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waynes-multiverse · 2 days ago

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I'm way too stoked to write a proper intro, so let's get right into it 😂

“It’s better that you don’t know,” Charlie said.

Not shady at all 🙄 He's such a mess

At least he came to the realization himself, even if his solution clearly isn't well thought through 😅 I can see his good intentions, though. Hope he realizes soon enough that he needs to accept some help 💔

But then to be gone for four months???? 👀 What the hell did he get into?!

So here you sat, in the living room of Dory’s apartment, crying into a jar of Nutella that you’d long ago stopped spreading over the strawberries she’d laid out.

Been there 🤣🤣 (But honestly, eating pure Nutella and just spooning it out of the jar is the fucking best, even though you feel like shit after 😂)

I love that she didn't want to call the cops to protect her brother. I'm glad she sees he's only lost and still wants to help him, no matter what (even when he apparently burns the house down 🙈). It also makes complete sense she doesn't want to lose him, considering everyone she's already lost 😢

She's always so strong and keeps it together because she's always had to do that, but I'm glad she could go for a moment with Russell ❤️

Your nerves had you pacing back and forth across the living room as it rang.

I'm legit freaking out with her. I'd be just an anxious, nervous mess too haha

“What, you wanna make out with him too?” she teased. Your mouth dropped open in disbelief.

DEAD 💀🤣🤣🤣

But yeah, seriously, what the fuck was in those woods they grew up in? Magic water??? 🔥🫠

Dory sniffed as tears welled up in her eyes, looking up at both of her brothers. Colter wore a more reserved smile, but he did wrap an arm around his sister and thump his older brother on the back.

Ugh, I want a full family reunion so badly on the show 😭 Thank you for this 🤍

Your brows rose. “I don’t think so.” Colter’s mouth parted, and he blinked, like he hadn’t expected you to push back quite like that; calm and matter of fact.

Love her 🤍 Also, you captured Colter's personality so well! His reactions crack me up so much. He's either always super focused or gives sarcastic deadpan answers 🤣

“I haven’t seen Charlie since he quit last week,” Jimmy claimed. “He quit?” you said. “They told me he just never came back.” “Yeah, well, same thing,” he said.

No, it's not! God, what an idiot. Help 😂

And again, what the hell did Charlie get into??? Missing artifacts, and now she's getting kidnapped? I hope the guys find them before the bad guys hurt either reader or Charlie.

Also, Russell surely will bite himself in the ass for not just taking her to the bar with them after this 🙈

Gaaaaah, I can't wait to read the next part! I'm on the edge of my seat 😁👏🍿

Every Second Counts - Part 2

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the one you trust to help you find him.

AN: I decided to put this chapter out a bit early due to some Father's Day stuff tomorrow. I was blown away by the response from you guys on Part 1!! Thank you so much. 🥰 I had some trepidation writing a new character, but I'm so glad you guys seem to enjoy where this little series is going so far. It makes me even more excited to bring you the next chapter of ESC! 💜

Song Inspo: “Too Late” by The Paper Kites

Word Count: 5.3K

Tags/Warnings: Shaw family feels, a bit of mystery, tinge of fluff and mutual pining, and a twist…

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 2: “Family Reunion”

The next day after he left, you finally managed to get Charlie on the phone. He implored you not to try and find him.

He claimed he was staying with a friend for now, and was picking up some odd jobs through a connection at the museum—another security guard who knew how to get extra work.

“What kind of extra work?” you asked. You sunk back into the couch in your living room and held a hand to your aching head. You had already lost sleep over this, worrying about where he was and what the hell he was doing.

“It’s better that you don’t know,” Charlie said.

He really knew how to frustrate you to the nth degree.

“Charlie, just come home. Please,” you said. Tears burned in your eyes, choking your words. “I’m sorry for what I said, okay? We’ll figure this out together, I promise.”

You heard him sigh.

“You had a right to be mad,” he said. “I’m the big brother, remember? But I’m…I’m a fucking mess. You shouldn’t have to take care of me.”

“We take care of each other, and you know that,” you said sharply, wiping at your eyes in frustration.

“Listen, I’ll come home when I can, okay? Be good.”

“Charlie! Ch—” The call ended, and you nearly tossed your phone in aggravation.

“That stubborn fucking idiot,” you muttered.

Four months later, your worry was eating you alive.

Charlie refused to come home or tell you where he was staying. The only time you got to see him was when you visited him on his night shift at the museum. You tried to talk him into coming home, but your brother remained stubborn.

“You get that from Dad,” you’d told him once, while watching him eat some leftover meatloaf you’d made for him. The two of you stood outside the museum on his break.

Charlie had smirked at you. “Yeah, well, you share the disease.”

You’d rolled your eyes at that.

But just when you thought you were starting to get through to him, now, he’d stopped answering your calls. For that matter, the museum hadn’t even seen or heard from him in a week or so.

So here you sat, in the living room of Dory’s apartment, crying into a jar of Nutella that you’d long ago stopped spreading over the strawberries she’d laid out. You had a chocolate-covered butterknife in one hand and a used Kleenex in the other.

Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.

“You should call the police,” she advised.

You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t want necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.

You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.

“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:

“Colter, the tracker.”

You hadn’t had a chance to meet him when he dropped in a couple of months ago, but she’d told you about his brief visit to find a graduate student who had been kidnapped, and nearly killed by a professor in the Sciences department for uncovering a flaw in the man’s research. That flaw would have costed him his entire grant, and possibly his career and reputation.

The terrible incident had caused an uproar on campus. Students were released from their classes for an entire day after the professor was arrested.

Now, Dory considered your question with a thoughtful nod. “I’ll call him.”

You were grateful, but your face became pained as something occurred to you. You held up a hand.

“Wait, I just realized I can’t pay him,” you said. You didn’t have more than a thousand dollars in your savings account, and that was for emergencies. Like the time Charlie nearly burned the house down after a lighting mishap with his bong.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry about that,” Dory said. She laid a comforting hand on your arm. “He’d do this as a favor to me.”

“I don’t know,” you replied, your brows furrowing. “That’s a pretty big favor.”

She’d told you what some of Colter’s fees could run up to, but she tried to quell your reservations and promised to call him regardless.

However, the more you thought about it, you already had a phone number in your cell…for the one person who would understand the part of your brother that you might never be able to.

After you left Dory’s apartment, you debated the idea in your head for the entire drive home.

And when you got to the house, you picked up your cell, and you called him. Your nerves had you pacing back and forth across the living room as it rang.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help smiling just at the sound of his voice, smooth and pleased, and a hint surprised.

“Hey,” you replied, biting your lip. “How are you?”

“I’m good. You’ve got good timing too. I just came off a job,” he said.

“Oh really? Where are you?”

“Well, I’m states-side now. Just got back from South America.”

“Oh, wow,” you said, blinking incredulously.

What the hell was he doing there? you had to wonder. Maybe he was protecting some Latin American emissary. Or maybe, he was doing things you didn’t want to think about. Your brother had filled you in a bit about civilian contract jobs in recent weeks, as he’d considered going after those himself.

“They can pay very well, from what I hear,” Charlie had said. “The problem with that is, it kind of defeats the purpose of leaving the military.”

Despite that mildly troubling thought, you tried to focus on the fact that you had this man on the phone at all.

A smile formed across your lips. “Did you get yourself a nice tan?”

“Eh, not really. Was more of a night job,” he said. “But uh…how are you doing? Not gonna lie, I’m surprised to hear from you.”

“Yeah, I’m…I’m not all that good, if I’m honest,” you said.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. You heard the concern in his voice. You steeled yourself before you answered.

“Russell, I’m sorry, but I need to ask you for a big favor.”

“Hmm, this sounds serious,” he said.

“Yeah, it is,” you agreed. When you next took a breath, it came out unsteady. “My brother’s missing.”

It was a bright Saturday morning when you welcomed Russell Shaw into your house. He looked around, finding family pictures, bookshelves, paintings, candles, all things that began to shade in who you were in the comfort of your home.

“It’s nice,” he said. “It’s uh, homey.”

You smiled and closed the door behind him.

“Well, it’s the house we grew up in,” you replied.

You and Charlie had of course inherited it after your parents’ passing. Their life insurance policies had helped pay off the three-bedroom house while you two were still in school. Your grandparents helped a lot back then too, and had even moved in for a time. Now they each had plots beside your parents at Grandview Cemetery.

“You want some coffee? I know you had a long drive,” you asked.

“Sure,” Russell agreed. He followed you to the kitchen, where you put on the coffee pot. You made a discreet glance at him. He looked virtually the same, with that familiar green jacket, jeans, boots, and a Jimi Hendrix shirt. You'd had a feeling he was a classic rock guy.

“Look, not that I wasn’t glad to get your call,” Russell said, “but you do know that I’m not the tracker in the family, right?”

“Dory did offer to call Colter, but I can’t afford to pay him,” you said.

“I could help with that,” said Russell. You raised up a hand to stop him there.

“I don’t want that kind of help from you,” you said firmly. “I didn’t call you for money, Russell. I called you because you’ll probably understand where Charlie’s head’s at. Better than me, anyway.”

He hesitated, but nodded in understanding. When the coffeemaker dinged, finished percolating, you turned to make him a mug with cream and sugar, as per his request.

While he waited for the coffee to cool, he admired you for a moment. Even in a plain V-neck shirt and a pair of jeans, your hair swung up in a ponytail, you were still a sight. (Your lipstick did match your shirt though. That made him smile.)

And Russell could admit, it was good to see you again.

“Me and Colter reconnected recently. Did Dory tell you?” he said.

Your brows raised high in surprise. “Oh yeah?”

The two of you found your way back to the living room with your mugs.

“Yeah. We talked for the first time in…shit, over twenty years,” Russell laughed, raking a hand through his hair.

Not only had he been able to say his piece to Colter about their…family issues, they’d also solved a case of their own, with Colter agreeing to help him find his friend Doug, who worked for the same black ops contract agency as Russell. The Horizon Group.

The aftermath of that still left Russell with a bitter taste in his mouth when he thought of how Horizon would’ve left Doug to rot, if it hadn’t been for him and Colter pressing their luck and digging deeper into who’d taken his friend.

That whole mess had also made Russell begin to wonder if maybe he needed a new line of work after all. But, because the money was just that good, he’d ended up on a new job by the end of the month.

Your voice soon broke him from his thoughts.

“I’m glad to hear that,” you said. You reached over and touched his arm, with warmth in your eyes.

Russell gave you a smile. The closeness between you brought up memories of that dusty bar, and the taste of lime and tequila on your soft, supple lips. But you subtly cleared your throat and took your hand back. He hid a twinge of disappointment.

“So what’s going on with your brother?” Russell asked.

Get back on track, he reminded himself.

You sighed. “Damn Charlie.”

Over coffee, you explained that Charlie took off a few months ago, the night you got back from the bar. You had seen him only briefly, whenever you were able to catch him at the museum after work. He’d been keeping in touch with you on a weekly basis, but now, he hadn’t called in almost two weeks. You couldn’t get ahold of him on any of the numbers you had. They all seemed to be burner phones. Plus, he’d been let go from his job at the museum after not showing up for the past week.

“What’s he into, extracurricular-wise?” Russell asked.

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me,” you said in frustration. Tears prickled at your eyes, and your lower lip trembled. “He said it was safer that way.”

Russell laid a supportive hand over yours, earning your watery gaze.

“And you haven’t gone to the police?” he asked.

“I think he’s gotten into something…dangerous. I don’t want to get him in more trouble than he might be already,” you said. “I just want him to get help for his problems. Physically and mentally.”

Russell nodded. He understood that you wanted to protect your brother. Sometimes though, getting into “trouble” was the rock bottom someone needed in order to face their problems.

“Does he have friends?” he asked. “Some kinda crowd he hangs around with?”

“Not anymore. I think he’s lost touch with his Air Force buddies,” you said, though you tried to think. Your brows furrowed as something occurred to you. “He knew someone at work, at the museum. Another security guard on his same shift. After they cut his hours down to part-time, Charlie said the guy knew how to get extra work.”

“Okay, that’s definitely where we start,” said Russell. “Let me just give Dory a call. If I don’t let her know I’m in town, I don’t even wanna know the consequences.”

You laughed through your tears and tried to brush them away.

“Yeah, do that. I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”

Russell took one look at you, and he tightened his hold on your hand.

“Hey,” he said.

You glanced up at him, as tears clung to your lashes. His heart couldn’t help but clench for you. He really didn’t like to see you like this.

“We’re gonna find him. You’ve got my word,” he said.

You were desperate to believe him. So you nodded, sniffling as you tried and failed to keep yourself together. You were scared, for the first time in a long time.

“All right, come ‘ere,” Russell said. When he guided you into his arms, you went willingly. You pressed your face into his chest to hide your weeping. His hold was warm and strong enough to make you feel secure. Just for this moment, you didn’t have to pretend you had everything handled.

“He’s the only family I have,” you reminded him. He nodded.

“I hear ya. We’ll get him home,” he said. “And I am going to call Colter. Don’t worry about the rest. I’ll square it up with him.”

“Russell—” you protested, but he just squeezed you playfully.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll pull big brother rank. He’s got no choice,” he joked.

You shook your head, but you allowed him to comfort you for a bit longer. Because all too soon, you’d have to steel yourself again. You’d have to be the version of yourself that you always had to be, ever since you were fourteen years old.

You invited Dory over to your house, where the three of you were soon joined by the last of the Shaw siblings: the one you had yet to meet.

Colter made it in time for dinner that afternoon. The tall blonde took up your doorway with his broad shoulders and offered you a polite smile, along with his hand.

“Hi, I’m Colter,” he said.

You mentally tripped up a bit as you shook his hand and gave him your name. Did all the Shaw siblings have to be so damn attractive?

“Uh, yes, please come in.” You ushered him into your home and led him into the living room, where Russell stood from the couch.

“Ahh, there he is,” Russell grinned, slapping his younger brother on the shoulder.

“Here you are,” Colter gestured at him. “Where the hell did you take off to after last time?”

“Ah, you know. Argentina was fun.”

“I’m sure it was.”

You paused in the doorway, just watching the brothers in mystification. Dory shot you a questioning look as she came over from the kitchen. You met her with raised brows.

“What?” Dory asked. A smile played on her lips.

“Do all of you have to be so unbelievably pretty?” you whispered over to her. Dory smirked and bumped your shoulder, nodding at Colter.

“What, you wanna make out with him too?” she teased.

Your mouth dropped open in disbelief. Dory just laughed and moved on to say hello to the other blonde. She pulled him down into a hug, and he reciprocated warmly.

Russell then laid a hand on Colter’s shoulder, as well as Dory’s. He wore a big, proud grin.

“Hey. Look at us, huh?” he said.

Dory sniffed as tears welled up in her eyes, looking up at both of her brothers. Colter wore a more reserved smile, but he did wrap an arm around his sister and thump his older brother on the back.

You smiled. You were lingering by the kitchen doorway. If nothing else, you were glad that this whole mess had been able to bring Dory back together with her family.

You decided to give them a moment, and you wandered back into the kitchen. There you took a beat for yourself, mainly to breathe.

When you again thought of Charlie, you had to wonder just what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

Later, the four of you sat in the living room so you could explain everything you knew so far to Colter. He took all the information in with a pensive expression that didn’t reveal much to you.

“So you said he was struggling?” he said.

“Yes, after he got out of the military,” you confessed. “He had a hard time figuring himself out. I got him the job at the museum, but I don’t think it was enough for him.”

“Why is that?” Colter asked. He saw that you were reluctant to explain. “I need to know the full picture of who Charlie is if I’m going to be able to figure out his probable moves.”

You sighed. “Well, he was seeing a VA psychiatrist for a while. They wanted to put him on antidepressants, but he stopped going. He…started self-medicating instead.”

That part was hard to admit, but it was the truth. You couldn’t pretend it wasn’t any longer.

“What substances?” Colter asked.

“Alcohol, mainly,” you replied. “At his worst, there were hard drugs, but I got him to tone it down just to weed every now and then.”

You bit at your thumbnail out of habit, but you forced yourself to stop, folding your hands in your lap. You didn’t see judgment in Colter’s eyes, just him taking in the information. You couldn’t help but glance at Dory, where you found her sympathy. She knew enough about what you’d been dealing with for the past few years. Russell seemed understanding as well.

“Anything else I should know?” Colter asked. You shook your head. You felt bad about revealing Charlie’s business like this, but you knew it was the only way to help him. Still, you felt you had to defend him a little.

“Look, my brother has his problems, but he’s a good man,” you said. “He, um…he basically half raised me, after our parents died.”

Dory also knew this story. She rested a hand on your back, and you gave her what smile you could.

“How old were you?” Russell asked. He earned your attention, and you met his sympathetic gaze.

“Fourteen,” you answered. “It was a car accident.”

He took that in, nodding slowly. “I’m sorry.”

The way he met your eyes when he said it, you believed him. You subtly cleared your throat and directed the conversation back.

“So, I don’t have a lot of money. But I can give you something for your services,” you said to Colter. Both Russell and Dory met you with similar looks.

“I’ve got it,” Dory says, before Russell had the chance. Colter waved her off though.

“In this case, it’s not necessary,” he said, focusing on you again. “So Charlie was working at the local museum?”

You breathed a note of relief at his generosity. Dory, Russell, and now Colter…they were all good people in their own way. You felt emotion rise in your throat.

“Yes, it’s about ten minutes away,” you managed to reply. “It’s closed now, but his coworker could be on shift. They always have security in place.”

You grabbed your purse to go with them when Colter and Russell stood, but the former raised a placating hand.

“It’s best if you stayed here,” Colter said.

Your brows rose. “I don’t think so.”

Colter’s mouth parted, and he blinked, like he hadn’t expected you to push back quite like that; calm and matter of fact.

“Ah, well, it’s really for your safety—”

“I’m not going to sit and wait,” you said. “That’s all I’ve been doing for months. I may not be an expert tracker, or have been in the army, but I do know my brother. And we are going to find him.”

Behind you, Dory was giving Colter a warning shake of her head. She knew just how stubborn you could be. Meanwhile, Russell came up on your other side with a smile.

“What’s the harm in her coming along to the museum?” he said, sliding his brother a teasing look. “Unless the T. rex wakes up all the mummies, Ben Stiller style.”

You wanted to point out that that wasn’t exactly the plot of Night at the Museum, but you held it in with a smile. You gave Colter an expectant look.

He sighed at Russell’s antics, but he turned to you with a nod.

“Okay, let’s go,” he said.

“I’ll head home then,” said Dory. “Call me if you need anything.”

You gave her a hug after she gathered up her purse.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“It’s going to be okay,” she said, rubbing your back. “Colter’s the best.”

“All right, fine. And what am I? Chopped liver?” Russell remarked, gesturing wide with his hands. You all filtered out of your house, and you locked the door behind you.

“Oh, you’re special, all right,” Dory quipped back, but she gave her eldest brother a warm hug as well, then patted Colter on the arm before she left.

Russell shot Colter a playful smirk. “I got the hug.”

Colter rolled his eyes and pointed over to his big pickup truck.

“Just get in the car, please.”

You had to smile at all their sibling teasing. It reminded you of how you and Charlie used to cut up, when things were good. On your way down the driveway, you hesitated by the Chevy Chevelle parked next to your own car. She was still black and sleek and beautiful.

You happened to glance up, and there was Russell, getting into his brother’s pickup. He winked at you across the driveway. You turned your face to hide your smile (and your blush) as you climbed into your car.

Colter noted the exchange when he buckled up into the driver’s seat. He watched Russell do the same on the passenger side, all while wearing a certain smile on his face. When he noticed how Colter was looking at him, his brows raised.

“What?” said Russell.

“What was that?” Colter asked.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, right,” Colter chuckled. He began to pull the car out of the driveway after you in your car, so he could follow you. “What, do you two have a thing or something? Is that why she called you before me?”

Russell shrugged, but his smile was telling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhmm. Convincing,” Colter said, but his lips tugged upward as well. His good humor diminished though, when he considered the last time he saw his brother. “How’s the arm?”

Russell gave a thumbs up with his left arm—the one that previously had a bullet run through it. It was still healing, even now.

“It’s good,” he said.

“Did you see a doctor?”

“Sure did.”

Riiiight. Another thing Colter wasn’t sure was the truth, but he’d give Russell that one.

“And that unfinished business?” Colter asked.

Russell’s smile faded, but he nodded. “Finished.”

After a moment, Colter nodded as well.

“Okay,” he said.

Something occured to him then. He paused, and he reached into his pocket. He held up a small, closed pocketknife with a wooden handle, and he gave it back to Russell. It had the man's name carved on the side.

Russell's smile returned as he flipped the old keepsake through his fingers.

"Thanks for keeping it safe for me," he said.

Colter smiled back. "Thanks for trusting me with it."

Colter parked next to you at the museum. It was closed, but the security guard, Jimmy, did know your brother.

“I haven’t seen Charlie since he quit last week,” Jimmy claimed.

“He quit?” you said. “They told me he just never came back.”

“Yeah, well, same thing,” he said.

The front doors of the museum opened, and out came Dr. Feinman, your former boss, and the Head Manager. You left Jimmy’s questioning up to Russell and Colter with a meaningful look, and you went to intercept Feinman.

“Hi, sir, how’re you doing?” you asked. Your name fell from his lips in surprise.

“My dear, it’s good to see you, but why are you here after hours?” he asked, his British accent lilting.

“I’m trying to find Charlie. He’s been missing, well, officially for about a week,” you said. “I was actually surprised to see you here so late.”

The man cleared his throat. He smoothed a hand over his tie and suit jacket.

“Yes, well, we could’ve used Charlie’s help. We’ve had to double our security efforts,” he said. “We’re currently dealing with a sensitive issue, so the museum will be closed until it is resolved.”

“You’re doubling your security efforts… Was something stolen?” you asked.

Feinman clearly didn’t want to tell you this, but you knew you’d hit the nail on the head by the look on his face.

“Please, keep that information to yourself,” he said.

“What was stolen?” you asked in concern.

“I’m afraid I cannot disclose that information. Not even for you, dear,” he said. “I do hope you find your brother though.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that, and as a matter of fact,” you began, but Feinman waved an apologetic hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m in a terrible rush just now. But call my office tomorrow and Brenda will help you with whatever you may need,” he said. “Good evening.”

“Wait, Dr. Feinman,” you tried, but he was already breezing past you and heading toward his Mercedes in the parking lot.

Meanwhile, Colter and Russell weren’t having much better luck with Jimmy.

“Look, I really don’t know where Charlie is,” he said. “Haven’t seen or heard from him since he took off.”

“He said you connected him with someone who could give him some work on the sly,” Russell said, leveling a hand at the man’s chest. “Who did you connect him with, and what kind of work are we talking?”

Jimmy blew out a breath, like this was really inconveniencing his day. (Or night, at this point.)

“What, you’ve got somewhere to be?” Colter said. “You’re getting paid to stand right here, and we have no problem sharing your shift all night. You might as well just tell us what we want to know.”

Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck in annoyance.

“All right,” he snapped. “I hooked him up with this guy I knew through a mutual acquaintance, who just needed some muscle. I guess you could call it private security.”

“A mutual acquaintance?” Colter repeated.

“What’re you, James Bond? Who did you connect him with?” Russell pressed.

Jimmy was reluctant to talk. You came back over to join them, and the security guard became even more tight-lipped.

“You guys should go. I don’t have to talk to you, and I’ve got a job to do,” he said.

When he tried to continue his patrol around the museum, you stepped deliberately in his way. You didn’t have the patience for this, and you would no longer be a doormat, letting the Goldsteins and the Feinmans of this world push past you.

“Look, Jimmy, if you don’t give us something we can go on to find my brother, you know where I’m going to go?” you asked. But you spoke before he could respond. “To the police. And your name is the only one I have to give them. Now, if you don’t want that to be you, then give me a different name.”

Jimmy looked down at you, and then over at your intimidating shadows, Russell and Colter. Jimmy sighed.

“Eddie,” he gave, finally.

Russell raised his hands, as if to say, Is that it?

“What, Eddie Vedder? Eddie who? Come on,” Russell said.

“Eddie Mendez,” Jimmy replied in a lowered voice. “I don’t know where he lives. I don’t have his number. And that 'mutual acquaintance' is doing some time in lockup. But Eddie hangs out at a bar called Howley’s.”

You and Russell shared a meaningful look at that. You turned back to Jimmy.

“Okay. What was stolen here at the museum?” you said. “That’s why it’s been closed, right?”

“I don’t know,” Jimmy said. “I wasn’t on shift, and Dr. Feinman keeps a tight lid on that kind of thing.”

“We’ll need to get into his office then,” Colter said.

You blinked wider at Colter. Wait, was he really suggesting you guys break into the museum?

Jimmy pointed to the black device attached to the ceiling above them.

“See the cameras?” he said. “That's not happening on my dime.”

Colter looked up, and he saw the cameras strategically installed across the front of the museum.

“Then take us where the cameras don’t see,” he said.

You, Colter, and Russell were able to break into the museum via a storage unit door, thanks to Jimmy’s texted instructions. You couldn’t believe you were actually doing this, but it was for Charlie, you reminded yourself.

You remembered where to find Feinman’s office. You paid for a lot of your undergrad expenses, namely your books and tuition, by working full-time as an office assistant here, and the occasional tour guide.

You led them to the room where the inventory records were kept. Colter gave you his gloves so you didn’t leave prints, and you were able to pinpoint what was labelled as missing from the latest shipment.

“Oh great,” you muttered.

“What was taken?” Colter asked.

“A collection of Native American weapons. Dated almost eight hundred years old,” you said, shaking your head. “The collection is valued at $1.5 million dollars.”

Russell and Colter shared a look.

“That’s some big motive,” Russell said.

“When did they go missing?” Colter asked.

“Almost two weeks ago,” you said. Your brows furrowed the more you read, as you realized something. “Just a few days before Charlie left the museum…”

The timing wasn’t lost on anyone. But if Charlie was a suspect, Feinman hadn’t let on to that at all. You checked the exact date the artifacts went missing again: a Tuesday night. Charlie didn’t typically work on Mondays or Tuesdays, you realized. And he’d left after the artifacts went missing. So maybe they hadn’t thought to question him yet. One small blessing.

You sighed. With that information gathered, the three of you put back everything you uncovered and left the building the same way you came in. Jimmy was nowhere in sight, probably patrolling the other end of the museum on purpose.

When you all made it back to the parking lot, you turned to Colter and Russell.

“Okay, what’s next?” you asked. “Howley’s right? To find Eddie.”

“Actually, I think it’s best Russell and I take it from here,” Colter said. “We don’t know what kind of character Eddie Mendez is, but from how reluctant Jimmy was to tell us, it doesn’t sound good.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Russell drew closer and touched your arm. You could see in his face that he agreed with his brother, even though he hadn’t said anything yet.

“Look, you’ve been a huge help,” he said. “But let us work on this, okay? We’ll call you when we find something.”

Still, your lips pursed. “Russell, he’s my brother.”

“I know. Punching out drunks is one thing, but this might be a little different,” he said, grasping your arms gently. “Will you give me some peace of mind, knowing you’re home safe?”

He brushed one of his thumbs along your skin. Already you had goosebumps. From the cold chill on the air, or from him, you weren’t sure. But that simple touch, along with his earnest, imploring gaze broke you down.

“All right. I get it. I’m not the Special Ops guy,” you said. “But call me afterward so I know how it went.”

“Okay, will do,” Russell agreed. He let you go so you could go to your car. You shot the brothers one last look before you climbed in and peeled out of the parking lot.

Russell expelled a sigh of relief. He got into the passenger side of his brother’s pickup while Colter started it up.

Thanks to the late hour, and how little traffic there was on the road, it didn’t take you long to get home.

You’d debated whether you should just go to Howley’s anyway, but you didn’t want to get in the way, or make Russell worry for that matter. You smiled, despite yourself.

His touch had tingled across your arms, and whenever he absently laid a hand on the small of your back, supportive or guiding.

Thinking about him just made your heart ache. Because after this was over, he’d be gone again—on a new mysterious job, perhaps on the other side of the world.

You’d been regretting how you left things with him at the bar for months, but now you were glad you hadn’t gone any further with him that night. Your heart was too easily ensnared, it seemed, and Russell didn’t seem to be a “strings attached” kind of guy.

When you parked in front of your house, you let out a tense breath. Russell and Colter would find Charlie. You believed in them. You just hoped your brother was all right, wherever he was.

You pulled your cell out of your purse to call Dory as you headed for the front door. You wanted to give her an update and let her know that you were back at home.

The call began to ring just as you slipped your key into the lock. Unfortunately, you never got a chance to open it.

A strong pair of arms wrapped around you from behind and yanked you back, and a firm hand over your mouth smothered your scream.

AN: 🫣 *Whispers* Sorryyy. But hey! What did you think of the reader's reunion with Russell, as well as the little Shaw Family Reunion? Plus, we got a bit of the reader working with Russell and Colter on the case.

Now, the real timer starts...

Next Time:

You were led into what sounded like a warehouse. You couldn’t know for sure with this musty bag over your head and your wrists bound together with zip ties, but you clenched your teeth and tried to stop sniffling. Your fear made your heart pump fast and loud in your ears.

Voices echoed around you, arguing, yelling about shipments. You were shoved hard to the ground, and you gasped, instinctively throwing your hands out when your knees hit the hard cement.

“No…”

That voice was all too familiar.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3

Series Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Russell S. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad

@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj

@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways

@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato

#wayne reads #russell shaw #russell shaw x reader #tracker

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imistyou2 · 23 hours ago

Text

You look so good next to me. c.sb

pairing: younger otaku!soobin x noona!reader

summary- Soobin wants to know why you won't take it a step further when he looks so good right next to you(or underneath you), so he invited you over to his place.

warnings: perv!soobin, nicknames, otaku!soobin (he loves anime and kpop so cute), kinda virgin!soobin, tit sucking, cum play and cum eating(if you squint), subby sub soobie he's so cute man, soobin has a big dick bwk, flavoured condoms because wrap it before you tap it, soobin crying a lot, playing with his Gojo Satoru figure(a lil nasty), ummm sex?? yeah they smexx, shiver me timbers!!

Part 1- Lemme hear you say please!

Part 2.5 Tummy bulge

This is Part 2 but you can read it as a stand-alone

Your lips smacked together as you pulled away from Soobin's heaving stature. His eyes gently opened, finding yours. Chest rising in falling, touching yours. He could see the shine of saliva on your lips, the same on his. A part of his heart flutters whenever he sees himself on you. His mouth stayed agape, waiting for you to say something, but you just gave a cordial smile before saying the usual, "Okay, that's good enough. See you later, Soob."

"You're stopping it so soon..."

His round eyes look down at your smaller figure, lips slanting into an oh-so-familiar pout: his usual demeanor when you halted these makeout sessions. Your hand twitches slightly, wanting to caress his face and wipe that pout off, but you don't. Instead, you feign a nonchalant shrug before waving him goodbye.

Ever since that fateful night of Seven Minutes in Heaven(which were definitely not seven minutes), you seemed to have found interest in Soobin's company, indulging in a kiss or two and even some tongue tango if he played his cards right- that meaning him being an obedient good boy.

Soobin didn't seem to mind you fondling him every now and then, in fact, the thought he leveled up a notch when you didn't kill him after he pushed himself on you that drinking night. He was ecstatic to know you wanted to continue something with him. Yet, the whispers in the crowds tainted his mind. Yes, you were very popular, he knew it, and everyone knew it. With this popularity came the endless line of men (mostly douchebags, Soobin likes to think) who string behind you like desperate puppies, waiting for attention. They want to kiss you, they want to sleep with you, they want you.

He doesn't understand why a woman like you, who can probably get any guy she wants at the brink of her feet, wants him. Boring ol' Choi Soobin. And if you do want him, which seems evident enough, why do your hands linger a few moments on his chest before pulling your lips back and creating an arm-long distance between the two of you?

He knows how it goes, pretty girls like you make out and then you elude to wanting sex. So why exactly are you not following through?

The familiar shadow of what if lurks in. He is a man who recognizes his characteristics and is very capable of believing that you are simply too good for him.

Is that why you don't want to make love with him? Soobin wonders if you even call it making love, is there any love in there? It's just all meaningless sex to you, he thinks. In his twisted sense of reality, Soobin still wants you to have sex with him- even if it will mean a lot more to him than it will ever to you.

Which is why Soobin now finds himself shoving some food wrappers into the trashbin in his room. He is not a particularly dirty man (at least his room isn't) but he prays that it is clean enough for your liking. His heart thumps lowly, excitement trudging at the edge- he has never brought a girl over to his shared apartment with Beomgyu

He clicks his phone open, fingers tracing the Kakaotalk app to see if you've messaged him about your arrival, instead, he receives messages from his roommate.

Gyutari_beom hyung whens noona coming, imma be back late so that I don't hear all that nasty work🤞 Gojoluvr300 Man stfu, wdym nasty work?? Also idk when she's coming tbh... she just nodded when I invited her over...she should be here? What if she was just kidding and she never shows up? Gyutari_beom chill soobin hyung, always overthinking smh🤦🏻 Also saw noona and jia noona in the cafeteria today, they were talking something about "what a guy would like on her" a sign perchance🍀‼️ Gojoluvr300 man fr? i hope so... Gyutari_beom anyway use protection stay sexy!!! Gojoluvr300 ??? i'm a child of god.

The sound of the doorbell ringing alerted him, his head rising up from his phone screen. He rushed to open the door and there you were. Your stance was lax, fleeting tapping on the faux grass doormat, a little impatient but Soobin never minded.

You had a mini jean skirt and as Soobin's gaze steered above he saw the top you were wearing, a baby pink long-sleeve with a sweetheart collar. His vision lingered there, two small pebbles of indentations poking through the thin material of your top. He gulped, eyes flickering away to the side.

"So will you invite me in or we're gonna chit chat in the doorway, Binnie? It's freezing out here!"

"I-yeah, sorry, come in please." You tilt your head knowingly as you bend down to take your furry boots off. Your eyes never leave him as your fingers fiddle with the boots before pushing them off. Your cleavage is out for display, he can see the dip of your breasts, pink fabric covering right before it reveals a little too much. You did not seem to mind Soobin's eyes on you, smiling from his boyish reaction.

"A-are you cold? Do you want a jacket?"

"Hm, you tell me. Do you want me to wear a jacket?"

"I-...If you're chilly..."

"Well, we have plenty of time to warm me up, don't we?"

"Yes!", he yells back a little too enthusiastically, earning a chuckle from you. He's been keeping track of what makes you laugh these days, trying his best to yield one out of you- a little secret treat only he knows about.

Without waiting for the tall man to lead the way, you trace your fingers on the wall as you begin looking around his apartment. A very simple apartment, nothing too crazy, just like how you had expected. A big couch, a TV, a PS5 lying casually on the center table. As you enter his room, your head tilts in ponder.

You look back up at him, "Didn't know you liked anime." gesturing to the wall littered with various posters, from shounen to shoujo anime. You even spot a few K-pop group albums cluttered on his bookshelf, lying next to the many mangas and anime figurines.

"Y-yeah.. D-do you? I mean it's cool if you don't like it. Should I take these off?"

"I like anime too."

"WHAT?!- I mean oh wow that is very interesting, Noona."

"Aw Soobie, you big goof. You're such a geek, you know?"

"No I'm not! I just really happen to like something, I don't think that's wrong, I also like Kara a lot. Noona do you know about Kara? it's a girl group and they debuted with a song called 'Break It'-"

You grab a Gojo Satoru figurine from the nearby shelf, Soobin nearly shrieks but you give him a hard eye. The head of the figurine is jabbed into the centre of his chest. "Ah, Noona what're you..?"

"Keep talking, tell me about your nerdy shit, go on. You're such a talker, aren't you? Go on then."

The white-haired figurine sends small sharp jabs as it gets dragged down from the top of his chest, being swirled around his clothed nipples. Soobin's breathing deepens, the figure in your hand twisting his plain white T-shirt, bunching it up, leaving his waist exposed. "M-m-my bias is G-gyuri from t-the group, she had blond-d-de hair and and and nghh... Noona.."

Your eyes darken upon seeing free skin, soft and white, the abs you have grown familiar to touch as you please. "Hm? You like this Gyuri girl? huh? She's pretty? Is she?"

"Y-yes..", he stutters over his words before understanding your salty expression, "You're prettiest to me Noona...yes, you you you!!"

You smile coyly, Soobin knew what you wanted to hear and he'd say every word of it so that you kept playing with him. "And I like this anime... It's called Jujutsu Kaisen.. ugh! Noona f-fuck!"

The point plastic head hits his clothed crotch, moving in circles as you feel the area growing bigger and bigger. Your lips salivate from the very thought of his cock. "Yeah? You freak. Having a literal plastic toy pleasure you?"

"Ngh- yeah, I'm a freak, Noona. I'm sorry I'm sorry."

Oh? So he was into this name-calling as much as you were? You push him onto the bed, not before carefully putting the figurine back on the shelf. There laid Soobin, abs clenching as his mouth parted, bunny teeth out on display. His bedsheet was filled with cartoon characters, strongly contrasting with Soobin's red, erotic expression. You got on all fours, inching closer to him like a predator does its prey. Your hips bounce as you pounce on him, his bigger frame being covered only halfway by your body. He groans, rolling his eyes back before licking his lips. You sit on his lap as he remains lying on the bed, pretty eyes searching for what to do next.

You take his arms in one hand, holding it down between your parted legs, and you begin straddling him. "You like that Soobie? My binnie? Oh yeah, look at you, squirming when I've barely touched you."

"Noona you get me so hard, oh-oh~ shit I'll do anything you tell me to just keep going like that you're so perfect, Noona."

Before he knows it, his pants are coming off and so are his boxers. He thinks you're a little faster than you usually go but of course, he doesn't mind. His bare cock springs out, half hard yet still packing in the length of seven and a half inches. You cannot help but wish to see it fully hard again.

The red tip of his cock is shiny, glistening with watery precum that touches his abdomen. You bring your legs around his waist again, sitting right on top of his cock, your clothed pussy touching his warm skin. The jean skirt rides up to the top of your thighs, exposing the thong you are wearing. Soobin tries his earnest to lift his head up to catch a peek but your hands put him down, positioning yourself to be sturdy on him.

You keep rocking your hips back and forth causing him to release muffled moans, like he is trying to stop himself from fully giving into you just yet. Soobin can see the large expanse of your breasts as they jiggle with your moving hips. Your nipples are completely hard now and strain tightly against the thin cloth. They are so round and soft and he just wants to reach out and grab one, though he won't do it.

He knows the repercussions for touching you without your permission.

Your pace increases, biting your lips as you await for his climax to emerge but you stopped by a whining Soobin. "Ngh, no. NO! p-please I wanna take it slow...Noona. Don't wanna cum like this again."

You raise your brows, hips slowing down but they still rock against his hard cock, "Hm? What do you want then?"

He gulps, pursing his lips, and looking to the side, you make out a faint glow of red- something you always loved seeing on his face. "Wanna cum somewhere else...you know.."

"My tits? Sure. You look cute today so I might just let you."

"I mean, somewhere else!"

You look at him deadpanned, what the hell was this kid talking about?

"Ugh, god, inside, Noona. Inside! Inside you."

Your mouth opens agape, this is new. Soobin had never mentioned in the last month of your guys' kindling that he wanted to do anything beyond making out. You had always assumed the poor guy was a virgin, people like him tend to cherish their first time. Why would he want to do it with you? You guys are not even dating.

Your movements come to a halt, a serious expression on your face. "Aren't ya a virgin? Listen I don't wanna be responsible for being too much on you or giving you a bad time, alright?"

"But I wanna do it with you Noona! and...I'm not a virgin! I've had sex before." Your eyes narrow, he continues. "In sophomore of high school...with a girl who was my lab partner."

Pfft. Sophomore year? in HIGHSCHOOL? this man was practically a virgin. Images of Soobin fucking a faceless girl crashes in your mind, you cannot explain why but it leaves a bitter taste. Something about it is just not right, something about Soobin with anyone else is not right- even though it was years before you two had even met.

A scowl forms on your face before you even know it.

"You really wanna do it with me, Soobie?"

"Yes, just you." Oh wow. A sense of nervousness settles in, something you have not experienced with your previous sexual partners. Your body grows warm, lust filling in your desire. Fuck, if Soobin wanted you, who were you to stop him?

You get off of him, taking his hands in yours, pulling him to sit right up. You guide his hands to the hem of your top, he takes the cue and starts slowly pulling it off of you. The fabric brushes against your hard nipples. "Ah~ fuck. Good boy, always so eager."

Encouraged, Soobin takes it off, revealing your free breasts, they bounce a little as the top comes off. His neck moves forward, almost giving into his desires but he pauses, looking up at you. His mouth is parted open, pink tongue waiting to dart out. "Suck."

Your fingers interlace with his black hair, and you push him into the valley of your breasts. The soft fat cushions his face, Soobin would die here if he could. He begins kitten-licking the sides of your breasts before latching onto one nipple. The big black pupils of his stare back at you as he continues sucking. You make sure to notice this subtle change of making eye contact with you, previously it was only you doing the staring.

He's a fast learner, you think and smile. His sucking becomes harsher, desperate even and you see his hips mindlessly thrusting into mid-air.

"Fuck, baby, doing so good. You like sucking my tit's, yeah? fffuckkk. What a nice geek you are, Binnie."

As if agreeing with you, his head nods up and down while he continues his mouthwork. His hands roam around your body, pressing and pulling your skin. His hands reach the side of your hips, his fingers gingerly tracing the stretchmarks scattered on your skin

Your brows furrow, no guy has ever done this. Usually, they avoid it, focusing on your other assets. Your heart beats faster, and Soobin's hand kneads into your soft flesh.

His lips leave with a pop sound, two strings of saliva attached from your hard nipples to his shiny lips. "Was it good, Noona?"

You pat his head, scratching the nape of his neck as he closes his eyes, leaning his head onto your chest. "Really good. Almost too good. What other girl's tits have you been sucking, huh?"

"No, I would never. I never have, I've only done it with you.."

"So you've fucked another girl but only sucked my tits..not even fair.''

He looks down in shame," Let me make you feel good down there too, Noona", he suggests.

"Hm. Maybe another time." Another time, there will an another time? Soobin giddies up in excitement. He looks at you expectantly on what to do next.

"Where do you keep your condoms? Actually, scratch that. Do you even have condoms?"

"I do...they're kinda old though. Yeonjun hyung gave it to me as a birthday gift." You snort, of course, he did.

"Get 'em." He's on his feet, walking around his room to his desk drawer. He pulls out a cute pink box, takes a packet in hand, and hands it over to you. You flip the packet around, "Strawberry-flavoured condoms? seriously?"

"This is all I have...Do you want me to go to the pharmacy real quick and get a normal box?"

"Oh, Choi Soobin, today must be your lucky day because I have to like strawberry-flavoured things." You wink at him. He smiles back before getting on the bed. You get on your knees, stocking his cock a few times to get it hard again. Unsurprisingly, it's flaccidity is gone in no time, the hard cock stretching in your hand as you look at it with hunger. You have half a mind to stick it in your mouth and fuck him just like that but you resist.

You put the condom on with ease and he can't help but wonder how many guys you've done this with in the past. But, he won't ask now, he knows better than to start something that will ultimately upset him.

For the second time that day, you push him onto his bed. His cock stands erect. You slide your thong to the side, holding his cock to your entrance. It's so big, you have a hard time tapping it right wear your juices are. "Noona if you're not too wet, it can hurt...I don't want you to get hurt."

"Silly boy, look me, hm? You think I'm not wet enough?" Two pointy fingers dart inside you, coming out with a wet plop, when you part the fingers a thick translucent liquid strings out. Soobin feels himself get even harder. You were so hot, the thong slid to the side, a sheen on your pussy as you put it to display for him. Your fingers are placed on either side of your entrance before you part your folds.

"Shit, Noona you look so sexy, fuck Noona wanna taste you so badly. I'll be good I promise."

You quickly prod the two fingers into his mouth, fucking into his tongue, mixing it with his saliva. His tongue eagerly sucks your fingers. Soobin doesn't care that your pointy nails hurt a little down his throat, he just wants to taste you and submit to you.

As your fingers work in his mouth, you finally sit back down on him, and his cock enters you. It is definitely quite a stretch, making you arch your back. Your tits jiggle as your free hand presses down on his chest for balance. You get back up, much to his dismay before harshly sitting right onto his cock, the whole delicious length entering you with a swift motion. "AH! ugh fuck yes, so big so big, shit, Soobie, you big freak. Should've fucked you much sooner."

His cock brings a slightly uncomfortable stretch, something you are not used to but shamelessly find hot. There is a burn in your lower stomach from his length but it fills you in perfectly. You begin moving slowly, keeping in mind not to overwhelm the younger boy. You can hear his erotic moans, whimpering stretching into broken cries as you increase your pace.

Your tits bounce wildly as you keep fucking on top of him, you bring a hand to his hair, pulling on it. The harsh tugging gets him to moan even more. His needy voice ricochets off the walls, you can hear him all around you and it has never felt any better. Your pussy engulfs with a type of warmth Soobin has long forgotten the feeling of, it's addicting even. It's so warm and gummy and soft- Soobin would religiously make love to you every day if he could.

"Your pussy's so perfect, Noona. I love it, I love it. I love making love with you." You internally flinch a little with his choice of words. Is that what it was to him, making love? Your body grows even warmer with his words. He gets up, hand on your hips and he begins slowly fucking into you, amidst you bouncing on him yourself. With your permission, his mouth lands on your tits again, he'll get scolded by you later. For now, he just wants his Noona to feel as good as he is.

The entire world seems to have paused, Soobin doesn't care if his neighbours hear him, he has tunnel vision when it comes to you. He can only and only think of your beautiful face and how crazy good you're making him feel.

It is only a few minutes later that his hips begin to stutter and you know he is finally going to cum, you fasten your pace further, sending him into an overdrive. With his own sloppy thrusts, he climaxes, cumming hard. "Agh~ Noona, Noona, Noona. I l-l-ove y-y- it. I love it." tears begin rolling down violently from his eyes, falling on your neck and chest.

"Yes, yes yes. So good for me. What a nice cock, fucking into me so good. My beautiful boy."

Fat tears stain his pale face, and without thinking much you start wiping them off. You kiss the sides of his face, from his jaw to his cheekbones to his nose and finally land on his lips. The kiss tastes salty and you feel more connected to him.

He pants, trying to calm his beating heart. You both stay there for a couple of minutes. His head falls on your shoulder, and you feel the sweat on his forehead and his long lashes tickling you, they were also a little wet from the crying.

Slowly, you get off of him, taking his now flaccid penis out of you. He hisses a little, the sensation being a bit too much. You get a sudden wave of horniness from his expression: fucked out, teary-eyed.

You peel the condom off of him. "Noona, I'll discard it myself, please give it to me."

"Hold on, I wanna try something."

You take his whole cock, flaccid as it is into your mouth. The tinge of strawberry with his salty cum mix together, forming an interesting flavour(you won't mind trying this again)

"Ah, ah, ah, I'm sensitive, please."

"I wasn't lying when I said I liked strawberry flavour." You lick his cock dry from all the cum. And if that wasn't enough, you put a hand around his neck, pulling him on top of you as you guys begin kissing again. The kiss is messy but slow, Soobin tries to put his tongue inside of yours but you're faster, entering your tongue in his mouth instead.

You finally pull away, giving a last-ending smooch on his lips before sitting up. "I better get going now. Where is your bathroom?"

Soobin stays quiet for a few beats before pointing towards his door. "It's right outside the door." His eyes are downcast and even though you take notice of it, you don't say anything. You are back roughly ten minutes later, your clothes on, they have small stains here and there and you hope that no one notices them on your commute back home. You see Soobin unfolding a thick duvet, his bedsheets have also been changed. Quick and efficient? He seems to be a clean man, you observe. His face looks clean now, hair a little wet from washing it.

"Okay so, I'll see myself out then. Catch you later, Soobin." You bite your lips as you look away from him, hands holding each other in awkwardness. It was usually so easy for you to leave after a hookup but it just didn't feel right to get out right away. Nonetheless, you persisted. You do not wait for Soobin's response, turning around to his hallway.

"Wait-! Um, your clothes...they're dirty."

"Yeah, and who's fault is that genius? I'll be fine it's a bus ride home anyway."

"Let me...just lemme give you a change of clothes at least?"

You stay quiet. "Please. Don't want others to see you like that, Noona."

"Sure, I guess."

You sit on the edge of his bed, looking around his room again. You've known changed into a pair of Soobin's clothes: A black T-shirt and some shorts. They fit really big on you but the material is comfortable, it makes you feel warm. Soobin insisted on making you something hot to drink since going out in Winter right after 'copulating' is bad for the body (his words not yours.)

"Why is he doing all of this extra shit?", you ponder internally.

you hear his footsteps come closer, the drink is probably made. After you drink this, you'll go, you won't stay...

"Here you go, Noona. I know you don't like your drinks to be too sweet so I added less honey." You smile and take it from him.

"I-i just happened to remember your usual drink orders, nothing much..haha."

Your nose crinkles as you release a hearty laugh. "You cute little thing, Soobie."

"Um..actually, can you just stay? Like it's really cold outside and It'll probably start snowing soon, you know.. just stay back."

"I-um. Yeah, no. I should probably go."

"I'm serious, Noona. I want you to stay. Please? My duvet is really warm trust me. Like it feels sooooo good." he stretches his hand to emphasize the degree of "good" his duvet feels. You can't help but smile at his adorable expression. He looks so serious yet so cute.

He sets the drink from your hand onto his desk. Without saying anything he drapes you with the thick duvet, it has the same white-haired character from before. He was not lying when he said the duvet was warm, it was fluffy even. He climbs into the duvet, cold hand touching your now warm hands.

"Hey, you're cold, you know?"

"Make me warm, Noona.", he purrs out lovingly as he rests his head on your chest, your breasts acting like a cushion for him. You want to protest but give into his rather unusual charm. You pull the duvet over your head, completely covering you both. Your hand finds itself around his figure, hugging him closer. His cold hand turns warmed, your limbs tangled together. You just let yourself go, finally falling into him, his embrace.

Your mind drifts off and before you both know it sleep takes over, cradling the two love birds into the land of dreams.

An hour later Beomgyu comes in, creaking the door open slightly, eyes peaking in to see two figures fast asleep. He chuckles, not before snapping a couple of pictures on his phone. "So much for being a child of god", he mumbles before walking away.

a/n: unedited. i'm tired. also was the smut good? I've been writing for 48 hours straight so Idk. also part 3 maybe?? who knows. @youmistme for taglist

@imistyou2 2024

#soobin x reader #soobin x you #sub!soobin #soobin smut #txt smut #txt hard hours #sub!idol

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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 3 days ago

Text

chance of showers

pairing: leon x reader

cws: piss, p in v, pee in v, ddlg

a/n: yeah, it was bound to happen, wasn't it? the double sin of ddlg and piss

wc: 1.5k

These days, Leon bids you adieu in the threshold between your typical affection and your faux-innocence facade that comes with a side of fuck-me eyes. That’s when Daddy takes over.

When he comes home from work, he can sense the desperation threatening to boil over into teary-eyed, delirious begging so he gives you an offer you can’t refuse: he’ll be your chauffeur to the not-quite-luxurious sex-filled sanctuary of your shared bedroom. That is to say, he’ll carry you across the hall where he can fuck you stupid without all the back pain that a couch rendezvous would give him.

You greet him with a hug and a heart-eyed grin, immediately discarding all previous activities for his attention. You’ve been gorilla-glue stuck to the TV all day due to the once a week chance to watch all the High School Musical movies on cable — which Leon still pays for — one after the other. He can tell by your antsy legs, shifting from one foot to the other. It’s not nerves– daddy makes you relaxed. No, it’s a cute little pee-pee dance.

“Do you need to do something before we go have some fun together?”

“Uh-uh. I wanna have special time with daddy now.”

“Are you sure? If you need to go pee, daddy can wait for you.”

“I don’t need to go.”

Leon doesn’t need a polygraph test to know that’s a fucking lie.

But, you’re a big girl, or, at least, you’ve insisted that you are whenever Leon challenges that silly little ‘fact’ you’ve tried to manifest into reality.

The reality is: you need daddy’s help, particularly when you’re in this state.

Leon should take you by the hand and lead you to the bathroom, he should tell, not ask. But, it’s like letting your toddler touch the hot stove just once – they’ll learn their lesson and they’ll never do it again.

You’re an adult who has the reasoning skills to know that you should pee. Plus, it’s not like pissing yourself is anything more than an embarrassing moment and a bitch to clean up.

So, Leon doesn’t press the issue. Instead, he has you how he wants you. All fucked-out, your pussy stuffed so full you can see his dick in your abdomen and your brain completely empty of all thoughts (and your bladder so full he could make you burst if he pressed on your stomach with enough force).

As he often does, Leon makes you ride him because he thinks it’s cute to watch you struggle, and he inevitably takes over the job of gripping your hips and pulling them back down to meet his. Over and over again until you think you’re going to pass out.

Your eyes are screwed shut and your mouth is occupied with your constant moaning – until you have an ‘uh-oh’ moment. Leon can see it flash across your face.

“Daddy,” you manage through a shaky voice. “No more, no more.”

The thing is: No more isn’t your safe word. No more is usually what you say when everything feels so intense that you’re overwhelmed and need Leon’s reassurance. He rubs your back and showers you in praise while he continues to fuck you as the unwritten protocol says he should.

“It’s okay, baby,” he says. “You’re doing so good for me.”

“No, no,” you protest, shaking your head vehemently. “Have to go pee, daddy.”

“Baby, we’ve been through this before, remember? The first time you squirted, you thought you were gonna pee, but you didn’t. You liked that feeling, right?”

It’s true. You were absolutely convinced you’d pee yourself the first time Leon made you squirt, but you both suspect this time is different.

“No, I’m really gonna pee this time.”

You’re clenching around him, he can feel it. Maybe you are going to squirt, he thinks.

Piss is hardly the worst thing Leon’s been covered in – he’s 40 years old, old enough to give up on giving a fuck about this kind of thing. And, God, he’ll take any chance to tease you.

“Didn’t Daddy ask you if you needed to go pee earlier?”

“Yeah.”

“And what did you say?”

“No.”

“Was that a lie? Did you lie to Daddy?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, since you made your choice by yourself and didn’t want daddy’s help, you’re not gonna get it. You can hold it until I’m done with you.”

“No, I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I can’t.”

“Then, I guess you’ll just have to let it out.”

“No, no, no, no, no. I don’t want to. I wanna hold it.”

Go right ahead, he thinks, as he continues to fuck you, completely disregarding your desperation. He wants to see you break and at this point, you’re doing anything to hold back, on the verge of tears.

“Daddy, I’m sorry,” you start to cry as warm liquid trickles out of you, coating his cock little by little as pee continues to flow from you. You only leak a little in the grand scheme of things, but you’re humiliated, full-on crying to the point where it’s worrisome.

Finally, he slows his thrusts.

“Hey,” he rubs your back soothingly. “It’s okay. You’re not in trouble. I told you you could do it. I’m not mad at you.”

“It’s so embarrassing.”

“There’s no reason to be embarrassed. I bet it felt good to let go. Didn’t it?”

“A little bit… but I still have to go more.”

“Then, go, baby. Let it out.”

Because, one, it doesn’t matter at this point – he’ll have to change the sheets anyway. And, two, he finds the whole ordeal a bit more arousing than he suspected he would.

When you dare to make eye-contact, you’ve got doubt written all over you, like you think this is some sort of trap or a sacrifice of his comfort for yours.

“Go ahead. It’s gonna feel good.”

Nervous, but desperate, you have to let go.

Leon praises you as you finally allow yourself some relief, releasing short bursts and then a steady stream.

“You’re doing so well for me, baby. Let it all out.”

When the torrential downpour slows to a leaky faucet, his thumb finds its way to your clit and he resumes his thrusts, gaining momentum steadily.

Your next revelation is not an ‘uh-oh’, just an ‘oh’ in a series of incoherent moans.

“Daddy, daddy, I’m gonna-”

“I know you are.”

Neither of you can be sure if your next release is pee or squirt but what matters is that you came, squeezing Leon’s cock so perfectly that he’s barely hanging on by the time you’re coming down from your high.

Usually, he asks you where you want it, makes you beg for it inside, and he finally gives it to you, but now, his face is already buried in the crook of your shoulder as he’s given into the pleasure.

He fills you to the brim, ruins the bed a little more for the sake of a heavenly orgasm. It’s totally fucking worth it every time.

After a moment of silence, he pats you on the butt and says, “hop up, baby”.

“No,” you protest, wrapping your arms around him.

“Baby, I’ll come right back, but I gotta pee.”

He laughs a little at the irony. It feels cruel in a way to make you piss yourself while he gets a more dignified experience.

You’re ready to even out the score, quick to turn the tables.

“No,” you insist. “You can either hold it or wait until I’m done with you.”

Leon should’ve anticipated your smartass move.

“You really want me to piss inside you? ‘Cause that’s what’s gonna happen if you don’t let me get up.”

It’s a threat, it’s a promise, it’s a plea for you to let him go.

“It’s only fair,” you say.

“Fine,” he concedes, repositioning you so that you’re on your back. Yeah, he could get up, he could win now that he’s on top, but maybe there’s a part of him that wants to do this. To make you regret your attitude when you find out what it feels like for Leon to piss inside you, to prove something to you, to punish you – there are so many excuses, but the truth is: the idea excites him.

“You ready?” he asks – though the question is more directed at himself as stage fright begins to creep up inside him.

“You can do it, daddy,” you say, voice full of genuine encouragement rather than your previous taunting tone.

So, he does. The release is double the relief with your warmth surrounding him as he lets go. You look awfully curious, almost in awe of the fact that it’s happening, especially since you can’t exactly see it – at least, not yet. But Leon’s feeling the type of relaxation that less obstinate people get from meditation.

“All done,” he says, knowing that’s a fucking lie, but pulling out anyway, letting the last droplets hit you on the stomach.

“Daddy!” you say, amusement barely hidden behind your mild vexation.

“Sorry,” he says with a shrug and a smirk that says he’s anything but.

“I think it’s time for a trip to the bathroom. We really need to shower,” you say.

“Hey, I just gave you a little bit of a shower, baby. If you wanted more, you could’ve asked.”

But that kind of shower will have to wait until next time.

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader

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maythedreadwolftakeyou · 2 days ago

Text

(DATV thoughts with spoilers ahead; i think my tags will keep it filtered but just in case it doesn't since i dont want this in the actual game tags)

i just... man. i don't have a well formulated thought for this yet (and its my PERSONAL OPINION and other people can feel as different as they want, this is not an attack) but it keeps bouncing around my head, so. i know the popular thing right now is coming up with in-universe justifications for The Pantry Almost-Kiss Scene in ways that imply Lucanis didn't mean it/it doesn't represent him as a person/he was Faking It.

and i just don't like any of them. they make me sad!!!!!! i don't like the idea that one of the like 4 romance scenes we get in this game is him Pretending in some way, even if he does at that point like Rook back at least somewhat. None of the justifications i've seen make me feel Better about that being the point where we declare him as a romantic interest, which is what it is in the game, functionally. It doesn't lock you in yet but that point IS where the game says "they will take your flirting more seriously now". I did those same scenes for Davrin, Emmrich, and Taash and this is the formula the game uses (the "interrupted almost-kiss/confession" happens for almost all of the companions).

so if the answer for Lucanis' is "actually he stopped because he Didn't like what he was doing/feel that way yet" or that he felt he had to pretend for Rook's sake... it's kind of a letdown you know? esspecially when it comes right after what seems like an actually authentic moment (dispelling his "perfectly gathered clouds of doom"). Because, at that point in the game from my/Rook's perspective, it was like he finally was reciprocating. It made me hope that he'd acknowledge whatever was between him & Rook more in future scenes, especially because you get so little else from him at any other point, in terms of flirting back/showing you he IS interested. like up to that point I felt kind of bad for continuing to flirt at him, when he'd just change the subject right after! if someone did that in real life i would take it as a hint to stop. This is pixels and not real people so I didn't but they have done "reluctant/fearful interest" better in other characters if that's truly what they were going for in this one.

so after finishing the romance and getting the rest of content... idk. I don't like saying "one of the major chunks of characterization we get needs to be Thrown Out Actually because he was Pretending". because it's not like he or Rook ever actually address it in game--you just don't get to talk about feelings until some dialogue choices only in the act 3 romance scene, and then his speech at endgame (not even a full conversation, so much as his personal declaration). like it takes until the VERY end of the game for him to say the thing about "he was afraid to want you", but that comes after you've already hooked up, even.

I think truly what annoys me is that it's a story choice that can only make sense in HINDSIGHT not AS PLAYING. Only once you have all the scenes can you say "this one is out of character" and then you either have to accept it as bad writing, or come up with some in-universe justification to explain it... and so far none of the in universe ones feel good to me. i wish they did because maybe then I'd be less annoyed, rip. but at the end of the day i think even if there was some intent there, it was a poor choice for his story arc, because it doesn't effectively convey anything... and the reason why we can project a lot of different explanations onto it is simply because it is never addressed again (and again, Lucanis Dellamorte is NOT A PERSON he is a CHARACTER used to further a story for you the player, and so the reasons I don't like this choice are story-level and not a dig at how real life people feel or act).

So yeah at the end of the day. that is simply not a narrative device I would ever personally use in this way on a player/reader. certain kinds of hindsight revelations have their place (see: what the devs tried to do with Varric though I also think that falls apart on close inspection, but at least it has justification in-universe), but for a romance it just makes me embarrassed for Rook. In a game where you don't have nearly as many back-and-forth conversations with characters and have to resort to eavesdropping on them talking to each other, it's sad that one of the like 5 times you actually get to talk to Lucanis one on one we're maybe supposed to believe he wasn't being authentic, and also that Rook can't respond to this ever. It would be different if it had any kind of follow up, imo. or honestly as i've said before i would rather it have been swapped out with something entirely different or where we get to talk about their feelings instead, before i get labeled as one of the "people mad he's not Zevran 2.0/a sexy latin sterotype".

But having to step back to player-level analysis versus in-character analysis when looking at his whole romance arc just feels sloppy. but i'd much rather stick to "bad writing" than "intentional character choice" in terms of how to interpret the scene I guess, at this point, for poor Rook's sake. and i know people disagree with when I've said that before bc as much as I love Mary Kirby in other areas, she has said many times that she doesn't like writing romance, and I think it really does show here. As much as I love Lucanis and the scraps we got I wish I didn't have to do so much filling-in-the-blanks on our own.

#like... ive been trying for weeks to come up with reasoning that feels better than “He Is Faking It And Rook Believed It (What A Sucker)”#so far i think. with a lot of extra work/headcanon.#i could buy it as a trauma response about it being the first non-harmful touch he experiences since the ossuary #and not expecting himself to get anxious halfway through/not intending to need to bail out #but i haven't fully formulated that yet. but man does the “pretending” angle hit wrong for me :(#fine if other people like it! it just makes me feel sad :(#ramblings #lucanisposting #lucanis dellamorte #jade plays dav #dav critical #veilguard critical #bioware critical #discovered i have already been Blocked by ppl for my previous Lucanis Takes so might as well cement the deal i guess lol #dragon age: veilguard /#dragon age: the veilguard /#datv spoilers #da4 spoilers #i THINK that kind of tagging works for keeping out of tags but on post filtering???? i hope. anyway #also i LOVE being Sad about bioware romances in other ways (Solas; Thane; etc) so its not Just That its specifically feeling Tricked yknow

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cuubism · 21 hours ago

Note

Can I pressure you to work on the 'having a job sucks ass' math AU fic?

yeah 😂 i started working on it when i was annoyed with my job. which is always

here's a snippet from earlier in the fic, because i think the later part i'm working on won't make a ton of sense out of context

[ make me work on one of my fics if you want ]

Dream shuts his laptop as Hob approaches. Oh, yeah. He was definitely waiting for Hob, specifically. Hob is getting the sense that he’s in trouble. And he’s not stupid. It’s not hard to guess what has Dream upset.

“Look,” he starts, “don’t even—”

“Hob Gadling,” Dream interrupts. Yep, that’s the trouble tone, the one Hob used to get when he did shit like giving himself a concussion playing pick up football on the quad. “It is ten p.m.”

“I own a watch too, Dream,” Hob says tiredly. Does Dream think he wants to be working this late? He’s just trying to stay employed.

Dream’s lips press into a thin line. And Hob knows him well enough, can read him well enough to recognize that what’s underneath the annoyance is concern. But what exactly does Dream expect him to do about it?

Hob sits down—more like collapses—into the armchair diagonal to where Dream is on the couch. God, what he really wants is to just fucking face plant into bed, not deal with this.

Christ. When did he start thinking about talking to Dream as dealing with?

Then again, this is less talking to Dream and more arguing with Dream, and he fucking hates doing that.

He scrubs his hands over his face. “It’s far away, alright?” he argues, though it sounds more like a whine. “It’s not like I can teleport.”

“It is not acceptable that they keep you so late,” Dream says. Then his tone softens. “I worry over your level of exhaustion. That is not even mentioning the commute.”

“Honestly, the commute’s not the worst part,” Hob says. “Gives me more time to get stuff done. Or fall asleep.”

Dream gives him a flat look. “Precisely.”

“I don’t want to hear judgment about work ethic from you of all people,” Hob snaps. God, he hates arguing with Dream, he hates it. It’s not like when they bicker. And it’s not like arguing with anyone else. The thought that Dream is upset with him is genuinely distressing.

“I think I of all people am uniquely qualified to give it,” Dream says.

He’s not wrong. Dream is a workaholic if ever there was one. It’s something Hob’s had to talk to him about in the past. Frequently, in the past, Hob was the one who was better about it.

It’s just that having this job is a level of relentless he couldn’t possibly have anticipated.

Hob can’t just quit though, even if he is overworked. It’s a good job, career-wise, and it pays really well, and he wants Dream to be able to keep his post-doc position without worrying about the salary because Dream is just quite frankly not cut out for anything where he isn’t able to work independently at least ninety percent of the time and Hob doesn’t want to see him suffer, and he wants them to be able to buy a house someday—

“Look,” he says, before Dream can suggest that he actually quit or something, “Dream, we’re making fucking bank, okay?”

Dream raises an eyebrow. “We are?”

“Yeah, we’re married, or did you forget?”

“It’s your money.”

“The joint bank account says otherwise. Half of it is yours.”

Dream frowns, then gets a wicked look in his eye. Oh no. “Does that entitle me to half of your suffering as well? Do I get half a say in whether it continues?”

“That’s not the point—”

“Are you going to watch me suffer half your exhaustion and do nothing about it?” Dream challenges, steamrolling right over him. He’s impossible to argue with when he really gets going. And great, now he’s employing that look. That pleading look that he knows Hob can’t say no to, eyes wide and helpless. “Will you leave me to my agonies?”

“Alright,” Hob says, pressing his hands to his eyes. “Enough. Stop joking around.”

“I’m quite serious. I don’t wish to see you suffer.” He crosses the room, kneels in front of Hob’s chair, and takes Hob’s hands, bringing them down from his face. “Your unintended comparison was more apt than you realize. When you prosper, I prosper. When you suffer, so equally do I.”

“Should have been a fucking poet instead of a mathematician, Dream,” Hob says. It shouldn’t come out as bitter as it does.

Except— “Maths is poetry,” he says, echoing it just as Dream says it, too. Hob had known he would.

It makes him smile, that he can predict Dream like that.

#hob's never beating the provider instinct #poor dream in this is like a neglected cat that just waits at the door like 🥺 all day while its person is gone #poor math idiots having to deal with adult problems. horrible #complex mathematics #my writing #ask #tj-dragonblade #is it 'maths is' or 'maths ARE'? is it plural

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 2 days ago

Text

Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Daryl helps you reignite the Christmas spirit as best as he can.

A/N: This started as an incorrect quote inspired by a friend and her epic battle with a christmas tree. You can find the quote here. A special thank you to @shadowcitrine for allowing me to bear witness to this gladiator battle to the death. It was the hardest I have laughed in a long time. And furthermore, thank you again for allowing me to use your suffering to my creative advantage. I love you. ❤️

🎶Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree🎶

“How ya even know when it is anyway?” Holding the hex nut up to eye level, he turned it over between his fingers. Yep, that was the one. He placed it in the designated spot and fitted the wrench, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he worked.

“I don’t, but it’s mid winter and it’s snowing and why not? Don’t be so bah humbug, Daryl.” You chuckled at his expression. He never knew he was making it and you never told him. He would certainly make every attempt to stop and it was far too adorable to allow that.

“I ain’t.” He grumbled, sitting up to scrutinize his own work. A droplet of melted snow landed on the apple of his cheek. He didn’t seem to mind, if he noticed at all. The roof of the old stall was known to leak. “Just—never understood it, s’all.”

Your smile faded. “You never had one.” You didn’t need him to confirm, and he didn’t. Not verbally. The way he paused with the wrench halfway to the bike spoke volumes. After a heartbeat, he cleared his throat and continued his work.

The holiday wasn’t something that had been celebrated in the several years since the turn. Truthfully, no one had paid attention. Some of the children likely didn’t even know what Christmas was. The thought had always made your heart heavy but there had always been something standing in the way of any reclaiming of the holiday.

“We should celebrate this year.” You blurted, not even really realizing that you had spoken out loud until Daryl scoffed.

“Good luck with that.”

“I’m serious.” Crossing the space between the two of you, you crouched and balanced yourself with a hand on the bike’s front tire. “Come on, Daryl. It’ll be great for the kids. Hell, maybe it’ll do everyone some good.” He sighed, allowing his hand to fall away from its task. The pout you pinned him with was certainly what did him in.

“Fine.”

Biting your lip in the center of a beaming smile, you lunged at him, almost toppling him over with the embrace. “Thank you!” Daryl nodded and patted your back, still awkward in his reciprocations of your touches even after so long as a couple. It was endearing.

“Yeah, yeah. Whaddaya need me to do?”

With a firm grip on his upper arms, you pushed him back to arm’s length. “You’re gonna be Santa’s little helper! Come on!”

Daryl scrubbed a hand over his face and gave a heaving sigh. “M’a regret this.”

It had taken six days and four supply runs to gather enough decorations for at least your own home to be decorated. You enlisted the help of some of the children for drawings and crafts that could be used as well. Though you wished you could color the community in lights and garland, your space would have to do for that first year.

Your hope was for it to coax the holiday spirit from within the adults and inspire a sense of wonder from the little ones. Even with all the effort, it seemed so lackluster. And Daryl, bless him, was granting a valiant effort toward your endeavor.

You had just pulled some cookies from the oven—gingerbread men for the kids to decorate with what little frosting and candy you could manage—when there was a knock on the door.

“Yeah, one sec!” You called, pulling off the oven mitts to discard them on the countertop. A spared glance into the living room had you smiling. The multicolored lights you ran for a few hours each evening cast a brilliant illuminance across the door and then Carol’s face when you opened it. “Hey, come on in.”

Her boot had barely touched the floor on the other side of the threshold when a loud crash sounded from the living room. “What was that?” She queried.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it!” Came Daryl’s gruff response before your lips could even part. Carol’s eyebrows shot toward her hairline before another thump thud crash could be heard.

“What was that?” She chuckled.

“You’re askin’ a awful lot’a questions for someone who ain’t even in the goddamn room!”

Try as the two of you might to withhold, you broke out into laughter. You hid your knowing smile behind your hand. “Daryl’s putting up Christmas decorations.”

“No I ain’t!” He shouted with obvious annoyance. “M’playin’ “whose dick’s bigger” with a plastic fuckin’ tree!”

More ruckus echoed, and you finally decided that maybe your archer needed some assistance. “Are you okay in here?” You chortled, rubbing your lips together in an attempt to maintain a straight face.

Daryl was chewing his bottom lip in earnest when his eyes met yours. There was no anger there, but something more akin to embarrassment. Tilting your head, your nose crinkled and brow furrowed. What on earth could he be embarrassed—

Oh.

The tree leaned to one side, bare spots where lights should be, limbs missing and broken on the floor. No matter the battle, it appeared the tree had won. Carol was snickering behind you, shushed by a wave of your hand and a stuttering ssh as you tried not to join her.

“It looks—” You began.

“Like it needs a stage name.” Carol finished for you. You turned to her again, your smile belying your admonishing tone. “Something about it seriously isn’t right with Jesus.” She laughed heartily.

“He ain’t got nothin’ to do with this.” Turning back, you could almost see a pout decorating his handsome face. “May be his birthday but this is my tree!” Oh, how hard it was not to tease him. “Why couldn’t he just’a got a cake like everybody else?”

“Daryl!” You gave in, nearly doubling over.

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with a lighter and some beeswax.” He grumbled, petulantly yanking his arm away when you laid your hand on it.

“It’s got character.” You assured him, face mockingly serious. Arms crossed, you stood next to him, head tilted to match the lean of the tree. “Like an extra in the Nutcracker.”

“One ya ain’t gonna let dance in the front.” He mimicked your pose, appearing a little more at ease—almost as if he himself might laugh. Carol joined the two of you, three sets of eyes studying the colorful disaster.

“It really says something.” She affirmed with a hint of amusement.

“Yeah, says m’sorry.” Daryl huffed. Smiling genuinely, you switched the tilt of your head to the other side, your temple resting against his shoulder.

“I love our little crooked tree.” Your smile broadened when you felt his arm move and come to rest around your shoulders, his lips pressing into your hair. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, comfortable in his embrace, but the excited yays from Judith and RJ broke the trance, your already upturned mouth splitting into a beaming smile.

“Uncle Daryl, we have a tree!” The young boy exclaimed, jumping up and down. You had explained the gist of things to a group of children, delighting in their excitement when you promised to try your hardest in reviving the season.

“Sure do.” He sounded almost proud, sparking something warm inside your chest.

“How about some cookies before we invite everyone over?” You offered, your eyes on the children before finding Daryl watching you, a corner of his mouth upturned.

There almost wasn’t room in your modest home for all the townsfolk but you made it work, serving stew and desserts and heaping helping of cheer. The laughs and smiles were all you had ever wanted for the community, the desire to uplift their spirits and inspire hope where so little had remained.

“Hey.” Daryl breathed against your ear, his arms wrapping around your middle. All teeth and crinkled eyes, you laid your head back against his shoulder and just watched. “Think ya did it.”

“We did it.” You corrected him, angling your face upward to kiss his chin, his whiskers comfortably scratching your lips. He hummed.

“Got a surprise for ya.” Daryl stepped back, arms releasing their hold only for his hand to find yours with a gentle tug. A curious expression crossed your face.

“A surprise?”

“Mhm.”

It took no coaxing for you to follow him to the door, watching him open it with sheer excitement reflecting in your bright orbs. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but to see his bike, strategically wrapped in garland and bells under the gentle peppering of snow was not it.

“Oh, Daryl.” Your bottom lip quivered, your voice trembling. “You did this for me?” The tears that began to escape were unbidden, born not of sadness.

“Well, yeah.” He kicked at something nonexistent on the porch, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Y’deserve something too.” Your smile was dazzling but dimmed after a moment, expression falling as you watched him. “What?”

“I didn’t—I couldn’t get anything for you.”

Daryl stepped into your space without hesitation, the side of his forefinger below your chin while his thumb stroked your cheek. “Got all I need right here in this house.”

“Daryl.” You sniffled, a sob cut off by his lips on yours. The kiss was chaste, the taste of sugar and smoke so deliciously Daryl that you felt your heart flutter.

“C’mon, let’s take ya on a sleigh ride.”

With your hand in his, he guided you to the bike, your eyes wet and your heart full. Not even the cold winter wind whipping against your face could erase your smile.

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