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love-toxin · 2 years

Note

not sure if this is something you're comfortable with so if it is, i apologize and just ignore this. Im not normally a big period sex person but today is the first day of my period and all i can think is Eddie selling me weed and enticing me into sleeping with him.

like please sir. ease my cramps. just wanna get high with him and have some sex with him to ease my mood 🥴💀😭

EHEH. as someone with the worst periods imaginable, this appeals to me greatly. teehee!

cws: blood, period sex, drugs, smoking, outdoor sex, first kisses, dominance kink, you awaken eddie's caregiving kink, period talk, petnames, crying, fluff and comfort, fem reader.

".....Huh. So that's why you want it, huh?"

Eddie's teasing you--he must be. He'd tried so hard to extract the truth out of you, pondering the question of why such a delicate little girl like you was sniffing him out for some weed out of the blue, and now he's got his answer.

Yeah, your period's kicking your ass. It's always been painful, but it's just gotten more and more difficult to deal with as you've gotten older. It's reached a level where you can barely get out of bed some days, and even your friends have noticed you struggling to focus on classes and just get through the day at all. Your last resort, after dozens of emptied pill bottles and hot water bottles used so much they're leaking, is the town's second-best drug dealer: Eddie Munson.

"Izzit really that bad?" He queries, brown eyes trained on you.

"If it wasn't, I wouldn't be here." You snap, not intentionally, but it was gonna come out that way no matter what. At least you can expect he won't mock you with the question of whether you're on the rag, because he already knows you are.

"Okay, okay, I get it. But don't complain if it doesn't help." He shrugs his shoulders, and rolls a couple joints with such a quick hand he makes it look easy. Deft fingers tuck the paper in on itself as he makes sure nothing falls out, because he reassured you that he would do a good job since you can't do it yourself. It's actually a little surprising that he didn't tease you at all for that--until you hear what he has to say next. "I, uh, hope it does, though. Y'know. Can't imagine bleeding every month is easy."

"Obviously it's not....but....thank you, Eddie." He finishes the joint, and looks over at his lunchbox in contemplation. There seems to be something on his mind, some thought rolling around in that brain rooted in by long, curly waves of hair.

"...Is what they say true?"

"What?" He fiddles with the clasp like he's got something he'd rather be saying, but his hands are soon busied with a lighter lying nearby that he flicks open and closed.

"....That you can help period pain with orgasms?" He strikes you dumb, speechless even, and when the air comes back into your lungs you spit out the first thing that comes to mind.

"Perv."

"Humour me." He's surprisingly serious about it, at least he seems that way. You were convinced this was a tease, a friendly jab at your expense, but the way Eddie's looking at you....the intense staring contest you share is interrupted only when you clear your throat, and Eddie's eyes drop to ignite the little burst of flame that erupts from the zippo, before he holds it to a joint he swipes up and puts in his mouth.

"...Yes. I think. I don't really do anything on mine...it's just..." This is so embarrassing. Why are you spilling your guts to Eddie Munson of all people? He cups the flame with his newly freed hand to keep the light from going out, and finally returns your shy gaze when he clicks the lighter closed and puffs on it before plucking it off his lips.

"Messy?" He hands the joint over to face the unlit end towards you, and you take it gratefully to sweep a cloud of smoke into your needy lungs.

"Y-Yeah."

The silence is deafening as you smoke together, passing it back and forth once, and then twice.

"...I could help you."

"Yeah, sure." You brush him off. What a cruel joke while you're already vulnerable. Eddie leans in close.

"I'm serious. Gimme ten minutes. Swear I can help you." If your heart was any more silent, you would've expected yourself to drop dead--because in that moment, it's so quiet you can hear a pin drop in the forest. Eddie tilts his head, searching for an answer or a streak of disgust in your pretty eyes, and waits out the silence with an unsettlingly serious expression on his face. One that splits into a smirk when you finally nod 'yes', throat clenched too tight to even think of saying it out loud.

"Gotta make this quick then, sweetheart." He drops the stubby end of the joint into the gravel, snuffing it out with the toe of his sneaker in the same motion he uses to get up out of his seat, hands braced on the table and shaking with excitement. It comes out in his breathing too, shuddered breaths puffing out his chest as he circles round the table to your side, the anticipation driving one of those hands into your hair and his lips between your brows as he tugs at your top.

"Wait, w-we're gonna make a mess, though!" You hiss in a whisper, breaking off of the heart-battering kiss for your head to swivel back and forth, eyes scanning the woods for an audience as Eddie pulls you up to your feet and shuffles you over to the side of the table--your butt pressed against the edge before he lifts you up to sit on top of it, grinning like a fool the whole way.

"Yeah we are," He breathes, smelling of pot and cigarettes and lust. "Gonna make a fuckin' mess of you, princess."

The weed is hitting you now. The world is tinged with warmth, a fuzzy feeling in your brain that leaks down your veins and makes the fire burning in your belly burn even hotter. Each graze of Eddie's fingertips against your skin as he pulls your panties down your legs strikes another match, and although you know in your head that this is such a bad idea, the thought of stopping makes you whine--it feels good, and that's all that matters. It's a quick dive into an all-encompassing high, and by then you're so amiable you fully commit to what you're doing. Eddie's mouth presses into your neck as he whispers a question, and you nod again, clutching at his shirt and his toned arms as he kisses reassurance into your skin and tugs the string of your tampon until it comes completely out. Throws it somewhere, abandons it into the world that doesn't exist to you right now--because the only things that do are you, Eddie, and the table keeping you upright.

"You're so weird, Eddie.." You whimper into his neck, hiding your face in his shirt and his hair, all while he's undoing his zipper and tugging his half-hard cock out from his boxers. "You sh-should be grossed out..."

He really should. No guy you've ever met would dare to get near you or any girl on their period, and here's Eddie Munson offering to soothe your cramps with an orgasm, and guiding his cockhead to slide between your folds without care to how much blood must be coating it. You can feel it dripping down your ass where you sit, so it must be quite a bit--he teases you with a gentle prod inside, just barely enough to sheathe the tip, and his back buckles when he gets a feel for just how tight you really are.

"Come over later, and I'll eat you out too." The whine that rips out of you at that amuses him, and he chuckles in a way that sounds more like a growl as he finally slides in all the way. "Don't hide that pretty face from me."

His fingers clamp down on the back of your neck, yanking your head back to see your expression twisting up with worry and twinging with an ache from the deep stretch he's putting upon you. Your eyes are still darting to the side and behind him, your brain spinning too fast with fear of being caught--but he angles your head so you're level with him, bright eyes finally settling on his as he struggles not to claim your lips in a kiss he's been wanting since you first sat down across from him.

"S'just you and me," He pants, clearly focusing hard on not getting overwhelmed with the rather unique sensations. "Don't worry about anything else. Just focus on me. I'll take care of everything."

One buck of his hips, an experimental one, and any attempt to stay quiet on your end is futile. A very pleased cry tears its way out of your lungs and rings out into the forest, and while Eddie dips his head on instinct, he halts at a stop while his hips keep rolling, slowly.

"Can I kiss you?" You blink absentmindedly at him, trying to process that request while his lips are so close to yours, and look so kissable.

"I like to kiss when I do it." He smiles to reassure you, uses it as a weapon despite his eyes squinting and his face growing hot as he finds his rhythm. "Please? Promise it won't mean anything."

"Don't promise me that..." You say without thinking, mind muddled and hazy with want and your arms linking up around his shoulders to lean in closer, your noses bumping each other's. A surprised "Oh?" slips out of him, followed closely by a moan as he hits some kind of resistant wall inside you. The drugs make it all fuzzy, so it doesn't even hurt, but Eddie's being too sweet for you to think it would anyways.

"You into the freak, sweetheart? Was this your plan?"

"No! Shut up, Eddie!" Gasping, you're sucking the exhaled breaths out of his lungs in the shared space, but your words have no bite and the throaty snicker that escapes him when you fall for his trap prove that he knows it. He's faster, losing a little bit of that confident decorum, one hand on your lower back while the other busies itself with sliding messy circles into your clit.

"Hit a nerve," He gasps as you tighten around him, your back arching into his thrusts, while your pussy drools with all manner of slick; blood, arousal, and the spit off of Eddie's quick fingers. "Did I?"

"Stop making fun of me..." You finally whimper, breaking that facade as the world hits your shoulders and you feel the weed stirring up all your emotions and bringing them out. That mixed with the hormonal shifts of your mood have you teary-eyed and sniffly, and yet Eddie's not bothered--he looks entertained, has a soft look on his features, he pulls you closer against him and nuzzles the tip of your nose with his.

"Sorry, baby," He chuckles again, deeper this time, and narrows his eyes down at your lips. "I just like you too."

I like you too. Those words are foreign, even more so in Eddie's voice, but they're not unpleasant. Not even close. Eddie gives you one last chance to bail, one moment of hesitation with his mouth so close to yours, and you don't waste it. You close that distance between you, soft lips meeting chapped but warm ones, and Eddie moans almost immediately into the kiss like it's even hotter to him than fucking you outright. It doesn't last long but it doesn't have to, it's sweet and it's perfect, and there will be more. God, there will be so many more if the glimmer in his eyes when you break the first one is anything of a tell.

"Think I hook up with just anyone I deal to? 'M not some--ngh--common whore." He laughs. What a nice way to say "This is the first time, you're the only one I would do this with." in a way that still befits your Eddie. Your Eddie.

"C-Cum in me, Eds..." You whine, pawing at his shoulders to pull him closer as he works his hips, muscles flexing as he puts in so much effort to rub your clit in tandem. He's close too, you can feel it, can feel the twitches and spasms of his dick as he chases that spot inside you--the one that's so soft it makes you buckle into him when he pummels it, and causes you to gush all over him when he thumbs your clit just right at the same time.

"Can't," He pants, forehead pressed against yours to kiss you again between every few words. "Ask me when we're both sober." He chuckles out, sliding right into a groan as he hits his stride and starts rocking the table beneath you with the weight of his hips slapping against yours.

"Not gonna let you...pull out..." You lock your legs around his thin waist, ankles hooking behind his back to yank him closer and keep those thrusts short and sharp. He can barely manage to touch you, you're so close, and with gritted teeth he relents and wipes his fingers clean of the blood on his pants.

"My good girl," He pulls back, hands cupping both sides of your face and tugging strands of errant hair away from your eyes. He looks innocent, but his voice turns sinister in a second as he squishes your cheeks in a strong grip. "You're gonna do whatever I fucking tell you to do."

Immediately, you let your legs drop from where they once sat on his hips, going limp and boneless in his hold as your orgasm creeps up closer and closer on you. His voice is sexy when he's close but the words, those are something you won't shake loose from your thoughts so easily. Your fingers flutter to clasp over his hands on your cheeks, your bodies moving with no help from your arms yet your satisfaction growing with the harsh scraping of his wiry hairs against your clit on each thrust. You want his cum so bad in the moment, want him to commit completely to making you a mess--but following his commands somehow feels....better. Feel that fluttering in your tummy and your clit when he speaks up and says anything with that stern tone.

"Shit, you're cute when you obey me--f-fuck, fuck it, god-" Eddie's hand shoots down in those last few moments, desperately pawing and rubbing at your sensitive little spot to put that pressure on it that you need--and it makes you clench so hard around him that it's all he needs to finish, forgoing any sense and conscience to keep quiet as he runs his mouth with dirty words and slips out of you, the cool breeze on his bare cock all he needs for it to spit heavy globs of pearly-white cum all over your thighs. He tries, really he tries not to get it near your slit, but a fat dribble of it shoots right across your clit as the icing on the cake. Not that you would notice or care, though, as you're squealing Eddie's name and clinging to him dearly as you cum around nothing and your body shakes with waves of pleasure that blot out everything but him.

It's like a spiritual experience in a way--the tears spilling down your cheeks and wetting Eddie's hands as he cups them, rubbing you through your orgasm until you can't take another second of pleasure and bump his hand away, slumping completely in his arms and laying your head on his shoulder. It sobers you up somewhat; the clear-headedness after you cum, the cold air hitting your sensitive areas, and the smell and touch of Eddie as he strokes your hair and talks you down back into real life. It hurts but it feels good, it aches but you're glowing....you want to say something sweet, to tell him something sincere, to do anything, but when you finally sit up and look down the tears just overwhelm you again.

"Eddie, my skirt..." You sniffle, shakily lifting it up with one hand to assess it. There's blood everywhere, soaking your clothing and the table, staining Eddie's crotch and his jeans, and there's a puddle of it mixed with his cum on the ground beneath you. At least his pants are dark, so it's not noticeable on him, but it's light out and you look like you came straight out of Carrie. "I can't...c-can't.."

"Shh," Eddie soothes, guiding your face forward to kiss your forehead. His voice is so much lower now, seemingly unfazed by the circumstances even though he seriously should be. "You have a tampon, sweetheart?"

"In my bag," You whimper, and he doesn't bother cleaning himself off before he zips back up. Deftly, he pulls your backpack over to dig inside the first pocket he sees before pulling one out triumphantly. "I'll..I'll..." Your hands are too shaky. You can barely open the plastic when he hands it to you, and even when Eddie does it for you, you can't even aim it right. You've never felt so pathetic, despite just having the best time of your life, and making such a big mess is just so embarrassing. He must think I'm gross.

"I can put it in for you, sweetheart. Just talk me through it." There's no energy for you to even shake your head, you just let your lip wobble and beg him not to tease you, to which he responds with a kiss and a solemn swear that he won't say a word. He even pauses to retrieve some abandoned tissues in his lunchbox to clean you up first, at least to get the cum wiped off and most of the blood dried for the moment.

And when you give in, it's easy--he does exactly as he's told, seems somewhat familiar with it within moments of handling it, and as quick a learner as ever he pushes the proper end in and pulls the plastic out, smiling with pride in himself as he slips the applicator into the packaging and tucks it into his pocket to throw away later.

"Feel better, at least?" He finally murmurs with a clean hand on your cheek, not daring to move you for fear of making you dizzy or pushing you too far. And he hasn't left, hasn't shown even an inkling of desiring to, which just boggles your mind further but makes it easier to let those thoughts spill out.

"You ruined everything." You lean into him, worry turning his features. An unexpectedly sincere and slightly frantic apology is halfway off his lips before you cut him off rather abruptly, though. "You're the only thing that makes it better now..."

"Really? Not the weed?" He giggles at how sweetly you say it, the compliment evidently like music to his ears. "Guess I'll have to help you again. We'll do it somewhere a little cleaner next time, mkay?"

You hum in agreement, amiable to whatever he says so long as you get to keep listening to his voice. "Want me to drive you home, or you wanna change and go back to class?"

"Yours?"

Eddie rubs your chin with a calloused thumb, his teeth gleaming all white and pretty as the rest of his life flashes before his eyes. It's dangerous to go home with a boy you don't know that well--but Eddie's clearly not that kind of guy, and the kiss he so lovingly presses to your lips when he gets you on your feet, and ties his beloved Dio jacket around your waist, says it all.

"Course, sweetheart. I'll take good care of you, for being such a sweet girl to me. Don't you worry about a thing."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie's angelface #spicy writing #st 4 #stranger things #ellie writes #anons

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ssparksflyy · 5 months

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hi hi!!

i love ur writing sm can i req a luke x aphrodite reader where the reader is insecure from a scar she got on a quest and luke comforts her?

btw no pressure or anything! i know how stressful requests can be <33

ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨ stars around our scars ୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

pairing luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite!reader warning(s) me being really shitty at describing where scars are, me not knowing how to treat cuts, swearing word count 1.1k an i feel like this sounds so pick me but i only ever curl my lashes cause my mommy mother dearest wont let me do anything else yet so idk how 2 use concealer or nothin nd i hope this doesnt sound too stupid 😭

you took a step back as you finished ( your attempt to ) covering up the scar sitting diagonally on the left side of your forehead. it was just barely above your eyebrow, running down to the top of your ear. you hated the stupid thing. you hated how you could've avoided getting it in the first place if you'd just moved quicker. maybe you might've been able to move quicker if you trained harder and longer, instead of fooling around. if you just tried harder.

you exhaled in frustration as you grabbed your concealer, ready to put another layer on the ugly thing. you'd spent hours yesterday trying to find a hairstyle that would cover up the scar, but it always managed to peak out a little, sending you into a meltdown. emotionally, you'd been so fragile after your quest, a singular wrong move managing to bring you to tears.

you reached for your concealer, placing some on top of your scar and grabbing your brush, quickly trying to hide the wretched thing. when you realized it wasnt working, you could feel the tears brimming in your eyes, the familiar overwhelming feeling slowly creeping in. you reached for the bottle again without looking in a hurry, your eyes fixated on your reflection in the mirror, watching as tears threatened to fall. your hand missed the bottle and instead sent it flying off the bathroom sink's counter, hitting the floor with a shatter. you gasped as you quickly fell to your knees, trying to pick up the glass from the floor.

somebody knocked on the door, "you okay in the angel?", you heard their voice say from the other side of the bathroom door. was that luke? it had to be luke. when had he gotten here?

"y-yea! im okay!", you shouted back. you could hear your voice shaking, and you knew he could too.

you quickly began picking up pieces of glass off of the floor, tears now falling from your eyes as you grunted in anger every time a piece of your hair would fall into your face and blocked your vision. a large piece fell in your face when you balled up for fist that had glass in it without thinking. you quickly yelped out in pain, small shards of glass lying in your palm.

you heard the bathroom door open swiftly, quickly looking up to see luke standing in the door frame. he let out a small gasp when he saw your hand, quickly moving over to you.

"shit- here, here, cmere baby" he said, holding your other hand and guiding you back up to the sink.

he turned the faucet on and stuck his hand in the water, making sure it wasn't too hot, but still warm. after just a few seconds, he grabbed your other hand gently, holding it by your wrist, careful not to touch the palm of your hand until he could see the cuts.

"is this too hot?" he asked, putting just your fingers under the water.

you shook your head, wiping away your tears. your hand was aching, but luke's touch alone was enough to help calm you down a little.

he moved the rest of your hand under the water, grabbing soap to help clean the cut. he seemed to know exactly what to do, and you just let him take care of you.

once he finished cleaning the cuts, he asked you to sit atop of the bathtub as he crouched down to search for your cabin's first aid kit. when he found the bedazzled thing, he was quick to rummage through it in search for tweezers. he found a pair and sat next to you on the bathtub, taking your injured hand and holding it in his left hand as he began picking out the pieces of glass with the tweezers in his right.

you sat in comfortable silence as luke continued to take out small pieces of glass, making sure he got every last bit out. you wanted to talk to him, to thank him for what he was doing, but you felt embarrassed in a way. embarrassed that this had happened and luke was the one to take care of you, again. if only you'd paid more attention. again.

when he finished pulling out the glass, he reached over to the first aid kit again, putting the tweeers back and this time pulling out a bandage roll.

"what happened? i mean, i know you dropped something but like why?" he asked, as he slowly began to wrap the bandages around your palm.

"i wasn't paying attention, as always." you said, muttering the last part.

he looked up at you, his brows furrowed in confusion, "as always? what do you mean?"

"well i mean i got this dumb scar on my head because i wasn't paying attention, now this? one day i'll get myself killed because i'm not paying attention" you said bitterly.

he finished bandaging your hand and turned it over to press a kiss on your knuckles, "everybody makes mistakes. so what if you weren't paying attention? i don't know a single person at camp who hasn't gotten hurt because they weren't paying attention- including myself. it's normal angel, no need to beat yourself up for it."

"still doesn't get rid of this stupid scar" you muttered.

he paused, studying the scar on your forehead, just now noticing the very obvious layer of makeup on it. his eyes wandered over to the shattered bottle on the floor.

"is that what this is about?" he asked, pointing over to the mess on the floor, "your scar?"

you looked away and nodded your head slowly.

"im... im not pretty anymore." you said, tears beginning to form.

luke almost laughed out of shock, "what? where did you ever get that idea??"

"oh come on, luke! ive got this huge mark across my forehead, youre seriously telling me thats pretty?" you exclaimed.

"angel, in no way does that scar take away from your beauty at all. youre still the same gorgeous girl you were before." he said, moving closer to you.

he pressed a soft kiss on it, "and besides- i think it makes you look tough."

you smiled, "really?"

"mhm, like yea you like ribbons and bows and frilly things, but at the same time it says you can drop kick a bear" he replied.

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his comparison but couldn't help laughing.

"what? no bear?" he asked.

you just rolled your eyes and kissed him.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

little did he know, just the sight of the identical scar on his left cheek would be enough to almost send him running back to you after his betrayal.

#percy jackson #pjo #pjo x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #percy jackson x reader #by bells ♡⋆ ࣪.

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suguruverse · 3 years

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ohkay hi! may i just say, that i've just encountered your blog and i am already LOVING IT period. i just love it. it's amazing.

alright, i was thinking maybe you could do something like first meeting headcanons. and hopefully for the manager of karasuno 👀 (i was mainly thinking of the manager being a second year but ig it's not that important) it could be something like meeting at a training camp, or at a game, or at nationals, something like that. and i was thinking kuroo, oikawa and atsumu i love that man so much fml

that would be it ly! 💘

— FIRST MEETINGS WITH THE HAIKYUU BOYS AS KARASUNO’S MANAGER

includes - kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru and miya atsumu

a/n - hi bub!! hehe thank you for your support i love you <33 i loved this req lmao hope you like it!

♕ KUROO TETSUROU

- bro lets be completely honest, he is an absolute stuttering mess when he first meets you

- he doesn't even realise that you can see him just staring at you for a solid five minutes

- this man has 0 experience with picking up girls so he will just be saying the worst pick up lines ever or some random fact that no one cares about

- it was the first day of the tokyo training camp with karasuno, nekoma and fukurodani and you and some of the other manager's were in charge of making lunch and dinner

- since you were in the kitchen basically for the entire day, you never really had the change to meet any other the other players

- once dinner arrives, they all flood into the cafeteria looking a little bit... dead?

- you serve them their food, only receiving a toneless "thank you"

- until kuroo walked in, as rowdy and loud as he is

- when he arrived in front of you to get his rice and soup, he just stopped and looked at you

"good work today! here's your food"

kuroo: o-o

"um is there something on my face?"

"p...pretty"

"im sorry"

"YOU'RE REALLY PRETTY"

- when i tell you the silence that just filled up the room

*bokuto in the background* "BRO ASK HER OUT LATER, YOU'RE HOLDING UP THE LINE, I'M HUNGRY"

- and then he just awkwardly runs away to his table where kenma was and just plopped on the table, his face hiding in his arms while kenma is just very uncomfortably patting kuroo's back in comfort

- the next day at breakfast, you sneaked your number onto his food tray (that was on a piece of paper) and he didn't even notice it was there until he nearly ate it

- from that day on, you'll just see him awkwardly trying to make conversation with you

- when you switched with yachi to help out the boys during the day like filling up water bottles and shit, kuroo is trying to impress you but is also doing incredibly shitty at the same time

- he pulled a hinata a couple times and got hit straight in the face by bokuto

- but to his surprise, you were already in the nurse's office because tanaka starting waving his shirt around and accidentally hit nishinoya right in the nose

- kuroo acts like he had a broken arm or something just so you can baby him

- he genuinely believes in love at first sight and asks you out at the end of the training camp lol he has no patience

♕ OIKAWA TOORU

- it was at the spring high preliminaries and both teams were warming up

- it was his turn to spike when boom bam he hits you straight in the face

oikawas brain: oh no i hit pretty girl. i should ask pretty girl if she's okay. pretty girl really pretty

- while daichi is trying to stop noya and tanaka from ripping oikawas hair out, he was already running towards you, asking if you were okay

- you insisted you were okay as you were kind of embarrassed with the crowd watching you, and soon after, the game had began

- oikawa was already thinking of 12 ways he could apologise to you but for now, he had to focus on the game

- whenever there was a timeout or break, he noticed the small twitches in your eye and the bruises that were faint, but still there

- although the game had resulted in karasuno's win, oikawa couldn't help but feel worse when he saw you wince in pain when hinata excitedly pulled you into his chest for a hug

- kiyoko recommended you go to the nurse's office but there was no point since you were about to leave anyways

- like kuroo, this man acts as if no one can see him staring at you like a creep for afar

- you rolled your eyes for the 30th time that day when oikawa approached you again as you were about to get on the bus

"hey you! are you sure you're okay?"

"im fine, thanks"

"are you sure? is there something you want me to do for you?"

- he doesn't really know how to continue this conversation so he just stands there, waiting for you to say something

"you seem a little desperate oikawa-san"

- he turns into a blushing mess when you tease him and you cannot tell me otherwise

"what about a date then? as an apology. i don't think i can sleep at night if i don't at least try to make it up to you"

"sorry not interested"

"OH right.. sorry i just thou-"

"i was just joking oikawa-san, tomorrow at 5?"

"YES"

- on the date he keeps mentioning how nervous he was because of how pretty he thought you were and how he couldn't sleep

- love sick bitch

- he also tries to be so damn smooth as well and he thinks that it's working but it really isn't

- pls for the love of god just boost his ego he needs it

- i swear you could be celebrating your 3 year anniversary but he will still be mentioning that day, telling everyone how it was fate or whatever

- and you could be on the side like what mf my face hurt for like 3 weeks shut up

♕ MIYA ATSUMU

- yay we're at nationals

- anyways the venue was fucking massive so you'll end up getting lost right?

- well yes, but you didn't really expect it to be when you were trying to escort hinata to the fucking toilets

- it was only 20 minutes until their match against inarizaki was gonna start and that mf was still in the bathroom

- and you can't exactly enter the men's bathroom so you just started pacing in front of the door like a psycho

- conveniently atsumu and suna were walking to the bathroom and saw you just muttering to yourself

- he honestly thought you were some time of perv and hella weird

"OI CREEP, what the hell a ya doing?" says the man with piss hair and reeks of axe

- and like a movie, you turn around, hair flipping in the wind and he can hear angels singing and a bright light surrounds you

- mans is on the flooring crying because wtf he just saw the most beautiful person he's ever seen

- pls snap him out of it, ur friend is probably shitting his pants in the toilets behind you and you need to see if he's okay

- he cannot keep eye contact for the life of him

- you could just be like "i'm really sorry but im the mangager for karasuno and one of my friends are in there, so can you just check on him pls"

- and he'll just smile and nod at whatever you say like "mhm yeah totally karasuno? mhm thats hot, wanna go out with me?"

- atsumu is like a demon possessed him and suna out here watching him like tf i just need to take a piss man shut up

- yeah you left with atsumu's number and left hinata all alone

- he left the bathroom and almost cried when he realised he got ditched for dick

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sairavity · 4 years

Text

karasuno boys with s/o on her period!

genre: tooth-rotting fluff 🥺

warnings: mentions of periods so if you don’t like it, scram!!!

characters: karasuno boys ;) daichi, suga, asahi, noya, tanaka, kags, hinata, tsukki, and yams

don’t mind me, just making some self-indulgent hcs with my faves cuz why not? very long, under the cut!

okay this may have turned into cuddling hcs LMAO

god i just wanna hug this man

i mean…JUST LOOK AT HIM

broad shoulders, tall af, big hands

you better believe he’s a good hugger

he’s very considerate of your feelings when you’re on your period

whenever you get cramps, he’s cuddling you against his chest with a hand on your stomach :)

he’s just so warm and smells so good, so you instantly melt in his touch

he lives for the moments when he can just lay down and cuddle you 💖

gets you whatever snacks you want :33

omg he’s such a dad…dy 👀

innocently rests hand on thigh

looks respectfully

he’s so pretty 😭

suga is very protective over you during this time

he makes sure you have everything you need: pads/tampons/cup, snacks, blankets

MOM MODE ACTIVATED

HE CAME PREPARED BITCH

his mom taught him everything he needs to know about a girl

PERFECT BOYFRIEND MATERIAL!!!

stop im crying

thank you mrs. sugawara 😭😭

suga will do anything you want

he doesn’t mind if you’re moody during your period

another good cuddler ☺️

his soft kisses make you blush HARD

compliments you like the beautiful person you are if you’re feeling insecure

take a look at him

WE BEEN KNEW THAT HE IS A GREAT HUGGER

he’s so hesitant to cuddle you on your period because you’re in pain

but eventually he relents because he can’t just leave you lying there in pain!!

you love his hugs though

they make you sleepy and it just feels so safe in asahi’s arms

so warm that you don’t even need a hot water bottle for the cramps :)

he doesn’t know much about those things but he kind of knows the basics

panics because he doesn’t know what kind of tampon/pad/cup you wear

asahi does write down everything you need or want and commits it to memory

he’s a soft, nervous boy, but he’s trying, y’all!!!

drinks his “respect women” juice

surprisingly, he knows how to take care of you on your period

actually, that’s not a surprise

i mean, how is gonna have an s/o if he can’t take care of you?

he’s whipped, your honor

noya’s gonna order your favorite food from your favorite restaurant

WHATEVER YOU WANT HE WILL GET IT FOR YOU!!!

if you want kisses, YOU GET KISSES

movie marathon? you got it!

cuddles? ABSOLUTELY! it doesn’t matter if you’re taller or shorter, noya will be the big spoon!

respectfully holds your titty when spooning

author: sobs…i want noya

another good boy who drinks his “respect women juice”

also knows how to take care of s/o on her period

i feel like his mom and saeko beat it into him LMAO

saeko adores you 💖

she brings over your favorite ice cream

girl will do your makeup for you and take you shopping

best big sis saeko

wait, WEONG TANAKA AUTHOR

he knows what kind of snacks and food you like!

cuddling material what can i say

tbh all of the boys would cuddle you if you asked-

he will literally wait for you to tell him what to do

it freaks you out a bit

“calm down, ryu, you don’t have to bow down to me…”

he will treat you like the goddess you are!

compliments turned to the MAX

very careful with you 😌

kisses you and cuddles the cramps away :)

he’s so GRRRRR

another boy who respectfully holds the titty

ugh i want him ples

SO AWKWARD BOY

ahhh pls he’s so innocent

he never had to deal much with periods, but he kinda knows how his sister could get during hers

thank you to kageyama miwa, 29, hair and makeup artist

kags got scared to death when he saw the blood stains

you had to comfort him when he shakily asked you if you were dying

he calms down eventually

he’s the type to ask you what size pussy you have 🙈

you ask for cuddles and best boy won’t hesitate

you lay his head in his lap while he strokes your hair

bro please i’m begging for hair strokes-

tsundere just blushes whenever you tell him he’s a softie

SHARES HIS MILK WITH YOU

please be patient with him

he’s so awkward as fucc

SUNSHINE BOYYYYYY

respects women OF COURSE

MRS HINATA TAUGHT HER SON RIGHT

so proud of him

he is so hyper around you

very observant of your body language

poor boy gets sad whenever he sees you doubling over in pain

whatever you want, you get it!

he’s so SOFT GRRR

back rubs? you bet

he loves to give you cute cheek kisses

hand kisses? 🥴

treats you like a princess! which is all the time :)

honestly his good mood distracts you from the cramps

he’ll put on a movie for you two to watch

you both fall asleep cuddling, with hinata’s arm over your waist

around you, tsukki is an asshole

but during that time of the month, he’s a softie for you

he learned his lesson whenever he accidentally teased you last time

you may or may not have burst into tears

he will give you one of his hoodies to wear so you can stay warm

tsukki pretends he’s annoyed by you, but you both know it’s just an act

he’ll drop whatever he is doing and help you with whatever you need

he even runs a nice warm bath for you

glares at you whenever you stretch out your arms at him

you roll your eyes when he does his little “tch, fine” and wraps his long arms around you

softly calls you shortie

you bury your face in his chest, sighing contently

you like laying on him like a cat

he’s glad you can’t see his blushing, smiling face right now

he honestly loves it when you do that

gives you a forehead kiss and plays with your hair

he’s got love in his eyes for you

author’s concern: where’s my tsukki

enjoy it while it lasts- 😭

soft boy

he’s so considerate

fuck i’m crying

this boy is so in love with you

he’s not bothered by your period

please guide him, he really wants to help you!!

he can’t feel the pain but it breaks his heart seeing you clutching your stomach

he has a blanket, snacks, water bottle, pads/tampons/cup, and tea ready for you

yams is so wholesome i can’t

he’ll give you a massage if you want :)

movie marathons are a thing

you both ugly cry during one scene

he likes giving forehead kisses as well

HAND KISSES TOO!!! so underrated

once again, he’s so in love with you

if you’re feeling insecure during this time, he’ll instantly give you compliments

YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL

YOUR EYES ARE SO GORGEOUS

your body is so pretty and yams is so whipped for you

makes you bawl harder

yamaguchi tadashi deserves the world

oh wait, HE HAS IT IN HIS ARMS

a/n: this is very self-indulgent-

feel free to send in a request! slide into my inbox!

should i make a part 2 with the other boys?

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #daichi sawamura x reader #koshi sugawara x reader #asahi azumane x reader #nishinoya x reader #ryuunosuke tanaka x reader #kageyama x reader #hinata shouyou x reader #tsukishima x reader #yamaguchi x reader

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flowerslut · 4 years

Photo

BONUS DAY: Quarantine Rated: T for language. Words: 9,064

A/N: My favorite prompt, “suddenly human” was somehow NOT chosen for Jalice week. So I took some liberties here by combining a shitload of prompts together. Brace yourselves.

WHUMPTOBER CROSSOVER—No. 13: OXYGEN MASK & No. 21: INFECTION

Alice and Jasper face immortality together.

I’LL JUST LAY HERE WITH YOU

Twenty-nine days ago they were celebrating.

Birthdays weren’t something they acknowledged often. After Bella had been with them for a decade, their newest vampire had firmly put her foot down. She’d barely tolerated them as a human, but as an immortal being she’d loathed the parties.

Thankfully, there was still Renesmee and her milestones to keep track of. Of course, she hadn’t changed much since her eighth birthday, but apparently even human-vampire hybrids weren’t immune to the desire for a Sweet Sixteen.

Jasper had never seen Alice so elated to have someone so willing to plan a celebration with her. And she and Rosalie had once spent three years planning one of Rose and Emmett’s more elaborate weddings.

It started with a vision.

Turning the knob on the stove, Jasper cut the heat, ignoring the way his throat burned at the aroma that was wafting through the kitchen. It had been embarrassing, having to listen to Carlisle and Bella give him step by step instructions on how to light the gas stove over the phone, but if Alice had witnessed him struggle in a passing vision, she neglected to mention it to him.

He checked his phone then, knowing that no messages awaited him, but still hoping for a notification nonetheless. Someone would be dropping off more supplies today, and he needed to know where exactly to go in order to receive them.

He couldn’t risk interacting with any of his family directly. Not until they figured out what was going on.

It started with a vision.

Jasper reached forward, grabbing the canister from the boiling water, and began to wipe it dry. He knew it was warm enough due to smell alone. He hadn’t once used the food thermometer they’d stuck in their last delivery. While Alice’s condition had worsened, it hadn’t gotten so bad that she’d be at risk of being burnt.

He eyed a bag on the kitchen table, and at the assortment of crazy straws poking against the plastic, and rolled his eyes as he exited the room. Leave it to Emmett to try to find something to joke about with the situation.

He’d been pissed at the bonus items during that particular delivery—surely Edward and Rosalie hadn’t known Emmett was sneaking some extras into the package—but it had made Alice crack a real, genuine smile.

And those were so hard to come by now.

It started with a vision.

Twenty nine days ago they’d been celebrating Renesmee’s birthday. That included balloons and streamers and cake and human food and humans and an assortment of emotion that, by the party’s conclusion, had given Jasper whiplash. The headache he had that day didn’t ebb until late that night. Alice had been too preoccupied with clean-up to notice.

And Jasper had been too preoccupied with his headache to notice when Alice’s emotions caused the climate of the house to take a nosedive.

Walking through room after room Jasper eventually reached the stairs and began to slowly climb, focusing hard on the low buzz of the equipment running upstairs. With every step his misery intensified until he was struggling to keep the emotion at bay. Whether it was a good thing or not, Alice was too out of it most days to be able to tell.

Still, he didn’t want to slip up and accidentally physically share his current emotions with her.

“Jazz?” He heard her voice call when he was halfway up the stairs. And when her panic struck him he cleared the rest of the staircase in an instant.

“I’m right here,” he spoke, the canister already resting on the nightstand as he reached out for her, hyperaware of all the wires as he maneuvered her into an embrace. “Just wanted to get you something to drink.” Pulling back he focused intently on her face. Her eyes hadn’t been golden in days, despite the regular meals he supplied her with. Instead, her eyes were slowly darkening, a brown amber color taking over.

Her sigh of relief sounded more like a rasp, and when her face scrunched up in pain, Jasper felt his entire being ache. Reaching forward he readjusted the oxygen tube on her face, resting his hand firmly against her cheek as he watched her squeeze her eyes tight and focus on taking a few long, even breaths.

She felt just slightly warmer than she had the day before. The temporal thermometer that lay within the nightstand was suddenly at the forefront of his mind. Another one of the tools Carlisle had armed him with in their first supply drop off. Jasper had refused to grab the device until someone (Rosalie) explicitly and unkindly asked him what her temperature was that day.

He didn’t want to think about how she was warming every day.

“Let’s sit you up,” Jasper spoke quietly as he moved, pulling her fragile body into a sitting position against the headboard, tucking the blankets snuggly around her as she blinked herself into awareness.

“How long was I out?” She rasped again, wincing as she shifted. Lifting a hand she scratched at her ear. The hair had grown infinitesimally over the past several weeks, but it was one of Alice’s biggest complaints. After living a hundred years with her hair the exact same, the instant it began to grow she’d panicked.

And Jasper had added another thing to the list of symptoms she was experiencing.

“Only a couple of hours,” he moved back toward the night stand, retrieving the canister. “This is the last of it,” he commented as she accepted the stainless steel canister with her bare hands. Barely a second later she was wincing, the container falling to the blankets that were lying across her lap.

Jasper had grabbed it and returned it to the table in an instant. “Alice!”

“I’m fine,” Alice hissed, holding her shaking hands to her chest “It’s not hot, I swear. Seriously,” then, she showed him her palms. They didn’t appear to look any different than usual, but still, Jasper was mortified. Maybe he should’ve been using the culinary thermometer after all… “Jasper. It’s fine,” she assured him between hurried breaths. “I’m not burnt or anything. It just really hurts to grip things today.”

“I’m sorry,” he still apologized quietly, knowing how much she hated hearing the words from him. “I didn’t know.”

“Another symptom for Carlisle,” she half-smiled, and Jasper felt his heart clench at the sight. Those smiles never reached her eyes.

Twenty-nine days ago Alice had been putting stringed lights back into storage containers when the first vision struck. Jasper had been distracted, up in his study, re-reading one of his many comfort books to try and curb the pain in his skull.

Jasper never felt Alice’s initial shock. What he felt was Edward’s powerful fear, and acute mortification.

By the time Jasper was in the living room, Alice was screaming.

Picking the canister back up, Jasper moved to sit back on the bed besides Alice. But when she saw what he was about to do she lifted up a hand, placing it against his arm. “Jazz, no. It’s fine. Give me a few minutes and I can do it myself.”

“I can help,” he insisted, his words quiet as he prepared to hold his breath and twist the canister open.

The human blood was a new addition to her diet. One that Carlisle had suggested after her body had rejected animal blood for the second time. She’d been wholly unable to hunt since the beginning, but she’d still been able to drink from whatever animal Jasper could grab that day.

When her teeth began to, quite literally, lose their edge, their family had been forced to improvise. Jasper didn’t know how they’d attained the initial bags of animal blood, but he was thankful for their efforts. He’d ruined the carpet in the den attempting to exsanguinate a deer, and had only salvaged less than a pint for her. After that, Carlisle had figured something out.

The first time she’d been sick—the animal blood violently expelling itself from her tiny body from the way it came, and ruining the couch in his study—was the first night she slept. Jasper called Carlisle, hysterical and screaming, thinking that whatever was happening had finally killed her.

She’d woken up less than ten minutes later, disoriented but alive. That had been two weeks ago, and Jasper hadn’t left her side for more than ten minutes since, even for a supply pickup.

“You said it’s the last of it,” Alice spoke, her frown deepening when Jasper fully screwed the lid off the bottle, “does that mean it’s a supply day?”

He nodded as he pressed the edge of the container to her mouth and tipped it back, trying hard to look away as she gulped down the blood. His thirst had been killing him the past few days, but he knew that he’d rather starve than deprive Alice of even one drop of sustenance.

“Her body is trying to replenish itself,” Carlisle theorized to him just the day before over the phone, “try and pay attention to what blood type she favors. It might become useful information.”

Her eyes hadn’t changed to red the way he’d expected them to—the way he’d hoped—but instead, every day, they darkened slightly, more orange-ish brown than anything.

It was an almost-human color.

Twenty-nine days ago they’d been celebrating. And then Jasper was in the living room and Alice was shrieking, demanding that everyone get out and that no one come near her and that they get out now and leave.

“Alice,” Jasper had flickered to her side, terrified at the emotions coming from her. But she’d pushed him away so hard he put a dent in the wall, the wood and plaster crumbling beneath his back.

“No!” She’d sobbed, “Stay away! Edward! Get them out! Explain later! Go, now!”

But even Edward, who knew what she was thinking and who had seen what she’d seen, couldn’t bring his feet to move. “Alice, hold on a second.”

Jasper felt Alice’s emotions blank and then come back full-force; it was the tell-tale sign of another vision stealing her attention. And when Edward’s terror trumped Alice’s, Jasper found himself staring helplessly at the redhead.

“Go,” the boy turned toward the family and barked the orders, “everyone get out, now.”

“What is it?” Jasper demanded, his frustration mounting. He trusted Alice with his life, but he’d never felt a heartbreaking fear like this from her before. “What’s going on?”

“Jasper,” Edward yelled as Esme and Bella—who had come to see what the commotion was about—ran off with Renesmee. Emmett and Carlisle were on a hunt and wouldn’t be back for a few hours. “I’ll explain later, we have to go.”

But when Jasper tried to approach Alice again—he’d leave as long as she was by his side—she screamed at him, backing away like a frightened animal.

“NO! Don’t come near me!”

“Jasper! Stop! Let’s go!”

“I’m not leaving until someone tells me what’s going on!” His heart broke as Alice looked at him with fear in her eyes. But as an empath, he knew she wasn’t afraid of him as much as she was afraid at what she’d seen.

“Jazz, please, please, please don’t come near me,” Alice begged as he slowly approached anyways. And the closer he got to Alice the farther Edward inched toward the back doors, his terror permeating the room.

“Alice, please…”

“You have to go before it’s too late.”

“Jasper, stand back!”

“I’m not leaving you,” Jasper spoke directly to Alice, barely an arms-length away now. “Whatever is going on, I’m not leaving you here.” Whether the Volturi were coming for her, or whether some freak natural disaster was set to swallow their neighborhood whole, he didn’t care. He’d rather die than leave Alice to face whatever it was that she and Edward were so terrified of currently.

“I can’t let you,” she shook her head firmly, her expression full of devastation as she backed up against the far wall. “Jasper, please, I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Sick?”

And when thick, silver liquid began to stream down Alice’s face, venom pooling in her eyes, Jasper’s entire world shifted.

By the time Jasper reached forward, wiping the venom from her face and confirming that yes, this was real, and no, this was not good, Edward had vanished, running after their family into the dead of night.

“No,” Alice sobbed, shaking her head as Jasper gathered her up in his arms, “No, not you, too. I don’t want you to die, too.”

“Please hunt today,” Alice spoke after Jasper recapped the now-empty canister. “Please. When you go to get the next shipment. I can’t stand to see you like this.” Reaching out she rested her hand against his cheek, her thumb brushing the bruise-like shadows beneath his eyes as she gazed at him with love and concern.

Jasper shook his head. “Carlisle is sending some more animal blood with the next one, that way I don’t have to leave the house.”

“That’s not going to be enough to sustain you,” Alice frowned, pulling her hand back into her lap. Jasper didn’t miss the way she was lightly massaging her palm. Even the slight affections she showed him pained her now.

“I’ll make it work.”

“How are you supposed to take care of me if you can’t take care of yourself?” The words were gentle, but they struck Jasper like a physical blow.

“I’ll take care of you no matter what.”

Alice sighed, and then there was a pause. “I can’t see them.”

He stared at her blankly, waiting for her too elaborate. “Who?”

“Anyone. I can’t see Carlisle or Esme. Or Bella or,” her voice cracked, “or anyone. I’m even struggling to see you now.”

Jasper nodded calmly, not wanting any of his reactions to worry her further. He would have a moment to himself soon enough. “And your dreams?”

“They’re getting a little less fuzzy. But Jazz,” and her fear in that moment was very real, “if I can’t pull visions up the way I used to, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

And truthfully, he didn’t know what they were going to do either.

They didn’t know what was eating away at Alice or what sickness she was afflicted with. They don’t know what caused it or how it had struck her. The only thing they knew—and only because of Alice’s first few visions—was that there was a chance it was contagious, and it would very likely kill her.

He’d kissed her through her tears after the third day, when she finally confessed that she very likely had sentenced him to death just with her proximity alone.

But Jasper would walk through the fires of hell day in and day out if it meant he wouldn’t be leaving Alice to face this sickness alone. Whether he lived or died he didn’t care. And if Alice did die… well… he could only hope it was as contagious as they feared…

Leaning forward he pressed a kiss to the side of her head. Alice tilted her head up, lifting a hand to hold his face still so she could plant her own kiss firmly on his lips.

“I love you,” he spoke softly against her lips before kissing her again, “and even if the visions go, you’ll still have me.”

“I’m scared,” she whispered, and when Jasper focused back on her expression, he realized her eyes were closed tight again. Setting the empty canister on the bed-side table, Jasper was careful as he climbed into the bed to lie alongside her. He didn’t want to unplug a single wire.

The electrocardiogram wasn’t registering anything—as it shouldn’t; Alice’s heart had been still for a century now—but Carlisle wanted her hooked up to the device regardless.

“Just in case,” the other man had said over the phone as Jasper had sorted through that delivery. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but if she continues to display more symptoms like this, she may be human before the new year.”

Jasper pushed the memory from his mind as he pulled Alice close, allowing her to snuggle closely, still wrapped tightly in layers of blankets. Even with the thermostat on 80, Alice shivered day in and out.

The wetness that dampened the collar of his shirt made his heart ache.

They remained like that, lying next to one another as Alice’s oxygen concentrator hummed. Jasper hated how he just knew she was warmer. Not as warm as humans were, but even through the layers separating them he could feel the warmth of her body.

She wasn’t indestructible anymore, and Jasper didn’t know how to handle that. Even with her body pressed tight against his, he worried. What if one day he kissed her and hurt her? Or if he squeezed her hand to comfort her and broke her fingers?

He could finally feel some measure of empathy for Edward while he’d been dating Bella all those years ago. The fear of hurting her was prominent in his every move.

Her cardiovascular system was still in limbo, and even as her body warmed and her cheeks slowly filled with color after every meal, her heart was still not beating. Against all odds though, her lungs were operating normally. No longer could Alice simply sit, not thinking about how her lungs didn’t require oxygen unless she needed to speak.

The day that symptom presented itself, she’d gasped for hours, uncomfortable and panicking. Jasper had been on the phone with Carlisle, desperate for guidance, and in hours they’d delivered the necessary equipment.

Hooking up the machine and wrapping the oxygen tube around his wife’s delicate face had made Jasper feel insane. As if this wasn’t real, and he was hallucinating this.

It had felt like the beginning of the end.

Eventually, he pressed a kiss to her head and left the room with the promise to return quickly.

He answered his buzzing phone as he flitted down the stairs.

“I’m on my way.” He spoke without looking to see who it was.

“Carlisle wants you to bring the empty oxygen canisters.”

It was Edward. Jasper shook his head at the request. “I have no way of cleaning them. And even if I do sanitize them I don’t want to risk it.”

Whatever it was that was warming Alice and that he potentially carried, Jasper didn’t want it transferring to any of his family.

“Just bring them. We can leave them to sit for a couple of weeks and then one of us will bring them back.” Edward commented.

Jasper sighed, already half-way out the front door, before turning back to the kitchen. “I don’t have time for this,” he growled impatiently into the phone. The tanks were unnecessary now that Alice was on a concentrator. Jasper thought it was a stupid risk but he’d been low on patience for days now and wasn’t about to argue now.

Grabbing a single empty tank he turned back and was out the door in an instant.

“Where are you?” Jasper spoke into the receiver.

“At the end of the driveway.”

Jasper paused at that, his feet grinding to a halt in the grass. He was suddenly reminded of the last time he’d met up one of them at the end of the driveway, two and a half weeks prior. “You better be alone.” It was dangerous enough for him to interact with any of his family members even at a distance, but whenever they showed up in groups it ignited his anger.

As far as Carlisle was aware, everyone else was either asymptomatic or simply wasn’t sick like Alice. But Jasper wasn’t about to be the one that passed… this on to their family.

“I am,” Edward snapped back, as if Jasper’s words, and not just his ability, could inspire a quick jump to irritation. “I couldn’t exactly carry everything in this shipment. Forgive me for bringing a car.”

Jasper hung up the phone then and made off quickly toward the end of their long driveway. It was a quick run, but Jasper was looking forward to getting this exchange over with. Edward was already wasting precious seconds by requesting an old oxygen tank. He wasn’t about to waste anymore time arguing with the younger vampire.

He saw the car before he saw Edward. It was a deep green color with a matte finish. Jasper could tell just by looking at it that this must’ve been the pet project Rosalie had taken up after they’d left for their Baltimore house back further east.

“She needs anything to focus on that’s not this,” Emmett’s words, like always, lacked proper tact, but while Jasper had glared at his brother over the FaceTime call, Alice had nodded understandably.

A car like this would surely stick out like a sore thumb in Martinsburg.

When the car door opened, Edward’s voice rang out. “She’s already moved on to another one. This one is going in storage after this drop off.”

Jasper didn’t nod, but he did watch carefully as his brother began to quietly empty the contents of the trunk of the car onto the pavement. A few large crates, and some smaller paper bags. When Jasper inhaled deeply, he furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Food?”

Edward closed the trunk and turned back toward Jasper, his expression grim. “Carlisle thinks it might help.”

“Help how?” It didn’t even matter that Jasper didn’t know the first damn thing about making and preparing human food. And it was irrelevant that oftentimes just the smell of human food left Jasper in a foul mood. What mattered was that having to feed his wife human food felt like another insane task he’d been given, and he didn’t know how the fuck he was supposed to just nod and go along with it all.

“I’m sure you can guess.” Even though they were standing quite far apart—at least ten meters—Jasper could clearly see the frustrated furrow of Edward’s brow. Jasper knew he hadn’t been the most pleasant person to interact with over the past month—it was one of the reasons Rosalie elected to tinker in her garage instead of sit on calls or volunteer for supply drop-offs, and it was why Esme had done one, and only one.

But Jasper wasn’t looking to snap at anyone today. He simply wanted to get what he needed (although today’s delivery would take a couple of trips) and go back home to his ailing wife.

“Are her visions still wavering?”

Jasper forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat. Looking away from Edward, he instead stared at the grocery bags piled beside the crates. “They’re nearly gone. She can only see me while awake, and others when she sleeps.”

Edward nodded, and Jasper hated how he knew the boy was digging through his thoughts, collecting images of Alice’s deteriorating, weakening body, and hearing the very real doubts Jasper had currently. Jasper gestured to the tank he was holding. “What do you want me to do with this? I’m not giving it to you.”

“Just toss it over there,” he gestured vaguely to a patch of bushes beside the driveway. “I or Emmett or whoever will pick it up in a couple of weeks.”

Jasper tossed the heavy item to the side without a second glance, his eyes still trained on the supplies. “Is there…?”

“Human and animal blood, yes.” Edward tapped the crate in the front with a foot.

Jasper nodded, swallowing the venom that pooled in his mouth, knowing that he’d be able to drink soon. When surprise and curiosity pulsated off of the boy, Jasper finally met his eyes. “What?”

“You seem fine.” Edward observed with half of a shrug. “I mean, physically. There’s a chance this actually isn’t contagious—”

“Stop,” Now. Jasper would turn and go straight back to the house without another word if Edward kept it up. With his fury just hiding beneath the surface, Jasper thought pointedly. Alice knew her visions would fail. Alice knew you guys would want to come help. But as long as we have those few, early visions of hers we need to be careful. I can handle things over here. When Carlisle finishes analyzing her venom and finds actual fucking answers, let me know. Until they, stay put. I’m fine, and I’m handling things. “Don’t you dare put yourselves in danger. Not until we figure this out.”

The two stared at each other for a few long seconds before Jasper felt himself start to get antsy. He’d only been away from the house for barely more than five minutes, but the more time passed the more afraid he was that Alice would fall asleep and wake again, scared and disoriented, with him nowhere in sight.

“I’ll go,” Edward finally nodded toward the house as he walked back toward the driver’s side and opened the door. “Please text Carlisle her temperature when you get back. And yesterday’s summary, too. Please, Jasper. We’re doing our best.”

And with that, he climbed into the car, started the quiet engine, and pulled off. Jasper waited until the car pulled around a bend in the distance, a thick patch of trees obscuring the vehicle from sight before he ran forward and grabbed the first crate, and in seconds he was rushing back toward the house.

He was still several hundred meters from the house when the sound of hacking reached his ears. Jasper nearly dropped the crate to the ground as he rushed through the front door and flickered up the stairs and into Alice’s bedroom, only to find her crumbled in a heap on the floor, wheezing and coughing.

“Hey, hey,” he swept her up into his arms quickly, wondering why on Earth she’d decided to pluck all the electrodes off and find herself a spot on the floor, far from her oxygen. But before he could ask what she was doing, he felt the dampness that covered her thin flannel pajamas and his heart broke.

Her gasping came from her attempts at crying without her oxygen tube. Jasper maneuvered her back onto the bed—being aware to avoid the wet spot in the center of the bedding—and placed the tube around her head, shushing her.

Two hours, one bath, and a change of bedding later, Alice was fast asleep in the bed, her hand limply clinging to Jasper’s as he typed a long text with one hand.

Things are worse, he began the text. I don’t know what to do.

It started with a vision.

On day thirty-two, Alice ate her first human meal she could ever recall. It wasn’t much; a thin soup that he’d unpacked and warmed from the last shipment. She sipped it slowly, getting some of it down her front. It was hard, she admitted quietly to Jasper, to use a spoon when all she had ever known was biting down on flesh and sucking down blood with force.

She’d managed to eat a single cracker before breaking down in tears, broken up over the very fact that it didn’t taste entirely repulsive to her anymore.

On day thirty-four, Jasper picked up another shipment. Emmett was in a somber mood as he dropped the small delivery off. Groceries for Alice, mainly.

“Tell me you have any news at all.”

Jasper raised an eyebrow at that, watching from a distance as his adopted brother shuffled and frowned. Sadness never suited Emmett, who was one of the brightest personalities Jasper had ever known; the guy had radiated positivity ever since the former-solder had known him.

“I don’t.”

Emmett shrugged at that, and Jasper hated how the taller man’s mood dampened further at those words. “Well, they always say no news is good news.”

Jasper met his sad golden gaze with a severe one of his own. “If I had good news we wouldn’t be doing this, Emmett.”

On day thirty-five, while Jasper read aloud to her, Alice accidentally scratched herself. Much like her hair, her nails were also beginning to grow at a snail’s pace. Along with that, they were more brittle than she was used to. While reaching over and adjusting the zipper to Jasper’s jacket she’d broken a nail, chipping the edge slightly. Then, she’d reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her head, scratching the now-delicate skin on her face.

It didn’t bleed, but Jasper could still smell the blood, resting idly beneath the surface.

On day thirty-seven they finally sat down and acknowledged what was happening. Jasper refused to say the word ‘human’ but Alice spoke it with a sad resignation, knowing that her body was somehow de-petrifying. “I don’t know if I’ll survive,” she whispered to him as he held her closely, tracing soothing shapes against her back. “In some visions it all ends here, in this bed. In others I can see myself all warm and pink, but the visions don’t go much farther than that, no matter what I do.

“I’m almost positive that I die, Jazz.” She whispered into the silent room. It remained silent for a while after that conversation, until Alice quietly informed Jasper that she needed to use the restroom, and he carried her out of the room, his mind still miles away.

On day forty-one, Alice’s temperature spiked. She slept seventeen hours that day, shivering for most of it, and crying out occasionally, with visions now only plaguing her in her sleep. Jasper held the thermometer against her head and when it registered 96.1 he threw the device, smashing it to pieces against the far wall of the bedroom. Alice didn’t budge.

On day forty-two, Alice woke up, her memory foggy. “Mom?” She called out, sitting up disoriented before Jasper could plant himself in her line of sight. When she flinched at the sight of him, gasping loudly, her shock smacked Jasper across the face. It took several long seconds for her to calm herself, recognition registering to Jasper before it showed on her face. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, hand against her chest as she struggled to regulate her breathing. “I’m sorry Jasper.”

On day forty-three Alice kissed him, harder than she’d kissed him in over a month. It was when her hands found the first button on his shirt that he stopped her, her name only a warning on his lips.

“Please,” she whispered as she kissed her way down his neck, her hands finding a different button as she pressed herself against him, “Jasper, please. I don’t know when we’ll ever be able to again.”

On day forty-three Alice and Jasper spent the entire day in bed. They’d pause in their lovemaking periodically for Alice to use the restroom, or eat a meal, or take a nap, and then resume in between. Jasper was used to handling her with care, but now it truly felt like his wife was made of glass. He was as careful as he dared, knowing that the second he hurt her in his passion would be the end of their physical relationship as far as either of them knew it.

It was early in the morning when Alice kissed him firmly and pulled away with a wince. “I think I need to stop,” and something akin to perspiration was beginning to gather on her forehead, her growing hair sticking to it firmly, “I’m… aching.”

And then, that was that.

On day forty-five she woke up with wide-eyes and was immediately unresponsive. Jasper spent several horrifically long minutes talking to her, checking her vitals, gently massaging and tapping her shoulders and limbs, trying to get her to come back to him, to speak, to do anything other than lie there, stare, and breathe.

He was seconds away from giving up and sending another hysterical phone call Carlisle’s way when she blinked twice and lifted her hand up, blindly reaching toward him.

“Alice, Alice, oh thank God,” Jasper pressed her warm hand against his cheek, inhaling slowly in order to collect himself and prevent his ability from affecting her. “It’s okay, it’s…”

But when Alice forced her eyes to look at him—warm, dark brown eyes—Jasper froze as he felt her wipe wetness from his cheeks.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered as he jerked back, his hands wiping the venom from his face with a panic.

For two days, Jasper’s gift was hard to control. Meaning that now, to his complete and utter dismay, Alice was just as miserable as he was.

It wasn’t that he cared about being a vampire. Sure, the power it supplied him with to protect Alice and his family was something he wouldn’t trade for anything, and with Alice slowly reverting back into a human he felt comforted that at the very least he could keep her safe.

But how was he supposed to protect her from all the dangers that were out there when he, too, would be human in time?

Forty-seven days after their family ran and they barricaded themselves in the house, confined to their West Virginia property, Alice broke.

“I wanted you to run,” she sobbed with all her might, yanking wires and throwing anything she could get her hands on across the room. “I wanted you to go with them. I didn’t want you to die, too. It’s my fault this is happening, it’s all my fault.”

She wouldn’t let Jasper anywhere near her that day. Even when she slept, her emotions were a turbulent storm, making it difficult for Jasper to even sit at her bedside while she tossed and turned and shivered.

On day forty-eight Alice spent the day apologizing profusely. For everything and anything under the sun. Jasper simply shook his head, kissed away her tears, and held her close. All while assuring her that she had nothing to apologize for.

It wasn’t her fault they were dying, after all.

On day fifty-eight, Jasper had a sobering phone call with Carlisle and Edward.

“I reached out to Aro,” and Carlisle didn’t even pause in his sentence when Jasper hissed ferociously, “to see if he could provide any help, or any answers.”

“If anyone wants Alice alive as much as we do, it’s Aro, Jasper. Stop,” Edward spoke up loudly. And although the boy couldn’t hear Jasper’s thoughts he had decades of knowledge of his inner-thought process to know precisely where this conversation was heading. “It wasn’t anything we wanted to do, with Alice as weak as she is—”

“She said so herself,” Carlisle chimed in, not giving Jasper time to verbalize a response, “she doesn’t think she’ll make it out of this. And with you sick, too, we aren’t left with many other options.”

“The Volturi have far more resources than we could ever dream of having,” Edward spoke. “If this is something that’s ever been documented before, they’ll be able to find it.”

“But as far as Aro is aware, he’s never heard of anything like this happening before. Especially something that can be contracted by other vampires, too. We’re all in the dark here.”

Jasper refused to update them on his own state that day. It was bad enough that Alice had gone behind his back—quite literally—and texted Carlisle that Jasper’s first symptoms had begun to materialize the other day, but he didn’t want anyone’s attention on him. Alice was the priority. Alice would always be the priority, and Jasper refused to give any information to his family on his own state entirely.

But still, he knew that Alice was very likely texting Esme right now while he listened to Edward and Carlisle prattle on about their research and findings, and about how ultimately, they’d come up with no solutions.

If Alice died, Jasper knew he wouldn’t have to wait for this sickness to kill him in order to join her.

And with this thought it was as if Edward was truly there, in person. “Jasper. Hang in there. We’re going to figure something out,” the boy insisted after a length of silence had fallen across the line. “Don’t do anything foolish.”

On day sixty, she fell asleep and didn’t wake up.

Jasper sat by her bedside and waited. After the first day, he called Carlisle, only for Esme to pick up the phone and ask him what was wrong. The sound of her voice, so caring and full of love, caused him to finally break down. He found himself crying venomous tears for nearly an hour as he listened to her soothing words.

“The best thing you can do is stay with her,” she said eventually. “Talk to her maybe. If its anything like our transformations, she can likely hear you. Tell her you love her, and stay close.”

So that’s what he did. For the entirety of that second day, when he wasn’t on the phone with a member of their family, he sat at her bedside and talked. About her. About their relationship. About how devastated he was that this illness had struck her. He reminisced out loud about their first meeting, his many regrets, and about how even though now human blood had been introduced back into his diet (his body had begun to reject animal blood days ago) it felt completely and utterly ridiculous that it was what had driven him to madness time and time again.

He talked about how much he loved her. About how she was everything to him. The reason for his attempts at interacting with the public, the reason he abstained from human blood in the first place, and the reason he consistently pushed through his thirst. She was the reason he’d stopped hating his appearance, scars still prominent on every inch of his skin. She was the reason he’d given peace a chance, and the reason he now had a family to call his own.

She’d given him everything beyond what he could have ever hoped for in this cursed afterlife of his, and he told her such as she lay there, the only movement coming from her chest slowly and steadily rising and falling. He talked more that day than he’d spoken in a long, long time.

“I suppose all that ‘playing human’ should’ve helped us out better for this, huh?” He spoke out loud into an empty room sometime after midnight on the second day. “You’d think it would’ve prepared us for something crazy like this, instead of sending us to the brink of hopelessness.”

On the third day, Alice’s temperature skyrocketed, registering a fever that Jasper could do nothing to break. He cycled through damp rags, always keeping a cool, fresh one pressed against the burning skin of her forehead, being careful not to bump any of the wires, old and new.

Carlisle had to talk him through the insertion of the IV the night before. Now that her body required human food and water, Carlisle explained that it was vital in keeping her healthy and alive. Still, it had felt alien to poke at her skinny, fragile arm, looking around for a vein that hadn’t pumped blood in over a hundred years.

Eventually he placed it somewhere Carlisle—who’d been video called to assist—approved, but even still, Alice did not budge.

On the third day, Jasper climbed into bed with her and carefully pulled her close to him. His own temperature wasn’t as cool as it once was, but he hoped that even in her unconscious state it would help to soothe her somewhat. He closed his eyes and focused hard on her slow, even breaths, combined with the low buzz of her oxygen concentrator.

And in minutes Jasper was asleep for the first time since the nineteenth century.

He woke up with a start, mind immediately aware of Alice’s prone form beside him as he moved himself up and out of the bed. His entire body was shaking as his mind caught up with what was happening. His entire head felt foggy but despite not having slept in well over a century he knew that something had woken him up.

It started with a vision.

On day sixty-three Alice’s heart began to beat.

It was a slow, steady rhythm. With one hand Jasper quickly dialed Carlisle and with another he reached out, resting his fingers against her wrist as he counted the beats. Feeling a pulse flutter beneath his fingers didn’t help to combat the dizziness Jasper was still fighting, but he knew that he had to pay close attention. Alice’s life—Alice with her beating heart and blood-filled cheeks and her fragile skin and bones—now hung in the balance.

“It’s beating,” he spoke in lieu of a greeting, “her heart. It just started back up. About,” he focused for a few seconds, “seventeen beats per minute. She still isn’t awake, but she… there’s a pulse.”

“Oh my—hold on; Grandpa!” A familiar voice yelled in the background of the call, and Jasper’s dizziness increased as he realized Renesmee had answered Carlisle’s phone. “Mom! Aunt Rosie! Where’s Grandpa! It’s an emergency! Uncle Jasper says—”

“What’s going on?” Rosalie was on the phone immediately, and Jasper had to close his eyes and rest his head against the side of the bed as he focused, forcing himself to concentrate on counting Alice’s heart beats. “Jasper?”

“Her heart is beating, Rose,” he spoke miserably. “Not fast. And she’s not awake.”

“Ness is getting Carlisle now,” Jasper could hear how it felt like suddenly Rosalie was moving around quickly. “What’s her respiratory rate?”

Jasper looked up then, eyeing the silent machines with confusion. Horror fell over him when he realized that not only were they silent, not even registering Alice’s slow pulse, but they were completely shut off. It wasn’t something he’d noticed before he fell asleep. He’d been too preoccupied with fussing over her unconsciousness and babbling on about nothing to notice.

There was no way he’d unplugged anything, on accident or even on purpose. In fact, the last time he’d recalled the bright numbers and words being lit on either of the machines was—

“I hate that beeping,” Alice had commented the day before she’d lost consciousness, “it’s so disturbing. Can’t we set it up to only alarm when things are working, instead of when they’re not?”

In an instant he’d rounded the bed and lifted the chords attached to the machines, finding them unplugged from the wall. In seconds they were plugged back in and Jasper was quickly examining Alice, ensuring that everything was hooked up properly.

At the sound of Rosalie still demanding things through the phone that he’d abandoned on the bed, Jasper reached out and pressed the speaker button. “She unplugged everything. I just—give me a minute.”

And the instant the machines began to register her vitals, the alarms began to blare.

“Her blood pressure isn’t going to register normally, but you have to pay attention to her heart and respiratory rates. If she’s human now you can’t let either of them drop down below what they are now. Do you hear me Jasper? Jasper!”

“I hear you,” he spoke miserably as he watched Alice’s chest rise and fall.

“The instant they begin to dip you say something. Now, whatever you do now you’re not going to get off this phone, you hear me?”

“Yeah,” he rasped, feeling the sting of tears begin to pull to the surface, “I won’t.”

Then, there was shuffling in the background and Carlisle was on the line. “I heard the news. Just stay on the line Jasper. Is your thirst manageable?”

“I’m not going to fucking hurt her,” he snapped, his nerves wound up so tightly that he couldn’t even hold the words back before they were being spat. “Forget me, Carlisle, how do I keep her alive?”

“Keep her heart beating, and if anything at all changes, you say something. Now, go over her vitals for me please.”

The next hour felt like the longest period of time Jasper could recall in his entire existence. He swore that the minutes ticked by like hours. He didn’t touch the phone once. It sat just where he left it on the edge of the bed, and sat at Alice’s side, listening and watching her with an unstoppable focus. Of course he registered the sound of his family talking, even if he wasn’t registering their words half of the time. Knowing that they were connected was enough to calm him to the point where he could apply his single-minded concentration fully to Alice.

He would do damn near everything he could to keep her alive, her visions be damned.

At some point he acknowledged that her IV bag had been empty for a few hours, which prompted a nearly-ten minute long argument in which Rosalie was demanding—and Carlisle was pleading—for him to leave Alice for a few seconds and go into the next room and retrieve a new one. Eventually he gave in, but only after Rosalie yelled, “Don’t be fucking stupid, get it so she doesn’t die and throw your tantrum later.”

(No matter how angry it made him, deep down he knew she was right.)

“Alice,” he whispered to her as he reached out and caressed her warm face, “how did this happen?” But the only signs of life from her were the slight rise-and-fall of her chest and the beeping of the electrocardiograph. And that was exactly what they were now: signs of life.

Jasper himself had been ignoring the uncomfortable feeling that was beginning to plague him whenever he went more than a few seconds without taking a breath. After his first symptoms had appeared he had started forcing himself to breathe normally, timing his breaths along with Alice’s without her noticing. Practicing for the day when his respiratory system would start acting like a human’s again.

He couldn’t even waste time thinking about what it meant to be human again. He couldn’t care about his warming body or the fact that he was weakening more and more every day. The only thing that mattered was that Alice made it out of this alive. Everything else was an afterthought. It was all for her.

Jasper didn’t realize his phone had died until Alice’s started ringing. He almost ignored it until he realized it was Carlisle’s number, and when he looked toward his own phone, and the blank, empty screen, he felt foolish as he reached forward and plucked Alice’s phone from her side.

He quickly muttered an apology and an explanation before placing the phone back down on the bed, speaker activated so he could go back to ignoring that device, too. A part of him knew that he should’ve grabbed one of the chargers that was just barely out of arm’s reach, but he didn’t dare move too far from Alice’s side.

He held her hand firmly in his, and waited.

“How is she?” Carlisle asked the question the second that the tempo of one of her monitors changed.

“Twenty beats per minute. Her breathing is…”

There was a beat of silence where Jasper stared from Alice’s prone body to the face of the screens on the machines hooked up to her. Something wasn’t right.

And then Alice’s respiratory rate took a nose-dive, alarms started blaring, and all hell broke loose.

There was a flurry of panic on the other side of the phone while Jasper stood fully, hovering helplessly over Alice’s body. This was it, he knew instantly even without ever seeing the vision himself. This was what Alice had foreseen. Her body, pink and fragile and human, slowly deteriorating in this very bed in this very room.

Alice had been wrong. She hadn’t cursed Jasper to his own fate by transferring whatever illness was de-petrifying their stone bodies. The curse itself lay in the fact that Jasper had been foreseen to watch the deterioration and death of the woman he loved more than anything else in the universe.

She had only ever apologized to him for getting him sick, as if that was something that was her fault. As if that were worse than this.

Rosalie’s voice broke through the yelling on the other side.

“Jasper! Listen to me! Keep her breathing.”

He’d watched and read every piece of instruction material Carlisle and Edward had sent his way, so he knew exactly what to do. But performing rescue breathing and watching it be done were two entirely different things. Having to force air into Alice’s lungs was the most agonizing thing he’d done in months.

Please don’t die, please don’t die, he thought the phrase over and over again as he focused on counting through each breath, being careful to only give her lungs the air they needed and not a bit more. It was after about a minute when he pulled back and actually looked at her, when he began to panic. The color that had been so steadily restored to her face was slowly fading away.

“She’s turning blue,” he shouted at the phone before gently tilting her head back again, plugging her nose, and giving a few more slow breaths, “Carlisle!”

There was chaos across the line and for a moment Jasper was afraid that the call had dropped as silence hung in the air. Then, what sounded like someone picking up a fallen phone. “We’re almost there, just hold on,” Esme’s voice spoke quickly.

That’s when the noises behind her began to make sense. The low pur of a car’s engine, the tell-tale sound of a vehicle speeding down the road. Jasper didn’t know how he’d missed the signs.

“No,” he pleaded desperately when he realized what that meant. “You’ll die.”

“No we won’t, sweetheart.” The smile in her voice nearly brought tears to his eyes. “Focus on Alice. It’ll all be okay.”

But for several long agonizing minutes he forced air into Alice’s weak lungs, and the alarms still blared. And when her already-weak pulse began to drop, he was beginning to think he’d failed. That he wouldn’t be able to do it. That Alice would be dead and it was all because he couldn’t protect her and—

The noise of glass shattering registered with his senses just as he was mid-breath, his mouth placed around Alice’s as he futilely attempted to bring her back. Hands were on his shoulders and when he was pulled away firmly he could only look up and shudder with relief over the sight of Carlisle and Rosalie working over Alice’s tiny, fragile body.

“I’ve got you man,” it was Emmett, “it’s going to be okay now.”

Jasper shook his head as he stumbled. But Emmett’s arms wrapped were around him from behind and he was pulling the blond backward far enough to give Carlisle and Rosalie space.

“You can’t,” Jasper protested weakly, feeling the tears that he’d been keeping at bay finally begin to spill over, “Alice didn’t want you to come.”

Emmett gave him a good shake, still not releasing him. “Well, too damn bad. Come on.”

Jasper didn’t have the strength to fight him as he was dragged from the room. He was sure that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to. Each day he’d grown weaker and weaker as more and more symptoms presented themselves. But when Emmett tried to force him down the stairs Jasper dug his feet into the carpet as hard as he could. (The fact that it didn’t force the wood to buckle beneath his feet was enough evidence of his own illness.)

“I can’t be far, please, Em.”

The sound of tires screeching to a stop outside of the house bought both of their attention toward the foyer, and when Esme burst through the front door, flickering up the stairs before stopping in front of the men, Jasper felt his knees begin to shake.

They’d surely all die now, too. Carlisle and Rosalie, who were hard at work trying to hook Alice up to whatever new device they’d jumped out of the car to sprint to the house. And Emmett and Esme, who were looking at him as if he were the one made of glass, and the one that was seconds away from shattering.

He wasn’t the one who needed putting back together.

“You’ll die,” he spoke, his voice rough with emotion as Esme reached up and placed her hands on his face, her own expression absolutely broken at the sight of him. “You’re all going to get sick now, too.”

When Esme smiled up at him, he felt his knees buckle. Thankfully, Emmett’s arms still trapping him like a cage kept him standing. “Alice made her choice in trying to keep us safe. Now, we’re making our choice. We aren’t going to leave you two to suffer alone anymore.”

“Carlisle and Rose are going to do whatever they can, man.” Emmett tightened his grip, perhaps sensing that he was the only thing keeping Jasper from hitting the floor.

A loud noise caused their heads to turn back toward Alice’s room and suddenly, there was calm. The only noises now were from the machines that were beeping calmly. And just under all of it, they could all hear the noise of a heartbeat, steady and strong.

“It’s going to be okay,” Esme whispered again when Jasper’s tears started anew. Slowly, Emmett released his grip, lowering Jasper to the ground where Esme wrapped her arms around him. “She’ll be alright. We’ve got you now. It’s alright.”

And the sound of that steady heartbeat was all Jasper could focus on as he buried his face against Esme’s shoulder and cried.

It started with a vision. And now they were past it, and Alice was still alive.

Eventually they helped him walk back into the bedroom, and when he climbed into bed beside Alice—his warm, pink, human wife—they simply let him.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead before grabbing her hand in his and closing his eyes. There would be time to discuss things with his family later, and to acknowledge the weight of what had happened tonight and what had been done. But for now, he laid beside Alice, and Jasper slept.

#jaliceweek20 #Alice cullen #jasper hale #twilight fanfiction #jalice fanfiction #the twilight saga #this is my FAVORITE from this week even if it is what? almost two weeks later??#who cares my parents came to town and now the US it attempting to remove a fascist from office #my priorities have been SCATTERED lads

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weirdochick56 · 4 years

Text

Mr. Evans II- Chris Evans AU Chapter Eleven

Teacher!Chris Evans x Student!Reader

Warnings: Explicit language. SMUT. DIRTY DIRTINESS.

Disclaimers: I don’t condone relationships of this kind, this is for entertainment purposes only. Please be gentle on my word-porn.

Word Count: 5, 347 words

A/N: This shit got dirty REAL quick. As I was writing it, I was so fucking confused by what my fingers were typing lmfaoooo. Also this story is nearly coming to an end and IDK what the hell im gonna do after. PLEASE stay safe and healthy y’all!

Read Chapter Ten here!!

***

(gif isn’t mine!)

You take a long gulp of the bottle.

“It’s like I’m stuck, you know?” You say looking off into the water. “Like I don’t know how to exist or move forward or hell, even back.”

Noah, the guy you’d met at the pool, nods in understanding, taking a sip from the bottle. “Yeah. I get that, but your situation is hella complicated. I get why.”

“I guess I just have never felt one hundred percent in it, you know? Like I could never fully let myself be happy because at any moment that shit could burn down. I’ve always felt like someone was out to get us, like all the fucking odds were stacked against us,” you mumble, shivering when a breeze swishes past the dark night.

It’s been a while since you had met Noah and he was a pretty cool dude. You just clicked- it was just like that with some people you know? You just get along from the get-go. You got to talking, slowly downing the bottle in the process of course and the more time ticked by, the more your tongues loosened.

You didn’t like to play into stereotypes or anything, but you were almost entirely sure Noah wasn’t one-hundred percent straight. But maybe that was just you.

You were at a healthy buzz right now but that wasn’t gonna last long at the rate you were chugging from the bottle.

“You wanna be with him?”

You sigh, hating that there wasn’t even a little doubt in your mind or heart at the question. “I do. But I don’t know how to go about it, you know? It’s all just so jumbled for me.”

Noah releases a little sigh, laying down on the cold gravel. “I know right? It’s like you love someone so much but you also know that being with them could be dangerous, no only to you but to the life you’ve built around yourselves individually. So it’s hard between choosing everyone else or your own selfish ass.”

You glance at him, raising your brows. “From personal experience?”

He laughs but it’s a bit strained- dry. “Yeah. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly uh- straight.”

“What?! I had no idea!” You mock gasp.

“Shut up.” He laughs, slapping your arm playfully. “Yeah well, he’s actually the most beautiful human being I’ve ever met. But we’re keeping it on the dL. Neither of our parents is exactly supportive. Mine are still a bit touchy even though they’re starting to tolerate the fact that their son is gay and his- well they have no idea. If they did that situation would go awry real quick.”

You sigh, laying your head drunkenly on his shoulder. “Aw, I’m so sorry Nini.”

He laughs, casually wrapping an arm around you. “Oh? Is that my new nickname?”

You nod. “Yep.”

“You know something, Nini?” You suddenly mumble in a slur.

“What?”

“You’re not selfish for loving him- whoever he is. You’re brave.”

“Yeah? And why do you say that?” He hums.

You take the bottle from his grasp, taking a long drink. When you’re done, you sluggishly wipe your lips.

“Because I’m a fucking coward,” you mumble shakily. “I’m so fucking scared of feeling. I just shut down like a robot,” you confess, quietly chuckling. “I numb myself so that I don’t have to face the reality of it all. You face that shit head-on. You’re staying and fighting for your love. That’s super admirable.”

Noah rubs your arm comfortingly. “Thanks.”

You nod, swishing your feet in the water. “It’s true. I wish I could just be with him.”

“Then be with him,” Noah says, simply.

Just like that. As if it were that straightforward.

“It’s not that easy. There’s so many things to consider.“

“Let me ask you a question,” he quickly quips. “Do you love him? Like really truly love him?”

You swallow harshly, gripping the bottle tightly in your hands. “With every fiber in my body.”

Noah nods firmly. “Then that’s it. And listen, I’m going to be honest because it sounds like everyone in your life has been lying to you and telling you basically all you need is love to make it work. It’s not. Relationships are hard fucking work. Especially if it’s one people will have a variety of feelings on. It takes effort, time, sacrifice and you know where all that comes from?”

“Where?” You pout drunkenly.

“From you. You have to be sure you want it you have to be willing to stay and fight. But you also need love. Without love, there’s nothing. If you’re sure you want to be with him, if you think your love is worth it, then I say go for it. It doesn’t have to be this huge announcement either. It’s your relationship- it’s there for no one else but you two. If you feel comfortable later on, then do sure you can tell people.”

You ponder on his words drinking more tequila, before finally speaking in a defeated tone. “I’m scared.”

He shrugs. “Life is really just one big risk you either choose to take or not. Plus, it’s like I told you; relationships are hard work. You have to keep working at it. Even when it gets hard.” He licks his lips. “He gave an ultimatum and from what you told me, you’re not going to be here for much longer. So not to pressure you or anything, but if there was ever a time to act this feels like it’s it.”

Maybe he’s right.

Needless to say, by the time Noah walks you home, you’re both absolutely hammered. You make sure to call him a taxi because it was late at night and you also make him promise to text you once he got there.

After he’s gone words keep ringing around in your head over and over and over again. And so do Margo’s. In fact, you felt like you were flying on a cloud of thoughts all whirling and detaching and stringing together back again.

You start replaying everything in your head- your whole relationship. From the start to now. Like a movie.

And your heart breaks even more because you realize right there and then that at some point, the movie suddenly stops.

The movie stops.

It hits you that you’ll have no idea how it ends. What’ll happen with you two. Where you’ll end up.

For some odd fucking reason, it makes you feel sick to your stomach to think about it that way, and your skin crawls. If you let him go, you’ll never him know how the movie ends... the thought tortures you slowly to sleep as it goes round and round in your noggin, pounding you with unbearable guilt and anxious thoughts.

When you do fall asleep, though, you have a strange dream that night. Or more like you have a nightmare.

You’re standing in your room and it’s just like it was when you went to sleep that night, except that on the other side, the usual long hallway isn’t there anymore. There’s only darkness.

Your anxiety kicks up because you know what the darkness is without even touching it.

It’s the not-knowing. The pitch-black emptiness which you’re expected to walk into blind. Fucking alone.

You start hyperventilating when the pressure to walk into it becomes too much, thrashing harshly against the invisible force pushing you into it. Screaming, salty tears, kicking...

It’s all too much. Your breathing is labored and your skin burns with hot tears.

And then suddenly and like a warm blanket- two muscular arms wrap around you from behind, tugging you into a hard chest.

Chris, your mind instantly whispers.

He easily tugs you back towards the room, hugging you to his front tightly.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

And in that moment of terror, with his familiar scent and soothing voice and tight embrace, he’s safety. He’s warmth and familiarity.

...he’s home. Your home.

You just lay there with him, holding each other.

The next image flashes by instantly and suddenly the darkness is back. But this time you don’t panic...because Chris is right there with you, holding your hand. And for some reason, you know -you’re one-thousand present sure- he won’t let go.

He rubs his thumb softly over your thumb, looking at you with those alluring blue eyes of his, that soft yet capturing gaze that made you feel all fuzzy.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I’m here. I’ll always be here.” He repeats his earlier sentence.

You wipe happy tears. “I’ve got you too.”

He smiles adoringly down at you, smile lines crinkling endearingly at the corners. “I know.”

And without a second’s thought you plunge straight into the darkness.

You gasp loudly, sitting straight up in bed. Your heart races, thumping harshly against your rib cage as beads of sweat trod carefully down your temple and side of your face.

Click.

Something in you suddenly clicks and it all becomes clear.

Was that all that was needed for realization to hit you? A single moment? A single split second in which the fog clears? A split-second where your vision suddenly elevates and the whole landscape is all there? The whole picture is laid out before you?

It’s early in the morning and you wince when the bright light of an early day hits you in the face, flopping over in bed.

You reach for your phone on the nightstand, quickly unlocking it before checking your contacts. You have a new text message. You click on it.

Hey, Hermosa. I got home okay. Thanks for the taxi, lol.

You smile gently, typing back.

Yeah np, Nini. Thanks for the advice. Needed it.

Your phone buzzes.

Ngl, kinda shocked we still remember that. Lmfao. Ur welcome tho.

You groan softly into your pillow when your head starts aggressively throbbing.

Sobriety sucks butt.

“Honey, are you okay?”

Your dad and Kennedy watch you as you haphazardly stuff your face with bacon and eggs then gulf it all down like a dog- brows raised and jaws slack.

Downing your warm coffee in one go, you get up, pushing the chair back with a loud screech and almost trip running over to the sink to put your dishes inside.

“Yes. I’m good. There’s just something urgent I have to go take care of,” you rush out, leaning down over them and giving each a chaste kiss on the cheek.

“I love you guys!” You yell, already half outside and still pulling on one of your sneakers as you clumsily hopped around.

You slam the door shut, running off as soon as you finish putting on the shoe.

Your head pounds inside your skull even having downed three aspirins and having a warm shower and your breakfast swishes inside your stomach with your harsh sprinting but you don’t stop.

Not until you reach his house.

You don’t think. Just feel. Feel how right this was. You’re done being scared of loving who you love. You had what you had and it was what it was, but what you had was him.

Chris.

All this time, he said you were his light. You were his angel.

But really he was your light. He was your angel.

You needed him just as much as he needed you- if not more.

Fuck everyone else.

This was yours. He was yours and you were his and you were done fighting it. Officially.

You had the realization that before, you’d always been just the tiniest bit reluctant. You subconscious put up your own walls to protect your heart, never fully allowing yourself to work on your relationship, never fully giving your energy to it.

But not anymore. No more walls. Just you. Just you, your love and a foundation for a fresh start.

You were exhausted- not of life or him or of the curveballs it keeps throwing your way. You’re tired of fighting yourself.

That’s the real fight you’ve been having this whole time. With yourself. You’re your own damn enemy. And isn’t that fucking tiring?

But you’re done.

Knocking loudly on the door, your chest inflated with so many emotions and with adrenaline pumping through your veins, you tug at your short shorts, hating that this was the first thing you saw and threw on.

Unfortunately, the next thing you saw was a short ass crop top so you were basically running around in your underwear.

You freeze out the nerves as soon as they start to set in when footsteps pad your way. None of that.

When Chris opens the door, you nearly fall over.

He gives you a once-over, his hair messy, and dark bags under his eyes. “Sweetheart what-“

You stare at him for a few seconds as does he, eyes wide and lips parted.

“Chris,” you breathe.

But you catch yourself and before you know it, you’re spilling all your damn beans right on his front porch.

You needed to. You had to get this off your chest or you would go absolutely insane.

“Chris before you say anything, I just want to apologize. I’ve been a huge fucking hypocrite. But I realize my mistakes and I-“ you laugh incredulously, looking at him. “I just want to be with you,” you mumble meekly, your voice low.

Not because you didn’t mean it, but because you were terrified of his reaction.

His eyes soften and he opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off.

“No, stop. I just need to finish what I have to say, okay? You were right. You scare me. What we have scares me. But I’m not willing to let you go just because I’m scared. I-” you swallow tears back down. “Being scared isn’t an excuse to let you go. God, I’ve never felt emptier in my life than these past few weeks. Not even when I was gone for two years. At least then I knew I was faraway from you. That I was somewhat safe from all these...feelings.” You gulp. “But being here-“ you shake your head. “Knowing that you’re just a few blocks away- I just want you to hold me, to make love to me, to love me in the way only you know how to.” You chuckle breathlessly. “God, I am so in love with you. Y-you complete me. You make me better- you’re the best fucking person I know. And I know I’ve been an asshole to you, or well let’s be honest we both have, but I guess mostly me- um anyway. I just- I’m here to stay.” You sigh softly, letting the words roll of your tongue like a vow.

“I’m here to stay,” you repeat softly but firmer this time, swallowing thickly at the sweet after taste.

You’re panting by the time you’re done, both thanks to the running and the little speech you just gave, but your gaze never leaves his. Not for the whole five minutes, he just stands there, looking at you with glimmering eyes.

“Chris?” You whisper.

“Say that again,” he breathes.

“Say what?” You frown.

“Tell me you love me again,” he mumbles, a single tear sliding down his cheek.

You smile a little, looking him in the eye. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” you repeat breathlessly. “I’m here to stay- if you’ll let me that is,” you add on in a clumsy, sheepish way.

He smirks, instantly yanking you into a hug. His arm wraps around your waist and head and your arms slither their way around his broad back. You melt into him, half with delight and half with relief.

The embrace says all the things you weren’t strong enough to say, it was passionate, warm, loving, fierce. You slid into eachother like to puzzle pieces. Like you were meant to be there- in eachother’s arms.

Chris holds you tighter to him, using your trembling body, which you hadn’t even noticed was shaking, as an excuse you stuff his nose into your hair and press your chest to his.

“I missed you,” he breathed into you- easy as air. A breath he’d been holding for far too long and needed to release.

A breath that, once uttered, made you instantly freeze.

You slowly parted away from him so you could properly peer into his eyes and because you have no idea how much being back with him was going to be for you emotionally.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, tears sprouting from your eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just scared. I’m always scared.”

He shakes his head at you, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. “I get it, sweetheart. I was scared too. But we’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

He holds his arms out again, but catches himself before wrapping them around you and pulling you to him entirely, the question clear in his eyes; was this okay?

This embrace wasn’t like the one a few moments ago, this one was cautious because you were walking new ground. A ground that was undiscovered but all the same exciting.

A ground that was the foundation for a new path to happiness. A new beginning.

You simply nod in response, too tired to try to fight your need for his warmth off.

He wastes no time pulling you to his chest- nice and tight and you instantly hug him back, loving the feeling of safety and warmth you felt there.

You realize that no matter where you go or who you’re with, nothing will ever feel like being in his arms. Nothing will ever feel like home. Not like him.

His hold tightens on you- like he’s afraid of letting you go and you tighten your own hold to signify your own heightened emotions.

The buzzing in your skin, the racing of your heart, the flush of your face, the fluttering of your tummy- all the emotions that made you feel like there was endless hope and warmth and good in the world- you missed it all.

You listen to his slightly accelerated heartbeat and nestle your head against his chest. “So we fight?”

He heaves a heavy exhale. “We fight.”

You lick your dry lips, taking a deep breath. “Okay.”

He pushes you back slightly, brows raised. “Really?”

You can’t help but smirk a little bit. “I think I still have a little bit more fight left in me.”

You shift in his arms, resting your head on his chest an adjusting the leg you’d hastily thrown over his waist.

After your talk, you’d agreed that a little alone time was in order. So you threw yourselves onto his bed and did what anyone in your position -with unspent sexual frustration and endless simmering desire between your souls- would do and cuddled.

“Sweetheart,” he begins, twirling another strand of your hair in between his fingers.

“Hmm?” you mumble drowsily, drawing a new pattern on his chest with your fingertips.

“Do you love me?”

You pause, brows furrowing. Leaning up on your elbow, you peer down at him. “What?”

He smiles a little. “You heard me.”

“Why do you ask?” You blush bright red.

He chuckles, brushing a hand against your cheek. “Well, I’m not like you, angel. I actually need to hear the words. Again,” he adds cheekily.

You stare at him blankly for a few seconds, contemplating his face. He was perfect. Even the small dips or indents on his skin. Every sharp and soft line, every curve and dip and area of soft flesh.

Beneath you, his muscles strained against his soft pajamas and his warmth surpassed layers of skin and clothing in order to deep into your bones, warming you entirely.

But that wasn’t what made him beautiful. No.

It was the fact that he was such a dork when it came to Charlotte Brontë and Bram Stroker even when he tried to hide it. It was the fact that for years he put aside his own pain to focus on the futures of his students. The pain of losing his wife.

It was that he looked at you like you were his beginning and his end and everything in between. It was the fact that he was unwilling to relent to everyone and everything telling him he couldn’t have you and that he was willing to forgive you.

It was that he was still here. Still fighting even when everything could be lost.

He wasn’t just perfect. He was authentic. And he was beautiful just the way he was.

You finally nod, whispering lightly. “I do. I love you more than anything in the world.”

You’ve never meant anything more in your life. And it didn’t matter what would happen next because you’d be together when it happen and you’d take it on together. You’d always have eachother.

He beams adoringly, running his hands through his hair.

You instantly raise a brow. “What?”

He frowns at you. “What?”

You chuckle, a tiny smirk tugging at your lips. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”

“Wrong? Nothing is wrong. Why does something have to be wrong?”

You instantly smile, patting his cheek as you hook your leg over him tighter in order to get more comfortable. “You just ran a hand through your hair; something’s definitely wrong,” you say as if it’s obvious before softening. “C’mon talk to me.”

He looks into your questioning eyes for exactly three seconds before breaking. “Dammit, why do your eyes have to be so big and…shiny? I can never lie to them,” he mumbles under his breath.

You laugh pressing a little kiss to his stubbled cheek. “It’s my secret superpower. Now; spill.”

He sighs, looking down at his hands. “Nothing I guess I’m kind of second-guessing now. N-not of us o-or anything!” He rushes to explain immediately after. “Just-” he sighs again, looking back down. “I dunno. I feel like I’ve been pressuring you. What if this isn’t what you really want?” He gazes into your eyes, concern swimming in his deep pools. “Is it?”

Unable to hold back a snicker you grin lightly at him. “I just gave you an entire speech about how much I want to be with you and you’re questioning it? Bit late, don’t you think?” You joke lightly.

He deadpans. “Y/n.”

You sigh. “Yes, it is what I want. No backing out this time.” You hold out your pinky with a tiny giggle. “Pinky promise?”

He raises a brow at the small finger, scoffing at the notion. “Angel, I’m a masculine manly-man do you really think that I’m gonna pinky promise you? No.”

You wiggle your pinky with a tiny pout. “C’mon!”

He sternly peers down at you (again for exactly three seconds) before breaking down once more, half-heartedly linking your pinky with his and grumbling for a second time about how your eyes were “unfairly adorable”.

You laugh tightening your finger on his, as you gaze into each other’s eyes tenderly. “I pinky promise to always be with you. No matter what.”

He smiles softly, repeating your words back to you with the tenderest look in his eye. “I pinky promise to always be with you. No matter what.”

When you take your pinkie back, he rolls his eyes, chuckling. “I can’t believe you made me do that. I hate you.”

Lightly shoving his shoulder, you place a soft peck on his cheek. “You know you love me. Plus, c’mon, I came looking for you here, I can’t leave without at least a pinky promise.”

He smirks, wiggling his brows suggestively. “You do realize this means I won, right?”

“Won?”

He nods enthusiastically. “Yeah. This time, you came for me. So I won.”

You snort. “Asshole.”

He chuckles as you suddenly grow serious.

“You know, I hate that you know me better than I know myself. I can never hide from you,” you whisper as he grips your face with his hand.

“You don’t have to,” he says sincerely, looking directly at you. His dark gaze pierced your soul and your breath hitches, forming a huge lump on your throat. “Not from me. Not ever.”

You shiver under his touch, leaning into him. You bite your lip as you gaze at him from under your lashes. “What if what I’m trying to hide is ugly?” You husk.

He simply smiles, like what you’re saying is utterly impossible. “Then you don’t try to hide it. I want to see it all. Because you know what? In the end, I know it’s all going to be beautiful.”

You can’t keep the damn goofy smile from tugging at your lips as you softly kiss his nose. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you breathe. “I love you so fucking much.”

He pecks your cheek lightly in response, resting his forehead on yours.

“Who are we without scars, without stories to tell? Your flaws make you who you are, angel. And I’ve fallen in love with you. All of you.”

You smile softly at him, your heart thumping loudly inside your chest. “You make me all crazy, you know that?” you mumble.

He laughs, closing the distance between you two and brushing his lashes against yours. “I’m sorry.”

You giggle against his lips, softly moving yours against them as you peer into his darkened eyes and wide blown pupils. “No, you’re not.”

He rubs his thumb across your cheekbone tenderly, tracing your skin like he was afraid you’d break if he pressed too hard or rubbed too much.

“You’re right- I’m not,” he breathes hotly against your skin, playing with your lower lip.

You press your nose to his, pressure building in your chest as you slowly begin straddling him. “Do you want me?”

His other hands grips your other cheek, gaze pinning yours down with ease. “All the damn time,” he responds without hesitation, voice growing deeper and more primitive.

You smirk down at him, forgetting entirely about everything and everyone else.

“Really?”

He looks at you incredulously. “Are you serious? How do you not know what you do to me, sweetheart?”

“No, as a matter of fact, I don’t. What do I do to you, Chris?”

Your pussy begins pulsating rhythmically, panties damp at the implication.

He inhales sharply, clamping down on that plump lip. “Shit sweetheart. You want details?”

He seemed startled but turned on all the same.

You bite your lip, feeling your nipples harden under the soft fabric of the shirt and nearly let a moan slip when it rubs against the sensitive nubs as you move.

“Yes. I want you to tell me exactly how much you want me. I want you to tell me how you’ve imagined me before. What you’d do to me if you’re given the chance,” you rasp all in one breath.

As you speak, you grind your down hips on his, enjoying the much-needed friction it created in your sensitive spot.

He clenches his jaw, eyes ablaze with that fire you missed so much.

“Careful sweetheart,” he grits out through clenched teeth, hands dropping to your ass and hips. “If you get too close I might burn you.”

You look him in the eye, knowing damn well your own unquenchable fire was swaying sensually back and forth in your eyes. You wanted him—bad. In fact, you fucking needed him. You needed him like you needed air to breathe. Fuck, you ached for the feeling of his cock inside you, claiming you as his. Because damn you were his.

“Then burn me,” you say with full intent.

His eyes snap shut, fingers digging into your flesh.

“Jesus Christ, Y/n. If we don’t stop right now I can’t promise I won’t fuck you ‘til you’re screaming.”

Your pussy instantly grows wet at his words, pulsating far more aggressively than before as you move your hips faster.

“Fuck Chris. Have you dreamed about me?” You pant.

He looks up at you through heavy-lidded eyes, dick stirring in his pants. “Almost every night,” he admits without shame or hell- even embarrassment.

Than only makes you more flushed.

You lick your dry lips, his eyes following the movement. “Yeah? And what am I wearing?”

He closes his eyes, hands traveling down to your thighs before rising gradually up to your waist, pushing fabric out of the way. You tremble beneath his fingertips and he uses the chance to guide your movements against him, his long fingers setting a rhythm for you to move to.

He hisses with pleasure. “Y-you’re wearing my t-shirt. Only with panties underneath.”

You inhale deeply, chest rising but not falling just yet at the vivid image. “Mhm,” you hum softly. “And where are we?”

“My bedroom. You’re sprawled out on my bed, sleeping.”

You bite your lip. “Are you hard yet?”

“Hell yes,” he breathes, digging his nails into your ass. “I can see your ass from here. All of that for me,” he moans softly against your chest as he adjusts you and his grip on you so your tits are closer to his face.

You arch back at the sensation of having his hard cock rubbing against you from beneath his pants.

“You’re moving around in your sleep and I’m getting harder because you look so damn innocent but sexy all at once. Like you’re just asking me to ruin you.”

You moan against him, accidentally brushing your nipple against his lips in the frenzy of your dry humping.

You freeze for a second, letting the sensation sink into your cells, warming them with electrifying bliss before moaning louder when Chris lightly opens his mouth to take one of them in over the thin material of the shirt.

Your mouth falls open at the sensation and your finger rake through his hair, tugging on the strands harshly as he gently suckles on the sensitive bud, rolling his tongue around it with expert sensuality.

His eyes meet yours as he does this and neither of your looks away as he flicks his tongue back and forth, causing your whole body to nearly overload with bliss.

“Fuck Chris,” you mewl, digging out nails into his scalp.

He stops sucking, using his finger to play with them instead. Your mouth falls open in a choked-up scream as he continues narrating his dirty dream for you.

“Even from there I can see how soft your skin is. How perfect your tits are and how good they’d fit in my hands. It’s torture until I walk over to you and grab one of your ankles gently in my hands…”

“Yes?” Your breath hitches as he hits a sensitive spot.

“And the other one too. Then I slowly part them. I don’t want to wake you yet. Not like that.”

You bite your lip, holding back a moan.

“When I’ve completely opened your legs, I slowly crawl up your body, kissing your legs as I go. When I reach your inner thighs, I slowly lift my shirt up….” he trails off, his thumb softly grazing your sensitive nub.

Your head flies back at the sudden jolt of pleasure it sends up your spine. “Shit Chris,” you groan.

“I start leaving open-mouthed kisses all over your soft skin. You’re shifting in your sleep, growing wetter, but you still haven’t woken up. Finally, I kiss your pussy.”

At the words coming out of his sinfully soft mouth, you feel your stomach clench, mouth capturing a silent scream and swallowing it back down.

He keeps you moving against him, his fingers gripping your thigh and his thumb working soft circles into your now soaked panties.

You gyrate into his hand rhythmically, fully concentrated in how good he felt.

“Uh-huh,” you finally grit out.

He continues speaking, voice strained and tone nearly drowned out entirely by animalistic frenzy. “You slowly peel your eyes open as I’ve begun flicking my tongue over your clit back and forth.” He copies the motion he describes with his thumb, smirking viciously when you nearly fall over him.

“I’ve been doing it over your sheer lace underwear this whole time, but when you are finally awake, your smell and your taste become too much for me to handle. You intoxicate all my senses sweetheart. I just want you on my tongue. I want you to ride my face until you cum in my mouth.”

And that’s all he needs to add to his jerky thumb movements for you to cum. Hard.

As if he can sense that you’ve reached a climax, he watches you with hunger, drinking in the sight of you coming all for him. “That’s right, sweetheart. Cum for me. All for me. Fuck, Y/n.”

You convulse, cursing like a damn sailor into his mouth. “Fuuuuck Chris!”

When you’re done, you slouch against him.

He hugs you to him and the rumble of his laughter travels through you, causing your sensitive insides to tremble. “You okay, sweetheart?”

You lift your head carefully. “Yes.”

He smiles. “Good. Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to make love to you.”

“Oh.”

Read Chapter Twelve here!!

***

The flashbacks to Mr. Evans I are real. Omfg.

I’m literally in love with him.

A special thanks to:

@star-spangled-steve

@tomoyaevaans

@pepsicola-is-my-brand-man

@whereeverythingisbetter

@fallenoutofrose

@plutonium-m

@beepbeepromanoff

@faithmichaluk

@sincerelytlh

@tomshelbystits

@kind-sober-fullydressed

@emmarogers222

@sashimi-cat

@zofty15

@gemgemswift

@fafulous

@chljmntgy

@thatssograce

@leclerc-stan

@colddsalsa

@evansislife

@chris-butt

@captainchrisstan

@marvels-gurl

@davestridersrightnipple

@agirlcanstilldream

@notbexmader

@ib-ebe

@byrogers

@theangrylizard

@oh-hey-janina

@mannatgalhotra

And My forevers!

@jessikared97

@ladyofletters67

@lilypalmer1987

@sammykb1994

@tomshelbystits

#Chris Evans #chris evans au #teacher au #teacher!chris evans x student!reader

170 notes · View notes

unsteadyfiction · 4 years

Text

“to be okay”

it came out of nowhere

it started at a stoplight

that song came on

and i thought about all the shit that happened when i used to play that song on repeat

pull up to the curb

“ill be inside in a second” i told him

turn up the volume

heart rate rapidly rises

choke on my breath

scream in my head

no sound comes out

rest my head on the steering wheel

taste the salty tears on my lips

fumble around for something sharp

try the glovebox, the center console, my backpack, my purse

all i have is my keys

pull them out of the ignition

scratch my forearms but they didn’t bleed

need something more

that’s when i found it

the bottle

hear the pills bounce against the plastic container

grab it and unscrew the lid

five

there were five in the bottle

not enough to do anything

shit

not enough to do anything

should i tell someone?

i should tell someone

i told someone

over a fucking instagram dm

but i told someone

do i have a drink in here somewhere?

shit

i hate dry swallowing pills but here i am

one

two

three

cough

four

cough

five

cough

and then there was the knock on the window

they cared about me

they were worried about me

but it wasn’t going to stop me

coping skills?

fuck no

im gonna do it

im gonna kill myself

i can’t fucking do this anymore

you held my hand

your hand was cold

or maybe mine was hot

but i let your fingers slip out of my grasp

look you in the eyes

remember that i am human

that i have something to live for

but it wasn’t going to stop me

tell you i am okay

and that i am going home

you told me to call you and keep myself on speaker as i drove home

“okay”

turn on the car

pull away from the curb

four way stop

turn right

gas station

“can minors by OTC drugs in missouri”

yes

okay

pay with cash

unbox the bottle

one

cough

two

cough

three

cough

“are you there?”

“yeah”

“how far are you from home?”

“im almost there”

“what street are you on?”

“cherry”

lie

liar

stop lying

pull out of the parking lot

turn right

now im actually on cherry

four way stop

home is straight ahead

if i keep going i can’t turn around to go home

turn right

parking lot

its empty

put the car in park

one

two

cough

three

cough

four

cough

swallowing pills with a dry mouth isn’t easy

“paige?”

“yeah”

“where are you?”

“in a parking lot”

“we called the police”

“what?”

sirens

i can hear them from here

shit

shit shit shit shit shit

i don’t have a choice

i have to go home

put the car in reverse

turn left

four way stop again

turn right

this is it

i couldn’t do it

i couldn’t fucking do it

im never good enough

im not smart enough

or pretty enough

or normal enough

i need to go

i need to go away

i can’t fucking do it anymore

pull into the neighborhood

see the ambulance

see the police

see him in the driveway

see them in the driveway

mom

shit

see mom in the driveway

she’s so disappointed

she’s angry

she’s not gonna talk to me for days

she doesn’t come talk to me

she can’t even look at me

she’s so disappointed

get out of the car

police

ambulance

EMTs

so much going on around me

but im numb

emotionally numb

emotionally exhausted

emotionally dying

physically alive

physically here

here in my driveway

here on a stretcher

here in an ambulance

watching my house fade away

watching him fade away

wanting myself to fade away

not thinking about consequences

oh shit

consequences

they’re gonna send me back to inpatient

i can’t go back

i can’t go back to inpatient

i can’t do it

don’t make me go back

i can’t eat hospital food

i can’t sleep with fluorescent lights on

i can’t write with a stub of a pencil

i can’t shower in that cold tile bathroom

i can’t

i can’t do it

i can’t go back

don’t make me go back

now im at the ER

empty hospital room

nothing but a wooden bed and a chair

a tv, but no remote

no clock

no window

IV full of water

blood test

drug test

psych eval

EKG exam

never felt less human

take a nap

sit around and wait for doctors to come and go

dad prays for me

mom glares at me

all i want to do is see him

and hold his hand again

and hold him

him

fuck

whats he thinking

he’s got to be worried out of his mind

who’s gonna help him if i can’t

i need my phone back

i need to call him

i need to tell him that im okay

i need him to be okay

to be okay

tears

screams

breaths

lies

to be okay

i get to go home

i get to go home?

holy shit

i get to go home

its a miracle

text him

hes not okay

to be okay

hes not

he needs help

i couldn’t be there for him

shit

i couldnt be there for him

his parents are probably angry

and upset

and confused

me too

i just wanna go home

the drive home feels like forever

get home

eat dinner

listen to the new rules and boundaries

fuck

i shouldn’t have done this

now i don’t get to drive or see my friends or sleep in my own bed

fuck

its my fault

that’s what i get for being so fucking sad

to be okay

its all i want

but at the same time

i don’t want to leave this headspace

i feel comfortable here

this is what i know

i don’t want to be happy

this is who i am

i don’t want to be okay

to be okay

fuck

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

cry

scream

breathe

cry more

scream more

breathe more

this isn’t me

im not me

this isn’t who i am

who am i

who is in my body right now

its not me

im not me

im not okay

okay

emotional exhaustion

not okay

suicidal

really not okay

so fucking sad

im really not okay

to be okay

will i ever be okay?

maybe

maybe not

oh, to be okay

-p.h.

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valleyofearthsbeginning · 5 years

Text

The Only Home She Knew: Ch. 1 Almost Mrs. Merlotte

Delia Reynolds has been missing for 10 years. Now she finds herself coming back home a little different but the only thing that has stayed the same is the town of Bon Temps and her love for Sam Merlotte. Does Sam still love her after all these years? Can he forgive her?

_______________________________________________________________________

It was like nothing had changed, in ten years nothing had changed. Bon Temps was just as bland and dull as it was when she left it. The wind stirred against the willows, bringing up the smell of rancid swamp water and whatever animal was dying close by. It burned her nostrils given that her sense of smell was in overdrive. She was close to a restaurant of some kind; the odor of meat grilling was at least a mile away. It was dark, the kind of dark that seemed to never end in the south.

It was the kind of dark that could send chills down your spine, whether you were human or not. The only glimpse of light was the little flickers from the fireflies buzzing around, the aura of the restaurant ahead, and the moon. She decided to run ahead.

‘ Merlotte’s ’, she read. Her face lit up brighter than the moon above her. She knew once she opened those doors, she was home.

She stood there amazed at everyone and everything. The people of Bon Temps were laughing and drinking themselves to death, like she never left. She scanned the room, until she recognized a loud mouth and a head full of bright crimson hair. Arlene. She made eye contact with Arlene and suddenly, the pitcher Arlene was holding crashed down to the floor.

Arlene just stood there, not moving a single muscle, like she was frozen in time. ‘Ho-ly shit’, were the only words that managed to escape her lips. Soon the whole room went silent. Another voice emerged from the back.

‘Arlene, you can’t keep droppin’ the-‘. She took a step back. It was like going back in time, he still looked exactly the same.

His hair was exactly the same, maybe a little longer and definitely a little grayer. Damn, that man knew how to wear a pair of jeans! Everything fit perfectly. She met him in the eyes and instantly she felt drawn to him like she never left. Just like the last ten years never happened. She could see the look of anger, disbelief, and hurt all in one glance. But she always got weak in the knees for Sam Merlotte .

‘Delia?’ He sputtered.

She found herself gushing with excitement. She walked towards him, arms open. She wrapped around him tight him, breathing in his scent. Even though everything was so strong to her this was so different. It was comfortable. It was home.

‘Sam’, she whispered longingly into his ear.

‘ How did you- where did you-‘ He responded the way she expected him to, the way she expected anyone to respond but the thing was that she knew Sam. She knew what made him happy, what made him tick and she would never forget.

‘Is there somewhere we can talk?’ she asked him. He nodded.

Nothing was said as she followed Sam towards his office, they walked in silence. The crowd was still quiet but, she could hear the gossiping whispers. As she passed the kitchen, she saw an uncooked hamburger being slapped on the grill. It only reminded her that she hadn’t eaten in about three weeks; the ringing in her ears began. She was used to not eating for long periods of time. It was how she learned to curb her hunger for human flesh. At first she fed on squirrels and other animals, but they had a gamey taste she really didn’t care for. Once True Blood came along she found the transition a lot easier.

She entered his office and he closed the door behind him. She started to feel faint, soon enough she was starting to look at the ceiling.. ‘Whoa, hey!’ Sam caught her just in time before she hit the floor. The nosebleeds began. This always happened when she didn’t feed well, not only her but, every vampire got the bleeds. Sam ushered to the chair at his desk and gave her a towel for her nose. ‘Have you eaten? You look-‘

She giggled at him. ‘What? Sick? Pale?’

‘No, you look the same, exactly the same.’ He said as if he just said an ugly secret out loud. She looked at him and sighed.

She realized that she had a lot of explaining to do, not just to Sam but to everyone. She looked at him in the eyes. He was giving her the same look he had ten years ago. Her eyes began to drift to the box of True Blood on the floor. Sam followed her eyes to the box. It took him a minute to figure out why she was looking but it all came together.

‘You’re a-?’ Once again like letting out a dirty little secret. She saw the anger and pain rise in him.

Sam, I promise I will explain everything to you, I promise. Just let me eat , okay?‘ She gathered enough strength to walk towards him. She kissed him gingerly on his cheek and smelled his scent once more. Sam closed his eyes.

“Who the hell does she think is, she comes here after ten years and I’m supposed to wait until she decides to get good and ready to tell me the truth?” he thought to himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

He loved that girl more than anything in this world. Hell, he would give her the world if he knew how. He nodded his head and remembered that he had a restaurant to run.

`‘We can talk when I close up. Take my keys, there is a string a housing complexes just down the road, mine is the second one on the left. Take as much True Blood as you can carry and just wait for me there.’

Sam really didn’t know why he was so trusting of her, he didn’t know where she had been or who she could’ve possibly become while she was gone. ‘Sam.’ She called out after him.

‘Thank you’ She honestly didn’t know what else to say, she knew she was asking a lot, especially after what she put Sam through. He nodded and walked out. He began to think, ‘Is this why you couldn’t pick up a fucking phone? Huh? We have been looking for you for ten years, Delia, I thought you were dead.’

He couldn’t keep his mind on anything else. Especially since Arlene kept staring at him, he swore she was burning a hole right through him. He knew what she was getting at, she was wondering what he was going to do now. The answer was that he didn’t know and he was pretty sure there were no self-help books on what to do when the girlfriend you intended on spending the rest of your life with, disappears for ten years and comes back as a vampire. For right now he was going to keep it as normal as he knew how.

Delia walked up the steps to the house. She reached for the screen when the dog on the porch seemed to feel threatened. ‘Shhh, hey now its ok. I’m a friend, I promise.’ She gave the pup a straight look in the eyes and a rub behind the ears. Immediately, the canine rolled over onto its belly, waiting to receive all the scratches it could get. Delia smiled from ear to ear like the pup before her.

She opened the door into Sam’s house. It was rather un-homey. Other than the god awful wallpaper, which she knew Sam probably picked out, he never was never one for decoration. He had no sense of style really, for goodness sakes all he ever wore were jeans and t-shirts or whatever awful button up he could find. But that was Sam.

Other than a few boxes there really wasn’t any sign of anyone living here. She looked around to see what kind of man Sam had become, while she was gone. She wanted to see vacation photos, photos of friends or even ex-girlfriends hell, even current girlfriends. Thinking back, she realized that Sam was always alone. If she wasn’t with him, he was alone. She couldn’t help but think if he had been alone the whole time while she was gone.

She walked into the kitchen to look into the fridge. Nothing. She put the four cases of True Blood onto the floor and put one bottle into the microwave. It really didn’t taste any better hot but it tasted better than cold blood. She soon wandered into the back bedroom. The bed was unmade.

“Maybe he slept here,” she thought.

She placed the bottle of True Blood on the nightstand and knelt down, she could smell him on the pillow and sheets. “He definitely slept here.” She breathed him in. She started to think of the days she would spend in bed with Sam. She would first spend a few hours with him but he would wrap his arms around her waist and pepper kisses on the back of her neck.

‘Baby, please don’t go. Please just a few more hours. It gets so goddamn lonely out here, baby please!” He begged and pleaded.

She loved being alone with him. They would always joke about getting married and starting a family. They joked about going around the world and one day opening a restaurant. They joked even though every time she could tell Sam Merlotte wasn’t joking. Next to the bed was a box of old t-shirts. She dug deeper into the box to see if she could find anything else about Sam. Found a picture. Nothing new, just a memory, something she had almost forgotten.

It was her and Sam on a lake outside of Shreveport. It was after college finals and Sam wanted to reward her or more like reward himself, because they could start the next phase of their life together. He was holding onto her hips tight and kissing her cheek, while she smiled into the camera. She also remembers the fight they had right after that picture was taken. Sam was ready for their lifetime adventure, while Delia wanted to take her time and start things slow.

‘ What about our plans, baby? What about what we talked about?’ He protested.

``I know, I know. We could still do it. You can come with me and get an apartment. And hey, since you got your GED, maybe you could take a few classes –‘

‘I don’t have the money for schools like these. Why can’t we just do like we planned?‘

She wanted to go with Sam so bad but she knew if she didn’t get a diploma for something that she could really get a job, that also paid well, she would be kicking herself for the rest of her life.

‘I’m not saying we still can’t do it, im just saying if I get a decent education then that would make the future so much easier. We wouldn’t make that many mistakes later on.’

‘What do you mean by decent education? Mistakes? What mistakes?’ His blood was boiling. ‘Look just because I didn’t go to any tight-assed college doesn’t mean –‘

‘Oh yeah because I forgot you’re the Lone Fucking Ranger! I get it Sam, AUTHORITY BAD! I’m not asking you to enroll in fucking Oxford, I’m just asking you to do something that’s going to help us-‘

‘Well you sure as hell wasn’t thinking about us when you decided to get rid our baby.’

He said it to spite her. He knew that ate her up inside, he knew that she hated herself for what happened but it was too late for him to take back what he said. He saw the tears and hate swell up in her eyes but he was mad at her, he was mad because it seemed like she was trying to destroy the family that he wanted, the life he wanted to have with her.

Tears fell from her eyes like a stream. She didn’t know what to say, she didn’t even know what to feel. She couldn’t be mad at him for saying it; it hurt him as much as it hurt her but the way he said it like he was using it to make her feel guilty. That baby didn’t ask to be conceived, it was too many tequila shots and Delia feeling needy.

‘Fuck You.’ It came out like she couldn’t breathe

She took one of the oars. Sam thought that he was going to end up in the lake. She pulled the boat towards the dock, which was a lot harder than she thought, she usually let Sam row. All he could do was watch her because God knows what she’d do to him if dared to try to talk to her right now.

Once the boat reached the dock, she hoisted herself up on the ladder and ran. She really had no idea where she was going but she didn’t want to look at Sam Merlotte. Her tears flew back against the wind making it hard to see where she was going. She decided to stop in the middle of a meadow of dandelions not to far from the lake. She collapsed down into the ground hard. Her body was shaking from crying.

She jumped when Sam came and put an arm around her, she could barely hear him through her sobbing. He rocked with her back and forth.

‘Shh baby it's okay. ‘ he whispered to her. ‘It’s okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I promise I didn’t.’

He peppered kisses all over her neck. His shirt was soaked with all the tears but he didn’t care, he was holding onto someone who loved him and she loved him right back. Delia managed to catch her breathe for a moment.

‘I’m sorry Sam, I’m sorry I fucked everything up for us. I’m-‘ he interrupted her.

‘Hey, you didn’t fuck anything up okay. Hell, if anything was fucked up it was because of me, I was being selfish. I wasn’t thinking about you and how you felt I was thinking of myself and I’m sorry. I love you Delia. I love you more than anything in this world. You are all that I have and I appreciate you sticking with me, I really do. I am always going to love you okay. Now I brought you out here to have a nice day with my favorite woman and to-‘

She kissed him. He was all that she wanted right now in this moment and that’s what she had. She was never going to love anyone the way that she loved Sam.

‘I love you Sam.’

‘Love you too baby’.

Drops of blood began to drip down onto the picture. She touched eyes and found them wet. She looked down to her fingertips and saw the same red that was dripping on her hand held memory. This photo reminded her of a promise she made to herself, a promise that she made to Sam and now, many years later she realized that she had broken that promise the moment she had a choice. The choice was to go back home Bon Temps and seek help from her family, from Sam or to stay away.

Her eyes began to pour down blood. That feeling came back to her. That feeling she had they day she went to the clinic pregnant and left pregnant free. That feeling she had that day on the lake when Sam dug up the guilt she had. The feeling that the world would be better off without her and that Sam would be better off without her. She set the photo on top of the night stand next to her bottle of True Blood which was now only a little warm. She walked into the bathroom. It was vacant of everything. Everything in it was stark white; the sink, the toilet, the walls, the floor. The blood seemed so red, so fake once it dripped onto the white tile.

She looked at the mirror. Her cheeks seemed like they had a blush on her chestnut skin but, it was only the blood stains she got when she cries.

‘He deserves more than this, he deserves more than you.’ She said to herself in the mirror.

Wanting to kill herself was nothing new. She wanted to do it the night she was turned but, that only makes her a coward. She looked at herself in the mirror once more. She was dirty, hungry, and she smelled so bad that she was beginning to be repulsed by her scent. She turned to the shower and turned on the hot water. She had always been that way. She had always liked her showers and baths hot. She checked to see it was hot enough it burned her hand but it healed in an instant.

She took off her rancid clothes and stepped into the shower. She let out a wailing sound of pain from the hot water. It kept burning and burning her skin but her skin just kept regenerating. She wanted to be numb to it. Numb to the pain, the hurt, to everything. Blood kept falling from her eyes and onto the bottom of shower, only this time the water made them more pink. All she could do was cry now how hard she tried to stop, all she just wanted to do was cry. She crouched down and curled her knees toward her chest and rested her head against the shower wall and let the blood stream down her face.

#sam merlotte imagine #true blood imagine #true blood #sam merlotte x reader #black reader #eric northman

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theclanscript · 6 years

Text

the five keys to im changkyun

⋈ pairing: changkyun x reader ⋈ word count: 4,361 ⋈ genre: fluff/mild angst ⋈ notes: happy birthday, changkyun. i love you endlessly ♥

1. He has a strict No Bullshit Policy

Im Changkyun was intimidating.

Or distracted. You weren’t sure. He was staring directly at you, his dark eyes piercing into yours, but you couldn’t tell if he was looking right through you or straight into you. He didn’t smile much, hadn’t really all night except for when you had walked into the restaurant and he had waved from where he was waiting for you. You figured this wasn’t a good sign for a first date, but right now you felt like you knew nothing, neither about dating nor about Changkyun.

The date had been set up by mutual friends, so of course you knew the basic details – age, occupation, the fact that he had spent some of his life abroad. You knew his name, obviously, and that, according to your friends, he was hardworking, funny, and nice enough (their words, not yours).

Now you could put not very talkative onto the list.

He asked short but pointed questions, somehow getting you to talk about yourself and your life nonstop without even realizing it. You had told him everything about your school, your job, your hobbies, your family’s dog. Except for the dog and your preference for dark and eerie stories nothing seemed to have piqued his interest. Meanwhile, you felt like you were forgetting if his name was Changkyun or Changkyeon because of how little he was revealing about himself.

You glanced at your watch. Only twenty minutes had passed since you had arrived and it seemed like you were already running out of first-date-topics. You also realized that a movie about your life would most likely be a rather short film.

“I’m sorry, are you in a rush?”

Your head snapped up and your eyes met Changkyun’s unchanged stoic gaze. You felt yourself blushing.

“N-no. It just seems like I’m the only one talking and I felt a little bad.”

“Don’t.” The corner of Changkyun’s mouth twitched. “I’m just trying to get past the surface so we can talk about the important things.”

You blinked, taken aback. Too confused to feel your own nervousness anymore, you sat back in your chair, crossing your arms, and stared at him.

“Care to elaborate?”

“Sure.” Changkyun leaned back the same way you just had but his hands remained on the table between you. “I don’t care about your school or your work.”

“That’s nice,” you snorted sarcastically.

“What I mean is,” he continued, completely undeterred, “of course I want to know what you do, but that’s not what I want to talk about to get to know you. I won’t fall in love with you because of what you do. I want to know who you are.”

“But isn’t what I do part of who I am?” you argued, trying hard to ignore the way your heart had fluttered at his last sentence. Mentally, you were still adding to the list: a little complicated, but cute.

“Interesting.” Changkyun grinned at you. “Please demonstrate.”

“For example, it could tell you that I love books.”

“Most people love books, or will claim that they do.”

“Or what my goals for the future are.”

“But I won’t know if you’ll achieve those goals until that future comes. It doesn’t tell me much about who you are now.”

“It tells you that I have dreams.”

“It tells me that you can afford to dream.”

You were stunned. Not because of the way he obnoxiously shot down every point you made, but because you were starting to see his. A little begrudgingly you added quick-witted and blunt.

“Fine.” You gestured to the waiter to get you another bottle of soju. “Since you want to talk about the important things, how about you start asking the important questions.”

You thought you saw surprise flash across Changkyun’s face before his grin grew wider.

“All in?” he asked and you nodded.

“All in.”

“Okay. What do you think is the worst thing you can do to a person? Aside from obvious things like murder and violence and all that.”

You used the time it took Changkyun to fill both of your glasses to think about your answer. You clinked your glass to his and emptied it in one sip.

“Leaving someone hanging. You know, leaving them wondering.”

Changkyun set his glass down, obviously intrigued. “How do you mean?”

You shrugged and reached for the bottle, smirking when you could hear him chuckle.

“Well played.”

“I mean just disappearing out of someone’s life suddenly,” you explained while pouring another round. “Not gradually, especially if it’s mutual. And not even if it’s someone you’ve only known a couple of weeks or whatever. But when you’re close and the other person is trying to get in touch and you just ignore them, making them wonder if it was them or you or what.” You looked up at him. “Or if you just died.”

Changkyun made a sound somewhere between choking and laughing. “So, ghosting?”

“I guess,” you said, although it felt deeper than that.

“You been ghosted then?” Changkyun lifted his glass and you hit it with yours, hard.

“One too many times, my friend.”

“It’s a wound that doesn’t heal easily,” he agreed and watched you take your shot before drinking himself. You pointed at him with your glass still lodged between your thumb and middle finger.

“Wounds can only heal once you stop bleeding. Hearts can only heal once you stop wondering.”

Changkyun looked at you quietly, intently, differently, as if he had lost the ability to look past the barrier right behind your eyes. As if just five minutes ago he had thought that a map of you had been lying in front of him for him to study freely, but with just a few words from the deepest, darkest corner of your soul, the map had been set aflame and now all he could do was stare at the ashes.

“Did you learn that in school or at your job?” he asked challengingly once he had recovered from the shock of breaking through the surface.

“I already took your point so stop mocking me,” you replied, maybe a little harsher than you had intended. Changkyun nodded softly and leaned forward, his hands moving as well, moving closer to yours. Somehow this made you nervous again, made you feel like he was closing in on you, made you realize that no version of you – the versions you were around friends, family, employers, classmates – would be able to make it through this date. Changkyun required a new version, a rawer, more straightforward, more vulnerable version of you. There was no room for white lies and shallow emotions, no space for anything that wasn’t completely and unadulteratedly you.

You poured both of you another drink.

“So, how’s your heart been recently?” you asked and Changkyun seemed oddly pleased at your invasive question. He clinked his glass to yours and twenty minutes turned into one hour, and then two, and before you knew it night turned into day and the bright sunlight stung in your eyes as you and Changkyun exited the restaurant. He put his jacket around your shoulders as he searched the empty streets for a taxi to send you home in.

Well-mannered. Kind. Interesting.

“I really want to see you again,” he suddenly said and turned to you. “Can I call you?”

“Please do,” you smiled, pulling his jacket tighter around your body. The stench from the smoky restaurant mixed with his cologne and somehow you couldn’t think of a more comforting smell in the crisp morning air. Changkyun was still looking at you, his eyes devoid of all mocking and mischief.

“You’re a fascinating person.”

You gave a hollow laugh. “You’re probably the first person to think that.”

He stepped even closer. “It’s their loss for not getting to know who. you. are.” He emphasized every one of the last three words with a light touch of his index finger to your forehead. Then, his fingertips slowly wandered down the side of your face until his palm rested on your cheek, firm and warm. You could feel his hot breath on your face and his gaze still desperate to explore every corner of you, inside and out. You fell into him without hesitation, closing your eyes when his other arm readily caught you and held you close to him.

Honest. Caring. Broken.

A damn good kisser.

2. You will discover many unexpected sides to him

“Babe?” Changkyun dropped his backpack in the hallway and kicked off his shoes. He listened into the apartment, and when there was no reply he tried again. “Baby?”

He let out a quiet hmph before thinking to check his phone for messages.

Stopped to get groceries on the way back, be there soon!

A sudden giddiness overcame Changkyun. He was alone. In your apartment. For the first time. It had only been about three months since you had started dating (117 days since he had kissed you on your first date – an app on his phone kept count of all your firsts, even though he would rather die than show you), and only two weeks since you had presented him with the code to your home. Just in case. You hadn’t specified what that case might be. Just in case you were running late, like today? Just in case he suddenly got the urge to see you in the middle of the night and didn’t want to ring you out of bed?

Just in case he was going to move in in the future?

Changkyun walked into the empty kitchen to get a glass of water, then he walked into the empty bedroom to get a change of clothes from the part of the closet you had cleared for him. He already was very comfortable in your apartment – it looked like you, smelled like you, felt like you. It put him at ease, made him feel safe, made him feel at home.

Everything about you did.

He shed himself of his clothes in the bedroom, leaving them in the hamper next to your closet. Then, he walked naked into the bathroom – a habit he had considered leaving at the dorm but so far you hadn’t complained. It did, however, tend to interfere with him – and you – going about your respective business way more often than it did at the dorm.

Changkyun put the change of clothes on the toilet seat and turned to the shower. He fleetingly remembered that you had had some issue with the hot water and briefly considered calling you to ask if it had been fixed. But then he noticed that he had left his phone in the bedroom and laziness took over – he would find out soon enough.

You walked into the door just as the blood-curdling scream echoed through all parts of Seoul south of the river. A little panicked, you dropped your bags and barely managed to get your boots off of your feet before stumbling into the hallway to start looking for its origin.

“Changkyun?” you called out, instinctively heading toward the bathroom. The door was unlocked so you just barged in, finding him standing on your bath mat looking like a drowned rat. He was trying to wrap himself into a towel and it only took one second for you to realize what had happened.

“Cold water?” you asked and he gritted his teeth at you.

“Freezing water.”

You opened your mouth to tease him a little, but a violent knock on the door stopped you. Giving Changkyun one last amused look, you trotted back to the entrance and opened the door to an alarmed lady who lived two doors down.

“Is everything okay?” she asked breathlessly. “I heard a woman scream.”

The corners of your mouth rose slowly as you processed the words.

“Yes, I apologize,” you replied, already dying to tell Changkyun about the exchange. “That was just my boyfriend. He forgot about the water.”

“Your boy-“ the lady started but then cleared her throat. “The water, yes. Yes.”

You watched her shuffle back toward her own apartment and closed the door. Changkyun was standing a few feet behind you, dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants, idly toweling his hair dry. From the look on his face you could tell that he had heard every word.

“Don’t you dare,” he growled. You laughed lightly, walked over to him, and kissed his ice-cold lips.

“Come on, lady screams,” you giggled and ushered him toward the kitchen. “I’ll make us a nice, hot stew.”

3. He will never let you see him cry

It was past 2 am when the unrelenting vibrations of your phone tore you from a deep sleep. Behind you was a late shift at work that had kept you from your bed until well after midnight, ahead of you an 8 am lecture. And in between those two things was Kihyun’s name stubbornly claiming its place on your display. With a groan you accepted the call and put the phone to your ear.

“Someone better be dead.”

There was a short pause. “No.”

He sounded tired and solemn, and you sighed. He probably hadn’t even picked up on the fact that you were joking.

“What’s up?”

“It’s Changkyun.”

You sat up straight in your bed. Suddenly you were wide awake, your heart beating in your throat.

“What happened?”

You could almost hear the shrug through the line. “You know how he gets. I think he got some bad news from home. He just up and left without a word.”

“Did you try calling him?”

“Yes. His phone’s off.”

You were halfway out of bed. “I’m gonna go look for him.”

“And where are you going to start?” Kihyun countered, his voice strained with worry and exhaustion. You sank back against your pillow.

“Then why did you call me, Kihyun?”

“I- I don’t know,” he stuttered. “I just thought you should know. You’re his – you know.”

“His special friend?”

“Well, yeah, that too,” his voice reflected the soft, amused smile playing on his lips, “But more importantly, you get him. Also, it’s nice to know someone worries about him as much as I do.”

You chuckled. “I could never love him the way you guys do.”

“Shut up.”

There was another short pause. You could feel the pain spreading in your chest, the pain of not knowing, the pain of doubting yourself, the pain of love. Sometimes you still felt like Changkyun wasn’t opening up all the way, like he kept part of himself hidden. And you were afraid that it was because of you, that you were lacking in a way that made him shut you out. You weren’t naïve enough to think that you could ever truly and completely know someone. But you also knew that certain things that people tried to keep hidden for whatever reasons had a tendency to descend on a relationship with a vengeance – it was only a matter of time.

“Are you still there?”

“Yeah.” You swallowed hard. “Please let me know as soon as-“

You looked up when the bedroom door opened. Your heartbeat fastened for a second before you registered the thin, shadowy figure that had just slipped into the room was none other than your not-so-long-lost boyfriend.

“Kihyun,” you said in a low voice, “we’re okay.”

“Okay,” came Kihyun’s brief answer before he hung up the phone. You placed your own device on the nightstand and silently watched as Changkyun took off his sweater and jeans. Without a word, he crawled into bed next to you and pulled the covers over both of your bodies. Then, he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in your chest, his breath warm against your skin through the cotton of your shirt.

“Changkyun?” you whispered eventually but only got a shake of the head in response. Knowing better than to push him, you found a comfortable position and draped one arm around his back while the hand of the other arm found his soft hair. You stroked his head gently, the utter silence in your bedroom only interrupted by occasional yawns and ragged sighs.

After a few minutes, you could feel the fabric underneath Changkyun’s face getting damp, his hot tears burning their way through your chest, drowning your heart. You held on to him tighter so he could feel you, so he knew you were there, knew that you knew. Knew that you would give anything to be able to absorb his feelings and lock them away in your own body so they could never torture him again.

You knew he would do the same for you.

“Changkyun?” you breathed, locks of his hair curled around your fingertips. “Can you look at me?”

“No. Not yet,” he replied, his deep voice muffled by your shirt and his restraint.

“Okay,” you said, and you truly felt like it was. There were things Changkyun was still keeping from you, for reasons beyond your understanding. But they were becoming fewer and fewer with every passing week, every passing day, every passing moment. There was still so much to learn about Im Changkyun and that was okay.

You had time.

4. His love language needs no words

Words sometimes did not come easy for Changkyun. Lyrics flowed out of him like a mountain spring, as did the strings of curse words when he was losing to Minhyuk in some game or other. But there were things that he just could not say easily, or rather, they sounded empty in his ears and tasted stale on his tongue. He never said things like your hair looks nice or that is a pretty shirt. When he did use words, they were the kind that took you by surprise and shook you to the core. They were accompanied by passionate looks and, more often than not, painfully intimate gestures regardless of your surroundings. Changkyun knew how to make you dizzy with only a few words and a hand too low on your hip and his lips too close to your ear. You were aware that he usually did this to tease you, rile you up in public so he could take you home as soon as possible and let his body show you all the ways he appreciated you.

Changkyun was oh so good at expressing himself without words.

The way he kissed your cheek as a silent thank you or how he pulled you into a tight embrace when you came through the front door with a weary look on your face and slouching shoulders; welcome home, baby. You did great today.

When you helped him clean his studio, he would mumble an almost inaudible be right back, only to come back fifteen minutes later with take-out food and your favorite from the coffee shop around the corner. And although he claimed that he did not care for birthdays and their tacit requirements, he often came back from tour – or just from a trip to the store – with a book he knew you had been looking for, or a piece of jewelry with your birthstone, or simply your favorite candy from every country he regularly visited.

All of those things were small testaments to his feelings, sweet reminders that he cared and thought about you wherever he went. And you appreciated this, much more so than grand but artificial gestures whose impact was ultimately just as short-lived as the flowers that usually accompanied them. Changkyun’s style may have been a bit more muted and practical, but it was real, it was true, it was him.

And that was all you ever wanted.

“What’s wrong?” you asked when you noticed him staring at you from the other side of the sofa. You were both curled up underneath the same blanket watching a movie. He had just returned from Thailand early that morning and you had spent the entire day in bed, catching up on sleep and catching up on love. Now you were both in a weird state of exhaustion and relaxation, and neither of you was paying all that much attention to the TV, but that was okay because you were together.

“Nothing.” Changkyun sat up abruptly and less than a second later he was hovering above you, looking down at you with all the yearning, all the craving of the past few weeks. You smiled up at him and ran a hand through his hair.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Changkyun chuckled and locked you into a tight hug, his weight pressing you into the soft cushions. You sighed contentedly and wrapped your arms around him, feeling his heart beat against your chest. He pressed his lips to the skin of your neck.

“I missed you,” you whispered against his shoulder.

“I love you,” he replied, his mouth finding yours.

You melted into the kiss, and even though they were nice to hear, Changkyun really did not need words to tell you how much he loved you.

5. He will need you to never give up on him

Changkyun would never tell you, but his strategy for first dates had failed one or two (or maybe three) times before he had met you. The girls had been put off by his bluntness, his roughness, his prying questions and prying eyes. He wasn’t one to play in shallow waters, he wanted to dive deep and never come back up for air. And then you had come into his life.

And he had gladly drowned in you.

Changkyun never told you outright, but you were his anchor, his beacon in the night, the one to keep the demons at bay.

At least most of the time.

There had been occasions when he had neglected to text and call you on tour, when he had missed dates and other engagements because his head was stuck in his music and his body in his studio. There had been forgotten birthdays and broken promises, and more times when he had withdrawn into himself than he was proud of. He had seen the hurt in your eyes when he had shut you out, had heard the doubts in your voice when you had asked him questions he was not going to give you any answers to – was unable to give you answers to. He knew he worried you when he wandered around the apartment at ungodly hours or stayed out without calling.

He knew he had ruined quite a few of your days, and even more of your nights.

Changkyun knew how people felt about him. That his thoughts were bent out of shape, crooked, impossible to understand – many had told him as much in an attempt to fix him. But you had never tried to straighten them out; instead you had given them new names: unique, captivating, beautiful.

And for that he loved you. Would always love you. Had always loved you.

Even if it hadn’t seemed like it sometimes.

Even now, years after your first meeting in that small restaurant, Changkyun thought you were the most fascinating person he had ever met. Every day with you still felt like an incredible adventure; he was still exploring you, charting you, putting the specks of ashes back together one by one, and he loved every minute of it. He could spend hours trying to figure out why – despite all the pain he caused you, despite all the things he had done wrong – you were still with him.

And then he would spend even more time being petrified by the thought of you leaving.

He knew that his heart would never stop wondering.

Maybe the reason why the thought scared him so profoundly was because he knew that if he lost you once, he would not deserve a second chance. You were so much kinder and smarter, so much more wonderful than even you realized.

Changkyun pitied anyone who didn’t take the time to get to know who you were beyond your school and your job and all the things anyone with eyes could see. At the same time, he loved that he was the only one who knew you. He had witnessed all the versions of you, but the one you were with him was his favorite – raw and vulnerable and his.

Yet, the fear of losing you was haunting him way past the boundaries of the waking hours. Every so often, you would wake up to him mumbling your name in his sleep, tossing and turning in the confinements of a distressing dream. He would only settle down when your hand closed around his arm, your mouth close to his ear.

“I’m here, Changkyun,” you would whisper, gently, knowingly. “It’s okay, babe. I’m here.”

You smiled down at him when his head lulled to the side and his body followed to face you. At first the dreams had worried you, but soon you had realized that it was just another window into the soul of Im Changkyun. It pained you to know that he even had thoughts of losing you, and that they tormented him as much as they did. But it was nothing you couldn’t overcome, nothing to worry about. Things weren’t always easy with Changkyun, but you wouldn’t change a thing.

You loved Changkyun for everything he was and everything he wasn’t, and you loved him for the way he loved you, loved you for who you were, truly and completely. His fears didn’t trouble you; after all, all you had to do was stay by his side and show him how perfect and precious he was to you.

You looked down at the engagement ring on your finger; the thin silver band with your birthstone and the date of your first date engraved in it.

The day I started to fall in love with you.

And I haven’t stopped since.

You lay back down and marveled at his sleeping face. He looked so peaceful now, anchored by your presence, his demons out of sight, out of mind.

Yes, you were going to be okay.

You had time. You had love.

And you had Changkyun.

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disasterdeacy · 5 years

Text

Taking Care of Business

A/N: this isn’t the best thing I’ve ever written, but it’s a THING, so ENJOY! This is loosely based on a request I received from @toomuchlove-willkillyou who requested bondage with Sub!Bri.. I hope you like it doll!! Pairing: Present Day!Brian May x Young!Reader Word Count: 1.7k (not too bad but still short in my mind Summary: Brian misbehaves during dinner, forcing Y/N’s hand once they arrive home.. Warnings: pwop, 18+, age gap, sub!bri, hints of mommy kink, could be read w NIMWD and SDOD, lube is important, plz use lotion after bondage plz think of the skin

You couldn't believe the sheer level of excitement coursing through your body as you gazed down at the mess Brian had made on himself. His cock was still twitching, cum leaking from the slit at the tip of his blood red head. White hot cum covered his belly and chest, sticking to the fine hairs that lined his body, just tempting you to lick it up, to not waste a single drop of the delicious liquid..

But, you couldn't, you had to be strong, had to show him that you were in charge, that his actions had consequences, that he just couldn't trail those gorgeously calloused fingers up your thighs in the middle of dinner with Rog and Sarina.. that he couldn't trail those fingers over your naked cunt before the soup course had been served.. he had to learn his lesson.

That's why you were sat between his restrained legs, a bottle of lube and clear fleshlight in your hands, pupils blown with lust as you watch your husband of 4 months bucking against the vibrating prostate stimulator you'd inserted into him almost as soon as you'd gotten home, pressing him against the front door as soon as it'd shut, smirking when you'd felt just how fucking hard he was.

God, you could feel him throbbing through the fabric of his nice black trousers, and you were certain that if he'd not been in black, you would be able to see a rather obvious dark spot right in the front.. He'd begged you for it, for you to punish him, make him scream for you to stop, to make him cum as many times as he could.. so that's exactly what you were working on.

"Oh Bri, you look so fucking gorgeous like this honey.. all tied up and begging for me to make you cum again."

You leaned down, licking a hot stripe along the inside of his thigh, laughing loudly when his hips buck up, his arms straining against the restraints keeping him from touching you.. god, you really hoped he wasn't going to have bruises the next day.. that would be difficult to explain to people.

"P-please Y/N! I-I don't think I can take anymore.. I-I'm s-so sensitive."

Oh and he was, his cock was absolutely throbbing, even after the earth shattering orgasm that your mouth had just brought him to. But it was perfect for what you had planned for him. Sitting back up, you pour a generous amount of lube into your hands, rubbing them together to warm the liquid.. You wanted him to be punished, but you weren't a fucking sadist.

“Shut your mouth pretty boy, and let mommy take care of your quivering little cock.. it's honestly pathetic how hard you are for me right now, just leaking all over yourself, making a mess.. if it wasn't for how fucking hot you look underneath me right now, I'd just leave you here all night."

You quickly wrap your lubed up hands to his cock, squeezing tightly around him, moaning just a bit when Brian almost comes of the bed, the head and footboard groaning in protest against the force of his jerking against the restraints.

"No sir! You calm your ass down right not or I won't touch you for a week.."

It was just a thinly veiled threat, you knew that you couldn't stay away from him for more than 3 hours, much less 1 week.. but, it did the trick and Brian merely whimpered loudly, settling back down, his white curls frizzy against the robins egg blue sheets. He looked like a goddamn angel, and you get like a succubus, your only purpose for existing to make the man underneath you fall into a world of pleasure and pain.

Continuing your ministrations on his cock with one hand, you reach over and grab the clear fleshlight, a personal favorite of yours to use on Bri.

He had said that it felt as close to your cunt as he could get, that it clenched him like a vice and could make him cum all over himself in less than 2 minutes.. something you wanted to test right now. Releasing his cock, you lean over him completely, pressing a sweet reassuring kiss to his lips, nuzzling his nose just a little.

The two of you could be rough, but you always made sure to comfort the other, to let them know that you loved them and would take care of them. Brian kisses you back just as gently, sighing into the action, just so grateful for you, to have you make him feel good physically and emotionally. His lips are still attached to yours when he feels you slip the fleshlight over his sensitive cock, his mouth opening wide in shock and a mixture of pain and pleasure.

"F-fuck! Y-Y/N! S-so.. fuck!"

You smirk against his lips, twisting your wrist to enhance the friction against his cock, the fleshlight moving along with you, twisting against his cock. His face was screwed up in pain, his poor cock was already so raw and sensitive, but he loved it, he loved how good it hurt. Loved how you knew just how to fuck him to make him a quivering mess.. and you didn't even have to use any part of your body to make it happen. You just had that level of power over him...

"Have you learned your lesson baby? Are you gonna be a naughty little boy anymore? Gonna try and finger mommy under the table of a goddamn Michelin Star restaurant anymore baby boy?"

Your lips were now sucking marks onto his neck, teeth scraping the sensitive skin as your hand sped up to almost lightning fast speeds, the fleshlight making purely obscene noises as you fucked him relentlessly, twisting your hand as you pulled upwards on him. The whimpers and moans coming from his mouth were enough to make your mouth water, and you knew that he was close.

"M-mummy.. p-please! It hurts so good mummy, I-I'm sorry I wa-was so naughty tonight.. I-I won't d-do it again! I promise! P-please!"

You could feel his pulse racing under your tongue, his heart almost beating out of his chest when you move your free hand up to his chest, taking his left nipple in between your index finger and thumb, squeezing down on the sensitive little bud just as his cock explodes, cum coating your hand as he screams. You're desperately thankful that you don't have any neighbors, that you aren't living in that little flat that he'd moved in with you in when he and Anita divorced.. here, he could be as loud as he wanted, and you loved it.

"That's it baby boy, just let go, let it out honey."

Your lips were now pressing soft and gentle kisses to his neck, up his jaw, and onto his cheeks, kissing away the tears that had fallen form his eyes. His whole body was shaking as you lifted the flesh light off of him, gently cradling his softening cock in your hands before lying it down on on his belly. He'd made an even bigger mess than before, so after placing a single kiss to his forehead, your scurry off the bed and into the en-suite bathroom, wetting a rag with warm water before returning to clean your husband up.

He was still tied to the bed as you cleaned him, humming a soft song to him as you did so, taking extra care to be gentle with his cock.. god, it was so red and raw, you almost felt bad.. but then you remembered how much he enjoyed it, how much happiness and pleasure he got from you doing this to him, and you didn't feel so bad anymore.

"You did so good tonight Bri.. I'm so proud of you for being so sweet and listening to me."

You've just finished cleaning him up when you speak, depositing the rag in the hamper in the corner before coming back to untie him, starting with his quaking legs before gently undoing the restraints that held his arms, smiling sweetly when he legs out a sigh of relief, a smile playing on his on features. You smile back down at him, placing a kiss to his lips as you rub lotion on the raw skin of his wrists, not wanting to cause him anymore pain than you already have.

"I'm sorry I was so bad at dinner tonight love... I just.."

He's sheepish, his head ducking into the pillows beside him as you crawl into the bed, your arms going around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you. You chuckle a little at his unfinished sentence, knowing exactly why he had been so bad.

"You wants me to punish you didn't you baby?"

He doesn't respond right away, just buries his face into your neck, his white curls tickling your neck and chin, causing you to laugh.

"It's okay pretty boy, you don't have to be embarrassed about it.. if you want me to punish you, all you have to do is ask.. not shove your fingers up my dress in the middle of dinner.."

You're teasing him, your fingers dancing over his sides as he legs out a breathy laugh, wrapping himself into you tighter.

"I know love, I just wanted to be really REALLY bad for you.. I know how much you like it when I squirm."

He places a kiss to your décolletage, sleep starting to wash over him, a yawn taking over. His cock was absolutely rubbed raw and he could barely think straight, he needed sleep almost as badly as he needed you to help him fall asleep. Sensing his sleepiness, you place a little kiss to his hair, running your fingers through his iconic curls before you settle in yourself, turning off the lamp beside you before lying on your back, allowing Brian to curl into your side completely, his face pressed firmly into your breasts.

He was dead asleep before you could even bring the covers over you, soft snores falling from his parted lips.

"Get some rest baby.. I love you."

Despite his state of consciousness, he somehow manages to moan out what sounds like an 'I love you too', before returning to his snores.

Tags: @meddows-taylors @goodoldfashioned-rogerboy @leah-halliwell92 @stephydearestxo @unofficialbillnye @glasgowkisschelseasmile @brianmayoucease @im-just-a-musical-prostitute @danamaleksworld

#brian may #brian may x reader #present day brian may x reader #current day brian may x reader #2019 brian may x reader #2019 brian may #queen #queen x reader #brian may x you #brian may imagine #queen imagine #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagine #my writing

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thinkaboutdobrik · 5 years

Text

Under The Stars -> Colby Brock

Plot: A hot summer night where you and Colby can’t sleep, so you decide to make the best out of it.

Request: Um idk about you but what if it was a hot summer night and you were sleeping with Colby (in the trap house ofc) but it was so hot your both almost completely naked and it’s just so intimate and your bodies are touching each other but not sexual ya know?

A/n: guys, this turned out hella cute. idk i just went with it and now i want colby okay. im v proud of this one okay so if you dont like it then fight me

Notes: very fluffy, this is in the trap house

“There’s no way in hell we’re gonna sleep tonight.” you whined from the couch as you fanned your face with your hand. “We’re literally in hell right now.”

Kat and Devyn nodded in agreement from the other side of the room, fanning their faces as well, while Corey went into the kitchen to get some water bottles from the fridge to everbody.

“Don’t be such a downer, y/n! I think we should all appreciate the heat and how blessed we are for living in a place where we have water, and stop complaining over it.” Jake said just to annoy you.

You rolled your eyes at Jake’s stupid joke and threw a pillow in his face. “Shut up, Jake.” you laughed.

Colby entered the room and stretched out his hand for you to grab it, motioning for the two of you to head to bed. Everyone else were yawning in synch and just about to pass out on the couch as well, so everybody were headed to bed.

You pouted as you looked up at Colby standing in front of you with his arm stretched out. He gave you a confused smile and chuckled.

“Can you carry me? I’m too hot to move...”

Colby laughed and jokingly rolled his eyes at you before picking you up bridal style. He carried you to his bedroom and shut the door behind him, before putting you down on the bed and climbing in next to you.

The whole night you kept tossing and turning. The heat was horrible and it was bothering you, and everybody else, a lot, making it nearly impossible to fall asleep. The big covers covering both you and Colby didn’t help either. Opening the window didn’t help either. And Colby’s little fan? Nope.

“Colby. Wake up.” you whispered and lightly pushed Colby with your foot.

Colby groaned. Colby had already fallen asleep way before you and didn’t seem to care about the heat at all which you found odd. If you weren’t able to sleep, neither was him, and you were going to make that very clear.

“Wake up!” you said a little louder and turned on your side, tossing an arm over Colby as you shook his body.

“What?!” he asked and gave you an annoyed look with his tired eyes.

You sighed and pouted looking into his ocean blue eyes. “I can’t sleep, Colb. It’s too hot..” you whined.

“Just take your clothes off.” Colby suggested and turned his head the other way, going back to sleep.

You groaned at his reaction and did as he suggested, leaving you only in your underwear right next to him. After taking off your clothes you cuddled up next to Colby. The covers were only at your feet and halfway draping down on the ground. Wrapping your arm around Colby you scooted closer to him and got comfortable.

“You really think that’s gonna work?” Colby mumbled into his pillow.

“Hmm?” you asked and raised your head to look over Colby’s shoulder.

Colby turned around in the bed, lying on his side to face you. “You think cuddling up next to me is gonna make you less hot?” he laughed.

You ran your hands down your face as you sighed before giving Colby an annoyed look. “Well, fuck, what do you suggest then?! I’m soooo hot, Colby. If I have to sleep outside I’m gonna do it.”

Unlocking his phone, Colby checked the time before thinking to himself for a split second. He looked at you and smirked. “That might not be a bad idea.”

You raised your eyebrows and looked at him in confusion.

“It’ll be fun! Let’s sleep outside!” Colby cheered and hurried out of bed, dragging you along with him.

You grabbed some pillows and the covers and walked down stairs, stepping out to the back yard before tossing everything down on the ground.

The second trip back to Colby's room you grabbed your phones and whatever else you needed, whilst Colby found some unused blow up mattresses in the garage.

After blowing up the mattresses and putting everything down, you and Colby crashed down onto the bed.

There were no clouds in the sky, just beautiful and sparkly stars above you. The light breeze hitting your skin felt nice as you laid next to Colby whilst he ran a finger up an down your arm, tracing the vain that went from the inside of your wrist to the inside of your elbow.

You and Colby spent the majority of the night laughing and talking about anything and everything. Just being alone with him felt special, and the fact that you were directly under the stars made everything feel magical.

"This is nice." Colby whispered as his gaze was glued to the sky above him.

You turned around in your spot, lying on your side as you looked at him with a quizzical expression.

"I mean this." he continued, moving his hand back and forth between the two of you. "Us. I like us and I'm glad I have you in my life."

You smiled at his words and felt your heart almost skipping a beat. His words always warmed your heart and he always made you happy. You cared alot for Colby, and him for you, and just lying underneath the stars with Colby on a hot summer night was magical and you enjoyed being in his presence.

"I like us too." you smiled and scooted closer to Colby, resting your head on his chest and intertwined your fingers with his.

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock imagines #colby brock fluff #colby brock blurb #colby brock headcanon #jake webber #trap house #sam golbach #corey scherer #aaron doh

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gratsustingue-the-ot4 · 5 years

Link

Sting's anxiety pushes everyone away when he needs them most.

Author: @splendidlyimperfect Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Pairings: Natsu/Gray/Sting/Rogue Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Polyamory, Established Relationship, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Medication, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, they're just really soft with each other, sweet boyfriends, Tumblr: FTLGBTales Series: Part 33 of i'm with them

**tw for anxiety/panic attack

“Babe, we can find it later.”

Natsu stood at the front door, frowning at Sting, who was pacing back and forth in the kitchen, opening random drawers and slamming them shut again. Sting ran his hands through his hair, groaning.

“I left it here, I know I did,” Sting said. “Maybe Rogue moved it.” He tapped his fingers against the counter, then moved over to the area where they kept their phone chargers and started rummaging through it again.

“I have my wallet,” Natsu said gently, stepping forward into the kitchen and reaching out for Sting’s arm. “We can look more when we get back, but we gotta get going – we told Dad we’d be there at two.” He glanced at the clock, which read 1:37.

Sting shook his head, pushing Natsu’s arm away. “It’s not – I just...” He tried to take a deep breath, but his chest felt tight. “It was here,” he insisted.

“You don’t need it,” Natsu reassured, trying again to reach out to Sting.

Sting pulled his arm away from Natsu again, stepping backward into the kitchen. There was a soft mrowl, and Sting cursed as he tripped backward over Lector and slammed his hip into the counter.

Continue reading on AO3

“Fucking son of a bitch,” he shouted, feeling a wave of guilt as Lector leapt away from him and darted toward the bedroom. Sting bunched his hands into fists, digging his fingernails into his palms and closing his eyes. “Sorry,” he said, trying to ignore the stinging pain on his hip that was definitely going to bruise.

“It’s okay,” Natsu said gently, staying where he was. “What’s going on?” Sting had been grumpy and on edge since Sunday, withdrawing from the other three and keeping to himself.

Sting shook his head. The tag from his shirt rubbed against the back of his neck and he resisted the urge to tug it off. Frosch was yowling from the bedroom and Sting wanted to slam the door.

“Do you wanna stay home?” Natsu asked. Sting wanted to shake his head, wanted to go for lunch with Natsu and Silver and forget the wallet, and the stomachache, and the low, thrumming anger under his skin. Instead he nodded, crossing his arms over his stomach and trying not to cry. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No.” Sting stared at the ground, at the hole in his socks – goddamnit, these were his favorite ones. He ground his teeth and closed his eyes. “Just... tell Dad I’m sorry.”

“Why don’t I reschedule with him?” Natsu’s voice was gentle, and for some reason it irked Sting. “I don’t think you should be by yourself.”

“I’m not a child,” Sting snapped, scratching at his wrist. The guilt in his chest was overruled by irritation and he glared down at the counter. “I’ll be fine.” Natsu hesitated and Sting’s voice turned sharper. “Just go.”

Natsu sighed, and Sting could tell he was trying hard not to move in for a hug.

“Okay,” Natsu said eventually. “I’ll leave my ringer on, call me if you need me, okay?” Sting nodded, biting his lip and biting back an irritated, I don’t need anything, go away. “I love you,” Natsu added.

“Love you too,” Sting said softly, listening to Natsu’s footsteps recede. As soon as the door clicked closed, Sting let out a shaky breath and leaned forward against the counter. His eyes were immediately drawn to the pile of dishes stacked next to the sink and he felt irritation flare up again.

He grabbed a few of the plates, opening the dishwasher and groaning when he realized it was clean. Tears pressed against his eyes again and he tossed the plates back on the counter, stalking away from the kitchen and into the bedroom. As soon as he walked into the room, he turned around again, grabbing his phone from the coffee table and curling up on the couch.

I’m sorry. He typed out the text under Natsu’s name, then deleted it and switched to his conversation with Rogue and wrote, I need you. Instead of hitting ‘send,’ he tipped his head back, angry tears filling his eyes as he threw his phone to the other end of the couch.

“Fuck,” he whispered, running his hands over his face. Happy jumped up on the couch and tried to climb onto Sting’s lap, and he growled, pushing Happy away. “Don’t... just...”

Sting curled in on himself and started crying in earnest, burying his face in his arms. His shoulders shook as he choked out a sob, pulling his knees tight against his chest. Everything was too much and not enough, and his skin was too tight, and suddenly he was too hot, sweating through his thin t-shirt.

His phone went off a few times, but he kicked it away from him as each buzz pushed him closer and closer to screaming.

Come back, Sting thought as he cried. I’m sorry, I need you.

~*~*~

The text from Natsu had been simple – im worried about sting, hes not good but he didnt want me there – but it had been enough for Gray to leave work early and immediately head home.

When Gray opened the front door, he could hear the shower running. He kicked off his shoes and headed for the bathroom, where he found Sting sitting on the floor next to the shower, shoulders shaking as he cried. His arms were red where he’d been scratching at them, and his forehead was pressed against his knees.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Gray said softly, crouching down next to Sting. “C’mere.” He touched Sting’s arm and when Sting didn’t pull away, Gray sat down next to him, pulling Sting into a sideways embrace.

“I’m s-sorry,” Sting said, his breath coming in short, sharp pants. “I didn’t... it’s just...”

“Shhh,” Gray said, brushing Sting’s sweaty hair away from his face. “Breathe with me, okay?” He took Sting’s hand and placed it on his own chest, then took a deep, slow breath, waiting for Sting to copy him before exhaling. “There you go. You’re okay.”

“I’m n-not, I don’t... I’m sorry, I was a j-jerk to N-natsu, I didn’t mean to...”

“I know,” Gray said, taking another deep breath. Sting shook his head, chest rising and falling erratically. “Nobody’s upset with you. Can you take another deep breath for me?”

“N-no,” Sting gasped, tightening his arms around his knees. “I c-can't, I can’t, I can’t...”

“Okay, it’s okay if you can’t,” Gray said quickly, running his hand up and down Sting’s back, but stopping when Sting pulled away. “I’m gonna get your meds, okay?”

Sting didn’t respond as Gray stood up, moving over to the medicine cabinet and grabbing a prescription bottle. He tipped one of the pills into his hand, then sat back down next to Sting, holding it out. Sting took it with a shaky hand, popping it under his tongue and then closing his eyes again, pressing his forehead to his knees.

“Do you wanna take a shower?” Gray asked. Sting shook his head, then changed his mind and nodded, sniffing and wiping his face. “With me or by yourself?”

“W-with you,” Sting said shakily. Gray helped him stand up, pulling him into a hug and kissing his forehead before tugging off his shirt.

As soon as they were under the water, Sting let out a deep breath, leaning against Gray and wrapping his arms around Gray’s waist. Gray started humming softly, grabbing the shampoo and lathering up Sting’s hair.

“Wanna come with me to Halifax next month?” Gray asked, rinsing away the soap and rubbing Sting’s back gently. “Todd’s sending me to a conference so they’ll pay for gas and the hotel. We can go to the beach if you want?”

Sting nodded against Gray’s chest. “Yeah,” he said softly. His breathing was slowly evening out, body relaxing against Gray’s as Gray’s fingers kneaded the knots in his shoulders. “All of us? Or just you and me?”

“Whatever you want,” Gray said. Sting didn’t say anything, just hugged Gray tighter.

~*~*~

An hour later, Rogue and Natsu were home, and Sting was curled up with them on the bed, wearing Natsu’s hoodie and Gray’s sweatpants.

“’m sorry,” Sting said, gaze slightly unfocused as he looked up at Natsu. His head was in Natsu’s lap, and Rogue was lying beside him, running his fingers over Sting’s stomach.

Natsu shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said, brushing Sting’s hair out of his face. “It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“I tol’ you to leave,” Sting said sleepily. “Was a jackass.”

“Yeah, but you’re a cute jackass,” Natsu teased. Rogue snorted, taking Sting’s hand and lacing their fingers together.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, rubbing his thumb over Sting’s knuckles. Sting made a sleepy sound, blinking slowly.

“Drugs’re workin’,” he said softly. “’s all fuzzy.” He yawned, shifting a bit and nuzzling Rogue’s neck. “I don’ like taking them.”

“I know,” Rogue said, kissing Sting’s forehead. “But Gray said you were spiraling pretty bad, I think it was a good thing that you took them.”

Sting nodded, closing his eyes and relaxing into the strange sensation of being not-quite-real that always came with the medication. It was unsettling, but better than the time he’d passed out from hyperventilating.

There was a dip on the bed behind Sting, and a squeeze on his hip. He cracked open an eye and looked up to see Gray, smiling softly at him.

“Thanks,” Sting whispered, reaching out and taking Gray’s hand.

“Always,” Gray said, shifting until he was lying behind Sting. He wrapped his arm around Sting’s waist and placed a gentle kiss on the back of his neck, then murmured, “now go to sleep. We’ve got you – you’re safe.”

#fairy tail #gratsustingue #ot4 #ot4fic #imwiththem #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #sting eucliffe #rogue cheney #emotional hurt/comfort #light angst #with a happy ending #sweet boyfriends #some fluff #splendidlyimperfect

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boneandfur · 6 years

Text

Marry in Haste [6, pt2]

Notes: historical notes are at the end. // Words: 2806 // Catch up: Ch 6 (contains links to other chapters)

CHAPTER SIX, pt 2 :: Song: Scarborough Fair, Amy Nuttall.

The housekeeper unlocked the door with a flourish. I prayed to God it was not too late. "My lady, take James and Alf in with ye," she said with a respectful gleam in her eye.

With James, Alf, and Sinclaire at my side, I dashed into the room just as MacDougal laid his saw to Ned's flesh.

Edmund was pale as a sheet, hand on the bottle of whiskey, agog. "Dita?!"

"Stop!" I screamed, and MacDougal reared back, his face like thunder.

"Get out!" he roared like a bull, and then he turned on me. For such a big man, he moved fast. I darted towards him, grabbing the handle of the saw from his hand, and in my madness, wrested it from his grip. The teeth were brown and rusty with old blood, and I shuddered in disgust. I flung it from me, it went skittering across the floor. “Sairpent!” He grabbed me by the wrist, throwing me to the floor, but I was back on my feet and in his face with an anger I had not known I possessed.

"Get out of my house!" I said in a voice of deadly quiet. "You'll not harm a hair on his head, do you hear me, you wicked old butcher?!"

"I'll no' be ordered about by a woman!" MacDougal bared his teeth, shaking with anger.

"Get out!" I roared, pointing a shaking finger at the door. I whirled on one of our footmen. "James, run and get a boy to fetch the bonesetter, as fast as you can!"

"Yes, my lady!" James dashed from the room.

"My lady!" MacDougal lunged for me, and Sinclaire stepped forward as though to stop him. "I told ye tae stay out o' it! I'll not be told ma business by some slanty-eyed, foreign bitch!"

Edmund was on his feet before Sinclaire could move, and his fist hit the doctor square in the mouth. "You forget your place!" he roared, breathing in sharp, jerky pants. "You'll not lay hands on a peeress of the realm, sir! Now get out before we call Bow Street!"

"Mr Greaves!" I shouted, and the butler came into the room at once, he had likely been waiting in the hallway for my summons. He was a big African man, balding, with a kindly smile, but today he had none, his mouth was set as hard as stone as he looked at the surgeon.

"My lady," Greaves said respectfully. "Mr Marlcaster."

"Escort this charlatan from the property!" I ordered in a voice like steel, praying none of them could sense how I shook inside. Ye may murder yer husband here an' now... As if ye'd stabbed a knife intae his heart.

"Unhand me at once! I'll show m'self out!" MacDougal cried. "Jamie, ye wee idiot! Bring ma bag!"

"But sir!" Jamie cried, finding his voice at last. And it squeaked.

"We are no' welcome in this house. I wish good day to you, Madam!" MacDougal thundered at me. As he turned to go, he whispered, in a voice like ice, "Let all who hear me bear witness! I say ye do murder -- an' I'll testify against ye and yer lover at the trial!" Slamming his hat on his head and shoving his bag under his arm, he stormed out, tripping over the person coming up the steps as he shouted for Jamie to call a cab.

When he had gone, I turned to Edmund, and as though he knew how I trembled inside, he took me into his arms and held me for a long, sweet moment. Then he sat back down on the bed, he was sweating and pale. "What have we done, Dita?" he whispered.

"She's saved your life, most likely, Marlcaster," Sinclaire said from the doorway, and I jumped back, feeling guilty for comforting my own husband in front of my lover, though why I should feel such a confusing emotion, I knew not. "I'm not a man for medicine, but that blade would have poisoned your blood and condemned you to a long and lingering death."

Edmund scoffed, but I saw how ill he looked, and my heart squeezed hard. "Always the bearer of good news, aren't you, Sinclaire? I think you would love comforting my widow overmuch, if I should perish."

Sinclaire ground his teeth audibly. “Is that not why you chose me as your second, sir?”

“Oh, you call yourself an honorable man, Sinclaire, but I've seen how you make eyes at my wife as though I were not right in front of you!” Edmund jeered. I placed a hand on his arm, and he pulled me roughly to him, as though he would kiss me, but at the last moment I turned my face away. I saw hurt flash in his eyes, he let go of me, and I put my hand to my lips. I did not want to be a pawn in that game, and yet suddenly I felt bereft, and ached for the kiss I had denied him. “You hope to wear the fair lady's favor and win the race, I suppose. But do you really think it shall be so easy?” he sneered.

“Enough, Ned!” I snapped, hearing the bell ring for the door. “The bonesetter will be here any moment! Do you want her to see you brawling like a common peasant, or acting like the gentleman I know you to be?”

“Send for the bishop, wife, we may as well give last rites. I will be half a man without my leg, I...” his voice dropped and he turned back to me, stroking the back of his hand across my cheek. He was shaking, his teeth chattering, and his voice had begun to slur from the drink. "But why are you crying? Will you mind so overmuch when I am dead?”

"You're not going to die!" My voice quaked a little on the last word.

"Who in't going t' die?" It was a little old lady, ugly and wizened, with a wide mouth like a toad and shoulders wide as a dockworker's. She had a thick accent, and leaned upon a walking stick. "I be Mrs Mapp, the bonesetter. Ye must be that high-faultin' foreign miss what married this foolish man who's t' race that wicked Duke. Aye, all o' London is talkin' about it." She eyed Edmund's leg with a gimlet gaze.

"The race!" I gasped, swallowing hard. If I gambled nothing, I would lose everything. "But how do you know, madam?"

The bonesetter barked back a sharp laugh. "'Tis the Talk of the Town, girl!"

When she moved toward the bed, her clothes letting off a not unappealing cloud of herbal smells, Edmund set down the bottle. "What witchcraft is this?" He stared at the old woman, throughly appalled. "Who is this hag?"

"You respect your ma, boy?" Mrs Mapp bent her ear to his leg and then began massaging it roughly, and he howled. "That's what I thought. Feels like it ain't shattered."

"That is what the surgeon said, madam. He wanted to amputate." At Sinclaire's words, Edmund clenched his jaw and went quite pale.

"An' it was you that kicked him out, eh?" She poked a knobbly finger at me. "I like yer brass, girl. Want ter make yerself useful? Fetch me some hot water, as hot as ye can make it, and fresh, clean towels. Well? Are ye waitin' for infection tae set in, ye wee mort?" She fixed me with a gimlet eye, throwing a pitcher off the washstand to me, and then drew herself up to her full height. "Now, boy," she said, turning her attention back to my husband, "you're goin' ter want t' get very drunk."

When I returned, my husband had drunk nearly the entire second bottle of whiskey, and when he saw me, his eyes lit up. "Look, Shinclaire, it's Dita," he slurred. "My angel."

"Aye, she's yer angel all right, boy." The bonesetter cackled, handing Sinclaire a strap of leather, and he put it in Edmund's teeth. "Now we'll set the bone. You, lads --" and she jabbed a finger at Sinclaire and Alf, who I had quite forgotten. "Hold 'is lordship down. An' you, Angel, since ye insist on makin' use o' yerself, cant a tune fer yer man t' keep 'im calmed." She chewed on her spit. "Ye can sing, can't ye?"

"Dita caterwauls like a cat in heat!" Edmund winked at the bonesetter. "Her mama was a celebrated opera soprano, but m' wife can't carry a tune in a bucket!"

"Ned!" I scowled, crossing my arms. "You told me I had a beautiful voice!"

Sinclaire coughed, looking ashamed. "He's right, y'know. Your singing voice sounds like a cat yowling. Madam, you'll want to cover your ears."

The old woman cackled loudly, and set to her work. I opened my mouth, and began to sing a song from when I was a child, Edmund's eyes never leaving my face.

Tell him to buy me an acre of land,

Between the salt water and the sea sand.

Tell him to plough it with a ram's horn,

And sow it all over with one peppercorn.

Tell him to sheer't with a sickle of leather,

And bind it up with a peacock's feather.

Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme...

When at last the grisly task was finished, Edmund had passed out from the pain, and the men were sweating from the exertion it had taken to hold him down. I escorted the bonesetter to the back gate and paid her a golden crown, she bit down on it, satisfied, and then looked at me with eyes that saw beyond mortal knowing, and I shivered all over at the sorrow in her eyes.

"When he wakes, Angel, he'll be cursin' both god an' the devil. Don't ye let him go t' that race tomorrow."

I gasped, I had quite forgotten it. "But his second will race the Duke, madam. Mr Sinclaire."

"Oh, aye? Your lover they say, and they also say this." And she bent her lips to my ear, dry and cracked like leather. "When men and women make plans, the Devil laughs." She slipped something into my hand.

"What?" I gasped. But when I turned around, she was gone, and the breeze brought the smell of ash and bone from the charnel houses beyond the lichgate, though perhaps I only imagined it.

And inside my palm lay a knucklebone.

•••

"I'm afraid, Ernest," I whispered. We were in the back garden, sitting on the bench together in perfect propriety, as Susanna played ball with her puppy, a little white eared runt Edmund's favorite bitch, Cleopatra, had thrown. He doted on his daughter whenever he could, and I wondered how he could ever think her the child of the man beside me, who twirled his finger through one of my red curls, bringing it to his lips.

"I do not intend to lose the race, if that is what you fear." He tugged whimsically on one ringlet. "Perhaps I need a lady's token, for luck."

I kissed him chastely near the mouth, mindful of my husband lying inside. "Very well." He handed me his knife, and I wrapped the ringlet in my handkerchief, slipping it into his front pocket. He caught my chin in his hand, brushing his lips against mine as he stared into my eyes. We both took a sharp breath, and moved back -- and not a moment too soon.

My Lady Grandmother walked into the garden and came up short upon seeing us, her brows shooting up in surprise. We jumped guiltily apart. "Granddaughter, your husband is awake and asking for you."

•••

Edmund was sitting up in bed, his face contorted in a grimace of pain. His leg was bound in boiled linen bandages and kept immobile in a splint. When he saw me, his whole aspect lightened, and he patted the space beside him.

I sat down next to him with my knees drawn up to my chest, and when he put his arm around me, I pressed my face to his broad chest, unable to hold back my tears. "Ned, Ned."

He tilted up my chin. "Don't cry, I am still living." He brushed his lips across my cheeks, tasting my tears. Of course, this only made me cry all the more, and I nuzzled my face into the crook of his neck, lying back against the pillows with him, my body curled up against his. When he spoke, it was husky, ragged. "I don't know how I should have made it back without the thought of you in my head. When the horse threw me... I remembered that race with the Duke, years ago, before we eloped, and I thought, At last my luck has run out. And then I knew I could not live a single moment more unless I..." he turned his face, his eyes softening, and he swallowed, hard. "Unless I had but one more kiss from you, Lady wife."

His lips on mine were gentle, but demanding: his tongue teased the seam of my lips apart, and I opened them to him, moaning a little as a ripple of heat lit up every nerve ending along my skin. He tasted of whiskey and clear, green water. "You do not know how badly I want to be buried deep inside of you, Dita." Edmund's husky admittance kindled such a longing inside of me that I was staggered by it. He took a small sip of his tea, and his eyes held the glazed look of one whose head is filled with opium Dreams. "Do you not ever think that Susanna might like a little brother to play with?"

"She has brothers." I was referring, of course, to Briar's children, Harry and Joss, who we saw little to none of, though that was more her doing than mine. If she had not been so ridiculously jealous of me, I would have had the boys to play with Susanna, and often. Besides, it would do Edmund good to see his boys more frequently, for I knew he missed them sore.

In Edmund's voice was a bone-deep ache that made my heart fair turn over with pain for him. "I did not know my father, Dita. And I barely see the boys, for she has sent them to be raised by her mother, back in Grovershire." His lips twisted. "She says it is so she can give all her attention to me, but I... Oh, Dita, it kills me not to see my sons."

This was the drink loosening his tongue, I was sure of it. Edmund had never expressed such a desire heretofore. In this state, I would be able to get him to admit to anything. But I was not that cruel, not yet. "Tell me again how you want to make another babe with me." I twined my fingers through his, and his brow crinkled before he burst out laughing, half sitting up.

"Why, in the usual way, Dita. Where I take you every which way possible until you conceive, and then you do not touch me again, but go back to your lover." His voice was void of mirth as he leaned back again. "Do I have that aright?"

"Ned..." my voice was stricken. "You know that is not... I mean..."

"It is what we do, Perdita." He sounded weary suddenly, and a shadow moved across his face. "It is the game we play. By God, I am sick to heart of it."

"Edmund, would you -- oh!" My mother in law clapped a hand over her heart, shocked to see me curled up beside her son in the bed. "You need your rest, my son." She kissed his brow, smoothing the lines away, and looked steadily at me. For once, we were at an accord.

Very gently, I sat up, attempting to disentangle our fingers, but he gripped my hand hard, pulling me back to his chest.

"No, stay with me. I shan't be able to sleep unless you are here." His lips brushed against my ear. "I need you, Dita."

"Well, you need your sleep more, husband." I laid my head back down upon his chest, pressing a soft kiss to the place where his heart beat so steadily beneath my cheek. "But I will stay."

"Stay forever, Dita," he whispered.

"I will." My false promise fell on deaf ears, he was asleep.

•••

I could not sleep before the morning of the race, I tossed and turned in bed all night, the knucklebones upon the wash stand, mocking me. The Duke... This was under his saddle... You are a clever girl, Perdita...

I bolted up in the darkness.

Sinclaire.

•••

Historical notes:

(1) Burial in consecrated ground was only permitted after 1823 without ritual, and with ritual only after the 1880 Burial Act. Usually suicides and unchristened babies were not buried in the family plot, but outside the churchyard, or to the north. I wasn't able to find much.

Source: http://www.sacred-texts.com/etc/fcod/fcod11.htm

https://genealogy.stackexchange.com/questions/10193/burial-of-a-person-who-committed-suicide-in-18th-century-england

(2) the lyrics that Perdita sings are from a traditional ballad, a version of Scarborough Fair which can be found here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scarborough_Fair_(ballad)

•••

Tag list: @cocomaxley @tornbetween2loves @europeanguy @mrsernestsinclaire @annieleigha @drakewalkerfantasy @jlouise88 @hellospunkiebrewster @super-secret-fandom-blog @topsyturvy-dream @enmchoices @littlecrookedheart

Permanent tag list: @breaumonts @gardeningourmet @writtenbycandy @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalkerwhipped @quartzandarrow @the-everlasting-dream @remis-choices @debramcg1106 @lizeboredom @anneross41 @enmchoices @walkerismychoice @darley1101 @blackcatkita

#tw: racial slur'#mr marlcaster x mc #mr sinclaire x mc #desire and decorum #choices desire and decorum #angst

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samingtonwilson · 7 years

Text

Relationship Tutor: (3) Contemporary Sadism

relationship tutor masterlist

Summary: College AU. Bucky, a relationship novice, asks for your help in dating your friend. Unable to say no to him, you agree despite everyone and everything telling you not to.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: language

A/N: when i wrote this part, i really wanted to go to the taqueria down the street from me and get horchata but i didn’t because im a FOOL. also, the gif below is quite large. i apologize for that but i couldn’t find a smaller one. whatever, he looks good so just forgive me and move on

You walked into your kitchen to find stacks of red cups and bottles of unopened alcohol on each surface, glass bottles of vodka too expensive for university students to afford lying in the freezer alongside dreaded tequila.

The refrigerator was filled with different fruit juices and a few varieties of soda, your sixteen-ounce bottle of grapefruit-mint juice dwarfed by the gallon of Costco brand cranberry juice and orange juice that looked far too bright to be as natural as the label claimed.

You sighed as you bent to pull the clear bottle from the second shelf, frowning at Sam when you stood upright again. “I’m assuming we’re having a party?”

“S’Friday, baby girl!” he practically cheered, his voice thick with an unswallowed bite of cereal. He banged his fist against the table. “Time to get fucked-up.”

“There a reason we’re playing host? Steve and Bucky’s place is more equipped for a party,” you said as you twisted the bottle open and sat across from Sam at the table. “And by that I mean they don’t care if people puke on their furniture or fuck in their beds. Plus their floors are already scuffed up.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at you as you took a long sip of juice, stirring his cereal slowly. “If the party wasn’t here, you wouldn’t show up. This way you have no choice.”

You mouthed his words imitatively and sighed, leaning back in your chair so the wooden backrest creaked a bit. “Have you already told everyone?”

“Texted ‘em all last night.”

“So I don’t really have a way out of this, do I?”

“Nope,” he replied, popping the “p” with a grin. “Didn’t tell Natasha yet, though.”

You tilted your head. “Why not?”

He shrugged and stood up to place his bowl in the sink, flicking on the sink to fill the porcelain with water. His gaze was on the sink as he shrugged again. “Are you sure you want her here?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Barnes is gonna be here.”

Once you texted Natasha and received a reply, you nodded to yourself and rose to join him at the sink, standing beside him as you leant against the counter’s edge. You reached up to nudge his shoulder with your fingertips so he would let his focus fall from the dish he was washing for a moment. “She isn’t my enemy just because Bucky’s interested in her. We’re still friends and I still love her. I can’t blame her for how Bucky feels.”

“You know how he gets at parties.”

“Yeah, well, he wants to take it slow with her. He only asked me because he doesn’t want to have sex with her right away.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Sadistic as fuck, Y/N.”

You leant towards him, smiling despite yourself. “It’s very flattering to see how concerned you are about me. You sure I’m not your leather jacket, Sampson?”

He snorted, setting the bowl in the dish basket and wiping his hands on a towel. “You ain’t my leather jacket. But you are a pain in my ass.”

“You could just tell me you love me.”

He shook his head. “Don’t have time. I’ve got class in ten minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go learn,” you said with a dismissive wave of your hand, laughing when he blew you a kiss.

You’d busied yourself in the kitchen while he left, washing and cutting one of the many green apples you had stowed in the bottom drawer of the fridge. You were cutting the fruit in half when the door opened and slammed shut once more. “You forget something, Samington?”

You heard a chuckle that had you setting your knife down. “S’not Sam.”

You squared your shoulders and picked up the knife again, cutting the seeds out of the four segments you’d made. “Don’t you have class right now?”

Bucky clicked his tongue, strolling into your kitchen and casually stealing a portion of the apple to bite into obnoxiously. “Cancelled. Professor’s sick, or missed his train, or something. Didn’t pay attention to whatever the email said beyond, ‘Class, I regret to inform you that I must cancel lecture today.’”

“But you memorized that part of it specifically?”

He hummed, smiling. “It was so emotionally significant, I had no choice but to memorize it.” He glanced around the kitchen, narrowing his eyes. “You guys having a party?”

“Detective Barnes at it again,” you quipped, laughing as he scowled at you. “Sam didn’t text you?”

He shook his head. “Probably texted Steve to tell me. He’s not my biggest fan.”

“Can you blame him? He and Steve were practically joint at the hip before you transferred here.”

Bucky nodded with a frown.

“I mean, I’d probably be living alone had you not transferred. I’d have my own bathroom,” you continued, your voice lilting dreamily. “My own fridge, my own television, a Netflix account used only by me, I probably wouldn’t be awoken by the sound of a different girl’s moaning every weekend.” You cocked an eyebrow. “Why’d you transfer here again?”

He shrugged, opening the freezer and rummaging until he could retrieve a popsicle, popping the plastic wrapper. “I missed Steve.”

“Yeah? S’cute,” you smiled, ruffling his hair as you passed him.

He smiled back and shook his head, biting half the popsicle off in one go. “Less cute, more co-dependent. I grew up with the punk needing me and as soon as he moves away, I find myself needing him.”

“That’s somehow even cuter,” you cooed, shooting a grin to him over your shoulder while he followed you to the couch. “Little, scrawny Steve being protected by little Bucky against the ruffians on the schoolyard.”

“Ruffians?” he asked with a snort. As soon as he sat, he pulled your legs onto the sofa cushions and placed them in his lap. “We grew up with him instigating fights with guys twice our age and weight— not in the nineteen-thirties.”

You found yourself looking away from the amusement in his eyes, trying to control your breathing when his free hand toyed with your fuzzy socks. “So are you coming tonight?”

“Will you be here?”

You nodded, sitting back against the armrest behind you and tipping your nose towards the ceiling with your eyes shut. “Don’t really have a choice.”

After tossing the popsicle stick onto the coffee table, his fingers wrapped around your ankles while his thumbs rubbed comforting circles against your skin. “We could escape, go to that taqueria you’re obsessed with for some horchata.”

You smiled despite the hammering in your chest. “You sure about that? Nat’ll be here.”

He didn’t reply until you lifted your head to meet his gaze. He smiled softly and shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t want you staying here for my benefit.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Buck. I would’ve been stuck here regardless.” You took your legs from him and folded them under you. “Sam said he only took the responsibility of throwing a party so I’d actually show up. Helping you would just be killing two birds with one stone.”

“Good because I was thinking we need to get a move on.”

You snorted. “Was all that considerate crap just an act, Barnes?”

He gasped in mock offense. “I would never.”

Laughing through your nose, you shook your head. “I was thinking we should get a move on, too. Nat’s probably forgotten you by now.”

It’d been a week since your feigned run-in with Natasha. You hadn’t given Bucky any specific instructions on how to follow-up, simply telling him to not act too friendly, too fast. You knew how uncomfortable it made you when people you’d only seen once or twice for five-minutes acted as if you were lifelong friends— it put you off almost permanently. And, seeing as Natasha was one of the only people that could hold a candle to your need for distance and slow progression, you thought it was safe to assume she was similar.

It would take some more time together, some more meaningful exchanges, some more feigned run-ins for Natasha to accept Bucky as someone she was actually familiar with, rather than just a stranger with a name.

He shook his head. “She hasn’t actually.”

“Yeah? And how would you know that?”

“She says hi from time to time. Smiles, waves.”

You frowned in consideration and nodded. “But you haven’t spoken again?”

“Even if you told me I should, I wouldn’t know what to say,” he laughed nervously. “She just— She looks at you in this intense way. It’s intimidating, especially when you haven’t given me a script.”

Your lips resisted the urge to fall into a deep scowl. “I’m not going to be around you all the time, telling you what to say if this does turn into something.”

“I know, I just— I just need your help for now. I lose my nerve around her.”

You looked away from him for a brief moment. “Seems like you’re over whoever it was.”

He smiled in that soft, small way that still managed to reach his eyes. “Not really. Natasha’s insanely hot, but I don’t know her yet. She makes me nervous from how elusive she is.”

“The mystery is very hot and nerve-wracking.”

He hummed. “What’s the next part of this? How do we proceed?”

“I was thinking you should find things you two have in common, reasons you’d be around each other. Common interests, mutual friends, you know? We already know you’re both friends with Sam and I so you two could find yourselves in the same places if they involve me or Sam.”

“What does being in the same places have to do with anything?”

“Ever heard of the mere exposure effect?”

When he shook his head, you continued, “It’s basically, like, the more you see something or someone, the more attractive that something or someone becomes to you. It also has to do with proximity— which is another factor in who you’re attracted to. You tend to like people more if you’re closer to them and if you anticipate being close to them often.”

“Aren’t you an English major?”

You nodded. “Psychology minor, but that’s beside the point. Proximity, mere exposure— it’ll make you more attractive to her, as will similarity.”

“What happened to ‘opposites attract’?”

“It works if all you want is to fuck, but you said you wanted something more,” you answered. “Relationships work better when both partners have things in common. Tonight, talk to her to see if you guys have things in common.”

“You could just tell me about things she likes so I can bring them up and tell her I like them when we speak tonight.”

You shook your head and grimaced at him. “I don’t endorse lying.”

He frowned in return. “You endorsed telling her she dropped a pen last week when I was supposed to introduce myself to her.”

“That isn’t the same. I told you to do something that would make for a cute story in the future. This is basically lying about your characteristics and who you are just to make her like you. It’s morally repugnant.”

His frown turned to one of consideration. “Makes sense.”

“Yeah, so just talk to her tonight. I’ll be there if you want me to be, just to facilitate things in case it gets awkward or there’s a lull.”

“You’re the best, you know that?”

If his grin hadn’t stopped your heart, his leaning towards you to press his lips to your forehead would have.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you inaudibly exhaled, swallowing and pushing at his chest so he fell back against the couch with a small smile. “I have class in a bit but stay as long as you’d like. If you go through my stuff again, I’ll know.”

“That was one time! It was raining and I felt particularly snoopy.”

PART 4: SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY

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