#it’s fucking mouth pain too so on top of everything else the ed feelings are back LIKE?

[putergenius]

[astroboots]

period sex with soft marc☹️☹️🥺🥺 him being so sweet n praising you😭😭😭😭 hed take such good care of you<3 i need him

Take Care of Me

CO-WRITTEN WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Content: explicit as fuck. Period sex, Marc's competence in overdrive.

Word count: 3k words

ASTROBOOT’S MASTERLIST | THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMS' MASTERLIST |MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST

Painful is an understatement.

If you had to describe what your period felt like to an alien who had no understanding of human biology this is how you might describe it:

Imagine a battalion of tiny sumo wrestlers duking it out inside your uterus.

Imagine a never-ending game of tag between a horde of stomp-happy elephants using your stomach as the running ground.

Imagine the two allegories combined, but multiple it with three, and imagine having it every month from the time you're a young adolescent until (if you're lucky and god is merciful) it will end when you're in your fifties.

As you lie in your bed, curled up with a hot water bottle tucked to your lower belly, and whine into your pillow, you are convinced that this is some kind of divine punishment. You must have been bathing in virgin's blood to retain youth in a past life. Because you don't know what else you could've done to deserve this. And if you weren't, then if there is a god in heaven, they had better beg for your forgiveness when you get there.

"Want me to make you a cuppa love?"

You drag your face from where it's buried in the pillow to peek up at Steven's worried face.

Big brown eyes gaze down at you with so much concern, he must think you are on your death bed. He's been taking care of you all day. Pampering, coddling, and fussing over you.

He's been refilling your tea before you have time to even empty the cup. Reheating the hot water bottle every twenty minutes before it even has a chance to drop in temperature.

It's incredibly sweet. But you're so tea-ed out at the moment, you think 90% of your body composition is tea at this point.

"'m good."

He frowns, biting down on his lip, and you can sense his worry from bed. "If you don't want tea maybe some hot chocolate? I can even toast some marshmallows on top and I have a packet of biscuits."

You consider his generous proposal for a second or two.

In all honesty, you feel too sick even for chocolate, but you have a feeling that turning down chocolate will truly make Steven think you're dying and try to call the ambulance. So instead you answer, "that sounds lovely Steven."

His whole face brightens up, and he leaps to his feet and darts towards the kitchen.

You close your eyes to the raucous sound of pots and pans being pulled out. In the background, the sound of something crashing clanks out from the direction of the kitchen. It's followed by Steven's familiar comforting voice cursing "bugger" and "oh no," but you're too tired to check for yourself what's going on, as you drift off to sleep.

In your dream, you're wrapped in a comforting warmth. There's a gentle pressure on your stomach and limbs that takes all the pain away. Strong and tender, all at once, you want to linger in this sensation forever.

It's not forever, of course. But your nap lasts long enough that you get a bit of respite from the pain. When you wake again, it's to the distinct smell of burnt sugar lingering in the air.

Strong hands traverse over your hips and stomach, kneading at your sore and aching muscles with a perfect pressure that feels like heaven.

He's sitting at the foot of your bed, with a posture so upright, it's almost militant. The man doesn't need to open his mouth with his Chicagoan accent for you to know it's Marc who's sitting next to you right now.

"Where's Steven?" you ask.

"Put him on a time out. Nearly burnt down the place, trying to torch some marshmallows."

You smile at the image Marc is painting for you. That explains the burnt smell.

"How are you feeling," Marc asks. His hand roams from your stomach to the plane of your thighs. It has everything tingle pleasantly inside of you.

"Better," you tell him. "It feels really good when you do that."

His hand stills for a second, eyes drifting to his own hands. "Want me to keep going?"

You barely have to nod before he starts up again. Large hands covering the insides of your thighs as he presses down with just the right amount of strength.

The sensation spikes across your nerves and rides up your spine until the tense knot in your stomach that has been terrorizing you all day unfurls.

You gasp at the sensation, back arching into his touch for more. "There, there, don't stop."

It's maddening how good it feels. Marc knows your body like a map of a continent that he's explored every corner of. His hand drifts ever so slightly, fine-tuning his touch that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

It's the relief you've been begging for all day. Each press of his hand erasing the blunt ache that's been digging into your flesh since you woke up this morning.

That large hand of his, smooths over your bare stomach. The sweet warmth of it soothing any leftover pain that is still there until he cups over the soft fabric of your underwear and replaces it with an altogether different ache that has you squirming and squeezing your legs together.

His hand stills. "You want me to stop?"

"No!" you shout, louder than you intended or expected.

You clutch at his wrists to keep them on you. You're pretty sure that if Marc stopped touching you, you'd combust and die from frustration on the spot. Pretty sure that whatever the equivalent of blue balls is for ovaries is about to descend upon you.

"No, I just..." you flounder for a minute, not entirely sure what to say. Face warm as you say try to find the words. You don't know why the thought is so mortifying to you.

"I'm on my period." You manage to mutter out.

Marc cocks his head to the side, one eyebrow raised. He looks genuinely puzzled at what you've just told him. "I know...so?"

"It'll make a mess," you tell him, and you don't know how he's so casual about this. God knows your neat-freak of a boyfriend hates a mess. "I don't want to ick you out".

Ick him out? Why do you sound like a kid on the playground talking about cooties?

There's no worry in Marc's eyes as he observes you. None of the big round doe-like eyes of Steven. His eyes are narrowed, honed in on your face.

"Fuck the mess," he says.

There's a simmering heat in his voice as he says it that makes everything between your legs slick and achy as he leans even closer to you. "I want to make you feel better. You okay with that?"

You nod and the tip of his fingers skirts the edge of your panties before slipping inside. Despite your earlier embarrassment at the idea, your breath stutters with anticipation.

You're so fucking wet. Slick and hot, as his thumb presses down and has sharp electricity crackle down your spine. You find yourself spreading your legs wider for him, and Marc is more than happy to take it as an invitation.

Two fingers slide inside you, filling you perfectly, until you realize you feel a slickness trickle down the heel of Marc's hand.

"Fuck, Marc-- wait, it's--" you squeak in alarm as you feel it drip between your legs. "It's gonna get on the bed."

He doesn't stop, fingers continuing its languid pace on your clit, as he keeps stroking it to the pace of his liking. His mouth is on your neck, hot and humid as he murmurs into your skin.

"You really think a little blood is gonna keep me out of that pretty little pussy? Open up for me baby, let me take care of you."

And god...

You do. Of course you do, you'd do anything Marc asks and wants from you when he speaks to you in that tone and register. Your legs spread even further, tilting into his doting touch as he slides his fingers deeper.

Heat simmer all along the length of your spine, brandishing it with pleasure that has you struggling for breath.

His other hand comes to cup your face, while his fingers are still busy circling and gently strumming at your clit. He makes it seem so effortless as he does it.

There's no hesitation in his movements, two fingers bracketing your clit and he gently slides and teases you there that has that all familiar warmth already furling in your lower abdomen. Insistent and never rushed, you feel his fingers everywhere, until he brushes over something devastatingly good that has your vision go white for a brief moment.

"That's it baby, you're alright. So good for me, you don't have to think about anything else. All I need is for you to feel good. Come on my hand," his voice rasps in your ear.

Smooth and calming. Loving and commanding.

You don't stand a chance.

It's all it takes.

You drown in it, your climax claiming your limbs as the sensation streaks down your legs and wraps around your bones. You shake and jolt in his arms but he holds you there to him, not letting you pull away as you squirm away from the overstimulation and makes you ride the high against the palm of his reassuring hand.

He comforts you through it. All gentle caresses and soothing hushes as he presses his soft lips on your forehead.

"That's my good fucking girl."

Through the haze of your bliss, you reach for him. One finger hooking onto his belt to drag him closer.

You're too out of it to fully register what you're doing or properly express what you want. All you know is you want more of him. More of Marc. More of his sturdy firm weight on you. The warmth of his skin pressed against you. Of him, inside you.

"Want my cock baby?"

You nod, and much like before, Marc immediately complies.

He always does. Never does deny you of anything.

One hand comes to the front of his jeans, and you don't have to wait long for him as he pulls himself free of his jeans. Cock hard, and jutting up proudly that has you salivating at the sight of it.

Gripping his cock in one hand, Marc kneels over you, notching the fat tip against your entrance. The moment you feel him, you forget about any shred of hesitation you had just moments earlier about making a mess.

Because right now you don't care if you ruin Steven's sheets and leave a crime scene behind you. Every single thought in your mind has been replaced by the overarching need to have this man inside you.

He leans over, arms bracketing you in as he presses into you, stretching you, inch by perfect, beautiful, fucking, inch that has you seeing stars even in the daylight.

You feel him everywhere, every slow thrust and cant of his hips pressed so deeply into you, you're not sure you can breathe. You cling to every inch of him, legs wrapped around his waist, not wanting to let go but not sure you can take more of him either.

Full, you feel so fucking full.

"Too much?" Marc asks, eyes examining you, making sure you're alright.

You don't know how to answer him. It is a lot. So much, with all of him, every perfect inch of him filling you to capacity. It's too much and yet you want all of it and more. Want more and want him to never stop. So you tell him exactly that.

"No. Don't stop, don't stop," you beg. "Keep fucking me, please."

One big, warm hand settles low on your stomach, before it wanders, brushing teasingly through your folds and oh-so-gently over and around your clit until you think you might scream.

You bite down on your lip, worried that if you actually do scream, he'll stop out of worry. You squeeze your eyes tightly shut, trying to calm yourself but it only makes it all the more intense.

Behind closed eyes, the pleasure surges through your chest, and you can feel every careful and calculated movement that Marc makes as he slowly drags his cock out of you, until only the fat head rests inside you. Then he pushes back inside again, just as slow and it has tears stinging your eyes.

Slow and thorough. Deep and controlled. He's murmuring in your ear the whole time, his voice low and rough.

"Relax for me baby," he tells you, "I'm gonna take care of you like I always do. Fill your pretty pussy with my cock until you feel all better, okay?"

Better doesn't begin to describe it. You feel good. Feel so good you're overripe with pleasure that seems to be bursting along the seam of your skin.

The hand on your stomach, presses and holds you in place as you start to squirm against him to goad his fingers to where you need them.

But even when he complies, giving you what you like he always does, zeroing in on your clit, his caresses stay light and gentle. His thumb barely brushes over you, as he keeps the pace agonizingly slow and soft that have you shivering and shaking in his arms.

The taunting pleasure builds ever so slowly in your core. The light and teasing touches too much and not enough all at once, and your oversensitive, overwrought cunt clenches and flex endlessly, squeezing down around the thickness Marc’s cock.

You can feel his body jerk over yours each time, and you revel in the soft grunts and gasps you’re driving from him, because surely, surely now he’ll let go and fuck you fast and hard until you're crying.

But he still doesn’t. Doesn't lose control. Just presses gentle kisses to your shoulder, murmuring over and over again. "It’s okay, I got you, Going to make you feel so good".

He says it like a promise. As if he isn't already doing exactly that. He's making you feel so fucking good. So good that you can hardly stand it. So good that you're writhing in his arms, clutching and clawing at his arm and hand and wrist, not sure if you're trying to push him away or pull him closer. But it doesn't matter, he might as well be a stone statue for all the hope you have of moving him anywhere he doesn't want to you be yet.

You can feel the all too familiar tension in his body. Those strong thick thighs as hard as iron between yours. You swear you can feel the furious pounding of his heart where you're pressed back against his chest. Or maybe that's your own pulse pounding loud and frantic in your ears, but it doesn't matter, because you know he's close too.

"Fuck you feel so good," he murmurs into your skin and if you didn't know better you'd think he sounded shaky.

The pleasure builds, streaking up your torso in little lightning bolt pulses that tighten your nipples to achingly hard little points and steal the breath from your lungs.

The heat of Marc's body against you is unbearable, his hot breath and lips sliding over your shoulder, your neck, the curve of your jaw, and all the while, his fingers, those clever, competent fingers keep up their slow, ruinous circling, driving you higher inch by devastating inch.

You can't breathe anymore, can't see, can't think to the point you're pretty sure you can't feel your feet. Do you even have feet anymore? The only thing that's grounding you is the security of Marc's arms wrapped around you, the quiet cadence of his voice, whispering low and soft and still oh so sweet in your ear.

It's too much. Everything in you winding higher and tighter, filling you so full of pleasure that you swear you'll burst, but somehow still you don't. Can't. You need–

You clutch at Marc, gasp out a garbled sound that might be his name. You want to tell him that you can't stand it, that you need more, need all of him, everything that he has to give, but you've lost the ability to speak.

Instead, your body tells him for you, your cunt squeezing down around him, and refusing to let go. All of you drawn tight, tighter, tightest.

There's a breathless, "Oh. Baby. Fuck." in your ear, and Marc's hips jerk against you. Just once, the tiniest upward hitch. But it's enough. It's more than enough.

The unbearable, blissful tension holding your body hostage shatters, and wave after wave of unparalleled rapture roll though you, sharp and sweet and endless. The breath you didn't think you had left leaves you in a loud keening cry, that's echoed by a low, pained groan, and you can feel Marc's cock swell and pulse as he spills inside you, unable to resist the calling of your body's climax.

You ride out your orgasms together, your hips grinding needily into his, his fingers gripped harshly into your flesh, until the seemingly endless pleasure finally releases you both from its grip and you collapse back against Marc's solid bulk.

The arms around you relax, his clean hand smoothing over your belly and thighs. His voice hoarse and low, but still so, so syrupy sweet and gentle as he reassures you that you're okay, that he's got you, that he'll always be there when you need him.

You're boneless against him. Arms lying limply by your side on the damp mattress. Every bit of tension wrung out of you, like an old flannel that been wetted and twisted dry one too may times; worn out, but warm and cozy and relaxed.

"Feeling any better?" Marc asks eventually, arms tightening ever-so-subtly around you.

You don't have it in you to answer him with words, but you manage a small, contented giggle, snuggling back further into his embrace and tilting your head back to nuzzle his jaw.

That seems to be enough for him. He cranes his neck to press a soft kiss to your lips, then settles back, and the two of you stay there, cuddled together, warm and content and sated.

Content... just so fucking content, except...

Content is an understatement to what you're feeling wrapped in Marc's arms like this.

If you had to describe what this moment felt like to an alien who had no understanding of human emotions this is how you might describe it:

Imagine snow falling outside and you are wrapped up safely in a heavy blanket around your tired limbs.

Imagine the smell of freshly made pancakes and coffee brewing (just the way you like it) in the morning after a hangover.

Imagine all of that combined and it still wouldn't even begin to do it any justice.

A/N: Thank you nonny for this ask, literally when you sent it I was having the period from actual hell and was in tears and wailing and crying in bed. This was a really nice escape to write this oneshot with TWP.

[indouloureux]

thinking about an overstimulated and fucked out eddie :((( poor baby’s got his back against the headboard and his wrists handcuffed above his head. he’s naked, pale skin flushed pink and glistening with sweat under the waning sunlight that’s creeping through the window blinds. “baby,” he pants, inky curls clinging to the corner of his lips as he pleads with desperation. “please – can’t take any more.” and it’s true: he's spent. you’ve already made him cum three times back-to-back and now his cock is begging for a break as it lies limp against his torso, red and weeping with cum.

"aw, honey," you coo, straddling his thighs. "it's okay," you promise, brushing away the stray hairs glued to his mouth and tucking them gently behind his ear. you take his face into your hands and stare deep into his eyes. "mama's done playing with your cock for now," you say, fighting back a wicked grin at the sight of his eyes becoming darker by the second. "i'm gonna try something else," you tease, and without another word, you kiss down his jaw, the expanse of his neck where you nibble gently at the skin. you take your time as you work your way lower, lightly pulling his nipple between your teeth and licking playfully around his belly button. eddie's not so sure of your intentions, however, and he can't help but shoot his head back and groan. "please," he begs again. "told you i can't take anymore."

"shhh, baby," you continue. you gaze right into his eyes as you plant a chaste kiss on the tip of his cock. "i told you, i'm done playing with your cock." but then he sees it -- that glint of mischief in your eyes as a smirk quirks the corner of your lips and you raise his legs so that his feet are flat against the bed and his knees are in the air beside you.

without another word, you drag your tongue across his sac, laying kitten licks all across the skin. "mercy," eddie whines, squeezing his eyes shut yet raising his hips to give you more access. but then you practically bury yourself between his legs, nose under his balls, and let your tongue slide against his taint.

"fuck," eddie cries out, hips bucking. "mama," he chokes.

but you just hum with pleasure and let your tongue take in his taste and scent, the musk and sweat filling your senses. you can feel his whole body twitch with each flick of your tongue over his warm, tight hole. and as expected, his cock starts to grow harder and heavier, the poor thing still ruddy from all the work you've made it do.

sigh. okay, whore 😪

18+ mdni. cw: mommy (mama) kink, sub!eddie, overstimulation, ball play, oral (m receiving)

eddie's wrists feel raw already. it's been scraping against his handcuffs for the past hour, but the pain numbs out and all he can think about is your mouth all over him.

his alabaster skin painted with purple-yellow bruises, almost like a heart as they're scattered all over his neck and chest — one over his spider tat, one on top of his happy trail, and most of them on his neck and jawline that he doesn't even care about; he'd wear that shit proudly.

legs spread and body limp, he's practically sitting against the headboard just so he could look at you — you and your mischievous smile, your swollen lips and your bare ass wiggling in the air, your tongue flat on the vein of his cock as you drag it from his base right at his gummy tip.

"mama, please," he throws his head back. "please please please, i'm done. i can't-" he hisses when you place a featherlight kiss on his slit. "-can't take it anymore baby, please."

"i know, i know," you coo, resting a hand on his thigh. eddie doesn't mean to jolt, he was just too surprised. everything in his body felt nothing, and for the past hour all he could feel was just the heat that scattered over his dick. "mama's done with your pretty dick now, eds. jus'- just gonna do something else, 'kay?"

fuck, with those intoxicating, crystallized eyes that look up at him like he's the devil himself, how could he say no?

you're kissing your way down in hopes of mending the sensitivity you caused on his poor cock, watching as his face struggles to decide between pleasure and pain, but his moan's amalgamated with both as you hover down.

eddie sees your mouth hovering over his sack and before you know it, his dick plops down to his happy trail, and you're taking one of his balls into your mouth and sucking.

he mewls, sobs even, tears brimming the edge of his eyes and his limp wrist flinches up when his hands form into fists. eddie wants to grasp your hair badly, his own mane sticking into his sweaty skin, itching the nape of his neck but he's thinking about your mouth and your lips and how wet you probably are. he can fucking smell it.

your saliva lathers across the loose, sticky skin of his balls as you alternate between them, moaning with him. his cum seeps down your nose, some of it across your forehead; his whole body burns with delight, his toes curling, and that masochistic pursuit singes itself in his brain. he no longer cares about how spent his cock feels.

"so good, baby," you hum against him, pulling and sucking at his sack, fighting the urge to pump his still throbbing and hard dick once more. "doing so good for me, yeah? tell me how good you are, honey, c'mon,"

eddie's breath hitches, his head hitting the headboard. he feels himself tiptoeing the dam of his orgasm again, his foot levitating in the air. "'m a good boy. such a good boy for mama. fuck, baby, your mouth feels amazing. just- jus fuckin' use me like that—shit,"

you're shaking your head to fit both of him into your mouth an he does. your own eyes rolling to the back of your head, one hand of yours slipping down between the mattress to touch yourself slowly, focusing more on your hedonistic expedition to make your boyfriend feel good.

"i'm gonna cum," he warns you. "fuck, mama, gonna cum. please,"

"okay, baby," you move away from his sack, though letting your vacant hand fondle with it salaciously. "cum for me," you whisper, bending down and lifting his cock when your mouth suctions around his tip.

he spills into your hot mouth not a second later, his salty spent swimming down your throat and some frothed across the thick muscle of your tongue as you drag it across his angry mushroom head.

you pull away with a pop, swallowing all his cum which makes him moan out loud, his cock now softening.

"your turn, please?" he begs. "want you to sit on my face, mama. come on, wanna be a good boy and make you feel good. want you to squirt all over my face."

reblog if you want a part two (or just send an ask lol)

[darylsgirl]

He’s just like the sun. Daryl Dixon x Reader 18+ Smut

*Second ever Fanfic! Exciting! I hope you guys enjoy this! Please let me know if there is anything you’d change about it or anything you like! I would love some tips on how to improve!  I will warn it does get pretty dark at points, but the story just kind of got away from me again haha! Younger reader and Older Daryl for the anonymous request! Hope this has lived up to your expectations! Hope y’all having a lovely day <3*

Warnings!: Domestic violence, Heavy cursing, Violence and Smut 

Summary: Daryl had saved you from a herd of walkers, When you reached Alexandria he became distant and you started dating Spencer. He stayed away from you fully until Carol brought it to his attention that Spencer could be hurting you. Long slow burn. Smutty ending with Confessions of love :) 

Part Two              Part three 

“Good morning baby” He said rolling on top of you kissing you swiftly. 

“Good Mornin’ Spence' You replied squirming uncomfortably.

He enveloped you in his arms around you pulling you closer to him. 

“Sorry Spence, but carol’s expecting me. I really have to go!” 

His eyes flashed dark, He finally released you. “So just Carol? Or is there anyone else you will be seeing today?” 

You pushed your hand to the back of your neck rubbing it uncomfortably. “Urm yeah i think it’s just carol, She did say something about Rosita popping by to give us a hand” 

“Well you know what to do if anyone else turns up right? Or should I remind you?” He said with a smirk now. 

Your eyes met his panicked now “No i promise only Carol and Rosita. I know what to do i promise baby”

Ugh you hated calling him that but you knew it worked. You looked back at him and could see your words had placated him for now. Running to the bathroom you quickly got ready for the day, Checking over your appearance in the mirror you were satisfied that everything would look normal to anyone looking at her. You tucked your shirt into your jeans wincing as you did to make sure this didn’t rise up and left the bathroom. Sighing a breath of relief when you saw that Spencer had gotten up and left. Running a hand through your hair you ran downstairs, laced your boots up hastily, Leapt off the porch and headed towards Carol’s house.

You always loved your days with Carol, She was the most incredible woman. Tough, unrelenting and takes no nonsense but yet the mother of the group and loves everyone unconditionally, You’re pretty sure she would die for any one of you. She made you feel safe and at ease which is two feelings that were hard to come by these days. 

Smiling as you saw Carol in the front garden digging. You ran over and saw that there was a tray sitting on the porch with two cups of tea and some pancakes waiting. She nodded towards the porch “Go on help yourself Y/N. I'll be over in a minute” Another reason you just loved Carol. She. was. The. best. Cook. Even something as simple as pancakes you knew were going to be delicious.  “So I heard through the grapevine it’s your birthday soon?” Carol asked. You smiled at her “Yeah,I’ll be 22 on April 16th. Not that i’m even sure when that is now” 

“It seems silly now but sometimes i wonder what it would of been like to have my first drink, Never got a chance with the end of well….everything”

Carol looked over at you and checked the calendar. “Deana told me the date when we got here and I've been marking it ever since. Looks to be a week on Tuesday! Got anything nice planned?” “Nah, Just another day to me now!” You said shrugging. 

“Is Spencer planning anything?” 

“Um not sure, I don’t think i’ve told him if i'm honest”

“Well tell me then. If you could have anything in the world what would it be” 

You smiled the answer coming so easy to you now “A sunflower, I would really love to see a sunflower again” 

Carol nodded at you. “Now that would be something” 

Smiling happily again as you sat down you pulled a plate of pancakes on your lap and ravenously ate groaning as you did. “Carol, these are sooo good. What’s the secret?” 

“Y’all know if i tell you, i’d have to kill you” She said with a light hearted laugh and a wink. 

You had quickly finished your plate using the tea to wash it down. You thanked Carol, Grabbed the tray and walked in to clean the dishes. Carol followed in behind you talking about the day’s tasks. You didn’t really pay much attention as you were happy to do whatever as long as you weren’t stuck at home or with him. 

That’s when you heard him “Mornin’ Carol any o’ those fer me?” You body froze with fear, You needed to get out of here NOW. You scrubbed the plates and mugs as quick as you could and set them on the side of the sink to try. Spinning around you grabbed a dish cloth and wiped your hands. “I’m so sorry Carol, I just remembered I promised Spencer something, I have to go. I’ll see you soon?”

You started making your way briskly towards the door when a hand grabbed your wrist. “Y/N There a problem here?” You were too scared to look him in the eye, Those were your weakness so bright and beautiful. “No Daryl, Just cant be here” You muttered staring at your feet silently begging him to push and save you, But in true shy Daryl fashion he released your arm still staring at you. 

Carol cleared her throat “I thought you had made a promise not that you couldn’t be here?” She walked over to you, also staring at you intensely. “Same thing, Not allowed. Promised Spencer” Carol’s eyes burned looking at you she grabbed your face pulling your eyes up to meet yours. “Not allowed?” She asked softer than you expected. You nodded your head slightly “Please Carol i have to go” You begged her scared. She gripped your face tighter, Her eyes wandering quickly across your face. You ripped your face from her hands and Carol gasped. Panic building in you again you turned and ran through the front door with Carol and Daryl hot on your heels. 

As you hit the pavement you ran straight into him, You froze again,Fear in your eyes, your eyes downcast..

Spencer looked at you then looked at the porch seeing them both there he wrapped his hand around your lower back digging his nails painfully into your side. You jumped slightly. Spencer put his lips to your ear and whispered “Smile and wave and say goodbye to your friends” Putting an emphasis on the word friends. Tears stung your eyes. 

You looked up at carol placing an unconvincing smile on your face, “Bye guys, Thank you for breakfast Carol” The second the words had left your mouth Spencer was dragging you by the hip back to the house your eyes still not leaving Carol’s in a wordless plea. 

Back on the porch Carol turned to Daryl “Fuck, We gotta do something about that” “Bout what?” he asked puzzled “God Daryl you can be so blind sometimes!” “Didn’t you see her neck when she was leaving, Those bruises were finger marks. I’d bet my life on it” He looked over at Carol shocked “He like Ed?” She nodded mouth forming a thin line “The one thing that bastard was good for is he taught me to see the signs of that evil in others, That fear was mine not too long ago” She continued “We can’t just get involved that won’t help we need to watch him and catch him at it so he can’t make her lie” 

Daryl felt like something inside him had broken, He couldn’t believe that prick was doing this to her, To Y/N, A Girl like that deserved to be treated like an angel. He wished he could have told her how he felt before all this and saved her the pain. 

He had loved her from the first moment he had laid eyes on her. He had been the one to find her when they were on the road to DC. She was alone trying to fight off a herd of walkers with a determined look in her eye. Daryl had known he wasn’t supposed to get involved; he was supposed to be just observing and reporting back to the group. But the look in her eye  had made him charge forward “Hey!! Over here! Follow me!” She hadn’t even given it a second thought she just ran towards him and swung her leg over the back of his motorbike and they had ridden off. It had happened so quickly neither of them had the chance to wonder if the other could be dangerous. They both had connected at a base level without suspicion. 

Daryl had forced his bike to its limits, hightailing it back to the group with her arms around him. When he got back to them Rick had rushed forward to greet them looking warily at the pair, Daryl stopped the bike and started trying to explain to his friend when she fell sideways from the bike. Having to explain to the group that he didn’t even know her name was difficult but he just had to save her. By way of an explanation he just said “Any woman tha faces down a hoard alone earnt her chance” 

Daryl hadn’t left her side until she woke up. Seeing his reaction to this woman the group didn’t question it and just accepted her as one of their own. 

Daryl smiled thinking back to all the moments you two had been together on the road to here, To alexandria which had quickly become home. Before here he had barely left your side, He had thought you were incredible. A complete badass. From the first day you had defended and helped the group as if they were already family. You were a perfect fit. You were everything he wasn’t Light and beautiful. He knew a woman like you would never want the dark twisted man he had become but he couldn’t stop himself from being around you. You were magnetic. 

He never had the guts to tell you all of this, He knew you would reject him and everything your presence had healed in him would be shattered again. When they had gotten to Alexandria he had started seeing less of you as you had taken up your post at the infirmary and he had been going on more and more runs to keep the community fed and taken care of. He had started to wish for injuries just so he would have an excuse to feel your eye’s meet his again. He craved your touch with everything in him. But of course he could never tell you that, It would be so wrong of him. He was no good for you, he was atleast 20 years older for a start, An old redneck like him could never deserve a young beauty like you. 

About a week after you had all gotten here someone else had noticed you. You seemed to rebuff his advances at first which gave Daryl hope. A few weeks later Daryl was sent on a long run and when he came back there you were on Spencer's porch wrapped in his arms, Laughing at his words. That memory was the most painful for him, He had just gotten up the guts after a very close call to tell you how much he loved you and needed you to be his and there you were, Someone else’s now.

He couldn’t help but imagine what would happen if you had in fact been his, He spent all of his nights wondering what it would be like to have you in his arms lay next to him, Wondering what your lips would feel like on his, How your skin would feel under his fingers, Your breath on his skin. All of these nights ended in a hurried and urgent tug as he let his mind imagine your hands were his. Moaning your name night after night. Always opening his eyes to the empty space beside him and the gripping pain in his chest. 

“Daryl, Come in Daryl” Carol was waving her hand in front of your face. “Uhh Sorry, What did you say?”

“I said,'' Can you make an excuse to go to the infirmary tonight?” He balled his fists. He could definitely do that. He waited a few hours and then stormed towards the garage with Carol hot on his heels. He drew a deep breath and then punched his hand through the glass cabinet. Drawing his hand back and watching the blood seep down his wrist. Looking up at Carol expectantly “That’ll do nicely Daryl” With a glint in her eye. She turned and grabbed a rag off the side and wrapped it around his wrist. You go to the infirmary ill get Y/N. Daryl couldn’t feel the pain of what he had done yet, He could just feel the adrenaline rushing through him. 

Carol ran across and down the street stopping to take a deep breath before knocking she heard a whimper from inside. Fixing a panicked look on her face she knocked urgently. A few moments later Spencer tore the door open, “What?” He demanded. Unfazed Carol replied “Hey spence! I’m sorry to intrude so late but we need Y/N Its urgent” She smiled sweetly at him. “Whatever you need her for you either tell me or you can wait till tomorrow” Showing him the blood on her hands. “Well um there was an accident and we can’t find denise.” She said in an innocent voice. Hearing this you appeared at the door and looked up at spencer. “I need to go, I promise i'll be quick…. Please?” You smoothed your hair over your neck again and started out of the door towards Carol when Spencer caught your wrist pulling you back to him. “You better be, I aint done with you yet” He growled into your ear, Then pushed his lips to yours put a fake smile on his face “Okay honey, Be Careful”

You took this moment to pull your arm from his following Carol pressing her for more information. You arrived at the infirmary and saw Daryl on the steps blood dripping down his hand onto the steps. You unlocked the door and ushered him and Carol inside. 

Sitting Daryl down and not meeting his eyes you delicately removed the rag from his wrist and grimaced. Knowing better than to ask questions you set to work with a pair of tweezers and started removing the glass shards from his hand and wrist before cleaning the wound, Stitching and bandaging it as quick as you could. You braved a glimpse upwards and saw his eyes searching your body and then your eyes. 

Seeing those beautiful blue eyes hit yours you were fighting the tears. You wanted to spill and tell him everything. He had always had that effect on you all he had to do was look at you and you wanted to pour yourself into him. You had loved him from the very beginning, From the moment your eyes met you had craved him, Craved those beautiful strong arms around you keeping you safe from the world. 

You had always wished he would show even a spark of interest towards you, Well he was always around but he acted so indifferent. 

Engrossed in his eyes just staring at each other it was like there was no one else in the world, He was the sun pulling you in. His hand came up and moved the hair from your face, His fingers lingering before moving your hair completely away from your neck, his eye’s darting downwards inspecting you. His eyes grew dark then “Please Y/N what has he done to you?” his eyes were fixed on your neck as he reached forward and brushed his fingers across your throat tracing the bruises. 

Your breath hitched in your throat enjoying his touch. Carol cleared her throat from the corner “Guys we got company” Daryl dropped his hand and darted forwards blocking the doorway as it flung open. 

Spencer, He was fucking everywhere. 

“Can i help you?” Daryl growled. “What are you doing man, Where’s my girl?” Spencer asked. “She’s Busy and she’s gon be busy for a long time. Why don’t you take off kid” Daryl said still not moving from spencer’s way “I’ll take off when i’ve got my girl, Get the fuck out of the way” You could hear the change in his tone turn from polite to the voice that sent fear through your bones. 

You stepped forward. “I’m right here. It’s okay i won't be long” Daryl looked back at you pained “Yeah ya will. We aint letting ya go back with him” Roaring “Fucking look at yaself Y/N look at those bruises!” He span back at spencer “Ya needa take a fuckin hike, Touch her again ill kill you” He growled. Spencer looked amused “Yeah, Ok redneck scurry on to your moonshine and skinning possums'' He half laughed. “You think that little bitch wants you? She’s mine. Now get your ass here Y/N before i get fucking angry.” 

Daryl was heaving now Carol rushed forwards and grabbed his arms as he went to lunge forward. You forced your body forward in between them both tears freely running down your face now. “It’s okay, Daryl I’m okay. I’m not worth it” You winced when you felt Spencer's hands dig into your already bruised hips again. Daryl saw this “Ya gotta be kiddin me Y/N Ya worth 10 o’ him'' His eyes searched yours again desperate. “Please Daryl don’t make this any worse” “You heard her white trash” Spencer then pulled you from the room back down the infirmary steps, Daryl watched as he pulled her down the street and threw her back through the front door” 

Anger boiling through his veins he took off in the other direction, grabbed his bike and took off out of the gate and into the night. 

A week had passed since that night, It had taken a week to recover from the beating he gave you. You knew the rules No talking to either of them now. You were to go to work and come home, No more out of hours calls. You watched when Daryl finally rode back into town. Covered in walker blood his face still contorted in anger when he rushed back into the house. You saw the light come on in the basement and watched as he smashed up what few belongings he had before settling onto his bed. This had become your favourite pass time you loved that you could see straight into his room and the garage when he was in there. Spencer had already noted they could see into this house and had kept the curtains drawn on all rooms at all times. 

When you finally did go back to work Spencer walked you to and from the infirmary for the first week until he started to relax again. You liked it better when he relaxed, He could be sweet and loving towards you and you did everything you could to prolong it to avoid his rages again. 

On the tuesday you now knew was your birthday, You went to work with a half smile on your face. Denise pointed over to a desk “That was dropped off for you earlier” You walked over and found a slightly dirty Pin. Flipping it over you saw it was a beautiful painted sunflower. Beaming you turned back to denise “Who was it?” “Ahh sworn to secrecy! Sorry Y/N” You playfully growled at her “ooh terrified! I’m more scared of them, than I am of you Y/N Sorry still not telling!” You laughed and decided to let it go and just enjoy your beautiful thoughtful gift. 

Since Spencer had relaxed he had let you walk to work and back alone on the second day of this you heard him. “Y/N wait up!” Shit not now! What if he’s watching. You darted your eyes around and picked up the pace towards home. Running to catch up with you, Daryl ran in front of you and made you stop. 

“Please not now Daryl, If he sees...I’m not allowed….I’m not allowed to be near you” You stuttered. You gazed up at him pleading. His eyes went hard. “No! NO! I aint allowing it! Ya not going back to him Y/N I aint allowing him to hurt ya again!” You started shaking at his raised voice. Daryl noticed this and looked to be struggling with himself before finally lunging towards you and taking your head in his hands making your eyes stay on his. There it was again he was the sun and you couldn’t pull away even if you wanted to. 

“I love ya Y/N, I fuckin love ya! I can’t watch him not treat you like how you deserve! I’ll take care of you please, please let me i'll protect you with everythin i have!” His eyes looked wild and desperate. You couldn’t stop yourself, you pushed your lips forward meeting his hurriedly matching his desperation. The world could have ended again right then. You wouldn’t have cared one bit as he wrapped his arms around you and you melted into him feeling safe at last. 

Your hands made their way to his hair no longer caring who was watching and pulled him closer to you. He pulled away reluctantly. “Come on we’re getting ya stuff now. I’m not having ya there for another second '' Your brain still foggy you nodded giggling and let him pull you towards your house. Panic setting in again. Spencer should still be on guard duty the house should be empty so why were you so afraid. 

You looked back at Daryl and melted again. “Wait here, I won't be long, there's not much I need” He nodded at you taking a defensive stance and staring into the street. 

You ran up the stairs and threw the door open shutting it softly behind you and ran up the stairs grabbed your bag from under the bed and stuffing clothes in at random, Next you turned to the bathroom and grabbed your tooth brush and other bits. Smiling at yourself in the mirror not recognising the happy woman in front of you. 

It was then you saw him leaning against the doorway behind you. “That was quite a show Y/N, Well there’s only one thing for it! You ain’t goin nowhere with him with fuckin nobody but me bitch” He smirked at you and dove forward grabbing fistfuls of hair in his hands he threw your head forward smashing it into the mirror. You screamed begging him to let go as he continued to pull your head back and hit it back into the wall. You could feel the blood running down your face. Clouding your eyesight. Suddenly the hands were gone you gripped the sink fighting to stay up right. Grabbing a cloth and rubbing the blood out of your eyes you saw Spencer being dragged from the room. You followed as quick as your stumbling legs would carry you. 

You made it out onto the street to see spencer in the middle of the road and Daryl over him punching everywhere he could “I fuckin told ya, I’d Fuckin told ya i’d kill ya” He was screaming into his face. You looked around and saw a crowd had formed. Deana, Spencer’s mother was screaming for Daryl to stop. Which brought Rick and the others running. Carol ran straight for you taking your head in her hands and pulling you close. Whispering “It’s okay now Y/N. It’s okay i’ve got you” 

Rick ran straight at Daryl pulling him away from Spencer. Spencer pulled himself up and spat the blood from his mouth glaring at you now He pulled himself to his feet stumbling, eyes locked on you glaring he screamed “You little bitch” and ran at you. Rick couldn’t restrain Daryl any more as Daryl ran forward grabbing Spencer and throwing him to the ground again just before he reached you. Rick and a few others ran forward again and stood in front of you guarding you from Spencer. Daryl saw the fear in your eyes and rounded back on him. 

Crouching over Spencer on the floor Daryl yelled “Ya don’t listen do ya, Rick was trying to save ya miserable piece of shit life” He punched him again. “Me, I want to see ya as an undead asshole and I wanna be the one to do it, So keep pushing it Spencer” He pulled his crossbow from off his back and pointed it at the man on the ground, his chest heaving now. A strangled cry left your throat then.

Pushing yourself out of Carol’s arms you made your way to Daryl, You put your hand over his on the bow and pushed it down. Internally begging him to look at you. He finally did “Please Daryl it doesn’t matter, I don’t matter. I won’t have you being a murderer for me” 

Daryl’s eyes softened before turning back to spencer “Twice in a day someone else has saved ya fuckin life. Don’ even think about coming near her again. I even smell you near her or catch you looking at MY WOMAN again. ill rip ya fucking eyes out” He roared

Deanna was at her sons side now “He gets it please, Please leave so i can take my son home”

Daryl turned to you “Come on baby, We need to go home too” He dropped his crossbow back over his shoulder and wrapped his arm around your shoulders pulling you to him and pressing his lips to your forehead. You instantly relaxed grinning into him and you let him guide you again over to his house and down to his basement. You looked at him sadly when he pulled his arms from around your shoulders and turned to lock the door behind you pulling the deadbolt across. 

He turned smiling at you “Come on let’s get a good look at ya” Putting his hand in yours he brought you to the bed and sat you down inspecting the gash on your head. “We needa get you to Denise to get ya patched up” You grimaced “No she will be busy with him, I can do it. You got a needle and wire?” He looked at you shocked “Um yeah somewhere here” He busied himself getting those for you. He came back to you with them and some rubbing alcohol and bandages “Ya sure ya don’t want Denise? I’d do it but i'd probably make it worse” You smiled at him again sighing “It’s okay Daryl, It’s not my first rodeo” You made your way to the mirror and calmly cleaning and stitching yourself up. 

Daryl was half fascinated and half horrified as he watched you work. You looked so calm and didn’t even flinch when you were stitching yourself. It disturbed him to know you had probably gotten used to giving yourself medical attention. He waited patiently for you to be done. When you finally made your way back to him he pulled you back into his arms breathing deeply “I ain’t ever gonna let anyone hurt ya again Y/N not ever.” 

You reluctantly pulled yourself away now looking up at him with tired eyes. “I um didn’t get a chance to get my bag. Could I borrow something? I think I need to lie down, If that’s okay? Or I could go ask Carol if she minds me going upstairs?” 

“Ya kiddin aren’t ya? I aint letting you out of my sight” Getting nervous suddenly “Unless ya don’t want to be here. I aint gonna force you to stay or anything else'' You smiled at him again “Daryl i want to be here, With you. It’s all i’ve ever wanted” He grinned relieved, turned to his dresser and pulled out one of his shirts. “This alright?” You pulled the shirt up to your face smelling it briefly, It was clean but still smelled distinctly like motor oil and cigarettes. Just like him. You smiled sweetly at him “It’s perfect, Thank you” 

You looked pointedly at him, He laughed awkwardly, lay on the bed and looked at the ceiling above giving you your privacy. You slowly started removing your clothes wincing at points where your skin was still tender. Gratefully pulling his shirt over you and Scooping your hair out of the neck. 

“I don’t suppose the infamous Daryl Dixon owns a comb or brush does he?” You said amused. He jumped up again grabbing a brush from another drawer and bringing it over to you. His eyes assessed you “I don’t think ya going to manage to brush that out. Needs washin” 

“Oh and you're the authority on washing now?” You winked at him. You brought your hand to your hair and realised he probably had a point, Looking at him meekly this time. “Sorry I'm being such pain. Would you mind?” “Course not Darlin” He led you to the bathroom just off his room. He grabbed a towel and some shampoo from the cupboard and handed them to you, He turned the shower on “Give it a sec, Generator needs ta kick in” 

You shooed him out of the bathroom, Unwillingly pulling his shirt back off you and stepped under the shower. You couldn’t help but cry out the pain in your head was back, You ran your hand through your hair and felt a sharp pain in your palm. Reaching back you pulled out a piece of mirror that had embedded itself in your scalp, dropped it and let your head back into the water again, Whimpering again as you did. 

Daryl came crashing back into the bathroom “Y/N You okay?” “I'm okay” You stuttered. Not convinced he lingered in the doorway a moment more before leaving. 

The pain had started to recede and you enjoyed the water cascading over you. Once you had managed to wash the blood from your face and hair you turned the water off and stood naked in front of the mirror assessing the general damage to your body. This isn’t something you usually liked to do but it was time for the denial to be lifted and face facts. 

Daryl heard the water shut off and when you hadn’t reappeared after a few minutes he went to check on you again and thats where he found you on the floor sobbing holding your chest. He rushed down to you and scooped you into his arms still naked and shaking from the cold. 

“It’s okay Y/N I got ya now, I got ya always” He carried you to the bed pulling the towel with you and wrapping it around you. He lay you down on the bed stepping back. He finally saw the marks he had been searching for on you for weeks and he wished he hadn’t. They were everywhere old and new mixed together indistinguishable from each other. 

He dropped to his knees at the side of the bed burying his head into the mattress at the side of you. “Y/N please tell me what to do, Ya want him dead. I’ll do it, Ya wanna leave, I’ll take ya. Ya want to be alone, Ya can have my home. Please tell me what you want. Anything. I’ll get it Ya.” 

You looked at him sleepily “I just want to sleep” He looked at you standing and pulled the covers over you. “Okay, Ya need me shout and i'll be upstairs” You looked at him and panicked “No please don’t leave me” He ran his hand through his hand and was suddenly nervous again. 

“Ok, Y/N move over” He put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you toward him, You nuzzled into his shoulder. “Thank you” You murmured groggily and fell into a deep sleep instantly feeling safe.

Daryl lay by her side all night. Watching over her as she slept. The adrenaline was still pumping through his veins from the day's events, He looked over at you worried as you started mumbling and thrashing in your sleep. He tried to calm you by pulling you closer to him and whispering “It’s ok Y/N Your safe now.” Her mumbilings became more frantic “noo, Pleasee stop” Daryl’s heart felt like it was breaking as he held you. 

Suddenly you jolted upright sitting up with the ghost of a scream on your lips. You jumped up and dove across the room panicking, Collapsing into the corner hyperventilating. He was on you in seconds pulling you close again. Telling you it was going to be okay. It took you a minute to realise you really were safe and you relaxed into his arms allowing him to carry you back to the bed. 

You stayed by Daryl’s side for the next few days, They had been amazing, Everything was starting to feel like it was before Spencer; Spencer had been staying with Deanna while he recovered from the beating Daryl gave him which gave you a chance to clear everything of yours out of there. You were offered the house but with the memories you had there you couldn’t stay and besides you were much happier in that little basement room with Daryl than you had been in that huge house with him. 

Rick had agreed with Deanna that Spencer was to stay in her home and be monitored for as long as it took to see he had learnt his lesson and would stay away from you. The alternative being that Rick would let Daryl do what he wanted to him or he would be banished from the town. Depending on the severity of his possible future actions. 

Daryl hadn’t said a word to you about that day since, You can understand him not mentioning Spencer or those events but he hadn’t brought up the kiss or made any form of move since. You had come to think that he hadn’t meant it and that was just him trying to get through to you.

You really wanted to hate him for it, For making you believe someone as amazing as him could possibly care about you but Maybe Spencer was right, Maybe he was the only one who could ever love you. The thought was painful but just as you had decided to face facts about what he had done to you, You also needed to face facts about yourself and your limitations. 

It was only when you were both alone in bed that he ever slightly lowered his walls, When he would open his arms to you in bed and you would both snuggle while you slept. You would always wake alone with Daryl either working in the garage or out running jobs for Rick. 

One morning you woke up alone as always and found Daryl in the kitchen waiting for you, Trying to keep the grin from your face “Good morning!” You said brightly. He looked at you exhausted. “Mornin Y/N, I have to go on a run may be a day or two, You gonna be okay?” 

“Oh, Yeah sure. Do you need me to find somewhere else to stay while you're gone?” The happiness at seeing him already dissipating. “Course not, Me and Carol want ya here. Ya welcome for as long as ya want.” He then muttered “I don’t ever want ya to leave” under his breath. 

“Thank you Daryl, You don’t know how much this means to me, so…? when are you leaving?” 

“Uhm, Now actually. Just wanted to wait for ya to get up to let ya know, Anythin ya want me to keep an eye out for?” “No Daryl it’s ok. I couldn’t live with myself if anyone got hurt looking for something I wanted. The only thing I need is for you to come back to me, Unhurt…. Promise?” He smiled briefly at her taking her hand in his. “I promise Y/N. I promised to protect ya, It’ll take more than a few walkers to stop me keepin tha promise” 

Cuddling up in bed that night you knew it would be difficult to get any sleep, It always was when he left even before when you were with Spencer. You could never quite get a decent night's sleep until Daryl was home safe. You snuggled up to this pillow on his side of the bed breathing in his scent imagining his arms were wrapped around you safe. 

Half way through the next day he returned. Daryl and the group came flooding through the doors of the infirmary carrying an unfamiliar woman between them, She was passed out with blood covering her clothes. Wishing you had a moment to greet him, You and Denise flew into action looking over the woman and cleaning any wounds you could find. Once you were done and determined that she hadn’t been bitten and had no life threatening wounds, You stepped back “Is it ok if i leave you to finish?” You asked denise. She looked to you and then to Daryl pacing at the other end “Yeah” She nodded. “Can you fill those guys in?” You nodded back at her and walked over to them. 

“Hey, She’s ok. No severe injuries Just a bit dehydrated and probably hungry. Shouldn’t be too long before she wakes up.” A few relieved mutters were shared around the group before they departed for home to see their loved ones. You ran into Daryl’s arms and then held him in front of you checking over him for any cuts or marks that may need to be seen to. “m’ok , Really Y/N I’m ok jus’ tired. Can we go home? I needa talk to you” He looked at you desperately.

You nod your head taking his hand and following him towards your house. 

As you were walking you could feel his fingers nervously gripping your hand. He stopped suddenly and stepped in front of you. Reaching his hand to your jumper brushing his fingers over your sunflower, You looked at him with sudden realisation. “It was you?” 

“I heard ya with Carol that day, I couldn’t let your birthday go by and not get ya anything” He blushed looking away from you. 

You reached up and caressed his face gently pulling his face to face you again. “Thank you Daryl. That was incredibly sweet.” You pushed yourself up towards him pressing your lips to his softly, He moaned and tangling his fingers into your hair pulling you closer.” Just like last time it was over far too quickly, He started pacing in front of you. 

“No.no.no” he muttered “I can’t do this, It will take me weeks to forget again” He started pacing faster, his hands ripping at his hair. 

“Daryl stop!” You grabbed his hands pulling them out of his hair. “Please look at me! Why can’t you do this?! You told me you loved me for fuck sake and then act like it never happened! Tell me why!!” You were almost screaming, battling with your tears. How could he turn a moment so perfect into such a mess! 

“I’m 24 years older than ya, Did ya know that Y/N? I’m a filthy good for nuthin OLD redneck, I aint go no right to be with someone like ya! No matter what i want!!” He stopped pacing and looked straight at you again.

“I don’t care about your age! Why would that matter? What about what I want Daryl? You told me that night if i wanted anything you would get it for me, Well i’ve decided. I WANT YOU! It’s always been you!” Your tears are flowing freely now. The nosey neighbours of Alexandria started to gather at the noise, Trying to tune them out and you turned back to Daryl. “WELL? Don’t go all broody Dixon on me now!” 

He looked torn between pain and anger at the scene you two were now creating. Still not speaking to you. 

“You know what, Fuck you Dixon” You put your hands up to the sunflower pin he had got for you, You pulled it off and threw it at his head. He caught it easily, finally breaking his silence. “Ya got any idea what i went through to get this for ya!” He charged back at you, stopping inches from you.

“Ya should care, I’m no good Y/N, I don’t deserve ya” He gazed into your eyes those brilliant blue eyes misting over. “That ain't your decision or your place to tell me what i deserve. It’s mine” You glared at each other for a moment before he couldn’t take it any longer he gripped your face again slamming his lips to yours now, His tongue urgently pressing against your lips begging for entrance. You opened your lips moaning as his tongue touched yours and took charge of it, Kissing you furiously. You moaned into his mouth feeling your eyes rolling back in your head. 

You had never had anyone kiss you like this before, Everything else melted away all of your anger, pain and fear. All that was left was him, Glorious, Gorgeous all consuming Daryl fucking Dixon. 

You heard Carol chuckle behind you “Hey guys, You might wanna think about getting a room. You’ve got quite an audience here” Daryl smiled into your lips as he pulled away. He turned to Carol “Ya know what i think we will” Quick as a flash he had bent down and grabbed you behind your knees throwing you over his shoulder and running with you back to your home and down into your favourite place. When he had locked the door he turned to the bed with you still over his shoulder and put you down gently on the bed. 

“Did ya mean it Y/N? Ya really want me?” He looked down at you searching your eyes for an answer. “I have never wanted anything more in my life, I want you. I want all of you and i want it right now Daryl” You replied feeling the hunger from him burning you. 

Still standing over you, His eyes growing dark. “Lie down” He growled.. 

Grinning you kicked off your shoes and pushed yourself up the bed laying your head on the pillow. He followed you shadowing your body with his pressing himself to you before leaning close to your face lips barely brushing yours. 

“Tell me what else ya want Y/N…..Exactly what you want” 

You looked at him nervously for a second seeing the lust in his eyes matching yours you decided to just go for it. 

“I want your hands….Everywhere” As you spoke you felt his hands grab your hips moving slowly to your stomach then up and under your top. Frustratingly slowly, Your breath hitched as he finally pushed his hands to your breasts gripping them roughly. 

He pulled his hands away and back down to the bottom of your shirt grabbing it and pulling it upwards you raised your arms and let him remove it fully. He reached back down to you, His hands quickly unclasping your bra and throwing it harshly at the wall. His hands were back to your chest, Rolling your nipples with his thumbs. 

You moaned arching your back pushing your chest into his hands. He hit his hips into yours grinding on your core. “Oh shit Darylll” You moaned feeling how hard he was for you. 

He moved his mouth to your chest feverishly kissing your breasts and nibbled on your nipple making you squirm. Daryl then kissed a line down your stomach to your hips stopping to bite each one gently. 

Every touch was heaven, Every time he dragged his tongue over your soft skin it was like a thousand shocks spreading across your skin. He was undoing the zip on your jeans now, You lifted your hips to help him pull them off you. He settled between your legs pushing them wider open and running his finger over the material of your gratefully black lace underwear. 

Daryl looked up at you. Lifting and turning you slightly to look at the back “Holy Shit ya need to wear these all the time!” Still without removing your panties he pressed his lips to your sensitive nub while his fingers scooped the lace out of his way. His fingers then moved to your opening feeling how dripping wet you had gotten for him. 

“Shit Y/N that cuz of me?” He moaned as he pressed his lips back to your clit starting slowly circling his tongue around it and sucking gently. “Oh godd” You had never even get close to going down on you before, It was everything and more. You had to fight yourself from coming undone too soon, You wanted to savour every delicious second of this.

He plunged two fingers into you eliciting an even louder moan from you “Oh goddd Daryl! Please don’t stop, Don’t ever fucking stop.” You moaned between breaths. His mouth and fingers started moving quicker as he could feel your walls tightening on him and your breaths growing shorter, Panting for him. You couldn’t take any more and erupted feeling the wildfire of sensations running across your skin, Screaming his name. He slowed his fingers allowing you to ride your orgasm out onto him. When you slowed he put his lips further down on you licking every drop that gushed out of you. You entwined your fingers into his hair gently pulling him up towards you. 

“You taste so sweet baby, I could do that all day” Your eyes grew hard as you felt your core growing hot again and the wetness returned at his words.

He leant down and gave you another kiss, You put your hands to his chest and pushed him onto his back on the bed. 

“Your turn baby, I've been dreaming of getting my lips around you” You purred. “But first i need to see you, The man i’ve been dreaming of all this time” Moving your hands to his buttons he nodded at you briefly watching you crawl over him almost naked. 

You quickly pulled his shirt off of him, Roaming your hands all over his tight muscled chest and down over his thick arms. Biting your bottom lip trying to memorise every single inch. 

“If ya don’t stop biting that lip woman i ain't gonna give you a chance for those dreams to happen” He winked at you eyes blazing. You quickly dropped your hands to his jeans, Ripping his jeans and boxers down together and throwing them without a thought. You knelt between his legs licking your lips as you saw the size of him. He must’ve  been at least 9 inches long. Your eyes went wide with need as you wrapped your hands around it you brought your mouth to his tip slowly licking the dew from the eye. Moving your hands you licked him from base to tip and swirled your tongue around the tip. 

“Fuck Y/N Get that cock in your mouth now” He demanded. You didn’t need telling twice! You lowered your lips over him, Sheathing your teeth and pushing most of him in your mouth moaning as you felt his huge length hit the back of your throat.

“Y/N no gag reflex? Oh god how did i get so lucky” He groaned putting his hands into your hair and pushing your head back down. You choked as your mouth hit his base, your eyes watering, You hummed to vibrate your throat on his length before pulling up again. It was your turn to watch his eyes roll into the back of his head “Fuck Y/N fuckkkk Your mouth’s incredbile” You could feel your pressure building as you watched him fall apart under your lips. You bobbed your head faster and faster over him. 

“Oh shit, Stop Y/N I’m gonna cum ” He moaned looking down at you seeing you had no intention of stopping. He started thrusting into your mouth meeting your lips in perfect time. It wasn’t long before he exploded down your throat holding your head down to his hilt while he emptied his load straight into your stomach. When he released your head you pulled off slowly then licked his full length clean swallowing every drop. 

He watched you in wonder “Come here Y/N” You crawled back up him straddling his hips staring down at him sweetly. “Ya soooo fucking good at that” You brought your lips to his hungrily biting his bottom lip and started to grind your core onto him. You both moaned into each other's mouths enjoying the friction. You could already feel him below you growing harder again by the second. 

“I need to feel you baby” You moaned into his lips. Daryl pushed himself upright and pulled you with him as he sat up against the bed head. Daryl put his hands under your hips lifting you up and positioning you over his cock, Swiftly moving your panties to the side he started to lower you on to him. 

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders holding your weight as you tried to fit more of him into you. 

“Yesssss, So tight Y/N”. He groaned trying to push further. His eyes locked yours and saw you were struggling; he held you in place for a moment. “Ya ok?” 

“I’m good, You're just so big.The biggest i ever…. It hurts a little” Softening his gaze He kissed you softly. “Let me help ya with that. He brought his mouth to your nipple swirling and nipping here and there while his hand snaked its way to your clit again following the same circle as his mouth, You could feel yourself getting wetter and able to take more of him in. You cautiously tested it out moving your hips slowly up and down until he had filled you fully. You thought he had felt good before it was nothing on this. Pure unadulterated ecstasy. You started moving faster, becoming more confident with the lack of pain. 

Soon you were bouncing wildly onto his length screaming his name as he quickly brought you to another earth shattering orgasm. He brought your mouth to his kissing you swiftly “Shh baby ya know how thin these walls are. Carol & everyone on the street will be listening to ya!” 

“Mmphh, I don’t fucking care let them hear how good my man is fucking me” You rode your high out enjoying every second when you slowed again Daryl lifted you again standing up with you still skewered on him, Carrying you over to the wall beside the door he slammed you into it. Bucking his hips into yours furiously. 

“Y/N I’ve been waiting all ma daym life for a girl like you” He pushed his lips back to yours again. You melted into his lips his words dampening you for the third time, You hadn’t even known it was possible for someone to turn you on so much, To make you want them with every fibre of your being. 

Daryl started panting faster now sweat dripping off of his glistening muscles, You could feel his cock twitching inside you as he jackhammered into you harder and harder each time. 

“Ahhhh” You screamed “That’s it baby….Right there....Your cock is filling me so fucking good. Cum in me Daryl i need it” 

“Oh fuck Y/N Ya so fucking tight, Ya fuckin incredible, I’m gonna cum for you Y/N” 

You both hit your highs at the same time, You screaming his name into the air, eyes rolling backwards and him sinking his teeth into your shoulder exploding deep into you. You collapsed into his chest seeing stars as you felt him pulsing inside you, Your tight pussy milking him of every drop. 

Panting Daryl carried you back to the bed laying you down gently and collapsing with you, He leant forward and pressed sweet loving kisses on your lips. 

You curled into his chest exhausted, Looking up at him with pure love in your eyes. 

“By the way, What you said that day….” He looked at you puzzled brain still cloudy coming down from his climax. He murmured into your hair. “What baby?”

“Well...I love you too. I always have” Daryl smiled into your hair. He chuckled “Well what a relief, How could i have ever known otherwise”

You jabbed him in the ribs gently “Hey, Not fair!” He pulled your face up to his and stared lovingly into your eyes. 

“Ya know i love ya Y/N” His eyes grew serious. “I’d do anything for ya, I’d die for ya even” 

Your lips met his in a sweet kiss. You couldn’t believe he was finally yours, Allll yours. 

You snuggled into his chest feeling him tighten his arms around you and fell into a relaxed deep sleep. 

Next Chapter ---->

[flightlessangelwings]

I Owe What I am to You

Billy Russo x fem!Reader

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: mild violence, injury, hurt/comfort, kidnapping, minor character death, angst, fluff, protective!Billy, Billy betrays Rawlings AU

~

“Mr. Russo, you have someone here to see you,” Billy’s assistant knocked on his office door.

He glanced at the clock; he didn’t have an appointment scheduled until 2 so there was only one person that could walk through that door. He stood and grinned when he was right and you slid past Billy’s assistant with a quick thanks.

Once the door was closed behind you, Billy quickly closed the gap between your bodies and took your lips with his in a needy kiss. You squealed in surprise, but quickly wrapped your arms around him and pulled him as close as you could. It had only been since this morning since you last saw each other, but lately every hour felt like a week whenever you were apart. 

This past year or so was a rough year for you both.  

You had met Billy some time ago, you forgot how long now when you came in to interview him as part of your job as a journalist and there was immediate chemistry. Soon after, you started dating and soon after that, Billy broke down and told you everything he had kept hidden from the world. There was such a strong connection between the two of you that neither could explain and Billy came to trust you uncharacteristically fast.

He told you about his deal with Rawlins and the guilt he felt for betraying his best friend, Frank Castle. You listened as he cried in your arms, and you told him that the only way he could make it right was to betray Rawlins. 

He was hesitant at first, mostly because he didn’t want to risk putting you in danger or get caught in the crosshairs. But you convinced him you would be alright. You were right of course; Billy had to admit that you almost always were, but Billy was left injured and scarred from his and Frank’s fight with Rawlins. During everything, though, you stuck by his side, and Billy realized just how much he loved you.

Once Billy was fully healed, he rebranded Anvil and rebuilt it from the ground up to be what he wanted from the beginning, and free of Rawlin’s influence. You helped him with that as well; you used your investigative skills to thoroughly vet every applicant and potential networking partner before Billy signed them on.

“Billy,” you giggled between kisses, “Meg is just outside the door.” This wouldn’t be the first time you had sex in his office, but you didn’t want his assistant to hear anything and then have to walk past her when you left.

He didn’t care, and he spun you around and backed you up until your legs bumped into his desk. Billy gracefully lifted you so that you sat on his desk and kissed you even more deeply. It took him some time to show affection like this with you again, but once he started, he didn’t want to stop.

You moaned softly into his mouth before you pushed him back, “Billy,” you gave him a fierce look that always made him melt.

He cradled the side of your face as he said your name, “You’re right,” he looked at you with those big, dark eyes and you almost gave in to him.

You kissed him once more before you leaned back to glance over the papers on his desk. You noticed at the top of the stack, there was a paper with someone’s profile, and you immediately recognized the name. 

“Why are you meeting with Big Ed?” you asked as you picked up the sheet of paper.

Billy’s grip on your waist tightened as he furrowed his brows, “He’s interested in working with Anvil as a partner. How do you know his name?”

You turned back around to meet his gaze, “He keeps popping up when I’m doing my research for you,” you explained, “I can’t find much on him though. It’s like he just appeared out of nowhere,” you let out a heavy sigh, “I don’t know, Billy. Something about him doesn’t sit right with me.”

He was quiet for a moment as he took in your words. You were a good journalist, and your instincts were usually correct. Plus, Billy trusted you. He was about to say something when the phone on his desk rang. You jumped in his arms in surprise, and he gave you a quick squeeze before he reached over to press the speaker button.

“Mr. Russo, a Big Ed is here to see you,” Meg’s voice rang through the speaker.

He’s early, “Tell him I’ll be right out,” the line clicked and he turned to you, and the look in your eyes made his heart sink, “Too late to back out now,” Billy said.

“I’ll go back to my office and see what else I can dig up on him,” you pushed yourself off of his desk, but Billy did not release his protective hold on you, “Promise me you’ll be careful Billy.”

He flashed you a charming smile, “I’m always careful baby,” he kissed you once more, and for some reason this kiss felt very final. Billy pushed that sinking feeling aside and told himself it was just nerves, “You want me to call a car for you?”

“I can call one myself, Billy,” you paused and bit your lip as an uneasy feeling hung in the air between the two of you, “I love you.”

Billy brushed your lower lip with his thumb, “I love you too.” It wasn’t often that you and Billy spoke those words aloud to each other, though you both knew the feeling was there. You both saved the words for special or desperate occasions, the the uneasy feeling that hung in the air definitely warranted the moment.

He watched you leave with a heavy feeling in his chest and he took a minute to gather himself before he went to meet with this Big Ed.

You stepped outside Anvil to wait for your car, but you weren’t waiting long until one pulled up and called your name. You thought nothing of it, since the driver used your name and you stepped into the back seat. The drive to your office was silent, and it took longer than usual due to traffic, but you kept yourself occupied by starting your research on Big Ed from your phone. You were so wrapped up in your investigation that you didn’t even notice at first that the car pulled up to your work building. When the driver shook you from your focus, you thanked him and stepped out of the car. 

Just as you got out, your phone rang and you saw it was Billy. You smiled at his picture on your screen; it was one you took when you were out together one night and out caught him in a sweet smile before he regained his composure.

“That was fast,” you said with a short laugh as you answered.

“I think you were right,” his voice was serious, “I had a bad feeling about him too. Cut the meeting short,” Billy paused and you heard him take a deep breath, “You back at your office?”

“Yeah I just got here. Traffic was bad,” you could hear the worry in his voice and it made you nervous, “Everything ok, Billy?”

He was quiet for a moment, “Fine.”

“So you’re not going to work with him then?” you had the feeling there was something Billy was not telling you, and as much as you wanted to know you also didn’t want to push it.

Again, Billy was quiet. What you couldn’t see was the worry on his face as he replayed what Big Ed said to him during the meeting: It’s in your best interest to take my offer. I think you’ll find that I can be very persuasive, Mr. Russo. 

Billy did not like the threat that loomed in his words. When you said his name again, he finally answered, “I don’t know. See what you can dig up, and call me later.”

You swallowed hard; you knew something was wrong, “Alright. I’m walking in now,” you both hung up and you decided to leave it at that for now. You knew Billy would tell you what bothered him eventually when he was ready.

You walked past the security camera and were just about to pull the door open when a pained cry got your attention. Never one to ignore someone in need of help, you let go of the door and ran to the side of the building where you heard the cry come from. You looked around, but no one was there, and you figured you must have imagined it. 

Just as you shrugged and were about to turn around, you heard a rush of movement behind you. But before you could turn, a hand that held a cloth covered your face. You screamed into the cloth, but your cry was muffled. A strong arm held you in place, as much as you struggled, and you passed out after a few moments. Just before you blacked out, you recognized the driver of the car you just exited.

Billy busied himself in his office after he hung up with you, but he still had this nagging feeling in the back of his head that would not go away. He glanced down at his phone again, even though it was only a short while since you hung up. Billy sighed and ran his hands through his hair when his phone rang.

He looked down and saw your face on his screen: a photo of you at the beach that he took over the summer. Billy answered with your name and waited for you to say something. When the line stayed silent, he stood and immediately knew something was wrong. He said your name again with more urgency and he scowled when a deep voice laughed on the other end of the time.

“I told you I can be persuasive, Mr. Russo,” Big Ed’s voice rang through the line.

“What the hell did you do? Where the fuck is she?” Billy shouted with rage into the phone, “I swear, if you hurt her…”

“Your girl is fine, Mr. Russo,” Big Ed cut him off, “And she’ll stay that way as long as you follow my instructions.”

“You son of a bitch,” Billy growled as he shook with anger.

Big Ed ignored the insult and went ahead with his instructions, “I’m going to text you an address from this lovely lady’s phone and you’re going to meet me here in exactly one hour. Come alone. If I see even one other person, she dies. Got it, pretty boy?”

Billy snarled as he gripped the phone so hard it almost broke. Between the insult and taking you, this guy just signed his own death certificate, he just didn’t know it yet. The line clicked and right away a text came in with the address along with a photo of you that made his blood boil. You were unconscious and tied to a chair with a piece of duct tape on your mouth. You didn’t look hurt, which was a small relief, but Billy had never felt more angry, and scared, in his life.

“I’m coming for you baby,” he mumbled to himself as he grabbed every weapon he could and bolted out.

You grumbled as you slowly regained consciousness and found yourself in an uncomfortable chair in the middle of a small, dimly lit room. When you tried to move, you found that your arms were bound behind you with an extra amount of rope around your midsection and your ankles were tied to the legs of the chair. You tried to take in a deep breath, but it was hard due to the duct tape on your mouth. 

A laugh from the corner of the room made you snap fully awake as you tried to turn towards the sound.

“About time you joined us here my lovely,” the voice got closer to you as he spoke and you flinched when you felt a hand caress your cheek. “Oh don’t be like that, baby.”

I’m not your baby, you thought as you glared at him. When he stepped more into your line of vision, you recognized him as Big Ed. But, you hid your shock well. When he tried to run his fingers across your skin, you shook your head and mumbled curses through your gag.

“Feisty aren’t you?” he teased you, “I like that in a woman. And you’re smart too, I’ve had to stay one step ahead of your research. Although you’re the closest anyone’s ever come to revealing my past.” 

Big Ed squeezed your cheeks so hard it made tears form in the corners on your eyes as he leaned in and sneered at you, “I really didn’t want to have to do this, but your boyfriend forced my hand.”

I don’t believe that for a second, you thought as you kept your glare pointed at him. You inhaled and reared your head back as far as you could before you pushed it toward and collided with him with as much force as you could muster. 

“Bitch,” he shouted as he hit you across your face in retaliation. 

You let out a muffled cry when his fist connected with the side of your face, and you would have fallen over from the force of his hit had he not grabbed your shirt to keep you seated upright. He was about to hit you again when an alarm sounded down the hallway.

“Right on time,” Big Ed released you and stepped toward the door, “Once I’m finished with your pretty boyfriend, you and I will pick up where we left off.”

His words sent chills down your spine as he stepped out of the room and locked it behind him. You struggled against your restraints but nothing budged and you let out a heavy sigh. There was no doubt in your mind that Billy would find you, but you found yourself worried for his safety because you were sure Big Ed was a man who played dirty. 

From down the hall, you heard multiple gunshots, followed by shouts and grunts. Every sound made you jump, since you had no idea what was happening just outside the door. You heard the sound of what you guessed were bodies slammed against the wall and you knew it was a fight not too far from the room you were trapped in.

Soon, it got quiet and you kept your eyes on the door as you waited with baited breath. You heard the sound of doors slammed open and one by one, you heard it get closer and closer until the door in front of you swung open with a loud bang.

Out of reflex, you squeezed your eyes shut since you couldn’t move at all. You hated the way you felt so helpless and you could only hope that it wasn’t Big Ed that just burst through the door. 

When you heard your name in Billy’s voice, your eyes shot open and you let out a big sigh of relief. You saw Billy stand in the doorway with his gun drawn, blood all over his body and a fierce look on his face. But his face dropped as soon as he saw you and he tucked his gun away and rushed over to you and said your name again.

“Fuck,” even though Billy saw the photo Big Ed sent him, nothing could have prepared him for seeing you like this in person, “It’s ok. It’s ok,” he repeated, “You’re ok baby. I got you.” Billy’s hand shook as he untied your ankles first before he quickly stopped the tape off your mouth and moved to unite your arms. 

“Billy,” your voice was just above a whisper as you choked back tears. 

The moment your arms were free, you wrapped them around him, and he responded right away. Billy slowly brought you to your feet with his arms around your waist as he whispered comforting words into your ear. 

“You’re safe. I’ve got you baby,” Billy said again and he hated how much his voice shook. He held you tight for a few moments before he pulled back to inspect your face, “Are you hurt?” he brought a hand up to your face and he noticed the bloodstain from where Big Ed hit you and frowned.

You shook your head, “I’m fine,” truthfully you felt sore but you didn’t want to worry Billy any more than he already was. All you wanted to do was get out of here and back home, safe in Billy’s arms. 

Suddenly, a noise from the doorway called both of your attention, and Billy turned around to find that a battered and bleeding Big Ed blocked the exit. The man snarled and raised his gun to aim right at you.

Both you and Billy reacted in tandem as you both reached for his gun. Your hands wrapped around the weapon together and it was as if you moved as one. With ease, the two of you raised the gun and shot him right in the head in one fluid motion.

When Big Ed’s lifeless body hit the ground, you let out a heavy breath. Billy lowered the gun and turned his attention back to you; his arms locked themselves tightly around your body once more. Neither of you spoke as he took you back to his penthouse and had your injury looked at then got you cleaned up and changed.

Billy never once left your side and he barely let go of your body since he found you. He was always protective of you, but after this he felt even more determined than ever to keep you safe. While he cleaned you up, he mumbled apologies and promises that he would do better in the future.

You barely spoke and you couldn’t stop the nerves from rushing through your body. It was only when Billy brought you to bed and laid next to you with his arms securely around you that you finally felt yourself relax. You laid with your head on his chest and just listened to the sound of his heartbeat, which finally slowed down from when it spiked earlier.

“I guess I was right about him, huh Billy?” your voice was weak but you still tried to cover your anxieties with humor. Billy let out a single short laugh at that and kissed the top of your head.

It was well past midnight when you were finally able to fall asleep, but Billy laid awake still with you in his embrace. He listened to the sounds of your heavy breaths and soft snores as he ran his fingers across your skin. 

“I’m never gonna let anything happen to you again,” Billy promised your sleeping form before he finally let himself drift off to sleep as well.

~

Notes: Protective!Billy is my JAM!!!! I’ve had this in my head for awhile and I just had to write it!! It’s been a minute since I’ve written for Billy and I miss him so much! And in case anyone is wondering, I did name the bad guy Big Ed after the guy on 90 day fiance lol

Everything taglist:  @thirsty-flygirl @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @the-purity-pen @bisexual-space-slut​

Billy Russo Taglist @witchygagirl​ @runawayolives​ @morriganwarrior @fictionwillneverdie​ @thanossexual​ @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat​ @fific7​ @shadow-assassin-blix​ 

[buckleysjareau]

double vision wrapped in last night’s party clothes

"I have always been honest with you." When Eddie's voice cracks, Buck's composure almost cracks with it. "Why can't you just be honest with me?"

or

When Buck is let in on a long kept family secret, he doesn't know what to do. He almost ruins things with the one person that keeps him from feeling like he's floating away with no way to land, but it ultimately turns out okay with help of a little communication.

for @cirrius-akiyo

Read on AO3

TW; descriptions of anxiety, emetophobia to be safe, car accidents and death of a very minor original character

From the moment he woke up with a pounding headache and an arm wrapped around his waist, Buck knows he fucked up. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling, waking up hungover in someone else’s bed, not being able to remember a thing. The feeling of knowing he fucked up, it was nothing new. 

But that wasn’t him anymore. He doesn’t drink until he can’t remember anything except the sensual touch of whoever’s finger tips, not anymore. He doesn’t do one night stands anymore. That was all Buck 1.0. That wasn’t who Buck was anymore, so before even opening his eyes to see what kind of room he’s in and who he’s with, he feels enough shame to make him nauseous. 

Dread consumes him when his eyes flicker open to the all too familiar plaid blankets and the toned, tattooed arm around him. 

Eddie Diaz. Eddie fucking Diaz. Edmundo Diaz. His best friend. His partner. His entirely platonic other half. Oh, fuck. He truly did fuck up. Eddie didn’t do one night stands, ever, so maybe this was an entirely platonic and clothed cuddle. He doesn’t have to freak out just yet. 

Then his eyes fall on his boxers on the floor and—

What the fuck happened? 

He swallows down his need to vomit and winces slightly as he tries to lift Eddie’s arm off of him without waking him up. He can’t believe he’s sneaking out of his best friend’s house, a house that he’s never really felt like a guest in. The thought sends a shock of pain through his heart, realizing how truly bad he fucked up. 

As he quickly and quietly dresses, his phone buzzes on the floor loud enough to make Eddie stir. He cringes and grabs his phone as quick as possible, letting out a breath of relief when Eddie doesn’t wake. 

The second he catches sight of the multiple missed calls and texts notifications on his phone, he freezes as everything comes back to him. 

“Nothing I ever did was good enough… now I know why.”

Bile rises to his throat as everything rushes back to him and he books it out of Eddie’s house, barely making it to his car before he empties his stomach of all the alcohol and absolutely none of the shame. 

He’s in his car and on the road by the time he realizes it’s hard to catch his breath and tears are blurring the road ahead of him. 

Name five things you can see, he hears Eddie’s voice in his head. Eddie is one of the sources of his anxiety right now, but he’d helped the last time so Buck goes through it in his head as he pulls over.

Five things you can see. The red truck he’s parked behind. A woman walking her dog. House with pink shutters. Halloween decorations. The pool in someone’s backyard. 

Four things you can feel. His steering wheel vibrating under his hands.  The air from his vents. Sweat soaking his back. His head against the headrest.

Three things you can hear…

By the time he’s through with listing things, he can breathe normally and his vision is cleared enough to drive the rest of his way home. He’s not very religious, but he prays that no one is waiting for him when he enters his apartment.

His heart clenches when his phone buzzes with a text from Eddie and shuts his phone off before he can see what he had to say. 

“Buck? What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at Chimney’s with your parents?” 

Before Eddie can ask anymore questions, Buck shakes his head. “Do you have any alcohol?”

“You came here for a beer?” Eddie asked incredulously, eyebrows raised. 

“I was thinking something stronger.”

-

His head pounds as he makes his way into the station, a half hour before his shift, and he immediately wants to leave.  He knows Eddie is going to walk in any minute now, and Chimney, too. He doesn’t know if he can look at either of them right now. 

“You knew?” Buck spits out at Chimney, the betrayal he’s feeling so strong he steps back as if he was physically struck. 

“Buck—” 

“No… don’t…” 

“Have a good morning, Buck?” Bobby asks as Buck enters the loft. What does he know?

“Why?” He asks defensively, causing his captain to sit up a little straighter with his eyebrow raised. 

“You okay?” 

“There’s something I need to show you…”

“What is this? Who is this?”

“Evan…”

“Yeah, of course.” He tries to smile but he knows it’s a grimace. He’s usually okay at faking smiles and acting like everything is fine when it’s not, but now absolutely nothing is okay, he realizes. Everything that he found comfort in when things were falling apart has been tainted by this secret now.

Chimney had known something about Buck that he hadn’t known about himself and continued to look him in the eyes like he wasn’t keeping something huge. He feels nauseous all over again at the thought of seeing him today, and he’s not even mad, he’s just hurt. 

Eddie should be walking in right about now and Buck’s heart is in his throat when he hears footsteps coming up the stairs and he’s just not ready for the Eddie confrontation so he’s the tiniest bit relieved when it’s Chimney instead. 

“Oh, thank God you’re alive,” is not what he expects to come out of Chimney’s mouth but Buck’s heart clenches in a way that hurts.

“I told him because I was trying to protect you,” 

“That doesn’t make it any better!” 

Eddie just reaches the top step when Bobby starts the beginning of shift announcements and Buck thanks his lucky stars that there wasn’t time for a confrontation between announcements and chore assignments. 

He looks up for one second to meet Eddie’s eye before averting eye contact in less than a second. 

“Buckley, you’re with me on getting lunch started!” 

He’s relieved he’s not with Eddie or Chimney, but he has a feeling he knows why Bobby is assigning him to lunch duties, and that was so he could pry whatever out of him. He’d done it a few times, and normally Buck didn’t mind but this wasn’t something he wanted to even admit, let alone tell his Captain about it.

“Don’t you dare walk out that door!” His dad’s voice boomed around the apartment, reminding him of all of the times talks about his grades and his future turned into screaming matches. 

“Buck!” His head snaps up at the sound of Bobby’s voice.

“Yeah?”

Bobby gestures with his eyes at his hand that was currently covered in the tomato he didn’t realize he was squishing in his hands. 

“Oh.” 

Bobby clears his throat from behind Buck as he rinses off his hands. “Alright, what’s going with you? Where’s your head at? Is it the bomb threat call that’s got you so bothered?”

Buck shakes his head. “It’s nothing, Bobby.”

“It’s not nothing, Buck. Is it your parents?” Bobby knows he’s onto something when Buck tenses. “You don’t have to talk to me about it but you do have to let me know if you’re not in the headspace to—”

The alarm blares and Buck jumps into action before Bobby can even finish his sentence. He’s fine to go out on calls, he has to be, he cannot sit there at the station with the storm that’s raging in his head. He needs to do the one thing he can’t fuck up.

Bobby gives him a look as he gears up but he just gives him a thumbs up and hops into the truck.

Eddie is across from him, trying to meet his eye yet again but Buck continues to stare out the window. He knows he’s being a coward, he does, but his stomach drops whenever he thinks of meeting Eddie’s eyes, dreads seeing the ‘it was a mistake' eyes. He dreads seeing the inevitable. 

“What do you want, Buck?” Eddie pants above him, eyes dark and searching.

“Make me forget.” He sounds desperate and he is, he’s desperate to forget and he’s desperate for Eddie. 

“Make you forget what?” 

“Just make me forget, please, Eddie. Please.”

“Will you look at me?” Eddie’s voice filters in through the headset. 

Buck takes a deep breath in and releases it before he looks to Eddie. Brown eyes meet his blue and Buck immediately sees the frustration in the way his eyebrows scrunch, but he can also see the fear and he did this.

“Are we okay?” 

The grimace returns. “Of course, Eds, why wouldn’t we be?”

“You left before–”

“Buck… please don’t leave. We can talk about this.”

“You didn’t talk about it for twenty-nine years, why do we have to talk about it now?”

“Buck, let’s go!” Hen shouts as she shuts the door and Buck really needs to get in the right head space because if Bobby benches him now, after quite literally everything in his life is falling apart, he might not be able to recover from this.

His heart is beating erratically as he uses the K-12 to get the door off of the T-boned car, Eddie by his side with the Jaws. The girl in the driver’s seat, probably not even eighteen yet,  is hysterical and Eddie tries to calm her down but the door won’t budge with just the Jaws. 

Her screams get louder the second the door is pulled off and when a name tears through her gut wrenching sobs, Buck notices Hen about three feet away giving CPR to a middle aged woman. 

“Julia!” 

“Ma’am, I need you to stay still for me while I get this on you,” Eddie’s controlled tone echoes through Buck’s ears.

“Please don’t let her die, please, this is my fault!” 

Buck swallows the lump in his throat before he focuses his full attention on the girl. “Miss, listen to me,” he tries so she won’t turn her head to him. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Samantha.” She chokes out but it seems like she’s calming down enough for Eddie to put the C-Collar on while Chimney keeps her head stabilized. “Please, you have to save her, she–”

She starts shaking her head again, as best as she can between Chimney’s hands and Buck is so worried she’s going to cause more possible damage to her spine so he blurts out the first thing he can think of to keep her calm. “Tell me about Julia.”

“What? You have to save her.”

Buck sighs. “We’ve got the best paramedic in the LAFD working on her right now, okay? Can you tell me about her?”

Samantha sniffles. “I- I don’t know anything about her. She’s my b-birth-” she chokes on a sob. 

“She’s my birth mother.”

“Maddie… who is this?”

“It’s you… with your birth mother.”

Of fucking course. 

His heart stutters a beat before his eyes glance up at Chimney in the back and meets his eye before focusing his attention back on Samantha who’s still talking. 

“...and I was just giving her a ride home. I thought that was the nice thing to do and now she’s dead. She gave me life and I killed her!”

“Hey, no, you didn’t kill her. This isn’t your fault.” Buck promises vehemently, because he can. The accident wasn’t her fault, it was the drunk driver who had T-boned them and tried to flee the scene. 

“I… I found the records when I was cleaning out the garage during quarantine. My parents don’t even know I was meeting with her and I should have listened to them because she’s-she’s-”

“It’s okay, Samantha. We’re getting you out of here now.” Buck keeps his tone calm and controlled even though his emotions are tearing him apart from the inside out. 

They get her on the ambulance when Bobby calls it on Julia. Hen falls back to sit on her haunches and defeatedly sighs, wiping the sweat away from her head.

-

Buck feels numb. 

The ride back to the station is one big blur and before he knows it, he’s out of his gear and walking to the locker room when he’s stopped.

By Chimney.

“Buck, can we please talk?” 

Buck clenches his fists and takes in a deep breath before shaking his head. “No.”

“Buck, c’mon–”

“I can’t right now, man. I said no.” He starts off weak, his voice catching, but ends strong. Putting his foot down. 

He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding when he hears Chimney walking away. He grabs his work out clothes from his locker and slams the locker door shut, too many emotions coursing through him that needed to be let out somehow. 

The punches to the bag start slow, controlled, but soon, the hurt takes over. The anger takes over. 

A particularly hard swing echoes through the station, following the growl that rips loose from his throat. Buck pays no attention to the footsteps sounding from the staircase behind him.

He gives a quick glance at Eddie as he plants himself against the wall to the side of Buck but leaves it at that and continues to swing. 

“You wanna tell me what the hell is going on with you, Buck?” Eddie’s voice is tinged with concern, frustration, and desperation and Buck doesn’t know what to do with that. He doesn’t know what to say, how to get the words out. Like Dr. Copeland pointed out, he hides his true feelings from people and he thinks nothing’s ever been more true. 

“Nothing’s going on, Eddie.” 

Eddie huffs. “Right. You promised me we’d talk last night and then when I woke up, you were gone.”

“Eds, please, hurry up. Make me-”

“Forget, yeah, I got you, Buck. Just… promise me we’ll talk after?”

“I had plans with Chimney.” He huffs out the lie.

“Really? That’s funny, because Chimney says he hasn’t seen you since last night.” Eddie’s voice raises just a little but it’s enough to make Buck freeze. He blinks, takes off the gloves, and turns to leave. How hypocritical he is, talking about how everyone always leaves, when here he is, literally running away from every little problem.

He makes it to the locker room before he realizes Eddie followed him.

“If you think it was a mistake then please just tell me instead of lying to me and shutting me out.” 

The hurt in Eddie’s voice is so strong Buck completely freezes. When he goes to take in a deep breath, it gets caught in his throat and he can’t bring himself to move or try again. 

“I have always been honest with you.” When Eddie’s voice cracks, Buck’s composure almost cracks with it. “Why can’t you just be honest with me?”

The tears Buck tried to keep in started to fall and he should really breathe, he’s getting dizzy, he should breathe but he’s scared of the sound that’s going to come when he tries. 

“Buck.”

The sob erupts from the back of his throat before he can stop it and the force of it has him gasping for a breath he can’t quite catch. 

“Shit, Buck?” He hears before Eddie’s in front of him. “Hey, man, it’s okay. It’s okay. Just, talk to me, Buck.”

Another breath gets caught in his throat and the only thing Buck can think to do is bring his shaking hand up to his chest as if he could rub away the agony. 

Eddie goes to catch him before he even realizes he’s keeling over, his hand still trying to clutch at his chest, and Buck can only imagine how scary this must seem to Eddie. He tries to calm himself down for the sake of Eddie but breaths just keep getting stuck. 

“Is this another panic attack or is something else going on, Buck? Do I need to call Hen and Chimney down here? 9-1-1?” He can tell Eddie’s trying not to panic for the sake of not freaking Buck out even more.

“Don’t g-g-get Chimney,” He stutters out, he can barely get the words out of his mouth. “I- I don’t need med-medic-medical attention.”

Once Eddie believes that Buck is just overwhelmed, he jumps right into the only grounding exercise that ever seems to work for Buck and once he can feel something other than the mind-numbing pain that came along with the secret, he turns to apologize.

“You don’t have to apologize for that, you already know this.” Eddie reassures.

Buck shakes his head. “No… I’m sorry for leaving. I just, Eddie, I- I love you, and I felt like I’d just messed up the only place I’d felt at home in. Everything came rushing back and- and I couldn’t face it when I was being forced to face everything else. I’m sorry.”

Eddie smiled as Buck admitted he loved him, cheeks tinged pink, but listened intently to the rest.

“Hey, you didn’t mess up anything. I love you, too, Buck. So much. You’re always going to have a place in our home, last night didn’t change that. I actually kind of thought it solidified that, but I guess I didn’t do too great of a job showing you just how much you belong there.”

The knowledge that Eddie loves him back both thrills and scares him. 

“Eddie. I-I, you have to know, I’m not ready for anything ri-right now. I love you, shit, I love you so much. I’m just a mess right now and I don’t even know who I am, not anymore, not ever and I feel like I’m just floating with no way to land and I can’t… put that on you. I can’t- I mean, before I came to you last night…”

“Hey, it’s okay, we can talk through everything later. I’ve still got your back, ready or not.” He sees Eddie hesitate and the nausea comes back. Please don’t take it back. “Can you tell me why you came to me in the first place?”

It’s tense, quiet for a minute, as Buck decides to tell his best friend, his person, the secret that came into his life like a bomb to blow up everything he thought he knew about himself and his life.

“They told me I was adopted.” 

It’s so quiet in there, he could practically hear the crickets chirp. Though, he’s pretty sure that might be his heart.

“I, wow, Buck.” He clears his throat. “I don’t even know what to say. What can I do? To help, I mean.”

Buck, ever the one to deflect, smirks sadly at Eddie’s wording. “There he is.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve been too good with your words, I was starting to think alien possession made its way into our 2020.” He snorts. 

Eddie feigns offense. “Man, you know when it comes to you, I’ve almost always been good with words. You, on the other hand?” 

“Hey now,” Buck tries to fight back the first real smile since his parents had gotten into town, but gives up fighting it. “To answer your question, you’ve already done the only thing that can help me now.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“You stayed.”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

(@whimpers-and-whumpers) concept: Chris in college. He has to do a certain number of gen ed credits to get his degree. He ends up in a mythology class. Chris has a breakdown when the class discussion turns to Baldur, Norse god of light and purity.

CW: Referenced past pet whump, traumatic memories, vaaaaague suggestions about past noncon, past whump of a minor, brief internalized ableism, warning for past Oliver being a fucking creep

“Well, this one just has a stupid name,” Ben says, squinting at his mythology textbook, tapping at a page. 

“What, what is it?” Chris and Ben are ‘studying’ together, which today mostly means Ben is studying and Chris is thinking about Laken’s arms when they wear a tank top. 

Ben is on is stomach on his bed, book open in front of him, while Chris lays on his back on the surprisingly plush shaggy rug that Ben bought at Target three weeks ago. Chris could sleep on this thing if he wanted, it’s so comfortable. Not that Chris can’t sleep pretty much anywhere. 

Chris closes his eyes, thinking about Laken’s smile, with their slightly crooked incisor tooth on the one side, when Ben says, “Baldur.”

Chris’s eyes open back up.

Baldur, darlin’. His Sir is calling him, hand on his head, waking him from his doze hidden under his desk, curled into a ball in the safe, dark space. Baldur, wake up, sweetheart, were you dreaming again?

“Why would you name a god Bald-er? Like, celebrate not having hair, I guess. What a stupid name.”

Nicky’s voice, wrinkling his nose, saying I’m not going to call you that when he heard. 

“That’s not, um, not what it, it, it means,” Chris says. Ben doesn’t use the overhead light when Chris is in his room - it buzzes in a way that gets under Chris’s skin. Instead, he uses warm yellowy lamps, and opens the curtains over the window to let outside light in. 

“Oh, you know this?” Ben looks up, and Chris’s face is carefully schooled emptiness, as much as it can be. Ben doesn’t know what to look for, so he doesn’t see it, and that’s what matters.

“Yep,” Chris says, shifting uneasily. Laying on his back suddenly feels wrong and also entirely right, exactly how he’s meant to be. He catches himself and pushes up to seated, looking out Ben’s window, focusing on the blue sky, slivers of white clouds, the gentle rattle of wind against the window when it gusts.

He reminds himself that he can go out there whenever he wants.

“Well... tell me something about him that’s more interesting than this stupid paragraph.” Ben taps the page again.

Sir, can, can, can you-... can you, can-

Words, Baldur. Do you need to practice with the metronome again?

No! No... no thank you... Sir. I, I can... can you... tell me about... the mistletoe, again?

Much better. Of course I can, darlin’. Come kneel here next to me.

“Baldur is, um, is, is... Old Norse it means, um, ‘brave’.” Chris sighs, fiddling with the seam of his pants, shifting his hands up to rub at a rough spot on his knee, then up to the feather necklace he’s always wearing, rubbing at the textured, carved plastic carefully. “Or, you know, in, um, in... sometimes they, they think, it’s the same as, as... same root as Belobog-”

“The same what as what now?” 

“Um, Belobog is, um, is, is, is... is is is, is a, a day... a god of day. Slavic. Um. But, but so, so there’s this idea that maybe Baldur meant, um, Baltas, or, um, an older word like it, because Baldur was, was... beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” Ben watches him with interest, but Chris doesn’t look at him. His Sir’s voice is in his ear, a hand tipping up his chin. Somewhere his Sir is... is still there, not in the big mansion with the hallway anymore, but... he’s somewhere. And Chris can feel him.

“Yeah,” Chris says, almost breathes. “Baldur was, was, was, was... was the most beautiful god.” He feels every line of his face, that his Sir once traced with his fingertips. He’s pretty. He knows he’s pretty. Too beautiful to be for anything else, sweetheart.

“Wow. So, what else do you know about him?”

It starts like this, darlin’. Baldur had a dream...

“Baldur... had a dream,” Chris says, and his voice shifts, slows down. He goes still where he sits on the rug, staring outside at the sky through Ben’s window. He sits perfectly still, breathing in a slow, even in-and-out, as if guided by the ticking of the metronome all over again. “He dreamed... about dying. And his mother did, too. His mother... dreamed his, his death. Just, just like he did.”

Ben’s face is serious and thoughtful, watching as Chris’s thumb stops rubbing at the feather necklace, and it drops back to thump against his chest.

“He was... sad, because the gods... the, the, the gods-... sorry, wrong, um, bad words, I just-... the gods...”

The gods dream in prophecy, Baldur, pretty thing. Never forget. Gods dream futures.

Yes, yes, yes, Sir.

And I dreamed your future, so what does that make me, sweetheart?

Did Sir ever dream this?

“The gods dream in prophecy,” Chris says, echoing his Sir’s voice in his head. “Frigg was, was, was scared.”

“Wait, that’s-” Ben turned pages in his notebook. “You mean Freya?”

“Frigga, Frija, Frigg,” Chris mumbles. The sky outside the window seems so far away, now.

“She, um, she went around and asked... asked, um, everything on Earth to, to... to promise they would never, never hurt Baldur. And... everything did, except... mistletoe.”

“Mistletoe? Like, the shit you kiss under at New Year’s?”

“Right. Everything but, but mistletoe.” He pulls his knees tight to his chest and sits like that, feeling Sir’s hand drift over the back of his neck, two fingers crook underneath soft leather of a collar Chris no longer wears. “It was... small, and a soft, soft thing, unimportant. When... when Loki-”

“Oh, I know who he is,” Ben says confidently, smiling now - but there’s a hint of something like worry in his eyes as he takes in Chris sitting perfectly still, like he’s carved from stone. 

“When, when Loki heard... he had a, a, a spear made of mistletoe. Loki didn’t, didn’t want to get in trouble for murder, so, um... so, so, so so so he gave the spear to, to, to Baldur’s brother, who was blind. Everyone threw things, at, at Baldur, and it bounced off, and Baldur’s smile was... was like the sun. Everyone loved him.”

Who could ever love you, pretty pet, but me?

“Baldur’s brother threw the, the spear. And killed him.”

Ben blinks, shifts forward. “He did? Holy shit.”

“Um, yes. Because, because the mistletoe-”

“Right. Because the mistletoe never promised not to hurt-... wow, that’s dark shit. Loki did that on purpose?”

“Yeah, he, um, he’s Loki. So. But, so, so, so... so this person, Baldur’s own family, um... killed him.”

“Yeah... shit. What happened after that?”

Chris rubs at the back of his neck, and feels the warmth of his Sir’s palm press over his hand, feels his mouth press a kiss to Chris’s coppery hair-

No, his hair is blue now. He did it himself. His hair is blue.

“Baldur,” He whispers, “went, went, went to, to, to... to... to hell-... I mean, um, to, to Hel, the goddess of the underworld. She, she, she saw his beauty and-... kept him. Be, beside her. And... and he couldn’t, couldn’t escape it, and come back, unless everything on earth cried for, for, for, for... for his loss. But one giant refused. So...” He trails off. “That’s, um, that’s... there’s more, but... yeah.”

“Wow.”

Chris swallows.

Well done, darlin’. You’ve never forgotten a single thing you learned for me...

“How do you know all this shit about fucking Norse gods, Chris?” Ben taps his pen on his paper, looking at his own sharp, angular handwriting, the notes he’s been taking all along. 

Unlike Chris’s notebooks, covered in loopy scrawling writing and with the margins full of doodles of shapes and little drawings of animals, Ben’s margins are as neat and empty as they can be. 

Chris usually feels like what his hand draws, a constant movement, a constant shift, filling his life in with his motion. Right now, though, he feels like Ben’s margins, empty open space. Paint over what was there before, and nothing’s left but the blank spots.

Chris shrugs. He pretends he doesn’t feel the soft weight of his Sir’s hand, resting just over the back of his neck, the brush of his lips over Chris’s earlobe, the whisper of his voice sending a shiver down his spine.

Beautiful boy. Would you like to hear about how Odin got his eight-legged horse today, darlin’?

Yes, yes... yes, Sir. Tell... tell me, tell, but can I... after can you tell me about, about Baldur again?

Silly boy. Of course I can. Lay down on your back for me. 

“I, I knew someone,” Chris says, his heart skipping a beat. He can almost feel himself leaning back into a phantom hand through his hair, ready to lay down on navy silk sheets, like none of the good things ever happened.

Like he’s still a beautiful boy, living in hell.

He breathes in, and then out. Tries to replace the feeling of Sir’s arms around him with the daydream he’s been having about Laken’s arms instead. 

“I knew someone who, um... who liked the, the stories about Baldur. A, a long time ago.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. A, um... a kid.”

“Like, a brother? I thought you just had your adopted brothers.”

“Um, no, not, not, not... not my brother.” Chris grips onto his feather necklace, again. He can almost feel the warmth of Laken’s skin when they accidentally bump against him in line to get dinner at the dining hall. “Not my brother. Just... just, um, a kid... who was kind of like me.”

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary - @whimpers-and-whumpers

(Nicky - briefly referenced here - is @orchidscript’s OC Henry)

[captaincravatthecapricious]

Is That Your Blood? Prompt Fill

Jon is missing. Martin and Tim need to get him back.

cw blood, references to nonconsensual touching canon typical of the circus, canon typical levels of Tim being self destructive

This is one I wrote last week for my bingo prompts! I have started writing the another, but please be patient with me I got very behind doing things while I was writing so much and now I am mostly caught up but the serotonin and motivation levels are low. I am still accepting bingo prompts, but again it might be slow going for a bit. Let me know if you want art or fic and which character you want! (Pro tip, I am much faster at the art).  The starred prompts are ones I already have and have outlined, the crossed out ones are already written and posted.  Card by the wonderful @celosiaa​

Jon is missing.  

Tim should have known it immediately.  He should have noticed the second he was gone.  But Jon had gone to see Georgie, and wasn’t clear if he was planning on staying with her or going back to Tim’s flat.  He should have known Jon would have come back if he could.  He had been glued to either Martin’s or Tim’s side.  

Just barely well enough to work.  Still small and weak and breakable.  Still occasionally dizzy.  Still aching headed when he worked for too long.  Hands still painful and sore.  

And he’s gone.  And Tim should have known sooner.  

And there is one smug bastard who could tell him where Jon is, but the slimy twat just gives him a placid smile saying “he doesn’t know.”  Utter bullshit.  

Which is why Martin and Tim have a whole box of statements and a lighter.   

When Elias storms out of his office, Tim gives him the most innocent of smiles, as if he isn’t actively holding a burning statement in the middle of the hall.  “Oh hey, double boss, how’s it hanging?”  

Elias looks very very angry, but also like he is trying to look nonplussed.  And failing.  “These documents are for archiving, not kindling.  There will be repercussions for these actions.”  

Tim drops his smile.  “And there are repercussions for whatever you’ve done to Jon.  I don’t care what you do to me, I’ll set the whole archives alight if you don’t tell me where he is.”  

Something dangerous and self destructive and manic must have shown on Tim’s face, because Elias grumble something about it probably being long enough anyhow and finally gives them an address, which Martin is scribbling down before Elias can even turn on his heel.  

“Well that went well!”  Says Tim brightly.  

Martim hmmmms.  “We might want to be concerned about those repercussions?  But… we can worry about that once Jon is back.”  

Tim snorts.  “What can he do?  Not like he can even fire us.  And if he does, we’re better off.”

Martin drops his burning statement in the bin, looking unreasonably disappointed about the lack of continued arson that they would be committing, (or rather wouldn’t be committing).  “But you won’t leave until we’ve stopped the Unknowing.”

Tim’s face darkens again.  He can feel it, and he doesn’t care at all.  “You’re right.”  

“Right…  You will try and come back from it… Please?”

Tim shrugs.  “Ask me once we get Jon back.”

The drive to the wax museum is tense.  Things are easier between Martin and Tim than they have been in months, but their shared concern is palpable.  Jon is missing.  Jon is kidnapped.  Jon is possibly hurt.  The circus has Jon.  The Circus.  That Circus Tim has screamed himself awake over more nights than he can count.  And he wishes that he could just set the whole thing on fire right now.  he doesn’t want to wait, now that he knows where they are.

Fuck caution.  Fuck everything.  He wants his revenge.  

But… but Jon.  

He can’t lose Jon.  

Not like he lost…..

He can’t even think their names without shattering like thin glass dropped in boiling water.  

They find Jon.  He isn't guarded.  He's tied to a chair, very naked, very bruised, and very bloody.  He's suspiciously shiny looking and smells strongly of something artificial and floral.  

He's shivering.  And Tim's blood boils.  

Jon was just starting to heal!  And Tim knows the heavy bruising might partly be due to EDS, but this is absurd.  He shouldn't be bruised at all!  

Jon is hunched over, small and shaking and barely conscious.  Hiding from the world behind his tangled and greasy hair.  

"Shit, Jon, is that all your blood?"  Martin squeaks.  

It is, clearly.  Jon isn't with it enough to even notice them, but the blood on his face and chest is clearly from a bloody nose, and the blood on his wrists and ankles look to be from where the rope is biting into him.  

Martin rushes forward.  Tim is frozen in place.  Frozen in anger and terror, just like he had been all there's years ago.  This won't happen again.  This can't happen again.  He can't survive losing someone else to this... whatever the HELL this is.  He can't do it.  Not again.  

Jon screams the moment Martin touches him.  Or tries to.  It's then that Tim notices the gag in Jon's mouth.  

That does it.  THOSE FUCKING BASTARDS THEY COULD HAVE KILLED JON.  JON HAS ATHSMA.  HE COULD HAVE FUCKING DIED.  HE COULD HAVE FUCKING DIED THEY COULD HAVE BEEN TOO LATE.  JON COULD HAVE DIED BECAUSE OF A STUPID CLOTH IN HIS MOUTH.  

While Tim is trying not to scream or punch a wall or spontaneously combust, Martin is speaking softly to Jon, probably trying to get Jon to recognize him as something real and tangible and not a threat.  Tim sees Jon timidly nod in response to Something Martin says, and Martin gently removes the gag.  Touching Jon as little as possible.  

Jon starts sobbing.  

Tim can see Martin's heart break.  

Jon had been getting so affectionate with them.  Leaning into every touch, instead of backing away.  Now... he's more skittish than ever.  Tim takes a few deep breaths before finally walking over.  

"Hey, buddy.  Do you think I could untie you?"  

Jon stares at him for a long moment.  

Tim raises his hands so Jon can see he doesn't have any weapons or anything.   

Jon slowly nods, twisting painfully in his seat so he can watch.  His movement tightening his bonds.  Making Tim's job considerably harder, but... that's fine.  Keeping Jon calm is important.  

Tim's goal has to stay saving Jon, and if he sees any member of the Circus, he is sure to lose sight of that in favor of revenge, consequences be damned.  

They get Jon free, and he immediately curls into a stiff little ball, whimpering.  Crying harder when anyone tries to touch him.  Tim goes to fetch a blanket from his car.  Jon might feel a little less afraid if he is less exposed.  Not to mention, Tim would like to keep his car not blood-soaked if he has the option.  And he wants to keep Jon warm.  That should be his top priority.  

It quickly becomes apparently that Jon can't walk.  He can barely move.  Sore from the bruises and being tied up.  

"Jon, would it be alright to pick you up?  We need to get out of here."  Martin.  God bless his gentle voice.  God bless Jon's infatuation.  Jon bites his lip hard, but nods.  He's wrapped tightly in the blanket now, face half hidden in it, flakes of dried blood starting to come loose from his face and decorating the blanket.  He flinches away from the hands lifting him, and he bites back a whimper, then a scream.  And Tim isn't sure if it's the horror of whatever he's been through, or the pain he's in, or the lingering vertigo, but he is hurting and it breaks Tim's heart.  

They make it out.  Martin spends the several hour drive in the backseat.  Trying to get some water and painkillers and dramamine into Jon.  (The last thing Jon needs s to be carsick in this state).  Jon just shivers and weeps.  Eventually trusting Martin enough to cling to him like he is the only solid thing in the world.  

By the time they reach Tim's flat, Jon is calm enough that he lets Tim and Martin guide him to the bath tub.  Jon very, very timidly consents to them helping him wash up.  (And only after he had been left alone in the tub and almost fainted trying to stand to shower and bringing all the soaps crashing down around him.)  

Tim gets to work on his hair, while Martin gently starts working the blood and grime and... is that lotion? off of Jon.  

Jon slowly relaxes.  Slowly starts to realize that he is really back with Martin and Tim.  That they won't touch anywhere that he doesn't want them to.  And he goes effectively boneless when the tub is drained, and Tim gives him a last rince with the shower, just as Tim knows Jon appreciates.  That gains him a weak smile as Tim narrates what he is doing, which also seems to calm Jon.  The only time he panicked during the process is when one of them touched him when his eyes slipped closed.  Jon had done his best to keep his eyes open after that.  But... by the end he couldn't manage it anymore.  Sinking into the touch as Tim had gotten used to him doing.  

Tim cooks that night.  Jon wrapped in blankets, dozing fitfully on Martin, as Martin carefully keeps his hands to himself and does a bit of writing.  Tim honestly can't tell if he's writing poetry or plotting his revenge upon the circus.  And Tim feels a twinge in his chest.  He has to survive this for them.  He can't leave them.  He can't leave them alone.  It scares him that Jon and Martin could die in...whatever their plan ends up being.  It scares him, and he won't let them die.  And... and if he can survive to keep protecting them, he has to.  

He makes curry.  Good and hot and filling.  Seasoned to Jon's preferences.  

He's cooked side by side with Jon before.  It's been a long time, between the baggage between them and Jon's recent illness and injuries, but he can hope Jon will cook with him again.  

Jon is slightly revived by then, and feels safe enough to let himself be held, both during the parade of Buzzfeed Unsolved supernatural episodes and beyond that, once the three of them are tucked safely in Tim's bed.  Jon in the middle.  Martin and Tim shielding him from the world.  So what if Tim sleeps with a baseball bat propped up next to his bed?  So what if Martin has resumed sleeping with a corkscrew?  They have Jon back, and they will not be losing him ever again.  

[slightlymore]

Snail

Disclaimer: I do not consider Jaehyun a fuckboy in the derogatory sense of the term, he’s just very flirty and cocky in this piece for entertaining purposes okay lol alright let’s go; also, no, the snail title has nothing to do with the sexy situation lol dw, it’s a cursed one but not that cursed Words: 5K Warnings: mention of blood (regarding a little cut on the hand, nothing serious) related to the plot not the sexy bits | manhandling and rough | oral (both) + swallowing + face fucking 

As the floor trembled and your escargot went flying all the way until meeting the handsome face of a stranger, you promised yourself to learn how to say no more often. You had no idea why you accepted to be on a cruise in the middle of the Pacific. Wasn't the Pacific supposed to be, you know, pacific? Or were you just that clumsy? 

Your mouth was open and it continued to grow ever wider at the look of one escargot sliding slowly on the man's eyes. He was standing there, with hands wide open in front of him as if someone splashed a bucket of cold water on his whole body. "I am-" you got closer with the first napkin you could find, "-mortified" you added, trying hard to build up courage and wipe the garlic off his nose. But you didn't manage to as he preferred to wipe his whole face with his palm instead. You watched him with a sorry and disgusted face, while awkwardly holding the fabric with both of your hands. Then he suddenly opened his eyes and gave you the most assassin of looks. His wet eyelashes accentuated the growing redness and his furrowed eyebrows created a deep, scary shadow. You gulped loudly and jolted as he slid the napkin from your fingers with a violent movement. "I apologize, I didn't-" you tried to speak again but as the man finished to wipe his face he turned his back to you and walked away throwing the napkin at your feet. "-mean to…" you whispered without completing the phrase as no one was there to listen to it anymore.

Your sister laughed loudly for a solid minute into the phone. You sighed but you felt the chuckle warm up your chest and you found yourself grinning as well. "I can imagine his face even if I don't know what he looks like-" she spoke again but choking on the words as another laughing fit interrupted her. You shook your head as if pretending to be disappointed by her behavior. "It was terrible. I've been here for 20 minutes and I've already made a fool out of myself," you commented. "Y/N, I know you don't like stuff like this, but that fundraising party is vital for the image of my company," your sister finally was able to catch her breath. You rested your elbows on the iron rails and looked down at the shining water. "Yes, don't worry, I can deal with all of this". "Just smile and shake hands and tell people who is giving the money you're giving," you listened to your sister's voice through the phone. The sun was so bright that it was almost difficult for you to keep your eyes open. You suddenly started to feel hot and tired, already socially exhausted after interacting with only one person. Turning around, you stared at the colorful clothes people were wearing, yellow, red, green, white, pink, bright blue and your head started to hurt. Everyone was chatting loudly, holding drinks, telling each other about their last investments, yachts, airplanes, jewelry, celebrity parties, vacation plans. What in the world would you talk with them about when your dress was $15 and your earrings probably plastic? You sighed again. "-and remember to talk to the fundraiser. He's a pain in the ass but rather charming if you know what buttons to press," you listened to your sister's last words while wondering what she said before that. "Alright, get well soon," you replied, eager to sit somewhere in the shade with a nice refreshing lemonade or something. You walked around the deck, thinking about how nice it would be to put your hot feet inside the cool water of the pool. But no, the fundraiser wanted a chic, semi-formal look for the party. As if anyone cares. You rolled your eyes, having a full-on conversation with yourself inside your mind, hovering over the refreshments. You poured yourself whatever looked fresh and not too sweet and downed it all. It was only when you turned around, hearing the mic being hit as if someone was trying to grab everyone’s attention that you realized you just had a big ass glass of alcohol. “Thank you for being here,” said the man. He was on top of the small stage from where the live band was providing people with background noise. People clapped and you imitated them, trying to walk at the front and see the fundraiser’s face. Finally, he was speaking. Afterwards, it wouldn’t be that weird to just go inside your cabin and chill for the rest of the day until dinner, would it? You “sorry, uhm, excuse me, haha, mind if I just-, thank you” ed you way until being able to see the man’s feet. First thing: boat shoes. Okay, you were on a boat, kind of, but, honestly? Come on. Then you raised your eyes to see his cream shorts and sighed. In the end you eyed his red shirt with black palms on it. What a rollercoaster. But it wasn’t until you saw his face that you felt like falling down.  “Snail man!” you gasped covering your mouth with your hand. Curious eyes looked at you from left and right and the man himself stopped from talking and looked down at you. You didn’t yell that just now, did you? Now you were definitely going to be thrown off the ship. Snail man’s eyes were firing but his lips smiled when he cleared his throat and just continued the monologue as if you were a little fly not worth his attention. You pressed your lips together, hoping that your warm cheeks would be mistaken for sunburns instead of killing mortification. After everything was finished and the band started playing their music again, you debated whether talking to the fundraiser or not. He didn’t look very pleased to see you and you were afraid you were going to embarrass yourself even further, but your conscience didn’t let you just run away. You didn’t apologize properly and your sister would be upset that you didn’t talk to him at all. “Uhm, excuse me,” you spoke to him, rising your hand a little as when you’re too shy to call the waitress to ask for more breadsticks. He turned his head to look at you, one hand in his pocket and the other one holding a glass of champagne. His eyebrows got furrowed very quickly and you sensed that he was doing everything in his power to not roll his eyes. “Ah, snail woman herself,” he commented with a dry voice. You walked towards him hurriedly as if glad he gave you a chance to talk to him. “I wanted to properly apologize for the incident. I didn’t do it on purpose… uh…” you knew his name was Jung Jaehyun but he was too young for you to use honorifics with him. At the same time, he definitely looked like someone wanting to be called Sir. He sighed. “Call me Mr. Jung,” he told you. Yep. “Mr. Jung,” you repeated. He sipped on his drink again. You stared. Uhm?? He should tell you that he’s forgiving you now, right? That’s how human interactions work. I’m sorry. Oh no, it’s alright. “Is there something else you wanted to tell me?” he spoke after the awkward pause. Was there something else you had to tell him? You were kind of panicking. How do rich people talk? “I am Y/N?” you question, hoping it was what he wanted to hear. Nice to meet you Y/N, let’s just pretend that we didn’t have an abrupt first contact and let me help you feel less embarrassed. But no. He laughed at you. Yeah. Just like that. He laughed loudly for everyone to hear while your whole face got even more flushed than before.  The people that were close enough to you to hear your conversation, chuckled secretly, giving you weird stares.  You stared at his face.  If you didn’t feel a slow-boiling rage inside your chest, you might have considered his laugh charming, with those white teeth and deep dimples of his. But you were indeed starting to feel rather irritated. You did splatter him in buttery escargots and called him a snail, but you apologized and he definitely saw how mortified you were. Was this a way to make you pay? You looked around and felt the urge to hug yourself but you didn’t want to look more vulnerable that you actually were. “Okay, I’m sorry,” he talked again and you locked eyes with him again. He was still amused but a softer light adorned his eyes. “I’m messing with you. It’s fine. We’re cool, don’t worry about the snails,” he added, walking towards the refreshments table and looking around, unsure. You tailed him to be able to hear what he was saying. He was probably those types of people that were used to just walk around a company while six people surrounded him taking notes and helping him to take off his jacket. “Escargot,” you whispered. The man shrugged. “Snails that you eat. Besides, you called me snail man, not escargot man”. You took a glass of orange juice while he smelled some pastries. “Unless you wanted to say that I look like a snail,” he considered. “Oh no, you don’t look like one at all,” you assured him. “And how do I look?”. “Very handsome-” you sputtered before being able to stop yourself.  Okay, what the actual fuck? There were legit thousands of different ways to say it. You look fine. You look nice. You look good. Nonchalantly Y/N. More casual. As if you don’t care. No. You look very handsome. God. To the snail man that embarrassed you just 1 minute ago. Mr. Jung looked at you with the corner of his eye and smiled. Who knows how many times he has heard that before. “Honestly, you caught my eyes as you entered the cruise. I was there when you tripped because I was coming to talk to you,” he confessed. His tone was flat though as if he was talking about the weather. Your head jerked into his direction.  How does one reply to that? Thanks? Should you feel flattered? Okay, he was a very handsome man but if he needed only a piece of garlic thrown to his face to change his mind about you (when it was an accident) then you didn't want it. “I see,” you talked awkwardly while your hand tried to put down your empty glass. “Hey, caref-” Mr. Jung warned you but it was too late. Your nerves were so thin that you didn’t realize how fragile crystal glasses actually were. “Oh, shit-” you stared at the shattered pieces in your hand. One of your fingers was quick to bleed little beads of blood. “I am so sorry,” you apologized for what you felt was the 20th time that day. For no reason.  “Let me see,” Mr. Jung ordered, carefully cleaning the skin of any remaining fragments after you opened your hand. “I have a first aid kit in my suite. Let’s go,” he spoke again and taking your other hand he just walked away, as if completely sure you'd follow him. You tugged a little trying to convince him that you were fine. “It’s alright. I have a band-aid in my purse”. Mr. Jung just stared at you without saying a word as if his eyes were powerful enough to command you to do what he wanted. Not negotiable, they were saying. You softened your grip and let yourself be dragged away with a sigh.

His cabin didn’t look like yours at all. It was much more spacious and elegant. His bed was round and luxurious. It looked so sensual with its red and black bedding that you had to look away. Your heels got buried in the soft and thick rug placed in the middle of the floor. Mr. Jung’s perfume impregnated the whole room and you felt a little light-headed. He took you to the desk in front of the big windows that were showing the lazy waves underneath the cruise. Leaving you there to rest your hips on the wooden furniture, he opened a cabinet and retrieved what he needed to disinfect your cut. When he turned around and got closer you could see how his expression was serious and stern, no trace of the flirty light from before. Maybe he didn't want you to sue him for hurting yourself on his cruise? You breathed sharply through your teeth when he placed the cold and wet cotton on your finger and he raised his eyes to look at you. You returned the glare. “It’s alright,” you whispered, inciting him to go on. You had no idea why you kept your voice so low. Maybe because he was standing so close to you, almost touching your knees with his thighs, or maybe because he looked so concentrated, his plump lips slightly open and a little line between his eyebrows. As he was looking down on your hand, you looked at his face for the first time without feeling shy. You didn’t like to see blood or maybe it was the sun hitting your head but you suddenly felt all your limbs very weak.  When he was done and looked up, you swallowed and made sure to be caught gazing at the surroundings instead of the nude collarbones his unbuttoned shirt revealed. But maybe he wasn’t that stupid. “You look very pale,” he commented while raising a hand and brushing his thumb on your lower lip. “You also look a little shocked,” he added more amused when you jolted at his touch. Yeah, because you’re touching me, not because of the cut.  What was he doing? Do rich people think that they own people as well? You tried to express that with your eyes but he looked unfazed as if doing that was as easy and normal as to shake someone’s hand. You knew you had to move away, tell him that you just need to get some rest, maybe lay down for a bit. But your limbs wouldn’t move.  You cleared your throat. “Thank you,” you murmured moving your hand as to indicate what you were referring to.  Mr. Jung was just staring, apparently not used to reply to gratitude, eyes slightly narrowed as if analyzing you, then they went down and openly looked at your breasts. 

Okay.  Alright. You didn’t wear any bra because it would have ruined the dress silhouette and you were already anxious out of your mind wondering if your nipples would show or not, so you definetly didn’t expect people to just staring at it. You gulped and let out a little nervous laugh while shifting your body, trying to do something that would distract him from staring at your boobs, not because you hated it, but because you suddenly felt exposed, shy and, God save us, maybe a little turned on. You shouldn’t have drunk that glass of alcohol. “Your suite is very nice. The color scheme is intense but charming-” you started to cary the conversation but felt your breath hitch as he got suddenly even closer as if not listening nor caring about what you were trying to discuss. “Please, don’t stop talking,” he purred. “I love your voice,” he added distracted.  “You’re not even listening to me,” you replied with a tiny sound. “Mm, you’re right, I’m focusing on other things right now,” he smiled finally lifting his gaze on your face. “Your dress has a blood spot right here,” he pointed to one of your nipples, touching it, definitely feeling how it got hard because of it. You quickly dropped your head to your chest to see. Damn it!, that was a big ass spot on your fucking bright yellow dress. “Why did you wait so long to tell me that?” you jerked your head up again.  He shrugged. “I got distracted”. And you knew what he meant with that. You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms on your chest and puffing your cheeks. He found that very funny and just laughed at you. Again. “I think I should go now,” you nodded to yourself as if building up the courage to get up. “Yeah”, Mr. Jung agreed. But you didn’t move nor did he. So, he tilted his head on the side and wetted his lips with the tip of his tongue,  getting as close as to whisper on your lips.  “Or maybe you’re waiting for me to help you get undressed?” he asked teasingly. His hands were pressed on the desk around your body, his arms feeling like a cage and his presence so intense that you physically shivered. “You- you should let me go,” you stuttered, even if you both already understood that you had no intention to go away. Mr. Jung let his dimples appear in a shiny smile. "What if I want to do something else?" he asked without breaking eye contact. You kept in a whimper, not used to hear people talking to you like that. "You'd have to at least buy me dinner first," you tried to joke and keep up with his vibe. "I'll fill you up so well that you won't want to eat anything else," he whispered and you've never felt your guts do what they just did ever before. Fuck.  "I-" you blinked unable to look at his eyes. What was happening? Why was the fundraiser flirting with you? Why weren't you already on your feet walking towards your cabin? Why were your fingers moving slowly to touch his wrist? Why did you were feeling the urge to let it brush his skin and follow the vein on his forearm until reaching the bicep then upon his shoulder, caressing it when it reached the soft part of the neck trying to understand if his pulse was beating as fast as yours or not. He let you do that as your eyes followed your hand and when it was close to his face you saw his jaw clench. You stopped.  "Go on," he ordered but you couldn't bring yourself to, feeling your cheeks suddenly burn. So he took your hand and forced it down on his chest, slowly, letting you feel his muscles underneath the thin shirt fabric, going down on his abdomen, making your breath hitch as he flexed his abs on your fingertips, not stopping, letting it slide on his cold belt until your palm was all the way on his turgid length. He pressed his hand on yours even harder, letting you understand what you were dealing with, not looking away from your face, loving your reactions. Oh, you were wet, fuck you were so wet. "Okay," you breathed out, "okay, okay, you won Mr. Jung". "But there is no game," he explained with a sly smile. "If you're trying to make me pay or embarrass me because of the incident, then I'm sorry again Mr. Jung-” you spoke trying to keep your composure that was holding itself on the thinnest thread ever. He chuckled. “I’m trying to tell you that I want to fuck you, miss Y/N,” he whispered against your ear, articulating every word, slowly, as if he was touching you already with his voice alone. You let out a tiny moan that became suddenly bigger as his tongue lightly traced the curve of your neck, making you stretch it to the side. Then he just bit down, hard, with no warning, sucking on the skin, grabbing your thighs, digging his fingers into your flesh and lifting you into his arms. You yelped and tightened your arms around his neck not expecting the movement and not expecting his throwing you on the bed either. You exhaled sharply as it knocked all of the air out of your lungs and he didn’t even give you a single second to breathe in again, that he was already on the bed, on his knees, between your legs. Oh, God. It’s about to happen. But he didn’t do what you thought he would do. His smile never flattered and his eyes never let you go while his palms caressed your legs slowly, from your calves, going underneath your knees, tickling your sensitive skin, then upon your thigh where the dress split started. You looked down at his hands and just gasped loudly when he held the fabric and just tore it apart. “It was ruined anyway, baby girl,” he assured you seeing your shocked expression. You jolted again when he touched your stomach and ripped your dress again, this time until the tear reached your chest and you felt the material sliding off your skin to the sides. Naked in one second, you shivered certain that your cheeks were burning. You wanted to say something, but you had no idea what should one say in these types of situations. “Would you help me take this off as well, babe?” Mr. Jung smiled. “I can’t possibly tear that apart,” you sat up shocked. Jaehyun’s deep laugh tickled your ears. “Just unbutton it, love, it’s enough,” he suggested and you obeyed lifting your hands to rest on his chest for a moment then slowly tackling the task. You felt Mr. Jung’s gaze on your body just as present as his fingers drawing little circles on your bare thighs. “You are so beautiful, miss Y/N,” he suddenly said making your hands tremble on the last button. His compliment didn’t linger in your mind too much though as the image in front of you knocked your thoughts out of your mind. You touched him, starting from the bottom, pressing your hands hard then going up scratching his skin with your nails. He breathed out as your fingers spread on his chest and you expected him to finally kiss you but he just raised one hand and cupped your face, feeling your cheek with his thumb then letting it descend on your neck, massaging your throat, applying some pressure, enough for you to open your lips in an attempt to breath better. Your legs squirmed around him, trying hard to get together, indicating him that something between them needed attention. But he just smiled and didn’t budge. His hand continued to go down on your body until reaching your soft breasts, cupping them, feeling the smoothness of your skin and the plumpness of your hard nipples. You whined at the touch and your eyes implored him to go faster. “Be a good girl for me, or I will stop,” he warned you softly. “You want me to stop?” You shook your head quickly, so easy to submit yourself to him. He smiled as if pleased and let your breasts go to unbuckle his belt. His pace was so calm and slow, so different from just a minute ago when he literally ripped your clothes off your body. He was a surprise and your core felt even wetter at the thought of what he might do next. When he let his thick cock out, pumping it slowly, licking his lips teasingly, you thought he wanted you to go down on him, and oh, you were so eager to do it, letting your tongue feel his veins and taste his flavour.  But he clicked his tongue with a dimpled smile as if reading your mind and directed his length on your breasts, hitting your nipples with the tip of his cock, little drops of precum smearing on them, making both of your breaths hitch. You looked down at how it moved and promptly grabbed your chest, tightening it around him, opening your mouth and letting a trail of saliva fall on it. Jaehyun hummed appreciatively and moved his hips between our breasts, loving the way your skin felt on his hot cock, grunting every now and then and biting his lower lip. You, on the other hand, were panting loudly, soon shut up by his fingers shoved inside your mouth to suck on them. Your tongue wet them well while looking up at him with lusty eyes as if asking if you were being a good girl or not. The answer was that you were so good that he had to feel that tongue on his cock as well. So he just grabbed your head by the nape and filled your mouth all in one go, hitting the back of your throat with the hottest groan you’ve heard a man do before. “Oh- oh fuck, fuck-” he managed to say as his adam apple went up and down, swallowing hard. He was so hot, rolling himself on your tongue, chocking you, thrusting fast, holding your face with both of his hands, staring down at how his cock disappeared between your lips. You whined at his size and you would have let him know that it was too much if he didn’t release right at that moment with a shudder of his hips. His expression was pained from pleasure and he tried to pull out but you grabbed his sides to keep him in place and he cursed again, feeling his cum slide down your throat as you swallowed around him, adding to the euphoria. A little trail of it came out your lips and down your chin that you promptly collected with your finger and licked off, slowly, not breaking eye contact.  “You are driving me fucking crazy,” his voice came out deep and dangerous just like the look in his dark eyes and just like his manners.  He grabbed your shoulders and pushed you down on your back but not giving you a second to catch your breath as you were already turned around on your stomach with a dull thud, his hands forcing you to get on all fours in front of him. Your panties were quickly dragged down your legs but your needy core wasn’t left bare too long as his tongue replaced the fabric, hugging your form tightly, vibrating restlessly on your bundle of nerves, smacking it by tugging it with his lip, caressing it with his thumb, stretching you out to fuck you with his fingers. Previously upright on your hands you just had to let yourself fall on the mattress, not having a single ounce of force in your arms anymore, pressing your face on the covers, mumbling nonsense as Jaehyun was sending you into pure bliss. His teeth followed his tongue on your thigh, biting the soft flesh and sucking on it hard, adding to the sensation his fingers provided so deep inside of you. “S-sir,” you whimpered breathlessly, “don’t stop, please,” you begged. And he didn’t. “Does it feel good, princess?” he asked before going back to tease your clit.  “Y-yes, yes, please, I want-” you whispered.  He knew what you wanted.  He kept on pumping your core fast even when you let out a high pitched sound, gripping the sheets underneath you and squirming restlessly. Your legs were still shaking in spasms when he rolled your over on your back again digging his fingers into your skin, not worried about leaving marks. You looked at him and whined seeing his cocky smile, knowing that nothing good would come out of it. Sprawled like that in front of him, letting him look at every inch of your body in broad sunlight, with your head clearer thanks to the explosive orgasm you’ve just had, you let your hands cover your breasts as if helping to cover you a little. A little tingle of shame caressed your spine and you couldn’t bear to look at Jaehyun in the eyes. He smiled placing his hands on your waist and dragging your body towards him, opening your legs around his hips with a rough movement. “Are you getting embarrassed for behaving like a little slut just now, angel?” he teased you, caressing your thighs. “Let me see everything, put your hands away,” he ordered. You looked at his face for a brief moment and gulped, nervous, still very turned on but so shy at the same time.  “I said,” he lowered his voice by a few notes, making your breath quicken, “put your hands away,” he added, intimidating as never before.  His expression was lusty but dangerous and you were about to obey, but he didn’t have much patience. He came closer as lighting and grabbing your wrists, he pinned them above your head, keeping them down in an iron grip. His chest was almost touching your breasts and his cock was laying between your wet folds. Jaehyun started to slowly roll his hips and you felt him harden at every movement, twitching on your raw clit, making you jolt. You breathed on his lips, thin moans forming on your tongue, mind starting to get foggy again, your everything telling you to just let yourself go.  “Please- please I want-” you mumbled choking on your breath while his other hand traveled south, kneading your hip and pressing your leg against himself even harder. “Yes, darling?” he whispered back, pelvis moving at a slow pace, driving you crazy. “Please- I want to feel you inside,” you confessed with a tiny voice before suddenly losing all air in your lungs as he penetrated you in one go, burying himself deep inside, thrusting hard as to make your body shift on the bed sheets back and forth. “Like this, baby?” he asked with a broken voice. “You wanted this? To feel my cock stretch your sweet little pussy like this, huh?”. You tried to hum back but only high moans escaped your mouth as he was pressing so hard into you, isolating his pelvis movements as if hammering, making your toes curl and legs tighten, all of your muscles tensioned and twitching underneath his weight. “My little disobedient princess had the courage to ask for my cock? Now, you’re going to get it” he got up on his knees again, caressing your stomach then sliding down and rubbing your clit with his thumb.  You arched your back, eyes rolling back in your head, hands shifting while trying something to hold onto.  When you lifted your hips so close to coming undone yet again, he descended again, stopping with a deep thrust. Remaining still inside and holding you tight, he wrapped your body with his, squishing your breasts with his hard chest. You whined, clenching around him, so so close, please, you were so close. Against your neck, you heard him breathing heavily and chuckle before leaving wet kissed on your skin. Reaching your lips he thrust in again, pushing you into the mattress, repeating the same movement as before, knocking the air out of your lungs, making you moan as never before. You wanted him to move, you wanted him to continue to hit that sweet spot again and again until you would lose your fucking mind. But you had no force to articulate any words so you just wrapped his neck with your arms and dragged him down in your first kiss, letting your tongue communicate what you couldn’t say, whining and wincing, making him growl as you clenched around his throbbing cock while he let his hips move again until they lost rhythm.

[shewantedtobeasecretgirl]

11. The Lovecats a.k.a an irresistible offer, a guy in proper clothes and a dangerous ginger

In the previous chapters: Effie gives a few pictures taken by her to Krisha who promises to show them to Kelly Curtis but Effie rushes away in the middle of the conversation to avert a date crisis between Judy and Jeff . After Mike’s awkward one-night-stand and the embarrassing intermezzo between Judy and Stone in the shower (that might have been seen by someone else too), the bunch is gathering at breakfast time in a bistro near the motel. Their exchange gets interrupted by Eric who has bad news for them.

 „Guys, we have a problem.”

Ugh… if I was a road manager and the band I’m managing had a show tonight and the lead singer had lost his voice due to his uncontrolled yelling, maybe I’d call it a problem. But I’m a lead singer of a band that is supposed to play a show tonight who lost his voice due to his uncontrolled yelling so I just call it an as fucked-up dumpster fire as possible.

I can barely understand the reactions since everyone in the bunch is desperately shouting at us.

“Has Karrie disappeared?”

“Did Suns defeat Sonics? I knew it!”

“Is the Twelfth Amendment coming into effect again?”

“We’re out of weed?”

Yeah, preferences.

“Hey, everyone, calm the fuck down!” Eric tries to talk them down. “It’s about the show tonight. We… we probably have to cancel it.”

“What? Why? No way!” the cacophony goes on and it only stops when Eric shuts them up with a loud whistle using his fingers.

“Should I explain calm or fuck or down?” he asks annoyed. “The thing is… Ed has lost his voice. He’s not even able to speak.”

“But… how?” Stone stares at us with clueless face. Such a smart guy and such a stupid question.

“He obviously forgot it in a public restroom and by the time he went back, it was already gone. Jesus.” Judy rolls her eyes playing with her fork. Thanks Judy, that’s what I was thinking about, now that you’ve translated it into Sarcasm, Stone might understand too.

“Actually, he accidentally flushed it down the toilet. In case you need to know the exact details to process it, Stoney.” Beth supports her with an audacious grin.

“No problem, we send Jeff down in the canal, I’m sure he’ll find it.”

“I’m able to deal with any shit except yours, Stone.” Jeff retorts, getting a snort from Judy as a reward.

“If I was you, I wouldn’t be so proud of that…”

“Seriously, what happened?” Mike cuts the forming exchange off.

“He was complaining about having a sore throat already yesterday evening too… he was working on a few lyrics but he felt tired and fell asleep relatively early and by this morning… nothing, he can only whisper, I’m afraid…”

“NO!!!” Judy interrupts her and blushes in a second since suddenly, all eyes are fixed on her. “I mean he mustn’t whisper, that’s the worst he can do.”

He? Hey, I lost my voice, not my hearing or my mind.

“It kills vocal cords, which can even lead to neck pains, I’m speaking from experience.”

“Really?” Eric frowns in disbelief.

“He has probably laryngitis. I mean, I’m not sure, he should see an otorhinolaryngologist for an exact diagnose but it’s very likely. It’s mostly viral or bacterial but extreme overburdening doesn’t help either… and extreme overburdening is a pretty euphemistic description for what you’re doing every night, sorry Ed but someone has to finally say it.” she addresses me but my only answer is a helpless shrug. I’m sure I do something wrong but I was procrastinating to face my limits until now and… here’s the result.

“And now she’s already a doctor too. And she completed the medical program in one single night, remarkable.”

“Shut up Stone.” Eric interjects not taking his eyes off of Judy.

“And how long is the regeneration period?” Beth asks, digging her face into my shoulder, which makes me reach for her neck instinctively. She rubs her cheek against my back like a lazy cat as she’s enjoying the improvised massage.

“Well, he shouldn’t speak for a few days but singing is another case, maybe one month…” My hand stops.

“What?” Beth screams right into my ear as her head perks up. Okay, so much for my hearing.

“It depends but usually after a laryngitis, you win back your singing voice note by note, beginning from the nether region.”

“Whoa, Camden, you’re getting naughtier and naughtier…”

“Spirits sometimes help…”

“That’s what I’m telling you all the time!” Mike hits the table with his fist.

“… but it’s only symptomatic treatment, if it’s bacterial, antibiotics are the ultimate solution. And… although I definitely do not support anything that kills throat but I know that singers often get a Calcium shot if they have to perform when having voice problems. So... that would maybe help shorten the silence phase.” Judy explains unwillingly.

“So… let’s summarize what you’re suggesting: we bring Ed to an expert, convince the doctor to give him a Calcium shot and swear he won’t sing for a month… and we cancel the show tonight… and then... we’ll see?” Eric looks at Judy for reassurance.

“Kind of… but I have serious doubts if he can let any note out this week. But are you sure the show must be canceled? I mean, what if someone else sang? Stone? You like singing, don’t you?”

Judy, you have a huge luck that I’m not able to ask publicly why you know about that.

“Jesus, no, I’m not a singer.”

“Aren’t you?” she provokes him raising one eyebrow.

“Nah. Plus, I can’t sing while I’m playing the guitar, I’ve already tried it but every time I try sing, I fuck the riffs up.”

“And he cusses every time he talks. He’d be lynched by the crowd in like ten seconds.” Jeff adds. “Anyway, I’m the other one who sings the backup vocals, maybe I…”

“NO WAY!” everybody protests in unison.

“Okay, okay, it was just an idea…”

“A very bad idea. We would end up playing odes about Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, geez…”

Actually, why would it be that bad? He’s like a childhood hero to me. Plus, Stone wouldn’t be a better choice either, our crowd isn’t prepared for a rock cover of The Lumberjack Song.

“No, we have no other choice.”

“Maybe…”

“I SAID NO WHISPERING!” Judy nips my attempt to join the conversation in the bud. I reach in the chest pocket of my shirt because I think this is the right moment to use my latest invention. Beth immediately gets it and jumps in the middle.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, I’m Beth Liebling, your favorite hostess and when I say favorite, I mean it.” she emphasizes the ongoing pun about the meaning of her last name with exaggerated winks. “Many of us have certainly experienced sore throat when swallowing or coughing is extremely painful and speaking seems to be impossible. The lack of communication makes us feel isolated and if we’re surrounded with sarcastic people, unsolved conflicts may result in anger issues.”

“I’m not angry at all, everything’s fine.” Stone smirks.

“But as always, we offer you a solution to tackle these difficulties and to present this incredible product, I ask my handsome partner, Edward for some help.” she pulls me next to herself by the sleeve of my shirt. I put on my dumbest smile and wait for the cue.

“Interaction cards!” she announces with pretended enthusiasm and glances at me. I lift the deck in my hand to eye level and show it around, still with the tooth-flashing fake smile.

“They make possible to maintain basic communication with the simplest messages.”

I present the first two cards with the words “yes” and “no”.

“Give me the “no”, I’ll buy it.” Stone grabs for it. I should have known.

“They also make us capable of expressing our current feelings.”

I spread out the next cards saying “shit”, “damn”, “fuck” and “I love you”.

“Aww. Give me that one!” Mike reaches out for the latter.

“Some of them declare basic axioms…” I wave with the “Pete Townshend is god” card. “No one? No problem, we’ve still got great stuff for our customers: the combined interaction cards!”

I flip through the deck and pick the “Fuck you Bush/republicans/Nazis/racists/homophobic assholes!” card.

“That’s cute, so heartfelt!” Eric presses his hand against his chest and takes it from me with the other one. I keep searching and giggle in advance when I finally pick the “Fuck you Stone!” card.

“Mine!” Judy and Jeff both almost fall out of the booth and then exchange a grin. Although Jeff was the faster, he places the card onto his palm and kneels down in front of her.

“In token of my appreciation, milady…” he offers it to the girl. To my biggest surprise, her first embarrassment evaporates quickly and she plays along.

“I’m always going to wear it over my heart.” she puts it into the chest pocket of her dungaree dress.

“How cheesy.” Stone comments dropping a piece of Emmentaler from his cheese plate into his mouth.

I nudge Beth to show her the card I made for her when she wasn’t looking. When she reads the “I love you, Beth” text on it, she slowly steps to me, laces her arms around my neck and pulls me into a relaxing, soft kiss. I capture her in a bear hug, letting her bury her head into my chest so that I can kiss the top of it and feel the familiar smell of the shampoo she’s used since I met her…

“Booo, the hostess is fucking the stage prop, disgusting…”

“Look, she’s licking the germs out of his mouth, ew…”

I try to ignore the childish remarks of Mike and Stone, luckily, Eric steers the conversation back to more professional questions.

“I guess I have to make a few phone calls, starting with the club, the guys who bought the ticket should receive refund… and I try to get a doctor for Ed, maybe we should try it in Charlotte, I don’t think we could find a specialist here…” he starts thinking loud, getting lost in the current, messy “to do” list he’s keeping in his pocket.

“„Sssooo… since the show has been canceled, I guess we have tons of time for the guitar lesson you asked for.” Jeff changes the topic with a huge grin, without the slightest intention of hiding his joy. And with the definite intention of using every occasion to spend more time alone with her.

“Guitar lesson? From Jeff?” Stone scoffs. “You know he didn’t become a bassist by chance, don’t you?”

“I must admit Stone’s right. There’s a particular reason for it… This bony asshole can’t hold a bass. We tried it, I swear but he ended up with his face in the concrete. If you take a closer look, you can notice that his Les Paul is only a cardboard replica too. He just pretends to play it, actually, it is Scully who plays his parts behind the amps.”

Judy bursts out in a heartfelt laughter, finally, Jeff has figured out that the way to her heart leads through well-played jokes. Possibly at Stone’s expense.

“I guess we could hang out together even tonight…” Jeff recommends with a cautious squint. That’s it, strike the iron while it’s hot…

“Tonight? But what about the show???”

“What show, Stone? We’ve just decided to cancel it…”

“But the supporting act is Tribe After Tribe! You love them, you’ve wanted to see them playing live since Tom Petty gave you their record! I definitely go and watch them!” Stone pouts like a child whose parents are about to call off the family visit to Disneyland.

“Shit… I mean, that’s true, they’re amazing… maybe you could come too…?”

“Nah, I don’t think so, I could finally sleep through the whole night… but we don’t have to do the soundcheck today, we could have the first lesson instead.”

“Hey Camden, you have a lot to learn, no one said you can skip today’s work!”

“I start with turning your volume down…” Judy retorts and turns immediately back to Jeff. “So, what do you say?”

“Sure… I mean, maybe you end up teaching me. But sooner or later, I have to figure out what I’m doing so…”

They both stand up, and as they are walking towards the exit, they keep talking, leaving the sour-faced Stone behind. I can only guess the reason of the change in her behavior… Jeff Ament, you’d better not mess up your chance.

***

„Granny, stop turning your head all the time! I can also hear you when you’re looking straight ahead. Otherwise I mess up your hair!”

“Effie darling, I’m an old woman, I don’t want to be pretty, I just want shorter hair so that I can comb it easier after hair wash.” she answers, of course she can’t help moving her head this time either.

“Granny! What did I just say? Okay, I accept that you don’t care about your look but I don’t lend my name to anything. Plus, if you keep squirming, I might even cut you. Or myself. Geez, I don’t know what happened to your hair after it had turned grey, it’s like barbed wire, maybe I should try it with a machete…” I mutter as I try to straighten her strands with a comb before I start cutting.

“I’ve told you, you can do anything with it, my body is a rusty, old machine, I can’t lean forward in the bath tub or brush it for hours. You could even shave it, I don’t care.”

“Do you really want to enjoy the Seattle rain on your bald scalp? I doubt it. Did you know that dripping ice cold water on the shaved head of prisoners was a popular way of torment in the Middle Ages? And I don’t think Mr. Taylor would like it either.” I refer to her old neighbor with a sly smile.

“Come on, Effie. Peter and I are both basically fossils.” she waves with an embarrassed, short laughter. We’ve been teasing her with him for years but she always reacts with denial, she belongs to the generation of which members think attraction over a certain age is something inappropriate. Or can’t even exist. And if it still does, it’s better to pretend it doesn’t.

“Single fossils!” I point out.

“I know it’s a very fashionable word nowadays but we are both widows, my dear. That’s completely different.” she insists playing with her wedding ring that embraces her ring finger still perfectly. I could stare at her hands for hours, her elegant fingers with strong, even, oval nails, whereas the backs of her hands and her palms are soft and always warm, Mom is convinced that’s the reason why she can prepare the most delicious homemade pastries in the world. The thin, fine, spiderweb-like wrinkles on them are telling the story of a complicated life, every single day adds a newer chapter to it…

“That doesn’t mean you have to live like a recluse, I don’t know why you’re fighting even against the idea.”

“We’ve just put dear Clara in the grave and…”

“Granny, Mrs. Taylor died like… eight years ago???” I whine clipping together a few strands of her.

“To me, it feels like it had happened yesterday.”

“Because with aging, the perception of time is changing completely. It’s scientifically proven. Mr. Taylor is handsome and kind and however much you try to ignore it, he likes you.”

“Sweetie, the head of girls in your age is full of romantic imaginations but…”

“Don’t even try to project it back on me! He trims the hedge in your front yard and peeps from behind the curtain all the time, just to show up by chance whenever you step out of the house! He basically tears the shopping bags out of your hands every time you arrive home from the grocery store!” I confront her with the facts and begin to trim her hair in the meantime.

“Because he’s a gentleman! Our generation was taught how to be polite!” she explains intensely making me grab her head with both hands and turn it back in the right direction.

“Are you trying to say my generation is rude? Anyway, Mr. Taylor is a retired TV mechanic! He could repair that piece of shit old box you’re not willing to replace whenever it gets fucked up.” I play my ultimate argument knowing she has a soft spot for her favorite series. She was mourning after the last episode of Dallas for weeks.

“Effie, you know I don’t like dirty words! Please!”

“Sorry. He could repair that useless device you’re not willing to replace every time it gets fucked up.” I giggle.

“Effie!”

“Granny, just think into it: you shouldn’t make us record the missed episodes and come over if you want to watch them… you don’t like video cassettes anyway and you said you could never learn how to work a video player…” I purr into her ears trying to sound hypnotical.

“It’s rather you who should have a suitor! You’re such a pretty, young, smart girl, I can’t believe you don’t have a boyfriend.”

Oh no. She turned the tables on me. Clever.

“First of all, being single is not a shame, I won’t expire if I don’t get married before I turn 25. I’m just… not interested in anyone right now.”

And by the way, if you’re not studying, not working, and your so-called friends have forgotten about your existence for the reasons above and gave up inviting you at parties and social events, you don’t even have any possible love interest around. Not that I blame them, my high school classmates are scattered everywhere in the country and after I suspended my studies, I kind of slowly drifted away from the college buddies. We hung out a few times after it but I lost track of everything, I understood fewer and fewer inside jokes, I’m not allowed to drink alcohol, which was obviously no fun to them… damn, I can’t even get rid of my waste products without outside help. So at this point, it’s not that easy to meet guys at all. Let alone normal guys who aren’t slackers, heroin addicts and don’t have commitment issues. I mean, bad guys seem to be exciting until you have one. And I’ve had a few one, I always buy their stupid shit and I’m sick of them. Victor is my only friend who still cares and lets me know about must-see shows at RCKNDY but he’s a friend, we’ve never thought about each other with any hint of romantic feelings at that’s okay. To be honest, I don’t even want to be in a relationship only for the sake of it but I miss that little tingle in the chest and the stomach, at least a teeny-tiny, innocent crush wouldn’t hurt…

“I’m sure you have admirers, just no one meets your expectations, maybe you set the bar too high… Ouch!” she lets out a short scream since I manage to pull her hair involuntarily. The “picky girl” card again… this time, I’m not willing to begin a debate with her about that, I’ve done that several times and she just waved me off every single time.

“I think we should rather discuss Judy’s love life, it’s her who‘s surrounded by handsome boys right now.” I change the subject of the conversation, I know I’m mean and if Judy was here, she’d certainly kill me… but she’s not and the end justifies the means.

“I still can’t imagine her in the company of those men.”

Those men. Granny refuses to call the band members anything else. Okay, on sunny days, she refers to them as “those young men”… but Seattle isn’t famous for the frequency of sunny days, as we know.

“They are nice guys, she likes them. And as far as I know, they like her too…” I rather resist the urge to mention Stone’s aversion to her. “Moreover, I heard through the grapevine that one of them liked her more than the others…”

“A suitor? Sweetie, please bring my bag here, now that you’re mentioning that, I want to ask you something.”

I obey, and walk to the armchair to grab it. Like it was so easy.

“Jesus, Granny, are you keeping bricks in your handbag??? It’s a lethal weapon, if you beat someone in the head with it, you can be put in jail…” I shake my head as I put it on her lap.

“Come on, it’s not that heavy. There are a few things in it a woman can need anytime… “ she starts rummaging in the bag and as I peak into it, I can spot a Swiss Army penknife and a small bottle of tear gas spray. I rather don't ask anything. “I know you’ve shown me pictures of those men, magazine articles, posters but you know I forget everything… So I bought something up-to-date so that you can tell me what I have to know about them, especially if it concerns my granddaughter…” she pulls something colorful out of the mess.

“Steel Hammer magazine? Haha, I can’t believe it! You just went to a kiosk and asked for the latest issue of a metal magazine???” I laugh walking back behind her to pick up the threads again.

“Well… I couldn’t remember the band’s name, I just told to the salesman that my grandchild was working with one of the famous rock bands from our town and I wanted to learn more about them. He just laughed and told me this issue was full of Seattle rock bands and I could certainly find in it what I was looking for.” she flips through the pages. “So tell me again the names of those men, please.” she lifts the magazine and I giggle as I look over her head at it.

“Oh, that’s Alice in Chains, they are also popular but… I don’t think you would approve if Judy worked for them.”

“Why? They do drugs, right? I don’t even want to hear more about that.” Thank God. I don’t think I could tell her much about them without causing her a heart attack. “But they must be them!” she puts a picture in front my nose again.

“You’re getting warmer… but… still not hot. That’s Soundgarden, they are good friends with the guys, they’re even meeting them in a few weeks in Texas, I guess they’re playing a couple of shows together. But they are nice guys too, you don’t have to worry. No drugs, no sex. I mean no sex with strangers. Or other bands’ crew members.” I add before she’d make me run background checks and look into their police records.

“And these men?”

“Whoohoo, you’re hot! That’s them, Pearl Jam!”

“They have nice hair! Actually, all these musicians do. And their eyes are clear, I like that. They seem to be honest young men.” Young men. Maybe if I tell enough nice things about them, she’ll even call them “boys”, or even “guys”. ”Who is who?”

“Eddie, Jeff, Stone, Dave and Mike.” I list pointing at each name on its owner.

“And which of them is courting our Judy?” she inquires excitedly.

“I wouldn’t call it courting yet, all I know he’s already asked her out once but I’m still investigating the details, you know how secretive she can be. Anyway, it’s the bassist, Jeff. The second one from left.” I glance over her head again while I collect another strand with the comb and straighten it to see its length.

“He’s very athletic, he looks healthy, that’s good. A strong man. But those earrings and bracelets… does he always wear them?”

I can hear the frown in her voice.

“I guess so. But that doesn’t make him a bad person, body piercings are very fashionable nowadays. Anyway, he’s a Montanan guy, he’s also an artist, he paints I guess. And you see right, he’s a talented athlete, he plays basketball too and he’s an avid skateboarder. It’s not dangerous!” I add quickly since I’m not sure if skateboarding is old enough to be on Granny’s list of approved spare times activities

“His clothing style is weird, though. His chest is almost bare, he couldn’t be cold but then why was he wearing that hat?”

“Hehe, no one knows, he’s just into hats, that’s his trademark.” I shrug.

“I can’t believe Judy likes him. But that serious one with those sad eyes might be her type.”

“Who?” I wrinkle my forehead since I can’t really pair the description with any of them.

“Him. He dresses normally, that’s a nice shirt, no earrings or other weird jewelry. Does he have a tattoo?”

I glance back at the magazine only to see she’s pointing at Stone.

“Hahaha, oh my gosh, no, as far as I know he doesn’t, but if you ask me, he could even be as spotted as a panther, Judy can’t stand him.”

“But he seems to be a nice boy…”

BOY??? Stone?

“Okay, I admit, he looks good and the crew likes him and he’s super talented but he’s an asshole to Judy.”

“Effie!”

“He is! At first he ignored her and then he started acting like a douchebag and…”

“Effie, dear, you know how boys behave in school… they sometimes literally torture the girl they like… maybe he is just immature.”

“No, Granny, this is…”

Luckily, the stupid debate gets interrupted by the ringing of the phone and I jog to pick it up, maybe it’s Judy…

“Hello, Camdens…”

“Hey, Krisha’s here.”

“Oh… hi…”

“So you haven’t been abducted by aliens. You basically ran away from the office last time without any explanation and I’ve been waiting for your call since then… are you okay?”

“I am… I just… didn’t want to seem too desperate or impatient… I mean, managers are busy people, I thought it’d take some time until Kelly gets to watch my pictures…”

To be honest, I was convinced they’d ditch me with some polite lie like “Nice photos but we are looking for something else” or “We are going to call you later”… so I was just procrastinating facing the truth.

“I tied him to his chair and didn’t set him free, I have my methods… which means, I’ve got news for you.” she announces secretively.

“Effie, sweetie… my hair is still wet, would you give me a towel?”

“Just a second, Granny! Look, I’m busy now but could we meet later somewhere in the city?”

“You mean today?”

“Yes… ah, shit, I have an appointment at the hairdresser’s, but maybe after it…”

“I’m flexible, just tell me the place and the date…”

“Okay, it’s…”

***

When I pull down at the address she gave me on the phone, she’s already waiting for me in front of the building. As I lean over the passenger seat to open the door for her, my eyes are involuntarily drawn to the window decorated with kitschy hearts behind her.

“Love Is In The Hair? Seriously???” I frown. “I’d never let my hair be touched by anyone who’s able to make up such a terrible pun.”

“Oh, don’t be influenced by that, the owner is a hopeless, sentimental old woman but the girls working there are real pros!” she shakes her head as she gets in and buckles herself up. “Meg’s got golden hands, she’s the only one who can keep this haystack under control.” she points at her good smelling, fluffy, blonde strands. “I mean, several people have attempted but she’s the only one who’s succeeded without turning me into Dolly Parton.”

“Well, that’s definitely wouldn’t be a fortunate outcome.” I crack up. “But you got a nice perm, truly.”

“Oh, that’s my hair in its natural state. I had only a haircut, that’s all.”

“I can’t believe that! Aw, I’m so envious, I mean look at this mouse tail…” I flick my thin ponytail with one hand, keeping the other one on the steering wheel. “Unfortunately, my hair can’t recover from what I did to it in the ‘80s…”

“Ouch, well, those were tough times... I’m sure Meg could recommend something… you should give her a try!”

“Maybe… I don’t know, somehow I have a strong aversion to beauty salons, that chicken yard vibe freaks me out.”

“Me too! But this place is not like that at all, that’s the other reason why I became their regular client. Meg studied psychology, she always feels without asking if I want to talk or just listen to her or I just want both of us to… you know, just shut up. She usually has good advice for every situation but not in a pushy way… she rather makes you realize what’s the right thing to do… or just points out if you’re about to make a terrible mistake without explicitly saying it.” she chuckles. “I don’t know, it’s like a sixth sense thing, she’s gifted.”

“So she’s a beauty wizard and a guru in one person.” I summarize.

“Haha, exactly. She’s simply a cool chick but for some reason, she has such a bad luck with guys, I don’t know the exact details, only that a problematic guitarist broke her heart.”

“Ha, that invasive species has kinda conquered this town…” I mutter knowingly.

“Speaking of that, do you know anything about Judy and Jeff? I ran away last time since I felt a disaster coming… she wasn’t even aware she’d been asked out… and since then, we’ve barely talked and she ignored the question when I came up with that…”

“Ugh, to be honest, I don’t know, I talked to Eric about work stuff, we’re busily preparing that free open-air show in May…” I stop since I’m not sure if I should go on. “Of course I talked to Stone as well…” I finally decide to do so but I pretend to be distracted by the traffic in the junction to have an excuse for not finishing the sentence.

“I bet he trashed my sister again, didn’t he?” she unfortunately jumps on the topic without hesitation.

“No… not really… I mean, he’s disapproving about anything romantic between them for sure but not because of Judy as a person… he just doesn’t think it’s a healthy thing right now. But he was obscure, I didn’t even understand what he was trying to say, he was babbling something about deflowering and cabal… he’s showing off his vocabulary all the time, even if it makes no sense. Especially when he’s high, maybe that was the case.”

“Deflowering? You mean my sister?” she scoffs and I can’t do anything but shrug since Stoney was truly vague, almost secretive. “The dude’s got obviously a screw loose.” she underlines the statement by circling with her index finger at the temple. “Anyway, why are you turning in that direction, aren’t we going to the management office?”

“I never claimed we’re going there.” I watch the road with a mysterious smile. “Actually, I realized after having called you that I had an errand to run so I thought you could accompany me…”

“By accompanying you mean kidnapping me and holding me hostage in your car?”

“Maybe. Open the glove compartment, I put there something for you.”

“Now you’re scaring me, is it a gun? Whoa.” she startles since after she obeys me, tons of tapes fall onto her lap.

“Ah, I get it. You’re holding me hostage and make me listen to shitty music, what are these? Tapes of Wham! tribute bands or what?” she asks checking the cases.

“Okay, you just gave me a great idea. The tapes weren’t intended for you, they are demos of bands monkeying PJ, we receive a buttload of them every week. Needless to say they all suck, could you do me a favor by listening to them for me? Kelly insists on me checking all of them, I don’t know why, though, we usually send them a polite refusal… but he thinks they deserve a chance. 99 % percent of them are indistinct yelling to worn-out riffs. What about my constitutional rights?”

“Haha, are you serious? I mean, I don’t really have any proper excuse, I have plenty of time and unfortunately, fucked-up kidneys don’t clog ears but…”

“Just kidding, I meant the folded sheets, maybe they are buried deep, just dig for them.”

“Okay, got it” she groans basically putting her head in the glovebox. “What’s that? Mr. Hugh Mility… Mr. Juan Badapple… Jim Rockford... Dr. Hugh Jeego… Guy Jantic… what the hell is this?”

“Well, since the guys are getting huge, fans are lurking at the hotels, they make up impossible lies to get their room numbers, a few of them even tried to bribe the receptionists… so it became obvious they should use codenames…”

“And who is who?”

“You missed the point, should I maybe explain the concept of codenames? What if you start stalking or harassing them?” I tease her and maybe I’m hallucinating but I’d swear I see an amused smile forming in the corner of her mouth. “Anyway, joke aside, they are pretty obvious, just think a little.”

“Wait, the list goes on… these must be the crew members… Elle Koholic, okay, this must be Carrie. Oh my god, I found my sister’s one.” she slaps herself in the forehead.

“Yeah, no offense but she’s got a one-track mind… anyway, we’ve arrived.” I announce steering the car right to the empty site next to the building.

“Are you willing to finally reveal where we are?” she asks stuffing the tapes back into their place.

“Curiosity killed the cat. Okay, I hope not, Stone would kill me.” I laugh at my own joke, fishing out the shopping bag from the backseat. “Come.”

“I don’t understand a word.” she pouts indignantly while we’re entering the building and climbing the stairs in the semi-darkness.

“I enlighten you very soon, I promise, just follow me.” I turn back to her and we fell silent until we reach our destination. “Here.” I point theatrically at the door.

“What’s this? Are you gonna buy drugs here? Or is this sort of a den of gamblers? Or…”

“Jesus, I thought you’re the adventurous one…” I roll my eyes. “Anyway, you mentioned the species of problematic guitarists… where we’re standing is the cave of a specimen from one of the subspecies.”

“…which iiiis…”

“One of the most complex inhabitant of Earth’s fauna: the rhythm guitarist!” I raise my index finger. “It’s very widespread at bars and concert venues, the male ones are inseparable from their favorite delicacy that is beer. The male living here is famous for his trademark, sarcastic remarks that are not without jokes about nether regions. During his mating season – that includes every single day of the year –, he tries to catch the attention of female specimens with the excessive flipping of his magnificent mane and his repetitive, distinctive laughter. He often leaves the location of mating right after the act, his volatile nature…”

“Wait, are you trying to say…” she cuts me off, getting tired of my improvised presentation.

“Yess.”

“No shit!”

“Yes shit. We’re at Stone’s apartment. Okay, it actually belongs to his sister but she moved in with her boyfriend last year. And Stoney got a gentle reminder from his parents that he should finally leave the family nest.”

“Hey, then maybe me and Judy are super uncool since we live with our mom too…” she frowns offended.

“It’s all about the context, first of all: he turned down Chris Cornell when he asked him to be his roommate. I repeat, Chris Cornell.” I explain, as I begin to fumble with the keys.

“What a fool!”

“I mean, I kind of understand him to a point, his parents are the dearest people I know but turning down such an offer when you’re over 20? Time went by and I think his parents just got fed of him tearing the strings at their attic all the time and coming home in the middle of the night every single day. Even if they have always been totally supportive of him, they didn’t freak out even when he announced he didn’t want to go to college… he started working as an espresso guy in a small bakery at Pioneer Square, he was the worst, by the way, I mean I almost puked of the coffee he made… He quitted that job when Mother Love Bone got signed to PolyGram and… you know what happened later. So he kind of stuck at home, indebted.”

We enter the apartment in the meantime and I take a few steps in the living room to turn on the standard lamp.

“But then, not much before the tour started, his sister let him her place over, he’s a low-key guy so…” I shrug. “Now that they became basically rock stars, he’s planning to buy a small house… his dad is an attorney-at-law with acquaintances at real estate firms, that helps a lot.”

“We had to sold our house when… a few years ago.” she sighs. I don’t ask, I guess it has to do something with her father, Karrie mentioned he’d died a few years ago. “This is a pretty nice place, I thought it was messier. No piles of beer cans, no smell of rotten food…” she remarks walking around the living room.

“Despite your impressions, he’s not a caveman, he always jokes referring to himself as an emancipated guy meaning he can and is willing to do all kind of housework. He can be pretty oblivious, though, which sometimes affects the result…” I giggle and open the windows to let in some fresh air. “His brain works in a weird way, he loses everything, all the time and forgets where he put his personal belongings and therefore never finds them again… whereas he’s pretty good at remembering riffs and melodies.”

“So this place is like a black hole. Anyway, why are we here? Wait, are we going to pull pranks on him? Let’s stick pins in the armchairs, smear tooth paste on the door handles and hide dog poop under the doormat…” she suggests with stars in her eyes. Okay, I have to do something against this hatred campaign before these wicked women cast a lethal spell on him.

“As I mentioned, I have a mission. First of all, I have to keep those poor things alive…” I point in the corner.

“Wow, a private jungle!” she exclaims surprised. “Philodendron, ficus and mother-in-law’s tongue! If someone had told me Stone liked indoor plants, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

“Actually, he sometimes forgets about their existence too. But they are real survivors, they even made it despite his girlfriend’s interesting watering methods… by the way, he even gave them names: Phil Collins, Biggus Diccus and Robert Plant, I guess I don’t have to explain…” I go on with the guided tour while I go in the kitchen to fill the coffee jug with water.

“At least the guy has a good taste in music.” she shouts. She must have found his record collection and the stereo system, I guess if something, this can soften Effie up.

“Yes, he’s surprisingly omnivorous as for musical genres…” I call back although my voice sounds muffled, since I had to basically crawl into the cupboard at the bottom for the bag of the pet food. “He’s pretty much influenced by everything he hears on the radio. Ouch!!!” I manage to bang my head when I straighten up too early.

“Are you okay?”

“I am… just a household accident…”

I walk back to the bedroom with the small bowl full of dry food only to find her staring amazed at the large star chart on the wall.

“Wow. My sister would love this.” she keeps examining it with dropped jaw, only her lips are moving.

“Well, I’ve always known they have much more in common than they think.” I grin.

“Judy had a pretty long phase when she wanted to be an astronomer… I mean, basically her in her whole childhood. She later found out physics and science weren’t really her thing but she’s still obsessed with space exploration and science fictions…”

“As you can see, Stone isn’t that beer-drinking, douchebag barfly type…” I spread my arms to point out that the walls are almost covered with bookshelves.

“Yeah, as far as I can see, he’s pretty much an intellectual asshole.” she narrows her eyes.

“AND NOW… let’s jump to the second part of my mission.” I kneel down and lift the bedspread. “Your Majesty, your subjects are only waiting for you to begin the audience.” After a few seconds of silence, two reddish paws reach out from under the bed, soon followed by a pink nose. Their owner makes sure there’s nothing dangerous in the room in full alert mode, before she crawls out slowly and rubs her snout against my hand reached out.

“Oh my god! A cat! Was she here during the whole time?” Effie screams surprised, sits down cross legged and invites her to herself making smacking sounds. “Hey sweetie… you’re very shy, aren’t you? Come here…come…”

“Effie, let me introduce you Red. Red, this is Effie. Be cautious… she can behave quite wild, especially with women…”

Despite my fears, she slowly moves towards Effie and sniffs her fingertips. After a few seconds of tense hesitation, she lets herself be caressed with that typical vigilance of cats like she was sending the message “I’m here but if you make a wrong move, you die”.

“What a beautiful fur… and those green eyes…” the girl runs her finger along the red-white spotted back. “She seems to like me…” the girl chuckles.

“One more proof that Stone’s theory was right.”

“What kind of theory?”

“Well… he adopted her not much after the forming of the band… she was just a tiny, fluffy kitten but from the very first moment, she’s acted very weird with the girls around Stone. And I don’t mean girls in general, I’m talking about his female visitors, if you know what I mean… she’s been very hostile to girls he’s dated, she’s basically driven away all the chicks he’s got hooked up with… She’s literally jealous of his love interests.”

“Interesting, I’d rather think Stone is a dog person…”

“He is, his family has always had dogs… but with Red… it was love at first sight. I’ve never seen him being as affectionate to actual girls as to Red. Even his voice softens when he’s talking to or about her… so long story short, Stone was joking that they must have been lovers in a previous life and she had been some red-haired girl who’d stolen his heart.”

“And does she like girls who hate him because they mean no competition for her?” Effie wonders as she follows the cat with her eyes who’s now approaching her bowl and gets lost in the deliciously looking pieces of meat. “It’d be an interesting experiment to introduce her to Judy.”

“Definitely, she’s never met a real female enemy of him. Maybe because girls usually like him…” I shrug.

“And is this poor thing the whole day alone?”

“Ugh, it’s a complicated story. When the guys started touring, the Gossards adopted her. Again. But they have to get rid of her, because they all are allergic to cat fur, it wasn’t that disturbing when Stone was at home too and she basically lived in the attic with him and he was the only one really taking care of her… but when he was away and they had do it for him, they quickly had to look for someone else… and then, she got to Regan, our common old friend. They got on very well with each other but then Regan and his girlfriend adopted a dog and to say they weren’t compatible is an understatement. And then…” I took a big breath “…then came the Amber phase. I don’t know if I’ve already mentioned her, she’s his girlfriend.”

“Ouch.” she hisses. “That must have been tough.”

“It was. Due to the beforementioned circumstances, their relationship was everything but smooth… she never adopted her, she just came over to feed her and all but Red was trying very hard to make her life a living hell. She attacked her, scratched her arms, hooked her nails in her tights and ruined her nicest clothes…” I list and I can’t help smiling as I recall their clashes.

“I can’t believe this cutie pie did things like that. It sounds terrible but… hey, are you laughing???”

“It was a dis… a disaster…” I’m already choking of laughter since in the meantime, Red’s innocent face makes me remember the funniest part of the story. “Once she even… oh no, I can’t…” I try to calm down and put on straight face. “Once this little bitch…” Red turns her head towards me like she felt addressed “yes, I’m talking about you… so this little bastard peed in Amber’s heels.”

“Oh no! Cat pee is the worst, it’s a one-way ticket to the dumpster. I mean only if you don’t set everything that got in contact with it on fire.”

“Well, that happened to the heels in question too. But frankly, I don’t blame Red, I myself have played with the idea of doing the same a few times too.” I shrug and have Effie in stitches.

“So you hate her too…”

“I don’t, she’s not a bad person… but she can be so annoying, man… when you have to admire the umpteenth fashion photo of her posing in different clothes, it’s very difficult to seem to be interested.”

“Uhm… speaking of photos… you said you got news for me… I didn’t want to be too greedy, I mean I really like hanging out with you and I’m not doing it only because I want your help and…” she jabbers blushing.

“Hey, easy. The news are that Kelly loved your photos. And Susan Silver too. And they have a great idea…”

[losvcr]

all i want (reddie)

Summary: Eddie is dying. He knows he’s dying. He can’t die without telling Richie the truth. If it’s the very last thing he does, Eddie will make sure that Richie knows how he feels about him.

Pairing: Reddie

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: a homophobic slur, cussing, near death

A/N: y’all are probably gonna see a shit ton of these fics around bc we’re dramatic hoes who need to see our boy live and get the ending that he deserves. this is not beta’d, but the spirit hit me and i had to write it. hope y’all enjoy!

AO3 link: here

“I fucked your mom..”

Eddie let out a choked laugh before rather quickly easing off of it, not enjoying the extra dose of pain his body received from moving even a little bit. At least the severe pain he’d been feeling was starting to numb.

Fuck. That’s not what I meant to say.

There was so much he wanted to say.

Eddie had pondered death before. Who didn’t? He had faced it several times, in fact. But it was real, now. Eddie knew that he was dying. He was running out of time.

There was still so much he had to say.

Eddie could hear them talking. He watched them make a run for it so that they could continue the fight. But not Richie. Richie stayed right next to him. Richie.

Richie.

A small smile came onto Eddie’s face as he gripped Richie’s jacket tightly, not even remotely thinking about ever letting go of it. “..h-hey, Rich...?”

“Shh.. save your energy, Eddie. I’m getting you out of here as soon as I can. But until then, shut the hell up.” Richie whispered as he held onto Eddie tightly, and Eddie watched as Richie’s eyes flickered back and forth between him and the horror that their friends were trying to overcome.

Eddie loved that about Richie. That trashmouth idiot might always talk a lot of shit, but he cared. He cared about them. Richie cared about him.

For so long, Eddie had tried to deny it. Even when he left and his memories became repressed, Eddie had always known that something had been missing. He’d known that his marriage with Myra was safe, but it wasn’t what he wanted.

Coming back home and seeing that goofy grin and huge bifocals made him remember.

Now he was at death’s door and Eddie knew it was now or never. If he didn’t say it now, he would never get the chance to. He had already lost that opportunity once.

“R-Richie...”

“No.” Eddie stared over the side of Richie’s face in confusion, shakily reaching one of his hands up to cup Richie’s cheek that was wet. Richie was crying. “You’re not leaving me, alright? Whatever you have to say, just don’t. You can tell me once we get out of here.”

There was something in Richie’s tone. It took Eddie a second, but he was quick to pick up on it. It was desperation. Richie was scared. Richie didn’t want to face what was happening.

Eddie could feel his vision fading in and out, just wanting to close his eyes. But they were almost there. Eddie could feel it.

He also had something to say before that. He had to say it.

“Richie--” He could see Richie gearing up to interrupt him again, a fire in his eyes, but Eddie rushed to get it out before that could happen. “I love you..”

He watched as Richie froze momentarily, any berating dying in his throat. Eddie didn’t care what happened after this. He just needed Richie to know the truth before he left the world. If he died, if they all died, he just wanted Richie to know how he really felt about him. His best friend. The boy who made terrible mom jokes and baited Eddie like no other. The boy who never shut up but made him laugh all the time. The boy who didn’t want to share the hammock when his ten minutes was up.

Now they were adults, but Eddie didn’t feel any differently. Richie was the same person he had loved all that time ago.

“H-hey, what’d I tell you? No more bombshells until I get you out of here. Give a guy a ch-chance to stop shitting his pants before--” Richie choked up, unable to finish, but all Eddie could do was smile fondly at him―the same person he’d fell in love with.

Eddie’s eyes fluttered closed, his thumb softly stroking over the flesh of Richie’s cheek and feeling hot tears continuously flowing. “Please open your eyes, Eds. We--we’re almost there. You have to wait for me to say it back.”

"Don’t... call me Eds...” He barely got out through a chuckled whisper. Eddie couldn’t hold on any longer. He felt drained and he just wanted to sleep. So he did.

---

Lights. That was the first thing. Lights.

Then there was noise. It sounded muffled, but it was there. The muffling noises slowly began to turn into ringing, and then the ringing shifted into voices.

After that? That was when sensation started to return. There was a tingling sensation in both his arms and legs and Eddie felt like it was impossible to move. Along with that, it felt like his whole entire chest was burning and he wanted that to stop. Except, it was as if he were in a fog; A half-sleep, half-awake state.

But then there was a gasp that made his muscles twitch with a jolt of fear. That had been much louder than the voices he heard in the background. It wasn’t until he heard a familiar voice practically screaming for a doctor that Eddie realized something.

He wasn’t dead.

Blearily, Eddie began to blink his eyes open slowly and drowsily, everything a blur to his vision. He wasn’t all the way there yet. All he knew was that he wasn’t dead and that Richie was there.

That was enough comfort for Eddie to give in to the wave of exhaustion that kept trying to pull him back under.

---

This second time around was a lot more unpleasant.

Where before he had been slowly trying to adjust to becoming conscious once again, this time had no compulsion or the sympathy to make his awakening less harsh.

Eddie could feel something in his mouth and throat that was making it difficult to breathe and immediately, he reached his left arm up to try and pull out the offending device, eyes still closed and the action more subconscious than anything else.

But a hand grabbed onto his and stopped him, easily lowering his hand back down to the bed. “Hey, relax. Open your eyes, Eds.”

That voice.

It was like that was all he needed and after blinking a few times, Eddie was finally seeing.

There Richie was, sitting right on the bed next to him and looking like he hadn’t seen a shower in weeks.

Eddie tried to grumble something, but the tube prevented him from speaking and again, he attempted to reach up to dislodge it, but Richie was still holding onto his hand and keeping him from doing so.

“Someone is coming right now.” He heard a female’s voice and turned his head slowly to see Beverly standing at the door, her arms crossed over her chest and a look of relief on her face.

Now that he was starting to come to even more, he could see that the others were there too, every pair of eyes trained on him. It didn’t take Eddie long to figure out they were at the hospital, but now he had to recall how he got there in the first place.

It.

Eddie could feel a small dread building up in his stomach, and it was like that reaction was enough to remind him of the fact that he was injured, feeling a pang in his lower shoulder that started to throb the faster his heart began to beat.

“Eddie, breathe.” His eyes flickered right back over to Richie again, watching tears stream down Richie’s face. “It’s okay. You’re okay. We did it.”

We did it.

Before he could even try to process it, they weren’t alone anymore.

Hours later, after the assisting tube removal, multiple test, and pain-killer induced sleeping, Eddie was finally coming to. This time, he was alert.

He looked around the dark hospital room and his friends were no longer there, but there was one person there in the chair besides his bed, body draped over and face pushed into Eddie’s bed.

A fond smile came onto Eddie’s lips and his hand moved to rest against the top of Richie’s head, gently running fingers through his hair. There was so many questions Eddie had, but he didn’t think he could voice any of them. He was just so relieved. He was relieved that he wasn’t dead; Relieved that he saw the others were okay; Relieved that Richie was here.

It was foggy, but Eddie remembered. He remembered entering Neibolt. He remembered going to the well. He remembered entering its lair deep in the ground. He remembered the horror and he remembered saving Richie, only to feel the worst pain he had ever felt in his lower right shoulder―it felt like he had completely lost that part of his torso.

Eddie’s gaze hesitantly drifted over to his right side and he saw a huge white bandage running down his arm, a sling holding it up. The discomfort he felt throbbing there, pain muted by the opioids, let him know that he hadn’t lost that side like he had been so sure he had.

Swallowing hard, he turned to look back at Richie and felt a shock run through his system when his eyes met with a pair of gorgeous blue ones.

“You’re awake.” They both said at the same time.

Richie snorted and started to sit up, and Eddie placed his now-free hand into the bedding, pushing so that he could sit up as well. He winced at the wave of pain the sudden movement created, hissing low.

“Hey, take it easy.” Richie said, his tone laced with concern as he stood and helped Eddie to sit up against propped-up pillows. Eddie threw Richie a fleeting, but thankful smile as he settled again. “You’re acting like you didn’t get skewered by a demonic spider clown.”

Eddie glared at Richie playfully, but his expression immediately softened when he looked over Richie again. Richie looked like he hadn’t slept in days and despite the joking, he could tell that his best friend was still shaken up.

“It’s okay, Rich.. we did it, right..?” Eddie’s voice was a little rough and quiet from disuse, but he knew that Richie could hear him.

Richie let out a soft sigh as he sat on the edge of Eddie’s bed, and Eddie couldn’t help the warmth that shot up his spine when Richie was grabbing onto his hand. “Yeah, we.. it’s dead. For good, I think.”

Thank fuck.

Silence soon settled between them and Eddie suddenly remembered his confession just before he caved into unconsciousness, causing a bright red blush to take over his face and for the hand Richie was still holding onto to feel like it was on fire.

He should probably say something.

“Rich--”

Eddie stopped short when he heard a quiet sniffle, and his gaze lifted from their hands to look at Richie who was crying again. He could feel his heart break a little at the sight, confused as to why Richie was crying if it was finally over.

He didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

“Don’t do that to me again.” It was whispered, but Eddie could hear a pin drop in the silence of the room. It was like the air was vacuumed so that he and Richie could talk without any interruption or overhearing. “You... you didn’t wait for me to say that I love you too.”

Eddie could feel his face becoming hot again, the heat rushing through his body and making him shudder involuntarily as tears began to develop in his eyes. Richie loved him too. “Richie...”

“No, Eddie. They thought you died, that you would die if you weren’t already dead, but I didn’t care. We carried you because I knew.. I didn’t know, but I just didn’t fucking care. I needed you to be okay and for fucks sake, if you weren’t, I wasn’t gonna leave you down there. Eddie, just let me―I have always been in love with you, okay? Ever since we were stupid fucking teenagers. I wanted to tell you back then. I did. But.. I was so fucking scared. I couldn’t lose you. I would rather have you in my life than not at all. We all know how they treated fags, right? I should have known you would never be like that.”

There was an intensity in Richie’s voice that had Eddie in awe, unable to blink or speak. Richie had loved him this entire time? “Even... even when I forgot, there was always something missing. Not just our childhoods or friendships or family, but you, Eddie. I might not have been able to name it, but fuck, it’s always been you, Eddie.”

Richie’s voice grew weak, probably from trying not to sob, and Eddie knew he needed a moment. Gently, he broke his hand from Richie’s grasp and moved it to cup Richie’s cheek instead, giving him a watery smile as tears silently streamed down Eddie’s face as well.

“You know, Richie.. I would watch your comedy specials sometimes. I.. of course, I couldn’t remember you. But I would always laugh. I would sit there thinking ‘god, this idiot reminds me of someone who I grew up with’. I was always on the cusp. Always so fucking wistful whenever I watched those specials.

“S-so... y’know.. you weren’t the only one missing something. It took me coming back here to realize that I married someone who was exactly like my mom.” Eddie made a face of distaste, gently slapping at Richie’s shoulder when he laughed at the revelation. “Fuck off, alright? It’s fucked up, I know. But Myra was safety, Rich. I.. I didn’t have to think about the way I felt about other men when I had her constantly reminding me that I had to be good.

“I thought I was gonna die down there, Richie. I knew that if I died, if we all died, that I needed you to know the truth of how I felt about you. You made me feel like it was okay to be myself. You.. you just make me feel okay, Richie―”

Eddie cut off short when he suddenly felt a warm pair of lips pressing to his and he was already melting, eyes wide and body shaking from it.

It was too quick. The kiss was only for a moment and Eddie couldn’t stop the soft whine he let out when Richie pulled away before he could kiss him back.

His hand shot up, fingers brushing over his lips as he stared at Richie shyly with a bright red blush on his face. It definitely made him feel better to see Richie’s ears flushed just as brightly, looking as if he would freak out at any second.

Eddie couldn’t let that happen, could he?

Thankfully, Richie hadn’t gone too far and Eddie was able to lean in and close the space between their lips again, kissing Richie with a tenderness he hadn’t realized he was capable of. Once he felt Richie relax and kiss him back, his hand moved to the back of Richie’s neck, allowing their connection to continue for a little while longer.

When they pulled away this time, they both were a little breathless and Eddie couldn’t help the smile that found his face when he saw Richie grinning at him.

“I’m not letting you go this time. I swear it.” Richie promised. Eddie’s eyelashes fluttered when he felt Richie cup his cheeks and he sighed quietly when Richie pressed a small peck to his lips.

“Good. I don’t want you to. Now, tell me where the others went and how you were able to stay.” Eddie demanded as he relaxed back into the pillows, and Richie grinned sheepishly at Eddie after dropping his hands.

“I might have lied and told them that I was your husband.”

“Richie, what?! What the hell were you thinking? You know that they can figure out if that shit isn’t true, right?”

“Oh, relax, spaghetti. I had to find a way fucking somehow, didn’t I? S’not like it won’t be true in the future.”

Eddie could feel his heart squeeze hard in his chest and he knew that he was fucked in the best way possible. He would have to deal with Richie ‘the trashmouth’ Tozier for the rest of his life, now.

He was okay with that.

---

“Richie, I thought we were meeting with the others one last time.”

Eddie huffed out as he followed Richie across the bridge, wishing he could take his itchy cast off. He had broken in his arm in several places and apparently had been lucky that his arm wasn’t gone, or better yet, that he wasn’t dead. Eddie knew that he had almost died a few times, but he liked to believe that he had held out for his friends. For Richie.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.. Look, I just have one thing to show you, and then we’ll go. Calm that cute ass of yours down.” Richie winked, and Eddie rolled his eyes playfully at his boyfriend.

“You’re the worst.” He mumbled out as they finally seemed to walk up to what Richie wanted him to see. “What’s this? Oh god, Richie, did you really just take me to this damn―“

Eddie stopped short when he saw what Richie had crouched down in front of, and he was soon walking in closer and bending down to see if he hadn’t been imagining it.

‘R +’

Was that...?

Eddie could feel tears springing into his eyes when Richie held out a pocket knife to him, his gaze warm and excited. “I.. I started it a long time ago. I.. was hoping you would finish it.”

The breath was knocked out of Eddie and he let out a choked laugh before he carefully grabbed the knife and started to kneel, helped down by Richie.

‘R + E’

The E was faded, but it was there. He had never doubted that Richie meant it when he said he had feelings for Eddie back then, but Eddie didn’t know he had done this. So many times, he walked past this bridge without thinking twice about it, and this secret had been etched there for years for only the two of them.

Eddie glanced over at Richie with nothing but love and fondness in his teary eyes, and then he got to work with his left hand. It was a little shaky because it wasn’t his dominant hand (and also because he was trying not to cry - god, Richie was such a sap), but the job got done and Eddie could feel his chest tightening. It was completed.

He thanked Richie quietly once he was helped back onto his feet, and once the pocketknife was put away, Eddie was quick to grab Richie’s hand. “Okay, loverboy. We’re etched into this bridge forever. How about we go say goodbye before we go home?”

There was no way he was going anywhere that Richie wasn’t. California had just as many people who needed limo services and it was about time that he expanded his business anyway.

When instead of a verbal answer, he got a kiss, Eddie’s eyes fluttered closed and he pressed into it, feeling a happiness he couldn’t describe.

“Yeah, guess we can go say goodbye to those fucking losers.” Richie smiled, starting to lead Eddie back the way they’d come.

Everything would be okay. They were all okay. It was over. They had defeated It, and now, they all had each other again.

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 53

~*~Sebastian~*~

That right there is exactly what I mean. We're talking about all the ways I've fucked up relationships. By all rights, she should have questions about how I'm going to do better. Why she should trust me and why she's scared I’ll fuck this up too. But her only question is what's different. And her response to my answer is to say she's sorry someone before her didn't ask what I needed. That's why I don't shut down and why I’m not scared. I don't have to protect myself from her, she cares about me separate from her and separate from us.

I pulled her onto my lap because this had been an intense conversation. I needed the physical part to ground me. I needed to be close, to feel her. Something tangible to complete the connection. Not sex. Not yet anyway. We're not done talking. Sex doesn't solve anything. It distracts and covers up. Learned that one the hard way.

Once Emma was settled, I brushed her hair over her shoulders and put my hands on her face. I felt her hands on my ribs. Her warmth soaking through my shirt to spread over my skin. I looked at her for long seconds, knowing what I held in my hands was precious. Keeping myself in check, I pressed my mouth to hers. Instantly I felt the amazing mix of relaxation and excitement. Her lips fell open and she slowly licked across my upper lip. I smiled before joining in. I moved my hands to her back, holding her gently.

I don't know how long we stayed like that. Kisses and caresses stayed soft. We were just enjoying each other. I put my hands under her arms, lifting her and putting her back on the couch. I wrapped my fingers around hers, "You know the me my friends know. Well, you know several things they don't."

She smirked, "I get the idea."

"We're going to fight. We're going to annoy each other. We'll probably unintentionally hurt each other. Not shutting down is going to be new for me, but we'll figure it out."

"Sounds good." Emma leaned forward and kissed me. "You gonna tell me what you all talked about while we were in the other room?”

This is what I meant last night when I locked my mouth and thought about giving her the key. "I have a dilemma. We were all drunk. Eli might have said some things he shouldn't have. He’s your best friend. I don't want you mad at him or him mad at me for what he said.”  She started to say something and I held up my finger for her to wait. "But, if you want to know, if you ask, I’m going to tell you. My loyalty is to you."

I watched her think, but I knew what she was going to decide. "I want to know."

"I knew you would. I would. Here's the thing. He was trying to protect you. Will asked how your family knew Ed. I didn't know and Eli said he didn't want me to ask you. I think he wanted me to know enough to understand I shouldn't push."

"You wouldn't."

"He doesn't know me well enough to know I wouldn’t. I have no business poking around anyone else's painful memories. I have my own. I get to decide who, what, and when I talk about shit. So do you."

"Now I’m really worried.

"No need." I kissed her hand and held it against my chest. Nothing he'd said bothered me, except I knew it would stir up shit for her. I didn't want her to feel those memories. "He said Amy was addicted to heroin, but you never did more than coke." I pointed to myself and waved my hand, "We'll talk about our cocaine years another time." I liked her smile. "Both of you were sent to rehab. You got home first and were doing good until Amy got home. She was mad because you were doing better than she was. You needed different things, so you went to Seattle. He's a little angry at your parents for that." I was pretty sure she knew. Eli doesn't strike me as being able to bite his tongue. "Then there was a lot of really sweet stuff about Ed not signing guardianship back over, doing all the college shit, coming to games, offering to buy you a place so you didn’t have to go back to Georgia, and when Ed says you’re his daughter he means it. Eli did point out Jimmy is still alive, so I'm less worried Ed's going to kill me for sleeping with you." I left out the part about the money because talking about money is crass.

Emma took a minute to process, "I’m not mad at Eli. I'd already told you most and I get what he was going for. He's always been mad at my parents for choosing Amy. Here's the thing. I was doing better than Amy, but I wasn’t ok. I didn't want to party with my friends because they treated me differently and asked too many questions. My boyfriend broke up with me because a girlfriend fresh out of rehab didn't look good to college admissions counselors. I was going to be on probation for volleyball with weekly drug tests. But at least I wasn't addicted to heroin." Her last sentence was dripping with sarcasm.

I wanted to clarify, "So everything you were dealing with was less because at least you weren’t addicted to heroin."

She touched her finger to her nose, "Exactly. It wasn’t just others, I did it to myself too. My parents didn't know what to do with us. I yelled and screamed how we didn't need to be together, how it was bad for both of us. They either couldn’t or wouldn't figure out what to do. I could. I called Ed, ready to beg him to get me out of there. I knew I was asking a lot. Olivia was four and Jill was pregnant. The last thing they needed was a troubled teenager. Luckily, Ed was a much more troubled teenager and up for the challenge. I wasn't any trouble though. I followed my rules and loved doing all the family things. I never had to be asked to help. Especially with the girls. Ed understood me and could listen without all the parental guilt and trying to defend or explain Amy. Volleyball was already underway and he fought for me. I don't know what he did or how he did it, but they let me try out and play."  She paused and I could tell she was fighting not to cry. "He was there for me when no one else was. He jumped my shit when I needed, made me laugh, and he'd hold me when I cried. He took care of me and loved me like I was his."

Tears fell down her cheeks. She didn't make a move to wipe them away. Her tears didn't bother her. They bothered me. I felt every one. I wiped the wet streaks and was relieved when there were no more.

"As horrible as that summer was, I wouldn't change a thing if it meant I lost the relationship I have with them."

I have a sick feeling in my stomach about the details making the summer horrible. Part of me wants to know. Part of me doesn't. I’m glad it's not my decision. I moved her hand from my chest to my mouth, "He loves you like you’re his. And you give that back. That's pretty special."

Emma nodded and dropped her forehead to my shoulder. I held her hand back to my chest and kissed the top of her head. Her shoulders started to shake. I wasn't sure if she was crying or laughing. I moved my head to look and she sat up. Laughing. Whew.

"Another good thing." She cringed, but with a smile. "Before rehab, I was not a very nice person."

I shook my head, "I don’t believe you."

Emma nodded, "I was a spoiled entitled little bitch. I was smart, so school was easy. I was a good athlete, so teachers let things slide. My parents had money, so I never wanted for anything. I was pretty, and that always helps in high school. I wasn't actively mean to people. It was more if I didn't know you, you were insignificant at best, invisible at worst. I lacked empathy and humility."

"Nope." I shook my head, "I don't know this person if you're talking about." She doesn't know the emotionally unavailable me and I don't know the bitch version of her.

She shrugged, "Adversity builds character. In rehab, I met many people with many different stories and learned we were not different. Smart, pretty, and money didn't protect me or Amy. So many times one bad decision spirals out of control. I wasn't big on talking in group. I just listened. I listened to stories and saw emotions. I didn’t pick apart how their stories weren't me and focused on how they were. I changed and through watching others I figured out who I wanted to be." She looked at me with raised eyebrows, "Does that make any sense?"

"I think so."

"I looked up to the others who were kind and supportive of others. They were both better for the interaction. I learned humility because I'd been knocked off my pedestal. I had to learn to advocate for what I wanted with actual reasons that didn’t include pretty, athlete, who could spend her parent’s money. Since I didn't talk a lot Trevor loaded me down with books to read. Smart worked here because I could understand and take what I needed to rebuild me. Eventually, I started talking in group. Not necessarily me needing time to talk, but helping others. I was good at explaining what I’d figured out and since I'd spent so long listening, I could relate things to their story, what they needed. Helping and making a difference in someone else’s life made me feel better than I ever had. Seattle was a fresh start. I got to re-invent myself without pressure from friends to change back. Nobody knew me." She shrugged. "I didn't let Ed buy me an apartment because I needed to prove to myself Jimmy was wrong and I could support myself. I agreed to him helping with a down payment and I know he fudged the numbers. He didn't have to. He wanted to. Plus, I'm still a little spoiled, but much more grateful."

I laughed, "Nothing wrong with being a little spoiled." Says the man who impulsively bought her a three hundred and sixty-five dollar handmade necklace last night.

Emma got a strange look on her face. One I'd not seen before. She looked uncertain, almost scared. "Does rehab make me not look good for you?"

I double blinked and startled. "No." Her question wasn't about me as much as those around me. The ways in which I didn't give a shit were too many to count. If anything, I wanted her more. She changed herself for the better. That's hard and I respect the work it took. I don't have college admissions counselors to impress. His excuse was bullshit anyway. He was in high school and I can't blame him for deciding he didn't want to deal with her problems. He was a kid. Rehab as a teenager isn't even a blip on the radar for anyone in entertainment. Fans are a different issue. Some will find a reason to hate her no matter what. They create reasons out of nothing. This would give them something real. "I was worried you were perfect and I'd forever feel unworthy."

She laughed, "That's disturbing."

"Isn't it? Real people have pasts, flaws, and scars. Yours make you more beautiful. Real is always better. I keep my private life private for a reason. No one I know will care. Fans?" I cringed," That's a subject for a conversation I don't want to have right now."

"Why?"

"It can wait. You go home too soon. We aren't done with this conversation and I don’t want to add a new topic to take up more time.” Emma nodded her agreement. "Has Amy relapsed?"

She pulled her eyebrows down and frowned, "Oh yeah, three times. Last time she got pregnant."

"She was using when she got pregnant? I guess you don't think about condoms when there's a needle in your arm." I immediately regretted the last sentence. "I’m sorry. That was insensitive."

Emma pressed her mouth to mine, "Exactly how it happened."

I tried to recover, "Is Katie ok?"

Crossing her fingers, she said, "So far."

"Good." I had this nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. “You’re going back there. Should I be worried?”

“Nope.”

I locked onto Emma's eyes. I saw so much there. I ran my hand along her leg. "What do you need from me?" She looked at me strangely. "What Kirk and Alissa said."

Emma's confused face opened up, "Oh.” I like how she took a bit to think before pursing her lips and shaking her head. "Nothing. I'm good. We're good."

I got another kiss and her fingers stroking the back of my neck. I believed her.

She continued to play along the edge of my hair. "I don't think they meant anything negative. They liked you being you and didn't want me to misjudge the importance because I didn't know any different. I wasn't upset, but I didn't want distance to make my imagination go berserk."

"Keep doing the thing where you ask instead of letting things get out of control. I like your positive spin on their big mouths. I’m down to seriously annoyed."

"Good." She swung her legs off the couch. "Excuse me a sec."

I waited to hear the bathroom door close before digging out my phone and starting a small group chat with only two words. "Emotionally unavailable?"

I turned off my phone. I wasn't doing this now. Partly because I wasn't sure what I was annoyed about.

From the direction of my bedroom, I heard a whistle, then, "Vino aici, Sebasti-an." <come here>

Every nerve in my body fired simultaneously. I dropped my phone on the couch and headed her direction.

I should work on not being so easy.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Yeah, like that's going to happen.

I stopped to lean against the door frame. Emma was fully dressed laying on my bed with her hands clasped over her stomach. Just chilling out. I started to smile, "Did you seriously just whistle for me? You thought that would work."

She raised an eyebrow and tried not to smile, "And where are you, Bastian?"

I laughed, "Exactly where you called me to be." I crawled across my bed, hovering over her. "I'm not stupid."

Her hands ran up my biceps to my shoulders, "I knew you'd come if I called."

Nice double entendre. I bent my arms to kiss her, "Not the only time I'm going to come today."

Pushing up with one leg, she wrapped the other over my lower back to pull me down. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

The feel of her body pressed under me killed any idea I had about a soft, slow build-up. Her warmth and the shape of her fitting against me combined with her "vine aici" made me hungry. Her mouth was warm and her tongue teased and tasted me too. I kissed her while she touched me. Hands on my back and ass. Not waiting much time before hers were up my shirt and pushing it off. My kisses, her touch, what we both needed, and the hunger feeding off itself. Good times.

I struggled out of my t-shirt, trying to not stop the kissing. Impossible. Emma took advantage of my loss of balance and pushed me onto my back. She sat astride me, her fingers moving over my stomach, her nails scraping over the places I liked most. Her hands pressed down on my shoulders as she bent over to kiss me. It didn't last long, but when she sat up, she peeled her shirt over her head. I smoothed my hands up her waist, watching the way her stomach jumped with my touch. Before I got to her breasts, she undid her bra and tossed it away. The way she moved against my cock while I played with her breasts felt so good. Even better when I squeezed her nipples and she ground down hard. I sat up enough to take her in my mouth. My reward was a soft moan and her fingers in my hair, holding me to her.

I didn't fight when she pushed me away. Better things were coming, starting with her getting rid of my shorts and settling between my legs. The softness of her breasts was on either side of my cock while she laid soft kisses on my stomach. The way she seemingly ignored my cock, while still giving it attention was one of my favorite things. It seemed like the contact was accidental. It was not. Neither was the precise placement of her open mouth and teasing licks on the exact right spot. I closed my eyes, leaned my head back with a groan, and stroked her head. She knew exactly what she was doing.

"Fuck." The shift of her mouth to my cock was both too quick and too long in coming. Her hair blocked my view, but I didn't need to see. She licked the length of me several times, pausing to suck me barely in the warmth of her mouth before licking me again. Her hand held my balls, fingers caressing underneath where they met my body. I was already a mess by the time she slid her mouth down my shaft. A finger pressing on my perineum took me higher. There were better ways to get where she was going.

My voice was shaky. "Do you know what you're doing to me?" The sentence was broken by a catch in my breathing and followed by a gasp when a deeper press answered my question.

Emma pulled off my cock, meeting my eyes and her tongue teasing the V under the head of my cock. "I know exactly what I'm doing to you."

I blindly dug into my nightstand drawer and tossed the bottle of lube down the bed, "Then do it."

The warmth of her mouth took me back in and a few seconds later her finger pushed slowly inside me. Slow was good. It had been a while, but when she hit my prostate I saw stars and remembered just how amazing this felt. I thought to tell her what felt best, but she figured it out. Possibly because I pulled the pillow out from under my head to use it to smother myself and dull the obscene noises I was making. Everything in my lower body contracted tighter and tighter, waiting to explode. When I couldn't breathe through the pillow, I threw it off the bed. I was close. I squirmed against the contact and between groans mumbled, "Harder."

Her firmer touch set off a nuclear reaction. I arched off the bed, fell back, and orgasmed for days. I couldn't open my eyes. I felt Emma's headrest on my hip. Maybe her fingers on my thigh. "I think I’m paralyzed from the waist down. I can't feel my legs." Her finger slipped back inside and a gentle tap had me convulsing again "Yep." Breathe. "Felt that." Breathe again. “Fuck."

[onewfantaesy]

Monsters in the Dark (Part 3)

(tw: ed)

It’s once he’s on his own that things get really bad. Not just going solo, but all the others are doing their military service at the same time. He’s completely alone. It allows Taemin to be swallowed up entirely by his own thoughts, allows him to fast for days on end without anyone really being able to notice. Sure, managers get concerned, stylists mention the bags under his eyes, backup dancers have to put a hand on his arm to steady him when he stumbles, but they don’t really say anything. Not like the others would. Taemin takes advantage of it, even if he hates it with every ounce of his being.

He misses them, and it hurts so much, so he drowns the hurt with hunger pains instead.

But after the first few months of what feels like complete solitude, he can’t keep up with the fasting. It’s been so long - so long - since he started all of this, and he’s lost track of time, and he can’t remember when anything started or how or why. But the fasting, he just can’t do it.

He starts binging worse than he ever has before. Weeks on end of stuffing his face with anything he gets his hands on, anything to fill the void in his chest. He gains so much weight so quickly that he’s terrified to step on the scale, but he has to, he has to weigh himself every single morning compulsively.

More binging leads to more purging. It becomes a daily occurrence, sometimes multiple times a day, and his throat burns so bad but he can’t stop.

Then SuperM becomes a thing. He’s suddenly thrust into this group with members he isn’t used to, with members who aren’t used to him, who haven’t grown accustomed to his fucked up eating patterns. With SHINee, his eating had become so fucked up so gradually that no one really noticed; it was like growing taller, you don’t notice when a child grows up when you live with them. But these new members? They send him funny looks when he picks at a salad, when he drinks five cups of black coffee in less than two hours, when he pulls out an emergency cookie from his dance bag and shoves it in his mouth to stop himself from passing out mid-rehearsal.

And Taemin wasn’t used to them, either. He’s grown accustomed to SHINee’s particular brand of bickering, it no longer gave him the stomach-churning reactions it used to. But these six new members? Especially the younger ones? God, they bickered about anything and everything. It wasn’t always serious, it was sometimes very lighthearted, but the way their voices rose so quickly, the way they talked over each other and made things clatter all over the room, it made Taemin’s anxiety spike higher than usual, sending him bolting to bathroom to gag over a public toilet.

He hates nothing more than falling in a public bathroom, bent over a toilet that who knows how many gross fucks took a shit in with their asses sweaty from dance practice sitting on the rim. It made the nausea so much worse. Made his puking so much more violent.

“Are you okay?” Baekhyun asks, and he’s taken over the role of leader rather well, if Taemin is being honest.

“Fine,” he chokes back.

“Do you want a water?” Baekhyun asks. “You should lay down on the couch when you’re finished. Take a rest.”

“Thank you,” Taemin says inbetween spitting out whatever’s left in his mouth. “Sorry.”

Baekhyun holds him upright as they walk back to the practice room, and he lowers Taemin very gently onto the couch in the corner. Jongin sits with him then, running a hand through Taemin’s hair to try and soothe the headache Taemin lied about having. The younger ones are quiet then, speaking softly to each other after shyly asking Taemin if he was alright.

“Just tired,” he says, his eyes closed.

“You should stay at my place tonight,” Jongin says softly.

“That’s alright.”

“Please,” Jongin says, his voice close to pleading. “Just humor me. I worry about you.”

Taemin stays at Jongin’s that night, the two of them curled on the bed with Taemin’s back pressed against Jongin’s chest. It’s comforting. Taemin is glad he went, glad he let Jongin hold him even if he was afraid of him feeling the way Taemin’s hipbones didn’t poke out the same anymore.

But he doesn’t have to live with this new group. Doesn’t have to around them constantly. It’s a freedom Taemin wishes he had cherished more when he realizes just what sharing a dorm in Los Angeles means.

He needs his own room. He desperately needs to get a single room, to not share with anyone, to have his own bathroom, otherwise they’ll find out, they’ll know, they’ll all know. It makes his heart race and he almost falls over and his hands are shaking when he picks a number to pick a room.

He thanks God and all his lucky stars that he managed to snag the room he wanted. Thanks his seniority and the fact that they essentially gave in and let him have it. Falls on the bed while clutching his chest because his heart hurts, it hurts so bad, he’d been so freaked out about having to share a room or a bathroom and having to work so much harder to hide the purging.

He wants the pain in his chest to stop, so he pinches his legs hard, punches them, squeezes them until bruises start spreading across his skin. He punches his thigh so hard it makes him gasp and fall over and hide his face in a pillow. Fuck. Fuck, that had actually hurt more than he meant to hurt it. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The others don’t seem to notice the way he drags his right leg when he does finally leave his room. Well, Jongin notices, and he whispers in Taemin’s ear to ask what happened, and Taemin just snorts.

“Hit it on the corner of the bed,” he mumbles, trying to look embarrassed.

Jongin laughs and hugs Taemin close to him on the couch.

“Does anyone want pizza?” Mark asks, having already downloaded Postmates and looked at all the available options.

Everyone else loudly agrees, asks for specific toppings, asks for chicken wings and breadsticks, and the idea of that much bread at one time almost gives Taemin a panic attack.

“No thanks,” Taemin eventually says, and everyone looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “I’m not really hungry.”

“You hardly ate anything on the plane,” Jongin says softly, and everyone else has gone back to talking with each other. “Are you not feeling well?”

“Traveling just makes me queasy,” Taemin laughs it off. “My tummy’s upset, that’s all.”

And he leans heavily against Jongin and closes his eyes and nuzzles his face in Jongin’s neck. Jongin pouts and hugs him and joins in on the conversation while Taemin stays quietly nestled against him.

Taemin ends up eating a piece of cheese pizza and a cinnamon breadstick and it feels like a huge lump in his stomach, he hates it.

He feels his breathing quicken and then he feels the way the saliva pools in his mouth and he has to rush to his bathroom so he doesn’t end up puking on the floor.

“Taemin?”

He hates that Jongin is coming over to him, sitting on the bathroom floor with him, rubbing his back and whispering soothing words to him. He hates that puking always makes his eyes burn with tears, hates that when he pulls his head away from the toilet that Jongin wipes the tears away with his thumbs.

“You worried the kiddies,” Jongin teases, helping Taemin up and flushing the toilet for him, then guiding him to the sink to brush his teeth. “You should take a shower and go to bed. Do you want me to stay with you?”

Don’t let him stay, the voice says.

“Please,” Taemin croaks. “Please stay.”

Traitor, the voice calls him.

Jongin stays with him, makes sure he doesn’t fall over in the shower and crack his head open, and gets him into bed.

“I’m just gonna go change,” Jongin says softly. “I’ll be right back, if you still want me to stay.”

“Don’t leave,” Taemin begs, gripping Jongin’s hand. “Please stay.”

“What’s wrong?” Jongin asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he sits back down on the bed.

“Traveling,” Taemin lies again. “Just makes me sick. And - and-”

He wants to tell Jongin. He wants to tell someone, anyone, that he can’t eat anything without puking, that he hates the way he looks, that he hates food but he loves food but he hates eating but he loves eating and it’s so confusing and he can’t handle it anymore.

“I’m lonely,” he says instead.

“I’m sorry,” Jongin whispers, laying down and hugging Taemin. “I’ll stay here. Can I shower in here?”

“Yeah,” Taemin whispers. “Can wear my other pajamas.”

They’re all too big for him anyway. They’ll no doubt fit Jongin.

He makes Jongin stay with him a few more minutes before he lets him go shower. Then Jongin stays with him until he falls asleep, falls into dreams about bread getting stuck in his throat as he pukes it back up and choking him until he dies. When he wakes up, Jongin isn’t in the bed anymore, but he can hear him whispering just outside the door.

He’s telling Baekhyun that Taemin got sick, that he was lonely and wanted Jongin to stay in his room that night. Baekhyun says they can talk about it in the morning, when Taemin is awake and hopefully feeling better.

Taemin doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to deal with it. He doesn’t want help. He wants to just ignore it all, to pretend that nothing is wrong.

“Traveling,” he continues with the lie the next morning, “just makes me a little queasy sometimes. Especially when it’s international.”

They all seem to believe him. Taemin is thankful, and he pours himself a third cup of black coffee and ignores the way the younger members look concerned and whisper about too much caffeine.

[waiting4inspiration]

Rumors aren’t Always True (Ivar x Slave!Reader)

Summary: When rumors start to spread that Ivar can’t satisfy a woman, you decide to put his mind and ease and show him that it’s not true

Warnings: SMUT, sexual content, unprotected sex, strong language

Vikings Masterlist

The mouth on Margrethe was as good at gossip as it was at sucking cock. It was no secret that she had been fucking the sons of Ragnar and honestly you didn’t care. It wasn’t when she blabbed that Ivar couldn’t satisfy a woman that you started to care. 

You had been Ivar’s slave for years now. He preferred you over all the other slaves and enjoyed your company, even if he wouldn’t admit it. You made him smile most times and always knew what to do to relieve the pain he felt in his legs on the bad days. 

He never treated you like the other thralls. He was always uncharacteristically calm around you and it made his brothers question why you were so special. And when Ivar told them that he wanted to have sex with Margrethe, they were confused as to why he didn’t want it to be you. 

Hvitserk told you what Ivar wanted to do, thinking that it might upset you. You were slightly upset but you didn’t let it show. You always hid the fact that you have feelings for Ivar thinking that he would never feel the same way about you. This only confirms everything. 

A few weeks later when the rumor came out, you didn’t react like everyone else did. You didn’t feel sorry for Ivar. Frankly, you didn’t care because it was just a rumor and how often do rumors turn out to be true. 

“You’re quiet,” Ivar speaks, pulling you out of your thoughts as you make up the bed in his room. 

Looking over at him, you give him a shrug before turning back to finish your work. “I’m just doing my job,” you say, walking across the room to grab the pile of clothes on a chair. 

Ivar stops you, calling you over to him. Biting your lip, you walk across the room again before sitting in the chair beside Ivar. He doesn’t lift his head to look at you as you sit beside him and your eyes fall to your hands after a moment of silence between the two of you. 

“I know you’ve heard what everyone is saying about me.” His statement causes your head to snap up at him as he slowly raises his head. “That I cannot satisfy a woman.”

Gulping, you look back down at the ground for a moment before looking back at him with a sigh. “I don’t care much about rumors, Ivar,” you say, leaning back in the chair. “Besides, I don’t believe them.”

Scoffing, his eyes glare up at you and burn into your skin. “Don’t mock me, (Y/n).”

“I’m not mocking you,” you say sternly. You’re probably the only thrall that can speak to him in that kind of tone without him killing you. “It was your first time, right?”

His stare hardens, sending a shiver down your spine. He knows now that one of his brothers has told you about Margrethe but you can’t take his anger for them up on you. He doesn’t want to. “Ivar, if it was your first time then you were probably nervous. A lot of men are nervous their first time,” you say, leaning forward, placing your elbows on your knees as you look up at him. 

Ivar raises an eyebrow and gives you a smirk. “That something you’d know about?” he says, making you glare at him before standing up.

“I was going to help you, but if you’re going to insult me...” He grabs your arm as you walk away, making you turn back to face him as he pulls you towards him. 

You kneel in front of the chair, looking up at him as he stares down at you. “How can you help me if my prick doesn’t work?” he questions, his lip sneering as his eyes run over your face.

“Who says it doesn’t work? Margrethe?” You laugh, shaking your head at her name. “She doesn’t know as much as she thinks she does,” you mutter, looking at the ground for a second. “You just need to relax next time.”

Ivar lets his grip around your arm go as he scoffs, leaning back in his chair. “Because women are just lining up to have sex with me now,” he grunts, keeping his gaze on you. 

You shrug your shoulders, looking back at him with a smile on your face. “Well, maybe if you prove the rumor wrong, they would,” you suggest. 

He stares at you, running his eyes over your face a hundred times. You obviously notice this, watching his closely as he brings a hand up to your cheek. Gasping at his touch, your heart races in your chest. He’s never touched you like this before. 

Cupping your chin between his index finger and thumb, he pulls you up as he leans forward, crashing his lips on yours. Letting your body take over, you stand to straddle him, placing your legs on either side of him without breaking the kiss. 

Holding his face in your hands as you lower yourself on him, his hands grip your hips as his kiss turns rough, kissing you like a starved man. Biting down on your lower lip, you moan into his mouth and grind your hips against his.

He’s wanted this for so long, The only reason why he chose Margrethe instead of you was because he didn’t think that you wanted this. Now, he feels like a fool for not choosing you. 

Taking your words into account as his heart starts to race, he pushes his nervousness aside, focusing on kissing you. Groaning as you press down onto his, he pulls away from your lips as he makes his way down your jaw. 

Pulling the skirt on your dress up, he slips his fingers between your bodies and touches your throbbing sex. Throwing your head back as he slips his finger between your folds, you grind down on his hand as you grip the material of his shirt in your fists.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he breathes against your skin, making you moan as he touches your clit. He runs his tongue across the skin of your neck, his fingers lowering down your folds before the dive past your entrance as his teeth bite down on your neck.

Your hips thrust forward as your hands grip his shoulders. With a heaving chest, you look up at Ivar as he starts working his finger against your walls. His eyes are dark with lust, making your thighs tremble as he watches you deeply. 

Watching you on top of him with your eyes shut, moans falling from your mouth and your hips grinding desperately against his hand, he feels something change inside of him. “Ivar,” you groan when his fingers stop moving.

The sound that left your lips when he presses down on your clit again is enough to make his cock hard. Rubbing that spot in circles with his thumb as he adds another finger inside of you, he leans up to place his lips back on yours.

Placing your hands on the sides of his neck, you moan into his mouth as you rock your hips onto his fingers. “Fuck,” you breath, feeling an orgasm build up inside of you. 

Pulling his fingers away from your aching core, you whimper at the loss of contact, looking at him with pleading eyes. “I want you to come around me,” he whispers in your ear, bitting your earlobe as he presses your hips down on his. 

Gasping when you notice how hard he is, you can’t help but smile at the fact that you were right. Biting your lip as your hands travel down his chest and landing on the bulge in his pants, he lets out a groan as you palm his through the material. 

Untying his pants, he sighs at the relief his cock gets before your hand wraps around it. Glaring up at you, you place your lips on his as you stroke him, running your thumb over the tip causing him to groan. 

Grabbing your wrist, he pulls your hand away from him before gripping your hips. Lifting them to hover above him, you sigh as you feel his cock teasing at your entrance. Sinking down onto him, you gasp as your walls stretch and you dig your nail into his shoulders. “You’re so tight. When was the last time you had someone fuck you?”

“So long,” you moan. He growls against your neck, gripping your hips as he thrusts up into you causing a gasp to fall from your lips. “Ivar.”

The way you moan out his name makes him groan, gripping your hips bruisingly tight. “Do that again,” he orders, making you smile as you grind down on his hips. You repeat his name, moan in his ear this time. He pushes up into you as he kisses your neck. “Again.” You do as he orders, earning an animalistic growl to radiate from his chest and his hand to wrap around your throat. “You’re mine.”

Moaning as he presses your hips against him, you simply nod your head as he thrusts into you. “I’m yours. Only yours.” Leaning up to capture your bottom lip with his teeth, he bites down on it making it bleed. Feeling him lick the blood off your lip, you feel your orgasm build up again. 

Your walls clench around him, making his cock throb inside of you. “Cum for me,” he groans against your jaw, his movements becoming rougher as he feels his own release edge closer. 

Moving with the same brutality as his hips, you let out a scream as your high hits you, making you come around him just like he wanted. The sound of his name falling from your lips and your walls milking him, he comes undone beneath you spilling his seed inside you. 

Riding out your highs, you fall against his chest and listen to his heart thump against his chest. Bringing a hand up under your chin, he lifts your head to place his lips on yours. Giving you a quick sloppy kiss, he pulls away to catch his breath. “Looks like I was right,” you giggle, looking up at his blue eyes as he chuckles. 

A/n: Btw, the lol-ed way too much at the first line, my mom wanted to know what I was laughing at...

[starwalker42]

And The World Keeps Spinning [1/2]

This is for the X-Files Fluff Exchange by @xfilesfanficexchange, which was a huge leap out of my comfort zone but I’m so glad I signed up to! My prompt was “something fluffy around Mulder and Scully spending Valentines together either as a new couple or maybe not a couple yet” from @kristinsauter, and I really hope I did it justice! Part 2 to follow x (Link to A03)

This is all my fault. Frohike would probably disagree, but he wouldn’t have been able to talk me into this if I hasn’t had those beers, so I only have myself to blame, really.

It was barely a week after New Year’s, and it shouldn’t have surprised me that with only one drink down I was already talking about that night; every morning since, I’d woken with the memory of Scully’s lips on mine, and despite my best intentions I’d found myself dreaming about it during the day, too.

Originally the guys had been ecstatic, but when it became apparent that was as far as we’d gone- and that we hadn’t discussed it since- praise quickly turned to exasperation. Frohike gave the most world-weary sigh I’ve ever heard, Langly started off on one of his lectures- dude, are you serious, what the hell- and even Byers looked unimpressed.

“You can’t kiss a lady when the world’s about to end and not take her out for dinner,” Frohike commented around his beer.

I can’t remember what exactly my excuse was- probably something about it not being the right time, about how she was my partner, not just some random hookup, and that it wasn’t as easy as ‘taking her out for dinner’- but I don’t think they listened anyway.

“You can’t leave her hanging, dude.”

“I know you’re nervous, Mulder, but you should ask her.”

“Just take her to Casey’s-”

I shot down Frohike’s idea almost before it was out of his mouth. “My first date with Scully is not going to be Casey’s.”

“Unless you get your head out of your ass I don’t think it’ll happen at all.” Langly drawled, and that did it.

“I’ll do it! I’m going to ask her out for Valentine’s.”

“Why the wait?”

In my mind, it was to leave enough time for this conversation to be forgotten and for the guys to never bring up the subject again. But of course, that didn’t happen, and last week they were the ones reminding me about what I’d said. I’d promised I’d ask her when we were out of town on this new case with the VCU.

I haven’t.

I’d meant to, several times, but the moment was never right: the words just hadn’t come out, or we’d been discussing the case, or been standing over a skinned corpse… you get the idea. So now we’re in the office, on the 13th February, having worked non-stop for seven days, and I’m trying to delay my inevitable exit my packing my bag as slowly as humanly possible while Scully finishes filling in her report. She always takes longer; she has to be precise and make sure everything’s filled in right, can’t just scribble stuff down like I can.

Normally I love that about her- today I just want her to hurry up so she can leave the office and I can stay down here in my self-created loneliness for the rest of my miserable life. The guys are going to have a field day when they find out about how badly this has gone.

“Penny for them.”

I glance up and meet Scully’s smiling eyes. She raises her eyebrow expectantly and I find myself unable to come up with a suitable lie. The words come out on top of each other.

“I was just wondering if you want to come over tomorrow night. For dinner.”

I have to look away, can’t stand to see the unavoidable pity and rejection in her face.

“Sure, sounds great.”

I almost feel the floor fall from under me. My cheeks are on fire as I feel my face break out into a smile I can’t stop.

“Uh, okay, cool.” My bag almost falls from my hand as I fumble with it. “See you at seven?”

“I’ll be there.”

Is that my heart pounding?

                                                           xXx

Mulder grabs his coat, stops briefly in the doorway to run his hand across the back of his neck, and says to the floor, “See you tomorrow.”

I stop trying to decode his behaviour. It’s been a long week. “See you tomorrow.”

And then he’s gone.

Tomorrow is Monday, which would normally mean we’d be in each other’s company for a good ten hours or so in the office, but after this past week Skinner’s practically begged us to take a few days off so I’ve threatened Mulder that on pain of death he must not step foot in this building until Wednesday at the earliest. I know it might be just as hard to keep me away.

I’m looking forward to a few days off, of course I am- I haven’t had a bath in lord knows how long- but the longer I’m away from the office, the less I can relax. Okay, that’s not true- the longer I’m away from Mulder would probably be a better way of putting it. As pathetic as it sounds, if I’m away from him for much longer than a day it just feels wrong. I feel wrong. I’m sure some would call it dependency, and while I’m not sure about that I know that when I’m away from him, even if I know exactly where he is and what he’s doing, even if he’s only a phone call away, I’m lonely. I don’t know when but somewhere along the line it became clear that I’m happiest when I’m by his side; that I’m safer, more comfortable, and somehow more whole when I’m with him. I feel like myself.

Our classic method of hiding what I’m beginning to suspect is a mutual need for contact is anything can hide behind the safe veneer of a night in between friends, more often than not in the form of a takeaway and a terrible movie on Mulder’s couch. It’s happened enough times that at this point I’m expecting it at times like this, so I’m a little shocked that Mulder thinks it necessary to have to make pre-arranged plans. Surely he knows he could call me at 6 tomorrow night and I’d be over in half an hour?

I again remind myself to stop trying to work out my partner, and try to be content with the knowledge that I understand him a hell of a lot better than anyone else. The thought makes me smile as I grab my keys and leave the office.

It isn’t until I’m driving back home and see, of all things, the Victoria’s Secret window display, that I realise what day it is tomorrow. It’s not just Monday. It’s Valentine’s Day.

It’s fucking Valentine’s Day.

My first thought is to dismiss it as a coincidence: Mulder forgets even my birthday, and it’s been a long hard week, and if I forgot then it’s likely he did too… but then I remember the way he couldn’t meet my eyes, the way his cheeks flushed, the relieved smile he gave when I said yes.

He knows what day tomorrow is.

And I’m pretty sure he’s asked me on a date.

And I’ve said yes.

Holy shit.

                                                            xXx

It’s not until the doors to the elevator close behind me that I allow myself to breathe.

Holy shit.

I just asked Scully out. On a date. A Valentine’s date. And she didn’t roll her eyes, or oh brother me, or deck me one in the face. She said yes.

Holy shit!

I don’t know how to do this. How long has it been since I was on a date? Should I book a restaurant somewhere? Is it acceptable to get takeout? What the hell am I supposed to wear? My the time I’m at the garage I’ve managed to talk myself into a spiral of panic, and I’m very close to calling Scully and cancelling before I remember that ultimately, that’s who I’m doing this for. Scully.

I don’t have to dress up or create some fake-perfect evening for her, because that’s not our thing. And tomorrow is about us.

On my way back, I stop at the store and buy a bottle of wine- one of the expensive ones that Scully never admits she has at her place- and decide to risk forgoing takeout and buying ingredients in the hopes that I can still remember how to cook carbonara. I don’t know what I’d even begin to write in a card, so I don’t even glance at them, but at the flower display I have to stop. I’ve only ever bought Scully flowers when she was in hospital, but if there’s any time to break a tradition it’s now. Red roses are too forward, and too traditional, and everything else seems to be the same shade of pink that I know Scully will hate. I’m about to give up when I see the smaller bouquets at the front- well, one in particular. It’s a beautiful mix of what look like white roses and a whole mix of others that I can’t identify apart from their colour- blue. They’re almost exactly the same shade as Scully’s eyes, so close that it almost takes my breath away.

They’re the ones.

The cashier doesn’t seem surprised by my purchases- I assume she’s used to harried customers buying last minute Valentine’s gifts- and a few minutes later I’m back in my car and driving home. I feel my face breaking out into a ridiculous grin, and don’t try to contain it.

                                                           xXx

I’ve been on edge all day. I’ve tried going for a run, having a bath, reading some of my book, but I can’t relax. It’s now 4pm and I’m judging that to be a suitable time to start getting ready, especially because if I leave it any longer I think I might scream. Also I’m likely to need another three hours just to work out what the hell I’m going to wear, and how to come across as completely relaxed about this entire situation. How long has it been since I went on a proper date? How long since I’ve been on one and actually enjoyed it?

Ed Jerse comes to mind, but deep down I think I know that I didn’t really enjoy it, that what I enjoyed was the concept. Letting go and getting away from myself in the way that no one would expect from straight-laced Agent Scully. But even at the time, I wasn’t enjoying it. I remember closing my eyes and trying to imagine it was Mulder inside me, having to bite my tongue so I didn’t cry out his name. It occurs to me that if things go to plan tonight, I might actually end up in the place I’d wished for those years ago. Mulder and I might have sex tonight. Okay, now I really need to go and have a shower. A cold one.

I can’t get the picture out of my mind, though. If I’m being honest, I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind for a while now. And our kiss on New Year’s didn’t exactly help things in that regard. I’m pretty sure it’s no longer a question of if but when we cross that final line, and if it hadn’t been for Mulder’s injuries, I think we would’ve crossed it that very same night.

But maybe it’s better this way; at least now I can prepare somewhat. I straighten my hair for what must be the third time today, and try to work out how best to do my makeup without looking like I’ve been thinking about it too hard, which ultimately means that I redo it several times before I’m happy. I second guess myself on what to wear about a dozen times as well, going between completely casual (jeans and a t-shirt) to the frankly overdressed (an evening gown I’ve had for years and never worn), and everything in-between.

In the end I opt for a V-neck sweater that Melissa bought for me all those years ago, one that I’ve only worn a handful of times and only never out of the house. It’s gorgeous material, cosy and soft, but it was clearly either designed for someone with bigger breasts or with a bigger load of self confidence because on my chest it’s somewhat loose, and definitely not the kind of thing I’d normally wear. If it wasn’t that Melissa had bought it for me I think I would’ve got rid of it by now, but I’m glad I didn’t. I can’t wait to see Mulder’s face.

                                                          xXx

There’s a knock on the door ten minutes before seven. I’m not even surprised: it’s Scully, of course she’s early. In a way I’m glad, because dinner is almost ready and part of me had been dreading the point where minutes after minutes went by without her showing up until it became clear that she was never going to.

Now as I hear her knock on the door I allow myself to breathe a sigh of relief that all of this- making dinner, buying wine, cleaning the apartment, putting on one of my best shirts- wasn’t for nothing. An instant later panic hits again. Oh god. Scully’s here, which means this is actually happening. Oh god.

I realise I’ve been frozen in the kitchen when I hear another knock, slightly louder this time, and remember that even though Scully has a key and is more than willing to use it under normal circumstances, she’s likely to not be so keen right now. Okay. Okay, I can do this.

My hand trembles as I slide the bolt across and pull the door open. I’m apologising almost immediately, too anxious to let the words take their time.

“Hey, sorry, I heard you I just had to make sure the food wasn’t-” and then I actually look at her, and- “Wow.”

It’s not exactly a new thought, not particularly different to what usually goes through my mind when I look at her, but her appearance tonight is… wow. I can’t pinpoint what it is, exactly, and can only conclude it’s some magical combination of a slightly darker lipstick than usual, the smile she’s giving me, and the fact that I can see so many more inches of her beautiful skin than usual thanks to the cut of the sweater she’s wearing. How the hell does the sight of her clavicle do these things to me?

Noticing the way Scully’s eyes glance up and down my body while I’m still stood in the doorway, I step back to allow her in and close the door behind her. My hands? Still shaking with the best of them.

“Can I take your coat?”

“Uh… yeah. Thanks.”

My hands don’t feel like they belong to me as I slide the jacket off of her, not missing the way she gasps when my fingers accidently brush the exposed skin of her collarbone. I hang it up and briefly turn my attention back to the stove, where the spaghetti is at risk of overflowing, and try to breathe. Scully is too quiet.

“I’ve got wine if you want?” I ask over my shoulder, but she’s gone. “Scully?”

“In here.” Her voice comes from somewhere else in the apartment, out of sight.

I turn down the stove and head through to the living room. She’s stood at my desk, and I immediately know what she’s found. I’d hoped I could at least get her to have a drink before she saw I’d bought her flowers.

“These are for me.” It’s not a question.

“Oh, actually they were for my other date, but she didn’t show,” I joke, trying to ignore the pounding of my heart. Were they a mistake? And did I just call Scully my date-?

There’s an indecipherable expression on her face when she turns to face me. “No man’s ever bought me flowers before.”

Somehow I find that hard to believe doesn’t seem like the correct response, especially because I know my partner, and I know this isn’t how she messes with me. She’s being honest, and somehow without thinking I find myself doing the same.

“They reminded me of you.” She raises an eyebrow. “They’re the same blue as your eyes.”

I catch the way her cheeks flush before she glances away, and hear the quiet thank you she gives to the floor before she speaks up.

“You don’t drink wine, Mulder.”

I hear the pan bubbling from the kitchen again. “Yeah, well, you’d better not go teetotal on me now, Scully, because otherwise I’m going to have to start.”

She raises her eyes and gives a smirk. “I’ll get a glass.”

                                                          xXx

I don’t think I’ve ever been as surprised by Mulder as I have been tonight. He’s bought my favourite wine, he’s got me flowers- beautiful ones at that- he’s made dinner for us even though I was 90% sure he’d never cooked in his life, and now it appears he’s had time to stop off at Blockbuster to empty the romcom aisle.

“What’re we feeling?” He spreads the VHS cases across the coffee table and looks over to me expectantly. We’re almost touching on the couch.

My head is a little fuzzy with wine and the giddiness that comes with being too close to Mulder for too long, and rather than answering immediately I find myself just looking into his eyes for a long minute. I can feel it, the familiar magnetism between us, and for once I realise that nothing should be holding us back from giving in to it. I’m tipsy, and Mulder’s been drinking beer during dinner, so I know he’s not exactly sober either. We’re here, in private, together. It would be so easy to give in. So why don’t I? With liquid courage, I lean forwards and send a thanks to whoever created Valentine’s Day and gave me an excuse to press my lips against his.

Neither of us move, I don’t think we dare to, and the outcome isn’t much different to that first kiss on New Year’s Eve- a somewhat gentle, trepidatious kiss that feels like it lasts forever and still ends far too soon.

“You choose.” I manage as we disengage, noticing how much huskier my voice has become.

Mulder doesn’t even look, just grabs a tape at random and manages to get it into the player before returning to sit next to me. I press myself against his side and smile when I feel his arm come to wrap around my shoulders, like it belongs there. The first few beats of ‘Be My Baby’ play from the TV, and I hum in approval of Mulder’s choice.

“You know, I’ve never watched this film.” His voice is low and soft in my ear.

“What? It’s a classic American movie,” I whisper back.

“That’s what every woman says. It’s a chick flick.”

“Patrick Swayze’s not your type?”

He presses a quick kiss to my cheek as we settle back against the couch. “You know exactly what my type is.”

You know what Mulder? I think I might be beginning to work it out.

[nemesyis]

Awkward first times

Pairing: Hoseok (BTS) x Reader

Rating: NSFW

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, lots of fluff, slight angst, more fluff, awkward virgin sex, friends to lovers. awkward virgin sex

Written by: Nemesyis

Hoseok knocked on your door.  When you answered, he took in your reddened eyes and tear stained cheeks.  “What happened?  Y/N, talk to me.” he said, taking your face in his hands.  

It was too much and you broke into tears again.  Burrowing your face into his shirt, soaking it through with your tears.  “It’s Jaeho… he broke up with me…” you sobbed.  

“What, why?” he said, pulling you into his arms.  “I thought you two were doing fine!”

Walking you backwards into your house, he disentangled himself from your grip and took you by the arm.  He lead you down the hall to your bedroom and sat you on your computer chair before kneeling in front of you.  “Come on Y/N, tell your bestie what happened.”

Looking into his large brown puppy dog eyes that were now staring back at you with concern, you felt more tears begin to threaten to fall.  Sniffing, “Jaeho… he said I was a prude and an ice queen and a cock tease because all I would do with him was make out, but never go to second base.”  

Hoseok’s countenance darkened as he heard each item that you ticked off that your now ex-boyfriend had said about you.  He had never really liked the guy much anyway.  Never thought he was good enough for you.  Brushing tears from your cheeks and tucking a wad of tissue into your hand he looked you squarely in the face and said, “Y/N.  If he said all those things about you, then it’s pretty obvious that all he wanted was sex.  I’ve known guys like him.  Nothing but fuckboys that only care about one thing and they never stick around afterwards.”

“But he told me he loved me.” you sniveled before wiping your nose and looking back up at him again.  “He told me that I didn’t really love him because I wouldn’t go all the way with him.”

Sighing, Hoseok stood up and pulled you to your feet.  “Come on, let’s go wash your face.  Afterwards we can watch one of your chick flicks and forget about him.”

After several hours and a pint of ice cream each, you were finally calm enough to enjoy Hobi’s company.  It made your mind wander.  What was the big deal with sex.  You were a virgin, not by choice, but more so by the fact that you never really felt the need to experience it.  Being an adult and still a virgin didn’t define who you were.  

“You okay Y/N?” Hoseok asked, noticing that you weren’t paying attention to the movie.  “Do you want to watch something else?”

“What’s so wonderful about it anyway?” you responded to no one in particular.  “I mean, I know its supposed to be great, but it just sounds kinda gross.  I mean, its basic function is to make babies you know?  Furthering the human population and all that.”

He smiled at you in confusion.  “What are you talking about Y/N?  Sex?  What’s the big deal with sex?” he smiled at you awkwardly.

Turning to face him, you took his hand in yours and looked him in the eye.  “Have sex with me Hobi.  I want you to be my first.”

“What, why?” he spluttered.  “I mean… shouldn’t we talk about this?  Why me?”

“Because I trust you thats why.  I know you won’t hurt me and you know I’m clean.  Are you clean?” you asked hopefully as you attempted to climb on top of him.

He awkwardly held you at bay as he fended off your attempt to kiss him.  “Stop Y/N, let’s think this through okay?  I’m a virgin too.”

That made you pause.  Looking down at him blinking not quite sure you heard him correctly, “What?”

“I said, I’m a virgin too.  I’ve never had sex.” he said again, blushing slightly.  “I mean, I’ve always liked you Y/N, but… are you sure?”

“You like me?” you asked quietly.

“Yeah I do.  I always have.  And because of that I don’t wanna move too fast and mess anything up.” was his response as he took your hands and smiled at you shyly.  

Leaning over, you pecked him lightly on the lips.  He closed the gap between the two of you and gave you a kiss back.  “Are you sure you want to do this now Y/N?” he asked softly.

“Yeah I do.  It feels okay with you.” was your answer before you gave him another kiss.  This time it was slow.  Your mouths moving together in tandem.  He was gentle with you, letting you take the lead.  Tentatively you slid your hand up his arms and onto his shoulders.  

Before you could go further, he stood and pulled you to your feet.  “If we are going to do this, let’s do it properly.” pulling you along behind as he made his way to your bedroom.  Once you were inside, he shut the door.  Turning he saw you sitting on your bed.  You had pulled your shirt off and were now doing your best to appear alluring.  You looked ridiculous and it made him giggle.  Pulling off his own shirt before joining you.  He lay down, taking you along with him.  

You turned on your side to face him, skimming your hand up and down his side.  “So… uh… how do we get this started exactly?”

He smiled and pulled you closer.  As he did, he captured your lips once more and slid a hand down to tease along the waistband of your leggings.  “Is this okay?”

Nodding you took his hand and guided him further towards your core.  Once his fingers brushed your folds, you took your hand away and let him explore your wet heat.  Tentatively, you reached down to cup him through his track pants.  To your surprise, he was already hard.  Palming him gently as he kissed you sweetly, his breath began to come in small puffs before pulling away from your mouth and staring into your eyes with heated gaze.  “If you keep doing that, I won’t last.” he groaned as his hips rocked into your touch.  

He pulled your leggings off, tossing them aside.  Soon to be followed by the remainder of his clothes.  He settled between your thighs and kissed you again.  He mouthed along your jaw and then further down to the valley of your breasts.  He laved one pebbled peak with his tongue, while he gently kneaded the other with his free hand.  “Hobi…” you gasped before he kissed you again.

“Are you ready Y/N?” He asked looking up at you from between your breasts.  You nodded and bit your bottom lip.  He got up long enough to go digging for his wallet.  Pulling a condom out, he unwrapped it and stood at the edge of the bed trying to put it on.  “Give me a second.  I’ve never actually had to put one on.” he giggled bashfully.  “The last time I did this, it was middle school sex-ed and they made us put it on a banana.”  He finally got it rolled on and resumed his former position.  He kissed you again and rubbed his cock along your folds.  “I’m gonna push in now.  Let me know if it hurts too much.”  

He slowly thrust into you.  At first the sensation was weird, then it burned a little as you stretched around him.  You didn’t have the expected pain from breaking your hymen, as it had fallen victim to your active childhood spent riding your bike all over the place and falling out of trees.  Once he was fully seated inside of you, he stopped moving.  “Are you okay?” he asked, voice shaking with strain.  The effort of holding himself steady instead of giving in to his lust, and fucking you into the mattress.  

You had shut your eyes, opening them only once he stopped moving.  “Yeah, I’m okay.  Give me a minute.” you said as you met his gaze.  Noticing that he was trembling, “Are you gonna be okay?”

He kissed you on the nose, “I’m fine, you just feel so good.”

“I think I’m ready.” you murmured, kissing him back.  He gingerly pulled out and pushed back into you.  You really weren't sure what to think of the sensation of being filled.  Unsure of what to do with your limbs, you grasped onto his shoulders.  Hoseok buried his face into your neck as he thrust into you with sloppy motions.  It felt nice, but you hadn’t experiences anything earth shattering yet.  Once Hoseok changed the angle of his hips, you felt a shock of intense pleasure run through your body.  Gasping, “Oh!” as your pussy twitched in response.  

“Did I do something wrong?” he murmured as he rose on his elbows to look at you, concern on his features.  

“No… I don’t think so… it just felt really nice just then.” was your honest reply.  Seeing his concern morph into confusion, “Not that it hasn’t felt nice all along… I don't know… I just really don't know what to expect.”

He kissed you again, increasing his rhythm slightly.  After that, it felt much better.  Suddenly he cried out your name and collapsed limply on top of you.  “I’m sorry Y/N… I couldn’t hold it back any longer.  You just feel so good.” he stammered, rolling off of you, taking care to take the used condom with him.  “Did you get off too?”

Not quite sure how to reply, you decided honesty was the best.  “I don’t know.  I’ve never had an orgasm.  Maybe?”

Hoseok kissed your nose, “If you want… we could do this again sometime.  Ya know… like I could be your boyfriend if you want.”

You cuddled close to him and kissed him on the cheek.  “I’d like that Hobi.  Maybe we could practice some more later.”

“Wait… what?  You want to be my girlfriend?  Like dating and everything?” he brightened, his giant sunshine smile beaming down at you as you gazed up at him from your position on his shoulder.  

“Yeah, I totally mean it.  You’re my best friend and I love you.”

Hoseok could only smile wider.  Kissing the top of your head  as he drew the blanket over the two of you.  He decided that he would do his best to make it much much better for you next time.