's old house. Someone came to offer him some food on a plate. All he could do was shake his head. Someone was plucking banjo strings.

"WHAT IS THIS? FUCKING GROUP PRACTICE? I DON'T THINK SO!" He screamed at the top of his lungs at Paul.

Stuart cut in, "John, it's your mum's-"

"SHE'S FUCKING DEAD!" John screamed and punched Stewart in the nose and ran out of the house.

John was pacing in the street. Running his hand through his hair angrily.

"John!" He heard Paul yell. He ran in front of him. "You wanna hit me too ay? Well go on."

Out of pure rage, he did. He shoved Paul to the ground. Paul was shocked. He didn't think he'd actually do it.

"I'm sorry!" John cried and grabbed Paul by the hand and pulled him up and threw his arms around him. Suddenly, John and Paul did something that two Liverpool boys never did. They began to cry.

"I was just getting to know her!" John sobbed into Paul's shoulder.

"I know." Paul said softly and patted John's back to let him know he was there for him.

"And she's never coming back!" John cried even louder.

"No, she's not." Paul said and cried even more with John, thinking about his own mother.

The two boys stayed in that same spot on the street for a while, both comforting each other. They stood in that exact spot that Julia had died. Even though the blood had been cleaned up and the body had been buried, the memories of Julia and her dying would forever haunt John. Years later, he could still feel the spirit of disapire and heartbreak everytime he saw the spot in the road.

This fanfiction is dedicated to Julia Lennon, who's birthday would have been today.

March 12th, 1914 - June 15th, 1958

[cellarfulofnose]

It's the Best I Can Do

(Sequel to Knowing Me, Knowing You)

Prologue: After the tour

John

John gathered a few sheets of notebook paper from the floor, crisscrossed with half-legible chords and lyrics, and tossed them into his guitar case. He felt light and fast, full of pep, despite the length of time he and Paul had sat in the same position, bent like gargoyles over guitars and pages. Not only had they finished the song they started yesterday, but they'd gotten halfway through a new one in the time left over. They were writing like wildfire lately. Had been since--

Well. That was the change, wasn't it? Since he'd decided to be a man and say fuck it and tell Paul how he felt about him, only to be interrupted by Paul planting a frantic kiss on his lips. Their minds worked too alike, sometimes. One day it was going to get them into trouble. But that day, and most every day since, it'd been...brilliant. Best he'd had. Better than he thought he could get.

He tried not to dwell on it.

John shut the lid of his guitar case and flipped the latches. "When can I come by again?" he said, standing, slinging the guitar over his shoulder.

"Um. Not tomorrow." Paul was seated on the bed and comparing a few of his own pages. He frowned in concentration, trying to match the ones that belonged to the same song. "Better Monday. Dad works, and Mike's got this, uh. He'll be on a school trip." As he pored over the paper, his lips moved. Silently singing to himself.

John wanted to ask him something. But he wanted him to look at him first.

"Can I tie you up?" he said, plain.

Paul finished reading a lyric sheet and set it on a pile of papers. "Wha'?" he said, meeting John's eye. His eyebrows were high, his face smooth. He hadn't heard.

"Can I tie you to the bed?" John repeated. "On Monday, when I come by?"

That sank in. Paul's eyes went even bigger and rounder than his cervine usual, and his lips tightened to keep down a big grin. "Okay," he said, coolly, but a healthy blush rouged his cheeks and neck. Boy, the kid could blush. He turned into a strawberry when he was drunk and shone pink at the suggestion of sex play. John got pretty ruddy, too, when bladdered; that was the Irish in them. But Paul was hopeless. And pretty.

"Yeah?" said John.

"Yeah, all right," said Paul, stretched wide by a smile he could no longer fight. He looked away from John, blinking.

John nodded thoughtfully. "Can I blindfold you?" he added after a pause.

Paul looked back. "Jesus, John." He was still smiling, but now it looked a bit shocked. "What-- yes, yeah, but...wh--" He trailed off and gave a confused little shake of his head.

John shrugged, hoping Paul couldn't see that he was about to keel over from the exhilaration of saying all that out loud. And that was the easy part. "You'll see. Or--" he snickered and covered his eyes with his palm, then peeked through his fingers at Paul, "...maybe you won't."

He turned to leave before Paul could respond (though he didn't say anything, which let John know he'd really thrown a spanner into the works of his brain). "See you Monday," he said over his shoulder, and turned the doorknob.

"Right-- Monday," Paul called when John was already halfway to the stairs.

Part One: The Martyrdom of Saint Sebastian

Monday

Originally, the idea had been to use rope, but that had fallen through for several reasons. First, John was terrible with knots. Ringo once remarked that if conscription hadn't ended and John had been drafted into the navy, Britain would have fallen to the Soviets. Second, they were cautious of rope-burn. And losing circulation in Paul's hands. It wasn't to be that kind of torture, whatever it was John had planned. And third and most importantly, John still had a pair of handcuffs he'd lifted from a sex shop in Hamburg. Paul made him try the key three times before he'd let him even slip a cuff round his wrist. When the first one locked fast with a buzz and click, John saw him gulp. But Paul caught his eye and nodded. Ready.

John passed the empty cuff through the carved hole in Paul's headboard, round the back, and over to his other hand, then clamped it shut. Paul was good and stuck now, hands suspended in loose splay over his head, not too tight. He was a bit wide-eyed, but not in a frightened, anxious way. He looked sharp, liable to give off sparks, like he'd downed a handful of uppers. His eyes were almost black with the size of his pupils.

Paul squirmed, trying to get comfortable, and something tugged fierce in John's chest. With his arms up, in nothing but his y-fronts, Paul looked uncanny like a painting they'd studied in art school. Some Christian martyr or other, bound to a tree branch by his hands, ready to give it all up for God. At the time, John thought it was about the queerest thing he'd laid eyes on: some pale, starlet-faced thing, modestly muscled with a tiny waist, barely covered by a loincloth, looking wanly up to heaven with arrows in his armpits. He and Stuart had laughed at it for hours and fantasized about it for even longer.

But this was no fantasy. This, Paul, was here. His to hold. His to touch. He couldn't stop staring.

Paul seemed to shrink under the weight of John's gaze. He shifted his position again. "What?"

John blinked. Shook his head. You're beautiful. "Does it hurt?"

Paul looked up and tested the slack of the handcuffs. The chain made a dull metallic noise, and John felt his mouth water. This was dangerously more attractive than he'd budgeted for.

"No, they're all right," said Paul.

"Well." John swallowed. He couldn't look at Paul just yet, or he'd have him right here and they'd never get to the Plan. "If you want me to stop, just..."

"Yeah." Even without looking, John could feel Paul nod when the mattress bobbed beneath them. "Yeah, I know."

"Okay." Barely more than a whisper. John took a deep breath and wrapped his black necktie around Paul's eyes. He wasn't supposed to be nervous. It should be Paul ready to piss himself, and Paul didn't even know why he should be nervous yet.

"Can you see?" he ventured, after securing two half-hitch loops behind Paul's head.

"Still better than you," Paul said, a smile playing at his lips.

John was tempted to jab him in the ribs for that. But to his delight, Paul's smile flickered and then faded as he seemed to realize he was swinging a bat at a hornet's nest, disarmed and blind. His breathing quickened ever so slightly.

Good.

John leaned to the side and picked his jacket up off the floor. From the inner pocket, he drew out a tatted gray feather, tall and straight as a quill.

Paul

There was a heavy moment where Paul was certain John was going to lay a smack across his face for mouthing off. And part of him was, well. Not altogether opposed to that. He tried not to tense up, but his whole body tightened; even his skin, it felt like, waiting for the blow to land. The anticipation, married to the mystery of not knowing where it would come from or when, had Paul's heart jumping out of his chest.

But John didn't hit him. Instead, he touched him as gentle as you can touch someone, stroked up Paul's ribs with one grazing fingertip-- it had to be, it was so light and soft. Felt like he was barely touching him at all.

Paul's body jolted, out of shattered surprise if nothing else. He felt a shudder coming, ready to shake out of his chest like a yawn, and when John's gossamer touch swirled around his collarbone, he endured it with a sigh that was almost a ticklish laugh.

The bed creaked beneath them. John was moving; leaning in closer, going by the way the mattress dipped. Paul tensed again. But nothing happened.

Then, something wispy soft went up Paul's left nostril and started moving around.

Paul gave a hissing gasp, pure reflex, and the fire was lit. He tried to pull his head back, as if he could get away from it, but a horrible tickle already had its claws in Paul's nose. The ache and pressure of a building sneeze filled his head.

No, no, no, no, no. Not in front of John. Not after all that, before the tour.

Not without his hands.

"Jh- John..!" he tried, but it was too late. He didn't even have time to hold his breath before he was curling in on himself with a clumsy, sputtering "hnngktSChew!"

What the fuck. What the fuck. Paul's blood roared in his ears, as much from mortification as the exertion of the sudden sneeze. How had that happened? It'd been years since he'd let fly a sneeze in front of anyone, least of all John. Even when all four of them were sick as dogs with the nastiest cold this side of the Spanish Flu, he'd given himself an ear infection stifling them all down to little wet shudders. It was agony, of course, but not compared to this. He felt naked. Cold and exposed, but enflamed. He turned his head against his arm, sniffling behind his left bicep.

That wasn't normal. Something had gone up his nose.

John gave a soft huff of disbelief. "Fuckin' Christ," he said quietly, "this might be easier than I thought."

Paul's head straightened, turning as if to look at John, though his vision was all black silk. "What? What're you talking about?"

He flinched when something brushed over his bound hands, fearing insects or spiders, but it was smooth, downy.

"Can you feel that?" John asked.

Paul curled his hands, letting the strange material graze his fingers. He felt a straight row of delicate fibers along a hard spine.

It was a great big feather.

At once, the world became much smaller to Paul. "Did you do that to me, just now?" he demanded.

"Clever lad," said John, a smile audible in his voice. The feather dragged across Paul's palms and reappeared at his cheek. "I've got a proposition, you see."

Paul couldn't think. His pulse was racing with humiliation, flushing his skin hot, and John was tracing playful circles over his cheek with the feather. It was too much sensation. He hadn't even begun to consider why John would have done that, what he possibly stood to gain from making him sneeze. Unless he just wanted to embarrass him; in which case, well done, he was about to melt his brain with the heat of embarrassment. Thank fuck he was blindfolded and didn't have to look John in the eye. He might actually have died. He hummed, as much a reply as a reaction to the feather's coaxing.

"Tell me what you think of this," came John's voice, closer this time. "I get to make you sneeze ten times--"

"Ten-- what?!" Paul recoiled. He hid his face behind his arm again. There was no way this was happening. He couldn't take that. John didn't want that. It was his stupid fetish, his 'fucking fixation.' And now it was being thrown back in his face in the most mortifying way possible-- for what?!

"Wait, listen," John insisted.

The bite of the handcuffs against Paul's wrists was starting to feel much, much too tight. He felt his throat tighten along with them. "John, please."

"Hear me out. Okay?" John's hand was on his shoulder, firm and warm. He stroked his thumb against Paul. "You okay?"

Paul concentrated on the touch. Rising panic gave way to an anxious stir, which finally subsided to calm. He took a cleansing breath and swallowed. "Yeah, 'm okay."

"Good. All right. So." The feather swept under Paul's chin this time, as though encouraging him to look up. He almost did it, too, without thinking.

John continued. "I get to make you sneeze ten times, BUT, but," he added, pre-empting the wave of horror that rolled over Paul again, "you get to do it to me after. For thirty minutes. Straight."

Oh.

Well. That changed things, didn't it?

"Think about that, eh?" John's voice was low, right next to Paul's ear. It raised a chill all down his arms and the back of his neck. He tried not to flinch away from the faint puff of John's breath on his skin, but then John's nose was against his neck, and a shiver wracked Paul's whole body. John sniffed roughly, rubbing his face over Paul as though trying to scratch his nose with Paul's shoulder. "Half an hour," he murmured, then rubbed and sniffed again. "How many times d'you think you could make me sneeze in half an hour? Or longer, yeah? If I can't stop."

"J-- ffuck..." Paul didn't know if he was trying to say John or Jesus or what, but speech of any kind became impossible with John nuzzling the point of his nose into Paul's neck, making him squirm and shiver. It was like he felt everything more when he couldn't use his hands to push John away, stop him touching him. The blindfold, too, seemed to heighten his other senses, so that the sound of John's breath and the press of his nose just about drove him mad.

And that idea. Paul couldn't even wrap his head around it. That was the sort of putting out that Paul didn't even conjure in his most personal fantasies. Just leave it to John, randy bastard, to cook up something like that. It sent a hot spike of excitement to Paul's core, making his stomach flutter and his cock start to fill out.

"Yeah," he breathed, nodding hard. "Yeah, I'll-- shit. I'll do it. I'll do it."

Paul felt John's weight settle on his thighs, sitting astride him, and he quickly said, "Wait, wait." He craned his neck away. "That...that one before, that, that counts toward the ten, yeah?"

John scoffed. "Does it fuck."

"It--" Paul felt John move, and fearing the feather, he pressed his nose into his arm. "Fucking prick. It counts."

"Miser."

Paul didn't uncover his face. "Say it counts."

"Thirty minutes, Paul."

Paul said nothing. Damn him, damn him. John held the best hand at the table and he knew it. Still, he hesitated.

"Fine, it fucking counts," John said impatiently, "now come here. Let me see your pretty nose."

Oh, God. Sweet heat bloomed up through Paul's body. His head reeled, sending him spinning, so to take the situation back, he turned to John and twitched his nose. Down-up down-up, quick, like a rabbit.

John laughed, unguarded. "How do you do that?"

"Hey." Paul tilted his head lazily, trying to look as if he had someplace better to be. "Less talk, more action, a'right?"

John snorted. "Have it your own way."

There was no pause this time, no space for Paul to anticipate where the blow would come from. Almost before John stopped talking, the feather was back in his nose, flitting around. Paul let out a surprised noise that finished as a cough. John was good at this. His movements were inelegant, unpracticed, but he'd managed to strike a spot that made Paul's head buzz with the need to sneeze. But he was ready, this time. This one he saw coming. As he felt himself crest the peak, he sealed off his nose and throat and ducked to the side.

"hhh'nkxt!"

It was quiet, but it made a nasal squeak that had Paul longing for the use of his hands so he could hold it in proper. Mortifying, yeah, but still. Could've been worse.

Paul swallowed and cleared his throat. "Two."

"Oh, give over," said John, sending ice into Paul's veins. "Call that a sneeze?"

Luckily, Paul was so shocked that he forgot to die of embarrassment. "Some people say 'bless you.'"

"I'll say that when you actually fucking sneeze," John said, then his voice softened. "Just-- it'll feel better, all right, just let it go, Paul."

Would that it were that easy. Paul chewed on his lip, as he couldn't reach his thumb. "I don't know if I, um."

Thirty minutes.

Paul exhaled. "I'll try."

"'At's a lad." John clapped his shoulder, too hard, meant to be a joke, and Paul smiled despite himself. But his smile disappeared when John held him by the jaw and stuck the feather in his nose.

"Wow," he blurted without really meaning to, his voice at half-strength. It wasn't quite like before, an itch that went straight to his throat, an intrusion he needed to cough out. No, whatever John was doing now, this was all in his nose, and it was worse. It tickled furiously, dry and catching like a brush fire. His eyes were watering, soaking into the blindfold.

"Aren't you gonna tell me how it feels?"

"Uh..." Paul's breath wasn't getting away from him yet, but he could feel it deepening, getting ready for something big. He wasn't sure how long he had to talk. "It's, uh. Pretty inte'hh...intense." His diaphragm jumped as the tickle flared, started to sting. He huffed a breath out, trying to fight it. The blindfold was warm with tears now.

"Yeah, sounds it," John said, might as well have purred. "Gonna sneeze?"

Paul almost trembled. John had caught him off guard, and that small lapse in control had him fighting for breath against the fluttery, feathery tickle. All he could get out was "I...think--"

"Got to tell me when you are," John said.

He was going to.

"You've got to say it."

He couldn't hold it back. "I'm- hh-- I'm gonnasneezScHhhew! ...httCHhew!"

John had let go of his jaw just soon enough to let him twist toward his shoulder. Not covering, but not full in John's face, at least. Which was lucky. Judging by the cold tickle gathering at the skin around his nostrils, that last one was a bit of a mess. Urgh, God. Paul wiped at his nose with his upper arm, sniffling as quietly as he could, trying not to sound as drippy and pathetic as he felt.

"Four," he said. The vibration of the word made him cough, which made his nose drip again. He gave a quick, snorting sniff and cleared his throat. There. Happy?

John whistled. "Bless you."

Paul's ears burned. John had never said that to him, at least not in context. He'd only heard it in quick Liverpudlian thanks; Ah, blessye, son, when he tossed John a cigarette or similar. He was going to be fighting a hard-on every time John said it innocently from now on.

If he'd ever said it innocently to begin with.

John smoothed the feather over Paul's lips. "Not s'bad, was it?"

That was just it. It wasn't bad at all; it was wonderful, on a purely physical level. Paul had almost forgotten how natural, how relieving it felt to sneeze without trying to bottle it up. Free and open. But that didn't negate the fact that he'd never endured anything so humiliating in his life. He was burning, queasy with it. And incredibly aroused. It must be obvious to John; he was practically sitting on it.

Finding all of that too arduous to sum up, Paul just shrugged. As well as he could with his arms bound above his head. "Yeah, 's all right."

"Just all right, is it?" said John, and he cupped a hand on Paul's dick, bold, relaxed.

Paul bit his tongue and swallowed a moan. His hips tried to lift, roll into John's touch against his will, but he was pinned down. He couldn't push him away. He couldn't even bring his legs together to keep John out. He was held open, and if John kept that up, he was going to go to pieces then and there. "Mmn-- don't. You... John--"

"God, let me kiss you."

Paul gritted his teeth. His hands were getting pins and needles; all the blood was flowing downstream. "Don'-- Don't get distracted," he gasped as John moved his hand.

"One kiss." John's other hand was at his cheek. "God, look at-- If you could see how you fucking look right now."

Like a chicken hanging in a butcher shop window, Paul thought, trussed up by its skinny limbs. But he needed to touch John back. "Kiss me, then," he sighed, "come here."

John held his face and kissed him, pressed them chest to chest, deep and quick. Paul had only just gotten his tongue in John's mouth when the weight and warmth lifted off him as John pulled back. Paul was panting slightly, out of breath just from that. Why did he stop?

For another moment, John was still. Then, he planted a quick peck of a kiss on the end of Paul's nose.

Paul scrunched it up immediately. That tickled. "What'd you do that for?" he asked, fighting the urge to rub his nose against his shoulder.

John shifted, and Paul could practically see him shrug. "It's gettin' all pink," he said after a moment, as if that were an answer.

"Hm." Paul lowered his head to hide some of his smile. "Yeah, thanks for that."

"Guilty, guilty." John took Paul's jaw in his hand again and dusted the feather over the tip of his nose. Not enough to stir up a sneeze, but Paul still winced and huffed at the flighty itch. He'd gotten too comfortable, just now. He'd almost let himself believe that he could make it through this in one piece, with his dignity intact and his image untarnished in John's eye.

He wasn't even halfway done.

"Let's try the other one, shall we?" John said, and wriggled the feather into Paul's right nostril.

Paul made a startled sound, somewhere between a cough and a yelp. This side was far, far more sensitive. His nose twitched and wrinkled as his body tried fervently to reject what was tickling it. He started coughing repeatedly, breathless and weak. This was bad.

"Wha-hey. That's it, isn't it?" John said triumphantly.

"Hah...ah'h..." Paul couldn't get a single word out. The tickle was almost unbearable. Tears rolled down his right cheek under the blindfold. He needed to sneeze. He needed to clear every trace of that feather out of his head.

"Yeah, that's it," John laughed. He switched to a dark, rumbling schoolmaster's voice. "Come, come, boy, where are your manners?"

Paul's breath hitched again. He could have sobbed. He was sure he'd burst into flames if he couldn't sneeze right this minute. But he knew what John was asking; he'd said that to him before. Beg me for it. "Ple'h-h! ...please--!" he gasped.

John twisted the feather cruelly, making Paul's head rear back. It hurt, stung smartly like a lash, but that was all it took. His lungs swelled and filled, and he whipped forward.

"hEH'ttSCHOO! --eHt'Tsschhw! eHt'TCHHEW! ...Augh, God."

Jesus fuck. Paul buried his face in his arm. Those had gotten away from him. He'd thought that earlier one was a mess? Now he felt like he was drowning. He could feel hot trails of wetness clear down to his lip, and his nose was full and blocked. Fucking disgusting.

"Goodness me." John was clearly talking through a smug grin, the fucker. "That's seven now, is it?"

Paul snuffled against his arm, achieving nothing. He couldn't even breathe in through his nose, and the sound it made when he tried was obscene. "Yup," he muttered soddenly.

"Come 'ere."

Like hell, thought Paul. There was something wrong with John if he wanted to kiss him right now. "No," Paul said into his arm, "I've-- got all this--"

"Not for a kiss, you clot," said John, "I can see you've got all that, I'm trying to blow your nose for you." There was a rustle of fabric, like John was grabbing at a piece of cloth.

"No, urgh, God, don't--" Paul turned further away and tried to mop up the mess with his arm. He only succeeded in making both his face and his arm dewy and cold. "...Don't do that. Jesus."

"Yeah?" John wasn't impressed. "What's gonna happen next time you sneeze, then? Gonna drip all over your cock?"

Paul was so sure John was going to touch him that his hips jerked, chasing something that never came. He tried to keep them still as the lack of contact started to settle in, making him restless, starved.

"Hey, maybe that wouldn't be so bad, eh?" John said in a low voice, like it was a secret, putting a chill in Paul's skin. "Can't have too much of a good thing. Bit of... lubrication never hurt an--"

"All right, fuckin' hell." Paul needed John to stop talking and quick. He shouldn't have raised his voice, though. The change in pressure shifted something in his sinuses, inviting a watery tickle. "Just--" Paul worked his jaw, chewing on his tongue. Finally, he turned his head toward John, lips tight.

"There you go." John's voice was kind, jarringly so. "Come 'ead."

A bundle of cotton cloth enveloped Paul's mouth and nose. It was a bit rough, and for a moment he wondered if John was using his t-shirt as a handkerchief again. But it was small and square, just well-worn. Paul wondered, with a jolt of shame and arousal, if it was John's own, almost threadbare with use and abuse. John used to toss off into a handkerchief, he remembered him saying once. Used to.

Whatever its origins, it might as well have been velvet for how good it felt on Paul's face, swiping the skin around his nose carefully dry, not scraping too much or rubbing too hard. A shallow sigh fell through his parted lips. All right, this wasn't so bad.

John took the handkerchief away with a final drag under Paul's nose. When he brought it back, it was folded so that the side touching Paul was clean and dry. John held it firmly over his nostrils and ordered, "Blow."

Paul was still blushing down to his toes, but he didn't see much use in resisting at this point. He drew a careful breath in through his mouth and exhaled. Slowly at first.

John barked out a sudden laugh. "Not the first time you've heard that, is it?"

"Shut up," Paul said, breathy, on the exhale, before taking another gulp of air and clearing his nose again.

"Like bloody Pavlov's dog, you are. Someone says 'blow' and you can't help yourself."

Paul opened his mouth to tell John he'd ring his bell, or some other thematically appropriate threat, but what came out was--

"hh'cgsschhh!"

It'd been too much of a disturbance, blowing his nose. It tickled up a tag-along sneeze that wrenched out of him when his lungs were practically empty. Straight into the fabric and John's waiting hand.

John exhaled a short laugh. Paul heard his lips come together and part, like he was going to say something, but he was silent for another moment. "Bless you," he finally said. "That was...eight?"

In answer, Paul pressed against John's hand, closing his left nostril, gave a final, miserable blow, and nodded. This was so ridiculous. John had made his point; he'd had a good laugh. Why did it have to be ten? John was the funniest person Paul knew. He should be the first to recognize when a joke was spent.

But John didn't seem to take the cue. He pinched the cloth together and away from Paul's face, cleaning up all traces of the last sneeze. "Here's an easy one for you," he said. The feather reappeared at Paul's ribs and started to trail up his side. "If you can say my name, you only have to make it to nine."

Paul raised his eyebrows. John was starting to see some sense, then. He tutted, pretending to be stuck. "Tough one. 'S it...John?"

"Full name."

Paul had to bite his lip to keep in an exasperated sigh. "John Lenn--"

"How soon we forget!" John exclaimed, suddenly lousy with patriotism. "Middle name, middle name. The bloody bulldog, hey? We shall fight on the beaches..."

For Christ's sake. Paul pulled his lips into a smile and carefully pronounced, "John Winston Lennon." Time to pay the piper, arsehole.

"Good, very good. Only..." John's mouth was right next to Paul's ear. "...that's not my name, is it, Paul?"

Gooseflesh rose all over Paul's skin. His teeth nearly chattered together. "F'ckoff."

"No, I think you'll find it's John, with an N," purred John with an N, gently dragging the tip of his nose from Paul's ear to his neck. "Not Joh'd Widdstond Leddond," he gurgled, approximating Paul's stuffy voice.

"Fuck you." Paul rubbed his ear against his shoulder, forcing out John's chilling touch. He didn't sound like that, sickly and impotent. Sure, he might have been woefully congested, but his nasal consonants were intelligible...weren't they?

Hell with it either way. He was going to get John for this. He was going to make him regret that stupid indecent proposal.

"Temper, temper," John tutted. He gave the end of Paul's nose a coy, admonishing tap with one finger. It made his eyes water. Paul flinched and shook his head.

John ran the feather pensively over Paul's cheek. "Reckon you still owe me two, then," he said, and stuck it up Paul's right nostril once more.

Paul let out a strangled cry. He couldn't even cough; it was so bad. John had gone further back than before. He was fluttering over a spot that felt so tickly and invasive, so profoundly wrong, that Paul's body was on high alert. Get it out. He didn't care what had to happen. His breath came in gasps, high and wanting.

"hah! ...hh'h...hh...! hEht'CHShuhh! ...ahh--!"

The sneeze ripped out of him before he knew quite what was happening, but it brought no relief, only a gaping, aching need in his head and chest. The feather still tickled so badly.

John hadn't even taken it out.

"Nine," said John, "nearly there." He was barely moving his wrist, twisting it a miniscule amount this way and that, guiding the feather with deadly accuracy against the most reactive part of Paul's nasal passage.

"Can't...it-it's not--" Paul was panting uselessly, spilling over with tears. The sneeze wouldn't come, no matter how much his nose itched, no matter how his lungs screamed for air. He pulled on the handcuffs, as if he could reach John's wrist-- to snatch it away or drive it deeper, he couldn't say. "I w- I want...!" He felt close to weeping.

"Fuck," breathed John. It was a blue sigh, tinged with the beginnings of worry. He pulled the necktie up to Paul's hairline at the same time that he withdrew the feather.

Paul squinted out at the suddenly-bright room, his mouth hanging open. The light pierced his eyes, induced a teary prickle that spread into his nose...

He took in a huge, gulping, shaking breath, and sneezed.

"--hah'KHtSHHOO!"

Straight from the chest. It knocked the breath out of him, left him half-bent over, his tongue and teeth still buzzing. He coughed. Tried to sniffle. Mary and the Saints, it was over.

He was going to make John rue the day he was born.

John clapped and gave a bellowing cheer. Paul couldn't hear exactly what it was he said, apart from ten. One of his ears was starting to go a little blocked, and he was too busy playing over Thirty minutes in his head. When John let him out of these restraints... Christ.

"...that feel better now?" John was saying. Paul looked up to see John, face split with a grin, holding a long gray feather in his right hand. It was a darker gray, shiny, at its pointed tip. "Wasn't sure you were gonna make it through that, to be honest," he admitted with a light laugh.

Uncuff me, you rotten bastard, Paul thought, but he gave a sweet half-smile and glanced bashfully down. "Big boy, aren't I," he shrugged. Sniffled. "Can handle meself."

"Too bloody right," John rumbled, and curled his hand around Paul's dick, once. Just a quick hello and done. But even that was enough to make Paul gasp and bite his lip to keep down a whine, lean his head back as the hot spark shot up his spine.

"Stalling," Paul managed to hiss through gritted teeth.

John muttered reluctant agreement and lifted his tie the rest of the way off Paul's head. Paul shook his hair out, then once more when he was sure John was watching. It was a bad idea; too much head movement. He had to wipe his nose on his arm and snuffle awhile.

"I'm starting to see the, uh. The appeal, or what you call it." John reached over to the end table to retrieve the key and set about unlocking Paul, whose heart leapt into his throat. But John only went on. "Sort of orgasmic, isn't it, almost? Sneezing?"

"Um." Paul swallowed. "W- ow!" With a steely click, the cuffs sprang free, and he immediately began to rub his wrists where the metal rings had cut little red lines in his skin. He felt blissfully sore and freed, like taking off boots that'd been giving you blisters all day.

"You all right?" John slid his weight off Paul's lap and sat next to him, back to the headboard. He took one of Paul's wrists in his hands and brought it close to his face, frowning as he ran his thumb over the indents. "Shit," he said softly, "sorry. Didn't think they would..."

"John?"

"...Yeah?"

Paul was certain he must be shaking with the effort to speak slowly and calmly. "Where's the feather?"

John blinked at Paul, then glanced back over the bedspread. It took a moment of searching, but he found the feather and held it up between them.

The two of them locked eyes. For a long moment, they stayed very still. Both chanced a fleeting glance at the feather, then back at each other.

John's jaw tensed.

Part Two: Speak Roughly to Your Little Boy

Paul lunged for it just as John yanked his arm back. He caught hold of John's wrist, but John grabbed his hand, trying to pull him away. They struggled back and forth until Paul's weight forced John into a prone position under him, their hands locked together next to John's head.

John tugged once more, then flashed a wolfish grin, all jumping eyebrows and teeth. "Give us a kiss."

Paul yanked with a useless grunt. "Get fucked."

"I'd sure like tmmph..."

He'd shut John up with an open-mouthed kiss, a little smothering, rougher than it needed to be with gravity on Paul's side. John's face softened at once, then his grip, as Paul sucked a bit of teeth into his lips, met their tongues. He let go of Paul's hands. Paul answered by clutching the side of John's head, thumbing over his cheek.

With the other hand, he slipped his fingers between John's and took hold of the feather.

John gave a low hum, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Then his hand clamped shut on nothing, and he hmm?ed surprise into Paul's mouth. He broke away with a shake of his head that almost made Paul bite his tongue.

"Judas," he spat, breathing heavily.

Paul smiled. He pinned John's shoulders swiftly to the bed with an arm across his collarbone. "You promised," he said, tapping John's cheek with the feather.

John's eyes darted to the feather. He swallowed. "Didn't get it in writing." He was panting more now, his eyes wild with exhilaration or fear.

Paul ran the feather across John's throat like a blade. He could see the hairs raise on John's neck and arms when he did it. It felt fucking amazing, the clear-headed might that came with brandishing it. Intoxicating. Like having a gun, or a cock. You felt big with one in your hand. The fact that it was a lovely, graceful, fluffy little thing that had John sweating was an extra treat. So brash, so cocksure, wasn't he, a moment ago, but the shoe was on the other foot now. What's the matter, John? 'Fraid I'll stick it up your nose, like you did to me? Scared it'll tickle just terribly?

God in heaven, this was going to be fun.

"Any last words?" Paul said, holding the feather to the end of John's nose.

John wet his lips and gave an experimental sniff. "Yeah. Try the left side first," he said boldly. "Itchin' like mad already, just watching you."

Paul tried very hard to appear like his stomach hadn't flip-flopped at that. But, judging by the burning in his ears and cheeks, he guessed he wasn't fooling anyone. Still, he put on a cool, disaffected expression and aimed the feather.

...Thirty minutes. What time was it? Paul glanced at the alarm clock on his bedside table. Quarter past four. Thirty minutes from now was... Right. Good.

It almost seemed short.

"Come on," said John, getting fidgety. "I want it."

Paul had never, never been able to look John in the eye and deny him something he wanted, so he obliged.

00:00:01

John's eyes half-lidded, then squeezed almost shut as he cringed. "Ah. There, yeah."

Paul's heart leapt. His head filled with things he'd heard from birds in fevered gasps; Oh, right there, faster, oh, just like that, you're gonna make me...! Every time, they'd almost ended him shamefully early. John was usually much more thrifty with such talk. Until now. Paul wasn't going to make it. He was already stiff as a board and John hadn't even sneezed yet; Jesus suffering Christ.

Entirely without consulting his brain, he blurted, "Can you... try not to?"

John blinked tearily at Paul. "Try not t--?" His nostrils flared out and his eyes fluttered shut as his breath skipped, but it only lasted a moment. "...Try not to sneeze?"

"Yeah." Paul's throat was dry.

John's eyebrows knit together. He began taking deeper breaths, lips parted. "Thought the who-whohhle... point was... for me t..."

"I know, just..." Paul swallowed. He tried not to move the feather faster. "If. If you can."

John nodded, which jostled the feather against the inside of his nose and punched a spell of coughing out of him. "Can I-- usemyhands?" he sputtered. It sounded urgent.

"Yeah," Paul sighed, "whatever you-- yeah."

John's head tilted back with a long, worried inhale. He pushed Paul and the feather away from his face. With the other hand, he pinched his nose between a thumb and fist.

"--hhah'dDtt!hh... aht'DdTtjsh! --'dDTtsh!"

Each stifled sneeze sent a tremor through John's body, then Paul's where he lay on top of him. He felt every muscle in John's stomach contract, felt his legs twitch as he tried to bend double.

Then John deflated. Let go of his nose with a wrenching sniff. It was so pink already, it looked like someone had made him up with blush. Paul instantly felt his own face go uncomfortably hot and knew he must be a few shades off scarlet by now. John caught the look and grinned. "Good?" he said, raising his eyebrows, knowing.

Paul let his head hang, bowed so he wasn't looking straight at John. "Yeah," he breathed around a rising smile. "Yeah. Really good." He felt like he was going to melt into John. That they'd explode like sodium and water.

"Here. Let me up." John nodded for Paul to take his arm off his chest, and without a second thought, Paul did. He climbed off John and gave him enough room so that they could sit cross-legged, facing each other. Like they always used to.

John was staring at him expectantly, so Paul quickly took him by the jaw. He raised the feather nearly to John's face, then stopped. "Can I?"

"Yeah." John nodded. "You don't have to ask." The deerlike fear was gone from his eyes. Now they looked calm, wet. Ready.

Paul couldn't say anything. He thumbed John's lip, which got him a twitch of a smile. With a dizzying flash of arousal and a deep breath, he worked the feather back into John's nose. Left side, of course. Smooth circles, starting off slow.

That wasn't good enough for John. He grabbed Paul's wrist and started moving it faster, little twitching movements, until his cheeks were tear-streaked and his head starting to lift back.

Paul was so stunned he forgot to retract the feather. John either didn't care or couldn't get his hand up with Paul's in the way, because when he finally caved in, he didn't bother to hold his nose.

"...ah'ngkxtcch! --nnkXtsshu!"

John's shoulders hunched when he sneezed, like making himself smaller would help him hold it in. It didn't; especially as Paul kept twisting the feather, maybe even a little faster now.

"ahhh... nnKgXsshiew! ...haH'AHSHHhew!"

John finally lost control and let out a roaring sneeze, all over Paul's hand. Paul jumped without meaning to, like an electric charge had zapped him-- it was just so loud. And wet.

"Bloody Christ. Snrrf!" John dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, then dragged his wrist under his nose, turning and swiping to clean himself up with the back of his hand. "Sorry." He sniffed again, guttural, snorting.

"'S okay." Paul felt as though someone else were talking for him. He was reeling a mile above the clouds, his skin tingling, still coming down from the rush of that last... performance. John had tried so hard to hold back, even when he couldn't use his hands, but they'd gotten too strong for him. Or too many. The thought coiled wickedly under Paul's stomach and made him take a deep, cooling breath. "You held 'em off for a while," he added.

John laughed wetly. "It's no good. Keepin' 'em in like that, it just makes me have to sneeze again. Till I get it out."

His tone was so casual, his expression so at ease, it was like he didn't know he'd almost killed Paul saying that. When Paul could speak again, he raised his eyebrows, and the feather. "Prove it."

00:09:28

"Paul, it's... 's not going to work."

"You..." Paul pulled the feather out, making John shudder and cough. "You think you're done?"

John shook his head. His lashes were spiked and dark with tears, his cheeks glistening wet. "No," he snuffled, "the feather, it's, it's not going to work anymore. There's too much... Ahh, fuck, it itches." John pinched his nose and started rubbing it in circles, making an awful squelching sound. From lips to brow, his nose had turned an angry, glowing pink, and he was only making it worse by roughing it up some more.

Paul felt a twinge of mixed sympathy and guilt. He looked away, choosing instead to study the feather a moment. John was right; there was certainly too much of something for it to work. It was no longer a fine, straight instrument. The rounded tip was dark and wet, starting to mat, slicked over with a clear shine. Good God. Paul had the urge to throw it out of sight before John could see that he'd seen it, for reasons he couldn't hope to articulate. While John's eyes were still closed, he dropped it off the bed.

"Give us a mo," said John. After he gave up on the itch he couldn't scratch, he turned to the side and mercilessly blew his nose into a silk scarf. It was their best substitute once they ran out of handkerchiefs, about five minutes ago. Felt better on the skin, too, John claimed; wouldn't chap.

"All right?" Paul asked, as automatic as it'd been the last 100 times he said it.

John nodded and mm-hmm'ed into the scarf. He mopped himself up with a few extra sniffles and sighs, then tossed it aside. "I have-- Hang on." He rose from the bed and went rifling through his jacket, discarded in a pile on the floor.

Paul's head swiveled around. "What are you doing?"

"Ha-ha," said John, victorious. He turned to Paul, grinning wickedly, with a little tin box in his hand.

Paul frowned and looked closer. "Are those cigarettes?"

"Better." John strode back over to the bed. "Lie down."

Paul was already on his back, head on the pillow, when he realized he'd seen trained dogs slower to obey a command than that. It made him a little restless, but he blamed the quick response on curiosity. "What is it?"

Next to the bed, John flipped the lid and reached into the box. Paul couldn't see the contents, but John's hand emerged with something pinched between his fingertips, the way you'd gather a handful of salt or spices to sprinkle over a roast.

"Snuff," John grinned, and deposited a pile of the stuff on Paul's bare stomach.

Paul's eyes widened. He tried not to upset the pinch of brown powder by breathing too hard, but as he inhaled, his heart went double-time. John couldn't be serious. He wasn't really about to--

"Sláinte," said John, and pressed his nose to Paul's skin with a series of great, rushing snorts.

Paul gasped helplessly, not least because it tickled, made the muscles in his stomach clench up. But also, the line of snuff was gone and John was upright, sniffing sharply again and again, knuckling at his nose like a dope-fiend. "John," Paul said in soft disbelief.

John held up a finger, warning him to wait. His features went slack, then twisted up with irritation. He nodded as his lungs filled with a shaky breath. This was going to work.

"heH'EHShhhew!"

John buckled forward, holding his nose. His leg jumped with the force of it, almost folding him like a jackknife. He found his footing with a staggering step and straightened up, blinking.

Something below Paul's stomach pulled tight. He was so hard his thighs ached.

He swallowed. "G'bless you." This was the first time he'd said it to John in context, too. It was petrifying. Felt like a sin, an overstep.

John waved it away, shaking his head. "Save your..."His expression faltered, scrunching together. He sawed back and forth under his nose with the back of a finger. "Save your breath." Clearly he wasn't done.

Paul remained obediently silent.

00:18:10

"'After a while...' snff! '...finding that no-nothing more hap...hahh'h--happe--!' hhh... --AHShhew! '...happened,' snf! 'she decided on go- on go...goihhng into- the-h! garden- at...' --h'EHSH! h'ESSHew! '...at once.'"

John swiped a fistful of the silk scarf past his nose, cleared his throat, and kept reading.

"'But, alas for poor...for-for poor Alice!' snf! '...when she gohht... to the- door- she...' hh-h! ah... 'she found she had...forgottenthe- little- goldehh...' hh'iESHhew!" Caught, just barely, in the scarf. "'Little golden key.' snrrf!"

Paul felt drunk. He was sitting at the head of the bed with a hard-on like the Tower of Pisa, as John sat against the wall next to him, reading from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. He'd flipped to a random page a few minutes back, and so far, progress was slow. It was turning Paul's brain into porridge, the way John's deep timbre went all thin and high as he ran out of breath, the way he tried to rush every word out until he couldn't move his mouth anymore.

John lowered the scarf and searched for the passage where he'd left off. He blinked and squinted, tightening his face as he scanned.

It shouldn't have struck Paul as funny. Right now, though, he was so dizzy with the heady drugs of arousal that he had to suppress a giggle. "What?"

John shook his head and turned over the book, propping the page open on his knee. "I can't bloody see." He laughed lightly as he wiped his eyes from the corners. "'M tearin' up." It was a surprisingly delicate gesture, the flattened hands and careful fingertips, brushing away tears like a romance heroine. Softly beautiful.

It caught Paul for another reason, too. Normally, John would sooner walk headlong into obstacles and play for a blurry crowd than admit to having trouble seeing. It gave Paul an idea.

"Put your glasses on," he said.

John took his glasses out of his shirt pocket-- Paul wondered, stunned, why he hadn't yet asked him to take it off-- and put them on without so much as a grumble.

Well. If that was all it took.

John flipped the book back open and blinked. He brought it closer, then further away as his focus adjusted. "'She found she had forgotten the little golden key, and when she went back to the table for it, she...she found she could not poss-possibly...reach it.'" He raised his free hand to his face in a loose fist, with one long finger slightly stuck-out. He pressed it under his nose and held it there as he continued. "'She could see--'"

"Does that help?" Paul interrupted, unable to stop himself. It was like the filter between his brain and his mouth had broken down, his normal anxious inhibition given way to the warm calm of arousal. He wasn't even particularly sure any of this was real anymore.

John chuckled. "Not really." He sniffed hard and sighed a congested "ugh."

Paul bit down on his lip. He concentrated very hard on staying upright, and not wrapping a fist around himself and fucking out all the hot tension and pressure. They were closer to being done now. He could make it. Even so, he couldn't quite bring himself to ask John to keep going.

Fortunately or unfortunately, John didn't need to be told. "'...She could see it quite plainly through the glass, and shhhe... and she try-- hahh-- hied...!' hah'DdTsh!hhew... haht'AHSHHhew!!"

John ducked sharply down against his hand, and the motion knocked his glasses most of the way off his face. He quickly pushed them back up his nose with a furtive glance at Paul, as if to check whether Paul had noticed.

Paul couldn't stop a huge smile from taking over his face, giddy and apologetic. John laughed shyly, which made Paul burst out giggling, which made John start laughing full and loud, which made him sneeze again.

"--'tTSSSHHew!" Clumsily into the back of his wrist.

Yeah, Paul wasn't going to make it.

00:29:45

"I'm gonna come--! John...John, I'm--"

Between Paul's legs, John nodded his understanding, even as he let out a shattering sneeze into the skin where Paul's thigh met his hip.

"--'DZSChHew!!

His hand on Paul's cock clenched a little tighter for a second but didn't slow. The other, wrapped with his arm around Paul's thigh, gave a small squeeze too, and that was it. Paul cried out, slapped a hand over his mouth, as his whole body wound into a tight knot and pulled suddenly, blessedly free. He came until his legs hurt, shaking with the effort of tensing up.

"Ohh, fuck." Paul lay flat on his back, panting. His world had gone white for a second, there.

The warm press of John's body disappeared from between his legs, and a piece of cloth hit his stomach. He looked up. John had thrown Paul's underwear at him to clean off his stomach and chest, and he was sitting on the bed, trying to blow his nose.

Operative word, trying. Not much air was getting through, it sounded like. John surfaced, muttered a soggy expletive, and tried again.

It hit Paul straight in the chest this time. Post-orgasm, the sight didn't excite him, so much as it gripped him in a fierce and guilty way. He quickly mopped himself dry and threw away his dirty y-fronts. "Hey," he said softly. His voice was a little wrecked from his strangled cry earlier. He cleared his throat and added, "Come 'ere."

John lay down on top of Paul, not even bothering to check whether he'd cleaned himself off. He sighed heavily when he let his weight settle, his face on Paul's chest.

Paul dragged his fingers through John's hair and held him with an arm over his back. A tired exhale fell from John's mouth, and Paul felt his shoulders stir as he tried not to shiver. They lay there and breathed together, both trying to get their breath back.

"Thanks," Paul said when the silence had started to kill him. "For, um." He drummed his fingers on John's head, as if in thought.

John's cheek moved against Paul's chest. A smile. "Just wanted you to see how it felt," he said. His voice had developed a good rasp, too; real bluesy. Scraped raw, but that was rock and roll.

"How what felt?"

John was quiet. After a pause, he lazily lifted one shoulder. "All of it." He sniffled thickly, uselessly.

It wasn't an answer. Paul knew, though, it was the best he was going to get, and better than he deserved.

But his brain-mouth filter wasn't quite re-formed yet.

"Is that the most you've ever sneezed?" he asked, and immediately the word felt leaden and profane on his tongue, wrong as blasphemy. He was sure John could feel-- could hear his heart thump against his ribs, with his ear on Paul's chest.

John shifted, adjusting his head. "Never really thought... uh, no, actually." He huffed a short, congested laugh.

Paul's heartbeat must have been deafening now. "Oh?" he said, calmly as could be.

"Yeah, it was... remember when I missed the show in Bedford?"

At first, Paul came up with nothing. Then-- oh. That show. A lump rose in his throat.

John seemed to take Paul's silence for incomprehension. "Only the worst bloody cold of me sorry life?"

"Yeah, I--" Paul cleared his throat and swallowed. "I remember."

"Fucking awful. Like here, just now, but for fucking days. I couldn't eat, never mind sleep."

A breath filled Paul's chest without his permission. "...God."

John scoffed, getting irritated at the mere memory. "Then I had to do the mouth organ for Thank You Girl the next day."

"...Did you?"

John nodded. "Took me fifteen takes."

Paul realized he'd frozen. He started stroking John's hair again and tried to relax his limbs. "Really?"

In reply, John nudged his nose against Paul's chest, moving his head to scratch it. He snuffled, still unable to get a proper breath through.

Paul bit down on a crafty smile. His hand crept down John's back, little by little, before finally settling on the curve of his waist.

"You know the best way to clear a blocked nose?"

[fullregalia]

i don’t know about you.

Another year, another round up that I felt obligated to write since I basically abandoned this whole thing in 2020. As we are on the cusp of ‘23--I wanted to share some of the things that made ‘22 worth living. Personally speaking, I’m saving about 90% of this year for my memoir; it was a weird one filled with a lot of firsts! Culturally speaking, Will Smith slapped Chris Rock, I finally watched Heat, and we all learned the word polycule.

Let’s get down to business, what did I read, listen to, watch, and generally consume that was noteworthy this year. 

Books

I didn’t read as much as I wanted to this year, but two noteworthy novels I finally got to were Mating by Normal Rush and Happiness, As Such by Natalia Ginzburg. Of contemporary fiction, I was happy for the return of Selin in Either/Or and bookended my year of Emily St. John Mandel with Sea of Tranquility. 

Music

Do I even need to say that my most listened to artists of 2023 were Paul Simon, Niia, John Coltrane, Prokofiev, and Steely Dan? However I did also enjoy the new Beach House, of course I listened to Benito and Steve Lacy, there’s too much Antanoff out there but The 1975 seemed to tamp down his worst impulses, and after REAISSANCE came out I stopped playing Break My Soul on repeat and now am a Virgo’s Groove bitch. 

Movies

As I noted up top, I plugged a lot of holes in my viewing history this year. Shout out to Blank Check and the Big Pic pods for keeping me in the loop. Movie content and analysis for 2022 is abundant (just see: Fran Mag’s 2022 wrap up), so all I am going to say is, “Hi, I’m Petra’s father.” Oh also: Jenny is the MVP of Banshees or Inisherin, and Eyes Wide Shut. 

Podcasts

How Long Gone... How Long Gone? How Long Gone. It turns out I’m exactly that insufferable. I didn’t buy any merch, and I didn’t see them live--but I thought about it, which is bad enough. Besides that I started listening to Celebrity Book Club and I did go to a live taping of Odd Lots. I shed a ton of crooked podcasts (and it feels great). Sorry, but I need smooth brain. 

TV

Speaking of smooth brain, White Lotus season two was the perfect mix of stupid and interesting to keep me totally absorbed. Shout out to my GOAT F. Murray Abraham and perfect Italian American Man Michael Imperioli. Both were underutilized. Industry season two was the fish t-shirt representation I needed. The Bear was exactly how I cook, so that’s cool. I finally caught up on Barry; my friend and I binged The Dropout during a bomb cyclone while we were in North Adams; and just like that... we got an SATC sequel (remember that?! It was terrible). 

Odds & Ends

By far the most notable point of the year in culture for me was Opulent Tips, Rachel Tashjin Wise’s invite-only newsletter (*flips hair*). Her perspective on style and library of references are neither snobby nor abstruse. She loves self-expression and is generous with her advice. Blackbird Spyplane finally helped me to understand WHY EVERYTHING LOOKS LIKE PUTTY NOW. If you’re not getting your croissants at Brauð & Co in Reykjavik, what are you even doing there? I made a few art acquisitions (quite possibly a cheap Picasso lithograph and a limited edition poster from The Paris Review) my exposed brick looks so Brooklyn it hurts. Out for 2023? West Elm everything ... In for 2023? Taper candles, mercury glass vases, continuing to pile up the LRBs.

That was honestly just a small fraction of the year... but like every year, it’s impossible to pinpoint when the vibe shift happens. It was a weird year! I hope the one to come is filled with even more adventures (I’m going to Switzerland!), fantastic meals (did I mention I got to buy out Laser Wolf for a work event?!), and grailed acquisitions (I FINALLY got a Mimi Vang Olsen x NY Humane Society t-shirt!!!!) for all. I’ll leave with one final note for 2023, we’ll see if any of it comes true.

[i-heart-slashers]

Down Will Come Baby

(Paul x Female!Reader)

TW: implied drug use (mentioned)

For the lovely anon who was my first request. I hope you like it and I thoroughly enjoyed the research for this 🙂 gifs made by me.

Paul was usually the one out of the two of you who handled substances better, whether alcohol or weed, but that didn't mean he wasn't incapable of having a bad trip or getting too intoxicated.

It was never a shock to come home to find Paul spread out on your bed with a cheeky grin and a joint lazily held between his fingers. 

No matter how often you told him to use the front door, he seemed to like sneaking through the window more. Something about it being mysterious and sexy.

Although the scene in front of you screaming anything but that, well, maybe mysterious but definitely not sexy. 

Paul was lying on your bed with the remnants of a used joint on the floor beside your bed. His hands were curled around the bedpost as his body was tightly stuck in the fetal position.

Wafting the smell from the room, you frowned noticing his eyes were shut tight, and he was mouthing words to himself. He looked terrified. You had never seen him like this before.

"Babe?" You call out gently, hoping to get his attention enough not to spook him any more than he already seemed. His lips stop moving as his head turns slightly, indicating he'd heard you. "What's going on, Pauly."

The blond kept his eyes closed but managed to face your direction as he let out a whimper. "I'm in trouble," he whispered with a paranoid breath. "If I let go, I'll fly up to the moon."

Biting back a snort, you realized it was a bad batch of weed. Paul sometimes got pretty paranoid when he smoked too much or had a bad high. 

Usually, he was able to sleep it off but seeing the tears rolling down his face, it was evident that this time wasn't like the rest.

"Shit," you hissed, taking off your jacket. You throw it into the corner of the room before climbing onto the bed near Paul, who immediately latched onto you like a terrified child.

"Please don't let me float away" your boyfriend was freaking out, not realizing he was firmly on the bed with no real way to fly off, nor would he logically be able to get out of the house because of the roof.

"Don't worry, baby, I won't let you go," you promised as you gently pried his hands from you, struggling when his two hands suddenly became like tentacles. 

You pried one hand off only to get caught by the other. For being so high, he sure did move fast.

Kissing him on the forehead, you left him whimpering for a minute while you gathered all the pillows, sheets, and blanket you had. Pilling them together in your room, you quickly formed a fort.

Moving back towards the bed, you crouched and brushed Paul's hair away from his face. You know from experience that bad highs can be scary, and your boyfriend was actually a very sensitive person.

Blue eyes slowly appeared from behind their lids as the blond began to open his eyes, the fear he was feeling was still present, but they softened upon seeing you in front of him.

"Come on, my little rocker," You smiled, pulling Paul to the edge of the bed, hushing his cries before throwing his arms over you and practically dragging him to the entrance of the blanket fort.

Climbing into the fort, you tugged your boyfriend in after you and pulled the blanket down when you were both fully inside. The darkness pulled a whimper from Paul, who was once again holding on for dear life.

Situating yourselves comfortably, you moved Paul to lay his back against your chest as you fully held him on you. Leaning back on the pillows you had stacked, you grabbed your phone and played the only thing you could think of to calm him down.

Baby sensory videos.

Pushing the phone into his hands as fruit started to dance across the screen, you felt his body begin to relax. His hands clutched the phone closer to him as he seemed to come back down to earth.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you let yourself relax, too. You'd had many nights where it hadn't been this easy. Paul, too has been through it when you go off the deep end during a particularly scary high.

All you can hear is his little giggles as you gently rake your finger through his hair while holding onto him, so he doesn't 'float off.' A smile pulled at your lips as he began to hum the tune to the baby video.

Frowning, you suddenly realized the song playing was the tune of 'Rock-a-bye baby' you rolled your eyes at the irony of the song and Paul's needing to come down.

Pressing a kiss to his temple, you began to hum along with him as a broad smile grew on his face. It was nice seeing the happy, cheeky Paul again "and down will come Paulie-" you sang with a teasing whisper in his ear as he let out a small laugh.

There was nothing you wouldn't do for your wild boyfriend, even if that meant hiding out in a makeshift fort, so he doesn't fly away to the moon when hallucinating on a bad trip.

[storiesforallfandoms]

and the winner is... ~ eminem

word count: 1784

request?: yes!

“hey, love your writing sm ❤️ I really like the concept where the reader is a young actress with Eminem, so can I request one where they go to Marshall’s award show for the first time publicly, they try to keep it low key but the reader presents an award and when Em wins they share a warm moment on stage and the media loses it? thanks in advance”

description: in which they say they’re going to be lowkey for their first public appearance as a couple, and then he wins the award she’s presenting

pairing: eminem x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

It was hard to keep my hands off of Marshall as we walked down the red carpet. It was our first public outing as a couple, but Marshall wasn’t very into PDA so we had decided to keep it somewhat lowkey. It seemed like a good idea in theory, until Marshall did the unthinkable and showed up dressed in a suit. How am I supposed to not jump his bones when he looks damn fine in a suit?

Every time I so much as glanced at him the paparazzi would go crazy. So many flashing lights that eventually I was seeing spots. It was hard to keep smiling when I couldn’t even see ahead of me.

Marshall put an arm around my waist - which of course led to more flashing lights - and walked me off the red carpet into the venue. The minute I walked through the doors into the dimly lit room, it really was like I couldn’t see. I had to take a minute to let my eyes adjust to the sudden light change.

“Weird how quickly I go from basically a nobody on a red carpet to a hot commodity just because I have attractive arm candy,” I joked.

A half smile tugged at Marshall’s lips. “You were never a nobody. Not to me anyways.”

“Awe, that’s so sweet it’s kind of gross,” I teased.

This earned me an actual laugh as Marshall pulled me in for a kiss. Without any prying eyes around, we felt free to actually be a couple.

We engaged with some others in the industry, including those Marshall considered to be close friends of his. I felt out of place at this music award show as an actress who was still trying to become more than just a side character in the movies she starred in. I was grateful to have Marshall there to help me through it.

When we took our seats as the show was starting, Marshall reached over to take my hand. “Are you okay?”

I shrugged. “Nervous I think. Which I shouldn’t be because it’s just me announcing an award, but it’s my first time on an award show stage for any reason, and it’s a pretty big award.”

“And it’s one I’m nominated for.”

I looked over at Marshall with wide eyes. “What?!”

“You didn’t know?”

I shook my head. Now I felt so much more nervous. What if I pulled a Steve Harvey and said the wrong name because I wanted Marshall to win? Or what if he actually did win but everyone thought I said he did because we were dating? I tried to focus on the stage ahead of me but my heart was beating so fast that my vision was starting to get blurry. I felt warm, like I was sweating, which made me worry that my makeup was starting to run. I was going to look disgusting with my makeup running on live television.

Sensing my new found nervousness, Marshall gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, look at me.” I glanced over to meet his gaze. “It’s going to be okay. You’ve rehearsed this speech so much that you can say it without the teleprompter. It’s not going to be any different just because I’m nominated. If I win, you give me the award and I do a speech. If I don’t win, you give the award to whoever does and they make a speech. It’s not a big deal, (Y/N), don’t worry too much about it.”

I wished I could’ve just let my fear rush from my body, but it was still there. Before I could say anything else, the lights went down and the show officially started.

I tried to just sit and enjoy the show but it was hard when I had my upcoming presenter role looming over me. Of course, it was one of the last awards of the show, so I had to sit there and let my nerves build as the suspense for the winner of the award grew as well.

Every now and then Marshall would give my hand another squeeze and I would calm down for that split second. Having him by my side helped a lot, but every time I remembered that he might be the recipient of the award I became nervous again.

Finally, it was my time to take the stage. They passed me the envelope with the name of the winner and motioned for me to take the stage. I plastered a smile on my face as my name was called and I walked onto the stage. I hoped the cameras couldn’t pick up my shaking, and I really hoped my shaking wouldn’t make my voice sound as bad as I feared it would.

“This award can only go to the best of the best,” I started, glancing at the prompter in front of me to make sure I was saying the words correctly. “The person who worked the hardest and had the best payoff with their release. The competition this year is fierce, and it was hard to narrow it down to just these five artists, as there have been so many amazing works of art released this past year. It has been an even harder choice to pick who of them all is the best, although I might be bias in saying I’ve already chosen my favorite.”

The audience chuckled at my improved addition to the speech.

“Ladies and gentlemen, here are your nominees.”

I watched the video that played of the nominated artists. My heart skipped a beat when Marshall came up, a few clips from the music videos he had filmed playing in a short montage. He had worked so hard on his latest album, every part of me hoped that he would be the winner I was announcing.

As the video came to an end, I turned back to face the audience (and the cameras) to announce the winner.

“And the award goes to...”

I tried not to let my slight fear show as I fumbled with the envelope for a moment. I started to worry that I wouldn’t even be able to open it and completely embarrass myself on live TV. I tried not to sigh with relief when the seal perfectly popped open and I was able to pull the card out. The smile on my face had to have given away the winner before the words were even out of my mouth.

“Eminem!”

The crowd cheered and stood from their seats. A camera found Marshall, who was standing from his seat and hugging Paul and Denaun before making his way to the stage. I couldn’t help but smile proudly at him as I extended the award I was holding - his award - to him.

I was taken by surprise when he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me in for a kiss. It was brief since he had an award to accept, but it was enough to make my head spin, the way his kisses usually did.

When he pulled away I was still so stunned that I almost forgot to give him his award. I could see him trying to hold back a laugh as he took it from my hands and turned to the microphone.

“Thank you,” he said to the still cheering audience. For a minute I forgot there was anyone else in the room, and realizing so many people had watched that kiss made my cheeks heat up. “I’d like to thank my manager, Paul, who for some reason still backs me with everything I do and produce even when it pushes the boundaries a little too much. I also want to thank the good Doctor, who has been supporting me since day one and who has always believed in me and gave me this platform to make music and to push the boundaries that Paul has to deal with. My daughters, my biggest inspirations. And of course, I’d like to thank the beautiful lady who presented this award to me tonight. I may not show it publicly but I am my happiest when I’m with you and I cannot thank you enough for that.”

I blinked away the tears forming in my eyes as I clapped along with the audience. The music started playing as Marshall offered me his arm to walk me off the stage. I felt like I was floating on cloud nine as we walked down the stairs and backstage, away from the cameras and the thousands of people watching us, both in person and on TV.

We were greeted backstage by other presenters and winners who were still mingling and celebrating their wins. Marshall was congratulated and a few of the other presenters told me how well I did with my presentation. I was proud of myself for getting through it, but I was more proud that I didn’t go completely airheaded after Marshall kissed me.

When we finally got away from the large amount of people, Marshall pulled me in for another kiss.

“So much for keeping it lowkey, huh?” I teased when I pulled away.

“I was caught up in the moment,” he said with a shrug, but I wasn’t completely convinced.

“That speech was uncharacteristically sweet,” I said. “For your public persona anyways. I figured you’d keep it short and sweet and maybe get the show into a little bit of trouble with an unplanned curse word.”

He chuckled. “Well normally that would be how things go. But I meant what I said during my speech: you make me the happiest I’ve ever been. When you said my name I just couldn’t help but feel this unfamiliar surge of happiness and excitement at winning. You know I don’t care about these types of award shows, but the fact that you presented this award to me made me care for just a second. I know I’ll be the talking point for the next few days because of this, but right now I don’t care all that much.”

Tears were welling in my eyes again as I pulled him back to me. “Shut up, you’re gonna ruin my makeup.”

His laugh filled my ears as he pulled me for another kiss. The happiness he said he felt coursed through my veins too. I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else in a moment like this.

When he pulled away he put his arm around me again and started to walk towards the door. “Let’s get out of here. I think I wanna celebrate my win with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.”

I smiled brightly at him. “I like the sound of that.”

[stansethandpaul]

I'm Better For You

Masterlist

Paul Lahote x fem!reader A casual conversation turns into a heated argument, will they be able to mend it or will they let it get the better of them?

TW: Arguing, slut-shaming, the casual jealous argument

This is written for @therandomficwriter and I cannot emphasize this enough but please check out her work, she is honestly a very talented writer and she does not get the recognition she deserves!!

Y/N's POV: A breezy fall night complimented the hot apple cider in my hands, the motion of the wind whipping past me every now and then. Awaiting the pack's return from patrol, I found myself lost in the ambiance of the forest not noticing the figure behind me.

A shrill shriek left my mouth, surprised by the sudden hands on my shoulder.

"Paul Lahote that is not funny, you would've owed Emily a new cup and a new shirt for yours truly." Grumbling as I readjusted myself, wrapping my cardigan around to shield myself from the cold.

"You should've seen your face," Paul choked out as he doubled over before continuing, "You looked exactly like the scream painting." Tears spilling from his eyes as he clutched his stomach.

"Shut it Lahote, one more word and I'll make sure your eyebrows are shaved in the morning," I muttered before going back in for another sip.

Trying to shift the topic, I asked him a stupid question. Well, it didn't seem terrible at the time but...it was really a stupid question.

"Sooooo.. how's that girl that you like? What was her name again? Rachael?" I questioned, my eyes looking straight ahead at the moving trees, ignoring the twinge in my heart and tears slowly coming up.

"I've moved on, she wasn't right for me. I've found someone new anyways, I think her name was...Michelle?" He hesitated, looking to my face before continuing, "How about you? What's your love life been like loser?"

"First of all Lahote, watch your mouth before something worse happens," biting back at his sly remark before proceeding, "I don't know...I mean I used to really like Jacob but with him being so obsessed with Bella...I just don't know anymore, I guess to some extent I still like him. I think I like this other guy too, I just don't know though, he might only see me as a friend, it's difficult to assume my relationship with him." I sighed out before taking another sip out of my cider.

"Is it someone from the pack?" Paul asked, turning his body to me. I scoffed before simply turning away, looking at the road now.

"So it is huh?" His voice raising a bit. "Are you just going to ignore me like that? Are you just a guy hopper now? Now that you can't get Jacob are you just going for anyone now?" Practically yelling now, Paul stood up and pulling my shoulder so I would be facing him.

"LAHOTE WHAT HAS GOTTEN INTO YOU?!" I screamed back before standing up. Confused by his sudden mood swing, one moment he was joking around, and the next thing I knew, we were in a shouting match.

Hearing the disturbance outside, Sam stepped out just in time to see Paul's shaking form.

A booming voice could be heard from Sam.

"Paul I want you to go into the woods and come back when you can think clearly." A simple order that not even Paul could disobey, glaring at me along the way before shifting and running into the woods, snarling.

Tears blurred my vision, confused and frustrated by his sudden outburst. Did I say something wrong?

Trickling down my face, a vile feeling got caught in my throat. It was unfair, why was he allowed to get mad whenever I talked about my crushes even when I haven't shown my distaste towards him? Hell, I've been one of the most supportive people in his life.

I choked out a simple goodbye to Sam before running to my car, handing the cup to Sam along the way. Overwhelmed by it all, all I wanted to do was be in bed.

Speeding off after I started the car, tears seemed to be endlessly falling. I've never once been angry at him for liking someone, even when I liked him myself. I never let it get in the way of his choices but the second I open my mouth about something, I practically get called a whore by my best friend.

Running up my stairs, I faceplanted into the pillow before letting the tears all out. I hate him, I hate him for being so kind to me and so reliable, I hate it. I hate you Lahote for making me fall for you so easily. I really hate you for making me put my feelings second, always.

Drifting off to sleep as the tears glued my eyes shut, exhausted from the events of the night.

Days passed and no words were spoken between us as we avoided each other actively. The pack seemed to be in disarray as they told me how Paul's temper had managed to get worse like it wasn't bad before. Whatever he isn't my concern anymore.

"I don't know Emily, his outburst was just random, it's not something I can explain. But what I can explain is that he's a jerk and I'm not apologizing for something I didn't do," Scoffing while helping her make muffins, "plus, I've only been nothing but supportive of him, I never even told him my own feelings and I was planning to but...well...you know..." My voice trailed off, zoning out on the task before Emily shook me out of it.

"Apologizing is not what I'm asking you to do, I'm just asking you to talk to him again and tell him or something cause knowing Paul and his stubbornness, he'll never talk to you first." Holding my shoulder and resting her head on me while doing her puppy eyes. I sighed, caving in.

"Fine, but you owe me 2 weeks' worth of muffins and breakfast," I demanded before setting the batter down and grabbing my coat, throwing it over my shoulder. While searching for the umbrella to aid me with the rain, I questioned her if she knew where he would be, no clue.

I ran around the house and the usual areas that Paul and I would hang around, but he was nowhere to be found. I sighed, thinking of the cliff as the final spot and deciding to check it anyways. Trudging through the thick mud and the slippery slopes didn't make my journey any easier. Finally climbing up to the cliff, I saw a silhouette standing there.

I walked up slowly to him, standing a few feet behind him before saying anything.

"Lahote, can we talk," I pleaded only to be met with a harsh silence.

"Can we have a normal civil conversation or are you going to keep acting like a little child?" Fed up, I snapped and retorted back at the silence. Paul finally turned around to me, clearly bewildered by my statement.

"Don't call me a child Y/N, especially when you hop crushes like an elementary student." He responded before closing in on me.

"You don't know anything, Paul." Spitting in his face as I maintained eye contact, my head tilting up.

"What do I know then huh Y/N?" Pressing me further back, "I know that you're an attention wh-"

"Ironic that it's coming from you Paul," taunting him and his playboy ways.

"If you would just give me a second to speak and explain before you got your fucking boxers in a twist, we wouldn't be here." I accused, before facing my back to him and watching the trees instead.

"So what I used to like Jacob, every time I mentioned him I saw how your face would drop. Don't think I'm stupid Lahote." Scoffing as I could practically feel him tensing up as I dropped it.

"So what if I like someone from the pack-"

"OH, SO IT'S TRUE HUH?" He shouted before I raised a hand to silence him once more. Just then, it struck me. Was...Paul Lahote...the infamous playboy...jealous? Wanting to prove it, I pushed it further to see his true reaction.

"Why does it matter Paul, can I not like other people? I mean Quil has been looking really good these da-" I quipped before I was cut off once more.

"I'M BETTER FOR YOU Y/N, FORGET HIM, FORGET JACOB, WHY CAN'T YOU START REALIZING HOW MUCH I LIKE YOU?!" The deep voice seemed to echo through the forest as he yelled at the top of his lungs. His breathing labored now as he was truly vulnerable. "I've liked you for so long and, I imprinted on you. Me saying that I liked those other girls were false, I just wanted to see your reaction but you never opposed or showed anything besides being supportive." Scowling before asking again, "Why can't you just not be supportive for once."

A sigh left my mouth, this absolute dumbass. Everyone else has always teased me about how I looked at him, saying that he might find out if I'm not careful enough. I was never careful, I stared at him with admiration in my eyes every minute, waiting for him to realize, but I guess he was half-blind when it came to my own emotions.

I turned back to him, grabbing his face and peering back into his chocolate eyes.

"Paul, have you never seen how I looked at you?" Questioning the poor man.

"No? I thought those eyes were for Jake onl-" I cut him off, lips crashing and his hands moving to my waist eventually. We stood there, lips locked, under the full moon as the rainy cloud parted way to illuminate the two young lovers.

After what felt like years, we broke away.

"If only you weren't so jealous all the time Lahote, we could've had that kiss much sooner." Giggling before letting a yelp out as he picked me up with one arm and slinging me over his shoulder.

"Shut it," muttering something about me being Bella 2.0.

On the way home, I studied his features. Realizing that this hot-headed man was now all mine felt like pure bliss, I giggled before speeding up and holding his hands.

I'd love Paul, through all his flaws, and yes, even his jealousy.

[imaginingmanyfandoms]

Paul's Lullaby | part one

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"Sam?" Paul was, he was in pain. He respect Sam and Emily's privacy, but he needed to talk to Sam now.

Paul wasn't angry, he was in pain. He felt like the world had opened up and swallowed him whole. He ruined his own life, and he didn't know where else to turn.

"Paul?" Sam asked, opening the door. Emily was behind him, face covered in concern.

"I imprinted tonight," Paul said, "but she hates me. She really, really hates me."

"I'm sure it's nothing you can't fix," Sam said, ushering Emily to come closer.

"Sam, I'm not exaggerating, she told me that she hates me. In fact, she should hate me." Paul looked at his feet, but only to try and hide the distress on his face. "If anyone treated her that way I used to, I'd rip them apart."

"Paul," Emily said, reaching out. Paul flinched back.

"I don't deserve your sympathy. I just, I don't know what to do."

"Be patient. Maybe you just have to prove you're a different man now," Emily offered a sad smile, but it was the exact thing Paul didn't want. He shouldn't pitied, he didn't deserve it. He could feel his heart bruise and falter. He broke his own heart and has no clue on how to fix it.

Emily had to go back to sleep, but Sam sat up with Paul for a while longer.

When Paul finally left, it was almost two in the morning. He took off running through the woods, shifting when he knew he was hidden by the tree line. He tried to outrun the heartbreak, but obviously it didn't work.

You were sitting at your desk, staring at your computer. You wanted to work on your writing, but you were so angry at the audacity that Paul had.

You had done everything you could to avoid him the last couple years - and you managed to make it to the first day of summer after graduation. You'd run into him on the beach.

He was just such a jerk, acting like his words had no effect on anyone. Like he could just laugh behind your back and it wouldn't hurt.

But he used to tell people nasty rumours about you. Until nobody really wanted you around them. And then he had to take it that much farther, when you were both fifteen, he took you on a date, acted like he'd changed and grown. And right before he kissed you he said, "I know you fall for it."

That date alone triggered years of trust issues. You'd felt alone ever since.

Back to the beach, he was blocking the trail you needed to head down to get to work on time. You'd hoped that putting your head down and just trying to slide passed would work, but he recognized you. He tried talking to you, but you ignored him.

After taking a couple steps down the path he said, "don't be like that."

This made you look up, astounded that he would even say something like that. Until you finally looked into his eyes, and you recognized how beautiful he was. He also looked stunned, like he'd run into a glass door. He reached out to you, but recoiled, dodging his touch like he was on fire. Somehow, you'd felt even lonelier than ever.

One look at his face and you felt like you were missing something. You tried to keep your cool but you just couldn't. Tears brimmed at your eyes, and his friend Jared Cameron coughed, before walking to the water just to give you two some space.

"Y/N," he said, his voice low and hesitant. Making you panic, thinking he was toying with you again.

"Stay away from me," you warned, taking a defensive step back.

That hit Paul harder in the heart than you would ever know. His soulmate, his imprint, recoiling away from him defensively. He found the person he was supposed to protect, to be needed by, and you couldn't stand the sight of him.

"Just wait a second," he begged, not moving towards you again. He didn't want to scare you.

"I hate you," you whispered, and then louder said it again. And louder again. Until you had screamed it, and the tears had taken over your cheeks. Every time you said it was an arrow to Paul's heart. He nodded, and let you turn around to run off without another word.

You didn't notice him run into the woods, followed by his friend.

You called work saying you had a personal emergency, and then went back home for the night.

Back in the present, you were tearing up at the memory of it. You were sick, you think. Addicted to red flag behaviour because there was no way you were thinking of Paul's hurt face, and feeling bad for causing it. He should feel bad for all the pain he caused.

You looked at the clock, it was almost three in the morning, but you were too caught up in all your feelings to send yourself to bed. You walked to the window, and noticed some kind of animal by the tree line. You lived in the middle of the woods, in an old cabin your grandma used to live in. You moved in when she got sick but never moved out. You liked it. It was cozy. It was private.

Finally relenting, you crawl into bed and did your best to sleep.

The next day, you were walking along the same path on the beach. You offered to cover the shift of the girl who had covered yours at such last minute.

Paul was in the same spot, but alone this time. You tried to walk passed him without acknowledging him, but something stopped you. You didn't want to see him sad again, it hurt you. And it made no sense why, you'd spent two years hating him.

You were only a few steps passed him, so you turned around, gripping the end of your sweater sleeves in each hand.

Paul had his head down, but looked up when he heard you sigh. You were standing in front of him, looking so terrified to speak to him. Paul could've started crying.

"I'm sorry about yelling at you like that yesterday," you said. "I should've just walked away so... sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he said, a flash of excitement crossed his eyes, and you mistook it for something sinister. You tried to remain calm, but you were feeling lightheaded. You just couldn't trust his motives. "I deserved it."

Now that, threw you for a bit of a loop.

Fool me once, you thought.

"I still think we should just keep our distance," you said. "You kind of broke my heart."

"I'm really sorry about that, I was trying to impress the seniors. I was a tool. An idiot."

"Finally we agree on something," you said. He looked at you, and you both let out a small smile. He pushed some sand with his foot. His bashfulness made you want to believe him. "I work just up the hill. You can walk me if you want."

"Can I walk you home when you're done?" he asked, quickly falling in perfect tandem with you.

"No," you said. "But you can walk with me right now."

"I'll take it," he said.

"Why do you want to talk to me anyway? I thought you hated me," you said.

"I could never hate you," he said. "I do hate how I treated you though. Not my finest hour."

"I think your finest hour remains to be seen."

Paul stayed quiet after that. And you were oddly comfortable in the silence. You're not even sure why you invited him to come along, but some sick part of you wanted him to. You wanted to reach out and touch him. His arms just looked so welcoming, and the way he stretched his hand open and shut made you think he wanted the same thing. But you couldn't let him in, not after one day.

"Have a good shift," he said, putting his hands in his pocket.

You smiled at him ,and thanked him for walking you. When you smiled, he smiled. And you caught onto that.

Paul had been standing in the same spot every day to walk you to work. Out of curiosity, on one of your days off, you snuck close to the spot to see if he was there. And he was, leaning against the same railing, in the same spot that he waited for you everyday.

You got comfortable in a cozy little spot in the trees. You wanted to see how long he waited for you. You dozed off before you could get your question answered.

You woke up hours later, when the sun was already setting. You hated walking through the trees in the dark. You started walking on your own, but you had a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. So you swallowed your pride and called someone you knew would answer.

Paul was sitting at Sam and Emily's table, enjoying the dinner she made while waiting for his turn to go on patrol. It was Jared and Quil out there now. Paul could hear Seth snoring on the couch, making him laugh. Things that used to annoy him, didn't really seem to annoy him anymore. Not since you started letting him walk you to work. He even got Sam to let him change his patrol times to make sure he could be there every day.

His phone rang, and with a mouthful of food checked the number. He almost chocked on his food when he saw your number. He answered, hitting his chest to dislodge the food.

"Y/N, hi," he said, big grin on his face as he stood up and walked outside. Behind his back, Emily and Sam shared a knowing look, and he leaned in to kiss his wife.

Paul noticed Jared sitting nearby with Kim, and didn't think too much of it with you on the line.

"This may sound stupid," you said, "but can you walk me home? I don't like to go in the dark."

"You never let me walk you home," he said.

"If this is a bad time, it's okay," you said, disappointment clear in your voice.

"No, no... where are you? I'll be right there." He stepped back inside the house to grab his shoes, but the sound of you gasping stalled his movements.

"I'm by our meeting spot," you said. His grin returned when you called it that. "It's so dumb, I wanted to see if you went there when I didn't work and fell asleep."

"You were spying on me?" he asked. You were silent on the other end and he laughed. "I'll be right there."

"Who are you?" you asked.

"Huh?"

He heard you scream, as did Sam and Emily who's cheeky glances turned to concern quickly. "Y/N?" he asked, panicked. He was already running outside, Sam on his heals.

"Jared!" Sam shouted, "Why aren't you on patrol?"

"Seth said he'd do it!" Jared yelled back. Paul dropped his phone, and shifted, running top speeds to where you said you were.

Never in his whole life had he been this scared. He could hear Jared apologizing for the mixup in his thoughts, but Paul didn't really care what he had to say. If you were hurt, Paul would die. Paul would simply die.

He needed you to be there safe.

I knew something was wrong, Embry thought. Paul didn't even see him show up. Sorry I didn't act on it.

Shut the shit up and run, dammit!

When he got to the meeting point, you were gone, but your bag was abandoned nearby. Paul sniffed it, getting your current scent memorized. He took off when he found the trail. He also smelled a retched, filthy bloodsucker. It wasn't one of the Cullens. No, this was different. And it started at the water, that's how it got passed their lines. Not that they had enough people around.

Paul howled, the pain in it was evident for anyone around. It was him saying get here, or suffer the consequences.

I don't smell their blood, Jared thought.

You don't get to talk about them. This anger didn't derive from a bad temper, it was fear. It was just fear talking.

Paul kept running, catching a fork in the scent trails. One way was Quil, Leah and the bloodsucker. And the other was you, all alone. Alone but alive. If he couldn't hear Leah or Quil think, that was a good sign. Meant that they'd changed back, and Leah would never do that unless she killed them.

Go to her, we'll find Leah. Sam nodded at Paul.

You were crying as you ran, clumsy feet stumbling over tree roots and your own blurred vision totally betrayed you. Someone had come out of the water, eyes red like rubies. And they were so pretty that you just had to look at her. Until the showed her teeth, forcing you to flee in fear. She was faster than you, but you think she was playing with you.

And then if that wasn't scary enough, when she was jumping down from a tree to kill you, a wolf jumped from the shadows and grabbed the woman. And it was her turn to flee. Another wolf jumped out, and you were sure you were a goner.

But it just chased after the other two. Leaving you alone and confused.

You stumbled back to your feet, running as fast as you could towards your cabin. You would be safe in there. Maybe. It was the best you could do right now.

You cried harder when you thought you heard more rustling in the trees. You were at your door, struggling to get your keys out and unlock the door. When you did, you slammed it shut and locked it behind you. You dove over the sofa and kept your eyes on the door, as if that's all it took to keep you safe.

Your phone was lost somewhere in the woods, but you could still hear them. Out there. Maybe it wasn't real.

There was a feverish knocking on your door, and you couldn't peel yourself away from the couch.

"Y/N! Are you in there," Paul shouted. Oh my God, thank everything, it's Paul.

"Paul, I'm coming," you struggled, fighting through your tears to answer. It killed him, but he was so happy you were okay.

You opened the door, and cried even harder when you saw his face. You couldn't hate him now, now when he came running for you. He ignored his usual boundaries and pulled you in for a hug. He was so warm wrapped around you. Your arms were still tucked into your chest. And his totally encompassed you.

"Just breath, honey," he said, rubbing his hand up and down your back. You tried to take his advice, but you couldn't focus.

"You came for me."

"I always will, you can always call me. I will always come running," he said. And you believed him.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" you asked, pushing yourself away from him enough to look up at his face. His features were uncharacteristically soft as they looked down at you.

"Of course," he said. He kissed your forehead, and you felt the instinct of pushing him away - but you ignored it this time.

"On the couch," you said.

"Sure, honey." He brushed his hands up and down your biceps, helping you take a few deep breaths. "I'm not going anywhere, don't worry."

"I don't understand what happened," you said, pushing yourself away from him. "She came out of the water, and then she..."

"It's okay," he cooed, "you don't have to say anything."

"And this doesn't change anything," you said. "I trust you with some things but not other things."

"Some things?" he asked, more amused than anything.

"I trust you with my life, not my heart."

"We'll work on it," he said, pulling you in close for another hug.

"Yeah," you agreed. "We'll work on it."

[requested] [part 2?]

I kind of love this?