#this guy was paralyzed from the stomach down

[anangelbyanothername]

i was telling my bestie about how some guy off grindr sent me like 3 separate cum tributes and then when i finally say his face i was like

“omg you look kinda like moistcritical”

and then he immediately blocked me on everything

[23victoria]

𝔤𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔫 𝔣𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔶

*☾⋆･ﾟ pairings: 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔩𝔢𝔰 𝔩𝔢𝔠𝔩𝔢𝔯𝔠 + 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔩𝔬𝔰 𝔰𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔷 x 𝔣𝔢𝔪!𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

word count:11𝓀

*☾⋆･ﾟ synopsis: paying for sex was a first, but after all, who could blame you? it had been too long, and you deserved to have a little fun too. besides, it was just a straightforward transaction—money for pleasure. what could possibly go wrong? 𝔠𝓌!☠︎ pornstar, escort, pet names, praise kink, rough sex, fingering, oral (f & m), body worship, overstimulation, size kink, belly bulge, dacryphilia, voyeurism/exhibitionism, creampie, face sitting, double penetration, threesome, wax play, blindfolded, anal play/sex, throat fucking, nipple play, begging, aftercare

authors note: i am so sorry is this is complete shit, i struggled with this so much and….yea, i hope it’s good and again i’m sorry likes, asks, and reblogs are appreciated! i hope you enjoy :)

𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔞 𝔟𝔢 𝔞𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔶 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱?! CLICK HERE!

*☾⋆･ﾟ f1 MASTERLIST. KINKThe TOBER MASTERLIST.

The plush carpet muffled your footsteps as you paced the length of the suite, the glass of wine in your hand barely touched. You weren’t here for the wine, after all. The cool rim of the glass pressed against your lip was a distraction, a flimsy attempt to calm the anxiety swirling in your chest. Your reflection caught in the mirror, and you almost rolled your eyes. Dressed in the black lingerie you’d splurged on for the occasion, you looked... ridiculous. Sexy, sure, but ridiculous. Who pays $6k for sex? Apparently, you do.

You snorted, shaking your head at yourself. God, what the hell am I doing here?

The reasoning had seemed airtight at the time. Two years of celibacy after that disaster with your ex—who, naturally, had managed to ruin not just your relationship but your self-esteem too. He'd cheated, and when he left, he took a piece of you with him. Trust, confidence, maybe even desire. All of it was locked away in the aftermath of his betrayal. But you were a grown woman, an adult who could make her own decisions.

I could fuck anyone I want to, right? You thought, half-defending yourself, half-mocking the idea. Right. Except I haven’t. The lingering anxiety had kept you paralyzed, unable to even flirt, let alone let someone close again. So, you made an impulsive choice, one that had you sitting in a five-star hotel, waiting for a stranger.

Not just any stranger, though. The best. That's what the website had promised, and you had researched thoroughly—more than you cared to admit. Every review, every service listed, the options detailed right down to the type of man you could request. It all felt clinical, safe. A transaction.

That’s all this is. A simple transaction. You repeated it like a mantra, hoping the words would settle the knot in your stomach.

But the number—$6,000—echoed louder in your mind. Six grand for sex. You winced, taking another slow sip of wine, trying to justify it again.

He was supposed to be the best, though. The reviews had gushed, the site had practically bragged about how this guy was the epitome of everything you could want: good-looking, professional, discreet. For what they charged, he better be.

But that didn’t stop the anxiety from clawing at your chest. What if you got too stuck in your head? What if, after all of this buildup, the wine and the lingerie and the research, you chickened out? You’d waste his time, your time, and a small fortune on top of it. $6,000. Jesus.

You laughed at the absurdity of it. Of course, I’d make a stupid decision like this.

But the laughter faded quickly, leaving you standing alone in the middle of the suite, your skin buzzing with nerves. What if this doesn’t even help? What if it makes things worse? You pushed the thoughts away, though they clung to the edges of your mind like a fog you couldn’t quite shake off.

The sound of a knock at the door yanked you from your spiraling thoughts. Your heart lurched. You hesitated for a moment before setting your wine glass on the table. With one last glance at yourself in the mirror, you crossed the room and opened the door.

And there he was.

For a split second, your mind went completely blank. Standing in front of you was, hands down, the hottest man you’d ever seen in person. He was just a couple of inches taller than you, with a lean but muscular build that suggested he worked out without being overly bulky. His shirt hugged his chest in all the right ways, and his dark hair was styled effortlessly. You blinked, mouth slightly open, as you tried to take him in.

“Bonsoir,” he greeted, his voice a low rumble laced with the softest French accent. “My companion should be here any moment. Sorry, he’s running late.”

You blinked again, still processing. Fuck. That accent. You were barely listening to what he was saying, too distracted by the smoothness of his voice, the way the words rolled off his tongue with an effortless charm that made your stomach flip. Lord. This man alone was worth the $6k.

But as his words finally registered in your brain, confusion crept in. Companion?

You stared at him, your mind catching up a little too slowly. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, his head tilting as if trying to read your expression. You must’ve looked confused—because you were.

Before you could voice the question on the tip of your tongue, there was another knock at the door.

You froze for a second, then watched as the man—Charles, you assumed—stepped aside to let in whoever was on the other side. And that’s when he walked in.

Another man, just as stunning as the first. His presence hit you like a wave. Taller than Charles, with broad shoulders and an air of confidence that instantly commanded attention. His smile was devilishly handsome, and his dark eyes sparkled with something teasing as he took you in. He introduced himself with a thick, sexy Spanish accent that nearly made your knees buckle.

“I’m Carlos,” he said, his voice so deep it sent a shiver down your spine.

You just stood there, mouth slightly parted, trying to process the fact that two incredibly hot men were now in your hotel room.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The room was quiet, a charged sort of anticipation lingering in the air as you moved about, keeping yourself busy. Both Charles and Carlos stood patiently in front of you, but you were distinctly aware of every glance they exchanged, every slight smile they gave each other. In a weak attempt to fill the silence, you turned to the small minibar by the window, which you’d noticed was stocked with a surprising assortment of wines and liquors.

“Would you guys… like a drink?” you offered, trying to keep your voice steady. “I think there’s some champagne, maybe wine, or even whiskey if you want.”

Charles’s eyes followed your every move, and Carlos leaned back with an amused expression, both men seemingly content to just watch as you babbled on.

“And, um, I got some food, too.” You gestured to the tray of tiny sandwiches and fruit that sat on the table near the window, small bites you’d hoped might keep your nerves in check. “You know, just in case anyone’s hungry. They’re little, so they won’t ruin your appetite, but they’re actually quite good! I mean, the hotel did a great job with the whole presentation thing…”

You trailed off, catching the amused smiles that Charles and Carlos exchanged as you kept talking. Charles raised a brow, and Carlos bit back a laugh, clearly enjoying your rambling. You suddenly felt heat rise to your cheeks and stammered a little as you continued, “I just figured, you know, if we’re going to spend some time here together, it would be good to… um, settle in, I guess?”

Carlos leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed as he watched you with a look that was both patient and playful. He exchanged a knowing glance with Charles, who finally spoke, his soft accent lingering on your name in a way that made you freeze mid-sentence.

“Y/N.”

The sound of it in his French accent, low and smooth, made your heart flutter. You could feel yourself hanging on every syllable, the room somehow feeling even warmer as you turned to face him fully.

“Yes?” you murmured, breath catching in your throat.

He held your gaze, his lips curving up at the corners in a gentle smile. “Breathe, relax.” He reached out and placed a comforting hand on your arm, his fingers warm and reassuring. “What are you nervous about, baby?”

It felt like a dam broke, and before you knew it, the words were spilling out. You hesitated, took a deep breath, and finally, with a tentative glance between them, you spoke. “I… well, it’s just been a long time for me,” you admitted. “I haven’t done anything like this in a couple of years.”

They both nodded, their expressions patient and encouraging, inviting you to go on.

“I was in a relationship,” you continued, voice quieter now. “He cheated on me. It… kind of destroyed me, to be honest.” You offered a small, self-deprecating laugh. “He also had a few choice words to say about me before we ended things. Made me feel… insecure, I guess. Like maybe I wasn’t good enough.”

Charles’s expression shifted instantly, his jaw tightening. “What a fool,” he muttered, clearly unimpressed. “He’s an idiot and a piece of shit for saying any of that to you. You deserve better, you know that, right?”

Carlos nodded in agreement, stepping closer with an intense look that softened when he met your eyes. “He didn’t deserve you, mami. But tonight? We’re making up for those two years, trust us.”

They both looked at you, waiting, not pushing, but you could feel the anticipation building between you. It was like standing on the edge of something exhilarating, and a part of you wanted to let go and trust them. You took a breath, feeling a surge of boldness. What were the odds that two men this stunning would walk into your life again?

“Okay,” you whispered, looking between them, the single word hanging in the air with an almost electric weight. They shared a look, subtle but charged, and then turned back to you.

Charles smiled. “Before we get started, there’s just one more thing. We need a safe word. If you want to stop at any point, if anything feels uncomfortable or just too much, you can say it, and we’ll stop, no questions asked.”

You thought for a moment, rolling the idea around in your head before giving a small smile. “How about… wine?”

Both men chuckled, Carlos’s deep laughter filling the room as he tilted his head. “That’s cute, mami. Okay, ‘wine’ it is. And we’ll use a few more, too—just to make sure you’re always comfortable. Say ‘green’ if you want us to keep going or go a little faster, ‘yellow’ if you want us to slow down, and, of course, ‘red’ if you need us to stop. Sound good?”

You nodded, the nervous flutter in your stomach finally beginning to settle. Carlos smiled warmly, eyes meeting yours. “I need verbal confirmation, mami,” he said, his tone gentle yet firm.

“Yes,” you replied softly. “That sounds good.”

They exchanged another look, a shared understanding passing between them, and then Charles turned to you, his gaze soft but filled with a quiet intensity. He moved closer, settling on the edge of the bed beside you, and lifted a hand to gently stroke a strand of hair away from your face.

“Okay, baby,” he murmured, his voice just above a whisper. “Let’s start.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As you lay back against the silken sheets, your heart raced, caught between excitement and nerves. Charles was so close, his presence enveloping you as he leaned down, brushing his lips against your neck. The sensation sent shivers cascading down your spine, igniting every nerve in your body and causing you to arch instinctively toward him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice deep and sultry, a velvet caress against your skin. Each kiss he placed along your collarbone was tender yet deliberate, a promise that made you melt into the bedding, your body responding to him without reservation.

His mouth traveled down, kissing a path that made you gasp softly, your breath hitching as he lingered at your chest. The warmth of his body hovered over you, and as he pressed his lips against the soft curves of your body, it felt as though the world outside faded away completely. 

“Let me take care of you,” he breathed, his voice low and commanding as he settled between your thighs, looking up at you with an intensity that made your heart race. The anticipation hung in the air, heavy and sweet, as he moved closer.

“Charles…” you whispered, almost pleadingly.

“Trust me,” he replied, and with that, he pulled down your lacy black underwear pressing his finger on your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your veins. The sensation was overwhelming, and you gasped as his fingers slowly entered you, moving in and out slowly. He coaxed you into the rhythm as he curled his finger expertly, finding that spot deep inside you that made you gasp even louder.

“See? There you go,” he praised, his voice smooth and honeyed. “So perfect. So responsive for me baby, hmm.” Each word seemed to seep into your skin, igniting something within you. The room felt alive with the sounds of your breathy moans and the soft rustle of the sheets beneath you.

Charles watched you intently, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he added another finger, stretching you deliciously. “So beautiful,” he breathed, his eyes locked onto yours as he focused solely on you. “You taste so delicious.”

Your cheeks flushed at his words, feeling the heat pool lower in your abdomen as he licked his fingers clean, savoring every drop. The sight of him enjoying you so thoroughly sent another wave of heat through you, your heart racing faster than ever.

“Don’t hold back,” he urged, a low growl escaping his lips as he maintained that intoxicating rhythm. “Let me hear those pretty sounds.”

You could feel yourself spiraling, the pressure building as he curled his fingers deeper, drawing out moans from you. “I… I can’t…” you managed to whimper, the words barely escaping your lips as you trembled beneath him.

“Shh, just let go,” he encouraged, his voice dripping with a mixture of authority and tenderness. “You can do it. I’m right here.”

His confidence flooded through you, and with every thrust of his fingers, the world outside the hotel room faded away completely. You surrendered to the sensations, feeling the tension in your body reaching an unbearable peak. Your vision blurred, and you could feel the heat pooling inside you, ready to explode.

“Charles,” you gasped, feeling the waves of ecstasy start to crash over you. “I’m—”

“Yes, baby, let it happen,” he coaxed, his eyes dark and fierce as he continued his relentless pace. “You’re doing so well.”

With a final curl of his fingers, you came, the pressure bursting as pleasure washed over you in a tidal wave. Your body tensed, trembling beneath him as moans spilled from your lips, each sound wrapping around the dim room like a spell. Charles watched you with an intensity that made your heart race, his fingers never faltering as he helped you ride out the high.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. You floated down from the heights of bliss, feeling both blissfully vulnerable and utterly adored.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, the taste of you lingering between you. As he pulled back slightly, a playful smirk danced on his lips. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

The intimacy of the moment left you breathless, a lingering warmth settling in your chest. You smiled back at him, your cheeks still flushed from pleasure and the glow of the dim light, feeling both exposed and cherished.

But before you could catch your breath, another wave of desire crashed over you, and you felt yourself yearning for more. Charles shifted closer again, his lips brushing against your neck, igniting the fire that still simmered within you. “You’re not done yet, are you?” he teased softly, his breath warm against your skin.

You shook your head slightly, the thought of indulging in this moment with him—and with Carlos, who you knew was still there, waiting, watching, heightening the anticipation—sent a thrill through you. “Let’s see how far we can take this,” he murmured, a wicked glint in his eye as he kissed along your jaw, his lips trailing down your throat.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Carlos broke the tension, his voice low and sultry. “My turn now, mami. Let me taste how sweet you are.”

Before you could fully process his words, Carlos was there, his mouth on yours, and it sent a jolt of electricity straight through your body. His lips were warm and inviting as they enveloped you, and the sensation was overwhelming. You gasped, when he pulled away, kissing his way down your body until he’s between your thighs, your hands instinctively finding their way into his hair, gripping tightly as he teased you.

His tongue flicked expertly against your clit, sucking and biting, driving you wild. Each swirl of his tongue sent shockwaves of pleasure rippling through you, building on the lingering sensations from Charles. “Oh, fuck Carlos…” you moaned, your back arching slightly, the pleasure making your heart race.

“Fuck, baby, that’s hot,” Charles muttered, his eyes dark with desire as he watched Carlos work his magic. The sight of your pleasure fueled him, and you could feel the heat radiating off both men, the intensity of the moment heightening every sensation.

Carlos wasn’t holding back; he was relentless, his mouth moving skillfully as he worked your clit, driving you further into ecstasy. And when his tongue plunged in and out of your warmth, every movement made you whimper, the sound escaping you before you could catch it.

“God, yes…” you breathed, your hips instinctively rolling against his mouth, seeking more, needing more. The world around you blurred, and it was just you and the exquisite sensations you were feeling.

“Ride my face, mami,” he groaned against you, the vibration of his voice sending an additional thrill through your body. You obliged, moving to sit on his face, your hands on the headboard as you instinctively moved to grind against him, the pleasure building higher and higher.

“Ohh, fuck,” you yelped, feeling the tight coil in your abdomen beginning to unravel. The waves of pleasure crashed over you, and you felt your body respond, shaking under the intensity as you approached the precipice of your next orgasm.

Carlos continued his relentless assault, slipping three fingers inside you, and you moaned loudly at the feeling, pulling his hair tight, urging him on. “Yes! Just like that,” you gasped, the combination of his fingers and mouth driving you wild. “P-please don’t stop!”

And he didn’t, his mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. As he inserted a fourth finger, the sensation was overwhelming. You felt yourself teetering on the brink, ready to plunge into that sweet abyss of pleasure.

“Carlos! I’m gonna—” you gasped, feeling your body tensing, the waves crashing around you.

“Let go, mami. I got you,” he encouraged, his voice deep and sultry as he lapped at you hungrily. At those words, your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping and shaking, your body writhing under him.

Carlos didn’t stop; he continued to eat you out through the waves of your orgasm, each thrust of his fingers and flick of his tongue sending aftershocks through your body. “Oh my God, Carlos!” you cried, feeling the intensity of it all consume you.

“Fuck mami, you taste so good,” he murmured against your sensitive skin as he licked you clean, his eyes filled with a mix of awe and lust. “I could stay in between these sexy thighs of yours all day.”

Completely breathless, your body a trembling mess of pleasure, as you basked in the aftermath of everything. Carlos finally pulled away, leaving you dazed and reeling from the intensity of what just happened. Your legs felt like jelly, and you were sure you’d lost all sense of reality for a moment.

Charles chuckled softly, clearly entertained as he watched you come down from your high. “I’d say that’s a successful start,” he teased, his voice filled with satisfaction.

You managed a breathy laugh, your heart racing as you looked between the two of them. “You two… wow.”

Carlos grinned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Just wait until you see what else we can do, mami.”

Charles leaned closer, a playful spark in his gaze. “What do you think, baby? Are you ready for more?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I think I’m ready,” you said softly, your voice steady and filled with determination.

Charles’s eyes lit up, and Carlos’s smirk widened. “Good,” Charles replied, his tone sultry. “Because we’re just getting started.”

“Close your eyes, mami,” Carlos said, his voice a deep, seductive whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You hesitated, a flicker of doubt creeping in. “Wait, what? Why?”

“Do you trust us?” His tone was confident, teasing yet soothing, coaxing you into submission.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you like a warm blanket. This was all new territory, a blend of exhilaration and trepidation. “Yes,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. You closed your eyes, surrendering to whatever they had in store for you.

You heard a soft sound, like fabric ripping, and your heart raced as you felt something cool and smooth wrap around your eyes. The realization hit you: they had blindfolded you. The world around you shifted into a haze, every sound amplified, every sensation heightened. You could feel the heat radiating from both men as they surrounded you, their presence both comforting and electrifying.

“Just relax, mami,” Carlos murmured, and you felt him lay down beside you. His lips found your skin, kissing up along your breasts, his mouth moving with deliberate care as he bit and licked, teasing you into a frenzy.

A soft moan escaped your lips, involuntarily. The sensation was exquisite, a mix of pleasure and delicious anticipation, your body arching towards him, craving more.

As his mouth worked its magic, you felt another warmth against your thighs, a slow, deliberate caress. “You’re so sexy, baby,” the voice said, and you realized it was Charles. His breath was hot against your skin, teasingly close but never quite touching.

Your heart raced, the anticipation leaving you trembling. They were both here, right next to you, guiding you into a world where your senses reigned supreme. You felt someone’s hands travel up your thighs, moving closer to your core, teasing you. “You like that?” Charles asked, his voice deep and low, sending another shiver down your spine.

“Y-yes…” you gasped, biting your lip as the sensations heightened. You could feel the tension in the air, thick and charged with unspoken promises.

“Let’s make this even more fun, shall we?” Carlos said, his voice low and seductive.

Suddenly, you felt warm wax drip onto your stomach, and the sensation made you gasp, your body instinctively reacting to the heat. “What are you doing?” you managed to stutter, a mixture of excitement and fear flooding through you.

“Just trust us, mami,” Carlos cooed. “You’ll love it.”

As he leaned down to kiss the area right next to the wax, the contrast between the heat of the wax and the coolness of his mouth was intoxicating. He pressed gentle kisses along your skin, creating a delicious tension that left you breathless.

The moment felt electric. With every kiss and caress, you surrendered a little more, letting them guide you deeper into this world of pleasure. Carlos’s fingers lightly traced your clit, teasing you, while Charles’s kisses grew more passionate, sloppy and eager on your mouth.

Suddenly, you felt Carlos’s fingers slip lower, just brushing against your asshole. A sharp gasp escaped you as he continued to tease you, working you into a frenzy. “You’re doing so well, baby,” he praised, his tone dripping with lust. “Just let go and enjoy.”

The tension built inside you, a knot of anticipation tightening with every flick of his fingers. You could feel your body responding instinctively, the heat pooling low in your stomach. “Carlos…” you moaned, your heart racing as he continued to tease you.

Then, with deliberate slowness, Carlos pressed his finger inside you stretching you and making you squirm. “Shhh,” he soothed, as you felt the slight burn of being filled. “Just relax, mami. It’ll feel good, I promise.”

You could hardly process the pleasure coursing through you as he added a second finger, moving in and out, stretching you just right. “Oh, fuck!” you gasped, your body arching into him as the sensation intensified.

“That’s it,” Carlos murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “So good for me, mami.”

Charles, ever watchful, leaned closer, kissing you more deeply, coaxing your tongue to dance with his. You melted into the kiss, feeling utterly consumed by them both. The combination of their touches was intoxicating, and you surrendered completely, losing yourself in the pleasure.

“Three fingers now,” Carlos warned, and your breath hitched in anticipation. He pushed a third finger inside you, and your body quivered, an involuntary moan escaping you as the sensation hit you like a bolt of lightning. The stretch was exquisite, a heady mix of pleasure and slight discomfort that made your heart race even faster.

“That’s it, mami,” Carlos coaxed, his fingers curling just right inside you. “You’re taking it so well.”

Charles pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes, his expression a mix of admiration and lust. “You’re incredible,” he said, breathless.

The combination of their praises and the sensations swirling around you was almost too much. You felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, ready to plunge into that sweet release. “I’m—” you began, but Carlos cut you off.

“Not yet, baby,” he said, his tone firm yet playful. “I want you to feel every second.”

And with that, he began to move his fingers in a rhythmic, deliberate motion, curling and pressing against your most sensitive spot, coaxing you closer and closer to that edge. You couldn’t help but moan louder, your body betraying you as you let yourself slip into the abyss of pleasure. “Please, Carlos… I can’t hold on much longer.”

“Good,” he replied with a smirk, clearly enjoying the control he had over you. “That’s exactly where I want you.”

Charles leaned in closer again, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, deepening the sensation and pulling you even further into the haze. You felt your body quivering, the heat coiling tightly in your belly as Carlos continued his movements, the rhythm building higher and higher.

With a final thrust of Carlos’s fingers, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave, intense and consuming. You cried out, your body trembling as pleasure surged through you, leaving you breathless.

“Fuck, yes,” Carlos said, his fingers continuing to work you through your release, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from you. You could feel his excitement radiating, and your heart raced with the intensity of it all.

“Perfect, mami,” he murmured, kissing your thighs softly as you came down from the high.

You lay there, utterly spent, but also electrified. Charles and Carlos exchanged knowing glances, clearly pleased with how you had responded.

“Are you okay, mami?” Carlos asked, his tone softening as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

“Yeah,” you breathed, trying to catch your breath. 

"That’s good baby. Are you ready?" Charles murmurs, his accent wrapping around each word. You nod, and he gives a small, reassuring smile, waiting for your permission as he begins slowly pushing himself into you, the sudden stretch making your back arch off the bed as you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

He’s patient, attentive, and entirely focused on you, each movement deliberate and giving you the time to adjust to his size. The slow, steady rhythm of his thrusts pulls you in, allowing you to relax into the experience. Feeling bolder, you breathe out, “More.”

Charles raises an eyebrow, smirking slightly as if surprised, but a spark lights his gaze. “What was that, baby?” he teases softly, his voice playful, inviting.

“Faster, please,” you manage, giving in to the sensation. His grin widens, satisfied. And as he begins to deepen his thrusts as he moves faster. 

Charles’s pace was relentless, every thrust deeper and harder than the last, driving you closer and closer to the edge. Your back arches, your fingers gripping the sheets as your body moves with his. His hands grip your waist firmly, pulling you closer to him as he pounds into you, the room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and the breathless gasps escaping your lips.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” Charles groans. His pace doesn’t slow, his body moving with precision and force. You can feel your orgasm building, the tension winding tighter with every thrust until it feels like you’re going to break.

“Damn, mami. You look so pretty like that,” he murmurs, his gaze smoldering. “Look at that face, those lips… I love those lips,” he says, leaning closer until he’s right by your head. “So beautiful. Open up that sweet mouth for me, please.”

Your eyes meet his, filled with desire, and you nod, parting your lips invitingly.

parting your lips as Carlos slides his cock into your mouth, his grip firm but gentle on your throat as he begins to fuck it. The sensation of being filled from both ends sends your mind spiraling, the overwhelming pressure making it impossible to think of anything but the pleasure consuming you.

Charles’s pace quickens, his grip on your hips tightening as he continues to fuck you relentlessly. Your moans are muffled around Carlos’s cock, but you can feel the vibrations from your sounds as they travel through your throat. The weight of it all—the fullness, the pleasure, the intensity—has you clawing at Charles’s thighs, trying to ground yourself, but it’s futile.

“So sexy,” Carlos praises, his voice rough as he thrusts into your mouth, his grip on your neck keeping you in place. “Doing so good mami… taking both of us like this.”

The praise only spurs you on, even as your body threatens to give in to the intensity of it all. Your mind is foggy, lost in the pleasure as Charles hits that spot inside you that has your toes curling, a rush of heat surging through your core. The tension in your body snaps, and before you know it, you’re coming hard around his dick, your thighs tightening around him as waves of pleasure crash through you.

Charles doesn’t slow down. He continues to fuck you through your orgasm, each thrust pulling more pleasure out of you until you’re trembling, your body a mess of overstimulation. Carlos’s hand moves to pull your hair, holding you steady as his cock moves deeper into your throat. You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the overstimulation but the heat between the three of you only intensifies.

Your body shakes with the aftershocks of your orgasm, but Charle’s fast pace pushes you toward the edge again. His grip tightens on your hips, as he moves faster before he pulls out realising on your stomach.  

Carlos’s thrusts grow erratic, and with one final one, he comes down your throat, his groans mixing with Charles’s. You swallow easily, the warmth of him filling your mouth.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’re still reeling from the intensity of your orgasm when you hear Charles's low voice. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he says, his tone sultry and full of admiration. “But I think it’s time for us to give you a taste of something truly unforgettable.”

Carlos looks at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You ready for that, mami? We’re going to take care of you.” His confidence radiates, and you feel that familiar flutter of excitement mixed with nervous anticipation.

“W-What do you mean?” you ask, your breath still shaky from the pleasure they’ve already given you.

“We want to show you just how good it can be when you let go completely,” Charles explains, moving closer, his body brushing against yours, making you acutely aware of every part of him. “You’re going to feel incredible, I promise.”

“You can handle us,” Carlos says, and your heart races. 

“Okay,” you reply softly, feeling a surge of warmth at their reassurance. 

“Good girl,” Charles praises again, his voice rich with affection. You hear the sound of movement, and you can only guess at what they’re doing. Then, you feel the bed shift as both of them position themselves closer to you.

“Now, let’s have some fun,” Carlos murmurs. You feel his warm hands on your thighs, gently pushing them apart, and your pulse quickens as anticipation builds.

“Are you ready for us, baby?” Charles asks, his voice husky and low. You nod, your breath catching in your throat as you feel the heat radiating from both of them.

“Remember, you can say the safe word at any time,” Carlos reminds you. “Just relax and let us take control.”

“Okay,” you whisper, feeling both excitement and a hint of nerves. “I’m ready.”

You feel one of them—Charles, you think—kissing along your thighs, slowly moving closer to your center, while Carlos positions himself at your ass. You can feel the heat from his body, the weight of him above you, and it makes your heart race even faster.

“Don’t worry, mami,” Carlos says, leaning down to brush his lips against yours. “I’ve got you.” You can taste the sweetness of his breath, and it ignites something primal within you.

As Charles starts kissing your folds, you gasp, the sensation sending ripples of pleasure coursing through your body. “So responsive,” he praises, his voice muffled against you. “I can feel how much you want this.”

You arch your back instinctively, craving more of the delicious sensation. “Charles!” you moan, the name slipping from your lips as he devours you, his tongue flicking expertly over your sensitive clit.

“More, baby?” he asks, teasingly slow. You can hear the smile in his voice, the confidence that makes you feel safe.

“Yes. Please!” you gasp, urging him on.

Just then, you feel Carlos’s mouth on yours, his kiss deepening as he leans in closer. Charles, the pressure inside you builds again, and you feel your body responding instinctively. Carlos pulls away just enough to let you catch your breath. “I want you to look at me while we do this,” he says, his dark eyes locking onto yours, filled with a heat that makes your skin tingle.

You nod, focusing on him, even as you feel Charles continuing to work his magic below. The two of them are a perfect harmony of pleasure, each taking you higher as they share their attention. Then you feel it, the burning stretch as Carlos’s dick enters your ass. You can’t help but moan “Oh fuck!” at the sensation, feeling him fill you up so deeply in parts that never been touched before. The world outside fades away, leaving just the three of you, locked in a moment of raw ecstasy.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Carlos urges softly, watching you intently as he thrusts in and out of you slowly, his fingers griping your ass, as he works to increase the pace.

“Can you feel how good that is?” Charles asks, looking up at you, his dark eyes filled with mischief and desire. “I want to see you come again. Show me how much you want it.”

“Oh fuck! Too much!!” you cry, feeling another wave of pleasure crash over you. The combination of his movements, the way Carlos is fucking you, it all blends into a perfect storm of sensation that’s utterly overwhelming.

“Yeah, just like that, baby. I love those sounds,” he says, his voice sultry and encouraging, and you can hear the excitement in his tone.

“More, please,” you beg, your body writhing against the sheets as you surrender to the pleasure.

Charles moves to lay in front of you, his hands moving your leg to lay over his waist as you feel his dick enter your pussy. Not expecting that, you yelp. “Charles!” The initial thrusts are slow, giving you a moment to adjust, but the sensation is still overwhelming. You feel every inch of them as they slide in and out of you, each movement perfectly synchronized. It’s too much, too intense, and yet you can’t stop the moans spilling from your lips.

As their pace quickens, your body gives in to the pleasure, the overwhelming fullness pushing you toward another climax. You try to hold on, but the sensation is too much. “Oh fuck,” you gasp, your voice barely holding together as they both pound into you. “It’s too much… I can’t…”

 “You’re such a good girl for us,” Carlos praises, his pace relentless as he pounds your ass.

“Come for us, mami,” Carlos urges, his voice deep and throaty. “We want to feel you around our cocks.”

You can’t hold back any longer; the sensations are too intense, too beautiful to resist. “Oh, oh fuck” you cry, your body arching as pleasure overwhelms you, a wave crashing over you that leaves you gasping for breath.

They don't stop, their pace quickens, thrusting in and out of you even faster, fucking you through your orgasm, driving you further into ecstasy. “That’s it, baby. So beautiful,” he praises, his voice filled with desire. 

As you ride the waves of your release, you feel Carlos leaning in, kissing you softly, his lips warm and inviting. “You’re so perfect,” he murmurs against your mouth, and you can feel the heat of his body against yours, adding to the delicious tension.

“Can you handle more?” Charles asks, a wicked smile on his lips as he watches you with dark, hungry eyes.

You nod, feeling that familiar heat igniting again. “Yes, I want more,” you breathe, craving both of them in ways you never knew possible.

“Alright, let’s give you what you want,” Carlos grins, moving to position himself behind you while Charles remains at your front, his dick still buried inside you.

You can feel Carlos adjusting himself behind you, the anticipation making your heart race. “Are you ready, mami?” he asks, his voice a deep growl that sends shivers down your spine.

Yes,” you whisper, your body aching for their touch.

“Good,” he replies, and then you feel him moving closer, pressing against you, the weight of him enveloping you. “Just relax for me, okay? We’ll take care of you.”

With that, he gently slides into you against Charles's cock, filling and stretching you in a way that you've never experienced before, sending a jolt of pleasure and pain through your body. “Oh my God!” you scream, the sensation overwhelming as both of them stretch you beyond your limits. 

“Just breathe, mami,” Carlos whispers, his voice soothing yet filled with desire. “We’re going to make you feel so good.”

Charles leans in, capturing your lips with his, the kiss deepening as you feel Carlos thrusting behind you, his movements slow and deliberate, each thrust pushing you further into bliss.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Charles praises, his voice low and sultry against your lips. “Just let go and feel everything.”

You’re too full, your body overstimulated, your mind unable to process the sheer intensity of both of them stretching you. Pounding into you at the same time, the feeling is indescribable, leaving you on the edge of tears as your body adjusts to the fullness. Every inch of you feels like it’s on fire, and yet, you crave more.

You nod, surrendering to the sensations as they both take you higher, your body responding instinctively to their every touch. Carlos grunts, quickening his pace behind you while Charles continues his relentless pace too as he kisses you deeply, every brush of his lips igniting sparks within you. 

With each thrust, you can feel the pressure building again, your body teetering on the edge. “I’m so close!” you cry. As their pace quickens, your body gives in to the pleasure, the overwhelming fullness pushing you toward another climax, the sensation is too much. The pressure builds again, stronger this time as their movements become more urgent. Both of them drilling in and out of you leaving you in a blissful fucked state. 

“Come for us, baby,” Charles urges, his voice a low whisper filled with desire. “We want to see you fall apart.”

With a final thrust from them both, the wave crashes over you, and you scream out in ecstasy, your body shaking as pleasure washes over you completely.

“That’s it, mami! So sexy, fuck!” Carlos praises, thrusting into you as you ride out your orgasm, the world fading into a haze of bliss.

Charles looks at you with that wicked smile. “You’re incredible,” he whispers, and you feel your heart swell with warmth and desire.

As you come down from your high, you realize that you’ve never felt more alive than in this moment with them.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As the aftershocks of your intense release begin to fade, you nestle comfortably between Charles and Carlos, feeling a comforting warmth envelop you. The dim lighting of the hotel room casts a soft glow, highlighting the contours of their bodies as they lean in close, their breaths mingling in the sultry air.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Charles asks, his voice low and filled with genuine concern. He studies your face, searching for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. There’s something tender in his gaze, making your heart flutter unexpectedly.

You nod, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. “I’m more than okay,” you reply, a smile breaking across your face. “That was... amazing.”

Carlos chuckles, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “We aim to please, mami.” He shifts slightly, pulling you closer to him, and you can’t help but revel in the sensation of being sandwiched between two incredibly attractive men.

As Charles gets up to get the warm cloth, Carlos remains beside you, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your thigh. “You’re still shaking still,” he observes, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Honestly, I’ve never felt anything like that before,” you admit, your cheeks flushing at the memory of the pleasure you just experienced. “It was overwhelming.”

Carlos nods, his expression softening. “That’s completely normal, mami. Just take your time. You did an amazing job.” His voice is warm and reassuring, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

Charles returns with the cloth, a bottle of water, and some snacks, pouring a glass for each of you. “You were perfect, baby,” he says, laying back down next to you, a satisfied smile on his face.

You snuggle between them, your heart swelling with gratitude and affection as their presence envelops you.

*☾⋆･ﾟ taglist! @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ronpho @minekarina @aeongism @formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa @f1updates4you @booksandflowrs @chaostudee @winkev1 @strawblueberrys @blakesbearblog @cel-be @perfumejamal @aykxz98 @pandora-08 @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @demyackerman @poppyflower-22 @danieldaviddarren33 @oledoledoffen @jimcarreyfann42 @acesbakery @oliviah-25 @goldenroutledge @matcha—-matcha @unkownmystery_22 @sophienorris @armystay89 @tellybearryyyy @magixpracticality @eoduuung @danieldaviddarren33 @flowerpetalk

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[mattyriddlesbitch]

Paralyzed

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Warnings: Cussing, Mattheo being an idiot

I know this is off of my normal schedule, but I finally got to my pc, so have this fic I wrote a few days ago.

You, you walked into the room

On a Friday afternoon

That's when I saw you for the first time

And I was paralyzed

Mattheo was in the library with a few of his friends, not even studying anymore. They were messing around, talking and laughing, drawing on their parchment, throwing things at each other. But they were in a rather secluded corner of the library, so they weren't bothering everyone.

Movement in his peripheral vision caught Mattheo's attention. He turned his head to see you looking through one of the aisles of books. He had never seen you before. You were gorgeous and it had Mattheo sitting up straight, fixing his hair and tuning out the other boys.

The other boys didn't take much notice, Mattheo would tune out and stare off into space sometimes, so they didn't give it much thought.

He watched as you tried to grab a book off a shelf a bit higher than you could reach. His first thought was to go over and help you, but his body wouldn't move. Like he was…nervous?

You felt your pockets, presumably for your wand, but you forgot it and sighed, pouting slightly for a second before turning to their table. Mattheo quickly looked away as you walked over.

“Can one of you guys help me? I can't reach a book I need and I forgot my wand.” You asked the table sweetly and it had Mattheo's stomach fluttering with how sweet your voice was to him.

I had a million things to say

But none of them came out that day

'Cause I was never one of those guys

That always had the best lines

Mattheo wanted to say ‘yes’ and help you, but the words died in his throat as he opened his mouth, and now his mouth felt suddenly dry.

“Of course, (Y/N).” Enzo said as he stood up with that stupid charming smile of his.

That prick led you back to the book with a hand on your back.

Mattheo slumped back in his seat as he watched you smile back at Lorenzo, thanking him for grabbing the book for you before walking away from him. Enzo came back to the table, sitting back down.

Time stopped ticking

My hands keep shaking

And you don't even know that

“Who is that?” Mattheo asked him after you disappeared out of view.

Enzo smiled, catching on immediately. “That's (Y/N). They're in one of my classes. They're very sweet.”

“I've never seen them before.” Mattheo said, looking back to where you disappeared for a moment before looking back down to his drawing on his parchment, pretending to be interested in drawing again.

I try to speak, but girl you got me tongue-tied

I try to breathe but I'm f-f-f-frozen inside

I try to move but I'm stuck in my shoes

You got me paralyzed, paralyzed, p-p-p-paralyzed

I see you walking, but all you do is pass me by

Can't even talk, 'cause words don't come into my mind

I'd make a move if I had the guts to

But I'm paralyzed, paralyzed, p-p-p-paralyzed

Enzo and Theo took the initiative to introduce you two. They invited you to one of their parties, where the boys were all at now.

Theo was the first one to spot you when you arrived. He left the group to talk to you, smiling, trying to charm you to follow him over to the group. You gladly followed him and Mattheo spotted the two of you coming over and quickly sat up straight in the chair he was lounging in, putting out the cigarette he was smoking on the table in front of him.

Theodore quickly introduced you to everyone who didn't know you, saving Mattheo for last.

You smiled at him. “Hi, Mattheo.” You said and damn, if your voice wasn't the sweetest thing he ever heard, especially the way you said his name.

He opened his mouth to say ‘hi’ back but it came out super quiet.

“Are you alright?” You asked him when you couldn't hear him over the music.

His mouth felt all dry again, so he just nodded.

Now I learned a lot from my mistake

Never let a good thing slip away

I've had a lot of time to look back

And my only regret is

Not telling you what I was going through

But you didn't even know that

I try to speak but girl you got me tongue-tied

I try to breathe but I'm f-f-f-frozen inside

I try to move but I'm stuck in my shoes

You got me paralyzed, paralyzed, p-p-p-paralyzed

You talked with the group, smiling and laughing at what they said. Mattheo was quiet, looking over at you whenever you laughed and spoke up. He wanted to make you laugh so bad, but he was finding it difficult to talk with you there.

How was everyone else talking to you so calmly?

He was going to have to look for a spell or potion to help him with this weird feeling around you.

As soon as you walked away to go talk to some of your friends, Theo hit him in the back of the head.

“Ow, what the fuck was that for?” Mattheo said, rubbing the spot Theo hit.

“Why didn’t you talk to them?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because you were ogling them in the library a few days ago. We thought you liked them!” Enzo spoke up, throwing his hands in the air.

Mattheo scoffed. “I said ‘hi’.”

“Fucking idiot.” The two boys rolled their eyes.

I see you walking, but all you do is pass me by

Can't even talk, 'cause words don't come into my mind

I'd make a move if I had the guts to

But I'm paralyzed, paralyzed, p-p-p-paralyzed

The party didn't help at all and now you probably thought he was weird for how quiet he was. He was so stupid, just looking at you and smiling, sometimes laughing at what you said. And fuck, you were so funny and smart to him, it made it all worse. He felt like an idiot next to you.

He saw you around the castle more. Maybe he did see you in passing sometimes, but now he actually noticed you. He saw you walking with your friends between classes and he wanted to say ‘hi’, let you know he acknowledges you, at least.

But you'd see him first and give him a bright smile and all the thoughts in his head disappeared. It was like he forgot how to speak around you. So he would give a small nod before hurrying away to wherever he was going.

Merlin, why was he such an idiot?

As the years go by I think about you all the time, whoa

If I get the chance I hope I won't be paralyzed, paralyzed by you

You walked into the room

On a Friday afternoon

It had been a few months of this dynamic. You being your sweet self, hanging out with him and his friends more, and him barely speaking but smiling and laughing.

The other boys caught on and would question him, but he'd always refuse to answer, even though the boys already knew the problem.

You made him flustered. You made him shy.

And the boys ate it up every time, enjoying seeing their normally loud, obnoxious, and confident friend turn into a shy, stuttering mess around you.

I try to speak but girl you got me tongue-tied

Only problem was, you took it the opposite way.

I try to breathe but I'm f-f-f-frozen inside

I try to move but I'm stuck in my shoes

You got me paralyzed, paralyzed, p-p-p-paralyzed (you got me paralyzed)

I see you walking, but all you do is pass me by

Can't even talk, 'cause words don't come into my mind

I'd make a move if I had the guts to

But I'm paralyzed, paralyzed, p-p-p-paralyzed (you got me paralyzed)

Mattheo was smoking in the courtyard with Theo while Enzo was sitting by them, all three talking and messing around.

You noticed them. You always noticed how Mattheo was a lot louder and more playful when you weren't around. It made you feel like he didn't like you.

If only you knew it was quite the opposite.

You finally walked over to them, your shoes clicking on the pavement as you approached, making them all look over to you, but your eyes were only on Mattheo.

His eyes went wide when he realized that, watching you walk up to him until you were a few feet away from him.

“Do you hate me?” You asked him, ignoring the other two boys.

He let out a nervous laugh. “Wh-what?”

“Do you hate me? You, like, never talk to me. It's always short answers. You won't even say ‘hi’ to me when we pass each other in the halls. Why?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

He tried getting some words out, stumbling over the syllables before clearing his throat. “I-I don't-I don't hate you. I just-I mean, um…” Shit, his mouth went dry again.

“Mattheo. Can you just answer me for once?” You said.

Paralyzed, paralyzed, you got me tongue-tied

Paralyzed, paralyzed, now I'm frozen inside

Paralyzed, paralyzed

You got me paralyzed, paralyzed, p-p-p-paralyzed

His head dropped and you could hear a small ‘fuck’ under his breath before he sighed, looking back up at you again. “I…I don't hate you. I just…” He looked around, sighing out his nose again. “I…like you.” The way he said it seemed like he was having a hard time saying it.

“You like me?” You repeated.

“I just mean, I don't hate you. I-I think you're sweet.” He said, finally looking back at you.

“You think I'm sweet?” You asked, smiling ever so slightly.

That small smile had him blushing and looking back down.

“Yeah.” His eyes flickered up to you briefly before looking back at the cigarette burning in his hand.

“That's all I wanted to know.” You said before smiling a little more. “Have fun, boys.” You said before practically skipping away.

Mattheo watched you walk away, opening his mouth to stop you before shutting it with a groan.

The two other boys laughed at him and he rolled his eyes.

“Shut up.” He said before taking another puff of his cigarette.

[thronesaccido]

TF141 x Suicidal Reader

Pairing: TF141 x Reader (Kyle, Simon, Price)

TW: suicidal Ideation, Hurt/comfort, Angst,

a/n: its been so long since I've written anything, so i hope you guys enjoy.

Kyle (Gaz) - The Rooftop

Kyle had always been the one to see the silver lining, the one to make light of any situation, no matter how dark. but with you, those clouds had grown heavier, the weight pressing down on him everyday as he watched you drift further away. he knew something was wrong, he wasn't blind to the shadows that darkened your eyes or the silence that followed you like a shroud. But every time he asked, you gave him that tired smile that said “ I’m fine”.

He wanted to believe you. God, how he wanted to believe you. but tonight, when he came back to find the apartment empty, he knew something was terribly wrong, his heart raced as he searched the rooms, calling out your name, the sound echoing back into hollow emptiness.

Then he saw it. The door to the rooftop slightly ajar.

Fear gripped him like a vice, cold and paralyzing, as he bolted for the stairs. his own fear of heights clawed at him, the memory of falling, of plummeting from that helicopter, helpless, waiting for the ground to claim him, Flashing behind his eyes. But none of that mattered now. Not if you were up there.

When he burst onto the rooftop, his breath caught in his throat. You were standing at the edge, Your back to him, Your arms hanging limp at your sides. The streetlights below cast long shadows, the wind tugging at your clothes, and for a second, You looked so still, like you might already be gone

“No.” Kyle breathed, panic flooding his chest “Love..”

You didn't turn. Didn't even flinch

His hands shook as he stepped closer, but each movement felt like walking through quicksand. His Voice was raw with desperation “Darling, please. Please, don’t do this.”

You tilted your head slightly, your gaze fixed on the drop below. Your voice, when you finally spoke, was barely a whisper. “I’m so tired, Kyle. I don’t know how to keep going.”

Those words, so simple and broken, shattered something deep inside him. he swallowed against the lump forming in his throat, his own panic mixing with the rising nausea from the height. “I know, baby. I know you’re tired. But we can figure this out, together. Just step back, please. come back to me.”

You shook your head, and he saw your shoulders tremble. “ I don't know how to keep fighting. I don't have anything left.”

“You have me!” Kyles voice cracked, his fear giving away to raw emotion. “You have me, Love! I’ll be there with you through all of it, I swear. Just… just take my hand please.”

Your sobs reached his ears, and for a moment, you swayed dangerously close to the edge. Kyle’s heart dropped to his stomach, his legs trembling beneath him. “No! Please, Love, don’t! I can’t lose you!”

Slowly, you turned your tear-streaked face toward him, and for the first time, he saw the full weight of your pain. it nearly broke him. He stretched out his hand, barely able to keep it steady. “Come back to me,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I need you”

You looked down once more, as if weighing your options, and then, as if deciding, you reached for his hand. your fingers, cold and fragile, slid into his, and Kyle wasted no time pulling you away from the ledge, into his arms. He held you tightly, feeling your sobs shake your body against his chest, and he didn’t care about anything else in that moment.

"I’ve got you," he whispered, his voice thick with tears he refused to let fall. "I’ve got you, baby. You’re safe now."

But deep down, Kyle knew this was far from over. He had you in his arms, but your battle had only just begun—and so had his.

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

Simon (Ghost) - The Gun

Simon Riley had known fear. Real fear. The kind that sunk its teeth into your flesh and never let go. He’d seen men die, seen families torn apart, seen his own life reduced to ashes in the blink of an eye. But none of it compared to the fear that gripped him now as he stood in the doorway of your bedroom, staring at you, sitting on the floor with a gun in your lap.

His breath caught in his throat, his entire body freezing as his mind screamed at him to do something, anything. But for the first time in a long time, Simon didn’t know what to do. He felt completely and utterly powerless.

“love” He croaked, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears, You didn’t move. Didn't even flinch. Your eyes were fixated on the gun, your fingers trembling as they traced the metal. “….What are you doing?”

You finally looked up at him, Your eyes red and swollen from crying. He’d never seen you like this before, so broken, so… defeated. And it scared him in a way he hadn’t been scared since he was a boy.

"I can’t do this anymore, Simon," You whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. "I’m tired. I’m just… so tired."

His heart shattered at your words, and suddenly, he was back there, back in the room with his mother, holding her hand as she slipped away, powerless to stop it. He couldn’t let that happen again. He couldn’t lose you the same way.

"Please," he said, his voice raw and desperate as he slowly crouched down, not daring to make any sudden movements. "You don’t have to do this. We can figure this out. I’m here. I’ll always be here."

You shook your head, your tears falling faster. "You don’t get it, Simon. You don’t understand. I can’t keep fighting like this. I can’t keep pretending I’m okay."

His chest tightened painfully, and he clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay calm. "You don’t have to pretend, love. Not with me. You can tell me anything."

Your gaze dropped back to the gun, your fingers tightening around the grip. "It’s too much. I just want it to stop. I want the pain to stop."

Simon’s heart was pounding so loudly in his ears he could barely think. All he knew was that he couldn’t let you do this. He couldn’t let you go. Not you. Not you. "Please," he begged, his voice breaking. "Please don’t do this. I can’t—"

His voice cracked, the lump in his throat making it impossible to finish. "I can’t lose you, Love. You’re the only thing… the only good thing in my life."

Your sobs grew louder, and Simon felt the panic rise in his chest. He had to stop this. He had to. Without thinking, he lunged forward, knocking the gun from your hands before pulling you into his arms. You fought him at first, weakly pounding your fists against his chest, but then you collapsed, your body going limp as you sobbed into his shirt.

Simon held you tightly, his own tears falling silently as he rocked you back and forth, whispering reassurances that felt hollow even to his own ears.

"I’m here," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I’m here, love. You’re not alone. Not anymore."

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

Captain Price - The Pills

The day had dragged on, filled with endless reports and decisions that weighed heavily on Captain John Price’s shoulders. But the moment he stepped into your shared home, a chilling silence enveloped him. “Love?” he called, hoping for your warm smile or the comforting scent of your cooking. Instead, only stillness answered, and an unsettling dread settled in his stomach.

He hurried toward the bedroom, his heart racing. The sight that greeted him felt like a punch to the gut: you slumped against your bed, surrounded by scattered pill bottles. Time froze, and panic surged through him like ice water. “No, no, no!” he gasped, dropping to his knees beside you.

He shook you gently, desperately trying to wake you. “What have you done?”

Your eyes fluttered open, but they were dull and unfocused. A weak, tremulous smile flickered across your lips, but it quickly faded. “John… hurts,” you barely managed to whisper, your voice raspy and weak. The sight of you, so fragile and weak, shattered his heart into pieces.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded, fear and desperation flooding his tone. He reached for a nearby pill bottle and his heart sank as he read the label: Oxycodone. “Why didn’t you say anything? You don’t have to handle this alone!”

You blinked slowly, struggling to stay conscious. Your body trembled slightly as you tried to sit up, but you only slumped further down, gasping for breath. “Just wanted… it to stop,” You murmured, and the weight of your pain hit him like a freight train.

“No!” he shouted, panic rising in his chest. “You’re not alone! I’m here! You’re my wife, and I love you!” He fumbled for his phone, his hands shaking as he dialled for an ambulance, his mind racing with fear.

“Stay with me, Lovie” he urged, squeezing your hand tightly. “Help is coming. I need you to hold on!”

But as your eyes began to close again, his heart raced. “No, please, don’t do this. You’re too strong for this!”

You didn’t respond, your breathing shallow as consciousness slipped away. “Sweetheart! Stay with me!” he begged, his voice cracking. The ambulance sirens wailed in the distance, and he felt a mix of fear and helplessness as he tried to keep you focused on him.

As the medics arrived and burst through the door, Price stepped back, his heart pounding in his chest. They worked quickly, loading you onto a stretcher. He wanted to scream, to shake you awake, but he knew he had to let the professionals do their job.

“John… please,” You whispered, your voice barely a breath as they moved you. Tears brimmed in your eyes, and Price could see the pain etched across your face. you couldn’t form words; it hurt too much for you to even try.

“I’m here,” he said softly, leaning in closer, desperate for you to know you weren't alone. “I’ll always be here.” As they wheeled you toward the ambulance, he climbed in beside you, refusing to let you go.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” he urged, gripping your hand tightly. “You’re going to be okay. I promise. We’ll get through this together.

But you were silent, your eyes fluttering closed as you struggled against the pain that threatened to swallow you whole. The ambulance doors closed, and the world outside faded away.

“Just focus on my voice,” he continued, his heart racing. “You’re stronger than this. We’ll fight it together. I won’t leave your side.”

Your eyes opened just briefly, a flicker of recognition passing between them. You couldn’t speak, but in that moment, he felt the weight of your trust, your love.

As the sirens blared and the ambulance sped through the streets, Price leaned closer, brushing a stray coil from your forehead. “You’re my world, Lovie. I won’t let you go. We’ll get you the help you need. I promise you that.

His voice trembled with emotion as he watched you fade in and out of consciousness, the reality of your situation settling heavily on his chest. He wouldn’t lose you. Not like this. He wouldn’t let the darkness take you away.

[xhoneygirlxx]

he's not magic

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: the time of the month has come and Eddie is the only person who can sooth you.

warnings: talks about menstrual cycles/blood. mentions of dying. tooth rotting fluff. Eddie is a cutie pie. pet names used; sweetheart, baby, honey. shitty writing/spelling errors; if you find any plz ignore it lolololololol.

a/n: i'm currently in so much pain from my period and the only thing i want is for someone to coddle me and tell me i'm going to be ok. i hope you guys enjoy this very small thing, it's not much and it's not good but maybe it'll help you feel good on those days when life is shit. love you all <3

--

You're dying, a slow, painful, and mournful death. At this point you stopped caring, stopping all the begging you've done all morning for your life to continue. If this was how you were going out than so be it, you just wished your end had come faster.

You've already bled through two pairs of panties and two pairs of shorts, now left in your trusty period panties and an oversized shirt. Your stomach was bloated to the point it was uncomfortable, your breasts were so swollen that your chest felt like it was going to concave under the weight, and your back felt as if it was going to snap in half at any moment.

It felt like you tried everything, ibuprofen, heating pad, and propping a pillow in between your legs - none of the tricks worked. Now you were left in the fetal position, arms wrapped around your middle and knees pulled to your chest.

For the past how ever many hours you've been moaning out in pain, the stabbing feeling in your uterus just too much to handle. You're sure if someone were to walk in and see you they'd think you were insane and right now you couldn't blame them.

You did look insane, hair wild and matted to your face from all the sweat you've accumulated, voice hoarse and scratchy from all the wounded animal sounds you've made, and your face screwed up in an unflattering way.

Your phone has gone unanswered all day, the only person to have texted you was Eddie. At first it was only tik toks, small comments he thought would make you giggle, and then it turned into him updating you about his day at work, and finally worried questions about if you were okay.

You felt so fucking guilty for not responding, not telling him that you were fine but you just physically couldn't move from your crouched position. This only made you angrier, the fact that your temporarily paralyzed and are restricted from doing the things you need to do.

The fridge sits empty and in need of new groceries, laundry stays piled up by the washer where they wait to be cleaned, and Eddie is waiting for your response worrying about your well being - that is if he hasn't already contacted the national guard to track your location.

Everything is so shitty, the pain, the hurting, the guilt, the frustration. You feel like you're a balloon that's been filled up too much and is waiting to burst at the seams.

You don't have to take long before the heated tears from your eyes fall down, hitting the bridge of your nose, only to land on the pillow beneath your head. It's not a violent cry, at least not yet, just frustrated tears that seem to slip away from their barricade.

You don't even notice the front door of your apartment opening or the sound of Eddie calling for your name, only focusing on the pulsating of your uterus that debilitates your body.

"Fuck, baby I've been worried about you," You don't even turn and look at him, your eyes are still harshly closed. By the sound of his voice you know he's out of breath, brown curls probably wild from the speed of his running.

"Shit, sweetheart, are you okay?" The worry in his voice hits right on the spiderweb crack, shattering you into a million little pieces.

You can't hold it back, the wailing that rips from your throat is something close to bone chilling. Tears streams from your eyes without relent, whole body shaking from the cries that rip from your body.

It doesn't take more than thirty seconds to feel the bed dip as your boyfriend crawls into bed next to you. He doesn't think twice before pulling you in, one arm wrapped around your back and the other soothing down your hair on the side of your head.

"It's okay, baby. M'here, you're okay." Eddie coos and it's like music to your ears.

The warmth from his body fills you in a way your heating pad couldn't. Even with the mucus that fills your nose you catch a whiff of his scent, smoke, pine, and outside -undoubtedly him. His calloused hand runs soothingly up and down your back, allowing your bones to relax into his touch.

Eddie doesn't have to ask, he knows you better than you know yourself, and the way your scrunched up on your bed and crying he knows that you've been battling your pain all day.

"Sweetheart, you have to breath. Can you do that for me? Take one big deep breath, s'all I want, okay?"

You nod your head against his chest, following the way his chest moves as he demonstrates for you. Between hiccupped breaths and streaming tears, you allow your lungs to fill up with as much air as you can take in, releasing it right after in one long exhale.

"Good job, baby. Did such a good job f'me." Eddie's being soft with you, a side of him he only allows you to see and no one else.

You let his praise melt over you, soaking it right up like the plants in a drought. For the first time since you woke up you feel lighter, something you only feel when Eddie's by you. The cramps that have been going nonstop have finally subsided, the presence of your boyfriend scaring them away.

"It hurt so bad, Eds. S'really bad today." Your voice is shaky, as if one wrong move and you can break out into another sob.

"I know, honey, but it's okay. I'm gonna take care of you, kay? I'm gonna make it all better."

You both know that he has no control over what your body decides to do but just the promise alone has your worries easing away. Your body relaxes into him, your knees slowly falling down to their normal position until your laying right up against him.

"On a scale from one to ten, where are you at?" You take a moment to think about it, really evaluating the squeezing of your organs.

"Was a ten but now it's like a seven."

Eddie hums, his hand still soothing up and down your back. A small pause settles over his words, like he's trying to wrack his brain for the next action he's going to make so you can feel better.

"How 'bout you get some rest, then when you get up we'll get you something to eat? Sound okay?" You nod again, too tired to form any sort of response.

Eddie acknowledges your response with a kiss to the top of your head, making you hum in content when he does. It doesn't take long for the tiredness of your body to settle over you, quiet snores coming from your nose in no time.

Even if his arms fall asleep and his back feels stiff, Eddie stays there with you, soothing you in your sleep to ensure that your pain stays at bay. When you do wake up he's right there, waiting for you with some water and more medicine before helping you into the shower.

He's not magic and he has no idea what to do when it comes to woman's health but Eddie Munson will be damned if a period makes his girl cry like that again.

---

[lordprettyflackotara]

Hitchhiker || Chapter Nineteen || The Proxies

tw: depression, gore descriptions, WHEW smut 18+ minors dni, foursome, gangbang, poundtown, breeding, double penetration (triple if you consider suckin dick in that equation)

a/n: the next chapter will take a lot of time to come out. i plan on releasing it along with the canon ending and an alternative ending at the same time so you guys can choose. i promise i am locked in but that will be a lengthy ass project for me. anyways, enjoy this smutty ass shit!

<— previous chapter

“Nova!”

The scream left your lips before you could process it, your jaw dropping so low it could hit the floor. Your voice echoed through out your apartment, your eyes glued to the gruesome sight before you.

You had never seen anything like it. Her body, still completely intact, hung limp from the noose. Her face however was a completely different story. You felt Toby grab you from behind, your body too paralyzed to process the stream of endless tears that strolled down your cheeks. “D-don’t look,” Toby ushered. He tried to pull you out of the apartment, your sorrow holding you in place. You couldn’t look away from the gruesome sight, your eyes glued on what used to be your best friends face.

Her face appeared to be smashed in, as if someone stomped on it until it cracked and then kept going. Her skull was hardly identifiable, her brain a pile of bloody mush that threatened to fall out of the remnants of her head. You felt your stomach churn, Toby holding you back from flinging yourself towards your best friend’s corpse. You’d recognize her bouncy curls from a mile away, her outfit the same one she was wearing the last time you had saw her. Leaning forward you thought you were going to be sick, nausea consuming your senses as you gripped at the floorboards. You couldn’t move from the doorway of your apartment, your body stuck in a hypnotic trance of despair.

You hardly processed Jack stepping over you, slowly approaching Nova’s corpse. He gained your attention when he began to undo the rope. “What- what are you doing?” You choked out in between sobs. Jack was silent for a moment, his hands continuing to move. “She doesn’t deserve to be left like this,” Jack huffed out. Toby tried to convince you to not look again, pulling you closer to him. You stayed in his arms, watching as Jack set Nova’s body on the ground. You stared aimlessly at the sight, Toby’s grip suddenly loosening. You hadn’t noticed Masky or Hoodie’s arrival, their presence surprising you just as much as Toby.

“Y/n-” Toby began, attempting to reach out towards you. Masky stopped him, firmly putting his hand to his chest. “Let her go,” He said quietly. Masky firmly believed you needed to see how terrible The Operator truly was. How demonic and cruel he was. There was no sugar coating the situation anymore, you were prey for the world’s most dangerous predator. You stumbled over your feet as you sat on the right side of her body, Jack on her left. You wished you could’ve seen her sweet face one last time. You’d spend those last moments memorizing every freckle on her caramel skin. Yet you couldn’t even have that, her face hollowed in and horrific to look at. Your eyes couldn’t stop producing tears, your body frozen as you stared down at her.

Your hand was shaky as you tucked some stray hairs behind her ear, her curls just as soft as you remembered them. Jack was huffing under his mask, causing you to glance at him. He lifted it up briefly, exposing his nose and lips. He leaned down, Hoodie stepping forward to stop him. “Don’t. He’s not going to do that,” Masky grumbled. Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched the demon lean down, nuzzling his face into Nova’s shoulder. Curiously you watched him sniff her, causing your eyes to widened. Jack exhaled loudly, before leaning away from her corpse. “This isn’t Nova,” He announced. You felt your heart skip a beat, your widened eyes centered on Jack. “What?” You hissed. You glanced back down at your best friend’s corpse, before glaring at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?” You snapped. You could feel your face getting hot, your emotions unhinged.

“I have a superior sense of smell and her scent isn’t Novas,” Jack said with a shrug. He seemed so nonchalant, so unfazed. Masky sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Now Jack-” He began, your venom laced words interrupting him.

“What exactly are you proposing? I think i’d know my best friend’s corpse you demonic moron,” You growled. There was a brief moment of silence, one that Jack sliced in half with his next words, “Clearly not, considering that’s not her.”

Your body sprung into action for you, carrying you off of the ground and lunging yourself at Jack. You pushed him to the floor, pinning him and grabbing handfuls of his hoodie. “Dont you ever disrespect her like this again! She’s fucking dead. Dont you understand? She’s gone!” You seethed. Your voice cracked at the realization of her being gone, your anger now subsiding and being replaced with sorrow. Releasing your grip on Jacks hoodie you slumped beside him, curling up into a ball. You put your hands over your ears, screwing your eyes shut as you sobbed. Your head was pounding, memories of you and Nova swirling around your head. This was all your fault. This was all your fault. This was all your fault.

You felt a large set of hands pick you up, tucking you into the owners chest. You couldn’t get that image out of your head. The broken pieces of her skull and brain mushed together that sat where her beautiful face used to be. Inhaling you recognized the scent of cigarettes, letting you know that Masky was the one holding you. Faintly you could hear talking, the words muffled but the sound still audible. You signed into Masky’s chest, your eyes fluttering shut, your body slumping from exhaustion.

That was the last time you slept peacefully.

Your mind refused to let you sleep much after that, every time your eyes managed to close you’d see Nova’s face. The smiles she’d give you. The way she’d hold your hand. Then the memories would settle in. The ones of her taking you out for drinks after a stressful shift at work. Or the late nights you’d stay up together binge watching shameless. As the days dragged on her voice was beginning to grow more faint in your memory. This forced you to think of her every moment you spent awake. Jack had concluded you had never experienced such a deep loss before, thus leading to your depression. It concerned your lovers when he truthfully told them there was no guarantee you’d ever mentally recover.

You were a zombie to Toby. When you did walk around, it was only when your bladder threatened to make you urinate on yourself. You only ate when forced to, your nutrition intake Toby’s sole responsibility. He dedicated his time to cooking, gathering old cookbooks that had gathered dust on Jack’s shelves. Toby figured he wouldn’t mind, considering he didn’t eat human food anyways. Whether it was actually good or not Toby could never tell, your face empty and eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. He concluded it was at least edible, your jaw slowly crunching whatever it was he had managed to feed you.

To Brian, you were a hollow shell of who you used to be. It was his responsibility to bathe you, ensuring you were always clean. Brian was a bit of a clean freak contrary to everyone around him. He had no issue bathing you, of course. You’d sit in the tub, knees tucked to your chest as you blankly stared at the faucet. Brian was always tender and gentle with you, massaging your scalp with shampoo and washing you as if you were made of delicate glass. It was during this time he discovered your tramp stamp, something he attempted to joke about. He wanted to see it. He wanted to see a glimpse of the old you, the one he fell in love with. His attempt failed utterly, your silence almost deafening to his ears.

As for Tim, he didn’t consider you to be there at all. It was his responsibility to ensure you didn’t sleepwalk or fall under The Operators influence. At night he’d watch you toss and turn, hopelessly trying to fall asleep. Once you did eventually, that’s when the nightmares came. You’d wake up screaming, your vocal cords becoming sore from doing it so frequently. It led you to avoid sleeping all together, your eyes blood shot with dark bags hanging underneath them. The guilt of Nova’s death was eating you alive. You felt solely responsible. That the weight of her death fell on your shoulders and yours alone. You wished you could beg her for forgiveness. To have mercy on your crushed soul. But it was too late for that. It was too late for you to tell her how much she truly meant to you. She was gone. Forever.

Staring aimlessly at the wall, your mind soaring with daydreams filled with Nova, Tim entered the room. It was a typical routine now, him sitting in a rocking chair by your bedside. Except this time he brought something with him. Something he thought may lighten your mood. “Hey princess. Brought you something,” He said. Now truthfully the cigarettes were more for him than for you, but he remembered the way your eyes lit up when he offered you one. Tim strolled over to the rocking chair, sitting down in it. He dug out the cigarette box, your eyes finally flickering away from the wall. Tim tried to hide his grin, afraid a reaction might shy you away into your shell again.

He ripped off the plastic, opening the box up. As nonchalantly as he could he handed you a cigarette, watching you take it with shaky fingers. He brought his own to his lips, fishing a lighter out of his jeans. You forced yourself to sit up, propping yourself up on one elbow as you leaned forward. Tim picked up on your hint to help light the cigarette, flicking the lighter and holding the flame at its end. You inhaled deeply, watching the tobacco burn a bright orange as it swirled around your lungs. Tim allowed himself to smile this time, watching you exhale into the cold night air. Your eyes finally flickered to his, one of your eyebrows raising, “What?”

Oh your voice. The sweet sweet sound of your voice. “Nothing princess,” Tim shrugged, leaning back in his hair. He lit his own cigarette, the smoke along with you uttering a single word making him extremely happy. But much like he would treat a cautious deer, he pretended to not be. He didn’t want to scare you away. Not now. Not after a month of seeing a doll version of you take your place. So instead he rocked back and forth in his rocking chair, inhaling and exhaling the precious tobacco stick. Unsurely you forced yourself to sit up, the cold winters breeze hitting you from the window. Your eyes fluttered closed. When was the last time you had allowed yourself to enjoy the wind? Or anything for that matter?

You smoked alongside Tim, the bedroom door opening. Brian and Toby both stumbled inside. “Aren’t you guys supposed to be sleeping?” Tim asked. Brian and Toby tried to hide their guilty looks, failing under Tim’s stern gaze. “Yeah but Jacks out hunting so we needed to protect the house, obviously,” Brian said. Toby nodded along frantically, his neck slightly twitching at the sight of you sitting up. Both boys joined you on the bed, Toby by your side and Brian lying on his stomach at the end. You handed Toby your cigarette, while Tim handed Brian his own. "I-it's nice to see y-you up," Toby said softly. His comment on your behavior alarmed Tim and Brian, who feared you'd curl up back into a ball. You delivered him a small smile. Although Nova's death weighed heavy on your heart and soul, your boys needed you.

You were their soul reason for breaking away. For trying to find freedom away from The Operator. Despair had clouded their lives for so long, the existential dread of being a homicidal slave daunting on their mental states. But you were like a ray of hope for them. Just as they were becoming a ray of hope for you in your darkest hour. "I'm sorry, about mentally clocking out," You apologized, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. Brian rolled over on his back, blowing the cigarette smoke into the air. "Don't sweat it, we'll always be here for you," The blonde informed you. Toby handed you back your cigarette, your lips feigning for a hit. As you stared over the stick and studied the three men, you had a realization you should've had ages ago.

You loved them.

With all of your body, mind, and soul. You truly adored each of them, including Masky and Hoodie. Pin pointing exactly when you fell in love with each of them individually was impossible. Maybe the truth was you had loved them all along, from the moment you picked them up in your car on Halloween.

"C'mere. All three of you," You whimpered lowly. Tim flicked his cigarette out of the window, Brian following suit. They surrounded you like hungry wolves, Tim's pupils blown with lust once he realized what you wanted. "Are you sure about this?" He asked slowly. You slid your shirt over your head, your breast bouncing out and on display. "I just wanna feel something. Something good. You three make me feel good," You admitted. Brian and Toby's concern was completely faded at the sight of your breast, your nipples perky from the cool night air. "I want you. All of you. Right now," You whispered. Tim's lips were on you in a flash, while Toby and Brian each took one of your breast into their mouths. You groaned into Tim's mouth, which he eagerly swallowed. The taste of cigarettes and mint danced across your taste buds, Brian nudging you to open your legs. Your hands slithered to Toby's and Tim's crotches, their cocks growing harder by the minute.

Individually they were addicting as lovers, but all together, they were truthfully intoxicating. Toby teasingly grazed your nipple with his teeth, while Brian’s tongue swirled around the other sensitive bud. You recognized Brian’s slender fingers palming at your clothed cunt, your slick drenching your panties. He released your nipple with a pop, kissing down your stomach before reaching the waistband of your shorts. You lifted your hips, helping him pull them down along with your panties in a swift motion. He ran two fingers up your folds, grinning at the sight of your arousal. “Look at that. So fuckin wet for us,” Brian purred, before beginning to lap at your folds. His lips attached themselves to your clit, the sensation causing you to moan loudly.

Tim couldn’t get enough of your sounds, shoving his shirt over his head. “Wanna feel the both of you, take these off,” You panted, tugging at his and Toby’s jeans. The men undressed quickly, your sinful noises uncontrollable as Brian devoured your pussy. As soon as you saw Tim and Toby’s cocks you wrapped your hands around them, jerking them off. Toby’s whimpers were loud and audible, while Tim bit the inside of his cheek to hold back his own. You struggled to remain coherent as Brian’s tongue teased your entrance, before he abruptly shoved two fingers inside of you instead. “There we go. You can take it princess,” Tim praised, brushing some of your hair off of your face. Brian curled his fingers inside of you, abusing your g spot. You briefly got lost in the pleasure, your hands coming to a slow halt as you explored euphoria.

Brian’s fingers stopping brought you back to reality, both of your boyfriend’s cocks hard in your hands. “Don’t stop showing them love, or else i’ll stop,” Brian said sternly. You gulped as you continued pumping Tim and Toby’s cocks, Brian’s finger fucking resuming. "F-fuck i'm gonna destroy that pretty throat of yours," Toby moaned, his cheeks a visible shade of pink. Tim's face was turning red, his groans now audible as you jerked him off. You could feel yourself getting closer to your first orgasm, your thighs trembling. "Fuck, i'm gonna fucking cum, fuck- please make me cum," You babbled, your hand straying from Tim's cock and gripping Brian's wrist. Tim took the opportunity to lean down close to your face, planting sloppy kisses on the side of your head. "Go on princess, cum on his face like the good girl I know you are," He huffed, nibbling at your earlobe. His words broke you, the cord inside of you snapping as you came on Brian's relentless fingers.

Dazed, the boys rearranged you, ensuring you were comfortable as you propped yourself up on all fours. Tim laid beneath you, his chocolate orbs full of comfort. Toby was to your left, while Brian was behind you. "I-i've n-never," You sputtered, your unexplored hole clenching from fear and arousal. Tim was quick to wash away your worry. "We're gonna go nice and slow, aren't we Brian?" He asked, his question coming out as more of an order. Brian's large hands cupped your ass, gripping the flesh as gently as he could muster. "Don't worry beautiful, we're gonna take good care of you," He agreed. Tim was first, slowly rubbing his tip up and down your drenched folds. Toby watched silently, teasingly rubbing his hand up and down his shaft as Tim pushed himself inside of you. Bracing yourself you grabbed onto Tim's shoulders, grunts escaping his lips as your gummy walls gushed around his cock. "Such a perfect little cunt," He groaned, biting his bottom lip.

You tensed up as you felt Brian spit on your puckered hole, your eyes widening. Tim had fully bottomed out inside of you, his cock brushing against your g spot. You buried your head into Tim's shoulder as Brian slowly pushed a finger inside of your asshole. "So fuckin tight, holy fuck," He muttered. Toby was fine waiting, but was eager for a show while he did so. "I-it would probably h-h-help if you fucked her Tim,” He advised. The older brunette caved to his desires, Toby's suggestion only adding fuel to the flame. He slowly pulled his cock out of you, before ramming back into you. You whined as his thrust picked up the pace, Toby's hand guiding you to jack off his cock. "Taking me so well princess, does it feel good?" Tim asked teasingly, your whimpers and unholy noises vibrating against his neck. Your noises were incoherent, a gasp escaping your lips as Brian added a second finger. A rough hand yanked you away from the comfort of Tim's neck, Toby's brown eyes boring down into yours.

"H-he asked you a question princess," Toby spat mockingly, enjoying the sight of your face temporarily scrunching up in pain. Tim could feel your walls squeeze around him as Toby gripped your hair. "Be as rough as you want with her kid, she likes it," He chuckled darkly. It became hard to focus, your tongue flattening out across your bottom lip. You were practically drooling at the sight of Toby's cock and you couldn't help but want to suck him dry. You were so distracted you didn't notice Brian's fingers leaving your unexplored hole. He regained your attention when you felt Tim's thrust come to a halt as Brian slowly pushed himself inside of you. For a moment you thought you were going to split in half, your fingernails digging into Tim's shoulders. Tim's rough hands reached around your waist, holding the mounds of your ass apart as Brian sank in deeper. Your noises were strangled bits of pain mixed with pleasure, Tim's lips planting sloppy kisses against your neck.

"Doing so well for us," Brian panted, attempting to contain himself as your walls pulled him in closer. Once he fully bottomed out the four of you were panting in unison, your body struggling with the feeling of being so full. "Sorry princess, need to move," Tim hissed through his teeth. Both boys began moving their hips, your head spinning from pain slowly fading into pleasure. You didn't have time to think too much, Toby guiding your mouth onto his cock. Your noises created blissful vibrations around his shaft, your eyes watering as he began to sink deeper into your throat. All three of your holes were stuffed, the pain fully fading into euphoric pleasure as the boys abused your holes as they pleased. It was just the right distraction, your body in a state of bliss as they fucked you senseless. You gagged on Toby's cock as he used your throat, your thighs beginning to shake as you neared your second orgasm.

You had never felt such intense pleasure before, the four of you lost in a trance. Toby knew he was going to cum first, his hips stuttering as his hips thrusted into you. He combed his fingers through your scalp, tugging at your roots. "G-gonna cum down t-that pretty throat of yours," He panted. You struggled to comprehend his words as Tim and Brian pounded into you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Toby moaned your name as he came, his warm cum flooding down your throat. You gagged at the sensation, his slender fingers securing your head in place. “Swallow every last drop,” He ordered, a sadistic grin crossing his lips as he watched you struggle to do so. He finally removed his cock from your throat, your tongue rolling out to proudly showed him you listened. He kneeled down, cupping your chin. Your lips puckered out like a fish as Toby gave you devilish gaze.

“C-cum on their c-cocks. Go on. I’m w-waiting,” Toby spat, his neck twitching as he stared deeply into your eyes. You felt Brian’s hands roughly grab your ass, your body shaking. Your vision went white as you came, your euphoria sending you upwards towards the stars. You could vaguely still feel Brian and Tim pounding you, your body spent. You were held up by three strong sets of hands, Brian’s orgasm following closely after yours. His warm seed splattered across your ass cheeks, painting your skin. Tim was still rutting into you, his orgasm close. “Please cum in me Tim, please, I need it,” You whined, your thighs trembling. Your pleas sent him over the edge, his mind full of pure filth about breeding you.

He painted your insides white, flooding your cunt. Exhausted you collapsed on top of him, panting as he slowly pulled out of you. In a dream like state you could feel the boys carrying you over to the bathroom for a bath. You snuggled against Toby’s chest, your eyes blissfully fluttering shut. For the first time since Novas death you felt content. Who would’ve thought three hitchhikers could make you feel so loved.

—> next chapter

[xoxoavenger]

Days of Future Past

pairing: Young!Charles Xavier x Fem!Reader

summary: What if Charles had a wife in the 70s? And what if she was pregnant when Logan came to visit?

word count: 5071

warnings: canon typical violence, pregnancy, addiction

part two

masterlist birthday celebration masterlist

"I got it!" Y/N yelled as someone knocked on the door. She wiped her hands on her apron, as she had been making dinner when the knock sounded, and went to go open the door. When she made her way to the lobby, however, Hank was already talking with the man outside. He forcefully made his way inside, and Y/N crossed her arms over her stomach.

"Hey! I said the school's closed. You need to leave." Hank yelled after the man, but he was still making his way inside.

"Not until I see the professor." The man said, and Y/N stepped forward.

"There's no professor here, sir. Maybe you should get along." She said, and Hank protectively went to her side.

"Y/N! I didn't know you'd be h - you're pregnant?" The man said, and Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know my name?" She asked, taking another step forward. The man sighed. He looked annoyed and worn out, but Y/N really didn't care.

"Look, someday, we're all gonna be good friends. You just don't know it yet." The man said to the both of them, before punching Hank in the face. Y/N dropped to his side as he fell to the ground, letting the man walk up the stairs. What did he mean by that? And if they were supposed to be 'friends,' why did he punch Hank?

"That son of a bitch," Hank grumbled out, rubbing his cheek.

"Professor?" The man called, and Y/N immediately rushed to follow the man up the stairs and to the left, Hank still on the floor. Charles was having a hard time, and he needed more help than Hank would.

"Sir, I don't know who you think you are, or who you think you're looking for, but-" Y/N cut herself off as a blue Hank went barreling past her. Her eyes widened, watching the two fight down the hallway. She stood with her back against the wall as Hank threw the man across the stairs, jumping after him. He then proceeded to throw the man all the way down the stairs, onto the table in the lobby. The door across the hallway from her opened, and Y/N was met with blue eyes.

"Charles," She greeted, surprised as Charles emerged from their room. They heard growling, and the two made their way to the main lobby, Y/N pulling off her apron and putting it on the bannister.

"Hank? What's going on here?" Charles yelled, and Y/N followed silently down the stairs.

"Professor?" The unnamed man said.

"Please don't call me that." Charles requested, and Y/N frowned. She looked at Hank, who was hanging upside down on the chandelier directly on top of the man. She put her head down, staying silent. When Charles first lost his legs, he didn't seem to care as much. It was only when his friends, his family, began to get drafted for the war that Charles fell, and hard. She had tried her best to get him to lay off the serum, especially because she was pregnant. She had found out a couple weeks after they had opened the school, right before people were getting drafted. She tries not to think about the fact that he may have been better off if she hadn't been in his life, if she wasn't carrying his child. She would never voice her thoughts, however, and it was much easier to pretend now that he no longer could read her mind.

Sometimes they even pretended she wasn't pregnant, that they weren't mutants.

"Why? Do you know this guy?" Hank asked. Y/N still didn't dare look up. She didn't want to make things worse, didn't want to set Charles or Hank off even more. Both were clearly stressed out, and she was stuck not being able to help either. The easiest thing for her to do was shut up and make food.

Speaking of food, she should probably go back there.

"Yeah, he looks slightly familiar. Get off the bloody chandelier, Hank." Charles said, his voice already slurring. If he hadn't been paralyzed and she hadn't been pregnant, he wouldn't have been drunk already. Hank flipped off the Chandelier, and the man began to slowly sit up.

"You can walk." Y/N heard the man say, and she snapped her head up. What did this guy know? Who was he to know that Charles hasn't always been able to walk? All thoughts of her going back to the food was abandoned in favor of backing up Charles.

"You're a perceptive one." She said, and Charles gave her a look as he walked down the stairs. She rolled her eyes, beginning to talk over the man that was already talking. She was breaking her number one rule, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"I thought Erik-"

"Which makes it slightly perplexing that you managed to miss our sign on the way in." Y/N said, and Charles looked at her before finishing the talk.

"This is private property, my friend. I'm gonna have to ask him to ask you to leave." Charles sat down on the last step, and Y/N rushed down the steps to his side, grabbing ahold of his arm.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, because, uh, because I was sent here for you." The man said, and Charles looked at Y/N, but his expression was blank. He looked back to the man.

"Well, tell whoever it was that sent you that I'm-" Charles lead off, looking at Y/N once more. His gaze rested on the bump that was currently fanning out the dress she had on. "Busy, obviously." He finished, and Y/N looked back to the man.

"That's gonna be a little tricky, because the person who sent me was you." The man said, taking a deep breath.

"What?" Y/N and Charles said at the same time, although Charles seemed less interested than Y/N. She didn't quite understand all the things he understood, and right now she was lost.

"About fifty years from now." The man continued, and Y/N released Charles' arm to hold her head in her hands. How was that supposed to work?

"Fifty years from now? Like in the future, fifty years from now?" She asked, looking back up at the man. She knows she needs to stop talking, but suddenly life was flipped and she forgot to remember herself for a moment.

"Yeah." The man confirmed.

"I sent you from the future." Charles said. He definitely wasn't believing it.

"Yeah." The man confirmed again, and Y/N looked over to see Hank shaking his head.

"Piss off." Charles said, and Y/N stood, rising tall to intimidate the man. It wasn't working.

"You have some nerve showing up here, punching Hank and making fun of Charles. How did you even know my name?" Y/N asked, walking closer to the man, but he looked around her at Charles.

"If you had your powers, you'd know I was telling the truth." He said, and Y/N punched him before she could even think about it.

"Woah, woah, woah." Hank said, him and Charles going to her side to pull her back. Hank hung onto her while Charles stared at him.

"How do you know I don't have my," Charles led off, and the three shared a look. "Who are you?" Charles asked again.

"I told you." The man said, but Charles didn't believe him.

"Are you CIA?" Charles asked.

"No."

"You been watching me?" Charles asked, and Y/N felt her heart rate pick up as she knew Charles' was as well. She got anxiety for Charles ever since he was shot, and she hated the feeling.

"I know you, Charles. We've been friends for years. I know your powers came when you were nine. I know you thought you were going crazy when it started, all the voices in your head. And it wasn't until you were twelve that you realized all the voices were in everyone else's head. Do you want me to go on?" The man spoke, and Y/N stared at Charles. After a moment, he turned to her, silently asking if she had said anything. She shook her head, because first of all, why would she tell, and second of all, who would she tell?

"I only told Y/N that." Charles said quietly.

"One day, you'll share your story." The man said, and Y/N turned to look at Hank, who was just staring. She was so confused and tired and she just wanted to go back to making dinner while Hank worked and Charles drank.

"Alright, you've piqued my interest." Charles said, and Y/N moved closer to him. She put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to comfort him.

"Charles, we don't even know who this guy is. He could be a telepath. We don't know anything except he came in here and started a fight with Hank." Y/N said, but Charles shrugged her off.

"What do you want?" Charles asked, and Y/N frowned.

"We have to stop Raven. I need your help. We need your help." The man said, and Y/N stared at Charles, heart breaking at the pained look on his face. He looked down. She knew how close Raven and Charles were, even mistaking it for romantic love and not sibling love. This man bringing her up did not help his case.

"I think I'd like to wake up now." He said, walking away. Y/N tried to grab his hand, but he slid out without so much as a look. She turned to see Hank's blue appearance going back to normal.

"You'll have to forgive him. He's going through some tough times." Y/N said, head down as she followed Charles' path. He was pouring himself a drink when she walked into the room. She leaned against the desk, trying to alleviate the pain in her feet from standing. She had been standing while making dinner, and she had half a thought to go finish it.

"I don't need my powers to know you're in pain. Why don't you sit down?" He suggested. She sat in his chair, close to where he was still pouring his drink. She almost put her feet on the desk, but thought better of it.

"You shouldn't drink so much. What are you going to do when the baby comes?" She asked, and he turned to see her slouching in the chair, bump stretching upwards. She had her hands around it, rubbing it, and Charles thought he had never seen anyone so beautiful in his life.

It scared him to think that he was going to have to be in charge of another person soon.

"Drink more." He responded, and she frowned.

"Charles," She crossed her arms, and he turned and leaned against his desk to face her.

"You know I won't." He tried to comfort her, but she just shook her head.

"But you'll keep doing the useless treatments?" She asked, and he dropped his head.

"They aren't useless. You don't understand how hard this is for me." He said, and she rolled her eyes. She was tired of just letting this go because of him. She was hurting too.

"What, you think this is easy for me?" She asked.

be a good wife be a good wife be a good wife

The mantra repeated over and over in her head, and she took a deep breath. Charles was going through the hardest time he'd ever had in his life, and although she was too, she still needed to be there for him. It was her job.

"I'm sorry. I know this is hard." She said, and he shook his head, tears forming in his eyes.

"You shouldn't be the one apologizing." He said, but he left it there. Not too long after their conversation was over, the man walked into the room with Hank.

"Just let me explain myself."

~

"So they took Raven's powers and weaponized it?" Y/N asked, and Charles was already pouring himself another drink. They had only been talking for 10 minutes, and Y/N rubbed her eyes. The food she was preparing had probably gone bad now, but she knew she couldn't leave Charles alone, not while he was halfway to shitfaced before dark.

"Yep." Was all the man - Logan - said. He had explained the future, explained how the four of them were all friends and Charles and Y/N's baby had mutant abilities too, but it was a lot of information to take in.

"She is unique." Hank said.

"Yeah, she is, Hank." Charles said with a smile. Y/N looked back to Logan to continue talking while Charles walked across the room.

"Look, in the beginning, the Sentinels were just targeting mutants. Then they began to identify the genetics in non-mutants, who would eventually have mutant children and grandchildren." Logan turned to face Charles, who was now sitting on the couch. Charles looked at Y/N, and she heaved herself up, shuffling to sit next to him on the couch. He put an arm around her, then set his drink down, the other hand resting on her stomach. Y/N closed her eyes, trying to take in the moment. He was at the sweet spot, when he was drunk enough to forget that he was upset but not drunk enough to dwell in self pity.

"Many of the humans tried to help us. It was a slaughter, leaving only the worst of humanity in charge. I've been in a lot of wars. I've never seen anything like this. And it all starts with her." Logan finished, but Y/N still didn't open her eyes. She moved a hand to Charles' chest, her head resting above his heart. She never wanted this moment to end.

But then Charles removed his hand from her bump and leaned to pick up his drink, taking a swig before talking.

"Well, let's just say for the sake of," He paused, his knee starting to shake and his other hand going up to rub his eye. "The sake, that I-I choose to believe you. Raven won't listen to me." He said, leaning further into the couch and putting his arm farther down now so that he could feel her bump as well. She sighed, still not opening her eyes. "Her heart and soul belong to someone else now." Charles finished, and Y/N could tell that Hank was upset without looking at him.

She'd honestly rather be anywhere else than there at the moment.

"I know. That's why we're gonna need Magneto, too." Logan's sentence made Y/N's eyes shoot open as she looked at him with annoyance and fear, and she felt Charles tense as he chuckled.

"Erik? You do know where he is?" Hank asked, and Charles continued his breathless laugh.

"Yeah." Logan answered, and Y/N moved as Charles stood, putting his drink down and moving further away from her, laughing like a mad man.

"He's where he belongs." Charles said, making his way to the door.

"That's it? You're just gonna walk out?" Logan asked, and Y/N stood, moving to see Charles when he walked all the way out the door.

"Oh, top marks. Y/N, you were right, he is perceptive." Charles was walking backward, away from them, and Y/N knew that she wouldn't get a peaceful moment with him again until he was asleep. Then, they would start the same day over again, until she had the baby. Who knows what would happen after that.

"The professor I know would never turn his back on someone who lost their path. Especially someone he loved." Logan said as Charles was almost to the stairs. Charles then stepped back, turning to the three of them gathered to the door. Y/N started talking, but Charles talked right over her.

"You have no right to-"

"You know, I think I do remember you now. Yeah. We came to you a long time ago seeking your help. And I'm gonna say to you what you said to us then. Fuck off." Charles cut Y/N off. Before Y/N could blink, Logan grabbed Charles by his shirt and brought him close.

"Listen to me, you little shit. I've come a long way, and I've watched a lot of people die. Good people. Friends. If you're gonna wallow in self-pity and do nothing, then you're gonna watch the same thing, you understand? You wanna watch her die?" Logan jerked his head to Y/N, and her blood ran cold. Charles looked at her as Logan let go of him, and then looked back at Logan.

"We all have to die sometime." Charles said, taking a drink and turning away, walking up the stairs. Y/N felt her knees give in, but Logan caught her, leading her to the couch, where she laid blank faced.

"Told you there was no professor here." Hank said, and Logan turned to Hank.

"What the hell happened to him?" Logan asked Hank, but Y/N answered anyway.

"He lost everything. Erik, Raven, his legs. And then he finds out that not only has he lost his closest friends and is now paralyzed, he's also going to be a father." Y/N said emotionless. She was staring off, her face and mind blank. This happened often now, at times when Charles would stop caring about her. It was easier to shut herself off then deal with the pain. Hank knew what was going on, but he knew that there was nothing he could do for her, short of forcing Charles off meds.

"We built the school, the labs, this-this whole place. Then the war got worse. Many of the teachers and older students were drafted. Everything going on, it just broke him. He retreated into himself. I wanted to help, do something, so I designed the serum to help treat his spine. Derived from the same formula that helps me control my mutation. I take just enough to keep myself balanced, but," Hank trailed off as he walked around.

"He takes too much. He doesn't listen when we try to ease him back. He can't bear the pain, the voices." Y/N said, tears shrining to her eyes. As hard as she tried to bottle her emotions, it seemed the glass would always shatter and flood her mind anyways. "I want to be enough. I want him to be able to be happy without his legs, with a child, with me, but he's not. Why am I not enough?" She whispered, looking up to Logan. He sat in front of her legs on the couch.

"You are enough. He'll realize it. I promise." Logan said, thinking to his present, the world where Charles and Y/N lived almost happily ever after (minus the major wars they fought in). Y/N nodded, closing her eyes. She had barely drifted off when Charles' voice echoed through the room.

"I'll help you get her." He said, and Y/N sat up "Not for any of your future shite, but for her. And my," Charles lead off, and Y/N could tell he was trying to hold back his emotions. She stood to see him, but he didn't look at her.

"Son. For your son." Logan said, and tears immediately sprung to Y/N's eyes.

"We're having a boy?" Charles asked quietly. Y/N ran to him, and he wrapped his arms tight around her.

"I am so sorry, love." Charles said, and Y/N just shook her head against him.

She wished things would change, but change took time. She only hoped they had enough time.

~

She knew that although Charles was sorry, he was not going to stop. He was too deep now, it would take a lot more than knowing the gender of their child to get him to become sober once more. And although she wasn't allowed to go get Erik, she accompanied them on the jet to get to Raven. She despised staying alone while pregnant, and knew the others would take care of her. She'd be alright with them.

"So, you're pregnant." Erik said, looking over at Y/N. She sat on the couch with Charles, his arm around her loosely.

"Yes." Charles answered for her, and Erik continued to read the paper.

"And your powers?" Erik didn't look up again, and Charles' grip tightened on Y/N.

"The treatment for my spine affects my DNA." Charles answered simply, and Y/N cuddled closer, holding onto him tightly.

"You sacrificed your powers so you could walk?" Erik asked, and Y/N shut her eyes tightly, hands gripping Charles' shirt.

"I sacrificed my powers so that I could sleep. So that I could protect and care for my son." Charles' voice faltered, and she looked up at him.

"Charles, you can still care for the baby without your legs." Y/N said, but Charles just held onto her tighter.

"What do you know about it?" Charles shook his head, and she knew he was talking to Erik.

"I've lost my fair share." Erik said quickly. Y/N looked up at him. Had this monster really lost that much?

"Dry your eyes, Erik. It doesn't justify what you've done." Y/N said, and Charles rubbed her back and bump, trying to calm her.

"You have no idea what I've done." Erik said, and Y/N stood, Charles trying to get her to sit down. She was too enraged though, at the man who had practically taken her life from her.

"You took Charles' legs, his power. You took away the things that mean the most to him." Y/N said with tears in her eyes. Charles frowned from the side, upset that she didn't think she mattered the most, because she did, her and the baby. Erik was enraging him too, now.

"Well maybe he should have fought harder for them." Erik responded, and Charles stepped in front of Y/N, as Erik was rising from his seat.

"If you want to fight, Erik, I will give you a fight!" Charles yelled.

"Charles," Y/N said.

"Sit down!" Logan commanded. All their voices were coming at once.

"Let him come." Erik responded, and Charles lunged forward, grabbing Erik by his shirt.

"You abandoned me! You took her away and you abandoned me!" Charles yelled, and Y/N sat down, feeling sick. It was as if she didn't matter, as if she weren't even there.

"Angel. Azazel. Emma. Banshee." The plane began creaking as Erik spoke, and Logan was next to Y/N, the two of them holding onto each other as the plane shook. She fought to keep the bile rising down.

"Mutant brothers and sisters all dead!" Erik yelled, and Y/N felt Charles at her side. She clung to him as Logan clung to the couch. The plane began to tilt, and they slowly fell to the other side against the wall. Y/N felt tears in her eyes as she held on to Charles as tightly as she could.

"Erik!" Y/N yelled, but it was like he didn't hear her.

"Countless others experimented on, butchered."

"Erik!" Hank yelled from the cockpit, and Y/N let out a sob. She had never been this afraid, not even when Charles had lost his legs, or when she found out she was pregnant. She tried to resit the urge to puke, and she could feel it in the back of her mouth.

"Where were you, Charles?" Erik asked, and they began falling toward the cockpit. They let out a groan as they hit another wall, Charles holding Y/N as close as he could. "Where were you when your own people needed you? Hiding! You and Hank and Y/N! Pretending to be something you're not!" Erik yelled. They were falling at a quick rate, and Y/N let out more sobs, silently praying.

"Erik, please, she's pregnant!" Hank bargained, and as the plane went back to normal and the two fell into a seat, Y/N felt dizzy. She was resting against Charles, but she knew it wouldn't last long.

"You abandoned us all." Erik said, and then he looked straight at Y/N. "And now you're abandoning her." Erik said, and that was the snapping point for Y/N. She stumbled to the bathroom, almost tripping multiple times on the short walk. She finally made it there, where she threw up, struggling to catch her breath. She felt someone bring her hair back, and she wiped her lips before turning and looking. She expected to see Logan, but she instead saw Charles. She almost started crying again, and he held her in his arms.

In the five months she had been pregnant, Charles had never come to her aid while she was sick. She knew it was hard for him, but this showed he was getting better. Maybe one day, everything would be okay.

~

They arrived back at the mansion after an unsuccessful mission, and Y/N felt the progress that had been made being washed away as Charles began struggling. They had just walked into the mansion when Charles fell to the ground groaning.

"Charles!" Y/N shrieked, going to his side. Hank went to his other side, grabbing him.

"What happened?" Logan asked, but no one answered.

"Come on, up." Hank heaved Charles up, and Charles began panting.

"Why can't he walk?" Logan asked, and Y/N put a hand over Charles' own, which was raised to his head.

"He needs his treatment." Y/N responded, Hank placing Charles against the wall.

"Hank, Y/N, I can hear them!" Charles groaned, and Y/N's heart dropped.

"I know, baby. It's okay. It'll all be okay." Y/N responded.

"Can you make it stop?" Charles asked quietly, and Hank was already walking away.

"I'll go get it." Hank said, rushing up the stairs. Charles grunted, pressing his hands against his head. Y/N pushed his hair out of his face, kissing his forehead.

"Hey, hey! Pull yourself together. It's not over yet." Logan said, and Charles opened his eyes and put his fingers to his temple, looking at Logan. Y/N sighed, licking her lips and then turning, because she knew that Charles was about to use his powers for the first time in awhile.

"You don't believe that." Charles said, and Logan's face changed. Y/N turned back to Charles, coaxing his hand down.

"How do you know?" Logan asked, and Y/N just kept caring for Charles, trying to comfort him. It broke her heart to see him in pain like this.

"As these go," Charles put a hand on his leg. "This comes back." Charles put a hand back up to his head. He pressed both hands back to his head. "They all come back." He moaned, panting.

"Hey, it'll be okay, Charles. You're gonna be okay, baby. Look at me, it's okay. I'm here." Y/N comforted. She hoped this would be the turning point, where he wouldn't take the serum again.

"Look, she's still out there." Logan said, and Charles reached down to undo his shirt sleeve, pulling it up his arm. "But we need your help, Charles. Not like this. I need you." Logan said, and Y/N continued to push the hair out of his face.

"Charles, slow down." Y/N stopped him from fully hitching his shirt sleeve up.

"We can't find Raven; not without your powers." Logan said softly. Y/N looked at Charles, wiping the hair out of his face.

"You're strong. Stronger than anyone I know. You can do this." Y/N whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. She just hoped it was enough.

"I, uh, I added a little extra because you missed a dose." Hank said as he bounded down the stairs. Y/N backed up, giving Charles room to make his decision. Charles grabbed the syringe, and Y/N turned her head, not able to watch.

"Charles." Logan warned, turning towards him. Charles aimed the syringe, and Y/N could hear his whimpers. She waited for it to be over, so when she heard Charles exhale and the clink of the syringe as he put it down, she turned to look at him. He sniffled, and she realized that he hadn't taken the shot. He looked at her, but then looked down, ashamed. Y/N grabbed his hand, and he squeezed hers, shutting his eyes tight before opening them.

"Uh, H-Hank, do me a favor. Would you help me to my study, please?" He looked so young as he shook slightly, squeezing Y/N's hand once more before letting Hank grab his arm.

"Come on, I got you." Hank told Charles. Y/N let her hand slip out of his, watching silently as the two made it to the study.

Only then did she let the tears fall.

"Y/N," Logan put a hand on her shoulder, and she lost it, falling to her knees as she sobbed. Logan kelt with her, keeping a hand on her shoulder but otherwise not getting to close. She had her hands covering her mouth, eyes squeezed tight as tears somehow still escaped.

"Thank you." She whispered through her tears, shifting to sit on the ground. She turned to face Logan now, eyes wide. "Thank you so much." She whispered. Logan nodded, his lips pressed in a thin line.

"Ya know, he would have eventually come off the serum, even if I hadn't been here. It was really you." He told her, and she just nodded. Logan helped her up, and she wiped her tears, sniffling as they made their way into the study. Charles was still shaking, sitting on a chair, and Y/N took a deep breath as she stood next to him. He slipped his hand back into her's, and this time she squeezed his as Hank opened the door.

"Are you sure about this?" Hank asked as they looked at the wheelchair in the closet.

"Absolutely not." Charles told him, but Hank got it out anyway. He helped Charles into the chair, and everyone was silent as they tried not to look at him. Hank and Logan shared an expression before leaving, Y/N sitting down in the chair across from him.

"I, um, just so you know," Y/N said, wiping her tears and hoping they wouldn't fall and cause Charles to think about it to much. "I've never cared if you could use your legs. Or, um, I never - I don't care if you don't want your powers. I just - I only want you to be happy. I don't want you to keep drinking. I don't want you to destroy yourself before your son even gets to meet you." She was struggling to keep her sobs in, and Charles reached forward and grabbed her hand.

"It's okay, Y/N, hey." Charles moved forward as much as he could to wipe her tears, and she grabbed one of his wrists.

"Charles," She whispered, and he felt the tears roll down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm sorry for all the pain I caused you." He sniffled, and she turned to kiss his palm. "I know that it wasn't easy for you. I know I haven't made things easy for you. But I still love you. And I can do better. I promise to do better." Charles told her, making her let out a sob.

"I'm just happy you're still the man I fell in love with."

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @roxaya @thefandomplace @punzoquack

[byllsbytch]

SHARK WEEK

Nicholas Alexander Chavez

Genre: Fluff

Summary: You experience period pains and call off Nicholas visiting. He refuses to stay away.

Warnings: N/A

It was that time of the month and I laid in bed awaiting for Nick to rock up after filming . 

It'd taken Nicholas 2 years to finally convince me to come off the pill.

I typically wasn't in so much pain when it came to my period but no longer being on the pill I had forgotten how bad my cramps and lower back pain was.

It was surely kicking my ass. 

I was paralyzed in pain I kept my eyes closed trying not to throw up. "I'm going to have to cancel Nick coming over tonight." I thought to myself groaning. I cannot see anyone like this.

I cautiously reached over to my phone not trying to make any sudden movement and put myself into a world of more hurt. I dialled up the number of the studio that the Nick was at and sat listening to the ringing for a while, after moments of waiting finally an answer.

"Hello, Ben speaking" The voice said, I screwed up my face and looked at my phone again making sure it was the right number before I placed it back to my ear.

"Its me prick, you're not that famous asshole" 

"Who is this?" Nick was puzzled.

"Y/N?" 

"Oh, you sound grouchier than Y/N" he joked

"Well, that's what happens when you tell your girlfriend to get off the pill!"

"Really?!"

"No dipshit, it's uh- whatever. Nicholas, I'm dying right now"

Nicks eyes widened as he looked over at the director who was gesturing at him. When Ryan Murphy is working he doesn't take bullshit and just wants to get filming over with. Ryan was getting agitated but Nick lowered the phone covering the mic.

"It's shark week" he mouthed to the him. 

"So don't worry about coming over tonight, i wont be much entertainment tonight."

"Dont be silly, i love to just being around you, we dont need to talk, you know this. You presence is all I need."

"Nawee" I whined tears forming in my eyes. 

"Are you crying?" 

"No" I sobbed. 

"Look I'm still coming over, we'll be done soon."

At that he hung up.

Mum came in with Panadol and a heat pack and I took two tablets rolling over and curling into a ball eventually drifting to sleep.

- 

I woke up to see Nick sitting beside me on the bed eating pasta; his eyes fixated on the TV. I smiled and scooted closer. He looked down at me and smiled placing down his bowl on the bedside table. "Good Morning Beauty, how you going?" he ran his fingers through my hair. 

"Mmm" i mumbled contently. 

"Give me a second" he said getting up, taking the heat pack with him. After several moment he came back with the warmed heat pack. raspberry bullets and a pack of pads.

"Baby I'll be honest... I still don't get what pads you use, the worker just picked these ones out for me."

I groggily raised my head to the sound of his voice and smiled dopily slowly raising myself to sit up.

"Lay down baby" he huffed running to my side. "It's all good you just rest."

But your couldn't rest; your heart was currently exploding from all the detail, love and care Nick put into being there for you. Sure he wasn't too sure on what pads to get you but he knew raspberry bullets were your favourite and that you needed a heat pack.

"I'll just place these ones in the bathroom for when your ready." He called from down the hallway, placing the pad atop the toilet shelf.

I laid with the heat pack against my stomach as I filled my mouth with the raspberry liquorice. Nick came back into the room and grabbed my hand placing sweet kisses on it.

"Can I get you anything else Princess?" He winked while rubbing his thumb in circles on my hand.

(A/N: OH. MY. DAYS. guys with nice hands that do that lil thumb rub thing have me in a CHOKEHOLDDD!!! n ik Nick would do it all the time too)

I slightly chuckled to myself. "Come park up," I smiled tapping on the free spot next to me. With no obligations - Nicholas was quick to go back to his spot on the bed and finish his pasta.

You best believe the rest of the night was filled with cuddles and kisses.

[selfshippinglover2222]

Val and Vox when their partner gets badly hurt

Requested by the lovely, @thefandomsurfer. Thanks, love!

TW: Yandere behavior, gore mentioned, controlling and abusive behavior

Vox: 📺

Vox wouldn’t know what to do at first. He’s be shocked, paralyzed.

When that wolf demon brought the gun out and aimed for him he thought he was done for.

But then you jumped in front of him and now your laying on the ground bleeding out while he stares shocked.

“Serves the bitch right!”

Oh hell no

All the lights burst on the streets, WiFi’s cut off, tvs smoke as he feels electricity travel up and down his body in waves.

He jumped at the guy and started to electrocute him over and over and over-

Vox feels immense satisfaction at his screams and sobs, at the smell of charred flesh and fur as he didn’t stop until the breathing did

Once it was done he looked over at his partner, heart lurching in his chest as he skids on his knees over to you

“Hey, Baby, I’m here, shh, shh right here.” He lifted you up, your cries and gurgles causing him to falter as he does.

He runs with you in his arms to the limo, barking at the driver to hurry the fuck up

If you die he’s killing the driver

“Shh, Shh. Don’t speak, baby. Just look at me. Look at me, baby.” He mutters frantically as he holds you tight and close.

He’s terrified that youre going to leave him.

He’s already called the hospital and told them they had better be ready for you when you get there or he’s going to ruin all of them.

If you die he destroys the hospital, taking special care to make sure your doctors and nurses feel more pain than the others.

He also blames his driver so he kills him too.

The whole city would have a black out for days, as he searched for ways to bring you back.

If you survive…

Well.

Let’s just say Vox makes sure you never leave his floor on the Vee Tower again.

He’d be paranoid about something like that happening again.

You have a special room on his floor with a code only he knows, and he doesn’t let you out ever.

He makes sure you’re well fed (there’s sedatives in your food), bathed and clothed (there’s trackers in your clothes)

There’s even a solar window high above you, so you get to see the clouds. (To high, you’ll never be able to climb up there)

He doesn’t want to live without you. So he makes sure he won’t.

Valentino: 🦋

Valentino hears ringing in his ears as you fall to the ground, a knife lodged deep in your stomach.

“That’s what you get, cunt! You shouldn’t be so buddy buddy with someone like him!”

It was a woman. She looks vaguely familiar as she goes to kick you.

He grabbed her by the leg and twisted until a statifying crunch sounded out.

She screams. He doesn’t care.

He tears her apart, limb by limb. Her blood stains the streets as he digs his claws in her stomach, pulling out some internal organs.

He’s shouting he thinks. He feels his throat burning as he does.

“Val…”

He hears your whine and it causes him to stop. He’s covered in blood as he hurries over to you. The knife is still lodged in your stomach as you cough out blood.

“You keep your goddamn eyes open, got it?! You don’t fucking move and just stay awake.”

He moves hair from your sweaty face as he looked around, pointing to a random ino and snarling

“Call a fucking ambulance!”

“Amourcito, just-please just stay awake. You’re gonna be just fine, got it? You’ll be fine.”

If you die the streets are drenched with the blood of everyone just standing and watching. He brings out guns, he uses his claws, he just doesn’t care anymore.

He kills anyone and everyone in his path, only stopping when Vox comes to calm him down.

If you survive you better be aware of just how much more possessive and clingy he’s going to get.

I’m talking shock/tracking collars, I’m talking you’re not allowed to leave the studio without his permission, or him there.

You have a leash now for when you go outside.

He’s also not above smacking you around when you misbehave or get all brave

He’ll kill anyone for even looking at you wrong now.

All your friends are missing or just plain dead

He makes sure there’s no more threats anymore.

[clovesnz]

don’t really know how to write smut (finally edited this)

it's very heterosexual and also there is no actual spelled out sneezing. lots of nosefucky and snotfuckery. very self inserty for me. lots of uhhh dry humping? idk guys.

“Oh my god you can’t just sit there in front of me like that my horny brain is going to actually fucking explode”

He sits at the edge of the bed. She is leaned against the headboard, blushing in spite of herself as she watches him sniffle and scrunch his nose up and down, over and over, in an obvious exaggeration of what are, to be fair, very real allergy symptoms. He lets out a long, labored sniff and scrubs at his nose vigorously.

“What? What am I doing?”

His eyes are twinkling, mischievous. He’s watching her practically squirm. She can't take her eyes off his nose. It’s glowing pink from all the rubbing and irritation, and as she watches, he pinches it between two fingers and locks eyes with her, one eyebrow cocked in amusement, and wrings his hand back and fourth, producing an obnoxious, messy squelching noise.

“Stopppp oh my god you fucking evil bastard” 

“Whatt why am I evil?” 

He puts on an ironic grin of feighned innocence, eyes wide, lip slightly curled. 

“I can’t help it. It’s just…” another sniff. Another theatrical scrub.

“...my nose”

“Oh my GOD no stop it”

She’s waving her hands in his direction, feebly attempting to shew his hands off of his nose. He really is laughing at her now, the fucking asshole, and she starts to laugh too. But he’s not gonna get away with it. She scoots towards him on the bed. They’re both completely cracking up now, and between breaths of laughter she struggles to grab hold of his hands, still going at his nose. 

"You’re so…mean this is not…not…okay just…get...no no no, uh-uh… there”

She’s half on top of him, and has managed after a bit of a struggle to get his hands pinned behind his back, away from his itching nose. There. No more teasing. They are both grinning silly at each other, their faces close. Close enough that she can see a little dampness around his nostrils. But just as she’s going to kiss him, arms still holding him firmly in place, his face changes. His upper brow wrinkles, and he looks genuinely panicked enough that she loosens her grip in concern. She is about to ask what’s wrong, when he tilts his head up and takes in a sudden breath, and she realizes, completely entranced, that he’s fighting the urge to sneeze. 

His teasing facade has completely disappeared, replaced with a frantic sort of embarrassed concern.

“Shit, I swear this wasn’t…I didn’t…”

It’s like she sees it in slow motion. He brings one hand to her side to brace himself, leans the other way, takes two more wavering breaths, and then lets out a harsh, wet sneeze into the back of his wrist. She feels her stomach drop, down, a sharp ache that pangs harder when he lowers his hand to reveal two strings of clear snot running from his nose. Holy shit. Her head rushes, and her heart races, and she just…stares, frozen.

“Sorry, does that make it un-sexy?”

He cringes down at his hand, face full of the self disgust of someone who's body has made a mess that they can’t control.

“What, no! I…sorry,”  

She doesn’t know how to explain, but she also doesn’t want him feeling that way, because god, she would watch him do that all day if she could. She tries anyways,

“It got a little too real and my brain kinda short-circiuted”

But he just looks more concerned, for her now instead of himself. Fuck why can’t she get the words out right.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Too real how?" He looks down at his hand again, deciding that must be the culprit.

“Here I’ll go get something to -”

He makes to slide off the bed and grab the tissues on his desk, but she tugs him back to her by his shirt.

“No! No wait, please.” 

He turns for her, and lets her take his hands, looking back down, eyes searching. She takes a calming breath, but before she can try to make words out of the paralyzing waves of desire coursing through her, another drip of snot slides out of his left nostril, and he winces, “Ugh, sorry,” and lets go of her and reaches a hand to swipe at it. But now her brain is working enough to send signals to her body, at least, and she stops his arm, firm but more gently than when he was doing it to tease her.

“...no.”

He obeys, and lets her pull him down to her level again. He’s holding her gaze, curious. Waiting. For her to explain, to communicate. Her whole body is shaking, just a little.

“Just…”

She reaches one hand up and cups his cheek for a moment, letting her thumb graze the very edge of the sparkling wetness covering his upper lip. He accepts the touch, leaning into it,  but his eyes are still searching.

“Wh-”

Before he can ask, she lifts her other hand, and gently, methodically, the way someone might delicately run their finger over a beautiful piece of jewelry, touches the pooling snot with the tip of her pointer finger. She breathes in and shudders, her whole body zinging and tingling at the feeling of it on her fingers, and that’s when she can see it click for him.

“....oh.”

She takes another shuddering breath. She wants to do more, wants to swipe at his nose, to cover her fingers in his snot, to make him blow into them, to have it in her mouth, but it’s all so much and it’s so…it’s so odd, it’s got to be so add, to him, and now she’s too embarrassed to keep going but also too captivated to stop and she drops her hand a lets out a whimper of frustration that is maybe actually just neediness and he looks at her, just as enthralled. He’s not laughing anymore, he is all attention, his own breaths picking up pace with hers.

“Yeah?”

He’s asking her without asking. Yeah, you like me like this? You like all of it?

“....um. Yeah.”

His eyes sparkle, fiery and exited

“Oh, fuck, okay. What do you…what do you want me to do?”

It’s such an open-ended question, and a dozen deeply held fantasies, the kinds of things she never thought she'd ask of anyone, flood through her mind. But the thought of speaking to them is so scary, it’s so ingrained in her head that she’ll gross him out, that he’ll find it all too weird, and she feels that rising panic again, and it makes her want to stop all of this and curl up in a ball and hide.

“I’m..oh my god no I’m embarrassed”

She breaks away and falls back onto the bed, covering her face defensively, her cheeks prickling and burning in mortification. But he just follows, propping himself up over her, and some of her embarrassment vanishes as he lowers himself against her, because holy shit, apparently it’s not just her who is wildy, embarrassingly turned on right now. He leans down to one of her ears, and she feels the dampness of his upper lip pressed, purposefully, almost nuzzled, against her cheek as he whispers, not teasing this time but tantalizing, serious, like he’s daring her:

“Stop being embarrassed”

And it’s too much, he’s too good like this, she can’t…she wants it too badly. She groans and rocks into him, and when he gasps a little in response she catches his breath in her lips. She feels her whole body tingle and sparkle as she realizes she can taste the bit of salt still on his lips. She can’t help it - she whines, and thrusts against him again, and kisses him deeper, and steals herself and lets herself nip at his upper lip, and god when she does it she feels it, like really feels it, the snot smeared onto her own lip now. And she wants to do it again, wants it in her mouth, wants to have it, his cute red nose and his snot, so she kisses him there, right under his nose, and she feels him smile beneath her but he doesn’t flinch away, and it’s not enough so she does it again, and when he brings her back to his mouth it's encouraging, and kind of messy, and he breaks away by running kisses down her chin until his dripping nose is pressed up against her mouth. Now she’s not thinking, she’s not thinking at all she’s just wanting and so she nips at the tip of his nose and oh god she likes it so much, so she does it again but lets her tongue feel it too, and he just nuzzles into it so she lets her mouth explore. Nipping and his nostrils, gently squeezing them together with her teeth, running her tongue up his septum and around one nostril and then the other, peppering his upper lip with generous, licking kisses until all the snot there is gone, so she follows it’s path, slipping her tongue ever so slightly up to one nostril. She feels his nose twitch as she does it, and it sends a thrill through her body so she does it more, flicking it back and fourth at the opening of it. He gasps,

“You’re gonna make me…oh fuck I’m…”

And he leans to the side, disengaging to let out a forceful sneeze into his elbow. He stays turned away, frozen with his face turned upwards, building to another one.

“Hey - ”

She reaches for his crooked elbow, gently bringing it down from his face, and he catches her meaning and turns back to her right as it hits him, pitching forward into her chest with the force of the sneeze that spills out of him. Strings of snot wet the front of her t-shirt and she feels her hips thrust reactively at the pleasure of it.

“Fuck me, oh my sweetheart…” she coos, and he whimpers a little at the pet name and lets out snuffling little squeek as she presses into him harder, bold enough now to tenderly, adoringly swipe at the snot running from his twitching nose. 

“Oh..fuck, oh my darling, can you do that again?”

And he does, bending forward into her again with the force of another sneeze, and holy shit she doesn’t know if her cunt can take it she's aching so badly but he’s so preoccupied, hitching and blinking and twitching, and when he starts getting close again he leans into her again but she doesn’t want to stop watching this time so she asks,

“Hey…look at me”

And he does, obedient, meeting her gaze and keeping it until his eyes are forced shut and he sneezes, barely turning away this time, misting her face in spittle and sniffling helplessly at the aftermath. 

“Bless you”

She gasps, and his face is already crumpling again but he keeps himself level with her, and this time the spray is thicker and hits her face and god the way his whole body tenses and releases and his cock presses against her with the force of it and if he doesn’t start touching her she going to have to start touching herself.

“Uhhnn, bless you. Fuck, I-I can’t…this is…fuck”

He grins at her loss of composure, teasing again even as he fights back another sneeze, and she gasps and cries out a little as he moves against her, wrapping her legs around his waist. He laughs a little,

“Y-yeah?”

She just nods, yes, thrusting harder to emphasize the point, and god this is stupid why don’t they have their fucking clothes off already, and he’s still sniffling and hitching but he props himself on one arm and reaches to the button of her corduroy jeans and she can’t bare to wait for him to fumble with them one handed so undoes them herself and and slides them off, and he groans a little between hitches when he slides his hand under the waistband of her boxers and lets out a breath, like he's relieved to finally be there. She sucks in a breath as he begins to he tease the opening of her cunt, infuriatingly. She whines in protest and he obliges quickly, slipping two fingers inside of her and pulsing softly against her, all the while still hitching and blinking, building up to sneeze again, and she realizes after a few moments, in complete amazement, that he’s going at her harder the closer he gets to sneezing. She gasps,

“Keep… keep doing that”

And he does, faster and faster and then pulling up with his whole arm as his body shakes with it, spraying her in snot and spit and she cries out and begs, cause he’s got her so close and she needs more but he’s slowed again. He's slowed and she’ll have to wait, have to wait for the tickle to built up because that’s how this game works now. But two can play at that, so she reaches for the back of his neck, a little forceful in her want but he lets her, and she flicks her tongue against the opening of his nostril, fast, like she did before, and he matches the rhythm of it with his fingers. It’s getting faster, and she’s so fucking close with him on her and inside of her and under her tongue and she’s breathing so heavily it’s hard to keep her tongue moving but she does until he pulls back, only slightly, still going at her faster than her fucking vibrator, and his eyes flutter shut and oh god she wants it, wants to feel it, to hear it to see it to taste it and she does, right as she hits her peak, screaming out as he erupts once more, the spray landing against her open mouth, and she grabs for him desperately, ravenously, and kisses him, deep and sticky as she rides out her orgasm on his fingers.

**************

Epilogue: he pulls off her shirt and blows his nose in it and then she makes him do the same thing with his own shirt and then his pants and then her underwear and then she gets on top of him and fucks him while he sneezes all over himself but she stops before he cums and finishes him off with her hands so that she can see him make that much more of a mess of himself and then she takes him to the shower to get cleaned off and the sneezing has died down but they fuck again in the shower anyways and then she lovingly rubs soothing lotion around his irritated nostrils and forces him to take the Claratin she bought him because the whole thing started when he ran out and forgot to buy more. The end.

**************

anyways so yeah. sorrry for the weird formatting. ya girl used to read a novel every week back in high school but still doesn't know how to structure dialogue. if u read this i love you <333

[bvbygrl-writes]

Season of The Witch (7)

Pairing: Jacob Black x Witch!Reader x Edward Cullen

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: (Y/n) (L/n) is 19 and still trying to figure out the world. She isn't sure of a lot of things but she is sure of one: she's gonna have her cake and eat it too.

A/N: I had so much fun writing the past two chapters.

Warnings: Angst, minor mention of vomiting if you squint, fighting. As usual 18+ so dni if you're a minor or blank account

The feeling of bile rising rushed to your throat and you darted for the bathroom down the hall, making it to the toilet just in time. You heaved and wretched, your body shaking as your head hung above the toilet bowl. Although it took away the queasiness in your stomach, the anxiety still loomed within you. You felt dizzy and lightheaded but at the same time weighed down heavily. The dream played over and over in your head like a movie. It was overwhelming.

After taking a much needed shower and brushing your teeth, you spent the next three hours laying in your bed, staring up at the ceiling. You felt paralyzed with all the emotions you were feeling. You thought if maybe you laid there long enough you’d disappear, becoming nothing more than dust. It wasn’t working though. How were you supposed to explain this to either of them? That it was written in the stars that you belonged to them both equally?

The two men you adored were at a constant war with each other. The only time the three of you had been around each other ended with them ripping each other to shreds. Was it really possible for them both to share and love you equally when the mere mention of either of their names had them brewing with anger? 

Maybe you had misinterpreted the dream, it was completely possible. However, there was only one way you’d find out: you had to ask your mom. A deep wave of shame came over you. What would she think of you? How would she react? Groaning you rolled over, closing your eyes to keep the tears from falling. Your body shook as you sobbed into your pillow. This is what you wanted, right? If that was the case, why did you feel so sad?

When you got out of bed next, you noticed the sun was setting. Checking your phone, you noticed it was 7:00 PM. How long were you out? You also noticed the stream of texts and calls you had received. Five from Jacob, six from Edward, and one from Bella. Hers was the most recent of all of them. You muted the chats with Jacob and Edward, it was for the best right now. Opening Bella’s you decided to respond, you were sure she’d share your well being with the two of them.

Bells: Hey are you ok? Everyone’s worried : (

Your heart clenched. You couldn't help but feel bad but at the moment, you weren't sure how anyone would react. You were anxious and mentally drained.

(Y/n): I’m safe. That’s all that matters

Bells: That’s not what I asked. I asked are you doing okay?

(Y/n): Physically? Yes. Emotionally? No. I’ve got some things to figure out.

Bells: Did something happen with Edward last night? Did Jacob do something?

(Y/n): They didn’t do anything, it’s all my fault. </3

You clicked your phone screen closed before flopping back on your bed, listening as the crickets chirped outside. You turn your head as you hear your door open. Your mom walks in with a plate. A sandwich made with the bread from last night and a side of chips. She smiles sympathetically, setting the plate down on your bedside table before sitting on the side of your bed.

“Is this about the ritual?” she asks softly. You nod weakly. She nods before flopping down on her back laying next to you. She turns her head to look at you. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really but…I know I should…” you try to gather your thoughts, trying to figure out what to say. “Jacob was there. We were really happy together. But then the other guy, Edward, he was there too. In the dream They were both hugging me.” you say, deciding to omit the part where you made out with both of them. “What’s wrong with me? Am I broken?” your voice breaks, hot tears springing from your eyes. Your mom sits up, pulling you into her arms.

“Honey, no. You’re not broken at all.” she rubs your back gently. It reminds you of the same way she used to when you’d run into her and dad’s room after a nightmare. It’s comforting and calms you down just a bit. “It’s happened before. However, it’s usually only like that when the other two are occults which is why you rarely see it. Witches of the past often had two or more soulmates. Your great grandmother did.” you tense up, looking up at her.

“That’s the thing, mom. They hate each other. Jacob he’s…he’s a shape-shifter. Edward is a vampire. I think it’s just best if I don’t speak to either of them.” you sigh, sniffling as you rub at your drippy nose.

“I didn’t raise you to be a quitter (Y/n) (L/n). It’ll be difficult, sure. Down right frustrating. But are you really going to deny yourself your truest, deepest love connection?” her tone and face was stern, something you rarely saw from her. You knew she was right, but were you strong enough? “You’re a big girl and I can’t make that choice for you. But what I will say is give yourself time to think before making such a rash decision to just give up. Who knows, they might surprise you! Plus, you’re going to have to see them Friday regardless.” she was right, as she usually was. You didn’t wanna give up. And even if you did, you’d still have to speak to them Friday. The big game was coming up and you sure they’d be coming over with their fathers. You liked them both and it was clear after that dream, that they both harbored that affection for you too. You just needed time to process everything.

“Thanks, mom.” you say softly. She gives your hand a quick squeeze before standing up and heading for the door.

“You’re welcome, sweetie. Eat your sandwich, you’re gonna need it!” your stomach grumbles at the mention of food. With all your moping, you haven't eaten all day. Your stomach had been far too upset to hold anything down but water. Grabbing the sandwich, you head to your desk before pulling out your good stationery. You owed them at least some explanation for your absence.

On Tuesday, you placed a charm on your window and balcony door. You knew with your absence, that one of them would come to check on you and you were right. Many times throughout the night, you heard the windows and balcony door rattling, trying to convince yourself it was the wind.

On Wednesday, you made them each a basket with a letter. In Jacob’s was the loaf of bread your mom wanted you to send, a container of cookies that she had made that day, and a letter explaining that you were okay and that you just needed space. In Edward’s was the CD you burned for him, a copy of Napoleon Dynamite, and a similar letter. You casted a spell so they’d deliver themselves. You slept throughout the night with no disturbance but when you woke up Thursday, on your balcony was a polaroid of Jacob and the gang at La Push with ‘wish you were here!’ written on the bottom and a single rose with an ‘E’ charm attached to it. It was bittersweet. 

You felt guilty for not communicating to them directly and it was starting to hurt you too. You missed both of them equally but you felt more prepared to have the chat with them tomorrow. It was hard to focus on much of anything but you had gone over all the scenarios. The good, the bad, the ugly. There wasn’t much else you could do besides focus on you. You had been neglecting your self care and yourself, running yourself ragged. 

Examining yourself in the bathroom mirror, you nearly winced at your reflection. You had deep sunken bags under your eyes, your acne was coming back, and the skin of your body was as dry as sandpaper. Reaching into the mirror, you grabbed a turmeric face mask applying it over your face. The tub was almost completely filled up, the scent of vanilla and the bubbles luring you in. You step into the tub, letting out a sigh. Tomorrow may be fast approaching but that didn’t mean you couldn’t attempt to enjoy today.

Jacob’s temper had gotten worse since he presented, he was aware of that. But the fact that (Y/n), his (Y/n) was doing bad and he wasn’t allowed to be there for her? That made him furious. He could respect that she needed her time and space, but he couldn’t help but feel that that bloodsucker had something to do with it. Before he left to patrol the outer borders of Washington for his pack for a week, she was fine. And suddenly, after he’s back without being able to keep watch on her, she’s suddenly struggling? With misfortune, the Cullens were almost always behind it. He watched it happen with Bella and he had sat back then. But this time there was no chance in hell that he was letting Edward get away with this. 

Even though they had updated the Pact to where they could cross the borders into each other’s territory, a part of him still always had a distrust. He had come to respect Carlisle and his wife, they were kind individuals. He had even come to tolerate Alice, Jasper, Emmett and sometimes Rosalie. But Edward? He was nothing but trouble. 

As he grew closer to the house, he could see Edward was already there. Stomping onto the porch he grabbed him by his shirt, snarling in his face.

“What did you do to her?!” he screamed, Edward pushed him over, shoving him back. His eyes were a fiery gold, filled with anger. 

“I should be the one asking you that. I was with her Monday and suddenly you and the rest of the mutts came back and she won’t speak to me.” he spit out. His tone was much calmer but it still held the same venom his own did. Jacob went to swing his fist but as he did, Edward dodged it, throwing him to the ground.

“I told you to stay away from her!” he growled out, using his leg to sweep Edward. He fell down the stairs and Jacob used that to his advantage, jumping on top of him. All he could see was red, his breathing was out of control. Edward smirked up at him.

“She’s not talking to you either, is she?” Jacob froze his fist above his face.

“Stay out of my fucking head.” he seethed through gritted teeth. Edward pushed him off, Dusting himself off and Jacob was quick to follow standing up.

“I don’t need to be in your head to know you somehow managed to screw things up.” he stated matter of factly. Jacob punched him in the jaw, sending him flying back but Edward landed on his feet, returning the punch with speed. Jacob glared at him angrily, spitting blood out the side of his mouth.

“She’s too good for you.” Edward’s face faltered for a moment as he stood still before beginning to laugh again.

“Oh my god, don’t tell me…you imprinted on her? Pathetic .” Before Jacob could pounce on him, a hand was on his chest. Looking down he saw Bella, holding the two of them back.

“She’s not talking to anyone right now, not even me. And it very well might stay that way if you two keep arguing out here like children!” The silence that took over was tense. As stubborn as Jacob was, he knew Bella was right.  As he had learned many times before, fighting with Edward would lead to nothing but a lot more conflict with everyone and with how (Y/n) was currently doing, that isn’t what anyone needed right now. He huffed out, taking a few steps back.

“Do you know what’s wrong?” Edward asked, his expression full of concern. Bella shook her head.

“She didn’t go into detail but she said it’s all her fault. I have an idea of what it might be from Alice but it’s not my place to say. But what I can say is that if you two don’t get your act together, neither of you might see her again.” The two of them looked at each other, an unspoken conversation happening. They had to at least be civil for the time being.

“(Y/n)'s dad invited both our dads to the game tomorrow. She said see you Friday in my letter. Yours?” Edward asked. Jacob nodded.

“Mine too. She must be expecting us then.” he said, putting two and two together. Edward nodded in agreement.

“We need to come to an understanding. If it’s about…where she stands with us, the other one will agree to being in her life platonically only. No dirty tricks, no arguments. I’d be fine with that. I want her happiness above all.” Jacob had to think about it. It wasn’t as simple as just being able to back off. (Y/n)was his imprint. It was painful being away from her for even that week, would he be able to keep his hands off from her forever? Give up the nights where they’d fall asleep in her bed, waking up in each other's arms? ‘I don’t have to worry about that, she’s going to choose me.’

“I love her. Even just being in her presence is enough for me.” he said, choosing to ignore the way Edward rolled his eyes.

“Let’s see if you can stick to that.”

8

[daryltwdixon]

The Ruins of Us: Chapter 31

Summary: You could swear it was just another ordinary day when the world fell apart—except for the fact that being late to class might have saved your life. In the present, Daryl’s gut twists with unease; Randall is missing, and the sinking realization that he hasn’t seen you for hours sends him into a panic.

warnings: walker deaths, violence

x flashback x

The thing was, it had been such a normal morning. You were running late to class, but you stuck to your usual routine despite the ticking clock. Coffee in one hand, keys to your used Camry jangling in the other, you knocked softly on Dana’s door. Every morning, especially after a weekend party, you followed the same pattern. Opening the door just a crack, you peeked in. Dana’s head lifted up from beneath the large, muscled arm of her latest hookup. She smiled lazily and winked, and you rolled your eyes, smirking and blowing her a teasing kiss in return. She must’ve brought this one home after last night’s bonfire—the school’s traditional homecoming event. You pulled the door shut with a soft click and headed out of the apartment, mentally checking your things—keys, phone, bag, coffee... check. You rushed down the corridor, feeling the pressure of time as you headed outside.

Your ears rang at the sound of sirens passing, and when you got to the bottom of the stairs, you saw two ambulances flashing past, a couple of police cars with them. You briefly thought of Shane, wondering if he was with them. But you knew he might not be, not since his partner and best friend Rick went into the coma a few weeks ago. Shane had been avoiding your calls, but you didn’t blame him. He was probably trying to support his partner’s family through this awful time.

You were cursing yourself as you pulled out of the parking lot at 8:15. Screw 8 AMs—what kind of sadist thought cramming a hundred sleep-deprived students into a room at this ungodly hour was a good idea? As you drove down the street, you hit a roadblock. A cop was directing traffic, waving you through slowly. You craned your neck to see what had happened and caught sight of an overturned car. A person sat slumped against the wreck, blood pouring from a gash in their neck and chest. You shuddered, the horror of the scene sending a chill up your spine. No one could survive something like that.

But just as you started driving away, something made you glance back. The person who should have been dead—opened their eyes.

Your stomach twisted in a knot of nausea. No– No way. You must have imagined it. Just over tired or an illusion in the early morning light, you told yourself, shaking it off as best you could. You took a couple more sips of coffee to wake yourself up more.

Finally, you pulled onto campus at 8:30, grabbing your things and scrambling out of the car. You hurried across the quad, the usual hustle of students milling around, earbuds in, texting as they rushed to classes. You barely paid attention until you caught sight of someone stumbling across the lawn toward you, their gait unsteady, their head lolling forward like they were struggling to stay upright. There was a girl in front of you, blocking part of the view, walking towards them. You frowned. God, they looked awful. Hair astray, dead purple circles and bloodshot eyes you could see from across the lawn. Either hungover or really, really sleep-deprived.

When you turned down the lawn to the path your building was along, you heard the scream behind you. Usually, at that busy time in the morning, loud yelling and calls across the grass never jostled you. But this was different. This scream was blood-curdling. As you turned around to see what happened, you froze, the scene playing out in front of you like some kind of nightmare. Blood sprayed from the girl’s neck as the figure’s teeth ripped into her flesh. You watched, your body paralyzed in horror as the girl’s scream pierced the air, turning to just a gurgling moan.

The guy had yanked her down to the ground, sinking his teeth into her again, tearing away chunks of her skin.

He wasn’t just biting her—he was eating her.

You stood rooted to the spot, your brain struggling to process the scene in front of you. The person came away from the girl’s throat with her skin dangling from its mouth, blood oozing from the bite marks as it chewed, swallowing down pieces of her.

Finally, your brain clicked into survival mode, and you turned on the spot and ran as fast as you could. Just get to class, just go. Get to safety. You burst through the glass doors of the building, your hands shaking as you flung them open. Inside, you could hear the faint, frantic sounds of yelling from classrooms. You glanced down the hall—people were scattering, but you couldn’t make sense of the chaos. What the hell was going on?

Your classroom was just ahead. You threw the door open, only to be greeted by absolute carnage. People were screaming, running, crying as you took in the scene. Students were biting into each other’s arms, necks, faces and pulling away with flesh in their mouths, swallowing them whole. You watched as one girl’s face was ripped open by someone who looked so blue they could be dead. Suddenly, a guy who had been bitten came flying toward you, clutching his arm where blood soaked through his sleeve. His eyes were wild, panic overtaking him. You stepped aside as he shoved past you, screaming as he ran out of the room. You looked back into the room, and saw someone coming for you now. A girl, her eyes glossy, blood dripping from her teeth, was coming straight for you. Her steps were slow and clumsy, her arms outstretched, hands gnarled, veins bulging beneath her pale, gray-blue skin.

“Are you okay?” you asked her, but she didn’t reply. There was a low rasping coming from her as she clumsily came over to you, tripping over her own feet. She didn’t slow as she approached, and her blue, veiny hand reached out to you. Then, she lunged for you, teeth bared, a horrendous stench coming in her wake. You lurched away, shutting the door and turning to run. By the time you reached the lawn outside, the scene had completely unraveled into madness. People were running, bodies piling up as the sick swarmed over the fallen, tearing into flesh, ripping apart anything they could sink their teeth into. The distant wail of sirens blurred into the chaos as blood stained the grass, screams and growls filling the air like a living nightmare. Your breath came in fast, painful gasps as you sprinted your way back across the lawn. There were more sirens now, utter chaos happening outside. How it was so calm just minutes ago was beyond you.

You practically threw yourself into the driver’s seat, fumbling with the keys as your hands shook uncontrollably. Get home. Just get home. Get Dana. The thought pounded in your mind, the only thing keeping your body moving through the haze of panic. Your chest burned as you floored the gas pedal, tearing down the streets toward your apartment.

The sirens were louder now, almost constant, and you swerved past cars that were haphazardly abandoned along the road. The... the sick... the dead? Were the people even alive anymore? The memory of the way they looked almost like they were decomposing brought bile to your throat. They were out there, out on the roads now. You could still see them in your rearview mirror, staggering through the streets, dragging their mangled bodies as they closed in on anyone unfortunate enough to be in their path.

Your heart raced faster as your apartment building came into view. All you had to do was go in, get Dana, and run. You weren’t sure where you’d go, but you had to get out of the city– now.

You slammed the car door shut as you scrambled out, sprinting toward the entrance. The eerie quiet of the building set your nerves on edge. Normally, you'd hear the hum of TVs, distant conversations, the shuffle of people going about their day. Now—nothing.

The silence was suffocating as you rushed up the stairs two at a time, your heart hammering against your ribcage. You reached your apartment, your fingers fumbling with the lock before you threw the door open. Home. Safe. You had to believe it.

But the second you stepped inside, a heavy, metallic stench hit you like a punch to the gut—blood. It was thick in the air, clinging to your nostrils, souring your stomach. You froze in place, dread pooling in your gut as your eyes swept the apartment.

“Dana?” Your voice trembled, barely louder than a whisper.

No response.

Your legs moved on their own, carrying you toward her bedroom, where the sick, wet sound of chewing grew louder with every step. The door was ajar, just a crack, and your heart plummeted as you pushed it open.

The sight before you made your entire body seize.

Dana was on the bed, or rather, what was left of her. Her body lay motionless, torn open from the stomach, her intestines spilling out onto the sheets in a grotesque display of red and pink. The boyfriend from last night—the guy you swear you had just seen her cuddled up with—was hunched over her, his teeth sinking into her side. His face was smeared with her blood, flesh hanging from his mouth as he chewed with a sickening squelch.

Your knees nearly gave out, a scream rising in your throat, but you choked it down, stepping back, eyes wide with terror. Your brain struggled to catch up with what was happening—what was real. Dana was dead. He killed her. He was eating her.

The boyfriend’s head snapped up, blood dripping from his chin, his dead eyes locking onto you. His movements were jerky, unnatural, as he slowly rose from Dana’s body. You watched in horror as he let out a low, guttural growl, stumbling toward you, his hands twitching, bloodied fingers stretching out as if he was about to grab you.

Panic took over. Run.

You turned and bolted out of the room, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you raced down the hallway. Behind you, you heard him crashing through furniture, clumsy but relentless, his footsteps heavy and uneven as he pursued you.

Your mind was a blur, your body moving on instinct. Get out. Get out. Get out. But before you reached the door, your foot caught on something, sending you sprawling to the floor. Pain shot through your palms as they slapped against the hardwood, but you didn’t have time to process it. You pushed yourself up, scrambling into the kitchen.

Your eyes darted around frantically, searching for anything—a weapon, something. Your fingers brushed against the handle of a knife, and you grabbed it, clutching it tightly as you turned to face him. He was still coming, staggering toward you, his dead, bloodshot eyes never leaving you.

“Stay back!” you screamed, raising the knife, but the words were useless. He didn’t even flinch.

He lunged at you, arms outstretched, and you reacted on pure adrenaline. You thrust the knife forward, aiming for his chest, but he hardly seemed to notice. He was stronger than you expected, and before you could get away, he was on you, knocking you backward onto the floor.

Your back hit the ground with a painful thud, the air knocked out of your lungs as his cold, bloodstained hands gripped your shoulders. His teeth snapped at you, so close you could smell the rot on his breath.

With a surge of desperation, you thrust your hips upward, trying to knock him off balance, but he barely budged. His weight pressed down on you, crushing, and for a moment, you thought it was over.

But then, you remembered Dana’s playful wink, the way she kissed the air at you. No.

With a scream of raw terror, you brought the knife up again, aiming for his head this time. You drove it into his temple with all the strength you had left. The blade sank in with a sickening squelch, and he went rigid, his body jerking once before collapsing onto you.

Panting, you shoved him off, his lifeless body hitting the floor with a dull thud. You sat there for a moment, your entire body shaking uncontrollably as the reality of what just happened washed over you. Dana was dead. Her boyfriend—no, that thing—was dead.

You dropped the knife, your hands slick with blood, your mind reeling, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real.

But the blood on your hands, on the floor, said otherwise.

x flash forward x

Daryl

Everyone is panicked as they search the barn for the kid. He’s nowhere to be seen, save for the strip of fabric that was around his eyes and the discarded duct tape crumbled on the ground.

The group gathers quickly, tension buzzing through the air like static. Rick’s barking out orders, his voice sharp as he directs people to spread out, to search the perimeter, but Daryl’s mind is already somewhere else. His chest tightens with every passing second as they scour the barn, overturning crates, looking for any sign of what happened.

T-Dog keeps shaking his head, muttering under his breath, “I swear, he was here. Ain’t no way he could’ve gotten out by himself.”

“Door was secure from the outside,” Hershel states, closing the door to show the lock.

“I had left the keys in em’” T-Dog says, clapping a hand over his face, “but still–he wouldn’t of been able to get out,”

Rick crouches by the opened chains, his face dark, eyes scanning the ground of the barn “These weren’t broken,” he says, his voice low, more to himself than anyone else. “Someone let him out.”

Daryl’s standing off to the side, his crossbow slung over his shoulder, but his mind isn’t on the prisoner anymore. A gnawing feeling digs deeper into his gut, a tightness in his chest he can’t ignore. His eyes scan the yard, the trees, the paths leading out from the barn. Something’s off. 

And then his heart skips a beat– You. Where the hell were you?

He swallows hard, his gaze sweeping over the group. Everyone’s accounted for—Rick, T-Dog, Andrea, Hershel, Glenn—but not you. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw you…this morning, maybe? Had it been that long? No, he saw you going into the house this afternoon to help pack things into the rooms. But after that, he can’t remember seeing you again.

“Rick,” Daryl’s voice comes out rough, sharper than he means, but the panic is starting to claw its way up his throat. “You seen Y/N?”

Rick pauses, glancing over at him with a furrowed brow. “She was around earlier, right?”

Daryl’s jaw tightens. He already knows the answer. You’re not here. He can feel it in his bones, that gut-deep instinct that something’s wrong, that you’re not just off doing some chores. The realization hits him like a freight train—if Randall’s gone, and you’re not here...

Without waiting for a response, Daryl strides out of the barn, his heart racing, his breath coming faster as he starts scanning the woods. The panic rising in him feels unfamiliar, out of his control, but he can’t stop it. The thought of you out there alone—especially with that kid, maybe trying to gain your trust, get you to come with him—makes his skin crawl.

“She’s gone too,” Daryl mutters, half to himself. The words taste bitter, each one twisting tighter in his chest.

Rick is behind him now, his voice tight with concern. His eyes widen as he looks to the woods, “you think she…?”

Daryl doesn’t answer, doesn’t need to. His mind is racing, piecing together the only thing that makes sense. You must have gone after Randall. Maybe you thought you could fix things, stop all this from blowing up. But that only means one thing: You’re out there with him. Alone.

Daryl’s blood runs cold. “ Damn it ,” he growls, hands gripping his crossbow tighter, his legs already moving as he starts toward the woods. “I’m gonna find her.” 

The group exchanges glances, the weight of the situation sinking in for all of them. They’ve lost track of both Randall and you, and the realization that you might be in danger has Daryl on edge in a way no one’s ever seen before.

Rick steps up beside him, hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find her, Daryl. Where’s Shane? Someone go get him. We’ll get her back.”

Rick hurriedly tells Glenn to go with him, it’s too dark to be out there alone.

But Daryl barely hears Glenn running behind him. His mind is locked on one thing— finding you before it’s too late.

[thehypnone]

Sundown: Chapter 13

WC: 1,7K

Relationship: SwissAlps

Tags: AU; Cowboy!Swiss x Barmaid!Mountain, Transfeminine Mountain, Blood, Injury, Flashbacks/Retrospection, Near Death Experience, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Fluff

“Funny! I doubt anyone would wanna put up with the little ol' me.” “You're not so bad,” Sunshine admits and pulls another chuckle out of Swiss with it. “Why, that is high praise indeed, dear sister!”

Playlist here. / Chapter 1 here or on AO3.

Read chapter 13 under the cut or on AO3.

“Swiss!” Mounty yells, throwing herself on her knees next to him, patting his cheeks and begging him to wake up. Rain and Dewdrop look at them with confusion and worry as Phantom jumps into action. “Swiss, stay with me, please, wake up!”

The medic is silent as they check his vitals. Mounty can’t take that, “Tommy, what’s wrong with him!?”

“Dunno yet,” they mumble. He’s breathing and his heart is still beating, but it’s weak. “It’s not his head, that’s just a scratch. Help me undress him.”

Mounty obliges, all but tearing Swiss’ bloodied clothes off of him. Now that she thinks about it, there was no way of knowing if at least some of all that blood was his own or not. Tears well up in her eyes, she can’t breathe; if she thought she was scared before, she’s paralyzed with fear now.

Phantom peels Swiss’ wet shirt away to reveal a deep laceration, nearly a stab wound, through half of his stomach. Mounty gasps and puts a hand against her mouth, now sobbing in earnest and shaking.

“Shit,” the medic mutters and similar expressions can be heard from Dewdrop and Rain, the latter turning to hide against the other’s neck as he holds him.

“Can you fix him?” Dewdrop asks, whispering. Mounty hears it anyway and looks up at Phantom with pleading eyes, needing to hear the answer; needing it to be a confident yes.

“That’s a lot of blood and it’s so deep, I don’t…I don't know,” they admit instead.

“Swiss! Don't be mean,” Sunshine pouts, but it’s obvious she can barely hold back her laugh.

“Sorry, sis, it's just a little silly to me!” Swiss, on the other hand, doesn’t even try to get rid of the bright grin on his face. “Why would you be planning it all now, you've never even had a boyfriend.”

“Because when it's time I want it to be perfect!” she exclaims. Her brother found her with a small journal, sketching something that turned out to be Sunshine’s dream wedding venue.

“You do realize any guy would have to pass my super secret and scary are-you-worthy-of-my-little-sister test first, right?” Swiss teases, though both of them know it’s not entirely a joke. He’ll be the last to ever let his little sister’s heart be broken by a man.

“Shut up!” the girl finally laughs fully. “You ain't gonna scare my future boyfriends, I want to have a husband before I'm eighty!”

“I absolutely will scare your future boyfriends and you might get a husband before you're eighty. If you pick the right guys, that is.”

“Idiot,” Sunshine grumbles under her breath, huffing and glancing back down at her notebook. “Don't you ever think about how you want your wedding to look like?”

“Eh, I don't know, Sunny,” Swiss sighs and sits down next to her with his legs crossed. “I don't think I'm a marriage kinda dude.”

His sister hums, “You'll change your mind when you find the right one.”

“Funny! I doubt anyone would wanna put up with the little ol' me.”

“You're not so bad,” Sunshine admits and pulls another chuckle out of Swiss with it. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and brings her closer. She squirms but giggles as he ruffles her already unruly hair.

“Why, that is high praise indeed, dear sister!” the man laughs. They’re quiet for a bit, when it dies down, both enjoying their little moment.

“But you would invite me,” Sunshine interrupts it after a while, “right?”

“What?”

“To your wedding?” she clarifies.

“I could consider it.”

“Swiss!” his sister wriggles out of his hold and playfully punches him in the chest.

“Oh, fine! Yes, I would invite you, and knowing you you'd somehow end up a bridesmaid.”

“Or a best…woman. I could be your best woman!” Sunshine cheers, clapping at her cleverness.

Swiss shakes his head but there’s so much fondness in it. “Sure, sure.” 

“‘Tis settled.” The girl nods with a face of a fancy businessman that has just made a billion dollar deal.

Swiss furrows his brows in somewhat of a challenging expression. “Only if you bring every man you wanna date for an interrogation with me beforehand.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

First thing that Swiss notices is how dry his mouth is. He breathes heavily through his nose and feels pain radiating from his middle as his chest rises. He’s slow to come to full realization of himself, each sense waking up and tuning in to his surroundings separately.

Finally, Swiss opens his eyes. They’re sticky and his vision is blurry, but he can see.

He can see his girl.

He clears his throat before rasping with his voice gravelly from unuse, “Hi, Momo.”

The vague shape of Mounty raises a hand and suddenly it’s on his cheek, slapping him across the face with all the barmaid’s might. The additional pain that blooms because of it makes him sober up in a second.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again!” Mounty scolds him; well deserved.

He's not dead, then.

“Not planning to,” he admits and lets out a chuckle that hurts him all over. “Ow…”

The next thing he knows it’s the barmaid’s lips on his own chapped ones as Mounty kisses the breath out of him. She doesn’t pull away for what feels like a small eternity and he couldn’t be more grateful. He can’t really grasp—and he doesn’t want to, anyway—the events of the previous day, but the relief of being there safe with his girl could still just about make him cry.

It indeed is a while before they really part and it’s only because they’re interrupted by Phantom accompanied by a man that looks familiar, but Swiss is sure is a stranger.

“I'm Aether, Phantom's brother,” he introduces himself and the feeling of familiarity suddenly makes sense. “The two of us patched you up. Literally, you’ve got a bunch of stitches in ya, so no moving around for now.”

“Ah, heard a lot about you,” Swiss grunts with a nod, indeed feeling the sore skin around his wound being pulled by the stitches, “And a simple thank you ain’t enough for saving me, but…well, thank you.”

“No worries,” Aether smiles kindly. He’s got the same cunning, yet kind, glint in his eyes that Phantom does and the cowboy thinks he’d like getting to know him. “I’m just glad I was here to help, you got Phantom scared shitless.”

“Yeah, you’re a fucking madman, you know that?” Phantom throws their arms up. They do look rather agitated, even though they had time to calm down since the initial incident. Apparently it’s been nearly twenty-four hours. “I have no idea how you’re alive right now, do you understand me, Swiss?”

“Sorry…” Swiss grumbles. He really does feel guilty, he was behaving like a feral animal and scared them all more than it was necessary. Not that he could’ve really helped it when Mounty was in danger, though.

“Okay, now, kid, give him a break,” Aether pats his sibling’s shoulder, “he’s got his punishment for scaring you all.”

Swiss nods and  Aether insists on leaving him and Mounty alone (after informing that the former should heal nicely provided he rests properly, and that the latter’s sprained ankle should be forgotten about in less than a week) and Phantom ultimately obliges, but not before cursing the cowboy’s madness once more. Everyone agrees that they do have a point.

Rain and Dewdrop pop in for a moment after them, bearing gifts in form of warm dinner and booze—apparently approved by Aether the doctor. They also curse Swiss’ madness before leaving, naturally.

Once they’re really alone again, Mounty heaves out a tired sigh and lays down with her head on Swiss’ chest. Neither of them falls asleep nor closes their eyes, but the minutes—or hours—they spend like that are the most restful either of them had in what feels like ages.

Mounty is the first to move again, of course. Swiss won’t admit it out loud—at least not seriously—but he’s in a lot of pain; his biggest wound isn’t the only one. She leans over him and pressed their lips together again—and the kiss gets more heated with every second; they both need the closeness.

The barmaid is gentle when she throws a leg over his lap and raises on her knees to straddle him. She descends slowly and carefully so as not to jostle the wounded man too much as she sits on the top of his thighs.

Swiss instinctively raises his arms to touch her but pauses, hanging his hands in the air between the two of them.

“In the barn, did you–” he mutters, but can’t bring himself to spit the question out fully as he stares at his hands. They're clean now, but the cowboy can't wipe the image of them all bloodied from his mind.

So much blood on his hands and yet the barmaid places her own delicate ones over his and brings them to her hips.

“I ain't seen nothing, cowboy,” Mounty tells him; calmly, softly—knowing what is going through his head, “all I know is that you saved me. You saved me, Swiss. Alright?”

He wishes it were so easy to overlook what he’s done, but for the time being it’s fine. He’s fine and so he nods and gives himself up to his girl in entirety once again.

Mounty takes her hands off of Swiss’ and reaches for his hat that’s resting on the windowsill. She puts it on her own head and the cowboy knows exactly what she’s trying to say. She brings her elegant fingers to the buttons of her shirt and starts popping them open. Swiss can't tear his eyes away from the growing bit of exposed skin as his cock begins to chub up in his pants.

“I'm gonna ride you tonight, cowboy,” Mounty whispers and finally opens her shirt to reveal her gorgeous tits, “and you're going to just lie still and take it like a champ. We don't want to pop your stitches, do we?”

“Boobies…” he sighs as he lets go of the barmaid’s hips to make grabby hands at Mounty’s chest, his mind cleared of everything but her tits now.

“Yeah, you're gonna watch ‘em bounce and forget about everything else, darling, aren't you?”

Swiss drools a little as he nods.

.

.

.

.

.

edit: about the cowboy hat thing

[notmyprey]

Guys, I have to share this experience cause oml-

So I was at work (I work at a grocery store), and normally, when customers look lost, I ask if they need help finding something.

There was this one lady, looking a bit lost as she stared at the frosting and cake mixes, so I asked if she needed help. She says no, and that she was just looking at the food because she can't eat it, but it's nice to remember. I tell her there are gluten free options down the aisle if that would be something she likes.

She said that's not the problem, that rather her stomach is paralyzed.

This has me thinking now about preds with digestive issues:

(Please tell me if I get anything here wrong. I want to represent this right, as this is a serious topic, and many people suffer from digestive issues, me included).

Preds who can't eat normal food and haven't tasted cake in years, just for a prey to come along that tastes like cake to help them taste what they have wanted for so long.

Preds with overeating disorders, feeling really hungry, but knowing they are just feeling sad. They eat their prey friend to not only help the hunger, but also cause how can you be sad with a friendo in your tum.

Preds with under-eating disorders who constantly puke up what they eat. Their prey friend helps them slowly adapt to eating more without wasting a bunch of food and without pressuring the pred to eating a bunch of food (which can be overwhelming for some).

Preds who have IBS and can't eat garlic or onion (me). They tend to like prey who remind them of garlic or onion.

Preds who are lactose intolerant who eat prey that taste like ice cream.

I feel like this whole topic is so under explored.

[schrijverr]

That’s my Husband, You Sick Son of a Bitch!

Divergence from chapter 29, where Eddie doesn’t get stopped and rushes in to fight the bomber, because that is husband and he will not let this stupid kid kill him. Though, maybe punching him in the face and loudly declaring Buck his husband, wasn’t his best plan.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie

Warnings: injury, violence

~~~

There is lead in Eddie’s stomach, a fear he hasn’t felt since he was pinned in the desert somewhere, almost certain he was never going to see Chris or Buck ever again. It’s been there since he first realized Buck was in that other truck and it hasn’t left the entire time.

Right now, Bobby is steadily trying to come closer to Freddie, his arms raised as he says: “I’m here now. So, what’s next? It’s what you wanted.”

“Wanted you dead,” Freddie tells him.

And vindictively, Eddie thinks: ‘I want you dead,’ the thought taking root as anger flushes through his veins. Anger is better to feel than that ever present gnawing fear. Anger is uncontrollable, but it’s less paralyzing. Anger, Eddie knows how to work with.

“I get that, but what about them?” Bobby counters, keeping his cool and gesturing the other injured firefighters. Then he points at Buck and asks: “What about him?”

Eddie just freezes at the words, the tiny tendrils of fear clawing at the anger he’s cultivating as he’s boiling behind that truck. Because what is Bobby thinking, getting the attention on Buck like that. It’s like he doesn’t see the bomber right there next to Buck, ready to, oh, I don’t know, bomb him?

Oblivious to Eddie’s thoughts, Bobby continues on talking: “He’s got parents, a sister, friends, people that rely on him. And he never did anything to you. He wasn’t even a firefighter when your father burned down that restaurant.”

Hearing Bobby say that, hits him in the gut, because it’s such a gross under-representation of who Buck is, of all the people that care about him. Of all the people that he cares about. Sure, he has parents, but they suck, but he also is a parent. He’s one of the best goddamn parents Eddie knows. And he’s a parent with Eddie. He’s his partner. His co-parent. His husband.

And yes, it’s not like that, but that doesn’t matter right now, because Bobby is trying to convince this shithead that Buck is a life that is worthy of saving, worthy of letting live, and he can’t do that properly, because he doesn’t have all the facts. He doesn’t know.

Eddie longs to correct him, to yell out that Buck is his fucking husband and this shithead needs to let him go right now, because he can’t do it without him. However, before he can, Freddie is answering Bobby, coldly shrugging: “Collateral damage.”

The disinterested tone in which he says it, cuts through Eddie. He knows that tone. That’s the tone of someone, who doesn’t care. Of someone, who has nothing left to lose. Of someone, who will let Buck die. He cannot let Buck die.

Without a thought, he’s up, moving forward as fast as his feet can carry him as anger takes over, turning into focus. Hands briefly brush against his uniform, trying to grab at him, but he’s faster and stronger, shrugging them off.

He needs to act, he needs to help Buck, he needs to punch something.

And he does. Almost on autopilot, years of boxing that he was forced into in high school, all the sparring he did to blow off steam, the time he spend in the army, it just takes over, and his fists connects with Freddie’s face as he screams out: “That’s my husband, you sick son of a bitch! Not your fucking collateral damage!”

Freddie is stunned by the impact, going down and dropping the trigger to catch himself, while throwing the other hand up to protect his face. Eddie had all but forgotten about the bomb in his rage, but he puts it out of his mind the second he got Freddie’s hands pinned and the button is out of reach again.

It’s fighting dirty, what he’s doing, but he doesn’t care, fist coming down on the guy’s face as he seethes: “You don’t,” punch, “get to,” punch, “take my kid’s,” punch, “dad,” punch, “from him.”

Before, he can punch again, people are grabbing him and roughly pulling him away from Freddie, whose nose is open and bleeding. He’s getting cuffed and a bomb squad is moving in, but Eddie is not treated kindly either.

He’s being restrained and he struggles against them. It’s not even that he’s trying to get another swing at Freddie, it’s just that the adrenaline is still rushing through him, still telling him to act. And he knows that even if Freddie is gone, Buck is still there. Buck still needs him.

So, he’s pushing and kicking, trying to get them away so he can see Buck. He’s hearing nothing, the harsh voices telling him to calm down not getting through to him at all.

It’s not until Athena is in front of him, slapping his cheek, that he snaps out of it and hears her voice say: “Eddie Diaz, you better calm down right now. Or I’m going to have to arrest you.”

“Buck. Buck still needs me,” Eddie wheezes, not entirely stopping the fight.

“And you can’t do shit for Buck if you don’t calm the fuck down,” Athena tells him without mincing her words.

“Okay. Okay,” Eddie says out loud to himself, taking breaths as he unclenches his muscles. At some point, rough gloved hands tentatively let him go, before people are stepping away when he doesn’t do anything more stupid.

Athena is sending him a weird look, but she doesn’t comment on anything that just went down, which Eddie is grateful for. Instead, she puts a comforting hand on his shoulder and leads him over to where Buck is, Hen already working on him, while Chimney tries to coordinate rescue.

Buck looks to be in complete agony, but still conscious. In an almost out of body experience, Eddie kneels down next to him, gently taking his hand and putting it on his lap. He stares at the appendage for way too long, tracing its every line, before he breathes out: “Buck…”

“Hey,” Buck tries to crack a grin, but he isn’t fully successful.

“Hi,” Eddie replies with a small voice.

“You just totally fought that guy for my honor,” Buck says, his eyes sparkling with something Eddie can’t place, despite the pain.

“Uh, I did.”

“That was pretty stupid,” Buck tells him, then adds: “But also pretty cool.”

“I’m, uh- I’m glad you think so,” Eddie chuckles, unsure how he feels about that, or what to say to it beyond what he already did.

However, he doesn’t have to figure that out right now, because Buck hisses in pain as something shifts and grips Eddie’s hand in a death grip, while his eyes flutter close.

Eddie’s eyes whip over to Hen’s face. He’s been so out of it, he hasn’t gotten the wits to pull out his medic professionalism, too focused on making sure Buck was still alive, feeling his warm hand in his own.

“Here.” Hen pushes a bunch of medical equipment in his hands as muscle memory takes over. Then she turns to Buck and says: “So, Eddie’s husband, tell me more about that.”

“Tha’s me. ‘m Eddie’s husband,” Buck murmurs, his eyes opening to slits. It’s clear the blood loss and whatever other injuries he may have are starting to hit him hard.

“Hen,” Eddie hisses, “is this the time?”

She sends him an unimpressed look and says: “He needs to stay conscious, in order to do that he needs to keep talking. I’m keeping him talking.” Then to Buck she goes: “What were you about to say?”

“’m Eddie’s h’sb’nd,” Buck smiles at her and Eddie has to blush and look away when he sees it. Then in a hushed whisper, Buck adds: “Bu’ y’re not ‘llowed to t’ll any’ne.”

Amused, Hen promises: “I won’t.”

“H’s s’nice,” Buck tells her conversationally and Eddie wants to tell him to shut up, but they do need him conscious and a small part of him preens at the admission.

“Oh, is he?”

“Y’ah, he ‘s,” Buck says, voice appearing to gain power as he gushes about Eddie. “But h’s also s’ch a bitch s’metimes, but it looks s’good on ‘im. ‘e looks s’xy wi’h his hands on his h’ps, cocky li’le f’cker.”

Eddie chokes on a noise and busies himself with making sure Buck is getting fluids, while ignoring the way Hen is looking at him. He never thought of himself as a bitch, even though he can admit now that he is sometimes. However, Buck finding it sexy on him makes him feel all squirmy, though he doesn’t know what to do with that.

“G’eat back up at par’nt-t’acher conf’renc’s,” Buck continues on, oblivious to Eddie’s struggles and only making them worse. “H’s a g’eat dad too. Chris loves t’e shit outta ‘im and I love t’e way he smiles wh’n Chris ‘s in t’e room.”

Desperately Eddie looks over to where their meager back up is getting into position to lift the engine of Buck’s foot. He and Hen are staying right there to monitor Buck and pull him out. No one seems to expect him to move away from Buck, which he is grateful for, though he can’t fully comprehend why.

“It’s t’e cri’kles, ya’ know, ‘round h’s ey- AHHH!” Buck cuts himself off with a scream when the engine gets minimally lifted and Eddie and Hen tug at him, hoping to get him free.

His hand has Eddie’s in a death grip once more, but he can’t bring himself to care about the pain, just gripping back, hoping it will be a comfort. It has to be, because it’s all he can give right now. All he can do to help. No matter how much more he would rather be doing.

But it’s not enough. Not enough people, not enough manpower.

Eddie can’t name half the feelings that are swirling around in his chest, but he knows one of them is desperation. Hopelessness. He is never good enough and right now, he feels it more than ever. Without his permission, tears well up in his eyes and he looks over to Bobby desperately, asking: “Is there anything on the truck we can use for leverage?”

Bobby crushes any hope he has of getting Buck out sooner. “No, we need more people.”

“It hurts,” Buck says in a small voice and Eddie’s heart breaks.

Without conscious thought, his free hand comes up to card through Buck’s hair as he attempts to soothe him: “I know. I know. We’ll get you out, I promise. I’m right here, just keep holding onto my hand. I got you. I always got you.”

He barely has the mind to focus on the people breaking through the barrier to come help. He is grateful to them for helping them get Buck out, but he can’t even think of them. Instead he is completely zeroed in on Buck, only noticing the bystanders to the extend that he acknowledges when they allow for him and Hen to pull Buck free, before he gets caught in the whirlwind of getting Buck on the backboard and into the ambulance.

Buck keeps groaning and whimpering in pain and each time it slashes through Eddie’s soul. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget those wounded noises.

In the ambulance, it’s clear that Eddie isn’t driving along as a medic, but as family of the victim. Hen and Chimney flutter about him, keeping Buck stable, and Eddie just sits there, holding his hand.

As they work, they keep Buck busy with questions or comments, prompting him to keep talking. It appears that Buck has decided that Eddie is a great topic, which means Eddie spends the whole drive with fear for Buck’s life and embarrassed fondness warring in his chest.

But what else is he supposed to do, but burn worriedly when Buck slurs: “H’s t’e b’st thin’ tha’ happen’d to me.”

What is he supposed to do, but grip Buck’s hand tightly and pray that he’s making it through this, because Eddie feels like his insides are going to crawl out of his mouth and like he is going to shed all his skin. He feels hot all over and cold to the core, uncomfortable at Buck’s words, but also pleasantly buzzed on them, heat flooding through his veins.

By the time they get to the hospital, his ears feel like they’re going to fall off with how hot they are and his insides are more squirmy than ever.

At that point, the fluids they’ve been giving Buck are beginning to work their magic and Buck’s eyes clear up a little more as they roll him towards the hospital. Panic flashes in his blue eyes as he looks at Eddie and he chokes out: “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just focus on making it through this, okay? I’m here. I’m right here. I’m always going to be here,” Eddie assures him with a pained smile. It’s not pained because he blames Buck for giving them away, but because Buck blames himself for that, even when he is in so much pain. The stupid self sacrificing idiot.

“You will?” Buck asks, voice heartbreakingly fragile.

“I will,” Eddie promises, because there isn’t a cell in his body that would ever think differently.

Buck smiles gratefully at that, but doesn’t say anything else, clearly too exhausted. Eddie should be letting go of his hand now, but he can’t bring himself to. He fears that if he lets go of Buck now, he might lose him forever and that’s a reality he cannot imagine.

In the end, Chimney has to gently pry his fingers off of Buck’s hand so they can hand him over to the hospital. As he does, he shushes him: “It’s alright Eddie, you’ll see him again. Buck’s a though cookie, he’ll make it. You’re not going to lose your husband, I promise.”

It’s not a promise they are allowed to make to patients or loved ones in their line of work, but it doesn’t even register to Eddie. Instead, it’s as if something has been knocked loose in his chest and a realization floods through his veins; Eddie is in love with Buck.

This whole time, he hadn’t even realized that he never corrected anyone’s assumption about the nature of their relationship. He’d been so focused on Buck that he didn’t even question it. Embarrassed by the way he was waxing poetry, sure, but also pleased. Happy.

It suddenly makes so much sense to him. Why it was so hard with Shannon, but so easy with Buck. The way he kept finding reasons to not divorce Buck, to keep him close. The way it hurt when he had to suggest a divorce, the relief when Buck didn’t want to.

Eddie wanted to Buck to say those things about him. Still wants him to. He loves him and he might have just lost him forever, before he even got to bask in it or say it back.

The crushing reality that he is gay and in love with his husband, who is his best friend and co-parent, crashes over him and he nearly buckles under the force of it. He stands there at the entrance of the hospital, shaking. He can’t deal with all of this right now.

His lip wobbles and he bites it harshly to stop it, mechanically straightening his spine and choppily marching into the hospital. He needs something to do. Something to keep himself together. He snatches the hospital sign in paperwork for Buck out of some poor nurse’s hands, before anyone else can. His hands shake, but he forces his penmanship to be neat. Buck can’t die at his hands due to illegibility of his handwriting. Not before Eddie can tell him.

As he fills everything in in a frenzy, Hen and Chimney are hovering behind him, watching him with worried brows as they share meaningful looks with each other. Eddie ignores them, just like he’s ignoring the turmoil inside. He has a job to do right now.

However, in this very smart plan, he’d forgotten that his job was a small one. When the paperwork is handed over to the hospital, Eddie is left adrift again and it all hits him like a tidal wave once more.

No matter how much he hates it and tries to fight it, tears well up in his eyes and he chokes on a sob as he collapses on the waiting room chair between Chimney and Hen, crying: “I love him. Oh my god, I love him and I didn’t tell him.”

“It’s okay, Eddie,” Chimney rubs his back. “A lot was happening.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he knows you do,” Hen comforts him too, arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“No, he does- doesn’t,” Eddie cries, hiccuping over his words. “He doesn’t because I never- I never told h-im. Because I’m an- an idiot, who didn’t- didn’t even real- realize that I l- lo-ve him until now.”

Behind his back Hen and Chimney exchange another look, before Hen tentatively asks: “What do you mean you didn’t realize you love Buck until now? I- uh, I thought you two are married.”

“We are,” Eddie sniffles, wiping at his tears. “It’s a- a con- convenience thing.”

Chimney chokes on his spit and start coughing. Eddie can feel Hen pushing him lightly from behind his back, but he doesn’t comment on it, cheeks burning in embarrassment. He knows how stupid it sounds now, he feels like an idiot already. No need to make it worse.

“Can I ask how that happened?” Hen asks gently, while Chimney continues to try and get his breathing under control.

“It’s a long story,” Eddie mumbles, the every present shame of not being good enough weighing down on his chest.

“I mean, we have time, but it’s okay if you don’t want to tell us right now,” Chimney says, having gained control of himself. “Though, gotta say, man, little offended we didn’t get invited to the wedding.”

That gets a wet chuckle out of Eddie, which was probably the point. He glances over at Chimney and manages to crack a smile: “Sorry. Though it would’ve been a little difficult, since we got married back in 2016.”

He watches with a bit of amusement as the gently joking expression on Chimney’s face gets wiped off by shock, eyes bulging out of their sockets. On his shoulder Hen’s hand spasms, probably also in surprise.

Eddie bites his lip, this time to stop the smile, then looks out into the waiting room with unseeing eyes, lost in the memories. “We met in 2015 in El Paso. Buck worked on a chicken farm and I’d just returned from my second tour. He was actually seeing Shannon at the time.”

“As in your ex-wife Shannon?” Chimney asks, sounding shocked yet also gleefully invested. Eddie can’t help but be fond at the nosiness.

“Yeah,” Eddie says with a crooked-smile. “Probably should have realized it then, with how little I cared about it. How a part of me was happy she was, that maybe she just cheated and that’s why she left. That I was normal.”

“Oh, Eddie,” Hen sighs and she pulls him into her side.

Eddie goes willingly. The realization from earlier suddenly stuck in his throat like a missed bone in a fish. Tears start up again. He hadn’t even realized how hard admitting that would hit, until he said it and now he struggles to swallow it away.

He curls into Hen’s side more, hiding his face in her neck. He shouldn’t be doing this, showing weakness the way he is, but he can’t bring himself to care. Buck is in surgery and Eddie has never felt so scared before, except maybe when it was Chris. He needs the comfort of his friends.

The tears start up again and he weeps silently into Hen’s uniform. Hen doesn’t comment on it, just pulls him closer and holds him tight, while Chimney continues rubbing his back. Eddie doesn’t know what he did to deserve people like this, but he’s so grateful.

They’re interrupted by Maddie rushing in, looking a mess, frantic, worried and confused. Eddie cringes away from her, scared to face her now. He’s always wanted Maddie to like him – another thing that makes more sense in hindsight – and he fears the probably somewhat right accusations she might throw at him when she gets there.

Both Hen and Chimney can feel how he tenses up and after a silent moment of communication, Chimney squeezes his shoulder, before getting up to catch Maddie. Eddie loves him for it. It’s Eddie’s duty as a brother-in-law, but he feels too wrung out.

They watch Chimney talk lowly to her, arms making calming gestures, while Maddie’s arms move wildly. After a bit, Chimney grabs her shoulders and says something intently, then Maddie collapses into a hug and clings tight while Chimney holds her.

“Did Maddie know?” Hen asks softly after a few moments.

“No,” Eddie says with a small voice. “No one, but my family does. Buck wanted to tell her, but he didn’t want to make her keep that secret from Chimney.”

“Self sacrificing idiot,” Hen says fondly, echoing Eddie’s earlier thoughts, so he can only hum in agreement.

Chimney leads Maddie away, probably to calm her down some more. Eddie can’t help but note how good a match they are, making a mental note to mention it to Buck, soothe some of his worries. Before his chest twists again with the reminder that that might not be possible.

Fresh tears well up and he buries his face in his hands and lets Hen comfort him again. Later he’s probably going to want the ground to swallow him over it, but right now, he just thinks about how nice it is to be held like this. He can’t remember the last time he let anyone hold him like this.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed, but the tears have gone from full on tears to silent weeping to little sniffles by the time someone nudges him.

When he blinks a few times and rubs the crud out of his eyes, he finds Athena there, holding out a bottle of water to him, a gentle motherly look on her face. “Here, drink this, baby. I’ll need to take your statement after, is that okay? You feel up for that?”

“Thank you.” Clumsily, Eddie takes the bottle from her, struggling with the cap for a second, before chugging half, then forcing himself to take small sips. He didn’t even realize how thirsty all the crying made him until now.

Then the rest of her sentence registers and he wipes his mouth, before looking to the floor and hunching in on himself. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

“Well, we need a statement, but it doesn’t have to be now. We can do it later,” Athena offers.

“No, it’s okay,” he gives her a watery smile. “I can do it now. Not much else to do but wait.”

Sympathy flashes over Athena’s features, before she gets everything ready to take his statement. “So, can you tell me what happened, Eddie?”

“Uh, we- we heard Bobby – Captain Nash – on the radio, which was a little odd, since he’s, you know, suspended right now,” Eddie starts, recounting everything that happened from then until he gets to attacking Freddie. “He just sounded so cold, you know. The way he said it. ‘Collateral damage.’ He didn’t care if Buck lived or died. I- I couldn’t just stand there anymore, you know.”

“I think so, but can you tell me more?” Athena prompts.

Eddie swallows uncomfortably, then says: “He had Buck. He would have let Buck die. I- I couldn’t let him do that, not when- not when he had to come home to me. To Chris. Uh, Christopher, our son,” he clarifies for the record.

Athena probably had gathered some bits and she is a professional to the core, but Eddie can see the way her face twitches slightly when he says ‘our son.’

He continues: “I acted before I could even think about it. It was instinct taking over. I couldn’t let him kill Buck, couldn’t let Chris lose another parent after his mom already walked out on him and I had to leave him to serve in the army. I couldn’t do that to him. And I couldn’t lose Buck. So, I acted.”

“And the way you kept punching?” Athena asks, not judgmentally, though Eddie still feels it.

“Uh,” he looks away. “Adrenaline, I think. All the fear coming out. I mean, I saw the trigger to the bomb so close by still, I felt like I had to stop him. So I pinned him, tried to knock him out. I probably should have stopped, but I wasn’t thinking.”

Athena hums to herself as she nods, looking over her notes. Then follows up: “Was that also the reason you kept struggling after you two had been separated?”

Eddie blushes at that and admits: “In part. Another part was that Buck was still out there. He needed to me, so I had to get to him, but they weren’t letting me. In the heat of the moment, it didn’t register who they were and what they were doing. When I snapped out of it, I stopped,” he adds in defense of himself.

“I know,” Athena smiles. “And can you state for the record what your relationship is with Buck, or Evan Buckley?”

“He’s my family,” Eddie says without missing a beat. Then he grimaces as he says: “It’s a little complicated, but he’s my husband and my co-parent. My best friend. I love him.”

“Thank you, Eddie,” Athena tells him, then puts away all her official stuff. She is done with taking his statement and Eddie relaxes slightly. Once she has everything tucked away, she asks: “And how are you feeling?”

“Terrified,” Eddie confesses.

“He’ll be okay,” Athena assures him. “Buckaroo is too stubborn for anything else.”

Eddie gives her a teary yet grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Then Bobby speaks up: “We’re here for you two. All of us.” Eddie hadn’t even noticed him coming in and looks up with a start.

“Thanks, Cap,” he says, unsure how to break to either of them that it’s not like that – though maybe it is now – instead he focuses on an important detail, asking: “Are we in a lot of trouble?”

“You would be,” Bobby says and Eddie tenses, then Bobby adds: “But you got lucky that your stunt made it to national television. Court of public opinion is definitely on your side, the LAFD would face a shit storm if they fired either one of you now.”

Almost as if with cosmic timing, the TV in the hospital waiting room re-plays footage from the explosion. Above the murmuring and commentary from the reporters, you can clearly hear TV Eddie scream: “That’s my husband, you sick son of a bitch! Not your fucking collateral damage!”

Embarrassment flushes through Eddie at his own actions, though he doesn’t regret it. Not when he got Buck out of there and to surgery as quickly as he could. Still, his voice is a little shrill as he says: “Oh, well, that’s good.”

“It is,” Bobby agrees mildly, but he doesn’t offer more.

Timidly, Eddie asks: “And are you mad?”

Bobby sighs, before rubbing his face. “A little,” he admits and a part of Eddie wilts. “However, I mostly don’t know what to feel just yet. I hope we didn’t make you uncomfortable for you to not want to share.”

Right now Eddie should probably explain, but he’s already had too many emotional talks, so he just smiles tiredly: “No, no. It was just us being in our own way.”

Hen, who has more context, though not all yet, snorts a little at that. Eddie can’t help but shoulder check her lightly over it, but the action on the whole just makes him feel warm. Fond.

He has no clue what tomorrow will look like, or even the next hour. He still has to deal with all the realizations he’s had today, with telling Chris and dealing with the brass about their lie. With the potential anger or other reactions of everyone at them for lying.

However, right now, he just lets the comfort of his family wash over him, bask in the fact that he has this support system. He can face tomorrow. Face what will happen next. He just has to make it through this, then kiss Buck on the mouth. The rest will come.

~~

A/N:

Ugh, you don’t even wanna know how much I wanted this to be the reveal, sadly these dumbasses are not done with us yet, so we’re gonna have to continue on in the main verse with their bullshit still in tact </3

Besides, it felt cliché to do a feelings realization over Buck getting hurt, since Buck’s feelings realization was already about Eddie getting hurt, like that felt repetitive

Also, idk why, but I have such a hard time incorporating Maddie in these AUAUs. I keep trying, but it never works out, so I always end up relegating her to more of a background role, I’m sorry to all the Maddie lovers out there, I’ll try for future AUAUs!

[sad-scarred-sassy]

The tragedy of Spring🥀 - Chapter 6

Summary: Feyre Archeron finds out the truth.

Notes: I needed to get this out before it drove me insane! I hope you guys like it.

Read on AO3 or keep reading below the cut.

“You will be mine” She heard his voice, soft, vibrating over her body and luring her through the haze.

“And I will be yours” She felt his fingers on her waist, the place where she had felt them on her all night, moving her, guiding her. She felt a creeping sensation throughout her body, emerging from the pit of her stomach, screaming at her to run, but when she opened her eyes she saw stars and a universe of calm and comfort. A voice in her mind told her to run towards it, to grasp it and bathe herself in it, in the feeling, in his touch, his words.

But her body felt paralyzed, unsure.

Through the fog in her world she conjured a thought. “I don’t need you” She tried to get away, but his hands held her to him and she couldn’t help but stay still under them.

“Oh but you do” He said, voice soft and breathy, like a beautiful viper. “I can give you what you want, what you need. I can keep you safe”

“Safe?” The word felt so foreign to her now.

“Nothing bad will ever happen to you by my hand” He breathed on her skin and her body reacted. “That’s my word”

She knew something was off, something she couldn’t place, like when trying to hold on to a dream but feeling it slip away.

“Say it. Say it, Feyre” His breath hit her neck and her body trembled, urging her to speak or to flee, she wasn’t sure. The world was too dark, her body felt too tired and she was so desperate for that light, shining from his star-flecked eyes.

“I am yours, you are mine” She chanted, her words coming out monotonously, her vision blurring, hands and legs tingling.

“Perfect” She heard him say. “Close your eyes and rest, my mate ”

——

“Feyre”

She felt a pang in her stomach, like a rock had been dropped inside of it, painfully and all at once. Her arms and legs lost all strength as she looked into her sister’s wide and shocked eyes. She heard a horrible, consistent ringing in her ears, like a woman screeching inside her head, maybe that was her.

“You will be mine. And I will be yours”

Rhysand’s voice rang inside her mind. It couldn’t be. It had to be a mistake, Elain had to be mistaken.

“Feyre, calm down” Elain said, but she wasn’t calm herself, she looked lost too. It didn’t reassure her in the least.

“Y-you have to be mistaken” She felt herself say.

“Feyre I-“ Her brown eyes were glossy, tears beginning to form. Feyre couldn’t accept it.

“No! He’s my mate! I felt it, I felt him!” She was yelling now, but her sister only watched her.

“What I showed you, I didn’t make it up” She said softly, holding her hand tightly, as if she may disappear.

Feyre stared at her and it dawned on her then. How the moment she had come back from the dead she hadn’t felt it anymore, that tether to him that used to be like a piece of her soul, like he owned some of hers the way she owned some of his. How it had been easier to separate her thoughts from him then, easier to reject him, easier to want to leave him. He had broken the bargain.

“Nothing bad will ever happen to you by my hand”

She realized she was hyperventilating when Elain got to her feet and told her to breathe with her, to calm down. But she couldn’t calm down, because she was inside a nightmare, her world was falling apart, her life was a complete lie.

Why? The question popped inside her head and she couldn’t find an answer.

Why? Why? Why?

She realized she was chanting it, holding herself, rocking back and forth. Elain was trying to hold her together, but she was panicking herself.

“What’s happening?” She heard a familiar voice ask. Lucien. She started sobbing then.

“Lucien, help me. You need to get Nesta” The world was a vacuum, the voices were muffled. She needed more air or she was going to die.

“What is happening Elain? Why is she having a panic attack?”

“Listen” Elain rose. “I think we could be in danger, just get Nesta and don’t tell anyone. Not Azriel, not Cassian, not Rhysand. Please”

A moment later Elain was holding her hand again.

“Feyre, listen to me.” Her voice was so clear and solid she had to obey. “You need to breathe slowly, or you will pass out” She held her face in her small hands. “Listen to me, everything will be okay”

“No, it won’t Elain” She was sobbing, her head was throbbing and her whole body was shaking. “Why would he do this? Why would he make me do this?”

“I don’t know” Elain was trying not to cry.

As if on cue she heard Nyx’s cry from his nursery room.

A second rock, a bigger, more disgusting rock dropped inside her stomach and she looked up at Elain’s face with a horrified expression.

“No” Elain whispered. She shook her head softly. “It couldn’t be” But her brown eyes cleared, and she could see the truth hitting her in the face.

“An heir” She coughed.

Something inside of her snapped, and she stood up, running towards his room. She almost tripped a few times, dodging vases and furniture as she kept going towards the voice of her son crying.

When she finally arrived she almost threw herself at him, picking him up and cradling him in her trembling arms.

Feyre Archeron knew two things. One, the love of her life had lied to her, manipulated her and used her. Two, she would not let anyone take her baby away from her.

Elain caught up to her, Lucien and Nesta trailing behind her with concerned faces.

“Feyre-“ Nesta said, her grey eyes looking at her with such concern it made her want to keep crying. She looked at her older sister straight in the eyes.

“Run” She said and she winnowed.

——

When she arrived in Spring, she didn’t have any time to question herself, question why she had come here, she only had time to hold her baby tight to her body, as if scared someone might rip him away from her at any moment, and started running through the thick foliage of the forest. She knew she was close to the old manor, she had memorized these woods thoroughly.

Her bare feet were aching as she kept going, Nyx crying in her arms as she felt her own tears stream down her face. She was scared and hurt, and she couldn’t stop crying too.

When she finally reached the old manor she halted abruptly as she saw faeries of all kinds stopping whatever they were doing to look at her curiously.

Her chest was rising and falling quickly as she looked at their faces. Fae of all colors, shapes and sizes appeared to be working on the manor, reconstructing it. In that moment she felt the guilt of her past actions hit her like a thunder.

There she was running for help to the place she willingly destroyed, condemned thousands and never looked back. She wanted someone to step up and kill her right then and there. To make her pay. Make it all go away. The fae folk only stared at her some more.

“Feyre Cursebreaker?” One of them said and she couldn’t help a sob.

She shouldn’t be here, she should leave. Go somewhere else, somewhere no one will know.

“Feyre?” A voice soft but low that she knew all too well said from her back. She swirled to look at him, as if she couldn’t help it.

She saw his green eyes first, his tied golden hair second, strands falling on his perfect but sweaty face.

“Tamlin” She choked slightly. She looked down at her baby and then at him again. “I need-I don’t know where else to go and I-we need help” She sobbed, feeling like the worst person, the smallest most pathetic worm in the universe as he approached her slowly, as if scared she may run away, with only deep concern in his emerald gaze. As much as she looked for it, she couldn't find one hint of gloating in his eyes, not a pinch of contempt. She only wanted to crumble down and cry.

When he stepped in front of her, hands up as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them, he steadied a breath.

“What do you need?”

----

The wrath of a High Lord was something Nesta Archeron had been strangely acquainted with by now. When Rhysand snarled in her face, waves of dark power emanating from his tall frame as his muscles rippled, she didn't even flinch. 

“You let her leave” He spat at her, staring her down. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know” She said, but her own anger was already beginning to drown her, she could feel the cold fire tingling in her fingers, waiting, like a snake before it strikes. 

“I said, where is she?!” He screamed, pushing the table that had been between them like it was nothing, making it crash against the wall with a loud thump. She only stared at him, unamused. 

“Rhys, let’s just calm down” Her mate’s voice sounded from her side. Cassian was wincing with each word spoken, unsure what to do, what to say. She tightened her fisted hands, the weight of Ataraxia on her hip comforting her. “I’m sure whatever is going on can be resolved if we all just calm down” 

Feyre had told her to run, but she would be damned before she did that. Nesta Archeron would never cower before a male ever again, she had promised herself that, and this one wasn’t any different, most powerful High Lord or not. Besides, she wanted to be the one to have the pleasure of delivering the news.

“No” She said and both males pinned their eyes on her. She pointed at Rhysand. “He is a liar” She made sure her voice was clear and sharp as Cassian’s eyes only looked more shocked by the second. “He machinated a mating bond with my sister, your so-called High Lady, made her seal a bargain and then made sure she forgot about it” She cocked her head at Rhysand. “Now she knows, and she left you”

Rhysand’s face was suddenly displaying a cold, calculated fury she had the displeasure of knowing too well.

“No, that’s not true, where did you come up with something like that?” Cassian was saying, but her eyes were on the High Lord. When Rhysand didn’t utter a word, Cassian became more agitated. “Rhys, what-” 

“Tell him” She said softly, tenderly, like speaking to a toddler. “Tell him what you did to her. You can also mention all the ways in which you tormented her Under The Mountain, then pretended to be her savior” She savoured the venom in her tongue. 

Shadows sizzled in the corner and she knew Azriel had been listening for a long while.

“Rhys?” Cassian tried, but Rhysand’s violet eyes were fixed on her, weighing what to do, probably planning how to kill her without making Cassian go mad.

“She took my son” He said and the whole house trembled. 

“She took her son” Nesta said. “She died for him, remember?” She was sure he would try to kill her now.

“Rhys tell me this is not true” Cassian was pacing now, his heavy steps reverberating through the wooden floors of the River House. “It cannot be true”

“It is” A melodic voice sounded from her periphery. Azriel. “You did that to her. You made her believe she was your mate? How could you do that?” Azriel’s shadows swarmed him, the anger and betrayal on his face was cold and horrifying.

Rhysand’s eyes left her for a second to look at his favorite subject. “I had no choice”

Nesta scoffed, Cassian ran his hands through his long hair. 

“I will not repeat myself, where is she?” He commanded with such force her body fought to stay still. She straightened. 

“I don’t know, and even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you even if you made him torture me” She pointed at Azriel, who was stiffly looking at his High Lord. Centuries of blind loyalty and undying brotherhood, hanging by a thread, a thread she had no issues in cutting. “I will leave now, and if you try to stop me, I will make you eat shit”

She turned to leave but Cassian held her back. “Wait, Nesta let’s just, let’s hear him out” 

“No” She said. “I don’t give a fuck about his reasons. There is no justification, not this time” She spat. Her mate’s amber eyes were devastated, lost, like he was a stranded child, he looked like he may cry, and she didn’t fault him for that. She tightened her fists again as she fought the urge to simply stay, give in to him and comfort him. But she couldn’t, and Cassian knew it, he was trying to deny it but he knew there was no coming back from this.

She looked at Rhysand one more time and her eyes of steel met the violet fury of his. He disgusted her. “Leave her alone, or I will put you down, and you know I don’t make false promises”