#weird freak thing i keep in a desk drawer and pull out to squeeze really hard

[woahjo]

best friend tendou is so odd. he's so odd. and he's so obsessed with you and he won't say anything. he's really been there for you through everything. pregnancy scares, black outs, breakups, birthdays, all of it, ever since the beginning of college. it's wrong to want you like this, but he does and he's so fucking obsessed with you he could die. he can't help it. and he sort of gets off on how wrong it feels... well, that and to the thought of you fantasizing about him, hand covering your slick center.

thinks all the time about what it would be like if you came onto him. if you crawled on all fours across the bedspread until your face was just in front of his and whispered that you know he thinks about you when he touches himself. tendou thinks constantly about what your eyes look like when you want to fuck someone, when you want to make them feel like a pervert for thinking exactly what you want them to. he can't stop.

he's seen you play with men like toys, teasing and taunting, and all he can thing about is being the next toy you play with. watching you with narrowed eyes and a slick smile while you go on and on and on about the most recent guy you're fucking. meanwhile, he's thinking about what it would be like if you leaned over and asked him if he wanted to be next.

[moonah-rose]

Eavesdrop

A quick alternate to Earshot, but set in canon S2 rather than NPL, where the demons focus on Michael for their taunting.

*

Second book in on the top shelf. That’s the one to pull to unlock the secret door hidden in the wall behind Michael’s desk. She’s supposedly the only other being, besides Janet, in this micro-universe privy to that bit of info. It leads to a hallway that extends to a secret chamber filled with a bunch of Earth collectables along with, recently added on her suggestion, a mini-arcade with classic game machines and a karaoke stand. The walls were sound proof, obviously.

She’s not here to escape a lecture from Chidi about messing up the laundry by hanging out in her demon pal’s very own ‘bud hole’ this time. Her ear is pressed to the closed panel after sealing herself in, waiting for the big Satanic tree to arrive.

To her surprise, and slight annoyance, he hadn’t arrived alone.

“You shouldn’t be getting drunk like this. What if the humans saw you? Everyone here is supposed to be abstinent of all vices!” Michael had grumbled, a ruckus of giggles behind him.

“That’s the point, dummy! It’s a ‘Purge’ night!” Vicky cackled; “Tell ‘im again, Gunner!”

“I got the idea off this human movie - one night, we’re allowed to do any shirt we wanted without consequence! We can drink, smoke, do drugs, stab and bite to our black hearts content!”

“NO! Definitely no stabbing! Or hurting any of them...Physically!” He’d struggled to make that last detail sound natural.

Good save, bud, Eleanor had thought.

Another demon, Petra, Eleanor thinks, had groaned; “Ugh, you are such a buzzkill lately. Can’t you see how awesome this idea is? Think about how wasted Eleanor is gonna let herself get! That dork, Jason, is gonna be high as a kite and it will make Chidi and Tahani wanna cower inside their homes! It’s genius!” 

Eleanor had almost let herself be excited for the idea of trying to make the most of this supposed ‘torture’, similar to the one at Tahani’s party, which even Michael had said she hadn’t done too bad at acting and preparing the chaos sequence the next morning. She could hear the worry in Michael’s response though, being surrounded by three hundred demons, losing their inhibitions and wanting to let off steam in the most ‘passionate’ way possible, had the potential to go very wrong. For all of them.

As she listened, Michael’s attempts to reign in his rogue employees soon descended into outright pleading, which only gave him more scorn in return.

“Look just...remember what our goal is here. I get that you’re all frustrated but we’re doing so well and all I ask is that you don’t go too far on the humans, please.” He’d tried to ask, nicely. Wrong move.

The laughter nearly shook the building.

“Jeez! If you love these humans so much, why don’t you fork them?” Bambadjan teased.

“Nah, let’s face it, not even those cockroaches would wanna go near that disgusting skin suit with all it’s musty folds.” Vicky responded; “...Oh, what’s wrong, Mikey? It’s not like we’re insulting ‘you’ after all...Unless you’re starting to feel a little too cosy in that costume of yours.”

Eleanor’s stomach twisted on his behalf. She knew how much he loved that suit; he was so forking vain, after all. But then again, is it vanity if it’s not really his body? He just wishes it was.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Michael responded, quietly.

“Then prove it, dude! Take it off! Strip! Todd goes streaking every night.” Gunner encouraged.

“You know I can’t! It’s not the same for me.”

“Maybe I’ll take mine off tonight. Imagine how much Mendoza will freak out when he sees a giant acid snake coming for him after too many mushrooms!” Vicky joked; “It’s still ten times better than any torture method you’ve come up with for them, Mike. Maybe melting their brains by revealing your demon form will provide us some results.”

Is it really that bad? Eleanor was naively hoping there was some sexy bald goat-man underneath that suit. Dude was so shifty about it, like he didn’t wanna spoil the mystery. Was it more than that? Was he ashamed?

“You’ve all made your point, have your Purge and I’ll clean up the mess tomorrow. Just go easy on the humans - I insist.” Michael sounded so tired.

“Oh he ‘insists’!? Did you hear that guys? Mikey, who failed his own experiment over eight hundred times, wants to ‘insist’!” Vicky sneers.

“Well I insist that he shuts his fugly food hole and leave the masters to our job!” Petra cackled; “And he gets back to trying to fork his paperclips or whatever shirt you get up to here.”

That sounded painful, Eleanor couldn’t stop herself picturing it.

“Jeez, Mike, you always were a loser but there’s really no hope for you, is there. Before you were just the quiet nerd no one wanted to hang out with because of your weird fixation with Earth-people. Soon you’re gonna be known as the idiot who failed his first experiment; even if the rest of us do manage to salvage it for Shawn, we’ll all know the truth about how badly you suuucked!”

It took all of Eleanor’s strength not to shove the panel open, stomp over and grab Vicky’s hair to slam her face into the desk. They all just followed him in there to bully him?! They were the losers.

“C’mon, guys! We should have known he wouldn’t have wanted to join our party, it’s not like he’s used to being invited to any.” Bambadjan added, inciting more giggles.

“See you in the morning, dumb-ash. Be up bright and early to clean up our shirt, as you say, chop chop!”

Counting to ten to contain her rage luckily meets up with the sound of the door closing, the demons exiting the building.

She carefully opens the secret door, seeing Michael sat in his chair, hands folded on his lap, eyes cast down. When he hears her soft footsteps, his head turns, expression shifting to try to cover the wobbling lip she’d briefly caught sight of. He sniffs and rubs his upper lip with his hand.

“Eleanor!” Michael straightens up; “Were you there the whole time? What if they’d seen you or...sensed you were there?”

“Relax, man, they didn’t see shirt, it’s cool.” She puts her hand up; “...You okay?”

He looks to the side, forcing his ‘superior’ smirk, “Uhh, yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t I be? Just...having a bit of workplace banter, as they say.”

“Didn’t sound like ‘banter’ to me, dude.” She edges closer, slowly, knowing that if he’s as much like her as she knows, he’s gonna be like a wounded tiger right now.

Getting too close, too quick, is gonna get her eyes clawed out. She would know, she’s swung a few claws herself.

Michael sniffs, struggling to keep his mask on; “M’fine, Eleanor, really. You better go prepare for this Purge or whatever they were talking about, go enjoy yourself or...make sure the others are safe-.”

His words are cut off by her weight falling down onto his lap, arms looping around his neck as she embraces him. Fork it. Screw being slow and steady; the demon was about ready to cry.

“Wha....What are you doing?” Michael stutters, stiffening.

“Hugging you, idiot...Sorry, I mean that affectionately,” She says against his ear.

“W-why?”

She shrugs, still hugging him tight, shuffling on his knees; “’Cause you need it. ‘Cause it’s the quickest way to let you know that all those things those demons said was garbage. Fork, have they always talked to you like that?”

His silence answers her question.

She squeezes him again; “Damn, no wonder you’re as new to this whole friend thing as me.”

“Demons insult each other all the time, Eleanor, it’s how we compliment each other. We’re meant to enjoy it.”

That made zero sense. 

“But you don’t....do you?”

Michael breaths in deep against her. Then she shakes her head, leaning into her shoulder.

“That’s ‘cause I’m a freak...I’m wrong, just like they say...like Shawn says...I’m just a failure of a demon.”

“That’s a good thing in my books, man.” Eleanor pulls back, looking at him, admiringly; “You might be failing as a demon but, I have it on good authority, you are rocking it as a newbie human. And I know you think we’re all gross and stupid but...I know you love us.”

He wrinkles his nose, trying to look as though he denied it, yet refusing to. His eyes gaze into hers, a rush of color brightening his cheeks.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to say it, I know you’re not quite ready there yet.” She knows herself how difficult it is to say those three words, to anyone; “But we’re your friends. We want you on our team, Michael, not just ‘cause it stops you torturing us but...Because you’re a cool guy to be around, when you’re not giving paperclip showers or putting us in purple space bubbles.”

A smile threatened to crack on Michael’s face as he squirmed beneath her. Was it really this easy to make an all-powerful being look so shy and bashful? It was adorable.

She moves her hand up to his cheek, thumb stroking below his eye, reddened with unshed tears.

“Also...I feel kinda obliged to confess something.” She says, “This skin-suit? Your skin-suit? What Vicky said was bull-shirt. All of it. Not only is this suit as much you as whatever demony essence you got going on underneath...But it’s also not bad looking either. I might even go as far to say ‘handsome’. In like a Richard Gere in Pretty Woman way.”

“R-really?” He looks hopeful for a second; “I mean...I know it’s gorgeous, but I wouldn’t expect...I mean I wouldn’t want you - or any human - to ever wanna-.”

She cuts his babbling off again with a kiss on the cheek.

He’s frozen now.

Eleanor grins; “That prove it for you? You know me, I don’t give out pity kisses.”

Michael squirmed again, biting his lip, mumbling something which might have been ‘gross’ or ‘weird food holes’, but he doesn’t move his hands away from where they’ve found the small of her back.

“Hey...how about we do one quick bit of karaoke before we go brief the others on tonight. You can pick the song.” She says, giving his bow-tie the smallest tug.

He smiles, touched, then nods; “Sounds good...”

“Cool. Also, don’t open that drawer on your desk until you’ve properly cheered up - I rigged it with a pie to get thrown in your face as revenge for cheating off my paper earlier!”

“Oh, pies are the best prank! I wish you hadn’t told me now, you’ve spoiled the surprise.”

Eleanor giggles as she takes his hand, leading him to his bud-hole; “You know me, demon buddy. I’m always full of surprises.”

His fingers squeezed hers; “That you are.”

[malcolmwhitly-bright]

Malcolmnapped

@shut-up-im-jay... I love you too ;) 

“What,” JT mumbles upon seeing Malcolm has arrived for the day,” no therapy suckers?” JT frowns into his coffee, obscuring his face from Malcolm’s view. Something he does frequently, Malcolm’s come to understand it’s protective. JT doesn’t mean to alienate Malcolm so much as keep him at bay. Remove certain things from Malcolm’s ‘mind-reading’ eyes. “It’s Thursday, isn’t?” There is a hint of worry. The implication that if Malcolm doesn’t have suckers then he hasn’t gone to therapy. Fear… strange enough, JT has a small amount of fear for Malcolm. He hopes there’s another explanation. 

Malcolm nods him an affirmation, pressing a sucker into JT’s hand. Even offering a small explanation,” I accidentally grabbed two cherries.” As a means of clearing up why JT has a red-covered sucker instead of his usual. Not that flavors matter while JT’s brain is trying to cover and distort his concern. Luckily, Malcolm doesn’t think much of the weird glances from JT anymore.

He’s in content and safe with them. Until he’s not.

“You good?”

Malcolm schools his features, smiling as his left-hand cramps painfully around the strangely conducted letter he has just found on his desk. ‘To my greatest love’ it was dedicated. The words strangely loving but his name was attached at the bottom, ‘I love you, my dearest Malcolm’. “Me?” He shoves the paper into one of the already too full drawers of his desk. He motions a waving motion,” always.”

Dani glances at JT but her old partner is already tucking himself behind his desk, unconcerned now that his suspicions have been disproven. The kids going to therapy, that’s good enough for him. Dani sees through Malcolm’s ploy, his voice too assured. “Right,” she clears her throat. “Gil wants us all in the conference room. Edrisa’s got something.”

They always come on Thursdays. It’s a pattern, one he can only suspect and roll over in his mind by himself. He doesn’t dare air it to the others. He can only imagine the soft, playful smile JT will give him. He’ll brush it off, tell him to turn that profiling brain off for a minute. Give it a rest. Dani will give him sad eyes but she’ll probably reassure him it’s probably nothing. 

And it probably is nothing so he brushes it off.

There are six half-ruined letters in his desk drawer when he starts to feel watched.

“What’re you looking for?” 

Malcolm flinches, so caught in his self made fear that he lost contact with his surroundings. “Uh,” he scratches his cheek, hair growing where he hasn’t shaved in several days. “Just thought I heard something,” he shrugs, a small smile forcing its way on to his cheeks. He glances behind himself again, forcing his eyes forward after to stop further worrying Dani or JT who have both noticed now his odd behavior. 

But he’s Malcolm and they’re always secretly worried.

“He’s late.”

Dani looks up from her work, looking at her dimmed computer screen. She can hear the clear distress in JT’s voice and she finds he’s right. “It’s only two,” Dani tries to reason,” he can still come in.” Except, they’ve got an active case and it’s Thursday which means Malcolm should have been in hours ago. She stands from her desk and JT is right behind her, both of them making their way to Gil.

“Hey-”

Gil is on the phone, mouth twisted into a frown. He hangs up,” that was Jessica.” He looks at the two of them and it becomes abundantly clear what they are barging into his office for. “No word from Bright?”

JT shakes his head,” radio silence since he left early yesterday.”

Gil runs a hand over his goatee, fingers trailing through the peppered hair. “That’s not good.”

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

He wakes up in the dark. 

He’s an adult so it would be safe to assume that is how he wakes up most nights. However, he learned years ago that having a nightlight may be childish but it’s also helpful. The complete lack of light is his first sign that something is not right.

The next is the way his mouth tastes, like drugs. He struggles to clear his throat, his throat raw.

A light overhead it suddenly clicked on, a woman descending stairs he wasn’t able to see in the dark.

“What did you give me?” Malcolm tries not to let his fear overpower his ability to think clearly. Fear, he’s starting to realize, isn’t his only danger. His arm throbs where she stuck the syringe in and his profiler brain concludes she isn’t a nurse but his civilian brain is freaking out. 

She smiles sweetly,” just something to calm you down.” She points to his hands, both trembling with the full effects of his nerves,” there’s no need for you to be so nervous, sweetheart. I love you. You’re safe.”

Malcolm squints in the low light, attempting to put a face to the woman. She looks vaguely familiar like someone he’s seen in the mall or at a shop. Obviously, he did something to attract her attention but he can’t think of a single thing he’s done to ‘wow’ anyone lately. Last week, he tripped and spilled tea on some poor barista. Two days ago he ran into a display at some store Ainsely pulled him through. 

“How,” Malcolm pauses to think about how he wants to word his question. “How did we meet?”

She smiles softly and Malcolm thanks his lucky stars that at least she’s not hostile. “The coffee shop, silly.” 

He didn’t spill the tea on her, that girl was brunette and short. So…

“I was behind you in line,” she is clearly waiting for him to connect the dots. Mercifully, she grins and retells the romantic adventure that brought them together. “I dropped my credit card and, you being such a gentleman, you picked it up for me.” She places a hand over her heart,” I just knew. You smiled at me and I knew you needed me to save you.” She motions around them,” so I did!”

“Right,” Malcolm agrees. “Can-Can you unlock me then?” Her immediate reaction sends a spike of fear down his chest. “I-I have sensitive skin,” he motions his head to the straps tightened just a little too tight. “It hurts.” 

She thinks for a moment but shakes her head. “I can’t trust you yet.” She winks playfully,” but don’t worry, my love. Our devotion to one another is strong, you’ll be out of those straps in no time.”

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

“Jesus.”

Dani keeps pulling out the letters. She’s not looking at the words, her eyes scanning through his desk drawers for all the letters addressed to ‘My Love’. By the time they have emptied his drawer, there’s a sizable pile on the top of the desk. Each one declaring this person’s undying love for Malcolm. 

They read through them, more or less able to put them in order. The first few are shy but the last ones are serious. The writer talks about ‘the curly-haired bitch’ Malcolm needs to be careful of. Warning him that ‘the bitch’ will break his heart and ruin his life. The writer escalates, threatening Gil, they call him ‘the goateed man’, and JT the ‘big idiot’. The writer offers to take care of Malcolm and through implication get rid of the others. 

“Leave it Bright to get a creepy potential killer stalker,” JT mumbles, flipping through the letters. 

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

He tries not to flinch each time she touches his arm. If he wants to get out of the restraints he needs to make her believe he trusts her. It’s hard. She touches him for generally no reason. She throws her head back when she laughs at a joke she’s told, hand running down his bicep. He can handle most of it but occasionally her hand brushes his jaw.

“What’s wrong?”

He’s trying hard to swallow his panic but after all this time he knows what his symptoms mean. Rather than pushing down his flinch, he pulls away from the hand she places on his knee. He wraps his body around himself as well as he can, counting in his head. 

“Malcolm?”

She’s genuinely worried, which is thoughtful but she’s to blame for his current anxiety attack. 

Tears squeeze out of the corner of his eyes, his chest impossibly tight.

“It’s okay.” There’s a sharp sting on his bicep and cool pain spreads in his veins. Drugs. “I know how to fix this.”

He blinks heavily, too familiar with the effects of sedatives for the ones she’s just used to work their full effect immediately. “You don’t love me,” he whispers. Her hand still drags down his jaw, gently lifting it so his eyes are forced to meet hers. “You don’t even know me.”

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

“It’s a phone number.”

Everyone glances up, Edrisa’s soft voice catching them off guard. She points to the digits they ruled out. They knew they weren’t for an address but they didn’t look like a phone number. There was no area code. There weren’t enough digits.

“It can’t be.”

Edrisa shakes her head and points to another letter, a single line. “No, it probably is. See?” She reads out a line vaguely referring to how the writer and Malcolm met. “They met in a shop, probably the one Malcolm goes to when he gets us coffee.” She pushes the paper across the table to Gil when he crooks a curious eyebrow. “So, she’s probably from the area, like Malcolm and us.”

JT shakes his head in disbelief,” you’re really on your A-game, aren’t you?”

Edrisa blushes,” I mean, I didn’t solve it. You still have to find him.”

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

Malcolm’s stomach cramps painfully. He isn’t hungry in the least but Becca, as he learned her name was, managed to force-feed him several spoon fulls of soup. Helpfully adding she knows about his sensitive stomach. He couldn’t spare the nerve to tell her that the Campbell’s tomato soup she gave him would upset his stomach more than anything else she could have selected.

She left him after he struggled with a fourth bite, frustrated. Leaving him to vomit in the dark, acidic soup burning his throat as it makes its way back up.

“Kid!”

Malcolm’s heart speeds up, his eyes frantically looking in the dark around him for the owner of the voice. Despite only knowing the detective a few short months, hearing the other man’s voice brings a rush of relief. “JT?” He pulls against the restraints, the sound of the metal loud enough to cue JT in the right direction.

“Bright!” JT stumbles into the room and he can hear the presence of another person but he can’t see past his own hand. “Bright, man, if you’re in here you better tell me because Gil or Dani will kill me if I accidentally shoot your dumbass.” There’s a rustle in the corner and JT fumbles with his left hand for the flashlight in his pocket, fingers scaling over it. He can’t find it.

“JT?” A soft voice calls and JT knows it’s Malcolm. “I-I’m not sure if you’re actually here or if-”

A soft click sounds through the room and JT directs his flashlight at Malcolm, both of them letting out similar sighs of relief. “Kid,” JT clears the room quickly, aiming the flashlight at the corners of the room before making his way to Malcolm. “It’s good to see you.”

Malcolm sags bone-tired into JT, letting the other man shoulder his weight. “I thought…” his voice trails off. He didn’t think they would be able to find him. He clears his throat, attempting to push away his blind fears. “W-Will you tell me what the J stands for now?”

JT chuckles softly but shakes his head. He pulls away, glancing over Malcolm and eyes momentarily shifting the small puddle of watery vomit. “No.” He pulls Malcolm’s hands from where they are secured to the wall behind him, unclipping the simple clasps. They look exactly like the ones Malcolm uses for bed. “After this shit?” JT shakes his head but pulls Malcolm back against him. “Man, you’re in so much trouble.”

Malcolm laughs softly, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Will you take me home,” he asks, face pushed into JT’s shoulder.

JT grits his teeth, pushing down his own tears. “Yeah, man,” he clears his throat,” of course.” Helping Malcolm to his feet, shouldering most of the kid’s weight as his legs tremble beneath him. “One thing though?” Malcolm leans heavily into him and looks questioningly up at him. “No more coffee shop girls, yeah?”

Malcolm shakes his head,” I promise.”

JT reaches up and gives Malcolm’s hair a teasing rustle,” good.”

[leigh-kelly]

165. “Do you like it when I touch you like that?” A continuation of this.

After Santana gets back from her grandmother’s funeral, so grateful to have Brittany by her side when she almost had more than one nervous breakdown in the church, Rachel tells her that she’s going away for the weekend. Santana has a lot of work to do, especially with catching up from the classes she missed while she was back home, but she thinks maybe she’s finally ready to...be intimate with Brittany. They’ve been together for months now, Brittany went back to Ohio for a funeral with her, and Santana is falling for her really hard. She’s more nervous than she’s ever been in her life, but she’s not so nervous that she doesn’t want to do it.

Santana cleans her room, and she puts new sheets on the bed. They’re just plaid flannel, like all her sheets, but they’re fresh, and Santana feels better about that. She thinks about getting sparkling cider, but that feels really, really lame, so she settles on pulling out a sushi menu from her drawer and leaving it on her desk. She hasn’t even asked Brittany to stay over yet, or told her that Rachel is going to be gone, but by ten o’clock on Friday morning, she’s showered with the good smelling body wash she picked up from Lush, and she’s shaved her legs in preparation for something to happen. 

While she waits for Brittany to wake up and come knock on her door, Santana works on her Hemingway paper. The monotony of it actually serves to distract her from the roiling nerves that have concentrated in her stomach, and she’s grateful for that. She’s excited to finally have sex with Brittany—considering she’s thought about it a lot—but she’s also so concerned that she’s not going to be good. That Brittany is going to be turned off by her inexperience. That they’re going to be sexually incompatible, because Brittany is probably really good at...stuff...while Santana just isn’t. But she swallows it down, and when there’s a knock on the door, Santana plasters a smile on her face and goes to answer it.

“Hey.” Brittany walks through the door, as always, still in her pajamas. “Have you already cleaned your whole room today? It smells like bleach in here.”

“Yeah...you know, I was up. I also wrote half of my Hemingway paper.”

“Jeeze, I’m lucky I brushed my teeth. Only reason I did is so I could do this.” Brittany leans in and kisses Santana, with Santana not hesitating to deepen it, and allow Brittany’s tongue into her mouth. “Mmm perfect.”

“So, uh.” Santana shifts her weight between her feet, and looks down at her socks. “Rachel went away for the weekend.”

“Sweet! We can watch Oliver and Company without her singing over all the characters!”

“Um...I was actually thinking, do you maybe wanna stay over with me?”

“Wait what? I never stay here.”

“I know.” Santana flushes. “I don’t want to be weird right now, but, I want to be with you tonight. Like...you know.”

“Wait, really?” Brittany’s eyes widen, and Santana nods slowly. 

“Yeah, really. I feel super weird about the fact that I’m planning it like this. I just...do better with a plan.”

“I’m glad you did. That gives me time to make it special for you.”

“I thought we were both in agreement that virginity is a social construct.” Santana sucks in a breath, and Brittany smiles.

“We are. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want our first time together to be special. I’m not going to do anything crazy, but my mom always insists on sending me candles every time she makes me a care package. Maybe we’ll just light them, and I’ll make us an awesome playlist?”

“I’m already starting to feel a little overwhelmed by this.” Santana confesses. “I don’t want you to have these high expectations for me.”

“No expectations, Santana. We don’t even have to do anything if you change your mind. Regardless, I’m making the most of a night you don’t have a roommate, even if we just eat ramen and watch a movie.”

“I...was actually going to irresponsibly use part of my financial aid refund check and order us sushi.”

“You know I’ll never say no to sushi. I was actually going to see if you wanted to go grab breakfast, I’m starving.”

“I had cereal a little while ago.” Santana tells Brittany, though part of the reason she doesn’t want to have breakfast today is that she needs a little space before she explodes. “And I want to get this paper done so it’s not hanging over my head tonight.”

“Okay, cool. I’ll text Artie and see what his deal is, sometimes he sits in the dining hall for like two hours holding court.”

“You’re not mad, are you?”

“No, not at all. I know you’ve got a lot of work to do, and I’m just glad I get to spend all night with you.”

After Brittany leaves, Santana obsesses about the night while she works on her paper. She wonders if she should go shave more, or if she’s fine. Half of her considers googling some porn, just to be more aware of things, but she figures she’s read enough fan fiction to have a basic understanding of how things are going to work. She’s completely freaked out, but she also knows she wants to do this. She likes Brittany a lot, and she just keeps telling herself that virginity is a social construct. It’s not going to be a big deal, it’s like...what did her high school health substitute once say? Like hugging, only wetter? 

When she decides she absolutely can’t work on her paper anymore, it’s four o’clock, and she decides to take another shower. She really wants to feel fresh, and not have Brittany be grossed out by her vagina or anything, so she soaks under the water for a good half hour. When she finally gets out, she then begins to obsess about what to wear. They’re just going to be hanging out in the bedroom, so getting dressed up seems totally ridiculous—and not at all possible, based on her wardrobe—but she doesn’t want to look like she didn’t try at all. 

Digging through her underwear drawer, she’s kind of annoyed at herself that she didn’t go out and buy some kind of sexy underwear. Finally, she settles for a pair with The Avengers on them, and she slips into loose sweatpants and a Roswell t-shirt. She’s fine. She looks fine. Her hair is relatively tamed. She smells good. Brittany knows exactly who she is, and nothing about this is going to be weird at all. 

I’m back from doing stuff with Artie. Brittany texts her. I know you’re busy, but I’m around whenever you’re done working.

You can come over. Santana texts back. I just finished with everything I’ve got to do.

Two minutes later, Brittany knocks on the door with a bag over her shoulder, and it immediately makes Santana laugh. She really did bring candles, and also, because she knows it serves to calm Santana down, the DVD of Carol that they’ve already watched together no less than six times. While Santana stands around awkwardly, Brittany gives her a kiss, and then sets about putting the candles on her desk and dresser and lighting them. They order their sushi and eat it on the floor, and then, when they’re finished, Santana looks at her.

“What do we do now?” Santana asks, feeling like a total basket case.

“I think we should put the movie on, and lay down. Are you good with that?”

“Yeah, uh huh. Really good with it.”

Brittany gets the DVD going, and Santana has an internal debate with herself about whether to get under the covers, or lay on top of them like they usually do. She doesn’t know how fast they’re going to progress from movie watching to sex, and the idea of doing it on top of her comforter kind of freaks her out, so she decides to just pull it all the way back, and lay down on the sheets. She can feel Brittany watching her, but she doesn’t say anything. She just turns off the lights, and climbs up into the bed next to her, making her usual cradle with her arm for Santana’s head.

By the time Carol and Therese begin their road trip together, Brittany has begun massaging Santana’s neck. Santana knows she’s tense, and the motions do wonders for calming her down. She wants this, she wants this so badly, she just has to get out of her own way in order to make it happen. 

“This okay?” Brittany checks in with her, and Santana nods.

“You can kiss me if you want to.”

“Well, I always want to do that.” She laughs, shifting so she’s laying on top of Santana, and can kiss up her neck and to her mouth. “Stop me if I go too far.”

“I want you to go too far tonight.”

“I want you to set the pace, Santana. I want you to be the one who undresses me, and who asks me to take your clothes off.”

“Okay. Let’s just...kiss for a little while first.”

While Brittany kisses Santana, Santana lets her hands roam Brittany’s clothed body. She was always afraid of touching too much, of giving mixed messages about what she wanted, but tonight, she wants Brittany to get that message. She wants to slide her hands up under Brittany’s shirt, and feel that no bra keeps her from squeezing her breasts. She wants to feel the warm heat that comes from between her legs, even with the barrier of flannel pants between them. She wants to feel everything about her, because she’s falling for her, and all she wants is to fall harder.

Somewhere in the background, the movie ends, and Brittany gropes around to plug her iPod into Santana’s speaker. The music plays softly in the background, and abruptly, Santana sits up. She looks deeply into Brittany’s eyes, and her fingers play at the hem of her t-shirt. In her mind, it’s like she’s warring with herself about whether to do that yet, but eventually, her hormones win, and she tugs Brittany’s shirt over her head, leaving her topless in the cool of the room.

“Wow.” Santana gasps, unsure of what else to say. “Seriously, wow.”

“You’re cute.” Brittany laughs. “And you look really sexy right now.”

“Me?”

“No, the other girl that’s sitting in front of me with swollen lips and messy hair.” She teases, as Santana plays with her own shirt.

“You can take this off.”

Once Brittany gets Santana’s shirt off, and unhooks her bra, Santana lays back down on top of Brittany. The sensation of their nipples touching sends a jolt straight through Santana, and she lets out a small moan. She has it in her head that nervous as she is, she wants to be the one to initiate this, and after a long while of kissing again, she tugs at the drawstrings on Brittany’s pants. She’s awkward in getting them down, but eventually she does, and breathes a sigh of relief that Brittany is not completely clean shaven either. 

Her hands are shaking as she strokes the insides of Brittany’s thigh, and she can’t seem to steady them. She’s so afraid that she’s going to be bad at this, that she thinks she might actually be making herself bad. Brittany gives her a gentle kiss, and Santana sucks in a breath, remembering how much she cares about her, remembering how much she wants to do this. It’s just sex. It doesn’t have to be a life or death situation, but she’s freaking out, and she just wants to calm down.

“We can still stop, Santana.” Brittany pants. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

“I want to.” Santana breathes, bringing her hand up higher. “I just don’t want to be bad at it.”

“Just touch me like you’d touch yourself.”

“I...don’t.” She confesses.

“Ever?” Brittany lifts her head up, and Santana feels her ears flame. 

“No.”

“So you’ve never...”

“No.” Santana shakes her head, feeling embarrassed even discussing it. 

“Lay back.” Brittany directs her. “Is it okay if I do this first?”

“Uh huh.” She nods, leaning back into the pillows.

Gently, Brittany slides down her sweatpants, and Santana sees the curve of her smile when she gets to her underwear. Santana covers her face with her arm, but Brittany removes it, kissing her forehead before tickling up her thighs and slipping her fingers through her wet sex. Hissing at the sensation, Santana doesn’t break eye contact with Brittany, and Brittany gives her a big grin. She varies her touch, and Santana squirms a little, unsure of what her body is doing.

“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” She whispers in Santana’s ear, and Santana can only nod.

She melts into the pillows, unable to comprehend each touch any longer, as it hurts a little. Instead, she focuses on the coil in the pit of her belly, getting closer and closer to snapping, and when it does, she’s taken by surprise with the force of it. Brittany continues her ministrations, even when Santana’s body is shaking, and Santana weaves her hands through her hair, pulling her in for a long and passionate kiss. Her chest swells with the strangest feeling, but she can only push Brittany onto her back, laying her sweat damp body over her, and trailing her hands down her bare stomach.

“I need to do that to you.”

[somuchanemoia]

I wish you would write a fanfic where... Victor finds out exactly how much a fanboy Yuuri is when Hiroko sends Yuuri's 37 posters, 42 prints, 4 folders of limited addition magazines, 3 scrapbooks, 5 Victor Nikiforov (TM) figurines, and old VHS tapes of Victor's performances that Yuuri taped. Yuuri is, obviously, embarrassed, but Victor consoles him. Also, in reply, Victor sends Hiroko a picture of the veritable shrine he has been building of Yuuri, complete with a personalized Yuuri dakimakura.

Aww! Anon! I have been wanting to write this so badly so without further ado…here is a short drabble on this. I will most likely make this into a fuller fic in the near future once Christmas is over since I’ve been busy busy busy.

Once again, sorry for the late response! : ( I kept getting pulled away from my desk while writing this so my sincerest apologies.  - Sam

It had all started when the UPS guy delivered a huge brown cardboard box late one evening to Yuuri and Viktor’s apartment. They had been enjoying a quiet evening in together, snuggling on the couch as the TV played in the background and picking at their boxes of Chinese takeout they had grabbed on the way home from the rink. Makkachin had been curled up at their feet, ready to protect them from anything that could harm her owners and also ready to accept any food that was “accidentally” dropped by Yuuri. Viktor may have been a stickler for dog food, but Yuuri knew that one piece of orange chicken wasn’t going to harm the poodle so he would occasionally indulge her with his “clumsiness”.

Not that Viktor was really all that intimidating as he scolded Yuuri for it in between kisses.

The knock at the door had stirred Makkachin from her sleepy panting and had roused Yuuri and Viktor from their lazy sleepy cuddles.

“I got it.” Viktor hummed as he pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s hair and stood from their tangle of limbs, Makkachin following him to the door to investigate and greet their new visitor, her tongue lolling from her mouth in happiness. Yuuri hummed softly and leaned back on the couch, taking another bite of a Rangoon that Viktor had wanted to try. They weren’t all that bad, but after being to China for competitions and from being from Japan, he missed traditional Asian cuisine and not the rip off type that was often served in other parts of the world.

He could hear his boyfriend taking in rapid Russian just down the hallway, catching a few words here and there, but not really understanding what was being said since he was still learning Russian from Viktor. From what he understood though, it didn’t sound like anything too serious so he continued to stay curled up on Viktor’s comfortable sofa and stare at the TV that had been flipped to some sort of news broadcast that had Japanese subtitles playing at the bottom for Yuuri.

“Mama sent us something.” Was the first thing Viktor said as he came into the room with a large brown box cradled in his arms, Makkachin following behind him happily before she was able to squeeze through the wall and Viktor’s legs and bolt for her new favorite cuddle buddy (at least that is what Viktor had accused her of).

“Oh? It must be that last box of my stuff from home that I asked her to send…” He hummed, “You can just set it down and I’ll unpack it tonight before–”

“It’s for me,” Viktor cooed as he plopped down next to Yuuri and set the box down in front of both of them. He pointed at the label and Yuuri had to nod in agreement, it was for Viktor. But what could his Mama have sent his fiance? What could she have sent and not mentioned to Yuuri at some point? Maybe Viktor had left something in Hatsetsu?

“Any idea what it is?” Yuuri asked as he pulled a pair of scissors from the drawer of the coffee table and handing them to Viktor.

“Your guess is as good as mine, honestly. Can’t be too bad since it’s from Mama.” Yuuri nodded. It probably was something they found in Hatsetsu that Viktor accidentally left behind or something that they saw that reminded them of him.

Viktor opened the box and Yuuri’s face immediately reddened in embarrassment and shame.

“I can’t believe she actually sent them…” Yuuri squeaked to himself as he covered his face with his hands. Viktor was laughing heartily in enjoyment as he was suddenly assaulted with pictures of his face. Pictures upon pictures of him with short and long hair, younger and older, on the ice and off greeted him with small smirks and endearing tight-lipped smiles. He began pulling out multiple pictures of himself that had been sent, looking through all of them and reminiscing about his time in juniors and his beginning years in seniors, much to Yuuri’s horror. Occassionally, he’d remark about the angle being wrong and not getting his good side, easily something Yuuri would dispute, but currently didn’t have the energy for.

“I can’t believe…”

“I wonder where she got all these pictures.” Viktor hummed almost teasingly as he pulled more items from the box, posters of Viktor in varying ages were everywhere, some of them signed and others obviously pulled out of magazines, though they had been loved in the same fashion as the higher end ones.

“This was a good picture of me. I loved being in Colorado.” Viktor hummed as he pointed at a poster of himself standing in the snowy mountain air, gold medal around his neck and National team jacket keeping him warm. His long hair had been frozen in time as it flowed through the breeze, making him look a hero returning from war in a bad action movie. Yuuri blushed even deeper when he remembered some of the things he had done while looking at that particular poster.

“Really great shot…” Yuuri said faintly as he curled up in a ball on the couch in utter shame. Viktor would definitely find him to be a weirdo now. Viktor had known that Yuuri was a fan, of course, but now that ‘Katsuki Yuuri: The Fanboy’ had been taken out of the closet…

“Ooh. Look at these Yuurtshka! Viktor squealed as he pulled out four huge file folders that had been stuffed full with magazines; all the magazines Yuuri had ever collected through his time as a hardcore Viktor Nikiforov stan.

“Oh no,” Yuuri mumbled to himself, “Naze mamadesu ka?“ (Why mama?)

“OH MY GOSH, YUURI! Look!” Viktor suddenly held up a very limited edition magazine that Yuuri had fought to the death for over eBay, “I never even got to read this one! I tried to get it when it came out but someone outbid me on eBay. I was so angry with “viktors-bluest-eyes” for the longest time as a teenager.”

Yuuri felt his eyes widen and his blush deepen. He had apparently been in a bidding war over the internet with Viktor at one point in time for this very magazine. He made a weak sounding squeak as Viktor hummed and continued to riffle through the box off Viktor Nikiforov memorabilia that his Mama had sent.

Time had revealed a collection of Viktor Nikiforov fan merch, a whole set of Victor Nikiforov ™ figurines (all of which Viktor had no idea existed and had proudly set them on the mantle place in their “place of honor”), multiple scrapbooks that he had determinedly flipped through happily, cooing to Yuuri about how well he did formatting pictures by stickers and colorful paper. VHS tape upon VHS tape surfaced as well and by the time Viktor had insisted on taking the tapes to be digitalized Yuuri finally cracked.

Tears flowed down Yuuri’s cheek as he curled up tighter into a ball on the couch.

“Yuurtshka?” Viktor’s voice was soft and tender, unlike the happy squeals he was letting out not even five minutes ago, “What’s wrong sweetheart?”

Yuuri hid his face in his hands as he shook, “This is so embarrassing. You think I’m a freak now, don’t you?”

“No! No, of course not moy sladkiy,” Viktor cooed as he pulled his ball of Yuuri close, “You’re so precious Yuuri.”

“I’m the biggest fanboy ever. I practically stalked your skating career…”

“And that’s so adorable, Yuuri.” Viktor purred as he rocked them back and forth, “You’re so passionate about something and that makes me happy. It makes me even happier that it’s me because I love you so much.”

Yuuri hiccuped, “Why?”

“Well, lots of reasons. You’re so sweet, Yuuri, and so honest. And you’re talented and the way you dance on the ice makes me so inspired. You’re an amazing cook and you have this adorable little laugh. Plus you love animals and–”

“Why do you not find this weird, Viktor?” Yuuri asked as he looked up at him with teary eyes, “You don’t find it weird that the president of your fan club is–”

“You’re “viktors-bluest-eyes”?” Viktor asked with far more enthusiasm than Yuuri expected.

He nodded and let Viktor continue you to squeeze him tight, “Aww! I love “viktors-bluest-eyes”! Even before I met you Yuuri, I followed your blog because you were so sweet and cool and you didn’t like spreading rumors about me. You just let me be who I am and supported me no matter what. And now I get to marry you and–”

“Y-You read my blog?” Yuuri asked softly and gave a watery chuckle at Viktor’s rapid nod. Viktor hummed and chuckled along.

“Well, if you feel like this is your dirty little secret, I might as well come clean too.” Viktor pulled them to their feet and led Yuuri to one of the spare bedrooms that Viktor had dubbed his office. In all his time here in St. Petersburg, Yuuri had never even seen the elder skater in the room. Viktor paused by the door and Yuuri saw his pale cheek light in a gentle blush before he pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s lips and then forehead.

“Welcome to the head quarters of Katsuki Yuuri’s ultimate fanboy.” Viktor hummed as he opened the door and let Yuuri peer in the room. The Japanese skater gasped as he walked in the room, Viktor’s arms wrapped around his waist.

The entire room was a shrine to Yuuri; the walls covered in posters of Yuuri from juniors and seniors. Framed photos of Yuuri sat along the bookshelves of magazines that had been dedicated to him. Figurines of Yuuri sat in glass cases for protection around the room and even an exact replica of one of his skating costumes from his time in Juniors sat in a life save glass case to be preserved.

“Oh my god.” He mumbled as he let his eyes drift around the room, his cheeks burning in shyness, “When…?”

“After I saw you dance that night at the banquet, I knew I was in love with you. I started researching you and, well, I feel down a dark hole.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re so precious Yuuri. You are the most precious bean and you deserve to be preserved.” Viktor hummed as he trailed kisses across Yuuri’s cheek and down his jaw, “moy dragotsennyy bob.”

“Viktor, why in the hell do you have these?” Yuuri asked Viktor who pressed two large personalized Yuuri dakimakura into his fiance’s hands. One was of Yuuri laying spread on his back in his eros costume, his hair slicked back and his brown eyes looking up at him with dripping lust. The other was more PG-rated with Yuuri laying on his side dressed in a pair of his training leggings and a loose t-shirt hanging off his shoulders. His glasses were askew and his hair was mused up from what looked to be sleep; by his head “I love you, my Vicchan” had been written in Cyrillic.

“I miss you when I have to leave you here to go to competitions so I need a Yuuri to cuddle,” Viktor asked as if it was the simplest thing in the world. Yuuri just nodded and held the pillow as Viktor took out his phone and eyed the scene in front of him, “A little to the left Yuuri. I want to make sure she can see the limited edition Yuri on Ice alarm clock.”

Yuuri just snorted but scooted over so Viktor could snap a few pictures of the room for Mama Katsuki. He managed to get a few because then he came to stand by his fiance to take a few selfies. They both smiled at the camera and then on the last shot, Yuuri pressed his lips to Viktor’s cheek lovingly.

It wasn’t that much longer when Hiroko received a whole onslaught of pictures from her future son-in-law of a whole shrine to her baby boy and one picture of the two of them kissing with the caption, “Thank you for allowing me to add to my collection…” at the bottom.

[still-with-hearts-beating]

matter of time (jane/kurt + mayfair fanfic + #bsABCchallenge)

project: @blindspothiatusproject ABC challenge

m: mayfair (version two)

 A/N: follow up to one of my faves (perhaps my favorite), lover, come back to me from the #bspromptchallenge. Set in an AU in which Mayfair is alive and well.

 matter of time

 Jane opened the door to the bathroom stall, jumping slightly as she saw Mayfair leaning against the counter, her arms folded across her chest.

 “Everything OK?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at Jane.

Jane cleared her throat and nodded as she walked towards the sink and washed her hands.

 “Fine,” she said, giving Mayfair a slight smile through the mirror. “Just my breakfast...it didn’t agree with me.”

 Mayfair nodded but didn’t say anything, watching as Jane took a moment to splash some water on her face and rinse her mouth out, handing her a paper towel as she turned off the tap.

 “Thanks,” Jane said quietly, drying her face and hands. Mayfair stood silently until Jane tossed the paper towel in the garbage and turned towards her. “I should get back—“

 “How far along are you?”

 Jane thought about lying or pretending to be confused. Or offended. But she knew the woman standing across from her and it was no use. Besides, she was too tired and nauseous to come up with a plausible excuse.

 “Two months,” she said, folding her hands over her still-flat stomach. “He doesn’t know, I found out after he left.”

 Mayfair sighed and offered Jane a slight smile, unfolding her arms and reaching out to rest her hand gently on Jane’s elbow.

 It had been two months since Kurt had left on his current undercover mission, one that required deep cover with no communication with them. And no timeline for his return.

 Jane had spent the first two weeks after he left cleaning and organizing their apartment. Twice. She spent another week going to yoga twice a day. The fourth week, she called Mayfair, bored out of her mind and begging for something to do.

 She and Kurt had agreed that she wouldn’t go out into the field while he was gone. They had resigned from the FBI, planning to move to California once he got back and they wouldn’t risk that by having them both in danger. But she quickly realized she was going to go crazy waiting for him at home, especially not knowing how long it would be.

 So, Mayfair had set her up in the linguistics department, working on classified translations. She was good at it, and it felt good to be useful, and she was glad to be in the office so she would know as soon as any word from Kurt came in.

 She had been back at work three days when she found out she was pregnant. She had seen her doctor shortly afterwards but other than her, she hadn’t told a soul. Until now.

 “How did you know?” she asked Mayfair and the older woman smiled as she shook her head and wrapped her arms around Jane’s shoulders, pulling her into a hug.

 “My sister has four kids, I’ve gotten good at spotting the signs,” she whispered and Jane let out a half laugh, half sob as she hugged Mayfair back.

 “I wish he was here,” she mumbled, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes and Mayfair nodded, rubbing  small circles on her back.

 “I know. He will be. He will be soon,” she said, keeping her arms around Jane for a few moments.

 Jane wiped at her eyes as she pulled back, giving Mayfair an appreciative smile as she collected herself.

 “I don’t want to say anything to anyone yet, it’s still early and...” Mayfair held up her hand, nodding understandingly.

 “Say no more, this stays between us. I was hesitant to ask but I did promise him I’d look out for you,” she said and Jane smiled, raising her eyebrows.

 “You did?” Mayfair returned her smile, nodding as she opened the bathroom door for the both of them.

 “Never seen anyone quite as smitten as that boy of yours,” she said teasingly and Jane laughed as she followed her out the door.

 ***

 “You sure it’s recording?”

 Jane looked over from her hospital bed at the iPad currently being held up beside her face, tilting her head back to see the face behind it.

 “Yes, I’m sure,” Mayfair said, turning it slightly to the side to get a better view of Jane and the monitor beside her. “We’re ready,” she said, looking over to the doctor who held the sonogram wand over Jane’s belly.

 “Alright...well, mom and dad,” she said, looking at Jane and then at the iPad, before turning back to the screen beside her. “Meet your baby,” she clicked a few keys on her keyboard, and after a moment, a low swishing sound filled the room. “And that’s your baby’s heartbeat.”

 Jane gasped, her eyes filling with tears as she stared at the blurry image on the screen and then looked down at her stomach, slightly fuller than normal. She looked up at the iPad for a moment and closed her eyes, listening to the heartbeat as she pictured Kurt’s face as he heard it for the first time.

 She opened her eyes and glanced up at Mayfair, the two of them sharing a teary smile before turning back towards the doctor.

 “Is everything OK?” she asked and the doctor examined the screen for a few moments, moving the wand over her stomach.

 “Everything looks good, strong heartbeat. It’s a little early to know the sex...”

 Jane shook her head, smiling at the screen.

 “That’s OK, I want to wait for my fiancé,” she explained and the doctor nodded, printing off a still image for her to take home.

 “We’ll book you for another appointment next month and hopefully dad will be home by then,” she said with a smile, handing Jane the photo. Jane stared down at the picture, wiping at her cheeks before she held the photo up in front of the iPad.

 “It’s our baby, Kurt,” she whispered into the camera and Mayfair smiled as she watched on the screen.  Jane glanced up over the iPad and caught her eye. “Thank you,” she said and Mayfair simply nodded as she ended the recording.

 “He’s going to love it,” she said, placing her hand over Jane’s and giving it a gentle squeeze. “He won’t miss a thing.”

 ***

 Jane opened the door, giving Mayfair an apologetic smile as she saw her on the other side, her coat and boots thrown on over her pajamas.

 “You were in bed,” Jane said with a sigh as she stepped aside for her to walk through the door. “I’m sorry.”

 Mayfair shook her head as she took off her coat, hanging it on the hook by the door before she turned to Jane.

 “Stop that. What’s going on? Are you in pain?”

 Jane sighed and shook her head, glancing down at her small belly and resting her hands on it.

 “Not pain, it’s just...something’s weird, something’s not right,” she said, biting her lip as she gently rubbed her stomach. She looked up and reached out for Mayfair’s hand, placing it against her stomach beside her own. “There! What is that?” she asked, her eyes wide with worry.

 Mayfair kept her hand against Jane’s belly for a moment before she looked up at her, her lips curving up into a smile.

 “Your baby’s kicking,” she said softly and Jane stared at her for a moment before looking back down at her belly.

 “Really?” she asked, her eyes filling with tears as she felt it again. “Oh my god, the baby’s kicking,” she whispered. After a few moments, she looked up and her eyes darted around the apartment. “Where’s the iPad, we have to record it for Kurt!”

 Mayfair laughed as she walked over to the counter and turned on the iPad, opening up the camera. She nodded to Jane that she was recording.

 “Kurt, our baby’s kicking,” Jane whispered, both her hands resting on her belly as she looked down and then back up at the camera. “It’s the most amazing feeling. Well, at first it totally freaked me out and I called Mayfair in a panic. Say hi, Mayfair,” she said with a laugh as Mayfair turned the camera around and gave a short wave before turning it to face Jane again.

 “But it really is so amazing,” she continued softly, gazing down at her stomach. “I can’t wait for you to feel it.”

 She was quiet for a few moments before she looked up at the camera, smiling before giving it a small wave.

 “We love you.”

 ***

 “Hey, look what I can do,” Jane said from her seat across from Mayfair’s desk.

 Mayfair looked up and laughed as she saw Jane balancing her burrito bowl on her belly, holding her hands up in the air on either side.

 “Baby’s got good balance,” she said with a chuckle, before picking up the bowl and scooping up a big bite. “Are you eating your guacamole?” she asked and Mayfair shook her head, sliding the little container across the desk.

 Jane was seven months pregnant now.

 She never imagined Kurt would be undercover this long and had it not been for the glimpse they had caught of him on a security camera six weeks earlier, and the partial phone conversation they had picked up ten days ago, she was sure she would be convinced he was dead.

 But the fact that he, and the target the FBI was after, were popping up on surveillance was a sign that whatever they were planning was coming soon. Which meant the signal from Kurt to move in and put this all to an end would come soon, too.

 “What time is your doctor’s appointment tomorrow?” Mayfair asked as she clicked through her calendar on her phone.

 In Kurt’s absence, Mayfair had stepped in in every way possible. She accompanied Jane to all her doctor’s appointments and prenatal classes, recording every single one for Kurt.

 She cooked dinner for Jane a few nights a week, even attempting a few times to teach her a few dishes. They recorded one disastrous cooking video for Kurt – their doomed attempt at a lasagna that ended up on the kitchen floor – and another, more successful one of them making Jello, one of Jane’s frequent cravings.

 Jane did her best to document everything for Kurt. She had photos and videos and keepsakes all tucked away around their apartment, and a drawer full of baby clothes in their bedroom. She had also asked Mayfair to dig up some of Kurt’s old case files and every night, she and the baby fell asleep listening to tapes of Kurt’s dictations of his notes, the low rumble of his voice soothing them to sleep.

 The one thing she had been putting off was building a nursery. For a while, she held out hope that Kurt would return soon and they could follow through with their California plan and have a “beach baby” as Jane affectionately referred to it.

 But she realized their window for that was closing – their move out west would wait until after the baby was born. And as she got further along in her pregnancy, she realized how important Mayfair’s support was to her and, even when Kurt came home, she couldn’t imagine having the baby without Mayfair there. Their baby would be born in New York and they would likely live there for another few months afterwards.

 Even so, she couldn’t bring herself to build the nursery without Kurt. She held on to her faith that he would be home in time for them to do it together.

 “Jane? Your appointment tomorrow?”

 Jane looked up to find Mayfair looking at her expectantly and she shook her head, setting her bowl down on the desk.

 “Ten AM,” she said, setting her hands on the arms of the chair as she slowly stood up. “I should get back to work,” she said, collecting her bowl. She was just about to walk towards the door when it flew open, Patterson sticking her head in.

 “We got it. He’s ready,” she said to both of them and Jane dropped her bowl, the remnants of her lunch going flying everywhere. She stared at it for a moment before looking back up at Patterson, her eyes wide as her heard pounded a mile a minute.

 “Right now?” she asked, walking towards the door. Patterson nodded, glancing over at Mayfair as she walked around her desk.

 “Right now, we got the signal ninety seconds ago, the team is prepping to move out in three minutes,” she said as she started to make her way back to her lab, Mayfair and Jane following behind her.

 “Uh uh,” Mayfair said, turning back and putting her hand up to Jane. “You wait here.”

 “No way,” Jane said, shaking her head but Mayfair held her ground.

 “You wait here,” she repeated, nodding towards her office. “He’s come all this way and you’ve come all this way,” she said, looking down at Jane’s belly. “He’s coming home to you,” she said softly and Jane felt her eyes well up with tears as her hands came up to rest on her stomach. “You focus on taking care of yourself and your little one so you can welcome him home.”

 Jane took a shaky breath and nodded, watching as Patterson and Mayfair continued on the lab before returning to Mayfair’s office. She paced back and forth a few times before sitting down on the couch, closing her eyes as she gently rubbed her belly.

 “Daddy’s coming home,” she whispered. After a few moments, she took out her phone, cueing up one of the recordings of Kurt. She played it, letting it calm her as she focused on taking deep breaths, resting her head against the back of the couch and smiling as she felt the baby kick and move at the sound of Kurt’s voice.

 Nearly two hours later, Mayfair opened the door and stepped into the office and Jane’s head flew up to look at her.

 “It’s over, he’s fine,” she said, walking towards the couch and sitting beside her. Jane leaned forward, covering her face with her hands as her body shook with sobs. Mayfair reached over and rested her hand on Jane’s back, rubbing circles against it as she let her cry.

 “He’s OK?” she asked after a moment, looking up at Mayfair with her tear-stained face and Mayfair nodded, reaching out and wrapping her arms around Jane, pulling her into a hug. “I have to see him,” she said as they pulled apart, standing up with Mayfair’s help. “I have to see him now.”

 “They’re taking him to the hospital,” she said, holding up her hands as Jane looked at her with worry. “He suffered some smoke inhalation, nothing major,” she assured her and Jane nodded, breathing a sigh of relief.

 “Come on,” Mayfair said, extending her hand to Jane.

“Time for the baby to meet daddy.”

  ***

  Kurt held the oxygen mask away from his face, coughing as he tried to get the doctor’s attention.

  “I really just need a phone,” he said before holding the mask back up to his nose and mouth, taking a few breaths before holding it away again. “You don’t understand, I need to—“

  He stopped as the door to his room opened and Jane’s head poked in, both their eyes welling up with tears as they saw each other for the first time in seven months.

  “You’re here,” he whispered and she nodded, opening the door all the way as she stepped through. She stood still for a moment as she glanced down at her belly and then back up at him, watching his face as he took her in.

  He stared at her for a moment, watching as her hands came to rest on her belly and she took a few more steps towards him.

  “We’re both here,” she whispered, biting her lip as tears slipped down her cheeks.

  “Oh my god,” he whispered, reaching out for her belly, placing both his palms against it. She covered his hands with hers, choking back a sob as she felt the one thing she had wanted more than anything for the past seven months.

  Their baby was kicking and Kurt was there to feel it with her.

  He kept his hands on her belly as he looked up at her, his own tears falling onto his cheeks as the realization sunk in. She leaned down, pressing her lips to his in a long kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck as she pulled herself closer to him.

  He had a coughing fit as they pulled apart and she scrambled to hand him his oxygen mask. He held it against his face with one hand, his other hand staying against her belly as he stared at it. She smiled, reaching out and brushing her fingers against his cheek as she watched him take it all in.

  She had had seven months to get used to this. He had barely had seventy seconds.

  “I can’t believe it,” he said, coughing as he pulled the mask away again, setting it down on the bed beside him before placing his palm against her stomach again. “It’s just...it’s too...”

  “Too much?” she asked, glancing down at his hands and then up at him and he immediately shook his head, bringing one of his hands up to cup her cheek.

  “Too amazing, too incredible...too good,” he said, pulling her lips down towards his again. “It’s so, so good.”

  She grinned against his lips before he pulled away, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her belly.

  “How long?” he asked, looking up at her. She chuckled, resting her hand on the back of his neck.

  “Seven months,” she said, running her hands through his hair, now much longer than she’d ever seen it. “The night you left,” she added with a grin and he shook his head in disbelief.

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her belly again before sitting up. “I’m so sorry you were alone.”

  She shook her head, resting her hands on his shoulders.

  “I wasn’t alone,” she assured him. “You left me in very good hands,” she said and Kurt smiled, wrapping his arms around Jane’s waist and pulling her as close as her belly would allow, pressing his face into her shoulder.

  “Mayfair?” he mumbled and she nodded, pulling him closer.

  “She’s helped me so much,” Jane whispered. “You don’t have to worry about anything,” she added, feeling him nod against her shoulder.  “You’re here now,” she whispered in his ear, smiling as he pulled her closer.

  “God, I missed you,” he whispered and she felt her tears well up in her eyes again.

  She pulled back slightly, leaning her forehead against his as his hands rested on her stomach again.

  “You kept your promise,” she said, leaning in to kiss him softly. “You came home to me. To us,” she said, smiling down at her stomach. “I told our baby every day that you would.”

  He chuckled and shook his head, a few tears slipping out of the corner of his eyes.

  “Our baby,” he said in quiet disbelief before looking up at her. She smiled and brushed her hand against his cheek.

  “You’ll get used to it soon,” she said, smiling as she leaned in and brushed her lips against his forehead.

  He wrapped his arms around her again, pulling her against his chest, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

  “I’m not sure I want to get used to this,” he said softly. “I want to feel like this forever.”

[cooperjones2020]

Give me shelter, or show me heart

My contribution to our collective flailing over that deleted scene.

Or:

Jughead has a panic attack in Ikea.

(title from “Only Love” by Ben Howard)

ao3—>http://archiveofourown.org/works/11746176

Jughead’s hand is on Betty’s headrest as she drives, the modern day equivalent of having his arm around her shoulders on a bench seat. It’s not quite as good, but he can still twirl of piece of her hair in his fingers, so he’s pretty satisfied. He’d wanted to take FP’s truck, but Betty insisted her mom’s SUV would be better if they got any little decorative stuff. The furniture boxes would be fine in the truck bed, but linens and pillows and things? No way.

He isn’t quite sure what she meant by ‘little decorative stuff’ but he supposes he will need bedding at least. Though he doesn’t understand why that requires a trip to the blue and yellow monstrosity he can currently see from the interstate while they’re still three miles away from their exit.

When they finally reach it, and while Betty navigates the labyrinth of access roads, he says, “You know, I don’t think I ever realized you guys had a spare room.”

“We don’t, technically. But Mom and Dad are gonna clear out the office in the basement.”

“What? No, they don’t have to do that. I can just sleep on the couch or something.”

Betty gives him a look as she pulls into the parking lot. “Juggie. You’re getting a bedroom. They don’t need a home office. They already have an office. It’s at the Register. And if this means I get you 24/7 plus the added bonus of them maybe working from home a little bit less? We’re not questioning it. Now, come on. I have Mom’s credit card and we have shopping to do.”

And with that, the case is closed. He lets her tug him into the store. She’s using her determined walk and she has an iron grip on his hand that only relaxes when she pushes a cart toward him and whips out the mini pencil an employee had given her to begin writing down serial numbers and weird Swedish names. 

The sea of shoppers carries them forward on its current, and in each new section of the store the pile in their cart climbs higher. There’s sheets, pillows, something called a duvet cover. Even curtains and a throw rug. He draws the line at the decorative pillows though. Still, she sneaks in art for the walls and a matching set of lamps.

Then, he sees Betty flip over to the back side of her little slip of paper because she’s run out of space on the front. What the hell more does he need besides a bed? They could just drop an air mattress on the floor like Fred had and be done with it.

Look, Jughead likes to consider himself a pretty chill guy. And he’s got great focus; he can tune anything out. A skill he honed over longs years of trying to sleep with only flimsy trailer walls between him and his parents. He can sit in a busy diner for hours and only see and hear the words on the page in front of him. But this place? Sensory overload. He fights the urge to hide in the “Market Hall,” which seems to be code for the tchotchkes surburban housewives use to one up each other.

He succumbs to it in the part with all the bedroom set displays. When Betty finds him, he’s standing between a wardrobe and a fake wall concentrating on the feeling of the air conditioning in his nostrils.

“Juggie, come see this one bed over here, I think you’ll really like it—” She stops and studies his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just needed a break, that’s all.”

“Nothing is why I can see the vein pulsing between your eyes and why you’ve got your hat pulled down over your ears?”

He sighs and slides it back into place. “I thought we were just getting bedding and stuff. Betty, your parents are already doing so much. They don’t have to spend all this money on me too.”

“Jug, they want to. It’s not that big a deal. My mom gave me a budget and told me what she thought we should buy. I’ve been keeping track of the costs of everything as we go.”

He doesn’t know how to tell her that it is a big deal. That’s he’s never picked out his own furniture before, and he didn’t know a person was expected to have an opinion on the number of drawers in a nightstand and whether the wood should coordinate with the textiles. Hell, before today he’d never been fully sure what people meant when they said ‘textiles.’

He doesn’t know how to tell her that after months of steering all by himself, he’s afraid to let someone else get back in the driver’s seat. Even someone as terrifyingly competent as Alice Cooper.

“But, Betts, do they know they also volunteered to feed me? For every meal? Do you know how much I eat? Do you know how much a kid costs? And I probably eat twice as much as you and Polly. Well, maybe not Polly right now, but Polly normally. And, oh God, when the babies come? That’s three extra mouths!”

“Jug, stop.” She unhooks his arms from where they’re clenched, folded across his chest. She wraps them around her and slips her own around his waist, resting her chin on his sternum so she can look up at him.

“They know. You know my mother. By the time they asked us last night, she’d already calculated and recalculated the family budget from here til we go to college. I know it’s scary. And I get if you maybe…weren’t ready for this kind of intimacy in our relationship. I mean, last night in the trailer was one thing, but seeing me every morning with no make up and un-brushed teeth? Being around for every crazy Cooper argument?”

He tilts his head down and kisses her forehead. “I can’t wait to see you with no makeup and kiss you with morning breath. And I have a damn good pair of headphones. But your mom said it last night, you’re the perfect family. I don’t fit in that picture. Not least because I don’t have blonde hair.”

“I’ll dye my hair brunette so you won’t stick out so much. And there’s a very good chance the babies will have Blossom red hair.” Betty gives an exaggerated shudder then squeezes him tighter. “Please let them help. It’s just stuff. It’s just some furniture. We don’t have to get it all if you don’t want it, but don’t freak out and convince yourself you’re being a burden. You keep me sane and grounded every day. This is pennies compared to that. Besides, I’m sure you can just dedicate your first book to my mom and she’ll consider you even.” He laughs.

“Okay.”

They stay in the alcove between the wardrobe and the fake wall a few more minutes, and by the time they emerge, Jughead is no longer thinking about budgets and mouths to feed. Instead, he’s focusing on keeping an adequate supply of blood in the top half of his body.

In the end, they settle on a bed and nightstands, a dresser, a desk, and a roll-y chair with good lumbar support. For those late nights he spends writing, Betty says. There are a few tchotchkes, but not as many as before his freak out.

She smiles at him as they check out and it’s like winning the lottery and a lifetime supply of burgers all on the same day.

“Betts.” Jughead pulls on her hand and flicks his eyes toward the cafeteria. Betty rolls her eyes in response.

“Alright, I guess we can’t take your Ikea virginity and not have meatballs.” Jughead’s face splits into a shit-eating grin as he drags her over.

[hollymartinswrites]

Chapters: 15/? Fandom: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti), Doctor Sleep - Stephen King, Doctor Sleep (2019) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh Characters: Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom, Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough, Mike Hanlon, Original Child Character(s), Dan “Danny” Torrance, Abra Stone Additional Tags: Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Domestic, Light Angst, Family Feels, Childhood Trauma, Adoption, Kid Fic, Adopted Children, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Marriage, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier Are Parents, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Catholicism, Richie Tozier Has Issues, Extended Tozier Family, Medical Examinations, Stephen King References, The Shining References, Doctor Sleep References, References to Depression, Depression, Mentioned Sonia Kaspbrak

Summary:

Eddie and Richie embark on the most terrifying experience of all—parenthood. Or, the author desperately needed a domestic, family fix-it for Richie and Eddie and it turned into a much longer, angstier exploration than I expected.

Chapter XV: Growing up isn’t easy but Eddie and Richie are determined to help their daughters along the way.

The next couple of days went by in a blur. The rest of the Losers arrived, were just as shocked as Richie and Eddie at Bev and Ben’s surprise baby, and spent the remainder of the trip hugging, kissing, laughing, and fawning over Tess and Lydia and of course, baby Ida. Even though both men had insisted on no gifts for their daughters, none of the Losers had listened, and their daughters were delighted with their latest Christmas presents (Eddie even had to run out and purchase a new tote bag to lug them home).

But, soon enough, it was time to head back and face reality. The holiday season was over and the girls had school. Eddie, secretly, was looking forward to returning home and by the looks from his husband, he knew Richie felt the same way.

The girls cried when they left for the airport—even shy Tess. Clearly, Ben and Bev’s kindness and patience (and the new addition of an adorable, happy baby) had finally worked their magic on their daughter. Yet, by the time the family pulled into their own driveway, they were all more than relieved.

Together, Eddie and Richie helped the girls unpack, bathe, and get ready for their first day back to school after the break. Both men were grateful that they were raising children who truly enjoyed school and were too busy discussing which new outfits they would wear and what toys to tell their friends about to fret. Soon enough, it was time for bed and both girls, exhausted from their trip, dropped off to sleep easily. Now, it was time for just them.

“We did it,” Richie said, stretching after they walked into their bedroom. “We survived.”

“And the girls did great,” Eddie replied, yawning.

“Yeah, beyond what I expected,” Richie answered. “Guess we can start planning more family trips.”

Eddie nodded and leaned against the doorframe, gazing at his husband, a tender smile on his face. Richie yawned and reached for his dresser drawer before noticing.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Eddie replied, shrugging. “Just...I need to take a shower.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Be quicker if we take one together.”

Richie blinked and Eddie smirked as he watched his husband’s face go slack. After all these years, he still enjoyed shocking him.

“Together?” Richie repeated, his voice unnaturally high. “We haven’t done this since...since…”

“Come on,” Eddie grinned, taking his hand.

“But...what if this kids wake up and need us?”

“Ten minutes,” Eddie replied. “They’ll be fine for ten minutes.”

Richie grinned.

“Baby, when I’m this hard for you, I only need two minutes,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows in a poor imitation of seduction.

Eddie laughed and dragged him into the bathroom.

Work sucked.

He had been looking forward to getting back into the regular routine of things but, as he sat at his desk and stared at the hundreds of emails in his inbox, Eddie realized he would’ve been much happier at home. Rubbing at his eyes in frustration, Eddie sighed and tried to focus. He deleted as many unnecessary emails as possible, responded when necessary, and glanced up to the time. Two minutes had passed. Great.

His phone buzzed. Eddie quickly grabbed it and swiped it open. A text from Richie.

Just picked up Tess. She has her first loose tooth!

Eddie smiled, his heart suddenly light.

Send me a pic, he texted back and waited. And waited. And waited some more. He swallowed nervously but tried to remind himself that Richie was probably driving and shouldn’t he be glad that Richie never texted while driving?

Eddie looked back at his emails and tried to get through a few more, but he noticed he was nervously bouncing his leg. He clenched his free hand and took a deep, calming breath. It did not calm him.

His phone began ringing. He answered it immediately and winced at the sound of his daughter wailing.

“Hey, sorry,” Richie said, sounding breathless. “We had a bit of a meltdown in the car.”

“What happened?��� Eddie asked quickly. “Is she alright? Are you alright?”

“We’re fine,” Richie answered. “We—Tess, it’s okay, I’m talking to Daddy, you can talk to him next—we just got home. And we’re a little freaked out by the whole loose tooth thing.”

Eddie’s heart twisted painfully.

“Let me speak with her,” he said gently.

“Okay, hang on,” Richie said and Eddie could hear him turn away from the phone and say, “Tess, baby, it’s Daddy. He wants to talk to you. Here, lemme wipe your nose. Okay, here you go.”

“Daddy?” whimpered a little wet voice.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie replied, his eyes closing briefly as he tried to keep calm, “are you okay? What’s wrong? Tell me.”

“I...I…” Tess broke down again and Eddie heard Richie gently calming her, “I’m scared!”

Eddie’s heart cracked a bit and he glanced down at his free hand, once again clenched tightly.

“What are you scared of?” he asked softly.

“I don’t wanna lose my tooth,” she wept. “I don’t want the Tooth Fairy to come. It’s gonna hurt.”

“Sweetheart, it’s not going to hurt,” he said quickly before changing tactics, “and it’s okay to be scared. We all get scared sometimes but you know you’re very brave, right?”

Tess was too busy crying to respond.

“Eddie?” Richie said as he got back on the phone.

“Do you need me to come home?”

“No, I think I can get it under control. Besides, it’s your first day back at work.”

Eddie glanced back at his computer screen and frowned. He absently rubbed at his chest, a deep pull nearly taking his breath away.

“I’m coming home,” he said firmly. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Alright, but only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure, Richie.”

Eddie ended the call and stood from his desk, the only thought in his mind that he wanted to be with his family.

He was home in less than half an hour. Richie opened the door before he even had a chance to unlock it, his husband smiling tiredly at him.

“Where’s Tess?” Eddie asked immediately, stepping inside.

“Down for a nap,” Richie answered, closing the door behind him. “I’m sorry, you really didn’t need to come home early.”

“I wanted to,” Eddie sighed, putting down his briefcase. “I couldn’t focus at work anyway. And I couldn’t… not with her upset like that.”

Richie nodded and ran a hand through his unruly hair.

“She calmed down a bit after talking to you,” he said. “She’s still spooked by the whole thing. I don’t know, I guess it’s scary the first time but I wasn’t prepared for a freakout like this. Lydia had only been excited.”

“I know,” Eddie replied. He gazed up at his husband and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “How are you doing?”

Richie offered a gentle smile and shrugged.

“I’m alright,” he sighed. “I guess I was just...thrown off by her meltdown. Tess has been so good lately, so confident.” He shrugged again. “I hate seeing her upset.”

Eddie nodded and leaned up to peck him gently on the lips when they were interrupted by the sound of Tess crying out for her papa. Both men raced to her bedroom and threw open her door, only to see her sitting up in bed, her face hidden in her hands as she cried.

“Tess, Tess,” Eddie gasped, rushing up to her bed with Richie right behind him, “Tess, it’s alright, you’re safe. There’s nothing to worry about. Your papa and I are here.”

She immediately hid her face in his chest, muffling her sobs. Eddie looked up at Richie helplessly, but he looked as troubled as he felt. Surely this was a lot more than merely being scared of a loose tooth.

“Talk to us, kiddo,” Richie offered. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

Tess sniffled and wiped at her eyes before slowly sitting back.

“I knew...I knew my tooth was loose...loose last night,” she hiccuped through the tears. “It’s scary.”

“I know it’s a bit scary but it’s really nothing to fret over,” Eddie promised. “It’s just a part of growing up and it doesn’t hurt, it just feels weird.”

“Yeah, and you get money from the Tooth Fairy,” Richie reminded her.

Tess sniffled again before looking down at her lap.

“I...when I get scared...the bad things come back,” she admitted, her voice thick.

“What bad things?” Eddie asked, cold fear gripping his heart.

“The bad things I see,” she explained. “When I’m scared...they come back. The scary things. Like Papa floating and the mean lady who gave you yucky medicine when you was little, Daddy. I can’t make them go away.”

See, Eddie-Bear? I knew you couldn’t protect her, his mother laughed from the grave. A wave of dizziness overwhelmed him, and Eddie briefly wondered which way to fall in case he collapsed.

“Tess, those are…” Richie swallowed before taking her hands, “those aren’t real. They’re like bad dreams. They can’t hurt you.”

Tess shook her head.

“Abracadabra showed me how to stop them,” she murmured. “But it’s hard when I’m scared.”

Eddie blinked and was suddenly aware of Richie’s arms around him and their daughter. An intense desire to give way to tears overwhelmed him but for Tess’s sake, he remained quiet. He closed his eyes as he felt Richie kissing the top of both of their heads.

“It’s alright,” he whispered, “it’s alright, Tess.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said gently, “your Papa is right. They can’t hurt you. I know they’re scary but they can’t hurt you. They’re like memories or something.”

Tess nodded, tears still streaming down her face.

“And we’d never let anything hurt you,” Richie insisted. “Your daddy and I both promise you that.”

“I know,” Tess murmured.

“Just remember how brave you are,” Eddie whispered. “You and Lydia can do anything.”

“And a loose tooth has nothing on you,” Richie reminded her.

She nodded again and snuggled closer to her dads. Eddie closed his eyes again and took a deep breath, allowing his husband and daughter to center him.

“We need to talk to Abra,” Eddie declared later that night.

Richie looked up and nodded once.

“I suppose so,” he sighed.

“Her classes probably started up again,” Eddie considered. “What did she say? She’s a junior?”

“Sophomore, I think,” Richie answered.

“Well, I don’t want to take her away from her classes,” Eddie replied. “I just want her to...like...reassure Tess.”

Richie gazed off into the middle of the room and a sad smile appeared on his face.

“She doesn’t like change, poor thing,” he whispered. He turned towards Eddie. “Reminds me of you.”

Eddie sighed and shook his head.

“Maybe I’m overreacting,” he muttered. “Maybe we just need to take her to the therapist again.”

“We can do both,” Richie offered. He leaned back to lay on their bed. “At least Lydia was able to calm her down a bit about losing a tooth.” He sighed. “I’m not crazy about it either.”

Eddie furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Not crazy about what?” he asked.

Richie hesitated before admitting, “Tess losing a tooth means that she’s growing up.”

Eddie smiled and shook his head before stepping up to the bed and laying beside his husband. He rested an arm over his chest and sighed deeply.

“Our kids have to grow up,” he said gently.

“I know that,” Richie shot back. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Eddie leaned in to kiss his cheek. Richie turned his head to catch Eddie’s lips with his own, his own hands reaching to card through Eddie’s hair.

“Maybe…” he murmured against Eddie’s lips, “maybe if we had a baby…”

Eddie burst out laughing.

“You ass,” he insisted. “I knew that was coming soon.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did, you’re not very subtle, Richie.”

Richie sighed and gazed up at the ceiling.

“But…”

“And what if we had a baby?” Eddie asked, leaning up on his elbows. “That baby will grow up, too. And what then? We get another baby?”

Richie shrugged.

“That’s a possibility,” he admitted.

Eddie rolled his eyes and, with his fingers, gently turned Richie’s face towards him. He smiled down at his husband, love filling him so completely that, for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

“You’re a ridiculous man, Richard Tozier,” he murmured. “And I love you for it. But maybe let’s not discuss having another kid while our current one is in the middle of a crisis.”

Richie’s eyes grew brighter.

“You mean, you’d be up to discussing having another kid later?” he asked tentatively.

Eddie smiled again and nodded. Richie grinned and reached up, bringing his husband down to meet his lips once again. His hands carded through Eddie’s hair and, for the second time that day, Eddie felt dizzyingly weak. This time was much better.

“Where are we going?” Lydia asked for the upteenth time, swinging her and her father’s arms as she held his hand.

“We told you, the park,” Richie reminded her, squeezing her hand in reply.

“Bu it’s cold out,” she pointed out.

“It’s not that cold,” Richie answered. “And after the park, we’ll go get lunch.”

“Can we go to the American Girl store?” she asked.

“No, we have other plans.”

“What about the Museum of Natural History?”

Richie opened his mouth to refuse but immediately thought better of it and gazed at Eddie imploringly. Eddie shook his head. Nearly every trip to New York City resulted in Richie trying to convince Eddie to go to that museum again and though Eddie loved it, too, they had plans today.

“We’re nearly there,” Eddie said gently, “and if there’s enough time, we may be able to get to the zoo.”

Both girls cheered excitedly and Eddie hoped he wasn’t promising something he couldn’t come through with. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint his daughters...and Richie.

“I’m tired of walking,” Tess declared suddenly, pulling on his arm.

“Oh yeah?” Eddie replied. “Should we get you a stroller? Like baby Ida?”

Tess nodded solemnly and Eddie ran his hand through her hair.

“You’re far too grown up for that,” he observed. “I think you can handle another block or so.”

She gazed up at him with wide, plaintive eyes, and Eddie heard Richie sigh beside him.

“She learned that puppy dog look from you, you know,” Richie insisted.

Eddie was about to shoot back a snarky response when Lydia suddenly asked if they were finally at the park. The two men looked up.

“Yep,” Richie said. “Come on, let’s go find a bench to sit down for a minute.”

“What are we doing here, anyway?” Lydia asked. “We’re not seeing a play, are we?”

“No,” Richie sighed. “Did anyone ever tell you you ask a ton of questions?”

Lydia nodded.

“You did,” she pointed out, “but you said that was good and it shows I’m clever.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

Eddie sat down on a bench with Tess on his lap, his husband and other daughter following behind him.

“Your comeuppance for talking so much as a kid, Rich,” he observed. “At least, Lydia asks questions and not just spews nonsense like you did.”

Richie tried to glare but ended up smiling. Lydia began explaining what clever things she had recently done in school as the family rested on the bench, observing the people going about their day in the park. Eddie took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, wrapping his arms around Tess. This was nice. He could sit here all day with his family.

“Hey,” Richie said suddenly, his voice light, “who’s that over there, Tess?”

Eddie followed Richie’s pointing finger and a wave of nervousness washed over him. He prayed, not for the first time, that this wasn’t a big mistake. He needed Tess to be okay with it. He squeezed her in his arms again and watched her look, as well. When she spotted who her father was pointing to, she froze.

“Who’s that?” Lydia asked.

Before anyone could answer, Tess shrieked, “Abracadabra!” and launched herself out of Eddie’s arms. Stunned, he watched her race to the approaching young woman—a wide smile on her face—and throw her arms around her excitedly. They hugged for a long moment before Tess released her, took her hand and all but dragged her to her family.

“Daddy, Papa,” she cried, “this is Abracadabra! She’s real. I told you!”

“I know,” Eddie said, smiling as he glanced at his husband. Richie was also smiling and his eyes were shining brightly. “We always believed you, sweetheart.”

It was dark before they finally decided it was time to head home. Tess cried. Lydia pouted. Even Abra seemed upset but both men promised to visit again soon and plan more get togethers during the summer break.

“Good,” Abra insisted, “maybe I can come down by you guys at one point. The city is intolerable in the summer.”

“Oh, I remember,” Eddie agreed. “Tess, Lydia, say thank you to Abra for hanging out with us today.”

“Thank you,” Lydia declared, smiling.

Tess hesitated before throwing her arms around her again and hugging her tightly.

“Thank you, Abracadabra,” she whispered.

“Aw, you’re welcome,” Abra replied. “Are you feeling better now? Not so scared anymore, right?”

Tess nodded and wiped at her eyes before stepping back and taking her father’s hand.

“Thank you, Abra,” Richie said, his voice surprisingly serious, “for everything. For helping our daughter so much.” He swallowed and seemed at a loss for words. Abra merely smiled again and nodded.

Eddie cleared his throat and extended his hand. Abra took it.

“Yes, thank you,” he said softly. “I...we...thank you.”

Abra sniffed and shrugged.

“It was nothing,” she said quickly. “I just hope she does better now. No more getting scared, right, Tess?”

“Right,” Tess agreed.

The two men looked at the young woman and both felt compelled to do more than merely take her out for lunch and dinner. Still, to a college student, free food was better than gold, Eddie reasoned. He sighed and shook his head.

“Get home safe,” he said firmly.

“Don’t talk to strangers,” Lydia reminded her and Abra laughed.

“Okay, I promise,” she said and with one last quick hug to Tess, headed towards the subway.

Richie turned to gaze at his husband before looking down at their youngest daughter.

“Tess,” he asked, “was this a good thing? Was it good to see Abracadabra in person?”

Tess looked up at her father, her eyes bright and clear. She nodded vigorously.

“Yes, Papa,” she said, “I like seeing my friend.”

“It’s good to have friends,” Richie smiled, taking her other hand. “Your Daddy and I know that better than anyone.”

[spnsimpleman]

The Unknowns: Six

This is a continuation for The Unknowns.  Which was a one shot and is now a long ass Prologue.  Part One.  Part Two. Part Three. Part Four.  Part Five. 

Dean x Psychic!reader

Teaser/Summary: An AU sparked from a songfic challenge, The Unknowns is based on Season One Episode Nine, Dean met reader in Lawrence as a child and they created an unbreakable bond. At the end of The Unknowns, reader decided to stick with her boys because she felt something coming but she holds secrets; one she holds close to her heart and a few that she doesn’t even really know yet.

Word count: 4839

Lines borrowed from season one episode sixteen, “Shadow” in Bold.

I walked around the living room and wondered what was taking the boys so long. Sam said it wouldn’t take much time to get the uniforms but I had been able to dig into Meredith’s past enough for a family member alias and talked my way into her apartment five minutes ago. At least a good thirty minutes of work. So much for costumes making it work. I should’ve made a bet.

This had always been one of the harder parts of hunting for me. The boys could search a person’s life for clues and most times stay objective, detached enough to do the job while still respecting the dead they’re trying to give a little justice. I walked through the shell of this woman’s life and picked up more than a fair share of who she was. The victims were always more real to me in a sense like I had known them, interacted with them, and sometimes cared for them.

Dean hadn’t understood it at first. He couldn’t understand why I couldn’t shake them off like other impressions but going through a place that someone had made their home left so many fingerprints of who they are, it’s impossible not to get to know them. Sometimes I felt like I had known them forever mainly because they felt like someone I had either known or like someone I would want to.

Meredith was orderly without being a clean freak. Her desk was neat but inside the drawers, things were haphazard. Her living room was nicely furnished but on a budget and she still kept CDs and cassette tapes with a stereo that played both instead of going completely digital. There were pops of color and decor that stuck out, things that caught her eye and she bought on a whim just because it made her day a little brighter.

She was happy here but there was a recent underlying loneliness that pervaded the rooms, something she was hopeful might change hence the surface cleaning she had done recently. She had met someone and the hope of something new, an exciting change in the air that still hung around.

“Miss Rodgers?” The landlady called from the front of the apartment.

“Yes?” I left the bedroom and tried to leave Meredith there where her hope for the future still dominant.

“These men are from the alarm company. They’re just going to check into things if you don’t mind.”

I walked into the living room and eyed them. Okay, the uniforms were a nice touch, Dean didn’t look half bad in his. I met dean’s gaze and scowled, “your alarms are shit.”

The surprise on Dean’s face was priceless then his pulse of excitement fluttered in my stomach. He glanced at the landlady, she answered with a raised brow and a smile. “This is Meredith’s sister.”

“We’re sorry for your loss.” Sam gave me the client treatment he was so damn good at because he meant it.

“We’re going to make sure it doesn’t happen again, mam.” Dean sauntered toward me and stuck out his hand, “I’m Dean.”

“Save it for someone who cares,” I snapped and pivoted away then glanced over my shoulder, “by the way, your name’s written on your chest, asshat.” I walked out of the room and shut the bedroom door to cover the laughter I was afraid I couldn’t hold in. Dean’s arousal spiked through me and I bit my lip.

I listened at the door while they talked with her then she finally took her leave with a word of warning. “You boys do your business and leave her alone. She’s suffered enough, the poor thing.”

Once the front door shut, I stepped out and Dean was already halfway to me. “What took you guys so…” Dean’s mouth cut me off.

“Dude! Crime scene.”

Dean pulled away and I had to force myself not to follow. “That had to happen. I’m working, don’t distract me.”

I watched him walk over to the toolbox and squat down to pull out a piece of equipment. He glanced over his shoulder and raised his brow. I grinned then walked over to Sam. “Just centering myself.” Dean choked then cleared his throat.

Sam looked up from his emf meter slightly annoyed, “what did you find?”

“I stayed away from the carpet but everywhere else is untouched. Zero trace except for there, like it just apparated out of nowhere and tore her apart. I didn’t want to go any closer to it without you guys. It’s heavy, dark. Whatever this thing is it’s not in our normal wheelhouse.” I looked down at the carpet and Dean sidled up next to me and tilted his head.  

“So it’s probably a spirit.”

Dean’s interest spiked and I started to notice a pattern when Dean asked for masking tape. We split up until Sam found some in the kitchen and Dean got to work.

I knelt down and brushed my hand from one spot to the next then had to back away. Her death may have been relatively fast but it wasn’t fast enough.

Sam’s hand touched my back and I gave him an appreciative smile. Dean was almost finished when Sam finally asked the question burning a hole in his head. “Did you get something?”

I stared at the carpet as Dean connected his last dot. “I’ve never felt anything like this, like a reaper but different… no rules or class type different. This thing is ancient and dark.”

Dean stood up and we took in the symbol he created that didn’t give us anything but a new clue to follow.

~~

Sam and I walked into the loud bar and sat down at the first open table. He opened John’s journal and pulled out the newspapers clippings we gathered at the library. Sam glanced over at Dean leaning on the bar. “I still don’t know how he does that with you right here.”

I looked at Dean, his easy smile and the confidence in his stance. “He’s harmless besides he really can get people to talk. Okay, mainly women but you have to admit he has a pretty face.” Sam chuckled and shook his head. “I find it interesting to watch him work.”

“He’s flirting.”

“But he does it so well.” I grinned feeling his eye roll, “besides I flirt for cases. Remember that time when I had to get us into that museum…”

He turned to me, “are you serious? You mean the case where Dean decked the dude because he tried pulling you into an artifacts room.”

“Different museum. That was the first time I used my feminine wiles to get further in the case. Not telling Dean ahead of time was a bad choice.”

Sam laughed, “you two are so weird.”

I leaned into him, “we’re all a little weird, Sammy.”

“What are you two giggling like school girls for?” Dean strutted toward the table.

“Hilarious.”

“Hi, lover,” I smirked as Dean leaned down and kissed me.

“Won’t the bartender you were flirting with be offended that you’re over here kissing someone?”

Dean dragged the stool on the other side of the table over toward me and sat down grinning at Sam, “nope. I was getting her number for you. She thinks you’re cute, by the way.”

Sam threw a glance at the bartender then dropped his head and began to ramble about the small amount of information we found on the one other victim besides Meredith. There were no dots to connect except for the cause of death.

Dean’s hand had started at my knee and began inching up my leg. I think he was listening but it was impossible to tell with the storm he was creating.  

The flare of recognition then confusion spiked through the haze of sexual energy before I noticed it on Sam’s face. He got up and walked across the room. Dean watched him then looked at me in question. I shrugged, “I think he knows someone.”

Dean twisted in his seat to see who Sam was stalking toward. “Think we should check it out?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“Because I’m bored and when was the last time Sam did that?”

“You’re always bored.” I grinned and he turned back to me then leaned toward me.

“Not always.” Butterflies burst in my stomach as he trailed his fingers down my neck and over my collarbone.

“You have been extremely horny recently.”

“A new lease on life can do that to a man especially if he’s got a beautiful, strong woman teasing him all the time.”

“I am not a tease,” I smirked and slid my hand up his leg.

His eyes widened, “I’d call that teasing.”

I grabbed his jacket and yanked him to me so we were nose to nose. I glanced down at his mouth then met his gaze again, delighting in his dilating pupils. “That, my friend, is called foreplay. It’s only a tease if I don’t follow through.”

He closed his eyes and waited. I released him then got off my seat. “Oh look, Sam met a friend.” I started across the room and glanced over my shoulder to see the smirk stretch into a smile as he jumped off his stool and strode toward me with a purpose that heated my skin.

Dean caught up with me, grabbing my ass as I stopped beside Sam, bumping into him. I apologized before looking at the blonde woman in front of him. A muffled scream ripped through my head. I grabbed Dean’s hand and squeezed while forcing a smile.

“This is my best friend Y/n and my brother Dean.”

“This is Dean?”

I tried to keep up with the conversation but my focus was on the woman in front of me or really on what she wasn’t saying. That scream definitely came from her and there were conflicting emotions and energies that didn’t make sense. Anger, abandonment, rage, loneliness, and darkness, but there was some kind of disconnect that broke them apart yet they were tied together.

Dean tugged my hand and I glanced his way. He tilted his head toward the bar and pulled me with him. I waved at the woman then followed Dean’s lead.

“Did you hear that? I treat him like luggage? What the hell is that supposed to mean? I didn’t lock him in the trunk. What the fuck, I don’t even know her. I should put him in the trunk, I just have to bend those long ass legs and he’d fit. Oh, he’d fit.” The bartender put a drink in front of him and he ordered another for me then squeezed my hand. “You okay?”

I looked up still confused but more comfortable with the distance. “Something’s weird with her.”

“Leave it to Sam to find a crazy one.”

“I think it’s deeper than that but I don’t understand it.” Dean and I glanced back and Sam had his phone out. “Sam’s not too sure about something either.”

Dean knocked back his shot and I reached for mine glancing back at Sam with a hint of something I always took as a warning. By the pricking of my thumbs. Pamela’s voice whispered a reminder in my head, instincts keep you alive, honey. Never shake away a guiding hand.

I caught Sam’s glance and he headed for the table. I knocked back the shot and squeezed Dean’s hand. “Settle the tab. We’ll meet you at the door.”

Another flare of arousal but I ignored it. We definitely needed our own room tonight. Sam already had everything back in the journal and was closing it when I stopped next to him. “Who was that?”

He glanced over my shoulder toward the blonde woman then indicated the door. We started for it and he leaned toward me, “I don’t know but it’s… weird.”

I looked up at him, “what do you mean?”

“I met her on the side of the road when I left you guys weeks ago and we just happen to bump into each other again? It’s just weird. It just feels…”

“Oh, Something’s definitely off about her but I don’t know what it is.” We went outside and waited just to the side of the door. “Same place Meredith worked. Even without what I felt.”

“Right?” Sam sighed, “I thought I’d have to talk you guys into this.”

“Into what?”

Dean walked out and moved straight for us. “Who the hell was that, luggage? That’s what she said, right? You bitching about me…”

I pressed my hand to the middle of his chest and he looked down at me. “Dean.”

“Look, I’m sorry, Dean. It was when we had that huge fight when I was in that bus stop in Indiana. But that’s not important, just listen…”

“Well, is there any truth to what she’s saying? Because you know that shit just ends up blowing up in our faces…”

“No, of course not. Now, would you listen?” 

Dean glanced down at me before looking at his brother, “go on.”

“I could be wrong, I’m just sayin’ that there’s something about this girl that I can’t quite put my finger on.”

Dean grinned and I elbowed him before he could say a word. “I don’t know what’s up with her but I get like… a caged feeling if that makes any sense.”

Dean glanced at me and Sam started walking away from the bar. We caught up with him and he looked at me, “do me a favor. Check and see if there’s really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can’t dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith’s floor.”

I grabbed his arm, “I don’t like it.”

He stopped, “I don’t have a choice. If there is something going on here that she’s involved in?”

“Y/n and I are great at research. You go watch your crazy girlfriend.”

Sam gave him a disapproving look and I squeezed Sam’s arm. “Be careful. I don’t like what I felt from her and I hate that I don’t know what it means.”

Sam nodded, “you and me both.” He handed me John’s journal and held out his hand for the car keys. Dean handed them over wiggling his eyebrows.

I watched Sam then tugged Dean’s arm and we headed down the sidewalk toward the motel.

Dean wrapped his arm around my back until his hand rested on my hip then dipped into my jeans. “We’re going to have the room to ourselves for what, an hour? Maybe more?”

“And we have research to do.”

“How long could it possibly take to look up some chick and an old symbol?”

I thought it over and asked the real question, “you mean how long will it take if we have sex first or after?”

“You wouldn’t.”

I grinned staring toward the motel enjoying the anticipation. “It’s amazing how fast you work when there’s something so…”

“Devil woman.” But his excitement stroked my own and I had to tamp down the rising rebel. I was not going to let our out of control sex drives make Sam feel like he was doing all the work.

“I was going to say tempting but whatever helps you get the job done.”

He maneuvered behind me then gripped my hips as we awkwardly continued to walk with his mouth against my neck. “I always get the job done.”

“You’ve admitted sometimes it’s better when I beg.”

He hissed, “fuck,” then lightly bit my neck.

“We’ll get there if you can find out what that symbol is.”

“And you dig up crazytown?”

“Yup.”

He whipped around me, grabbed my hand, and hustled through the parking lot. I was throbbing and a full on ache had already started but I couldn’t stop the laughter. It was a kneejerk reaction and Dean knew it.

He opened the door, yanked me inside, and pushed me against the door simultaneously shutting it and pinning me in place.

He kissed my neck then hovered his mouth in front of mine. His tongue swiped out in a very deliberate move over his bottom lip then he smirked at my uncontrollable moan. He leaned in achingly slow and moved his head to the side bringing his lips flush against my ear, “forty-five tops until you crack.”

My shuttering inhale may have been a reaction but I arched my back for more contact with his chest then snaked my hand in between us brushing by his jeans zipper. “I bet I can confirm Meg Masters in thirty minutes.”

He sucked in a breath, “what do I have to do again?”

I gripped his hips and yanked him against me. “Symbol. Meaning and origin, if possible.”

He dropped his head on my shoulder and groaned. “You’re going to have to push me away.”

I slipped my hands under his shirt then skimmed around the top of jeans to his stomach before sliding up to his chest. He lifted his head and stared at me with an intensity that matched the energy dancing inside me. I bit my lip as my gaze landed on his mouth then pressed my lips to his far too gently to ease any of the aches throbbing between us. I pulled back, “just a taste to tide you over.” His eyes flashed and I almost lost my own resolve.

“Symbol.” He whispered, his voice husky.

“Crazytown. The Journal’s in the secret pocket of my jacket.” He slipped his hand inside my jacket brushing against my breast and I closed my eyes reminding myself we had a job to do first, that Sam was depending on us. Dean’s pride rushed through me and the journal left its spot.

I pushed him away and he turned, striding over to the bed as I went straight to the table. I sat down and my jeans pressed against my bundle of nerves. Even if I could stifle my moan, Dean already felt the echo.

“Oh, come on, that’s cheating.”

I opened the laptop and powered it on, focusing on what I needed to find immediately. Anticipation was amazing but now I was bordering on torture. The next thirty minutes would be impossible.

Dean was already calling someone in John’s journal and the search engine finally opened. How long could it possibly take?

Twenty minutes later, I was wet and every movement was a torturous tease. I had called Pamela hoping she’d be able to give me answers about what I felt from Meg and for a distraction but I had to leave a message. Every time I’d get a little clarity, a shift in my seat or a flare from Dean brought me right back. I’d just about given up on my whole plan when the search finally yielded results.

I jumped up from my seat and he stood from the bed. He dropped the journal on the floor and we snapped, slamming together like runaway trains. His hands were everywhere and mine were seeking to rid him of his clothes but then sense magically reappeared and hit the breaks.

I pressed my forehead to his, “wait.” We were panting, our shirts on the floor, his belt was undone and my jeans were unbuttoned. “Sam first.” He chuckled and I shook my head, “not done until Sam has the infor…” my breath hitched as he shoved his hand into my pants and cupped the ache throbbing between my legs.

I growled, “fucking hell, not done. I’ve made it this long I can damn well make it three more minutes.” I dragged him over to the bed, grabbed the notebook he was writing in, then yanked him over to my chair and shoved him onto it.

I picked up my phone, hit Sam’s speed dial, and pressed it into Dean’s hand. He stared at the phone and I straddled his lap with a single grind for that cheap trick.

“I’m not going to be able to thi…” he cleared this throat, “let me guess you’re lurking outside of crazytown’s apartment, aren’t you? Meg. Who else would I be talking about?”

I rolled my hips and he clenched his teeth. I pressed a kiss to the back of his jaw then sucked lightly at the sweet spot on his neck.

“Yeah, everything checks out, we even got her high school photo.”

I bit lightly on his earlobe and whispered, “we?”

“Why don’t you knock on her door and invite her to a poetry reading. Ow.”

I rubbed the spot on his arm where I had just dug my nails. “Ignore him, Sam. He’s just a little frustrated.”

He narrowed his eyes at me as he listened to Sam’s response. “Yeah, I did have some luck with that.”

I leaned back and unhooked my bra as he continued to rattle off the information with his eyes glued to my chest. I touched each strap on my shoulders and he licked his lips as his gaze flicked up to mine.

“They’re savage.” I pushed off one strap and let it fall.

“Animalistic.”

Then did the same with the second. My arms were the only thing keeping the final pieces of material between our upper bodies. “Who cares how I found out. Just listen, these things have to be summoned and they’re worse than a bound reaper.” He pinched the cup of my bra and gazed directly into my eyes as he pulled it down.

I massaged the back of his neck and his gaze darted up to mine. “Nobody knows, dude. They haven’t been seen in a millennia. Like y/n said, it’s ancient and somebody has to know their stuff. I think we got a major player in town.” He leaned forward until his mouth was achingly close, “now why don’t you give that girl a private stripogram. No, bite her. Just don’t leave teeth marks though just enough to where…” he grinned up at me and snapped his phone shut throwing it over his shoulder. “Gets him every time.”

I squirmed in his lap, his mouth was still so close. “Dean.”

His eyes flashed and his tongue swept over his lips. I moaned and rolled my hips shamelessly rubbing against him while my kneading fingers dug into his neck urging him closer. He opened his mouth and the heat alone lit up my nerve endings.

The corner of his mouth quirked up, “yeah, I love this.”

Just as I was considering arching my back to push closer, he finally closed his mouth over my nipple. I cried out at the burst of sensations from his side and mine and rubbed against him, riding out the orgasm.

He whispered against my skin as he lifted me from the chair, “I told you I get the job done.”

I smirked dropping my feet to the floor and pushed him toward the bed, “job’s not done yet, cowboy.”

He was already kicking out of his jeans with his gaze riveted on my hands pushing my own down further with each step toward him. “Oh, hell yes. This…” his gaze shot up to mine as the back of his legs hit the bed, “this is my favorite.”

~~

Excited voices drew me from a warm dream. It was like little pokes in my head until I could finally put meaning to words.

“But I don’t understand. What’s the significance of Lawrence? And how do these Daeva things fit in?”

“Beats me. But I say we trash that black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation.”

“What are you doing?” I leaned up on my elbow. “I thought you were supposed to pick something up from that officer… Amy?”

“That was forty minutes ago.”

I rubbed my eyes, my mind still clearing the fog, “what?”

“We’ve got something solid. It’s gotta be the demon. We’re going to…”

“We shouldn’t tip her off. We’ve gotta stake out that warehouse and see who or what is showing up to meet her.”

Dean turned back to Sam, “I don’t think we should do this alone. He’d want to be a part of this.”

That warning crept along my neck and prickled down my arms. I sat up, “I don’t think you should go at all.”

They both looked at me, “what?”

“Something’s not right with her.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, she’s controlling some ancient attack dogs.”

“Beyond that.”

Sam was hesitant and I wondered if he could feel the building tension too.

Dean, on the other hand, was determined, confident in his decision, even relishing the possible end in his sights. “This is the closest we’ve gotten to the thing that killed mom.”

“Or it’s just what it wants you to think!” I snapped and glared at him feeling his anger waver in my chest. “What if the whole thing is a setup?”

Sam walked over to the bed and sat down, staying calm and in control. “We knew it would be tricky getting close to the thing.”

“Your dad’s been close to it before. It wasn’t stumbling upon a case that’s too neat.”

“What do you mean too neat? These people were torn apart!” Dean stood up so fast the chair fell backward. His frustration was flooding his system so bad that he had to move but he was fighting it.

“These murders that pulled us in and Meg being here.” I looked at Sam hoping he’d see reason. “You said it was weird that you bumped into Meg here. You felt something off about it.”

“That’s why I followed her.”

“And what if she knew? What if that was part of the plan?” That hit Sam and his bubbling excitement faded just a bit.

“What plan? Sammy’s good, he was taught by the best and if this is our shot at taking it out then we’re taking it!” Dean began to pace and I couldn’t figure out why he was suddenly so gung-ho.

“What changed in the last forty minutes that makes you so sure?” I tried to calm down. I knew that we could get out of hand and shutting him out may only make things worse with the way the bond’s been since that night the reaper came for him.

Dean stormed over to the table, using the space to calm down too. He picked up two pieces of paper and came back handing them to me. “Place of birth.”

I skimmed the birth certificates and my stomach twisted into knots. “This only solidifies my theory. You’re too close to this.”

“Of course, I’m close to this! The damn thing killed my mother!”

I jumped out of the bed and stabbed my finger into his chest. “You think I don’t remember that?! Maybe I don’t want your dumbass strolling in there to let him kill you too!”

“That’s not gonna happen!”

“How would you know?!”

“Because we’re not stupid!”

“Neither was your mother!”

Dean raised his hand and I stared back at him. Anger, frustration, fear, and hurt bounced back and forth with the force of a heavy steel ball, each one hitting harder than the last. There was never any fear that he would lay a harmful hand on me but Sam’s fear in that moment broke the loop. 

I examined Dean’s hand, clenched in almost a claw that he would run through his hair whenever that pulse of anger released but Sam didn’t know that. I knew we’d gone too far or really, were too far gone to tell.

I stepped back as Dean’s hands dove roughly into his hair. I was standing there with just Dean’s black tee shirt on and thankfully, he had thought to put it on me at some point or I’d be standing there completely naked. Another sign we were too close to this, that things had gotten out of hand.

I climbed over the bed and grabbed my jeans from the floor and tugged them on then stormed out of the room without a word. I needed to release some of the pent-up energy. I needed to get away so I only had my feelings to deal with and sort out. I walked with a quick step through the hall and down the stairs trying to look normal then burst out into the night air.

I stood on the wet, cold sidewalk in bare feet and pulled my arms into Dean’s tee shirt. There was a cheap plastic chair under the awning to the right of the back door and I sat down pulling my legs up to my chest. I lowered my forehead to my knees and pressed his shirt to my nose. Breathing him in and thinking of how different it was only two hours ago.

How did that get so out of hand so damn fast? Miss Mary. Neither one of us were all that clear-headed when we thought of that night and what we lost. I should’ve thought of that, I should’ve known, but even with extraordinary abilities, I was still human whether I liked it or not.

Seven

@duchessofwinchester , @jodyri , @jencharlan , @deanssweetheart23 @torn-and-frayed , @chrisatplay , @mogaruke , @captainemwinchester , @ashrod98 , @mrswhozeewhatsis , @purgatoan  , @caitsymichelle13  , @escabell

[shiroe-is-my-baby]

ZombieAU - 1

Summary: A zombie outbreak struck the world over a year ago. Civilization is no more, and what’s left of it seems to be nonexistent. Ashley has to survive with her friends as long as it takes, going through more than just trials of survival, but relationships and trauma as well. In this chapter, her, Shiroe, Akatsuki and Naotsugu are sent to scavenge for supplies and medicine. Things don’t seem to be as easy as it appears.

W: self-insert, fluff, (eventual) gore, zombies!

Part 1 | Part 2 |

Things were all too quiet. It didn’t seem right given the distance that we traveled from camp. We should have seen something by now. My hand shook around the gun in my hand, holding it still with the other while I walked cautiously. Broken pieces of glass crunched beneath my feet, scattered across the road from a nearby wrecked vehicle. Akatsuki leaned inside of it, scrounging for supplies while Naotsugu looked out.

“It’s all clear over here. There’s nothing for miles,” Shiroe shouted back to us from a distance, having gone off to check and make sure nothing would jump out at us.

“It doesn’t make sense,” I mumbled, “Why haven’t we seen anything yet? I thought we would have ran into some of those freaks at least once on our way.”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure not waiting around to find out.”

Naotsugu rested the shotgun on his shoulders, his eyes flickering from mine to Shiroe’s. I felt his slender fingers lace through my own, a soft reassuring smile following shortly after. “It’s okay. We’ll just get what we need. We won’t be long,” He said, trying to calm me down. Shiroe’s smile always calmed me down. Even in this fucked up life we lived.

Shiroe pressed a kiss to my forehead, squeezing my hand reassuringly. I readjusted the straps from my backpack on my shoulder, hearing the sound of Akatsuki’s voice fill the air. She pulled herself out of the car, holding a flashlight and some batteries. That was hard to come by now-a-days, but it wasn’t what we needed.

“This was all I could find. So much for supplies,” She mumbled, kicking her boots against the ground in frustration, “I thought you said there would be some resources along this way?”

“There was supposed to be,” Shiroe answered, “From what I heard from Henrietta there should be a building around here that hadn’t been scavenged yet.”

“Well, where is it?”

His mouth twisted in thought, eyes flickering around the rather barren stretch of road. Every building was visibly empty, most of them we’ve searched through. It didn’t seem like there was anything of use to us. He adjusted his glasses onto his face, sighing softly in frustration. We’d been walking for about an hour now, and we didn’t exactly want to go back to camp with nothing.

There were members of our group that were starving and some that needed medical supplies we didn’t have. We were running out of time, and I could see that the stress was taking a toll on Shiroe. I hated seeing him like this. His mind always goes towards the best possible solution, but when there isn’t many options left he becomes… scatterbrained.

“Maybe someone got here before us. You heard rumors of a group of raiders nearby, right? Maybe that’s it.”

I was trying to help, and Shiroe could see that.

“You’re probably right. There’s no use in searching the places twice. Akatsuki, you go with Naotsugu and see if there’s anything we may have missed. Ashley and I will go try and find some first aid in the hospital over there.”

“Okay.”

“You got it boss.”

They both nodded to us, Naotsugu shouting quickly for us to be careful. Watching them disappear into a nearby building, I felt a hand touch my elbow. I turned towards Shiroe, seeing his reassuring smile. I smiled in return, the gun in my hands feeling just a little heavier. Being out here made me nervous. The quiet seemed really off, and Shiroe could feel it too. I could see it in his eyes.

He motioned with his head for me to follow him, keeping a steady pace in front of me. I wanted to walk evenly with him, but I knew he’d never let me do that. I’m not sure why he wants to protect me like this. I’m way better at being in front. He knows that, but after the day we’ve had… he didn’t want to see anything bad happen to me.

I still reached for his hand, fingers grazing the warmth for just a second. It helped me feel a little more secure. He helped me step over the rather cluttered entryway of the abandoned hospital building, furniture tossed around no doubt from the beginning of the outbreak. There was rumors that a lot of people weren’t too excited about the quarantine. And after they were abandoned, there was many similar places that were raided. Most hospitals don’t have any supplies. It’s rare that anyone is able to find anything.

Hopefully, this will be our lucky day.

“I’ll go check out this hallway and clear it,” I said.

Before I could leave, I felt a hand on my shoulder to stop me. My eyes flicked over to Shiroe who looked rather stern. I swallowed, pursing my lips hesitantly. “No, stay with me. The building is too big for us to split up, especially since it’s just us,” He said, his face relaxing slowly.

“Right, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I just don’t want anything to happen to you. I have a… weird feeling.”

“You too?”

He nodded, slipping his hand from my shoulder. The seriousness on his face worried me a hit. When Shiroe was worried than that was my time to feel uneasy. Usually he tries so hard to hide his true feelings to try his best not to scare me. Or any of us. When, in fact, it makes us even more nervous.

Shiroe turned around, and I followed him down one of the hallways. Since the place was too big to search every individual room, we scouted the rooms on the first floor. We went around to make sure that there were no zombies in the surrounding area. Even after a year I still couldn’t get used to saying that outloud. Zombies.

Chewing on my tongue in concentration, I tightened my grip on my gun as I got into position in front of the door. We’ve done this so many times it’s basically routine now. Shiroe opens the door, slowly and cautiously, allowing us to see inside. That’s when I pull up my gun, fingers ready to put a bullet in any threat behind it.

Relief washed over me when we scanned the area. No zombies. “Okay, looks all clear,” I said, still keeping my gun close. I know to expect anything. Never to let my guard down. Shiroe nods his head, turning around to open up any drawers and cabinets. I follow right behind him, but my main focus is making sure that no one or anything gets the drop on us.

He let out a frustrated sigh, shoving the last drawer closed. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he grumbled under his breath. “We have other rooms to check. Maybe we’ll find something in there,” I said, trying to lighten his mood a bit. He dropped his arm to his side, giving me a quick nod.

“I’m just worried… if we don’t get there in time.”

“Shiroe, she’s going to be fine. Marielle is with her.”

“I guess… we just need to hurry.”

I nodded in agreement, seeing the truth behind his worries.

We really needed to get this medicine. A friend is dependent on it. Shiroe was more than scared that we’d be too late. It was my job to make sure he stays calm and levelheaded. I really didn’t need him going crazy on me. Not now.

Shiroe and I examined he rest of the rooms on the first floor. Almost all of them were completely empty. We started to grow disappointed the more we looked. Shiroe was getting antsy, the creases in his brow growing by the minute. I tried to calm him, but even I was starting to lose hope.

Until we found it. The last room was like our saving grace. In the table we found the exact medicine we were looking for. It was like a miracle. Shiroe’s smile warmed my heart, opening up my back to put the supplies into it. We found some bandages and a couple bottles of water. It was a surprise, and we were extremely thankful.

It seemed like everything was going to be okay.

“See? I told you we’d find it,” I said with a smile.

Shiroe nodded, following me back to the main entrance to the building.

“Yeah… You were right. What would I do without you here to keep me calm?”

“I’m not sure. Probably go crazy. Well, more than you already are.”

I winked, watching him chuckle softly. We stopped near the entrance, our smiles brightening. My heart skipped a couple beats when he looked at me like that. It was wonderful that even in he apocalypse I could still fall deeper in love with him. Our futures were interrupted, but we were still hopelessly in love. That was both amazing and dangerous.

Shiroe kissed my forehead softly.

“When we get back, why don’t we spend some time alone for a while?”

“That sounds like a great idea, baby.”

Shiroe tilted his head, eyes flicking down to my lips before falling back to my gaze. Everything seemed perfect and for a second I forgot where w were. A deadly thing to do. I knew that, but in the moment it didn’t seem like a problem. It was stupid and reckless.

Before I knew it, there was movement from behind him that I didn’t quite catch. Not until I saw his eyebrows raise and heard the loud humane growl. I yelped loudly, seeing the decomposed face over his shoulder that pulled him backwards. It was like my hands couldn’t move fast enough. They were shaking just as fast as my heart was racing.

When I lifted the gun, Shiroe had already elbowed the thing to the ground. He tried to step away, but another had crawled out from behind the information desk and tugged him by the leg. The first bullet went for the one that grabbed him before, my hand shifting to plunge one deep into the zombies skull.

But then I heard another growl from behind me.

I staggered backwards, spinning around to see yet another not too far away from me. It lumped forward rather quickly, clawing towards me with its mouth hanging open. Shiroe’s grunts could be heard in my ear almost like it was right there. But he was already in the distance trying to fight the thing off.

The sound of the gun going off was going to alert more. But I had nothing else to fight with. I hoped that Akatsuki and Naotsugu would hear it and come running. But that was wishful thinking. And right now I didn’t have enough time to wish.

My finger pulled the trigger, watching the zombie fall to the floor. I didn’t waste any time to spin on my heels, shuffling towards the direction I heard Shiroe.

“Shiroe!” I screamed after him, my eyes darting around the darkened hallway.

I screamed his name over and over, tears clouding my eyes rather quickly. I was so scared and terrified. There was several worries in the back of my mind. Lots of what ifs that I couldn’t imagine. All I wanted was to see him when I turned the corner. Not the blood that seemed to trail, leading met to a body resting against the wall.

All of my fears seemed to punch me in the gut. I felt the instant regret through misty eyes and a flutter of a heartbeat. All the things that I should have done. The things I could have done. But that all melted away when I found the end of the trail and saw the face at the end.

It was all my fault.