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joheunsaram · 3 years

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platonic (ksj)

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Summary- Finding a new method for stress relief, you rope in your bestfriend/fwb to try it out with you.

word count - 3.1k

pairing- fwb!Seokjin x Reader

rating- R

genre- smut, fluff, pwp, fwb2lovers, bff2l

warnings- masturbation (f and m), cockwarming, missionary, bants, cuddling, seokjin and reader are literal oblivious idiots.

a.n- Enjoy this shameless self-indulgent bullshit, that started from a very hot weird dream I had and Seokjin’s latest selfie 🥵.

A big warm thank you to @sugasbabiie and @chemicalpink for beta reading on such short notice! ily guys 💕

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌

“Seokjin! I’m stressed,” you declared as soon as you walked into your best friend’s apartment, your eyes quickly finding his large frame reclining on the couch while he scrolled through the channels. Barely sparing you a glance, he hummed while nodding slightly. Exasperated, you sighed, stomping over to stand next to him and repeating your earlier statement, albeit with an extra nasally whine.

“So? Want me to eat you out?” He asked, eyes still glued onto the television playing a rerun of Hell’s Kitchen. Rolling your eyes, you plopped onto the cushions next to him, making him finally glance at you. Seokjin had been friends with you for over a decade at this point, and one look at you made his brows jump in concern. You looked haggard, eyes sunken and cheeks hallowed, your body drowning in the oversized sweater dress you wore. You rolled your eyes at his comment, and Seokjin felt guilt gnaw at him for his earlier nonchalance.

“Sorry. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just work’s kicking my ass, and I have my viva next week, and all this grading!” Seokjin wrapped his arms around you, head resting on top of yours as you ranted, feeling a little lighter, finally talking about your worries. He let you speak, whining about how much you regretted doing a PhD and working part-time, on top of being a TA, biting back the urge to say “I told you so”. He had tried in vain for you to lighten your workload, but you were also one of the most stubborn people he knew.

“I was serious, by the way. Want me to make you feel better?” He asked, standing up to grab you a bottled water from the fridge. He knelt in front of you, handing you the bottle, his hands slowly running up and down your bare legs, leaving goosebumps in their wake as you sipped the water.

You usually would jump at a chance to jump Seokjin, the two of you had been sleeping together for months now, but you had other ideas for tonight.

“Actually. I read this article,” you started, your breath hitching a little as Seokjin continued caressing up your thighs, his thumbs now almost touching your panties. He smirked a little at the effect he clearly had on you, hands moving higher up your legs every time he moved upwards. Placing his lips on your neck, he hummed for you to continue, tracing the vein that ran along the side. You could feel yourself getting distracted as you got more turned on, so with a slight push to his chest you stopped him, chuckling at the almost offended expression on his face.

“As I was saying. I read an article and it said cockwarming’s supposed to be good for stress. I wanna try it.”

You didn’t think Seokjin’s eyes could open that wide as he stared at you, mouth agape. Reaching forward, you placed a finger under his chin, closing his mouth, which instantly made a scowl appear. You decided not to mention how red his ears were all of a sudden.

“No way. That’s totally weird,” he protested, arms crossed, leaning away from you.

“Why is that weird? We fuck all the time!” You argued, leaning back against the couch as he moved from the floor to next to you, the two of you facing each other, one leg resting on the cushions.

“But that’s so… intimate.” Seokjin rubbed the back of his neck, the heat not providing him any comfort whatsoever as he watched you get even more annoyed, your brows furrowed with a frown.

“No it’s not! It’s platonic. Nothing weird about it!” You were adamant. You and Seokjin were not vanilla people. You only started sleeping with each other after a night of drunken debauchery led to you doing a BDSM test and realizing how compatible the two of you were, opting to delve into the no strings attached deal full of experimentation. If anything, this was child’s play compared to the things the two of you had already done. It baffled you how he could think something as simple as cockwarming would be more intimate than him fucking your face as he edged you with a vibrator.

Seokjin rolled his eyes at your comment, laughing as he shook his head. “Platonic cockwarming?” He asked with a raised eyebrow and you couldn’t help getting even more annoyed at that.

“How is that different than platonic fucking?” You exclaimed, hands in fists, your face almost red in rage. Even yelling at him, Seokjin thought you looked cute, but he needed you to understand how it could affect your relationship. He didn’t want to feel his heart swell when he looked at you, small and comfortable on his dick. He had had enough of those stupid butterflies whenever you would kiss him and cuddle with him during aftercare. He was not going to be part of a cliched storyline and fall for his best friend.

“Cause we’re not staring at each other while you’re sitting on my dick,” he rebutted, hands flailing as they usually did when he got too into an argument. You truly didn’t understand why that would be any different than whenever you fucked in missionary. You could feel your stress increasing. This was so counterproductive.

You could see your little spat was not going anywhere so deciding to change tactics, you leaned into Seokjin, arms around his shoulders as he stared at you with skepticism, eyes narrowed and an eyebrow raised in apparent amusement.

“Seokjinnie, please,” you pleaded, pouting up at him and Seokjin was so weak. With a heavy sigh, he pulled you closer, kissing your forehead in defeat.

“Fine. What do we do, you menace,” he acquiesced, smiling softly at the giant grin that spread across your face.

“Thank you!” You yelled kissing him loudly on the lips, moving away from him and reaching for your phone to pull up the article. You were sure it was pretty straight forward, but you wanted to be sure. “Okay get hard,” you said dismissively, waving a hand towards his crotch without looking up from your phone as he stared at you in shock, unmoving.

“Should we get naked for this,” he asked almost timidly as he started slowly stroking himself over his jeans. He was not going to lie, usually he would be the one taking control, but the way you were coldly dismissing him made his dick twitch.

“Do you want to be naked for this?” You countered, finally looking at him. His plush lip was between his teeth, and he had unbuttoned a few top buttons of his shirt, as he gazed at you, hand slowly moving over his bulge that seemed to be steadily growing. You couldn’t help the blush that rose up your chest at the erotic sight.

“What does the article say,” he whispered, humming a little as he pointed to your phone with his eyes, his hair falling over his eyes as he did so.

“It recommends it,” you answered, matching his tone and it felt like the atmosphere in the room shifted, the easy banter of earlier fading into tension.

“Okay then let’s do it right. Nothing we haven’t seen before right?” He chuckled lightly as he took off his shirt, the sudden view of his broad chest setting your heart aflutter. Clearing your throat, you followed suit and soon the two of you were in your birthday suits, awkwardly staring at each other as you sat side by side on the couch.

“Do you have lube?” You broke the silence, wanting to end whatever stale discomfort was between the two of you. Seokjin snorted at your request.

“Why do I have to work myself up and you just use lube?” He said with a scowl, starting to stroke himself once again. “That’s not fair,” he pointed out, literally pointing to his dick, and just like that the awkwardness was long gone.

“Are you suggesting we tape a popsicle stick to your dick to make it stand then,” you deadpanned, much to Seokjin’s annoyance who only huffed in response making you groan, leaning further into the cushions, your legs spread in the most non-sexual manner possible. “You’re making me more stressed! Stop being a baby and get on with it,” you whined

“Well I don’t have lube, so I suggest you get on with it too,” he said with a slight moan as he spit on his hand before starting to stroke with purpose. You bit your lip at the sight of his core clenching, his brows scrunched in concentration as he closed his eyes, leaning back with a groan. You could feel yourself getting wetter and pretty soon you were sure you wouldn’t even need to touch yourself to be dripping for him.

Deciding to move things along faster, you moved your hand to your entrance, catching your arousal on your fingertips before moving towards your clit, rubbing slow circles into the nub and sending sparks through your body. You couldn’t help but go faster as you caught a glimpse of Seokjin from the corner of your eye, his cock now fully erect, a beautiful flush growing from his face all the way to his chest. You moaned at the sight, and he finally opened his eyes, looking at you laying back and playing with yourself, his dick twitching.

“Mmm that’s it, get yourself all nice and wet for me baby.” he groaned, his eyes roaming your body as if to memorize each freckle upon it as he lost himself, increasing the pressure of his grip around himself.

“Stop! It’s not supposed to be sexy!” You protested, ignoring the way the deep timbre of his voice sent shivers up your spine.

“Fine! God! So annoying,” he mumbled, before moving closer, a hand on your hip as he pulled you towards him. “Come on. Let’s get you destressed.”

“It’s supposed to help you too, you know,” you said, as you climbed over him, your legs on either side of his thighs.

“I’m hot as fuck, I don’t do stress,” he said grinning at the way you glared at him, as he laughed, both hands now on your hips. His laugh was so irritating you wanted to punch him, but the sight of him, naked under you, made you squirm, more than ready to impale yourself on him.

“Sure. I’ll tell you that next time you’re crying about your dissertation.” You put your hands on his shoulders, enjoying the taut muscles under your fingers as you rose on your knees.

“I can just put my clothes back on, you know,” he said, face hardened as his grip on your hips got tighter, and your heart lurched at how domineering he looked all of a sudden.

“Okay sorry, sorry!”

You used a hand to gingerly direct his tip to your entrance, before starting to slide down. Biting your tongue, you tried not to moan at the stretch, never having taken him without foreplay before. You had never felt so full before, and you leaned your head against his shoulder as you adjusted to his extremely generous size. He groaned, arms snaking around your waist, as he fought the urge to fuck into you, your warm walls making him feral.

“Now what?” He asked, gritting his teeth as he tried to control his breathing and the innate desire to make you scream on top of him. God, why did he think this was a good idea?

“Now we just wait and destress, I guess…” you trailed off, as you sat up straighter, your arms around his neck, trying to relax, despite the way Seokjin stared up at you.

It was silent for a few moments, the two of you just gazing into each other’s eyes as your breathing regulated. He pulled you closer after a few seconds, your chest against his, stare unwavering. Soon, your legs started feeling strained, the muscles aching after being in one position for too long. You squirmed a little, causing Seokjin to hiss at the sudden movement.

“You wanna move your legs behind me?” He asked, voice hoarse and breathy, and you nodded in response. With his hands under your ass, he pulled you up a little, moving a little towards the edge of his seat to make room for your legs. Without pulling off him, you crossed your legs around his waist, the new position making you whimper. A sound that made his pulse jump.

You watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. He had been right, this felt way more intimate than anything the two of you had ever done. Seated on his dick, his arms holding you close, your hands in the hair on the nape of his neck, you felt an unbelievable warmth wash over you, starting from your chest and radiating towards your limbs. Perhaps, that was the stress relief, but maybe it was more.

He licked his lips, his eyes moving from yours to where your teeth had pulled the plump flesh between them. This was a bad idea. This was meant to be platonic, so why did he feel a sudden urge to kiss you, wrap himself around you and ensure the dark circles under your eyes never manifested again. It had to be the hormones, right? Right?

Before he could overthink further, however, your lips were on his. It was familiar but, oh so novel at the same time. The kiss was soft, a practiced dance of the same movements that were usually flurried, making your heart sing. Friends don’t kiss like this, and friends with benefits definitely don’t kiss like this.

You didn’t know how long you made out, leisurely on the couch, but soon it wasn’t enough, hands roaming over each other’s bodies. His thumbs traced your nipples as he squeezed your chest, the action soft and reverent. He moaned into your mouth as your walls clenched around him in response, his lips soon moving to your neck as he suckled on the skin.

You couldn’t take it anymore, every cell in your body begging you to bounce on him, and so with a mewl, you started moving your hips, grinding on him. His dick barely left your walls at the action, but the way your clit rubbed against his skin made you almost lose your senses in pleasure. It was unlike anything you had ever felt, a slow build that had the two of you breathless but unwilling to speed things up.

Soon his hips started moving in tandem with yours, and with his lips back on yours, he slowly moved the two of you so your back met the couch. Seokjin and you always saved missionary for quickies, but the way his weight cushioned you to the plush velvet below made your heart race, your eyes closing in overwhelming pleasure.

“Look at me,” he whispered, a string of saliva connecting his lips to yours as his hips moved sensually against you. Wrapping your legs around him tighter, you pulled him closer, whining his name. You wanted him to go faster, but at the same time the uncharted sensation made you want to lose yourself in him, wanting to bury yourself in his arms, his scent - in him.

As your eyes met, you felt an unfamiliar sensation brewing within your chest, setting it aglow. Fuck all the wild nights, and crazy sex with whips and cuffs. This is what you wanted for the rest of your life, just staring into Seokjin’s eyes, walls tightening around him as he panted above you.

“Are you going to come for me, baby?” Seokjin asked, a hand coming to move your hair away from where it had fell upon your forehead.

“Please Seokjinnie,” you whined, feeling as if you were tethering on the edge of reality, your whole being consumed by the man above you. Your mewls were what set him off, an inexplicable need to make you his zipping through his veins as he felt his balls tighten.

With his lips on yours once again as if they were magnetized, he kissed you, setting your limbs on fire as his hand reached between the two of you to rub tenderly at your clit.

That was all it took to set you off your orgasm rushing through your body, curling your toes as your eyes fluttered shut. You felt like you were lit up as the sensations flooded through you, your head floating in space and Seokjin couldn’t help but be enraptured by the way your mouth fell open in a silent scream.

Your little whines sent him over the edge as well, his cock twitching inside you as he groaned, high pitched yet raspy, falling on top of you as soon as his climax hit. He put his arms around you, pulling you closer, refusing to pull out. He had never felt so content, so satiated, his heart blooming within his chest as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply.

He never wanted this moment to end, and neither did you, but soon he was softening inside you, his length naturally falling away, leaving a mess on the couch. The two of remained intertwined, relishing the fleeting moment, unaware how much the both of you wanted to repeat the rare occurrence.

The shower was new too. You had showered with Seokjin a hundred times before, but never like this, with soft caresses of his hands as they lathered the shower gel on you - no cheeky groping, no silly dad jokes, just a comforting, entrancing silence. He dried your hair after as you did his, the two of you leaving the ensuite hand in hand, and walking into his bedroom. When you started moving towards the living room to gather your clothes, he tugged on your hand, still clasped in his, stopping you in your tracks.

“Stay,” he murmured, pulling you into his chest, unwilling to break the calm that had set between you like a warm fog settling into your bones. You nodded as he moved the two of you towards his bed, guiding you under covers before joining. Seokjin didn’t know why he suddenly felt so odd - extremely vulnerable but intensely safe. He had known you for over ten years, but he never felt as open around you as he did then, not wanting to hide his feelings behind bravado and humour.

Pulling you closer, legs entangled in yours, an arm under your head as he moved your damp hair from your face, his gleaming eyes met yours, and you couldn’t help but smile, warm and bright. Leaning in, his fingers moved your chin upwards, and soon his lips were on you, soft and cozy. You hummed against him, your mouth moving subtly in rhythm with his, neither of you deepening the kiss.

The two of you fell asleep that way, snug and intertwined. Neither of you spoke about it the next morning but even without admitting it to the other, you knew that you never wanted that moment to end.

However, sometimes, if you’re lucky, a moment can last an eternity.

taglist: @cheesecakes-randomshitz, @aroseforyoongi, @awhnamjoon, @agustdjoon, @codeinebelle, @hobiandsprite

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I hope you enjoyed this! For more fics of mine check out my masterlist

#seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #seokjin fluff #ficscafe #jin x reader #jin smut #jin fluff #thebtswritersclub #thetruthuntoldnet #52hertz #btsnoonanet #bangtanuniversity #purplearmynet #bts fanfic #seokjin fanfic #jin fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios

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salazarslytherin · 3 years

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dance lessons (j.p x gn!y/n)

requested: yes! by @riddikulusweasleys

🃛 masterlist!

summary: james teaches you how to dance

cw/tw: nothing, fluff is all, genderneutral!reader!!!

word count: 1.5k

a/n: short and sweet james fluff <3 hope you like it love! reblog to boost xxx

tag list at the bottom ☯︎ join tag list here

"So Y/N, who are you going to the ball with?"

Suddenly, all eyes were on you, the vivid conversation that had fogged the large table vanishing as you stared at Sirius like a deer in headlights. Froth covered your top lip from the mug of butterbeer you'd been sipping on, and you quickly wiped it away on your sleeve, blinking and stuttering slightly as you tried to answer the question.

"Um, no one."

Mutters of confusion sounded around the round table, a few other students in the Three Broomsticks whispering to each other as they caught wind of your words.

"What? Did nobody ask you to-"

Marlene delivered a quick slap to Dorcas's shoulder, widening her eyes as a quick sign of 'shut up' before turning back and smiling at you, a reassuring look in her eyes.

"It's okay Y/N, there's still time before the ball."

You shook your head at your friends, biting your lip to prevent a laugh from bubbling out of your mouth.

"No, no, no. It's not that, I just don't really feel like going to the ball."

A series of gasps sounded around the table – your friends were quite the drama kings and queens indeed.

"It's not that big of a deal! Relax."

Protests of "of course it's a big deal!" came around, but you quickly cut them off, wanting nothing more than to just move on from the conversation.

"Who wants another round of butterbeer? I'm buying!"

⚔︎.

"So, Y/N."

It was three days later now, you and James were sat in the library working on a transfiguration essay that was due the day after. Leafing through a reference book, you hummed lightly at James, a gesture for him to continue.

"Why aren't you going to the Yule Ball?"

Letting out a groan, your head fell to the table, knocking against the book.

"Can we not talk about that? Sirius literally bugged me about it all of potions."

Twirling his quill in his hand, James quirked an eyebrow at you, an inquisitive look in his eyes.

"Yeah, but unlike them, I know that you were asked. I was there when you were asked. By like, four different people. Why didn't you just agree to one of them and go?"

Letting out a deep sigh, your head turned to face the boy, tucking your hands under your legs as you sat on them, sheepish as you stared at him.

"Okay I can tell you. Just, don't laugh or whatever."

The boy nodded at you, his brows furrowed in uncertainty as he watched you trap your bottom lip between your teeth. Gnawing on the flesh, your eyes fluttered between his, dropping down for a second before exhaling:

"I don't know how to dance."

⚔︎.

That's how you ended up in the Room of Requirement, staring at your shoes while James fiddled with a charmed record player, putting on some old classical song that you might have heard somewhere in passing.

"Alright, are you ready?"

You looked up at James, pursing your lips in a semi pout.

"James I swear I've got two left feet or something, s'not gonna work out very well."

The boy rolled his eyes, straightening his back in true Pureblood fashion as he looked down at you.

"Please. I've had dance lessons since I was four. I can teach you to dance anything."

Stretching his arms out towards you, James raised his eyebrows, gesturing for you to move towards him.

"Come on, I'll lead."

⚔︎.

"Left, two, three."

"Shit!"

James's foot snapped away from under yours, the two of you stumbling as his arm wrapped tighter around your waist. Holding you closer to him, the pair of you fell down to the ground, you landing on top of him.

Your chests were pressed together, your lips ghosting his for a moment as your eyes refocused on James's. Your face was dangerously close to the bespectacled boy's, your breath fogging his glasses slightly. Noticing your distance, you scrambled to get up, brushing yourself off as you stood up. "Sorry James! Fuck, told you I can't dance." The boy laid on the ground for a few more seconds, his eyes blinking in a mist of mild confusion before he stood up as well, clearing his throat awkwardly. "That wasn't too bad. It's literally your first attempt, don't get so distraught over one mishap."

You raised your eyebrows at the boy.

"Really. One mishap. Sure, that's the first time we fell on the ground, but it's like the tenth time I've stepped on your foot."

The seeker rolled his eyes at you, stepping closer to wrap his arm around your waist again as the music automatically looped on the player. He took your hand in his larger one, extending your arms towards the door before stepping backwards.

"Yeah, well, mistakes happen Y/N. This doesn't mean that you can't dance. You're literally learning. It takes time. Not just three hours in this room."

You sighed as you stepped to the side, instinctively responding to James's movements as the two of you waltzed in time to the music.

"Do you really not want to go to the ball?"

You rolled your eyes as your feet glided over the wooden floor, James's hand resting on the small of your back as he guided you into a heel turn, shoes clicking on the smooth maple.

"I-, I don't know."

Your arm was lifted over your head as James twirled you gently, your arm extending as your left foot stepped out sideways, your intertwined hands extending as your free arms stretched outwards, before turning back in to clasp each other gently once more.

"Come on Y/N, it'll be fun."

As if to emphasize his point, James twirled you outwards, the tenacity with which he did so making you laugh as your hand flew out instinctively. Laughing alongside you, James pulled you back in, your body whirling closer towards his in a laugh.

The laugh was cut off as the momentum made you stumble, James letting go of your hand to catch you, fingers interlocking as he wrapped his arms around your waist fully. Eyes squeezing shut in fear of falling, only to find your chest pressed against James's as he pulled you in.

One eye opened as you looked up at the bespectacled boy, the other quickly following it as you watched James, his eyes darting down to glance at your lips before looking back into your eyes.

Your chests rose and fell in unison, as the seconds ticked on you became acutely aware of the fact that his grip hadn't loosened, hands wrapped around your waist, eyes boring into yours.

"Um-"

"Y/N-"

Your mouths opened in unison, smiling as both of you stopped simultaneously.

"You go."

James nodded, his bottom lip sticking out as he furrowed his brows in a bout of uncertainty.

"Do you, wanna go to the ball with me?"

A smile blossomed on your face.

"Don't you have a date?"

James looked up awkwardly, his arms stiffening around you but still not quite letting go.

"Um, I might have... been waiting to ask someone."

The corner of your lip curled upwards as you looked up at the boy.

"Oh yeah? But what if that someone still doesn't want to go?"

James's arms pulled you closer – somehow it was still possible. Your chest fully pressed against his, the prominent smell of broom polish and mint dancing into your olfactory senses.

"I thought I might've persuaded them. They'll have a fantastic dance partner too so they won't have to worry."

Your eyebrows shot up in amusement.

"But... What if they still need some persuasion?"

It was now James's turn to smile, the sides of his mouth turning up as his eyes darted down to your lips once more.

"Would a kiss persuade them, you think?"

"Maybe-"

Before the word had left your mouth properly, James had caught your lips in a kiss, melding your mouths together as your eyes fluttered shut. His hands finally left your waist, trailing up your sides to cup your chin. Your hand moved to hold him by the nape of his neck, memorising each and every crevice of his lips.

After a fleeting moment that seemed to last forever, the two of you fell apart, chests heaving as your hands left each other for the first time in minutes, the ghost of James's hands on your waist haunting you.

"So, are they convinced?"

A soft chuckle left you, pressing your lips together in a moment of shyness, cocking the edge of your mouth upwards.

"Hmm. I think they are. So, shall we practice more? So that somebody won't be too embarrassed on the dance floor?"

James held his hands out, tilting his head to the side as he smirked at you.

"Of course. But it's your turn to lead now."

Your mouth fell open, staring at the boy, bemused.

"What?"

James barked out a laugh, ruffling his hair slightly as you just watched him.

"You don't expect me to lead all night, do you?"

tag list: @tvinny, @marvelslut16, @siriusbarnesslut, @weasleysbitch2, @reg-arcturus-black, @smellslikebadmusic, @quindolyn, @lilypad-55449,@iamnibbsi, @kermiemoon, @jamespotterslover,@remoony1,@siriusblackwifeeey, @azura-mist, @accio-remus-lupin, @themoonwithprophets,@marimorena06, @risingtripletaurus, @greenlyblue, @lillsthoughts,@i-love-scott-mccall,@jeannelupinblack, @justadreamyhufflepuff if you’re crossed out i can’t tag you for some reason, please try to check if your tagging is on!

#mine #writing #james potter #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #marauders #marauders era #marauders imagine #marauders fluff #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #harry potter imagine #harry potter fluff #hp fluff #hp imagine

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lustbile-archive · 3 years

Text

Wanna Watch?

YangyangxReader

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary/Warning: Smut. Yangyang swears that tentacles are hot, just watch one video with him and you’ll see. He promises.… this was supposed to be a blurb but then I got very carried away. and because of that it might be a little rambley at some parts im so sorry

Requested

You’d be the first to admit that you and Yangyang had a weird friendship. Your other friends had clocked it, saying that even for best friends, you were way too open with each other.

And they weren’t technically wrong. Something about being around Yangyang deleted your filter, made you say shit that you never thought you’d say to another human being, but in your defense, he was exactly the same way.

It started with a few dirty jokes. It wasn’t anything serious or any different than ones you’d say with or without each other, but you two did encourage each other. It was as if anything one of you said, the other had something to add. It didn’t take long for things to begin to spiral and for your friends to decide that you two together were lethal.

After that day it was like you were attached at the hip. Something about your shared vulgarness made you click and it wasn’t very long after until it went a little far.

It was the first time you stayed over at his place, a bottle of liquor tucked in your bag. Tipsy off a half a bottle each, you both let it slip what turned you on the most. It wasn’t weird at the time, but the next morning there was a tension there.

That tension eventually faded, leading to another sleep over. And another. And another. Each of them somehow leading to some form of sexual conversation.

But the one that happened tonight was different.

Some joke about porn was made. You two sat side by side in your own chairs as you watched him play some game you quickly forgot the name of, and he had deemed it appropriate to mention that it would be kinda hot if the woman he played as were to get fucked by the tentacle monster that she fought.

You started by jokingly scolding him about how, though you weren’t sure exactly in what way, what he said was chauvinistic. But then you followed it with teasing about how he was a weirdo for being into tentacles.

“Oh come on,” he goes on, much louder than he needed to be, “you cannot tell me you’ve never looked at tentacle porn. Not even just because you were curious?”

“What porn I watch is none of your business Yang,” you retort as you push your finger in his face, a bratty giggle bursting from you when he smacks your hand away in irritation.

“So you’re not denying that you’ve seen tentacle porn,” he hums, nodding to himself, “if that’s the case I’m just gonna assume you have.”

You move to retort again, but he quickly interrupts, “actually I’m going to assume that you only watch tentacle porn and it’s something you get off to very often.”

“You think about me getting off a lot Yangyang?” you ask, but you quickly realize maybe the question was a step too far once the words are in the air.

Thankfully, he seems to ignore your question as he suddenly closed his game, the incognito tab he opens immediately after making your mouth run dry.

“How about this,” he starts, his fingers running across the keyboard as he types in the the link to a porn site. You divert your eyes quickly when you see the bars auto fill pop up, the idea of seeing whatever he looked at when he forgot to go incognito making your stomach flip, “let’s just take a little peek and we’ll see who’s right.”

“See who’s right about what?” your voice pitches and your back straightens as you ask.

“About whether or not tentacles are hot,” he turns to you briefly as if he’s explaining a math equation to you, “come on dude keep up.”

“Man I don’t know,” you hesitate, but you quickly notice he already has a video picked out and queued.

“I’m not gonna force you to watch it if you don’t want,” he reassures as he hovers his cursor over the play button, “but I also won’t judge you if you’re curious.”

You gnaw on your bottom lip for a moment as you think, your heart beating faster as the seconds pass, “okay fine just play it before I change my mind.”

And that’s how you got where you are now. You and Yangyang curled into your chairs, eyes wide and curious as a slender woman, with a disproportionately large chest, screams and whines while she’s brutally fucked by a weird tentacle monster.

You feel your face twist in fascination, first at the amount of detail and time that must have went into animating each frame, but then slowly but surely, just how weirdly hot you found yourself finding the video.

Something about the way the multiple tentacles cover her body as they suspend her in the air. One is shoved deep in her mouth, gross gagging noises added as a result, two attached to both of her nipples and another set fucking her open from both holes. It was easily one of the weirdest things you’ve ever seen, but you couldn’t ignore the growing wetness it caused in your underwear.

You try to not let it show in your body language, the idea of Yangyang noticing your arousal and then most likely making fun of you for it making you want to crawl in a hole.

You eyes dart over to him for a moment to try and gauge how he’s feeling. The first thing you notice immediately is the way he curls to block your view of his crotch, the second being the fact that he looks at you as well.

“So… what are you thinking?” he asks slowly.

“I don’t know what are you thinking?” you throw back almost too quickly.

“I… I think you know what I’m thinking,” his words continue to spill out like molasses, his head quickly nodding to the space between his legs with a embarrassed flush to his skin, “I’m asking how you’re feeling.”

“I don’t know,” you double down, your head shaking with a jerk, “I- I don’t know how I’m feeling.”

“It’s okay if you like it-“

“I don’t know if I like it,” you lie, your tone defensive and sharp.

“You do know that you’re not a bad person for liking it right?” He continues to reassure as he tries to keep his patience with you.

You only huff in response, the video still loudly playing as you talk. You try to shift in your seat to create distance between you, but it only makes you aware of how your arousal grows.

“Okay im not gonna lie,” he starts, a joking tone to his voice in the way that tells you he’s trying to ease the tension, “I think it’s hot, but you probably guessed that. I’m just saying I could totallly jack it to this.”

You know it’s a joke, but that doesn’t stop the words from making your face warm and your thighs flex. And even though you try and advert your eyes, you know he is analyzing every move you make.

“Do you maybe…” he trails off as he considers what to say next, “ack, no no it’s weird never mind.”

“What?” you dart up in panic, “is something im doing weird?”

“No no no,” he panics as well, “you’re fine… I was just gonna ask if you... if you maybe wanted to see how much you like it. Like see if you can get off to it?”

It was in this you found out that maybe your friends were right. Maybe you were lethal together, too comfortable and relaxed and willing to do and say the worst in front of each other. If that wasn’t the case there was no way in hell you’d end up where you were now.

If someone had told you that when you first met Yangyang that one night you two would be masturbating to tentacle porn together, you would have told them they lived in a fantasy, that they were just delusional perverts that don’t like people being just friends, but they would have been right.

You felt weirdly eager as you pushed your pajama shorts and underwear to his floor, the air of the room hitting your skin and making you come to the terms of how wet the video had gotten you.

And the fact that Yangyang seemed equally as eager as he pulled himself from the restrains of his sweatpants both put you at ease while putting you incredibly in edge.

You tried to ignore him as he sat next to you. Your eyes taking an iron lock onto his screen as a new video played. It was the same idea, pretty girl with literally any possible hole stuffed with a slimy tentacle getting pleasured in any way possible, the only difference was a slight change in art style.

It took you a moment to get into it, your fingers gently tapping against your clit as you tried to build the courage to touch yourself the same way you do in the safety of your own room, but after one particularly hard thrust from the monster and a desperate cry from the girl, you couldn’t hold back.

Your fingers dipped into your entrance gently as you coated the tips in your arousal, your hips jumping slightly at the friction.

Yangyang tried to ignore you as well, his fist moving slowly as he tried to focus on the scene in front of him, but the way you jerked next to him and the bubbles of noise that slipped unintentionally from your lips, he felt like a starving tiger being tempted with a steak.

You tried to bite your tongue to hold in any moans as your fingers started to roll circles gently on your clit, but with the way you grew wetter and wetter and the rising sensitivity in the bundle of nerves, you couldn’t help the quiet whimpering that rose from you chest.

It wasn’t that you could get off to it, it was actually much easier than you had anticipated. Something about the way the girls in the videos were being stimulated in every way possible had you hot and dripping in your arousal, and maybe your best friend pleasuring himself next to you was making it a million times sexier.

You weren’t alone though. It didn’t take long for Yangyang to lose his internal battle, his eyes straining to his side and his gaming chair rolling back slightly to allow him to watch you from the side. He knew he could crank one out easily to the videos in front of him, he had done it plenty of times before, but if he let the opportunity of watching your chest rise and fall with labored breaths while your fingers moved quickly over your dampened skin pass him by, he’d be kicking himself forever.

He was moving before he could even think, the finger of his free hand working with a mind of his own as they tap gently on the side of your chair. His heart beat sky rockets when you jump, but he only feels himself get harder when he sees it doesn’t stop your rapidly moving hand.

“Say no,” he whispers regardless of his growing need to touch you, “say no cause I cannot ruin this friendship.”

“No offense Yang,” he almost collapses at how winded you sound, but also at the promise that you’re still comfortable enough to shorten his name, “but if what we’re doing now didn’t ruin it, I don’t think anything will.”

“Thank fuck,” he speaks too loudly again as he moves his chair next to yours, his hand brushing against the side of your bare leg as it leans against the arm of your chair, “cause I wanna touch you so bad dude.”

“Hmmmm,” you hum out as his words swirl your brain like a blender, your heart rapidly pumping against your chest. You’d be a liar if you tried to act like the idea didn’t cause a new wave of arousal run over your body. Your answer comes before you can even think of the consequences.

“Please,” the word being your only verbal response before you rip your hand away from your body, your legs falling wider apart as an invitation. Your body jumps in protest as you deny yourself the orgasm that was slowly building, and Yangyang immediately jumps into action to compensate.

The first touch of his fingers is unsure, a hesitation in his muscles as he tries to convince himself that what’s happening is real. He isn’t sure what’s hotter to him in that moment, the way you whimper with a slight pout to your lips when he finally presses his digits to your swollen clit, or the way your eyes remain locked on the animated porn.

He’s battling between the two, when you show him something better. Your hand moves wildly in the air for only a moment, before you're pushing it under his arm. It doesn’t take you much exploring before you find where his hand slowly moves against his length. Your hand swats gently at his in a way that weirdly reminds him of the way you swat at him when he does something he’s not supposed to, and after his brain catches up with your motions, he lets go.

He thinks his heart probably stops when your hand wraps around him, your wrist immediately moving at the same pace as his fingers. His eyes slam shut for a second, a desperate attempt to hold off his orgasm, before they open slightly again.

He tries to do the same as you and keep his eyes trained on the video, and it works a few times, but as you gush and twitch against his unrelentingly moving fingers. He feels like one of his biggest fantasies has come to life in front of him, the whining sound of his name from your lips music to his ears.

You babble and squirm, your orgasm approaching you much faster than it has ever before. There’s something so jarring and new about the video that flashes in front of your eyes, and combining that with your best friend playing you not much differently than he’d played his game not long before made you feel like you were losing your grip on reality.

You’re vaguely aware that your hand flexes around his length, and fear that maybe your hold may be too rough immediately leaving your mind when you hear him let out a pleased groan. The sound also momentarily replaces the fear that filled you from actually looking at the boy that sits next to you, and you feel your head jerking to look at his face scrunched in pleasure.

The wind is knocked from your lungs when your eyes meet his again, neither of your stares faltering like you assumed they would. Instead the eye contact encourages you both, and you feel your hands pick up their pace.

You thank the universe for Yangyang’s reflexes as he finds no trouble in following your antsy jerking hips, his fingers never shifting away from your buzzing clit. He’s also completely unfazed as your thighs clamp around his wrist, and instead his now free hand moves to grab at your knee that’s closest to him, and pull harshly to hold your legs spread.

The angle his body is now turned leaves him leaning on his side, and he shows no hesitation to using the new position to his advantage as he begins thrusting his hips to fuck your fist.

You feel as if there’s another force around you that forces you to stare at one another, your hands and hips becoming frantic as you both inch closer and closer to your finish.

The video had ended moments before, but neither of you move to choose another. Too distracted by the other bodies, both of your breaths pick up right before the point of hyperventilating.

You feel yourself right on the edge, the beginning of your orgasm making your toes curl and your back arch off the back of the chair. Just from the stimulation on your clit, you can feel yourself falling, but when he notices that you’re starting to crumble, his fingers slip down until they push into you making you gasp loudly.

With his middle and ring finger pistoning in you at the same pace as his hips and the heel of his hand digging and rubbing into your clit, you finally start to come. If it wasn’t for his determined pace, your fluttering walls would push him out, but he fights against your body with a deep grunt as he curls the digits to pull against the nerve inside you that makes your eyes roll back into your skull.

With your mouth hanging open, silent moans and squeaking whimpers popping from your throat, he’s sure he stares at a defiled angel. He knew he always found you attractive, even more attractive when you first took his raunchy jokes in stride, but as you come so beautifully around his fingers, he decides you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

Just watching your come is enough to push him over the edge, but as it makes your muscles tense, your hand flexes and shakes as you hold him. With a few more pulses of his hips, he’s coming with his lip tucked between his teeth and his eyes trained on where you wrap around his fingers, your noise of surprise at the feeling of his come shooting across your hand only making his orgasm stronger.

With shaking legs, he falls back into his chair, his hand pulling from your sensitive skin, and his softening length slipping from your fingers.

Silence falls over the room, the only sound being the angry sound of his computer's fan and your evening breaths. You pull your limbs into your body as you try to get more comfortable in the seat, and as you try to wrap your arms around yourself, you notice the evidence of his orgasm that sticks to the side of your hand.

You’re moving before you can even think about your actions or how weird they could be to the boy next to you, your hand lifting up to your face and you tongue peaking out to lick at the sticky substance. You jerk slightly at the taste, but in a thought of self challenge and a simple ‘fuck it,’ you slide the flat of your tongue up the side of your hand, collecting everything he left behind, before swallowing deeply.

You hear a muffled sound of surprise to your side, the sound making your head whip to the side as you remembered your possible audience. Your heart beats fast as you panic at the idea of him finding your action gross, but as you look you see him in a very similar position.

Yangyang grins around his fingers that were once drenched in your orgasm, but now sit licked clean in his teasing mouth. There’s a slight popping noise as he pulls them hesitantly from his lips, and his devious smile only grows before he speaks.

“Oh so we’re both like gross, gross huh?”

#nct smut #wayv smut #yangyang smut #nct imagine #wayv imagine

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qlala · 3 years

Note

Is it cheating to submit a fic request for the pride post you just made? I neeeed the whole thing (I'm on my laptop, but insert the big gay eyes emoji)

fjskdgjslg "big gay eyes emoji" you know what? just for you. just for you i have written this. i'll clean it up and upload to ao3 later but for now: have 2.7k of len dragging a sunburnt, tipsy, and glitter-covered barry back to his apartment, and happy pride!

Len wasn’t the type to begrudge anyone a good time, especially when the good time involved loud music, leather harnesses, and throwing water bottles at cops. Central City’s annual pride parade came as close as it got to challenging that attitude; families, fellow queers, and queens descended on the city waving more flags than the United Nations after a hurricane, all decked out in color combinations that Len hadn’t been able to keep straight since the ‘80s.

The end result was the kind of crowds that could make a grown man feel claustrophobic in the middle of a city block, and that was without the visible haze of alcohol wafting off the whole event.

But what the parade lacked in personal space, it made up for with one very important commodity: unattended wallets.

The flock of sunburnt twinks in denim cut-offs made Len’s job almost too easy—a hand on a sweat-slicked lower back, a flash of blue eyes, and most of them wouldn’t have noticed their wallets going missing if Len had dangled their IDs in front of their faces afterwards. (While there were plenty of women dressed in just as little clothing whom Len certainly wouldn’t have minded getting within robbing distance of, he’d found queer women as a group to be less enthusiastic about uninvited touching and more enthusiastic about wallet chains, even when three sheets to the wind off of canned rosé.)

He’d taught a dozen visiting suburbanites the importance of not keeping valuables in their back pockets by the time he spotted a familiar profile in the crowd.

His usual red getup wasn’t much more modest than some of the outfits Len had already seen, but even knowing the shape of that body didn’t prepare Len for seeing Barry Allen stripped to the waist, bright-eyed and flushed and shimmering all over with a fine dusting of glitter. Len noted, on auto-pilot, that it didn’t seem like he’d put any of the glitter there himself; he was standing dangerously close to a drag queen throwing handfuls of the stuff on anyone who got within arm’s reach of her. It set the sun refracting off every dip and plane of muscle across Barry’s chest and stomach. Barry’s hair, already wild and dark at the roots with sweat, was full of it.

Len’s feet were carrying him closer before he gave himself permission to move. Barry managed to drag Len into his orbit at the best of times; visibly tipsy and dripping sweat, Len would’ve had better luck resisting the turning of the earth.

Up close, Len could take that Barry had lost his shirt somewhat recently; the slight touch of pink spanning his shoulders and chest had nothing on the serious flush across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. He had a spray of new freckles as well. They were barely distinguishable under the haze of glitter stuck to his skin, but Len noticed them at once, the change unmistakable on an otherwise unchanging face (not a scar to be seen, even after three years of running into burning buildings and jumping in front of bullets; Len was equal parts frustrated and relieved).

It looked like someone had painted a few strokes of color across one of his cheeks at some point, but it was smudged to hell and back. The back of one of Barry’s hands was stained a tell-tale matching purple, and Len could only guess at what it had been at the start of the day.

He stepped into Barry’s space as easily as he had the rest, taking care to keep Barry between him and the source of the glitter, and hesitated for the briefest moment with his hand above Barry’s spine. He’d never touched Barry like this, skin to skin; the gloves had never come off between them, metaphorically or literally. Kept things neat.

Nothing about Barry was neat right now. He turned even before Len touched him, and the movement brought Len’s hand into contact with his side instead. It took everything in Len not to pull it back in a flinch, and he met Barry’s curious glance with a tightly-controlled smirk.

He’d expected Barry to step back, maybe add a bit of blush to those already-pink cheeks. Instead, Barry’s eyes took a belated second to focus, and then he gave Len a face-splitting grin.

“Snart!”

That time, Len did have to pull backwards to avoid Barry dragging him in for a hug. To think he’d been concerned about a hand.

Barry didn’t seem the least bit put out, smiling loose and easy like Len hadn’t iced him to the door of a bank vault the last time they’d seen each other. He hadn’t taken Barry for such a cheerful drunk—he seemed inclined toward melodrama on a good day—but Len would take it over any of the alternatives.

“Barry. Fancy seeing you here. And so much of you, at that.” He let his gaze slide down his bare chest and stomach, pulse ticking up at the warm brown of his nipples and the sharp vee of his hipbones that invited his gaze further down.

“You’re overdressed,” Barry disagreed. He wasn’t quite slurring, but there was a careful deliberation in his tone that told Len it was a near thing. He took a step closer and peered at Len, suspicion evident in those pale green eyes. “And… sober.”

“I’m not here to score. Perks include keeping my shirt on.”

For the briefest second, Barry looked almost disappointed. But it was gone in a blink, confusion taking over. He glanced down at himself, puzzled. Then his expression cleared, and he looked up with another easy-going smile. “I got hot.” His gaze dropped again, to Len this time, and he licked his lips. “Aren’t you… you gotta be hot in all that.”

Len was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and thin jacket, and it hadn’t hit eighty degrees all week. But he wasn’t in the mood to argue with drunk logic. And besides, another scan of the nearby revelers had made something unpleasant begin to scratch insistently at the inside of Len’s chest, and he tapped Barry under the chin with one knuckle to bring his attention back up.

The contact startled both of them—Len’s control had slipped, something he could not afford to happen around Barry Allen—but Len recovered first. “Where’s the rest of your team of do-gooders?”

“Lost ‘em.” Judging by the return of Barry’s crooked grin, it was an accomplishment, not a concern. “Cisco said the shot was too strong, but I didn’t wanna go. He’s the d…” He faltered, brows pulling together as he frowned. “S’the designed. Designinated, superhero, anyway. Shh!”

He shot a pointer finger toward Len in a movement that Len clocked, alarmingly, as intending to be pressed to his lips, as if he were the one who’d been chatting about Vibe’s secret identity. Len had three years of dealing with the Flash to thank for being able to catch Barry’s wrist in time to stop him, and he glared at him for the attempt.

But Barry only gave him a crinkle-eyed smile and twisted his hand in Len’s grip to clasp his wrist back. “S’so good to see you here. I didn’t think…”

“Don’t tell me you had me pegged for straight.”

Barry made a frankly insulting noise halfway between a scoff and a hiccup and tilted Len a condescending look.

“Speedster, remember?” he asked, far too loudly, even for a crowd currently screaming along to a pop song that’d been bad enough the first time Len’d heard it in 2000. “I see it when you...” He let go of Len’s wrist to make a gesture with two fingers, parting them in a V and sweeping them up and down Len’s body, the muscles in his forearm shifting distractingly under Len’s hand. God, the kid had to be a hundred degrees. “When you check me out. In the suit.”

Len smirked. “It’s cute you thought I was being subtle.”

“You’re cute,” Barry muttered, childish and sulky, and Len took it for the compliment it wasn’t.

“You had a point, Barry.”

Barry still looked displeased with him, but his brow was furrowed again when he met his gaze. This close, it was impossible to ignore that Barry had an inch or so on him. “About what?”

“You didn’t think…?” Len prompted him.

Barry stared at him blankly, and Len rolled his eyes and let go of his wrist.

“Get out of the sun, Barry,” he said. “Find a park bench. Wait for your little friends to come find you. Shouldn’t be hard—you’re as red as your suit.”

Barry either ignored his last comment or didn’t hear it. “Iris is here somewhere,” he said, possibly to himself. “She’s…” He twirled his finger absently beside his head. “Curly, today. And… bikini.”

Len strongly considered abandoning Barry to his sunburn to go find out for himself. But Barry was beginning to sway a bit, and a man closer to Len’s age than Barry’s was giving Barry’s toned back a speculative look from a few feet away, and Len gave in to the unsettled feeling gnawing at his ribcage. He refused to call it worry. It was annoyance—or, at the very least, the feeling was annoying him, which was close enough.

“As much a sight for sore eyes as that would be,” he said, allowing a magnanimousness he didn’t feel to color his tone, “I doubt Miss West ran away from her group and got heatstroke. Unlike some people”

Barry didn’t look the least bit chastened, lips curving up mischievously in a way that drew another couple interested looks. Len needed to get them both out of the crowd before he started breaking noses.

“Tell you what. Give Cisco a call, tell him you went home. My bike’s on Kingsbridge, away from the parade route.”

Barry’s smirk sharpened. “Trying to get me out of here, Snart? I thought you weren’t here to score.”

Len gave him a flat look, ignoring the decidedly interested way his body was reacting to Barry’s tone.

“You can barely stand.”

Barry’s eyes glittered at the challenge, and Len realized his mistake.

“Barry—”

He hadn’t even finished biting out the second syllable when the world spun out from under him, the noise and the heat and the press of the crowd swallowed up in a hair-raising charge of yellow lightning. Exactly two and a half seconds passed in a blur of movement, just long enough for Len to realize Barry was supporting the back of his head with one too-warm hand. Then the world came skidding to a stop around them. Barry’s momentum carried them both forward several feet even after their new surroundings materialized, and they very nearly went straight through a window again before Barry seemed to remember how to stop.

Len considered pushing him out the window anyway for the stunt. True, he’d been itching to get another taste of that feeling, the ozone snap-drag of Barry’s power like a live wire under his hands, but he’d rather have waited until Barry could pass a breathalizer.

He realized Barry still had an arm around him and shoved him off. It did nothing to dim Barry’s self-satisfied grin, and Len had to look away or risk giving into the interested once-over Barry was skimming over his body again.

“Pretty sure the point of a designated driver is not doing that.”

Barry followed him when he took a step back. Len made a calculated decision, decided the risk of touching Barry again was worth it, and pressed his fingers to the middle of Barry’s chest—right where the Flash insignia would be on his suit, his brain offered unhelpfully—and pushed him backwards, hard.

Barry unbalanced and wheeled back a step. Then the backs of his knees hit the edge of the couch, and he toppled, satisfyingly, back onto the dark leather cushions.

It was a nice couch. The whole apartment was nice, actually. Len could’ve drawn a perimeter of possible locations based on Barry’s speed and how long it had taken them to reach it if he hadn’t already known the address.

“Sit,” he said. And then, with a smirk: “Stay.”

Barry rolled his eyes. “Gonna have to ask nicer than that if you wanna boss me around in bed.”

The way he threw it out there, easy as anything, almost made Len miss a step as he turned away. He wasn’t going to lay a hand on Barry, not when he was drunk on sunlight and skin and whatever concoction Cisco had apparently cooked up for him. But hearing him say it, like they’d already gotten all of the messy parts out of the way—it set off warning bells in Len’s head, flashing past all the possible off-ramps he would’ve taken if Barry had ever tried to have the conversation in a more linear fashion.

“You’re drunk,” Len said, which was a coward’s answer, and behind him, Barry made a vague noise of agreement.

“Probably,” he acknowledged. “You could stick around ‘til I’m not.”

Christ. Len didn’t trust himself to look at Barry again, not when he knew he’d find him sprawled out and shedding glitter all over what had looked like a very expensive couch. “Stay,” he repeated, and went off to find the kitchen.

By the time he got back with two glasses of water, the problem had solved itself; Barry was out cold on the couch, his painting cheek pressed to the throw pillow he’d curled himself half-around. He was shivering faintly in the air conditioning, all cooled sweat and goosebumps, and Len resigned himself to the now-familiar impulse to help him that stirred in his chest. He put one of the glasses down on the table and, not trusting his hands, knocked his knee into one of Barry’s where it was bent close to the edge of the couch.

Barry buried his face into the pillow with a noise of displeasure, and Len said his name again.

“Last warning,” Len said. “Ten seconds, you find out if I put on steel-toed boots today.”

Barry groaned, and if the sound hadn’t made Len’s pulse skip, the easy shift of muscles in Barry’s arm as he pushed himself up to sitting again would’ve done the trick.

“Water,” Len said, unnecessarily, as he passed him the glass.

Barry took it with the tips of his fingers, as if it were something personally offensive to him, and took a single, polite sip before putting it down beside the other with no small amount of distaste. Then he glanced between the glasses, and up at Len, a dirty spark already lighting behind his eyes again.

“Don’t get your hopes up. They’re both for you.”

Barry let out a breath with audible annoyance and dropped back against the couch cushions to glare at him.

Len felt a modicum of sanity return to him. This, at least, was familiar ground: Barry, frustrated, asking for too much, too soon. True, it had always been about the hero business until now, but Len knew a pattern when he saw one. Give Barry an inch, and he always took a mile.

Len gave Barry one last, appraising look. He looked ridiculous, all self-righteousness and bare skin. There was only one break in the otherwise even coat of glitter, there on Barry’s side: faint, but unmistakable, the outline of Len’s hand on his waist. The feeling in Len’s chest coalesced into something pleased and possessive. He met Barry’s glare with a slow curl of his lips, then gave him an inch.

“Call me when you’re sober, Barry,” he said, letting his voice slip into the Cold drawl just to watch Barry’s eyes go dark. “And you can show me how well you sit up and beg.”

He could see the impatience radiating off of Barry’s frame, the effort it was taking him to stay on the couch instead of closing the space between them.

“Call your friends,” he reminded him. “Enough people got a look at your face today without the CCPD splashing it on every milk carton, too.”

In the elevator, Len reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the thin black wallet he’d liberated from Barry during their sprint across the city. Two and a half seconds: child’s play. A little extra incentive for Barry to track him down in the morning, not that Len thought he needed it. He flipped it open, noted the deer-in-the-headlights picture of Barry on his driver’s license with amusement, and then thumbed open the bill compartment.

Len smirked. Barry wouldn’t miss a few dollars; he owed him for the dry-cleaning it was gonna take to get the glitter out of his jacket, anyway.

#coldflash #leonard snart #barry allen #the flash #my fics #is 10 pm on a tuesday peak posting time? no! is it when i finished this? yes!#also this is blatantly nyc pride sorry #write what you know etc

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triple-hbk · 3 years

Text

This Isn't Everything You Are- Part 4

Part One Part Two Part Three You've been up all night, and the night before, You've lost count of drinks and time.

Blood dribbled down Shawn chin as they got outside of the bar. Shawn pushed himself away from Hunter and spat out a mouthful of blood onto the ground.

The hotel wasn't far away, a couple of blocks but Hunter didn't know if Shawn would make it. He didn't ask him he just followed Shawn's lead. If he looked like he was struggling, they could get a cab.

Shawn wiped a hand across his face, smearing blood over himself in his attempt to clean himself up. Blood was already trickling back to replace fluid, dripping down his chin and onto the ground, unseen in the dim light. Hunter wasn't in the mood to talk. Too many nights like this. Shawn had been mentioning his back hurting for a while now. Maybe a niggle at first. But it became something that started to wear on him a little. He took more pills for it until he had that fateful casket match. Hunter had seen the impact and worried, but Shawn seemed to be okay. The match carried on as planned and Shawn barely mentioned it in passing backstage.

But then he heard the news. Shawn's back was fucked was the only way to put it.

Vince had pulled him from the In Your House pay-per-view and the next stop was WrestleMania 14. Drop the belt to Austin and then.... well that was the thing. No one knew what was next. Shawn didn't have a clue what he was going to do. Vince didn't suggest any way in using Shawn but did say they'd work things out but Vince was adamant that Shawn should have a break for a while, work on his back and see what happened. So that's where they were. Shawn wasn't wrestling, but he was still required for TV appearances now and then, but things were bad. Shawn looked bad. Physically, he was in great shape. He'd been working to make himself stronger to get through the match and Hunter had never seen Shawn so physically looking fit and toned. But Hunter hated looking at him these days, at his face, in his eyes. He looked tired from too many late nights drinking, from passing out rather than going to sleep. His face was puffy from drinking too much, his eyes a soulless mess, blank and barely hiding the misery inside of him. Shawn couldn't stand thinking about what was ahead for him, so Shawn obliterated himself into drink and drugs constantly.

Tonight, he'd only just started. Hunter knew the routine. Because of the fight, Shawn would go to his hotel room and clean himself up, with Hunter's help. Then it'd be back to the bar for the rest of the night until they wouldn't serve him any more. Invariably, he'd pass out at some point and Hunter would struggle to get him back up to the hotel room. He remembered the physical strain of moving Shawn alone those first few times until one of the hotel staff took pity on him and offered the luggage trolley. He'd felt a little apprehensive. He imagined Shawn finding out what he'd done the following morning and losing his mind over it.

But in the end, it was the best he could do. It was wheel him up on a trolley or drag him around like a corpse.

And the reality was, he knew Shawn wouldn't actually remember anything, or ask questions. Every night they were together, he felt a little resentment build up in him.

He couldn't understand how hard it must be to be told you had to retire when you weren't ready. Shawn was only in his early 30's and that wasn't the time for careers to be over. He knew that it was hard and painful to accept but Shawn had to start accepting it. Instead, Shawn was getting reckless. With himself, with people around him. He lashed out at Vince a lot and Hunter had seen the man bite his tongue more often. And Hunter knew why. He'd spoke to Vince about things one week when Shawn was off. All he needed to do was put up with all the tantrums until they got to Wrestlemania and then, well, once Shawn wasn't the champion, and couldn't wrestle what power could he weld over Vince? The way Shawn was going, Hunter wouldn't be surprised if they weren't keen to wash their hands of him as soon as they could.

Shawn stopped walking abruptly.

“You gonna hurl?” Hunter asked, ready to step out of the way.

“I need to sit,” he said and headed to the steps leading to the doorway of a restaurant that was closed for the night.

He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out his painkillers, dry swallowed them though not before he'd spat out another mouthful of blood.

Shawn closed his eyes, waiting for them to take effect and Hunter saw that look of genuine pain on Shawn's face, the one that he was prescribed the pills for in the first place. It made him feel sick when he truly thought about it.

As crazy as Shawn drove him, not having him there any longer would be weird. But he couldn't go on like this forever. One of them would snap.

And really, he didn't want him to go. This wasn't how this whole DX thing was supposed to go. He had so many ideas for them, things he hadn't discussed with Shawn, things that died the second he heard about Shawn's injury.

Shawn winced a little as he sat there. “What's wrong?” Hunter asked.

“Nuffin' jus' havin' a lil' spasm. It'll pass in a minute,” Shawn said.

Guilt gnawed at Hunter as he waited silently for Shawn to recover. He remembered a conversation he had with Kevin a couple of weeks ago when he'd had a tough week with Shawn and he'd unloaded a little more than he'd intended. He knew he'd sounded ungrateful and was bitching about Shawn and he hadn't wanted to, but he was hard work sometimes and he was tired of it. Of literally carrying Shawn.

Kevin had been his usual calm self, told him to hang in there and in a few weeks, he'd get his break from Shawn. He told Hunter it'd probably be good for Shawn to get away from the routine for a while and not to worry.

It had helped.

He looked to Shawn to see his friends eyes upon him. Scrutinising him. “What?” Hunter asked defensively, as though Shawn knew he'd had those bad thoughts about him a few weeks ago.

Shawn looked away. “Nothin'. Jus gonna miss all this.”

“It's not over,” Hunter said. “Rehab your back. Surgery if you have to, but you can come back.”

Shawn stood up. “If I can't wrestle, I don't wanna be here any more,” he said and started walking again. Continuing on the path back to their hotel.

Hunter watched him for a moment, wondering if he meant on the road with him, or just in general.

#fanfic #wwe #wrestling fiction #Shawn Michaels #triple H #friendship #DX #bromance

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enigma-im · 4 years

Text

Sucker Punched pt.2

Rating:Explicit Relationship: Alien X Female!Human Warning: Dirty talk, strong language, Alien/human relationship, alien sex

Word Count:4055

Pt. 1

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

We soon part ways as our responsibilities drive us. He to fuck about doing whatever it is he does outside of groping me, I to finish up work before heading back to my place. My small one-bedroom, two-room home. Bigger than most, having the perk of being faculty, but smaller than anything earth could have given me. The large living room is nice to divide the space between the front door and where I sleep. I truly feel for the people who don't have that luxury. It feels too unsafe to be comfortable.

I fiddle about with a quick shower and a change of clothes, completely forgetting about Kurt for the time. It's not till I hear a rather intimidating knock at the door so I remember our plans. Cursing to myself I throw on a shirt before heading into the living room.

He pounds on the door again," For fuck sakes, hold on." I angrily right my clothes, untucking my hair, before grabbing the handle. I thrust the door open, my hair billowing in the breeze. I glare out at the tall buff alien who fills my doorway-perhaps the hallway as well. His teeth are poking through his small smirk, giving him a dorky charm. Kurt eyes me from head to toe, not hiding his appreciations though I lack effort in my outfit.

"Beautiful as ever, though I know you never disappoint," he raises a brow. It's still strange to hear him speak English, though its through a translator. I find I miss the rough tone of his normal language, it never failing to send chills down my spine. Then again, who isn't a sucker for a deep voice?

"Flattery will get you nowhere," I scoff.

"I find the crimson hue of your cheeks to be something, like an incentive really," he tilts forward. The alien towers over me like no other, feeling like he is boxing me in with just his height. I find myself leaning towards him despite his natural intimidation.

"If I knew you were this much of a flirt I would have forgone getting our translators fixed."

"Oh, prefer my other attempts of getting into your pants better?"

"So confident that you could get into my pants? A flirt and cocky, how unattractive."

"the lies you spill from your mouth almost mask the arousal that practically oozes from you when I'm around," he quickly grasps the doorframe as he leans in close," Admit it, love, you want me bad." his proximity short-circuits my brain for a moment, just long enough for him to chuckle. I can smell his musk, it muddling my brain as he presses a gentle, loud kiss to my cheek. I can't help but sigh in defeat, the bastard has me there.

I take a step back from him, his glare following me as I turn towards the kitchen. I stop at the fridge, glancing over at the frowning Kurt still perched at the door.

"Well, come in. I rather not have my coworkers question while a nearly 7ft alien is guarding my doorway," I grin. He huffs, dropping his head with a shake before coming over. He closes the door behind himself, walking towards the couch to plop down. I look through the fridge for literally anything to eat. Never entertaining guests before now seems to have hindered my dinner plans.

I settle on some bullshit microwave dinners, almost mortified in having to do so. While they 'cook' I lean against the counter to watch Kurt. For a moment he looks around the space, not really reacting to anything. Once he grew bored he turns to me. He cocks a brow in question.

"I believe I was promised some wooing," I break the silence.

"Was what I said at the door not enough," he answers. I scoff at his response, turning back to the meals. Perhaps he was all talk and no action. How disappointing, I expected a lot more from him. I won't lie and say he hasn't grown on me, like a tumor. Being a constant thorn in my side has proven fruitful in his quest for my affection, but if he intends to be a stick in the mud then I have to quarrels tossing him to the side.

I barely hear him when he sneaks up behind me, cupping my hips as his groin meets my back. I bite my cheek to not respond, way too curious to see where this is going. I feel his breath on my neck, raising my hairs as he exhales near my ear.

"Since the day we met, I have not stopped thinking about you. You have invaded everything I do. When I sleep, I see your face. I dream of your curves against mine, feel your skin under my lips. Every night I have felt your sweet caress to my cock, on the verge of climax just as I wake. I think I can escape you in my wake but my thoughts only flow for you. I can only ponder how you would taste. Would you be sweet like I imagine, would you cum like how I picture," he licks just behind my ear," are these words good enough for you? I am not a romantic man, but you bring me to my knees and make me wanna do things I never even considered before."

I stutter on a breath, gnawing on my cheek," l-like what?" He grinds into me, pressing his hardening cock against my lower back. He thrills me more as he reaches under my shirt to palm my stomach. I can't bring myself to move, barely making a sound as he licks and nibble. Kurt teases my neck with his tusk before pressing the blunt tips to my skin, dimpling the area enough to wretch a gasp from me.

"I can smell your cunt," he purrs as his hands trail up. His fingertips barely touch my bra when I choke on a inhale. The anticipation of having his large palms on me almost takes my breath away. He chuckles huskily in my ear, rubbing his cheek to mine as he leans over to watch himself. He slowly slides his fingers under my cups, teasing the skin as he engulfs my breast. I'm sure he can feel my heart beating fast against my ribs, thumping loudly near his fingers. He hums as he palms and squeezes me. I sigh, falling against him. My head rests on his shoulder, tilting for his lingering kisses.

We both startle as the microwave beeps. I stand straight, suddenly ripped from the haze of building tension. He freezes as I do, his hands slowly trailing down as he worries about my next reaction. I look up at the meals resting in the finished device. I then look down at my clenched hands, finally noticing the throbbing between my legs and the hardon pressed to my back. I chew my lip in thought, really thinking hard on saying 'forget dinner'.

Before I can overthink this I tear his hands from my shirt and twist in his hold. I look up at his startled face, nearly laughing at his wide-eyed expression. I cast a glance at the tent in his pants, grinning as I meet his eyes. Quickly I leap and grab his horn, jerking him closer to my level with a Cheshire grin.

"Are you going to ravish me like I deserve, I refuse to waste my time with unworthy men," I ask near his lips. He looks a bit dazed as he stares down at my mouth.

"Yes," he answers.

"I demand you take me to my room before I change my mind then. I expect nothing but the best, understood?"

His lips part as he meets my eyes with wonder," Yes, ma'am." Fast as lightning he scoops me up in his strong arms and whisks me away to the bedroom, meals left forgotten.

Kurt attacks my lips while maneuvering in the dark. His hands on my thighs are scorching, also helpful in my grinding against his stomach. I fist his hair, twisting his head to delve my tongue into his mouth. His groans muddle my brain, throwing my thoughts in disarray.

I'm startled when he tilts forward. I panic, grabbing his shoulder tightly as my back suddenly meets the bed. His chuckle against my neck annoys me, taking me away from the lust riddled thinking I was drowning in before. As his tongue slathers up my neck I grab his horn, dragging him up.

"Yes," he asks displeased," do I need to woo you with more words, or am I free to satisfy my curiosity?"

I snort," Curiosity?" His fangs poke through his smile, a purr rolling out between his lips.

"I'm quite interested in seeing if you match the women of my kind," he lowers down to press a teasing kiss to my jaw.

"How about we don't talk about other women while in bed," I pull him back again. His cocky grin drops to another annoyed grimace.

"We can just not talk at all, that seems to be a safe bet," he suggests, wiggling his horn out of my hold. His lips press just above my shirt collar, his teeth dimpling my skin as he nibbles. The tips of his fingers tease around the end of my shirt, trailing his claw along the slightly revealed flesh.

I can hardly think of a snarky response, completely invested in his attentions. His tongue on my neck and his hands palming my hips. My nails dig into his shoulders, scratching down to his elbows.

"Ku-," I'm interrupted by a bell. We both pause in confusion till a loud knocking follows. I sigh, sitting up. Kurt quickly grabs me, keeping me where I am.

"No, ignore it," he growls. He quiets my protests by pulling my hips into his, grinding his hard-on against me. A thrill shoots up my spine, muddling any thoughts of the door.

"Hello," I faintly hear a voice call from outside the room. I freeze again, grabbing at Kurt. He tries to bring my attention back to him, biting at my shoulder.

"Just real quick," I smile apologetically. He answers with a growl, bucking his hips more. Fed up I grab his horn and drag him away. "real quick," I scold. He huffs then sighs before rolling off.

I hop out of bed, a wiggle in my step. I share in Kurt's frustrations, stomping towards the door with frustration. I rip open the door, already fed up with the upcoming conversation.

"Hello," the slim techie from the other day answers. His appearance at my door is startling enough to erase my ire.

"Hey," I respond confused," What are you doing here?"

"Just checking in. The update was sent out yesterday and I was hoping to get input on it," he answers.

"Works well enough, I haven't had any issues with it. I have to agree with you though, Kurt has a 'way' with words," I chuckle.

He laughs as well," He was a bit too vulgar for my taste. It brought on a very awkward situation."

As we talk I faintly hear steps behind me. My suspicions are verified when the techie tenses up. He looks over my shoulder, giving an uncomfortable smile.

"Seeso," Kurt growls.

"Ker'chak," Techie answers," How is your translator h-holding up?"

"Good," Kurt sneers," feel free to leave now."

"Kurt," I scold," chill out." Kurt continues sneering at the poor lad, not doing anything to hold back his anger at the man's presence.

"Alright then," Kurt grabs my hips, pulling me to his chest," Seeso I wish to get back to wooing my woman and you standing here is preventing that so I say nicely, piss off." before either one of us can answer Kurt slams the door shut and lifts me off my feet.

"That was rude as hell, you couldn't wait, like, five minutes," I slap his chest.

"I am extremely hard right now so excuse me for being a little impatient," he chuffs. I snort, stretching up to bite his neck. I tighten till he hisses.

"Good things come to those who wait," I press a kiss to my teeth marks.

He groans," And you can't get what you don't take."

Kurt tosses me onto the bed, quickly climbing over me. He doesn't take his time, ripping my shirt off swiftly to lather attention on my breast. His sharp tusk pricks my skin as he sucks on a nipple. I pet his hair back from his face, watching him. His eyes open to meet mine, growling as his swirls his tongue.

"You are quite handsome, I'll admit," I hum. His sudden purr startles me, along with the pinching of his claws on my thighs.

"Well thank you," he mumbles, pressing wet kisses to my chest.

I chuckle at his excitement, fisting his hair before pushing him down my body. He resists a bit to press his lips down a line of my stomach. He crawls off the bed and onto his knee. As he reaches my pants he nuzzles his cheek to my hips. His purrs increase, his hands massaging my thighs.

"Fuck," I groan," stop, it's too cute."

"Cute," he scoffs," No one has ever accused me of being cute." he unbuttons my pants, tugging them down my legs.

"Well you are, so get used to that," I tease. He hums in thought, a small smile ghosting his lips.

"As long as you are the only one saying it then I guess its fine," he mumbles. Before I can tease some more he tugs off my underwear. "Speaking of cute," he smirks. The smug smile makes me roll my eyes, biting off a chuckle.

"Yea, yea," I scoot out of his hold," Get on your back."

"Oh my back," he quirks a brow," now why should I do that?"

"Because I said so," I shrug. From his place on the floor, he rests his chin on the bed, grinning that mischievous smile.

"Since when did you become the boss," he says. I regard him with a teasing smirk. I crawl towards him, grabbing his horn to draw him back.

"Since I decked you in the face, now get on the bed big boy," I press a swift kiss to his lips," I'll make it worth your while."

He hums," When you put it like that." Kurt crawls onto the bed, resting on his back with his hands behind his head. He smirks down at me, tilting his head. "Now what, my sexy female?" I don't answer, instead of crawling up his body. I sit on his upper chest, looking down at him between my knees. I pet at his face as he looks from me to my crotch then back.

"this my prize for following orders? Feels more like a prize for you," he looks back at my crotch, licking his lips despite his words. I pet his bottom lip, pressing my thumb into his mouth. He wastes no time sucking on it.

"What? Don't want my cute pussy on your cute face," I quirk a brow. He nibbles on my thumb before pushing it out of his mouth. He presses one kiss to it then grabs my thighs.

"Well when you put it like that," he chuckles. I yelp when he quickly drags me over his face. Wasting no time delving between my folds with his tongue. At his first taste, he groans loudly, his hips bucking behind me.

"I'll take it you’re a fan," I huff, petting his head.

"I will dine on you every night as long as you stay wet just for me," he growls, licking another stripe. His fingers dig into my skin, showing off his enjoyment. As he laps at me I can't help but grind into him, biting back groans and cries of pleasure. His teeth poking at the cleft of my thighs adds a certain thrill to all this. His alien-ness becoming extremely apparent now. I look down at him between my legs, his eyes closed in pure enjoyment.

I find myself leaning back, holding onto his raised knees. I watch him, enraptured at his monstrous appearance. Moans leave me lips, my insides burning only for him.

"Kurt," I groan," you look so sexy like this." his eyes creak open a moment.

"You should speak for yourself," he hums. My hips grind on his mouth, a cry ripping from my throat.

"I'm close," I lean back up. I grab onto his horns, pulling him into my thrusts. His hands slide from my thighs to my ass, guiding my grinds. As his fingers knead my skin I burst. I shout, throwing my head back as I yell into the room. He purrs under me, lapping up every drop as I cum for him.

I nearly fall into the wall, barely catching myself on my hand. I pant, resting my head onto the cold wall. Catching my breath I look down at Kurt, smiling at his wide grin.

"You look so happy," I mumble. He kisses my mound.

"Of course," he answers. He adjusts me down his chest, sitting up to hold me close. He rubs my back, kissing my lips.

Once I come back to myself I react to his attention. I pull him into a strong kiss, delving my tongue into his mouth as I pull on his hair. His cock pokes excessively against my ass.

"Your turn," I grin. He hums before I push him back onto the bed. I crawl between his legs, grabbing at his pants. The anticipation builds as my curiosity peaks. What could he look like?

At my hesitation, he speaks," You good?" I bite my lip. Instead of answering I tug his pants down. His cock immediately slaps back against his stomach, then bobbing just over it.

His cock is fairly thick, long but his girth is more attention-grabbing. Along his shaft are nubs that really pique my interest. I grab him, huffing at his growl. I thumb the numbs, noticing their firmness. I slide up him, pinching at his spear-like tip.

"Interesting," I mumble to myself.

Kurt's head pops up," What?" his nerves revealed in his tone. I sit down on my stomach between his legs, pumping his cock a few times as I look up at him.

"Don't worry, it's a good interesting. You are fucking lovely," I kiss his shaft. He twitches in my hold, his head falling back as he purrs again. "You are all around the sexiest man I have ever been with," I smile. He groans again, bucking into my hand. I adore his reactions oh so much.

Too eager I wrap my lips around him, sucking on his tip as I jerk him off. His grunts fuel me, sending jolts of pleasure to my crotch. His taste is unlike human men, having a sweetness to it that I wasn't expecting. I choke him down into my mouth, feeling his tip hit the back of my throat. I bob, sucking on his cock with great interest. His noises grow in frequency, making me gain tempo.

As his hips begin to buck into me he lifts me from his cock. "Stop," he groans," stop." I rest my head on his thigh, watching him catch his breath. I trace a vein on his hip, grinning like a fool.

"Did ya like it," I ask. He tilts his head to look at me.

"Don't ask stupid questions and get on my lap," he pants. Instead of straddling him, I crawl up him, lying beside him on my back. He turns towards me confused.

"I want you to be on top," I shrug. He rolls his eyes, turning to crawl on top of me.

"I figured you would want to be on top," he leans down to trail kisses along my neck. I comb my fingers through his hair, my other hand reaching between us.

"Now why would you think that," I grab his girth, jerking him a bit. He doesn't answer, growling with his teeth bared. "Now, enough talking," I turn towards his ear, whispering," I want you inside me." he hisses, his tip prodding between my folds.

He presses in slowly, both of us feeling every thrilling inch. Our sigh of satisfaction when he settles to the hilt is echoing. We give each other a second, not wanting the moment to end so soon.

"Fuck," he pants," you are more perfect than I dreamed." he rolls his hips for emphasis. I hug him close.

"Yea," I huff," you too."

He chuckles," may I ravage you now?"

"Is that what you guys are calling it these days," I snort.

"shut up," he growls before pulling back and bucking forward. I choke on a gasp as he fills me so quickly. He repeats, thrusting hard and fast. His cock is as fulfilling as I hoped, his nubs rubbing splendidly against my walls. My arms wrap around his neck, pulling his body ever so close. My nails dig into his hard skin, almost piercing it.

He suddenly stills, his breath stuttering. "Maybe you shouldn't have sucked my dick," he laughs.

"Yea," I snort," you promised me a ravaging. we barely even started and you're ready to end it."

"Shut up," he pulls out, unwrapping my arms from around him. I watch him confused, almost disappointed. He slithers down my body between my legs where he presses his two fingers inside me. I sigh, straying off my future disappointment as he begins fingering me.

"stalling, big boy," I laugh. He doesn't answer, leaning down to suck my clit as his fingers glide in and out. His claws rake gently along my walls, tingling me with satisfaction. He rumbles with a purr, nibbling on my clit.

"K-Kurt," I grab his horn," I don't wanna cum on your face again." he withdraws his fingers, licking them clean before crawling back up. I grab his face as he nears, ready to tease him. He beats me to it, cupping his hand over my mouth.

"I underestimated you temptress," he nuzzles my cheek," now let's try this again." he thrusts in again with a strained groan. He bucks quickly, reaching down to rub at my clit to finish me off. The startling amount of pleasure makes me reach out and pull him close.

"Kurt, fuck," I cry out," I take it back, you are doing great." he curls on his next thrust, laughing as he does.

"yea, I'm close too," he kisses my cheek.

We both cry into each other, our hot breaths ghosting over the other's skin. I fall first, unsurprisingly. I clench him everywhere. Locking down on his cock, pulling him close with my arms. I shout out his name, rolling into a cry as he pulls out all of my pleasure.

He falls soon after, bucking wildly before stilling. Something hot leaks inside, pulsing with him. It paints my insides as his whole body tenses then relaxes.

"Bless the heavens," he captures my lips fiercely," and my the heavens bless you."

"That sounds like a great compliment," I kiss him back.

"Highest one I can think of right now," he laughs. He soon pulls out, the feeling of him spilling from inside me makes me shiver. He then rolls over, pulling me along. I rest on his chest, hooking a leg over his hips. He grabs my thigh, petting along it as we settle.

"so," he draws out. I look at him from the corner of my eye.

"so," I answer similarly to him.

"am I a keeper," he cocks a brow.

I hum," not sure yet. You still have to make me breakfast in the morning."

"damn," he looks to the ceiling," I'm a shit cook."

"Shame," I shrug," guess I will have to teach you another thing then."

"Another thing?"

"Don't worry about it," I tease. He turns in my hold, facing me dead on.

"Did you not like how I ravaged you," he asks. I shrug again. He answers with a growl, rolling us so I straddle his lap. He pets along my thighs. "I guess you will have to show me how it's done then," he teases. I lean down, pressing a kiss to his nose.

"I guess I will."

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

Finally, Jesus! It took me forever to write this.

Pt. 1

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main Blog

#monster boyfriend #alien boyfriend #large buff alien #alien x human #exophilia #Enigma-IM #sucker punched pt.2

331 notes · View notes

neo-couture · 5 years

Text

everything

Winwin was lying on his bed, conflicted. He’d overheard some of the boys talking about you and it got him thinking. He was a chronic over thinker, he’ll admit, but this was… different. It was something he was genuinely worried about because it involved you.

He’d overheard some of the members – Yuta, Johnny, and Lucas, he thinks – talking after they thought you and him had left for your date. Winwin went back for his jacket, but stopped in the hall when he heard their voices.

“Did you see her today? She looked fucking hot. Took all I had not to say something.” “She always looks hot.” “Wish I would’ve asked her out before Winwin because fuck.” “I know. Why do think I ask Winwin so many questions? I wanna know what it’s like to be with her, to be honest. I mean, I’d never do it, obviously, but what I wouldn’t give to fuck her, you know? Even just once. He’s so secretive though. But I guess I would be too, if I had someone like Y/N.” “Yeah. I just hope he fucks her good every day. Multiple times a day even.” Laughter. “A woman like that? She deserves the fucking best.”

Winwin rushed out without his jacket, not wanting to hear anymore of the conversation. You were waiting for him outside and frowned when he came out.

“You alright? And where’s your jacket?” you asked. He froze on the top step, gawking at you. Lips painted red, long, dark hair flowing down your back, and your bright eyes glittering like stars. He was looking at you in a new light; you were of course always beautiful to him but he hadn’t really considered that others felt that exact way about you. Sure, he knew guys looked at you but he hadn’t thought of the possibility of someone taking you away from him, and he wondered if he had been taking you for granted. Suddenly it hit him, really hit him, that you could literally have any guy you wanted, and that terrified him.

“Uh, yeah. And couldn’t find it, it’s fine.” You cocked your head and blinked, confused. He rushed to your side, arm around your waist to tug you down the path. “Let’s just go to dinner.”

A few days later, you both returned home after another dinner date. Winwin laid you down on his bed, hiked your dress up, and crawled between your legs. Was he making you feel as good as he could? Were you really your happiest with him? Would you be happier with someone else? Yuta, maybe? Or Johnny?

He was too in his head as he licked and sucked at your core. You tugged at his hair, urging him to look at you.

“Winwin, baby, are you alright? You’ve been off the past few days. You can tell me what’s going on. And if you don’t want to do this tonight, that’s totally fine. You know I’d understand, right?” Winwin felt a surge of affection for you, which only deepened his insecurities. He loved you so much and only wanted the best for you, but what if he wasn’t the best?

He crawled up next to you and curled his hands under his chin. You turned to face him and stroked his cheek lovingly.

“Am I- am I enough for you? Like, do I make you happy? Really happy?” Taken aback, you blinked and then frowned.

“Of course, you make me so happy. Why are you asking me that?”

“It’s just,” Winwin paused, licking his lips. “I love you so much, you know that right? And I want you to be happy, the happiest, because you deserve that. And I just- I don’t know if I’m good enough for you as a boyfriend, like with taking you on dates and you know, in bed and stuff. I just want you to have the best because that’s what you deserve.” He trailed off as he finished his sentence, avoiding eye contact with you.

You gave him a sad smile, before pulling him in for a deep kiss. “Baby, you are the best. I love you. I don’t want or need anyone else, you are more than enough for me and always will be. And as for the sex stuff, you definitely don’t have anything to worry about there.” You chuckled. Winwin laughed with you, but still looked uncertain, gnawing on his lip. “What can I do to make you believe me?” Winwin shrugged, and you sighed. “Well, how about I tell you as we go, kay? Get back down there and eat me out like I know you can.”

Winwin laughed and returned to his spot between your legs. He held your thighs as he licked a fat stripe against your core, lapping up your juices. He sucked at your clit, causing your hips to buck and you moaned loudly, fingers tangling in his hair. Knowing what you liked at this point, he slipped his tongue into your entrance, fucking you with it. You rolled your hips against his tongue while your free hand gripped the sheets tightly. Although he was thoroughly enjoying seeing you like this, a wave of insecurity washed over him and a little voice in his head told him you were just acting this way to make him feel better.

He pulled his tongue out and looked at you. You groaned in annoyance and shot him a questioning gaze. “Am I- is this good?”

“Oh my fucking god, Winwin, yes, it is fucking amazing. Please don’t stop or you’re gonna make me cry.” At this, Winwin chuckled, feeling better, and resumed fucking you with his tongue. He soon added a finger, and then another, fucking you until you were biting down on your hand, tears streaming down your face. Winwin felt a surge of confidence at this.

“Okay, okay. Get up here and fuck me please.” You grabbed at him and Winwin allowed himself to be pulled into your embrace. You littered his face with kisses in an attempt to encourage and reassure him.

Kissing your neck, he lined himself up with your entrance before pushing in slowly, careful not to hurt you. You let out a low groan as he bottomed out, clawing at his back. He kissed down your neck and reached for your hands as he always did. He may not always be verbally expressive with his emotions, but he always made small gestures, like holding your hands during sex, to show you. Your heart ached, both because you loved Winwin and also because it hurt you to see him doubt himself so much. All you wanted was for him to be happy, too.

You weren’t always verbally expressive either, it was one of the things you and Winwin bonded over, but you made sure to say what you were feeling. Telling him it felt good, that he always fucked you right, that his cock hit you in all the right places. Things you’d always thought but didn’t always say. You noticed, much to your delight, that Winwin seemed to become more confident as he went, and you wondered to yourself if maybe he had a bit of a thing for being praised. You smirked at this realization and made a mental note to make it a regular practice of yours.

“Oh fuck, that’s good,” you moaned after a particularly hard thrust.

“Is it?” he muttered in your ear.

“Yeah, yeah, baby, it’s so fucking good.” He picked up his pace, hand trailing down to your clit. “Fuck! God, that’s amazing. Don’t stop, don’t stop.”

Winwin rubbed at your clit, relishing in the fact that your thighs began to tremble where they were clenched around his waist. Tears fell from your eyes, down your cheeks, and for the second time that night, Winwin was completely taken aback by your beauty. Your eyes shone with tears and your hair was fanned out around you, messy but so perfect. Your lipstick had come off during dinner and all that was left was a red stain which had become darker from you biting them. He watched you as you closed your eyes, face contorted with pleasure. Your tears stuck to your lashes and your mouth dropped open in silent gasps and moans. He wondered to himself just how he got so lucky, and how much better his life had been since you became a part of it.

He captured your lips in a kiss, trying to convey as much love as he could. He wasn’t the best at expressing himself, but he wanted to be better. For you.

“Do I really make you happy?” he whispered into your ear.

You sniffled and kissed his cheek. “Yes, you really do. So happy. I’m happiest when I’m with you.”

He held you tighter, and buried his face in your neck. Tears trickled down his own cheeks and he kissed your neck softly, overwhelmed with emotion.

It wasn’t long until you both finished, a tearful, tangled mess. Winwin didn’t let go of you after, nuzzling into your neck. You smiled, running your hands up and down his sides. Sighing contently, you rested your cheek on the top of his head.

“Do you believe me now?” you asked. Winwin hummed, smiling widely, and kissed your jaw.

“You know, I may need more convincing.”

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ezzydean · 4 years

Note

Fluff; 59 or 61 for noyawata and/or 19 or 41 for kyouwata

So this is NoyaWata and KyouWata and Noya & Kyoutani

(click here to read on my blog and not the dash)

Yuu kicks at the floor with a pout. The solid thud of his foot hitting the floor only makes him feel the slightest bit better. Just a teeny bit. Not enough to make the gnawing — pain? frustration? sadness? — feelings in his gut stop completely but at least enough that he doesn’t feel like his insides are going fall out any time soon. Which is at least better than ten minutes ago when he was pretty sure he was going to have to figure out how to put his ribs back together after the gnawing emotions ate them away like acid. He kicks the floor again, a little harder than last time.

He can see Kyoutani looking at him from the corner of his eye. But Kyoutani doesn’t say anything and Yuu really doesn’t feel like explaining himself just yet. So he just keeps kicking at the floor, foot thudding solidly against it, and Kyoutani keeps reading the book he has open in his lap.

The first time he had stumbled out of Watari’s bedroom and spotted Kyoutani on the couch with a huge book in his lap had been weird. Seeing Kyoutani, who he was used to seeing wild eyed on the court, sprawled comfortably on the couch with a book was weird. Looking closer and seeing that the book was some kind of history book had been even weirder. Listening to Kyoutani laugh at him as he threw a shirt at Yuu’s face had been beyond weird. Not that any of those things were necessarily out of character for Kyoutani. It was just that Kyoutani off court was an unknown variable.

Especially since Yuu had just slept with Kyoutani’s roommate. Boyfriend. Partner? At that point he hadn’t been entirely sure what Kyoutani and Shinji’s relationship was.

Some days he feels like he still doesn’t entirely understand their relationship. He’s dating Shinji. He knows that much. He’s dating Shinji and kind of pretty much in really deep. Like he doesn’t wanna say love. But. Yeah. He even met Shinji’s family a few days ago.

He kicks the floor again and this time he hears Kyoutani shut his book right after.

“Spill,” Kyoutani says. It’s not kind or gentle. But it’s not all that mean either.

He doesn’t know if that’s better or worse.

“I’m pretty sure his mom hates me.” He wasn’t planning on telling Kyoutani. It just slipped out and he can feel Kyoutani’s gaze on him and he really wants to meet his eyes, to stare back and him and dare him to say something. But he just can’t.

Kyoutani scoffs. “That’s it?”

Yuu whips his head up and glares. “What do you mean ‘that’s it’? That’s kind of a big thing.”

“I’m pretty sure Watari’s mom hates everyone. If I remember right not even Iwaizumi could get her to like him. And Iwaizumi can get practically any adult to like him. He’s polite and shit. I dunno.” Kyoutani waves his hand dismissively. “So is that it? That’s why you’re all” —he gestures at Yuu with a frown on his face— “mopey and shit?”

Yuu blinks at him as he processes what Kyoutani said. If it’s true that Shinji’s mom doesn’t really like anyone then maybe meeting his family hadn’t gone as bad as he feared. Huh.

He kicks the floor one more time before he hops to his feet with a grin.

“Yeah. I guess so. Thanks Kyoutani!”

—

Kentarou folds himself down to sit on the ground as the dog leaps around him playfully. It’s not his dog. Which sucks because he’d love to have a dog but his and Watari’s apartment won’t allow pets. Maybe in a few years they can find a bigger place that lets them have pets. Or find their own place. With three of them the cost shouldn’t be too bad.

Yes he knows there will be three of them. Nishinoya has become a pretty regular fixture in their apartment and, honestly, he’s just waiting for Watari to come to him with that look in his eyes that means he wants to ask something that he’s not sure Kentarou will agree with but he’s going to ask anyway. Really he doesn’t mind Nishinoya that much. He’s a little more spirited than Kentarou normally prefers to deal with. But he makes Watari happy so Kentarou can deal with it.

He can deal with a lot so long as Watari is happy.

The dog leaps into his lap, licking at his face eagerly for a moment, before rushing off when it’s owner whistles. A few moments later Watari sprawls across his lap with a grin.

“Not to too my own horn or anything,” Watari says, “but the dog loves me more.”

“Most everyone and everything does,” Kentarou growls out.

He’s not sure why he’s suddenly so irritated. It’s been a good day. Sunny and warm. He and Watari had gotten some ice cream and then wandered through the park until the spotted the dog running around and had asked if they could play with it for a bit. Now he has Watari sprawled in his lap all warm and happy and something in his gut is twisting like a pretzel.

“Kentarou?”

“Just, ugh. Never mind.”

He tries to gently push Watari off his lap but he refuses to move.

“Nuh, uh. Talk.”

“Don’t want to.”

Watari gives him a look and for a moment he thinks that he’ll give up. But something he sees seems to steel his resolve because he shakes his head and crosses his arms.

“Too bad. Talk.”

“I don’t know,” he bites out. “I just. I. Ugh.” He drops his head back to look up at the clouds drifting through the sky. “Are you happy?”

“Right this moment not so much,” Watari answers instantly. “But in the grand scheme of things. Yes.” Watari taps Kentarou’s throat gently. “Are you?”

“Is Nishinoya happy?”

Watari laughs at that. “Nishinoya is generally always happy. Nice attempt at diversion by the way. Please answer my question.”

“I think I am. You gonna ask him to move in with us soon?”

Watari wasn’t moving much but now he goes so still that Kentarou actually looks away from the sky to make sure he’s okay. There’s a surprised look in his eyes and his cheeks are flushing ever so slightly. He opens his mouth and then closes it without saying anything, suddenly avoiding Kentarou’s eyes.

Did he? Had he really not thought about it? Kentarou snickers but even that doesn’t get Watari to look at him. He lets the idea sink into Watari’s mind. Watches as he thinks it over, turning it this way and that. It takes a little while but that’s okay. The day is still sunny and warm and comfortable. He still feels like his gut is trying to turn into a pretzel but it’s not a pressing matter just yet.

“Huh. I think I might really, really like Nishinoya.”

Kentarou snorts. “Well you did introduce him to your family. And he’s practically living with us. I kind of figured that part out already.”

“You’re such a jerk,” Watari says. But he suddenly leans up and kisses Kentarou’s forehead before he scrambles off his lap. “But that’s part of why I love you.”

“Mhmm,” Kentarou hums and lets Watari pull him to his feet. “So what makes you love Nishinoya?”

He doesn’t love Nishinoya. He likes him well enough and Nishinoya seems to be able to deal with him and, really, as long as Watari is happy that’s all he needs.

But that doesn’t mean he’s not interested in what, exactly, Watari sees in him.

—

Shinji can’t keep the smile off of his face when he hears Kentarou grunt softly. Most likely from Yuu flopping onto him like he’s a piece of furniture. There’s no grumbling or rustling or thumping noises so the effort of making Yuu move must be more than Kentarou is willing to expend right now. Shinji can’t blame him. They had finally dragged the last boxes of their things into the house that afternoon and if he wasn’t so determined to get the kitchen set up before he crashed he would be right there with them.

He gets the dishes put away, glad that Kentarou had already picked cabinets for the spices and pans and got them sorted out, and looks out the kitchen window with a smile.

The smile on his face only grows when he steps into the bedroom closest to the kitchen and sees Kentarou on the floor with Yuu sprawled on him. They’re both breathing deeply but he knows they’re not asleep. They’re just exhausted and content and seeing both objects of his affection right there in front of him makes his heart hurt. In the best of ways.

“So spoiled,” he mutters, slipping his phone out of his pocket for a picture. The shutter sound makes Kentarou’s eyes twitch but he doesn’t open them.

“I heard that,” Kentarou grumbles.

“You were supposed to,” Shinji replies. “It’s motivation. Because every minute that you’re here and not helping me unpack our bedroom is another picture. That I have no issues sending to Iwaizumi. And Oikawa. And Tsukishima.” Each name makes Kentarou’s face twitch. Shinji grins. “And Yahaba.”

That name makes Kentarou’s eyes snap open as he growls out, “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh I would. Yahaba loves pictures of you in, and I quote, your natural habitat. If you didn’t so clearly love me and he didn’t so clearly have his thing going with that swimmer I would be worried he’s going to steal you away from me.”

Yuu huffs at that and turns his head, peering at Shinji through his bangs. “Nope,” Yuu says sleepily. “You’re ours Shinji.”

Kentarou’s glare turns into a soft look at he glances down at Yuu and then over to Shinji.

“Tiny’s got a point,” Kentarou says.

Yuu tenses and smacks at Kentarou’s face as best as he can, suddenly not so sleepy. Kentarou just laughs and rolls over, taking Yuu with him. Yuu groans under Kentarou’s weight and valiantly tries to wriggle himself free. Shinji takes another picture.

Two minutes later he sighs as his two boyfriends roll around on the floor. He’s not sure if they’re wrestling, actually trying to one up each other, or literally just rolling around on the floor because they can.

“Bedroom,” Shinji calls out, phone in front of his face. “Or photo evidence turns into video evidence.”

Kentarou freezes for just long enough for Yuu to slide out from under him and drop heavily onto his back. Kentarou hits the floor with a groan.

“You’re both menaces,” Kentarou growls out. “Don’t know why I put up with either of you.”

“Because,” Yuu singsongs.

Shinji laughs. “Because you love me and I love you. And I love Yuu and you are fond of him too.”

“One big happy family,” Yuu croons. Then he hops to his feet and nudges Kentarou in the side with his foot. “Go unpack your bedroom. We need Shinji happy remember.”

Kentarou grumbles but gets up as well, ruffling Yuu’s hair and pressing a kiss to Shinji’s temple as he leaves the room.

“Why, exactly, do you need Shinji happy?” he asks Yuu. Who simply smiles and starts poking through one of his boxes in the corner.

He already knows. They think they’re so sneaky. But he’s seen the pet shelter website up on Kentarou’s phone. He’s heard Yuu asking Tanaka about dog care. He already knows that they want to ask him about getting a dog.

He already knows that he’ll say yes.

#haikyuu #WataKyou #NoyaWata #nishinoya yuu #kyoutani kentarou #watari shinji #WataKyou fic #NoyaWata fic #NoyaWataKyou fic #hq writing #prompt #Nonny

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fragmentedink-archived · 4 years

Text

Hell to Pay: Chapter Nineteen

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

A/N: trigger warnings for mentions of past abuse

Nik was getting ready to throw Lev off a cliff for the sheer amount of fussing he was doing regarding Eden. He was straightening her clothes, rambling off advice, while they waited for Raziel to pull up. Nik put his hand over Lev’s mouth. “Shut. up,” he said, exasperated. “Half of what you said was completely forgotten. We’ll be fine. And if not, you’ll be back tomorrow.”

Nik grabbed a hold of Lev’s tongue when he tried licking Nik’s hand. Eden was giggling and wiggling when Nik warned, “If you plan on licking me, you better be licking me elsewhere.”

Lev flushed, but said, “Text me, if you need anything? Anything at all?”

Nik rolled his eyes. “We. Will. Be. Fine.”

“Are you sure?” Lev asked. Eden smacked Lev’s arm when he tugged on her cream colored sweater. “Maybe I should stay?”

“I will literally have Amara drag you by your legs if you don’t go,” Nik said, kissing Eden on the head. She wiggled happily, gnawing on her little fist while trying to shove her sweater in her mouth. “Eden will still be alive when you come back,” he promised.

“Okay, but are you sure-”

Lev’s millionth ask was cut off by the knock at the door. Nik sighed at the ceiling. “Thank the stars. Saved by the door.” Nik went to open it and grinned when he saw Raziel standing there. “So we meet again.”

She didn’t have a chance to respond before Lev just jumped her, throwing his arms around her. She just hugged him back. “Hello, Little bird,” she said, then looked up to Nik. “Hello.” Her eyes then moved to the babbling baby still wiggling in Nik’s arms. “This must be Eden.”

“She has my eyes, don’t you think?” Nik asked. He kissed Eden’s cheek, getting smacked in the face for his troubles. “She’s a darling,” he said, nipping at Eden’s fingers. “Clearly she takes after me.”

Raziel smiled. “She’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t she?” Lev instantly said, making heart eyes at Eden. “Would you like to hold her?”

“She absolutely may not,” Cameron said, damn near scaring the hell out of Nik by how quietly he came up behind them. Nik turned to see Cameron leveling a cold look at Raziel. Eden squealed loudly in Nik’s ear and started reaching for Cameron.

Nik handed her over before she deafened him. Cameron took her without taking his eyes off the ancient angel, clearly poised for offense, despite Raziel just ruffling Lev’s hair and telling him it was fine.

Eden replaced the sweater in her mouth for Cameron’s shirt while clawing at Cameron’s face with her tiny nails. It would be hilarious if Cameron didn’t look moments away from tearing into Raziel. Nik gave a low whistle. “Well, this is awkward,” he said, to no one in particular.

Cameron seemed immune to the confused and hurt look from Lev. Raziel chucked him under the chin lightly. “I’ll be waiting in the car. Go ahead and tell your goodbyes.” Cameron was watching her turn around and go back out to her car, before he finally looked at Eden.

“Stop chewing on my clothes,” he said, pulling the collar of his shirt out of her mouth. She just screeched at him for taking away her latest chew toy. “Stop it,” he scolded. She giggled at him before Lev wandered over to kiss Eden’s head.

“She’s probably teething,” Lev said, for the hundredth time. “You should find a teething ring for her to chew on.” When he looked at the small black claw marks on Cameron’s cheek, he added, “She also needs her nails clipped.”

“Noted,” Cameron said, halfway dismissively. “You may go now. Before your grandmother’s feathers fall out. Eden will be fine.”

Hurt was etched on Lev’s face. “Goodbye,” he said, quietly, as he went to press his cheek against Cameron’s free shoulder before coming to throw his arms around Nik. “Goodbye,” He said, looking at Nik.

Nik grabbed his chin and pulled him into a quick kiss. “See ya tomorrow,” Nik said, pressing a light bite to Lev’s neck. “I do hope you find that toy halo.”

“I’ll be back by eleven,” Lev promised, reluctantly pulling back. “I don’t wanna miss lunch.”

“Mmm, good,” Nik said. “Cam would hate missing out on feeding you.”

He could almost see Cameron’s eye roll behind him, but Lev kissed him one more time before disappearing out the door. Nik sighed loudly and shut the front door before turning on Cameron. “I think you hurt his feelings.”

Cameron’s blank look was cut short by Eden trying to tear at Cameron’s hair. “What are you talking about.”

“You mean you didn’t catch that little ‘goodbye’ he did when he left? You hurt his feelings, Cammm.”

“I did not. I told him to go before his grandmother started molting,” Cameron said, yanking Eden’s tiny fists out of his hair. “If I intended to hurt his feelings I’d be more direct about it,” he said, before glaring down at Eden. “Keep your hands out of my hair.”

Eden’s only answer was a shrill screech right in his face. Cameron just sighed and turned back towards the kitchen with a wiggly Eden going back to clench Cam’s white hair. “I don’t think she listened, Cam.”

“Shut up, Nikolas,” Cameron said, sharp enough Nik half winced, but it didn’t stop the grin from forming on his face. Cameron just pulled Eden away from his hair. “Knock it off, right this minute, you horrid child.”

“Give her to me before you kill my baby,” Nik said.

“Hmph.” Cameron stopped in his tracks and halfway shoved Eden at him. Eden wiggled and was giggling, completely oblivious to the look of murder in Cameron’s eyes. Nik tried so hard to wipe the grin off his face. “She can rip your hair out,” he said, turning around and going back to the kitchen.

Nik looked down at Eden smiling at him with her fist halfway in her mouth. “My stars, child, you are going to get yourself killed.” She just babbled at him, clearly not afraid of getting smothered in her sleep by her father, as she reached for Nik’s hair. “Oh no you don’t,” Nik said, holding her out just enough to keep those teeny pale fingers away. “My hair is definitely not for pulling. At least not by you.”

-----

Most of the ride was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Raziel seemed in a good mood, and Lev was enjoying it. By the time they got to Raziel’s house, nearly all the tension Lev had been holding had eased somewhat.

Walking inside no longer felt like coming home. That was the first thing Lev noticed, and he felt a little uncomfortable with that. Raziel’s house had always been home, and now he felt more like a guest than anything.

“You can stay in your old room,” Raziel was saying. “Are you hungry? I can make you a late breakfast.”

Lev shook his head. “Cameron made sure I ate before I came,” he said, apologetically. Cameron had made sure he ate enough to feed three people, and then some. It was like Cameron had had something to prove.

“They take good care of you, then?” Raziel asked. “You look better.”

This time Lev couldn’t help his little smile. “Yeah, they do.” He followed her into the living room and settled on the couch. “I like living with them.” Usually.

“You’ve gained weight,” Raziel said approvingly. “They clearly make you happy. You’re practically glowing, and you flush every time I bring them up.”

Lev’s face heated up. “Yeah, well, I think I love them.”

“You think you love them?” Raziel arched a brow, hiding a smile.

Lev flushed deeper. “Alright, I do,” he admitted. “But... it’s complicated.”

“As are most things in life,” Raziel said, pulling him into a hug. She pressed a kiss to his temple and rubbed his shoulder. “And, I mean no offense, but with those two, I’m not sure if it will ever be uncomplicated.”

Lev hummed. “You’re not wrong,” he admitted. “And it’s hard. Half the time I feel like I’m always going to be saying the wrong thing.”

“You need to pay attention better,” Raziel said. “You’ve always struggled to notice things going on around you.”

“Well,” Lev said, tucking his cheek on her shoulder. “When you put it like that.”

Raziel chuckled softly, tapping his nose. “Perhaps try looking beyond that, little bird. There’s a lot going on outside your head too.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lev promised. He closed his eyes, for a short moment, and then looked up again. “Hey, Gramma? Did I have a halo toy when I was a baby?”

“What?” Confusion flickered across Raziel’s face.

Lev sighed. “Cameron and Nik are convinced I had one. I promised I’d look into it.”

Raziel just laughed.

----

“Okay, but you said I can get new bracelets today,” Nik was saying. Cameron chose to ignore the borderline whining tone from Nik while he fed the actual infant in the room. Nik was sulking at the counter while Eden babbled at him, smearing applesauce across her face. “Pay attention to meeee.”

Cameron threw one of the spoons at him. “Knock it off, I’m trying to feed the baby.”

“Well what about this baby,” Nik snapped.

“I’ll put you in time out,” Cameorn said, flatly. “Do you really want that.”

Nik instantly shut up and Cameorn turned back to Eden, satisfied. He put the spoon of applesauce in her mouth, catching the bit that was going to dribble on her chin before she had the chance to spit it out. “If you ruin that sweater, we are going to have words,” he warned her.

“She’s a baby,” Nik said. “I highly doubt she gives a shit.”

“Okay, then,” Cameorn said, sitting back. “If she ruins her sweater, we will have words,” he directed at Nik. “That better?”

“Not really,” Nik mumbled.

Eden screeched at them, shaking her little fists at them with enough ferocity Cameron was almost impressed. He tried feeding her more applesauce but she pulled back away from the spoon, refusing any more.

“Great, she’s finished,” Cameron said, mostly to himself, as he looked at his watch. “We should go ahead and go to the store, then, so you can stop whining.”

“Yessss.” Nik came over and pressed a kiss to Eden’s glossy white hair. Eden babbled happily, chewing on the sleeve of her sweater when Nik looked fondly at her. “Stars, I can’t believe you made a nice baby.”

“Nice how? Have you even been in the same room as her when she was tired?” Cameron asked, glaring at him, while unhooking the tray from the highchair. Eden wiggled when Cameron picked her up and carried her to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

“You make it sound like she’s some kind of teeny monster,” Nik said, poking her nose. She almost tried chomping down on Nik’s golden brown finger. “Just seems nice to me. Babies like chewing on things, right?”

Cameron sighed. “You always were a bad judge of character.”

Nik elected to ignore Cameron and focused his attention on the wigging baby on the counter. “What do you think, tiny demon baby? Are you a nice baby? I think you are.” Eden screeched happily, reaching up for Nik. “I think she likes me,” Nik told Cameron. “See, look. She can’t get enough of me.”

“I’m sure you think that involving any female that looks at you for more than two seconds,” Cameron said, grabbing a soft wet wash rag and lightly scrubbing the applesauce still smeared across her face.

“Yeah,” Nik said. “Because it’s true. Have you ever found a woman that didn’t like me? No. you haven’t.”

“I think Biela would hang you up by your intestines if given the chance,” Cameron mused.

“Okay, the man hating lesbian does not count,” Nik huffed. “I meant anyone with a soul.”

Cameron flicked a look at him. “Are you saying I have a soul?”

“AWE. I knew you liked me,” Nik said, with a cheeky smile, pressing a kiss to Eden’s belly. “Look at that, Baby, Cameron does like me. Amazing.”

Cameron rolled his eyes. “You’re dumber than that baby.” Nik sighed and looked down at Eden, brushing his fingers over her sweater. “Why don’t you go find her some clean clothes to wear. Preferably something not so gaudy.”

Nik instantly perked up and disappeared out of the room. Cameron looked down at the baby trying to shove her fist in her mouth. “I’m finding you something less…. That. No kid of mine is wearing such ugly clothes,” he muttered.

Eden just reached a hand out to him, either completely agreeing with him or just because she wanted to be picked up. Cameron, more curious than anything, brushed his fingers through her hair. “Hmm.”

He instantly pulled back when Nik came into the room with her clothes. “These.”

Cameron instantly frowned. “What the fuck is that.”

Nik smiled brightly and held out a bright orange and black outfit. “What do you think?”

“I think she is a pale baby and you’re trying to piss me off by making her look like she’s the byproduct of a ghost fucking a pumpkin.”

Nik clicked his tongue and looked down at Eden. “And what do you think, my little demon baby? Do you want to look like a ghost pumpkin hybrid? I think you do.”

“I think you want your neck snapped,” Cameron said, flatly.

Nik frowned at him. “I think you’re bullying me.”

“You haven’t seen bullying.”

Nik sighed loudly and turned around and went to find more clothes. Cameron rolled his eyes and looked down at Eden laughing at him. “He thinks he’s funny,” he said, tracing a black button on her sweater. “Angels are notoriously idiots. Do yourself a favor and date a demon.” Eden shrieked a laugh at him and Cameron’s mouth tugged. “Good.”

Nik eventually came back with what had to be pink... tulle. “What the hell is that?” Cameron asked.

“This,” Nik said, “Is going to be the cutest little shit and I will not put her in anything else.” Eden squawked at them to hurry up and get her off the counter. “Well, looks like we have no choice. Better get her dressed now.”

Cameron ignored him and started undressing the wiggling infant on the counter, barely getting her out of her applesauce covered clothes and into the pale pink… tutu? that he thought clearly would be hilarious putting on his baby, judging by the crooked grin on Nik’s face. Cameron just balled up the dirty clothes and threw them at Nik’s face. “Lose that grin, idiot.”

Nik caught the bundle easily and stuck his tongue out. “You like it.” Cameron rose a brow at him, and Nik’s nose wrinkled, but that smile fell, even if Cam did catch a small one while Nik put the clothes in the dirty clothes bin.

Cameron picked her up and sat her up while he put the ghastly bow around her head. He was surprised enough to see her sitting at all, even if she was a little wobbly. Cam got down to eye level and pointed at her. “Get this dirty, and you’re sleeping in it.”

Eden screeched at him hard enough she nearly fell on her face. Cameron rose a brow, pressing a finger to her forehead to keep her upright. “If you break your head, don’t cry to me about it,” he said, dryly.

She had just given him a toothless smile when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. “Hold that thought,” Cameorn told her as he fished his phone out of his pocket, sighing internally. “Just Lev,” he muttered.

Lev: how’s the baby girl?

Cameron had almost put away the phone, when Nik’s name popped up.

Nik: I put her in a pink tutu 😏

Lev’s reply was almost instant.

Lev: Pictures? Pls???

Nik: hmmm

Cameron rolled his eyes and looked at Eden. “They’re both dumbasses.”

Lev: pleeeaaaassssseeeeeee

Nik: HMMMM

Lev: Don’t be a tease :(

“Oh my gods,” Cameron muttered. He looked at Eden. “Sit still.” He took a few pictures of the wiggling baby demon and sent them into the chat.

Cam: Here.

Lev: TELL HER SHE LOOKS BEAUTIFUL 😭

Cam: She’s six months old. I doubt she cares.

Nik: ok but /I/ care. No kid of mine is going to be fucking ugly

Lev: Nik. :/

Nik: not all of us can be so altruistic, Levant. It’s just the way things are

“I didn’t think you knew that big of words,” Cameron said, loudly enough for Nik to hear him from the other room.

“Fuck you,” Nik said. “Just because I choose to act like a dumbass doesn’t mean I am one.”

“Mmm.” Cameron looked down at the wiggly baby. “He is a dumbass. Smart people do not sit outside in the dead of winter to freeze to death. There are much more productive ways to die,” he sighed, bending down to pick her up. “Come on. We need to go buy Nik’s bracelets.”

---

Lev pressed the baby blanket to his face, as if his parents scents would still cling to them after over a century. The only thing he got was a nose full of dust. He sneezed, dropping the blanket in his lap.

“This stuff is gonna have to be washed,” he said, before sneezing again.

“I was planning on it, little bird,” Raziel said patiently. She tucked a scrap of blue cloth back in the box in front of her, and then added, “I’ll hold on to the boy clothes for a few years longer. Who knows what your next child will be.”

Lev snorted. “As nice as that is, you might as well wait for Amara or Reneé to have a boy. I don’t think Cameron will want any more after Eden. He didn’t want Eden. This is going to be the only kid I get to have.”

Raziel hummed softly. “Alright, little bird.”

Lev shot her a look, but just pulled out an old stuffed animal. “Oh, I remember this. Does Amara know you’ve got Mr. Stuffykins?”

Raziel laughed. “No. Well, sort of. Best not to give that to Eden. Amara may come looking for him one day. She never did finish her childhood.”

“Gramma,” Lev warned, before she could go into one of her well practiced lectures. “She’s not even here. Kind of rude.”

“Hmph.” Raziel watched him pull out another stuffed animal. “That one belonged to your father, you know.”

Lev ran his fingers along the calico cat stuffed animal. “Glad to see we were both cat people.”

“Yes, well.”

----

Shopping had proved to be harder than Nik had originally thought it would. Apparently carrying a screaming infant throughout a high end store was frowned upon by clerks and customers alike. They had gotten Eden some new clothes as well while they were out, and was on their way home when Nik said, “Can we go see my brother?”

Cameron flicked him a quick look. “Which brother.”

“Preferably the one who doesn’t converse like drying paint.”

Cameron sighed quietly enough Nik almost didn’t hear it. “You’re going to keep hounding me until I say yes, aren’t you.”

“I might,” Nik said.

Cameron’s only response was an eyeroll. Just about when Nik thought Cameron decided to endure Nik’s whining, the car turned into the lane that went through Liwen. Nik looked in the mirror at Eden who was babbling to herself and chewing on her coat sleeve. “Does that kid ever not chew on something?”

“Does your mouth ever shut?” Cameron retorted.

Nik groaned. “You are so mean to me. It was just a question, you jackass.”

“Stupid questions require stupid answers, Nikolas,” was all Cameron said, when the manor house came into view. “I am not responsible for any blood being shed,” he said, pulling into the drive. Nik gave him a confused look, but said nothing as the car parked. “Carry the child.”

Nik got Eden out of the car and followed Cameron to the front of the house. He had been here… probably once or twice a while back dragging Ash out of bed when he lived with Maikel, but other than that he avoided this place as often as he could. Was bad enough his dad was BFFs with the bastard, he didn’t want to see their bromance anymore than his dad wanted to see him.

Cameron knocked on the door and Nik had to deal with Eden’s tiny hands clawing at his hair before the door finally opened. A good looking man with black hair that brushed his shoulders and electric blue eyes was standing in front of him. Nik’s eyes traveled the length of his body as he grinned. “Hi. Has anyone ever told you you look exactly like the prick king himself?” Nik asked. “Just hotter.” The smile instantly vanished from the man’s face. “Too soon?”

He ignored Nik’s comment, looking from Nik, to Eden to Cameron and back to Eden. “I guess it’s not just a Lev problem anymore, is it?”

Nik was not expecting Cameron to throw a punch, and he was definitely not expecting the very attractive man to catch the fist, and he definitely was not expecting Cameron to knee him in the balls. Nik winced and stepped back before either he or Eden ended up between the measuring contest. “Stars above, clearly you two need a room.”

The man’s teeth bared and Nik barely had time to register the fist in Cameron’s face. Cameron hadn’t even blinked, let alone flinched when Nik had heard the bones fracture in Cameorn’s nose. Nate got between them before Cameron had the chance to retaliate. “Then next person who swings is dealing with me,” Nate said, coldly. “There is a damned baby right there. And my very pregnant mate is in this house. Do you really want on my bad side.”

Nik could almost feel the undercurrent of power that Nate had- and he knew precisely how hard it was to piss Nate off to the point he got downright murderous. And that usually involved someone getting hurt- or even worse, his mate getting threatened.

“Sorry,” the man muttered.

Cameron didn’t even blink at Nate. “He started it,” he said, mildly.

When the man tensed, clearly ready for another fight, Nate grabbed him by the ear. “Silas,” he scolded.

The man- Silas- lifted his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. I’m sorry.”

Nik forced himself to not flinch.

But Nate leveled Silas a stern look before letting go of his fucking ear. “You better be.” He looked at Cameron. “You should be ashamed of yourself,” he said, flatly. “Getting in a fight in front of a child like that. What if she got hurt? It’s not like Nik has the magic to be able to protect her from your measuring contest.”

“Hey,” Nik protested.

Nate flashed him an apologetic look, but just turned back to Cameron. “Not that I doubt someone like you care.”

Eden just kept up her happy wiggling in his arms, kicking her legs like her father getting punched in the face was a damned spectator sport.

Cameron didn’t seem phased by Nate’s blunt words, even if his brows did lower, just a fraction. “That’s why we don’t let you make the decisions, Nathaniel,” Cameron said, coolly. “Anyways, I came to see my brother.”

He then straightened his nose before pushing past Nate, completely dismissing every single one of them, before turning around and taking Eden from him. Nik frowned. “Did you have me carry her because you wanted to punch Silas.”

“Yes,” was all Cameron said, while disappearing down the hallway.

Nik blatantly stared after Cameron’s ass before turning back to Silas and Nate. “So. Anyways. I’m Nik. You must be Silas. The Silas, am I right? I must thank you for the booty shorts. They are. Nice.”

The anger on Silas’ face shifted to confusion, then more confusion, then to realization,and back to confusion, and then to being pleased. “He still has those?”

“Mmm. He does. I got Lev to give me a fashion show. Gave him head for it,” Nik said, sliding his hands in his pockets. “Definitely enjoyed that.”

Nate looked annoyed on Silas’ behalf when Silas looked at Nate. “Why didn’t you tell me your brother was just like him.”

Nate looked apologetic. “He was dropped on his head?” Nate offered.

“Well what’s Adrien’s excuse,” Nik asked.

Nate smiled. “He flew into a wall.”

Silas turned back to Nik. “How’s Lev?”

“I don’t know, how is Lev?”

Silas looked annoyed. “I don’t know, I haven’t seen him in months. I went from training him everyday to radio silence.”

“My fault, I’m afraid,” Nik said. “I keep him busy.”

Nate rubbed his forehead, tired. “Nik,” he said, exasperated. “Will you leave the poor bastard alone.”

Nik couldn’t stop the pout. “But I’m bonding.” He felt bad enough, he offered, “He’s, uh, with his grandma? Nice lady. Cameron was going to pluck her feathers out.”

Silas seemed to take it as an acceptable enough answer. “Okay. Is he at least training? With his magic at least?”

“Uh.” Nik winced. “I mean? He’s definitely getting a work out?”

Silas looked so pained. “He promised me he’d work on his magic. Even if we can’t train the way we used to.” Nik instantly picked up on that.

“Oh?” he said. “Oh, do tell. How was that.”

Silas looked both embarrassed and smug at the same time. Nate just looked pained, when Silas said, “I just needed to find the right motivation to get him to make his shadows solid.” Nik couldn’t stop the sharp jab of jealousy that hit him when Silas used his magic to make a solid black ball that he underhandedly tossed it to Nik, saying, “Lev could do this too, if he just believed in himself. After that, the options are limitless.”

Nik’s face prickled when he tossed him back the ball, shoving his hands back into his hoodie pockets. “You sound like a regular infomercial. You should be proud,” he said. Nate looked at him, like that and Nik just cut him a look warning him to not say shit.

Silas looked a little uncomfortable as he waved away the ball of magic. “But all jokes aside, if he can’t use it as a weapon, he can use it as a shield. Hiding won’t save him forever.”

“Better offense than a good defense,” Nik muttered. “At least that’s what Papi always says.”

Nate made a sound of almost disapproval mixed with just miserable acknowledgement. It was an effort to not look at Nate’s ringed hand, knowing how those scars had happened. Father of the fucking year.

Nik forced his attention back up to Silas. “So. You and Lev, huh?”

Silas looked a little pained and embarrassed. “That’s… old news. Older than you news.” But under his breath he said, “I cannot believe Lev is robbing cradles.”

Nate choked and gave Silas an incredulous look. Nik just frowned. “Yes, Silas, I am very aware of my elaborate daddy issues. You don’t need to spell it out for me. Have you seen Cameron.”

“Lev is the furthest thing from a father figure as you can get,” Silas said. “He’s small and he’s soft. He’s the one that needs taken care of.”

“I’d have thought stereotyping bottoms is beneath you,” Nik said. Nate rolled his eyes heavenward and just turned around and left them alone, clearly not wanting to hear about Nik’s sex life. Stars, he probably hadn’t had sex in months, the poor bastard.

Silas huffed out a laugh. “Lev’s not a bottom.”

“Excuse me?” Nik wasn’t sure what he had meant to say, but that definitely wasn’t it. “I think I’ve fucked him enough times.”

“He’s fucked me enough times.”

Nik blinked. “Are you saying I’ve been doing all the work. Stars, I’m going to kill him. He could have been fucking me,” he muttered, taking out his phone. He almost texted Lev before deciding against it, and just put it back in his pocket.

Silas just kept watching him in amusement. “Well, Lev’s not going to bring it up. Do you know how many times it took me to convince him I wanted him to?”

Nik eyed Silas from head to toe. Six foot three and pure muscle. The image of the scrawny five foot eight angel fucking him, did amuse Nik. “Oh I believe it,” Nik said. Unable to stop himself, he also said, “Is that why you’re still carrying a torch for him. And does that have anything to do with your unbridled hatred for Cameron? Because now he is fucking him?”

Any and all amusement was wiped from Silas’ face, but it didn’t erase Nik’s. “It’s not like I broke up with him willingly.” He paused, and said, “The hatred for Cameron is because he’s a fucking asshole.”

“Then why did you break up with him?” NIk asked. “Because Daddy said so? Also, Cam being a prick is part of his appeal. He’s fun to play with.”

“Dad didn’t make me break up with him.” Anger rolled across Silas’ face as he was looking away, clearly not mad at him, but at someone. “After what Dad put him through, I wasn’t going to let him stay.”

“So, instead of standing up to your idiot father, you kicked Lev to the curb?” Nik asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. “That worked out real well for Lev.”

“I thought it was a good idea at the time,” Silas said. “I didn’t want another significant other dying because my dad didn’t approve of them.”

“Then you should have done something about your father,” Nik said, like he had the balls to do something about his own prick father. Nik was sure he was still halfway afraid of him, but he didn’t have to worry about it since Az’ril didn’t show up in Demon Territory.

Silas leveled him a look. “You do not stand up to Maikel,” he said. “Son or not. No matter how old you are. You’re still going to end up on the floor. Ask me how I know.”

Nik met that steady look eye for eye. “Someone did,” he said. “And she’s still breathing. And he is not.”

“You do not have a monopoly on daddy issues. I was never going to be able to stand up to him; not in the way that mattered.”

“No,” Nik agreed. “I do not. But I would still stand up to Az’ril for both Cameron and Lev. And I did. Basically why I’m all but fallen. I’m sure the moment I stepped foot in my father's house I will get dewinged for having a backbone.”

“Then you should probably not step foot in your father's house,” Silas said, before immediately wincing. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Nik gave him a sharp, humorless smile. “Like I said, elaborate daddy issues.”

“I didn’t know what was going on with Lev,” Silas said. “I tried distancing myself so he wouldn’t be at the center of Maikel’s attention.”

So he ended up trading one monster for another. “And since I am a betting man, I am willing to bet you now regret that decision.”

Looking both guilty and pained, Silas said, “I should have stuck around- kept an eye on him. I didn’t know he’d go for the most territorial alpha he could find.”

Nik wasn’t sure what all Silas knew about Lev and Remiel, but that was another story for another day. “Cameron tore into him,” Nik said. “That venom… is potent.”

“Death is still too good for him,” he said. “Does Lev know?”

“He, uh, had a mental breakdown over it,” Nik said. “Cameron just used alpha bullshit to justify it. I’m sure you understand.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Nik said, waving him off. “He has a baby.”

Silas looked so confused. “And you talk to me about stereotyping.”

“Stereotyping?” Nik asked. “Lev is the reason that baby is not dead in a ditch. He was all googly eyes and mama birding that poor baby the moment he saw her. Trust me. I am not stereotyping. Now saying I was fine because I have a baby, is definitely stereotyping.”

“...Oh.”

--------

Bay stared warily at the wiggling baby in Cameron’s arms. The thing was chewing on her sleeve gleefully as she tried clawing at Cameron’s face. “You… have a baby?” he said, dumbly enough, he winced as soon as he said it. “I imagine Lev is over the moon.”

Cameron gave him an irritated look as he sat down in the rocking chair across from him. “Clearly.” The baby screeched at him while smacking Cameron in the face. He cut her a sharp look and pried her tiny fingers away from his face. “Stop it.”

Her only response was a halfway scream loud enough Bay winced. He rested his hand on his belly, praying that Lucas wasn’t that. “Sucks to be you,” he told Cameron.

Cameron flicked him a cool look. “At least I don’t have to be pregnant.”

“At least my kid isn’t a little monster,” Bay shot back.

“Yet,” was all Cameron said.

Fear jolted down Bay’s spine but he just looked unimpressed at his half brother. He had opened his mouth in retort when Nate came into the nursery with disgust on is face. Bay rose a brow. “What’s wrong with you?”

“My brother is being disgusting,” was all Nate said, going over to Cameron. “Give me the child.”

“No.”

“Yes,” Nate said. “If I have to break up your pissing contest with Silas, then I get to hold the baby. I’m clearly the only parent in this house.” Bay frowned and Nate looked at him. “Except for you.”

“Hmph.” Bay looked back at Cameron. “Is that why your nose is broken? Can you not defend yourself?”

Cameron’s eyes narrowed at him, but Nate used Cameron’s divided attention to steal his baby. She wiggled in his arms, giggling happily when Nate kissed her cheek. “Such a pretty child from such an ugly man. Amazing.”

Cameron looked dryly at Nate. “I am not ugly.”

“Your heart is,” Nate said, glibly, sitting down next to Bay. He kissed her fingers and smiled down at her. “You, on the other hand, are a cutie, Eden.” Eden kept wiggling in Nate’s lap, chewing on her shirt while he looked her over, clearly making sure she wasn’t hurt. “I can’t believe she’s still alive,” he said, mostly to himself. “I can’t imagine you or Nik have anything to do with that,” Nate directed at Cameron.

Cameron’s brows flattened. “Clearly you lack imagination.”

Nate just ignored him and kept smiling at Eden. He perked up and looked at Bay. “Wanna hold her?”

Bay gave the baby demon a long, long look. Eden reached a small hand at Bay and Bay frowned at her, and at the drool that was dribbling down her chin. He wasn’t stupid enough to think babies weren’t messy but still, he didn’t want covered in demon baby slobber. “Do I have to?”

“Afraid of a baby?” Cameron asked. “A little late considering your condition, don’t you think?”

Bay grabbed the nearest toy and threw it at Cameron’s head. “Shut up.” He looked back at Eden, trying to keep the distaste off his face. “Clean her up and put something in her mouth so she stops chewing on her shirt.”

Nate hummed happily while immediately got up and did as told. He wiped the drool from Eden’s chin and popped a yellow and green pacifier in Eden’s mouth. He kissed the top of her head. “There, now you aren’t chewing through that brand new sweater,” he said down at her.

Eden gnawed happily on the pacifier while Nate brought her over to Bay. Bay carefully took her and then realized he couldn’t sit her on his lap. Tears instantly starting welling. “I can’t sit her on my lap,” his voice broke.

“Gods, just sit her on your stomach, you crybaby,” Cameron said.

“Shut up, Cameron,” Bay snapped as soon as Nate said, “Cameron.”

Bay forced himself to blink back the tears and sat her on his too big belly. “I will never be pregnant again,” he muttered, wiping his face. He chose to ignore the too neutral look on Nate’s face and looked down at Eden instead. She wasn’t as wiggly as she had been with Nate and luckily was calm on his belly as she lightly touched his face. He wrinkled his nose at her tiny sharp nails. “She needs her nails cut.”

“Shut up,” Cameron said, irritably.

Bay looked at him with raised brows. “What?”

“I know she needs her nails cut; It’ll get done eventually.”

Bay rolled his eyes and looked back down at the tiny demon baby. “You poor kid.” Eden’s only response was pulling at her tutu. “I refuse to believe you put her in this,” Bay said, to his still frowning brother.

Cameron grunted. “I did not. I have taste.”

“Mm, where?” Nate asked, flicking Cameron a head to toe look.

Cameron’s lips curled faintly. “I am more than willing to let you find out.”

Bay swallowed his growl, and looked back down at Eden, who was trying her damndest to get the tutu off. Next to him, Nate said, “I don’t have the time to waste.”

“Will you please stop your measuring contest,” Bay said, exasperated. “We get it, you hate each other.” Nate kissed the top of his head apologetically, curling up against Bay’s side. Bay half whined, “Stop ittt. You keep crowding me.” Nate pouted, but before Nate could pull back, Bay hooked his fingers in Nate’s thigh. “Stay.” When Nate huffed an amused laugh, Bay pouted. “Stop laughing at meee.”

Eden wiggled impatiently in Bay’s lap, clearly getting annoyed he wasn’t giving her enough attention. Bay pressed his lips to the top of her head, inhaling the pure baby scent. “I don’t think she likes her clothes,” he observed, watching her continuously tearing at the tutu.

“That’s because she has taste,” Cameron said.

“Or because she’s an infant,” Nate said.

Cameron had just rolled his eyes when Silas appeared in the doorway with Nate’s brother. He eyed Eden on Bay’s stomach. “So, this is Lev’s baby. She seems… energetic.”

“It’s the crack,” Nik said, cheerfully.

Bay frowned, but Nate’s frown was deeper. “I really hope you’re joking.” Nik’s eyeroll was answer enough for Nate as he turned back to the baby on Bay’s stomach and kissed the top of Eden’s head. “You poor baby,” Nate teased. “I hope you give him hell.”

“Are you being this fussy because you haven’t been laid in six months?” Nik asked.

Bay’s face inflamed, but it was Nate’s turn to throw a toy at Nik’s head. “Are you this fussy because you haven’t been laid in three days?” Nate asked, sharply.

“Yes I am,” Nik said, barely catching the toy block before it smacked him in the face. “We’ve been busy.”

Nate’s smile was far too sweet to be actually genuine. “And you’ll keep being busy. Poor you. For what? The next eighteen years at least.” Nik’s face paled at least three shades while he looked at the baby starting to fuss in Bay’s lap, still tearing at her tutu.

“Well, clearly she thinks you’re wrong,” Nik observed.

“Or she’s tired,” Cameron said, annoyed.

Nate said, “She can nap here, if you want.”

Nik chewed on his bracelets absently while Cameorn got up from the chair to pick her up. “I don’t want. We came, we’re going. Nik?”

“We just got hereee.”

“Then stay.” Cameron said, unfazed by Nik pouting. He pulled the still fussy baby into his chest and walked out of the room. Nate shot him an amused look before getting up and following after when Nik started going with Cameron, leaving Bay alone with Silas. “Going to be getting into any more fights around infants?” Bay asked, dryly.

Shame flickered across Silas’ face. “Cameron started it,” he muttered.

“And I’m finishing it,” Bay said. “If you get into anything like that around Lucas, you can say goodbye to being anywhere near him. I am not going to risk my baby getting hurt over some alpha pissing contest.”

Silas instantly sobered up. “I understand. Won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t,” Bay said, settling into the couch. “And give me that blanket.”

------

Reneé pulled up in Cameron’s driveway. After sitting there for a long moment, she leaned forward on the steering wheel and squinted up at the mansion. “No wonder Mar likes to hang out with Nik, if he’s shacking up with a guy who lives here,” she muttered. She got out of Cin’s car, spinning the keys around her finger once. It was cold enough she could see her breath in front of her. How demons could stand this weather, she didn’t know.

With a small sigh, she marched right up the steps. Before she could even get to the door to knock, the sentry standing there moved in front of it, hand dropping to his sword. “Who are you?”

Reneé blinked, rubbing her arms. “Reneé Claire. Lev’s cousin.”

The sentry’s stony expression didn’t waver. “Is that supposed to mean anything to me?” He said.

Reneé huffed. “Lev does live here doesn’t he?” She asked, before sighing. “I know Nik, too. Makes the best empanadas I’ve ever eaten, and Amara’ll swear by that too, if she’s in a good mood.”

The sentry didn’t say a damn word for a good long moment, but in the end he stepped aside for her. Reneé eyed him suspiciously, but stepped up to knock anyway. And a second time, when several minutes went by. And again, when-

The door swung open, to reveal Nik.

“You look like shit,” Reneé said without thinking. She stood by it, though.

Nik gave her the flattest look she’d ever seen. “Wow. First of all, I never look like shit-”

“There’s a first time for everything,” she said, cutting him off. “Let me in, it’s freezing. We can bicker inside.”

“Why are you here?” Nik asked, not moving.

“Because I heard you and Lev had acquired a baby and I wanted to see. Besides, you’re never around anymore.” Reneé crossed her arms.

Nik’s smile was thin. “Miss me?”

“Well, yeah. Mar-mar can’t cook for shit, and you’re the one with a sense of humor. Besides, who else is gonna take me to the beach. I can't get her within a hundred miles of one.” She widened her eyes at him. “Let me in, Nik. I can hear the baby screaming from here, and I’m betting you want it to stop.”

“We can handle it,” Nik replied, defensively Reneé thought.

Reneé lifted an eyebrow. “I love you, Nik, you’re a far better older brother than Amara will ever be, but you know jack shit about babies and I can tell that with one look at you.” She tried to duck past him, and was stopped by Nik’s hand on her forehead. She stomped her foot. “Nik. I won’t even tell Amara you left me on the fucking porch in the cold so you could jerk your own ego.”

Nik leaned against the doorway. “Does she even know you’re here?”

Reneé flushed hotly. “Does it matter? She’d be pissed either way. Mad at me for coming, mad at you for leaving me to freeze. Best to keep her anger pointed at me. She’ll forgive me quicker.”

All Nik did was smile faintly. “Are you sure about that?”

“With how often you come to visit now? Or should I say, how little you come over? Uh, yeah.”

She was a little satisfied with the flash of guilt in his expression. “Yeah, yeah, come on in, then. Before you freeze your ass off.”

“Thank you,” Reneé said primly, scooting past. She still stopped to kiss his cheek, though, before shrugging off her heavy coat. “Seriously, though, don’t tell Mar I was here. She doesn’t want me around Cameron.”

“Yeah, no, I’m not telling her shit. She’ll get mad at me for you being around Cameron,” Nik said, taking her coat from her and throwing it at a sentry.

Reneé patted his cheek. “That’s what I thought. So do I just follow the sound of the screaming infant or are you going to show me to them? I’m assuming Lev is with the baby?”

“You assume wrong. Lev’s not here,” Nik said, heading down the hall. “He’s abandoned us in our time of need.”

“Where is he?” Reneé trotted after Nik. “And slow down, Nik, my legs aren’t that long.”

Nik didn’t even bother, which left Reneé to awkwardly hustle after him. Her annoyance vanished as she peeked into what was obviously a nursery to find a very pale man in a suit holding an equally pale baby who was clearly not having any of this. The poor thing was flushed grey in the face with how loud she was screaming, arching her back awkwardly. Reneé was impressed with how the man was staying calm in the face of such fierce tears, though he looked downright exhausted.

“Stars, please let me help you,” Reneé said without thinking.

The man slowly turned his attention to her. It was impressive how imposing he could seem while holding a screaming infant. “Who the fuck are you?”

Reneé paused, considering her answer. “I’m Reneé. Lev’s cousin,” she finally said, before adding, “Amara’s little sister.”

He stared at her a long moment before saying, “And what do you know about babies? Aren’t you like, twelve?”

Reneé bit back a retort. Maybe she did spend too much time with Amara. “I’m eighteen,” she corrected him lightly. “And I know a little. Amara was supposed to take a class on this sort of stuff, and I did her homework for her so she could pass high school and keep a roof over our heads at the same time. I still remember most of it, it was only a few years ago.” She flicked a look at Nik, pursing her lips to keep another comment at bay.

The man switched his attention to Nik. “And what about you?”

Nik winced. “I don’t remember ninety-five percent of school, Cameron. I was stoned the entire time.”

Reneé cleared her throat. “Check and see if her bottom front teeth are coming in. You should be able to feel it under the gums, if they are. It might be why she’s so fussy; teething hurts.”

Cameron checked, much to her relief, even if the baby tried to bite down viciously when he did. “I can feel one. Now what.”

Reneé hesitated, thinking. “If you don’t have teething rings yet, probably get one. Give her something cold to chew on until? Like, I don’t know, a frozen washcloth? Mar swears my parents rubbed whiskey on our gums, but she might be talking out of her ass, and it’s not like I can ask them. Uh, if she’s really in pain, they make baby pain medicine, too. Might help her sleep if her mouth doesn’t hurt constantly.”

Cameron looked over at Nik, who turned around and left. After Nik was gone, Cameron gave Reneé a slow once over. “So has Nik slept with you too?”

Reneé made a face. “No offense to Nik, but ew. He’s more like an older brother. When he bothers to show up.”

Cameron shrugged. “I don’t hold his leash. Usually.”

Reneé tried her best not to make another face. Even with Nik and Amara not in the room she couldn’t escape those sorts of comments. “I didn’t expect you too. Not your fault Lev’s suddenly more interesting.” She paused. “Not Lev’s fault either. He’s too sweet for it.”

Cameron shrugged. He offered his finger to the baby, who immediately started chewing on it. At least it got her to stop screaming, though big fat tears still slid down her cheeks.

“Try rubbing her gums, if you can?” Reneé offered. “Just a little.”

The look Cameron flicked her didn’t make her feel any more comfortable, but he did as she suggested. It seemed to help, so Reneé leaned against the doorway to wait for Nik. He seemed to take his sweet time showing up, but Reneé was proved right; the baby chewed contentedly on the wash cloth the moment they got it in her mouth.

So,” Nik said conversationally, “Where are you staying while Amara has her tri-monthly fuck fest?”

Reneé grimaced. “First off, ew. Second, just... around. Places.”

Cameron spoke up. “Lie again and you’re leaving.”

Reneé flicked him a look. “I’m couchsurfing. So. Around. Not quite sure who I’m staying with tonight, but I’ll figure it out. I’m a big girl.”

She watched the way Nik looked to Cameron, and the resigned expression on Cameron’s face.

“Nik, no,” she said before Nik could say anything. “I’m fine, and Amara would kill you if she knew you let me stay longer than I already have.”

“Nik, yes. You are not fine, and Amara would rip my balls off if I didn’t let you stay with me when you didn’t have anywhere to go. I am very attached to my balls. And so is Cameron.”

Cameron, to his credit, just rolled his eyes.

Reneé shook her head. “I’ve got the whole day to figure it out. I don't want to be too much of a bother. I just wanted to see you and Lev and the baby and then scoot along on my merry way.”

Nik’s smile was too sharp. “And who said that was an option?”

Reneé pursed her lips. “And I think that’s my cue to leave.” When she made a move for the door, Nik stepped in her way. “Really, Nik?”

“Reneé.” Cameron’s voice from behind startled her. She turned, eyeing him warily. That was all he had to say, apparently, but Reneé wasn’t stupid enough to miss the warning.

Facing Nik again, she said, more resigned than anything, “This is less hospitality and more kidnapping, you know that, right?”

“I consider it aggressive hospitality,” Nik replied glibly. “And you’re not a kid.”

Reneé rolled her eyes. “I could have just asked Gramma to let me stay with her. It’ll piss off Amara just as much.”

“Maybe next time you should think about showing up unannounced.”

“Right. See if I come visit you ever again,” Reneé shot back. She huffed, just to make sure Nik knew she was displeased, before glancing over at the baby. She seemed to have fallen asleep on Cameron’s shoulder, periodically sucking on the washcloth she had loosely held in her little fist.

@idreamonpaper @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @halstudies @alittleyellowdinosaur

#hell to pay #ch: cameron #ch: nik #writeblr #writers on tumblr #wip boost #amwriting

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ma-sulevin · 4 years

Photo

In which it’s clear that I don’t get to do recreational drugs and have decided to make the Lamb of God Church episcopal for no particular reason. Some of the tags are more applicable to this chapter than the others, so, uh. Give them another glance.

Pairing: Sharky Boshaw/Female Deputy Rating: E, but mostly for swearing Warnings: Canon-typical violence, but nothing particularly explicit I don’t think Word Count: 6300, chapter four of twelve

Read it on AO3 instead and say nice things.

---

It’s almost like John knows exactly when she crosses over the Henbane River and back into the Valley. Her radio crackles to life, interrupting the comfortable silence in the car; Sharky jerks in his seat like he was falling asleep, and Mattie covers up her giggle with a little cough.

“Why… is it so difficult for you to understand that all of your efforts are absolutely, unquestionably… worthless?”

She hisses at his words, gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles blanch. She grits her teeth and pushes too hard on the accelerator, taking the car from a comfortably legal 45 miles per hour up to 55. Sharky reaches up and grabs the handle over the door, but doesn’t speak.

“You believe you're on the righteous path, you believe you're a force for good, but you're not! You're selfish. All you're really doing is quenching your thirst for blood.”

His voice is mocking, derisive, and she bares her teeth even though he can’t see. She sees a peggie on the side of the road with a regular person in the dirt on their knees, and she veers to run them over without a second thought. The peggie crumples; the captive hops to their feet and sprints away.

Maybe John has a point. Maybe she does have a thirst for blood.

Like his people are any better.

“We're going to share a beautiful moment, and you're going to tell me your deepest… darkest… fears.”

The radio clicks off. Mattie forces herself to ease off the accelerator, but she can’t make her fingers relax on the wheel.

“A beautiful moment, huh? Sounds gross.”

She lets out a bark of laughter, fingers relaxing on their own accord. When she glances at Sharky out of the corner of her eyes, he’s smirking at her, eyes sparkling.

“Man, he sure does have a hard-on for you.”

“Oh, my god,” she laughs again, reaching over to slap at his arm. “Gross.”

“So I’m thinkin’,” he continues, and she can hear him smiling even though she’s trying to focus on the road, “you should probably just fuck and get it over with.”

“No! Sharky! Oh my god .” She hits him again, but they’re both laughing. “You’re gonna be sorry when I throw up in this car.”

He just shrugs and fishes around in his pockets for what turns out to be a crumpled pack of cigarettes. “I mean, if you don’t wanna give one up for the team…” He’s faster at finding his lighter, but he only gets to take one good drag before Mattie’s reaching over and plucking the cigarette out of his mouth.

“Thanks, dude,” she says, sticking it between her lips instead. She winks at him. “Thoughtful of you.”

He rolls his eyes and lights a second one. This one she lets him keep.

---

She’s met Nick Rye a handful of times, mostly at the occasional neighborhood barbeque she was bribed by Joey or Staci into attending, once to give him a ticket for going near double the speed limit in the Henbane (she knocked the recorded speed down on the ticket to give him a break, but he was going very fast), and the sight of peggies crawling all over his property makes her stomach turn.

Boomer is thrilled to be free of the car, running ahead with gleeful barks to bite at the heels of the first peggie he comes across. Shit’s on fire and there’s debris on the runway, and she suddenly remembers she never got to take the aerial tour he was always bragging about.

Sharky helps her bring down the peggies, setting even more shit on fire, and then the little battle is done (when did killing only six people become a “little battle”?) and they find Nick pacing in his garage.

He gives her a full on hug when he sees her, almost knocks the hat off his head with his enthusiasm, and she squeezes him back in exhausted relief. She’d rather die -- actually die -- than have something bad happen to him or Kim. They’re good people, some of the best.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he says, then he releases her from his hug and puts his hands on her shoulders instead. He shakes her a little, still worked up, and is too loud when he says, “We’re fuckin’ trapped! I’m gonna kill that sonuvabitch John Seed.”

Mattie nods at him, not all that concerned at the threat even though technically she should be. “What’s up, Nick?”

“You see those peggies take off with my plane? We need it! Without it, my family is fucked. Please.” He looks up at Sharky, then back at Mattie, eyebrows drawn together over his mirrored glasses. She can see herself in them, dirty and sweaty, deep circles under her eyes, already nodding before he’s finished asking, “I need your help.”

“You think John has it as his ranch?” She’s never been, personally, but she knows people who have been, and it’s supposed to be beautiful. It also has a private airstrip, because John flies planes as a hobby . “I guess it’s the only other place that makes sense.”

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” Nick says, but he’s already letting her go and walking deeper into his garage. “I just can’t leave Kim, you know.”

Mattie and Sharky trail after him. “Yeah. How’s she doing?”

“She’s due any second. Here, you feelin’ okay?” Nick squats behind the counter and pops back up with ammo boxes in his hands. He sets them down and disappears again, coming up with a first aid kit. “I really appreciate you doin’ this for us. You know how to fly?”

She shrugs, takes the ammo she needs and then lets Sharky take a look. She doesn’t take the first aid kit.

“I’ve flown once,” she says, and it feels like a lifetime ago. “Stace -- uh, one of the other deputies was a licensed pilot, and he used to make me practice on the simulator so he could boss me around.”

Nick winces, but he nods anyway. “I can talk you through it. Just call me on the radio when you find my plane.”

“Sure thing,” she says. “I’ll go now.”

She makes it out of the garage with Nick still thanking her, then she turns to Sharky as soon as Nick is out of earshot. “I want you to stay here.”

“What? No fuckin’ way.” He’s too loud, so she shushes him, but he just glares down at her.

She falls into her cop stance without really thinking about it, one hand on her hip and the other hovering near her pistol. She levels a glare at him and he stares right back, not at all intimidated by the woman he spent the night spooning through her tears. “It’s dangerous, and it’s faster if I just get in by myself and fly the plane home.”

“You can’t go by yourself!” Sharky flails his arms around as though that will help him make his point. “It’s dangerous! You need my backup!”

“I need to go in quietly, and you’re good at a lot of things, but I don’t think being quiet is one of them.”

He frowns, the fight melting out of him. “I don’t like it.”

“I’ll come right back here,” she says, promises. He doesn’t understand she won’t die if she’s alone. She won’t die, she can’t die, but he… he can. She doesn’t want him to die. She doesn’t want that on her conscience, not when she can keep him safe just by making him stay with the Ryes. “Okay?”

She offers him her fist, and he bumps it after a second’s hesitation.

She makes it halfway to the ranch before he catches up with her.

“God damn it, Sharky.” She covers her eyes with her hands. “I thought you were going to stay with Nick.”

He offers her a grin. “You see, I thought about it, but I just can’t sit by and let you walk into danger by yourself. You haven’t arrested me yet, and I respect that you totally could’ve by now, but that means I owe you. You’ve pulled my ass out of the fire, literally and figuratively, and I just think I need to stick by you. You know. Ride or die?”

“Ride or die?”

Christ, that makes her chest hurt. What has she done to inspire that loyalty?

“Yeah!” He shrugs. “So… we doin’ this?”

She wants to say no. She wants to send him back to Nick, back to where he’s safe. But… he won’t listen. He obviously is dead set on staying with her. All she can do is try to keep him safe.

“Yeah,” she says. “I guess we are.”

---

John’s ranch is absolutely crawling with peggies, and Mattie sits at the edge of the property, still concealed in the trees, watching them go about their business through her binoculars. Boomer sits alert at her side, ears cocked, nose testing the air every few seconds in case one of the cultists gets close enough to smell. Sharky sits at her other side, chin in his hand, watching the peggies with a sense of detached boredom.

She finally lowers the binoculars when he sighs and starts gnawing on his nails.

“Are you having a problem?”

“I’m just ready to bang some peggie heads together, that’s all,” he says, and at least he’s kinda quiet this time. “Didn’t think it would take this long.”

Anger flares, hot and bright. “I’m trying not to get you fuckin’ killed since you won’t fuckin’ stay at the Ryes’.” Sharky freezes at the bite in her voice, lowers his hand to his lap and presses his lips together. His expression looks so much like a kicked puppy that she’s torn between laughing and feeling bad; she settles for feeling bad. “Just… give me another minute, okay? We don’t want to burn the place down.”

When his expression doesn’t shift, she leans into his space and bumps his shoulder with hers. He huffs, then when she looks back over at him, he smiles.

“Maybe you don’t want to burn the place down.”

She raises the binoculars back up to her face, finds the peggie sniper standing on John’s roof. “Keep it in your pants, Boshaw.”

She listens to him snickering for a minute and doesn’t fight the smile from blooming on her face. It’s almost easy to forget they’re about to commit several crimes in the process of stealing Nick’s plane back from a cult leader.

“Okay, I’m going to sneak around that way,” she says, pointing around the back of the house, towards the garage. “You cover me, take out anyone who happens to notice. Once you see me in the plane, head back to Nick’s.”

Sharky frowns again. “But--”

“Would you just fucking listen--”

Boomer barks, once, a sharp warning before taking off. Something lands in the dirt between Sharky and Mattie, comes to a rest against her knee, and she doesn’t even panic when she looks down to see a grenade, just scoops it up and tosses it back where she thinks it came from -- back toward John’s house, into his yard, where it explodes and sets a truck on fire.

“Holy shit,” Sharky starts, but she barrels right over him with a simple command.

“Go!”

She rolls to the side and vaguely hopes he’s done the same, then she pops up right in the space of the peggie who threw the grenade, running forward to finish the job. She punches him in the throat, then grabs the back of his head and introduces it to her knee. It crunches sickeningly, sends pain radiating up toward her hip, and when she drops him there’s a dark, wet stain on her jeans.

The rest of the cultists fall quickly, though one gets close enough to give her what she’s sure is going to be a beautiful black eye when she’s busy ripping the wires out of the radio tower. If they hadn’t cut off most of the usual means of communication in the county to keep citizens from calling for help, they wouldn’t have to keep setting these things up for her to tear apart.

John’s front yard is littered with corpses, abandoned weapons, and two burning trucks filling the air with thick smoke and the acrid scent of burning rubber and hot metal. Boomer runs up to her with a handgun in his mouth, and she’d be more worried if she’d never seen him do it before. She can’t quite figure out how to get him to quit, so she just leans down and takes the slobbery weapon from him and scratches him behind the ear in thanks.

He runs off again, and his spot on the porch is replaced by Sharky who has his hands tucked deep in his pockets and a wide grin on his face.

“Glad you brought me now?”

She rolls her eyes at him, but that grin is infectious and she can’t stop herself from laughing just a heartbeat later. “You’re a dork,” she says, and he just keeps beaming down at her. “Wanna go look through John’s shit?”

“Hell yeah!” Sharky bounces like this is the first time he’s considered he has mostly free reign of John’s house, takes three normal steps toward the open front doors before breaking into a jog. Mattie trails behind him, not hiding her little smile, fingers brushing over the tender spot along her cheekbone.

It takes her three tries to find John’s kitchen, first opening up a door to a study and then a formal dining room (of fucking course -- he probably hosts Seed family dinners here, all the fucking cult leaders in one place, listening to Joseph preach and watching Faith float around the room), and then when she finally pushes the kitchen door open she nearly bumps into Sharky on his way out. He’s got a real ice pack in his hand, the kind with the little gel balls inside so it will stay flexible, and he’s wrapping a hand towel around it.

“You okay?” Even with her cold fingers pressed back to her bruise, concern that he’s hurt and she hadn’t noticed fills her, wrinkles her forehead.

He rolls his eyes at her, then cups her jaw with one hand to hold her still and presses the ice pack against her temple. His fingers tighten when she hisses and flinches away, holding her still, and she glares up at him with her good eye.

“ ’s cold.” It’s also most of why she was looking for the kitchen, and she’s only arguing because she’s kind of embarrassed at how she assumed it was for him and how good it feels to have someone worry about her beyond what she can do for them. His fingers are warm where they’re still cupping her jaw, his thumb sweeping across her cheek, and she’s almost entirely sure he’ll be able to feel her blushing just as easy as he can see it, so she closes her eyes and leans into the gentle touch.

“I came in here lookin’ for frozen peas or some shit, but figured this would do just as well. Hell of a shiner you’re getting here, Dep. Didn’t think you’d let a peggie ever get close enough to you to take a swing.”

She licks her lips before she speaks. “It was a lucky punch.”

The ice repositions on her face, moves closer to where the punch landed, right where the bruising is worst. “You got shit luck.”

The laugh that escapes her is too high pitched, a little too hysterical, because Sharky doesn’t even know the half of it. His stroking thumb stills on her face, and she forces herself to pull back from the breakdown she can feel bubbling up in her chest. She doesn’t know if she’s going to keep laughing or burst into tears or just curl into Sharky’s body heat like a cat, but she needs to stop it.

She takes a deep breath and reaches up to take the ice pack from him. He doesn’t move right away, not even when she covers his ice-cold fingers with her own slightly warmer ones, just stands there with his hands on her face until she opens her eyes and looks up at him.

The moment stretches, silent, and then it’s gone as he lets his hands drop back to his sides and he takes a step back. “I’m gonna see if I can find any contraband,” he informs her, too loud in the quiet. “Or like, a weird sex dungeon. Seems like Johnny’d have one, somewhere.”

“You sound like Adelaide,” Mattie says, forcing a smile, glad for the subject change. She pushes deeper into the kitchen, admiring the size and decor despite herself. It would be amazing to cook in here.

Sharky’s laugh follows him down the hall, and Mattie’s finally alone again, able to lean against the counter and groan into her hand.

How has her life come to this?

---

John calls her on the radio when she takes off in Nick’s plane, clammy hands clutching the throttle and her heart already in her throat. When she hears his hissed voice coming through the receiver, she’s afraid for a few heart-stopping moments that she’ll actually be sick in Nick’s plane and she’ll have to return it to him covered in vomit.

She swallows hard and doesn’t get sick.

John’s not sure whether to be more mad that she’s taken over his house or that she’s stolen Nick’s plane, but he does manage to make a confusing reference to his walls screaming and a threat about skinning her and hanging her skin over the mantle -- which, gross, who even thinks about that? -- and she resolutely ignores the talk button on her radio. He doesn’t deserve any response she can think of.

Nick comes on when John’s finished pitching his goddamned hissy fit, guiding her through a couple of exercises to make sure the plane’s in top shape, then she flies the plane along the river back to his house.

If flying didn’t have to happen so high off the ground, she’d like it a lot more.

---

By the time she makes it back to the ranch -- having helped Nick defend his property, load his car, un load his car, and accepted water and snacks from Kim -- it’s dark out and weariness has settled so deep inside her bones she’s not sure she’ll ever feel fully rested again.

The vehicle fires have burned themselves out in John’s driveway, the doors are closed, and no peggies are in sight. Boomer’s asleep on the front porch, but he doesn’t do much more than open his eyes and sigh heavily, like he’s saying good, you’re back, do you know what time it is, young lady?, and roll over to sleep more.

The place is hazy with smoke when she opens the door, the distinctive scent of marijuana hitting her right in the face. She coughs, starts to hold her breath, then she just laughs.

“Sharky?”

He waves when he hears his name, and she finds him reclining on one of the leather couches, hat and shoes off, a joint in his hand and an ashtray balanced on his chest.

“Party got started without ya,” he says, smile soft as he offers the joint over to her. When she hesitates, he prods, “C’mon, who’s gonna arrest you for it?”

Oh, well, fuck it. “Good point,” she says, and takes it from him. She inhales deeply, closes her eyes and holds her breath for as long as she can before releasing a thick cloud of smoke. “You been carrying this the whole time?”

“That’s the best part! John had two dime bags sitting right on the table here. Wonder what Joe would think about that.”

She takes another deep drag before she starts to feel her muscles loosening. “They probably think it’s okay, ‘cause it’s natural, like the bliss or whatever the fuck,” she says, then passes the joint back and sits right on the low table to start unlacing her boots. “Which is, whatever, I don’t care, but it would be fuckin’ hilarious to finally nail John on possession when we know he’s doing all this other shit.”

The urge to start laughing rises up and she fights against it, focuses on getting out of her boots, then out of her bloody flannel. She badly needs a shower, but the thought of walking around until she finds one is just exhausting.

“What’s all that?” Sharky’s hand is suddenly in her space, fingers brushing over the sharpie marks on her arm. She shivers and doesn’t hide it as his touch tickles her sensitive skin, turning her hand to catch his as he starts to pull away.

“It’s how many times I’ve died,” she says, honesty coming out before she can think to lie. “I need to add one, though, since there was a fight at Nick’s.”

Sharky’s hand disappears from her view, and her stomach drops when she realizes what she’s said, what she’s admitted to, what he must be thinking --

“What the fuck?”

His hand is back, grabbing her arm and pulling her forward so he can fully see the lines covering her skin. The oldest ones, from Fall's End, are starting to fade, but there are so many others, covering her from the crook of her elbow right down to her wrist. She started out making the marks too big, so they start to taper off around #15, but they’re still easy enough to count.

“Thirty-two? You tryna tell me you died thirty-two times?”

She risks a glance up at his face, breath still caught up in her throat, but it doesn’t look like he’s laughing at her, or like he thinks she’s gone crazy. He just looks… surprised, almost in awe.

“Yeah. Mostly at the beginning, when I was by myself.” Her breath catches again when he runs the fingers of his free hand down her forearm again, clears her throat to move past it. “You’n Hurk helped a lot.”

“You’re not dead, though.”

“No. Every time I just… listen, I can’t explain it, okay? It really fucking hurts, and then everything goes black, and then I start over a few minutes before I died, with enough time to do something different. If that grenade today had exploded, I would have started over right before it landed between us, and I would’ve known to throw it back.”

She watches his face as he listens to her and stares at her arm. His eyes are red, his lips parted like he’s so shocked he just forgot to close them, and the reverence on his face is almost enough to make her cry.

“Is that what happened? Today?”

“No.” She shakes her head, her weariness creeping back and making her eyelids too heavy. “I’ve just tossed enough grenades back where they came from to not be freaked out by it, s’all.”

“Well, goddamn,” Sharky murmurs. He releases her hand and sits up straighter, meeting her eyes from his seat on the couch. “God damn .”

“Yeah, that’s the sum of it.”

Sharky takes another hit and passes the joint off to her. She takes it then snuffs it out on the ashtray that he’d let fall to the floor when he sat up.

“So you believe me?”

He blinks at her as he refocuses his attention on her instead of whatever he was looking at on the ceiling. “What? ’Course I do. You wouldn’t lie about that, would you, Dep?”

“Well. No. I just thought you’d think I’m crazy.”

He blinks at her real slow, then shakes his head again. “You’ve heard all Hurky’s stories, right?” He stops talking long enough to pull his hoodie off over his head, then he lies down on the couch. “You think all that’s real, but I wouldn’t believe you? None of this shit makes sense -- hey, watch the moneymaker.”

Mattie, who started crawling into Sharky’s space the second he was horizontal, finally gives in to the giggles brought on by a combination of relief and the gentle high from John’s weed. She removes her knee from between his legs -- the source of his panic -- by just collapsing onto his chest. He shifts, wrapping one arm around her and tucking the other behind his head.

“I don’t know if we’re in, like, a video game, or a simulation, or some fuckin’ Groundhog Day situation, or what. You’re like a, a, oh, what’re those birds or whatever that die and then come back to life? With the fire?”

She’s still giggling quietly, head on his chest, eyes already drooping as he warms her. “Phoenix.”

“Hell yeah, you’re like a phoenix! Joe-bro is definitely going down now. You can’t be stopped.” There’s a pause as his fingers tickle against the bare skin of her arm, just at the place where the strap of her tank top is, and she lets the motion lull her to the edge of sleep. “Thirty-two times. Goddamn, shorty, you’re somethin’ else.”

She falls asleep with a smile on her face.

---

There’s a little dog in John’s bedroom. It’s tiny and white and fluffy, and the minute it sees Mattie walking in, it runs forward with its tail going so fast she thinks its butt might lift right up. The room smells like piss, and she feels a deep pang of guilt -- not for John’s rug, which has obviously been the dog’s bathroom over the last eighteen hours, but because the dog has been stuck in one room without food or water.

It’s wearing a little collar with its rabies license and a little heart-shaped tag that says its name is Moose, and the search for a shower is derailed as she scoops the dog up and takes it outside.

“You got a dog? What the hell you got a dog for?” Sharky’s eating at the long table by the empty fireplace, but he abandons his food when she appears at the foot of the stairs with the little bundle of excited white fur. “John has a dog?”

“Apparently.” Sharky opens the back door for her and follows her into the yard. Moose doesn’t move a single step away before he starts to pee in the grass, and doesn’t even care when Boomer trots up for an investigative sniff. “Poor little guy was in the bedroom upstairs. Did you see dog food in the kitchen, or anything?”

“Lemme check.” He takes another second to stare down at the dog, then he kind of bumps his elbow into hers before he goes back into the house.

After Moose finishes peeing, he returns Boomer’s attentions, sniffing the new animal until they’ve both decided the other one can be trusted. Curiosity sated, they start to play, Boomer encouraging Moose to chase him around the yard before returning the favor.

It’s cute, watching them run around like this. It’s so much closer to what she thought adult life would be like than what she has right now that an ache settles into her chest and she has to clear her throat to stop herself from crying.

It doesn’t matter.

Moose cuts to the house mid-run, zooming past Mattie and through the still-open door without stopping. She follows, Boomer ignoring her, and finds Sharky in the kitchen spooning food from a can into a little steel bowl. Moose is at Sharky’s feet, standing on his hind legs, spinning in the occasional excited circle. It’s fucking adorable, and Mattie says as much.

Sharky glances at her over his shoulder, grinning. “Thanks, chica. I do my best.”

His smile grows when she snorts and then starts to laugh.

“We’ll have to take Moose into Fall's End,” she says, watching Sharky bend down to put the bowl on the floor. “We can’t leave him here.”

“Whatever you say,” Sharky says. “You’re the boss.”

---

Being in Fall's End means talking to everyone in Fall's End, and that means chatting with Jerome about the people who need her help around the county. There are even more now than there were before, farmers and just regular citizens who have been holed up this whole time who suddenly need help or have information for her. Some of them are willing to exchange hard-earned supplies for her assistance, and she knows just by the serious expression on Jerome’s face that she can’t say no this time.

The two of them bend over a map of the valley together, tracing out routes with their fingers to see where she should go first and how many people she can help as fast as possible. Sharky leaves them to it as soon as he gets bored, taking Moose with him, and comes back a while later with beers to share and food for all of them.

“Mary May’s gonna watch the dog,” he says, settling sideways on one of the pews so he can stretch his leg out in front of him along the seat. “Didn’t figure it’d be all that useful against the peggies.”

“Thanks, Shark,” she says, smile warm. She turns back to Jerome in time to catch his own soft smile at the exchange. When he catches her eye, he looks down and twists the top off his own drink.

For a while, it’s quiet.

They decide to head up to the Lamb of God episcopal church first, following up on rumors that Grace Armstrong has holed up in it to protect some of the graves from the peggies. Jerome promises to send some resistance members to John’s, thanks Sharky for lunch, and then they go their separate ways.

Sharky keeps up a stream of empty chatter on their way to the other side of the valley, sharing meandering tales from his childhood that are designed to have her laughing as hard as possible. They park a safe distance from the church, around the curve and on the side of the road, but neither of them get out of the car right away.

Mattie has her sleeves rolled up to just below her elbows, the day unseasonably warm, and she stares down at the dark tally marks without speaking for a long moment. When she looks up, Sharky’s already staring at her face, his lips obviously pressed together to keep himself quiet.

“When we go in there, I don’t want you to worry about me. You need to watch out for yourself and stay out of harm’s way, okay? I’ll be fine no matter what -- you won’t.”

“Shor--”

“No.” She holds up one hand to cut off his protests before he can really get started on them, then lowers it and grabs his wrist. “You have to do this. Promise me. I won’t be able to forgive myself if something happens to you.”

He’s frowning hard. “Well, how do you think I’m gonna feel if you die and then stay dead?”

She pushes away the voice inside her that says if only and squeezes his wrist. “I promise you that won’t happen, okay? You believed me last night, you can believe me now.”

She waits until he nods before she releases him and climbs out. Boomer hops out of the backseat and immediately pees on a nearby fence post before dashing off in the direction of the church. Sharky’s muttering something under his breath at a constant rate, but she ignores him because she can’t quite hear all his words -- if he wanted her to know, he’d be talking louder, she’s completely sure.

It only takes a minute of walking before they can hear gunshots, and the pair exchanges a glance before setting out at a jog down the road.

There’s a single peggie truck parked to block traffic, a handful of men ducked behind trees and stone walls closer to the church building, all their fire focused on either one of the headstones or on the church itself. A green laser sight flits over Sharky’s chest, then Mattie’s, then disappears and a woman’s voice comes over the radio.

“ You the deputy Jerome was telling me about? I could use your help. ” A shot rings out then, and the nearest peggie drops dead.

Sharky and Mattie exchange another look and split up, heading in opposite directions to keep themselves from being surrounded. It works for them, habits accidentally forged as they burned their way from the Henbane and back into the Valley, and the few peggies trying to get to Grace fall pretty fast without causing any more damage than they had before they were interrupted.

Once the yard falls quiet, Mattie climbs up and scoot-walks across the roof of the church to where Grace is sitting in the bell tower. She ignores Sharky’s laughter from below her, focused instead on getting to Grace and not fucking falling down because breaking her neck because she slipped would be the shittiest way she’s died yet.

Grace watches her with a half-smile and soft eyes. “You got good timing,” she says, shifting back to make room as Mattie crawls wholly inside the tower and sits with her back against the wall as Grace explains what she’s doing.

The peggies are defiling the graves, specifically of the war heroes like Grace’s dad, in an attempt to demoralize them. It’s a pretty damn good attempt, based on how angry Grace is about it, but Mattie doesn’t know how to respond.

She already feels pretty damn demoralized, graves or no graves.

“I’m a good shot, but I need somebody to watch my back.” Grace cocks her head to the side, ear pointed toward the road. “They’ll be here any second.”

Well. It’s not like Mattie can say no to this.

She nods at Grace, crawl-walks back to the ladder, and slides down. Sharky’s there, a grin on his face, and she punches him in the chest hard enough to make him step back in mock agony.

They don’t have time to tease. Some peggie’s truck squeals to a stop, worn out fuckin’ pads announcing their presence to the people they’re trying to kill, and Mattie and Sharky split up again.

There are more peggies this time, absolutely pouring out of the woods and crawling up the hill. Mattie runs out of rifle ammo and ends up using it to smash one peggie in the head as he tries to light a stick of dynamite stuck in the crack of the crypt.

She lights the dynamite herself and tosses it back to the road. One of their trucks explodes in a deeply satisfying ball of fire that catches two of the closest peggies off guard and throws them to the ground.

Grace snipes them both.

The yard of the church is so chaotic that Mattie doesn’t realize she can’t hear Sharky’s taunting calls until after the last peggie falls to her feet with his blood under her nails.

Even though her blood is rushing in her ears, it’s too quiet. It’s too quiet and she can’t see that green hoodie or the bursts of fire from his flamethrower and she can’t hear his laughter or his comments about how her being spattered in peggie gore is (somehow) hot.

She can’t hear anything but Boomer’s sharp bark from the other side of the cemetery. One quick high-pitched call. Help.

She breaks into a run, hopping over bodies and toppled gravestones in her haste. Cold dread settles in her gut, growing with each footfall, until she knows what she’s going to see before she sees it.

Sharky, on the ground, half-hidden behind one of the larger crypts, slumped to the side. His lips are blue, his face pale, his hoodie soaked through with blood. It’s on the crypt behind him, like he’d been standing against it when he was shot, and when she reaches under his chin to check for a pulse, his eyes stare back at her, empty.

She screams.

Grace is at her side in an instant, checking for a pulse alongside Mattie’s bloody fingers, hissing curses under her breath when she can’t find one either. Mattie pushes the hoodie up over his chest, out of the way, and presses her palms flat against the bullet wounds like she can do anything now to stop the blood.

She told him.

“I told him, I told him to be careful, and this is what happened! I should have made him stay behind, why wouldn’t he listen, why--”

“Hey, hey.” Grace’s hands find her face, fingers wrapping around her chin. “You can’t do this here. Help me get him to my truck.”

Mattie nods, blinks the tears from her eyes, and gets her shoulder under Sharky’s arm. Grace helps her lift him, and together they drag his body through the woods around to the back of the church where Grace’s pickup is waiting for them.

They lay him down in the back, and Mattie hesitates by the tailgate as Grace moves to climb in the driver’s seat.

The engine turns over and covers the sharp cry Mattie releases when a bullet hits her shoulder, but it doesn’t cover the sound the tail light makes when it shatters.

White lights surround her and she falls to the ground, vertigo making her retch. She wants to tell Grace to go, to take Sharky back to Fall’s End and leave her here to whatever punishment John has cooked up for her for taking his home and kidnapping his dog, but she can’t make her body obey her.

She loses consciousness just as one of John’s Chosen starts to haul her upright.

#sharky boshaw #sharky x deputy #far cry 5 #oc: mattie covington

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petitelepus · 5 years

Note

I have a Headcanon reaction request for you (warning its a bit silly its based on a dream) so reader got out of the medbay and is abit delirious and see *insert serious bot* walk past them and readers like 'hey look it *bot* ... Hey look, a hot butt' and just open palm butty slaps them. Can I get some of the serious bots reacting to a butty slap? (in my dream I slapped Megatron's butt and couldnt figure out that it WAS IN FACT attached to Megatron)

I’ll do one scenario because I felt like this needs a scenario. You saw a good dream, my friend.

You’re coming around from anesthesia. Ratchet and First Aid are looking at you as your eyes slowly flutter open and you squint at them because the light is blinding. You mumble incoherently through the literal cotton ball in your mouth and your head is lolling from side to side as you try to remember where you are.

“Wisdom teeth removal was a success. Good job First Aid. Not bad for your first time operating a human.” Ratchet said and patted the young medic on his back. First Aid looks sheepish and nods humbly. “It was an honor working with the liaison. They’re so mellow!”

“It’s the drugs.” Ratchet grunts. You whine like a hurt puppy and make grabby hands at First Aid. Remembering your instructions on how to take care of you after the operation, the younger mech reaches for the side and gives you your plushie Lumi the Panda. You immediately bring the panda to your mouth and start gnawing on it and just as Ratchet is telling you not to bite it after surgery the door to medbay opens.

Cyclonus and Tailgate walk in and take a look at you. Tailgate goos. “Aww, look Cyclonus! They’re so cute!”

You take one look at Tailgate and pull Lumi out of your mouth. “I’m adorable and I wanna eat you.”

Tailgate laughs at you and Cyclonus walks past you to talk with Ratchet about your painkillers and how to treat you for next days until you can come back for a check-up. Just as he walks past you you eye his aft, raise your hand and smack it hard against the purple mech’s aft. There’s a snap and a crack and every mech’s optics or visors flare in horror.

Everyone turns to look at you and you stare your hand that’s already swelling and then look at Cyclonus in shock like you had been the one getting smacked. “Your ass is hard.”

“I’m very aware of that.” Cyclonus replies and you awe at him and then at your hand. “It hurts.”

“Oh Primus, why did you do that!?” Tailgate screams in panic as he looks how your hand is starting to turn purple and it just doubles his panic. “Your hand!”

“Shhh….!” You shush and pap Tailgate’s helm with your broken hand, much to his horror. “Shhh… Quiet little magical marshmallow and get in my mouth…!”

Tailgate looks sick. “I think I might purge my tanks!”

Ratchet covers his face with his palm and motions First Aid to move over. “Get the pain killers. If you thought teeth were bad you’re now about to meet all the bones in a human hand.”

#mtmte #transformers #anon #ask #request #transformers mtmte #first aid #ratchet #cyclonus #tailgate #wisdom teeth removal #broken bones #anesthesia

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crossbows-and-moonshine · 5 years

Text

Let The Flames Begin (Chapter 29)

Shits about to get real in here.

Giving you fair warning, you have like 5 chapters left after this one. You’ll already know this if you have me on Tumblr. If you don't, there will be a sequel, so don't worry. I’ll post my reasons in the last chapter of this one.

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Charlene was waiting for Daryl to get back from hunting. She was pacing by the quarry trying to gather her courage. She was nervous, but she tried to take comfort in Daryl's own words and what Merle said. Daryl admitted he liked her, fuck he had kissed her. And then Merle explained why he had freaked out. He didn't think he was good enough so he presumed it was some kind of trick. She was nervous because for her plan to work, she would have to admit a lot of shit to him and that would be embarrassing. But if it meant he would finally see she was telling the truth, she would do it. She wasn't sure if Daryl would even turn up. Merle had told her when Daryl came back he would send him over here. She didn't have any desire to have this conversation within earshot of people. She had a sinking feeling Daryl might just ignore Merle and go straight to the tent. She didn't regret the kiss. It had been a fucking good kiss and she wanted more of them. But if this was it now. If Daryl didn't want to listen to what she had to say and things were ruined with them, then she would regret it. She didn't want things to be awkward with them or for them to drift apart.

She paced around anxiously, breathing deeply as she pumped herself up for the talk, if it ever happened. She heard someone walking down to the quarry and she glanced up, meeting Daryl's stony gaze.

“Sit down,” she demanded. His eyes widened a little, her tone was unexpected and he squinted, not liking being told what to do. He complied anyway because he wanted to know what the fuck she was going to say. His curiosity would be the death of him. He sat on the rock in front of her, chewing his thumb anxiously. He felt awkward as shit and he knew she was mad by her face. He had fucked up again, but he didn't care. Or at least that's what he told himself.

“You wanna tell me what this bullshit is about me not being good enough for you, or thinking that last night was some kind of trick?” she asked bluntly. His thumb fell from his mouth as he gaped at her. That fucking snitch Merle. He couldn't believe he fucking told her that. He felt the anger brewing inside of him and he clenched his jaw.

“It's fuckin’ true ain't it?” he snapped, glaring up at her. He didn't even want to know what she wanted to say, he didn't want to stick around for this. He got up and stormed off, leaving the girl glaring after him. She followed him, not caring that now they were in camp and some people were milling around.

“Don’t walk away from me Daryl!” she huffed, getting angrier by the second.

“Trouble in paradise?” Shane asked with a smirk as he suddenly appeared, Daryl’s nostrils flared in anger and he was about to open his mouth but Charlene beat him to it.

“Nobody asked you Shane so go the fuck away,” she growled causing Merle to bark a laugh as he sat by a tree. Shane blinked at her, shocked at her tone and even Daryl looked at her like she had grown another head. He hadn't heard her talk like that before but it was a little amusing that she had spoken to that prick like that. Or at least it would have been if she wasn't chasing him down, trying to back him into a corner with her bullshit.

“Hey, no need for that. I’m just making sure there ain’t a problem here,” he spoke in that slow calm tone that rubbed Daryl the wrong way and he squinted at him.

“The only issue here is this asshole walking away from me when I’m trying to talk to him,” she glowered. Daryl looked at her, his jaw set.

“We ain't doin’ this here,” he sneered, gripping her upper arm and leading her back to the fucking quarry. Like fuck he was doing this with all the nosey assholes staring at them. He felt like he had no choice if she was going to do this. When they got back there, he sat down glaring up at her.

“Ya done?” he spat, making her shake her head and scoff.

“Are you?” She retorted harshly. He looked down, clenching his jaw tightly as he glared at the floor.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. She knew he had his issues and that's why she was trying to be patient with him, even if she did want to kick him a little.

“Do you wanna know how long I've liked you for?” she asked, making him scoff bitterly and shake his head as he looked off to the side, clearly not believing her. She was talking shit and he wanted no part of this.

“I‘ve had a crush on you since I was 17,” she admitted, not wavering in her stance as she bore holes into him with her green eyes. Daryl squinted at her distrustfully so she decided to carry on.

“You probably don't even remember. But I was walking home with Anna and you were at her house with Billy, working on his bike. Right away I asked Anna who you were because I thought you were hot. I said something about Anna not shutting her mouth and you actually laughed. I almost died, Anna found it hilarious how into you I was,” she started. Daryl couldn't look at her. He remembered what she was talking about and he had almost forgotten about it. She had been young then, too young for him so he hadn't really thought about her that way. And now the memories of Billy’s sister's friend kept coming to the surface, remembering every time Charlene had been around him before he actually noticed her. It was weird to think she might have liked him even back then, before he had liked her. Once again it was hard to believe and he found himself distrusting as he gnawed on his thumb.

“Every time I went there after, I always hoped you’d be there. If you were I’d watch you, admire you from afar. Then I started work and you just seemed to be there all of the time. I’d try and talk to you but you were never interested. I mean how else do you think I was the one who always served you in the diner? I would literally beg Jenna to let me bus your table if she was the one working that area. I fucking like you Daryl. I don't give a shit what your head is telling you. I’ve liked you for years,” she said firmly. He glanced up at her warily but she could see on his face he was conflicted. He eyed her, she didn't look like she was lying and that left him confused. His brain was adamant she wouldn't like him and here she was confessing liking him for years. It didn't match up to his thoughts and he couldn't make sense of anything.

Charlene looked at him, she didn't know how this was going. He looked conflicted but she didn't really have anything else to say. She slumped her shoulders a little and sighed.

“You know what Daryl, I don't know what you fucking want from me. I’ve told you the truth and if you can't believe that, then there's nothing I can do,” she frowned. She went to walk away back to camp but his hand darted out, catching her wrist firmly. She glanced at him and he wasn't able to look at her. His chest was heaving a little, his brain still trying to soak in everything she had said. She wasn't a liar and he knew that, but things didn't make sense.

“I just...I don't get how. Or why. It don't make no fuckin’ sense to me that someone like you would like me that way,” he hated how soft his voice sounded. So fucking unsure of himself. Talking about this kind of shit, talking about his feelings, it wasn't something he enjoyed doing but he was terrified. He was scared if he let her walk away after all she had told him that she wouldn't want anything to do with him now.

He wasn’t stupid, he knew he had issues. And he wanted so desperately to believe what she was saying. But he was scared. Because that stupid little voice in the back of his head was telling him it was all lies and it was killing him.

“I told you once before Daryl, you’re a good man. I’ve always seen it. There is no ‘me better than you’ bullshit. I told you that day exactly how I see you, you know what I think of you. I never thought you'd like me back because I thought you'd want some kind of strong woman, someone who could look after herself. Not a dumb little preachers daughter,” she huffed. Daryl felt like he was getting a taste of his own medicine when she uttered those words. Listening to her put herself down like that. He fucking hated it and he frowned. Her words were spinning around his head, all she had admitted to him. And now seeing her look unsure of herself, mirroring him, he found himself opening his mouth before he had the chance to think about it.

“I used to come to the store and diner just for you. I ain't need a damn thing but...I’d go in to see ya. See that pretty smile,” he admitted as his cheeks flushed. He wasn't able to look at her, admitting such things out loud. He felt like such a fucking girl, but part of him felt good to finally get it off his chest. She was quiet and when he chanced a glance at her, she was biting her lip and smiling as her cheeks tinged pink. He snorted, looking down feeling like a dick. But his chest felt weird at making her smile and blush like that. Nothing added up in his head. Her words, how she acted, she did seem like she liked him that way. When he thought back to how she always slept next to him, how she was fine with being in her underwear and having him touch her hair. All the little things since they had been stuck together. It all made sense. He tried to ignore the little voice in his head, the one that would always fill him with self-doubt and hatred. He wanted to believe her, and he knew deep down she wasn’t lying. So what if he couldn't fucking fathom it? Maybe he should count his fucking blessings that she liked him back instead of questioning it.

He looked back up at her, confusing himself further. She was so beautiful it almost hurt his eyes and he wasn't sure what fucking planet he was on right now, but he knew he should roll with it. Who knew when she would change her damn mind.

“You remember what I said that time? How before you freak out you should just talk to me?” she smirked, making him scoff and look down, his cheeks turning pink.

“I know. Keep fuckin’ up,” he sighed, shaking his head. He was still gripping her wrist and he could feel her pulse under his fingertips. He inhaled a deep breath as he stood up, looking down at her as she blinked at him.

“M’sorry. I know I say it all the fuckin’ time and I’ll probably have to continue to say it. Ain't used to this shit. Keep messin’ up,” he frowned. Charlene raked her teeth over her plump lower lip, his eyes catching the movement.

He was caught off guard when she took a step closer, in his personal space. His throat felt like it closed up as his heart hammered against his ribcage. Why did every little thing she did make him feel like a fucking girl?

“I’m trying to be patient. I know you have your issues and I’ll keep being patient. But you need to meet me halfway here Daryl. If you're serious about this, it's not gonna work if you keep doing this. Just talk to me next time and we can figure it out together,” she said softly, giving him a tentative smile. He swallowed thickly as he nodded. He knew it wouldn't work if he kept at it, he would push her away eventually and hate himself for it. He had wanted this for so long, and now it was here, his fantasy coming to life and he knew he needed to try and sort his shit out. She said he could talk to her when things got messy in his head like they always did and it was embarrassing. But he knew he would have to swallow his pride when it came to it or he’d have to live with the fact he had ruined it all. That he had the girl of his dreams and fucked it all up.

“I’mma try. Might slip up from time to time but… I want this,” he admitted, the tips of his ears burning. If I could stop blushin’ like a damn chick, that would be fuckin’ great…

She grinned up at him and he felt a smile work its way onto his face. It felt better now they talked it out. Maybe he would get used to this sharing feelings bullshit. He felt lighter and now he could ignore the damn voice in his head and focus on the words she had told him, the sincerity on her face. She was so close to him and he felt like his legs might just give out on him. His breathing picked up as she leant in, kissing him somewhat hesitantly. They'd both need to get used to this, but if kissing was part of that, then shit, he was down for it. His hand came up to rest on the side of her neck, her pulse point under his fingertips. He deepened the kiss, feeling a little more brave about the whole thing since she apparently liked him for as long as she did. He felt her pulse pick up as he kissed her more firmly. She fisted his shirt, pulling him a little closer and he groaned, tangling his tongue with hers. He didn't think kissing anyone had ever been this good before, had him this worked up. He couldn't help it though, he felt like a schoolboy all over again. When she pulled away, she gave him a smile as her cheeks flushed. He couldn't help the satisfaction he felt every time she gave him that look, that he had been the one to put it on her pretty face.

“Not gonna bolt on me this time are you?” she smirked wryly, making him glare playfully at her.

“Little smart ass again huh?” he asked, making her snort at him. He was glad she was trying to make light of it though, everything felt better when it was a little less heavy. He was beyond grateful with the amount of chances she continued to give him. For her continued patience with him and his stupid damn head. He wasn't sure when it would all run out but he would try his fucking hardest to keep himself in check from now on. He didn't think he would ever wrap his head around the fact she liked him at all. That she found him attractive, thought he was a good man. But he did believe her. So he would just ignore the confusion and soak her in for as long as she would let him.

“So… are we going steady now or what?” she grinned mischievously. He rolled his eyes as he huffed a laugh.

“Don’t make me fuckin’ gag that pretty little mouth,” he smirked as he shook his head. He didn’t know what the fuck they were. He wanted her to be his girl but he wasn't really in the right place to ask her such a thing, not yet.

“Mhm, I think you might like it too much,” she teased as she took a step back, looking all cheeky and shit. His cheeks flushed a little as he fake glared at her and it only made her laugh lightly.

“That's it, I’m gonna go ask Merle for the duct tape,” he snorted. She bit her lower lip and grinned widely at him, making his insides turn to mush again. I’m the luckiest bastard on the whole damn planet.

Taglist; @risingphoenix761 @daryldixonandfrogs @arlaina28 @divadinag @keeperofwonderlandus @jodiereedus22 @easnuppa @fand0m-fiend @txladyj-blog @walkingdead-dixon

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #twd #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #The Walking Dead #the walking dead fanfic #Merle Dixon

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