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grace-writes-shit · 10 months

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I Found You (Bucky Barnes X Rogers!Reader)

Words: 4.1k

Warnings/Themes: Angst! Character death, abduction, torture, human experimentation, allusions to PTSD, depression, thoughts of wanting to be unalived

Characters/Pairings: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader, Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter (Mentioned), Howling Commandos (Mentioned)

misspygmypie asked:

Hello 🥰 I saw your request post and figured I'd send something in. I've had this idea for years, and it would be fun to read it!

You know when Steve finds and rescues Bucky at Hydra in the first movie? What if it's reader who they're rescuing and Hydra did some experiments on. Maybe she's Steves sister and they wanted to get to him through her and obviously Bucky has a thing for her lol 🥰

A/N: Sincerest apologies for taking so long to get this up. I've been taking on extra duties at work since my partner got fired and things have been super crazy since it's end of quarter. it also hasn't been the best for my mental health, so writing had been a struggle. probably why this ended up being so dang angsty. Sorry. Adulting seriously sucks. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Rain pattered gently on the canvas walls of the medical tent, while boots splashed noisily in the mud it created. Outside of the tent, she could hear the daily drills going on, soldiers training, and officers shouting commands. Her own fellow nurses milled about the tent, tending to wounded soldiers or doing other daily chores. It was a quiet day for the 107th Infantry Regiment.

“Alright, Private Richards, try not to go sticking your hand into random holes again. I doubt the next rabbit will be so kind.” Nimble fingers began tidying up the bloodied cotton balls and gauze used to clean and wrap the boy’s hand. 18 years old, you would think he’d know better than to stick his hand in holes in the ground.

“Yes, First Lieutenant, ma’am…” The boy grabbed his jacket and sulked out of the med tent. She laughed to herself as she watched him go. Knowing him, he’d be back soon enough. Not unlike his Sergeant, who wandered in a few moments later, a lazy smirk on his lips.

James Buchanan Barnes. Or as she’s known for most of her life, Bucky. The charming Sergeant was her older brother’s best friend, having been around since she was small. They were all thick as thieves, hardly seen without one of the others.

It may or may not have been a blessing to constantly have Bucky around. He was kind, funny, and took good care of her and her brother. However, other boys and men didn’t seem too eager to get to know her with him hanging at her shoulder. It’s even worse now with Steve being triple the size he was a year ago.

Occasionally, a brave soul will strike up the nerve to enter the medical tent and ask her out to the nearest town for a drink and a dance. But Bucky had uncanny timing. He always popped up just as she was about to answer.

“Now, a pretty face like that shouldn’t look so angry.” A voice sounded in her ear. A startled gasp escaped her and her hands fumbled the tools she had been organizing. Bucky caught a pair of forceps before they could hit the floor.

“James! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” She admonished him with a firm smack on the shoulder. He chuckled and rubbed the sore spot.

“Ow, careful there, doll. Gonna take my arm off with that strength.”

“Oh please, it’ll take a lot more than that to get rid of you.” She spun out of his reach when he tried to grab her arm. A small smile graced her lips as she made a final spin to face him. “Did you need something, Bucky?”

“What, I can’t come see my best girl just because I want to?

“I know your troop is supposed to be running the course right now, so no you can’t just come see me because you want to,” she said while gesturing for him to sit on the cot in the corner or her station. “Now, what mess did you get yourself into to be sent here?”

“You know me so well, Darlin’,” he whispered wistfully, smiling up at her with those big blues. He wore a dopey smile as he presented his cut left hand. She pursed her lips and tried to fight the blush rising to her cheeks. Damn him.

Stepping closer, she took his calloused hand into her softer one and observed the cut. It wasn’t too deep but still needed to be cleaned and dressed.

“What happened?” She remained in between his legs as she prepped some alcohol and gauze. His right hand toyed with the fabric of her skirt. With a narrowed look, she smacked the back of it.

“Just a climbing exercise; a nail was sticking out of the wall and caught my hand.” His voice was hushed as she worked. She hummed and began cleaning the wound. He hissed and jerked his hand back. With eyes rolling, the nurse grabbed his hand more firmly.

“You big baby.”

“Your big baby.” She smacked his arm again.

<><>

Gunshots fired all around her, men shouting and screaming. Some in pain, some as a battle cry. But all she could think about was how gentle Bucky’s hands had been in hers. And how much she wished it was his hands on her right now.

But larger, rougher hands now tore at her. Pushing and pulling. She screamed from behind her gag and her hands strained against the restraints. Black boots kicked out at her captors as she fought like a feral cat. She twisted this way and that, anything to loosen their grip on her. But against four burly men, she didn’t stand a chance.

She guessed they had gotten tired of her struggling because a blunt weapon struck the back of her head and she fell limp to the ground.

It was cold. Colder than she had ever been. The air was damp, making the ache in her lungs worse. Blurry eyes peeled open. The room she sat in was dark, only a green-tinted light on the other side of the room illuminated the space. Its murky light cast deep shadows around the room that seemed to move. Her head lolled to the side as one shadow moved closer.

Ah, not shadows. Men. Hydra.

“Good evening, Miss Rogers.” His voice was heavily accented and polite. Nothing like what you’d imagine a torturer or murderer to sound like. “I am honored to have Captain America’s sister as my guest.”

She groaned. The gag was no longer wrapped around her mouth, but her tongue felt like lead. Thoughts struggled to focus and grasp what this man was saying.

“Such a shame, a First Lieutenant, Chief Nurse, so much promise in your future. But because of your brother, you’ll never get to meet that future. We have another one much better suited for you.”

His words floated through her mind but didn’t stick. She was a nurse… She helps people. Why was she here? There were soldiers at camp that needed her. Bucky needed her…

“..ucky…” She slurred, drool dribbling from the corner of her mouth. Her bones felt heavier than lead and her muscles were like the slop served at breakfast. The shadows at the edge of her vision danced ever closer.

“Don’t worry, my dear, you’ll forget the pain soon.”

<><>

Bucky tore through the camp, Steve hot on his heels. His blue eyes roved over the multitude of bodies and injured, searching for that familiar head of hair. Always done up so prettily. Like last week when she was bandaging up his hand. Her nails were painted red, and her hair was twisted up into a flawless bun. Her red-painted lips smiled warmly at him. Fear gripped his heart at the idea that he would never see that smile again.

“Bucky, stop!” Steve clamped a hand on his best friend’s shoulder, forcing the Sergeant to a stop. It wouldn’t do his sister any good if they lost their heads. As much as he wanted to tear the whole world apart until his sister was safe, he knew that reckless actions could get her killed. If she wasn’t dead already…

“She’s – she’s gone, Steve. Where is she!?” Bucky spun to face Steve, his eyes wide and slightly crazed. He can’t lose her. He never got to take her on a date. Never got to hold her close and confess how deeply and fervently he love her. Bucky bit down on his lip to stop its wobble. He can’t cry, not yet. Not while there’s still a possibility she’s out there.

“I know. I know, Buck. We’ll get her back. No matter what.”

Footsteps rushed up to the pair. A soldier stopped in front of them, slightly out of breath. “A-a letter for you, sir. It-it has the hydra insignia.”

Upon reading the contents, Steve and Bucky took off to Colonel Phillips' tent. The older man sat at a desk, signing letters to the families of the deceased and missing. Steve hardly gave the man time to put his pen down before requesting a team to rescue the captured. He decided to leave out the fact that he was only doing this to get his sister back.

“I understand the heroic need to save the day, but those who have been taken prisoner are far behind enemy lines and we don’t have the manpower or resources to conduct a rescue mission.” Phillips’ response was expected, but it didn’t stop Bucky’s jaw from clenching or his hands from balling into fists.

The Colonel looked at the two young men standing in front of him. He knew exactly why they wanted to go. Only a fool would think that Captain America wouldn’t move heaven and earth for the younger Rogers. An even bigger fool wouldn’t see the lovesick look every time James Barnes was near her, or the way his gaze follows her as she walks across the base.

Phillips sighed heavily, digging through a stack of letters yet to be signed. First Lieutenant Y/N Rogers. MIA.

Steve took the letter with shaking hands. Bucky felt a tear roll down his cheek.

They were dismissed and the two trudged away. A silent look was exchanged and they agreed. They would go after her with or without permission.

<><>

“…name… Rogers…” Chapped lips mumbled her name over and over again. A tired mind determined to hold on to herself. Don’t forget. Don’t forget. “…Y/N… Rogers…”

“Y/N?” A voice hissed.

“Y/N/N?” A different voice, closer this time.

“Steve! She’s here!” The buckles around her wrists and ankles fell off one by one. Warm, calloused hands that she dreamed about cupped her face. She groaned and willed the fog from her brain. These hands. Bucky’s hands.

“Buck…” She croaked, red lipstick smudged, and once pristine hair hanging limply around her face. His smile brightened the shadows in her vision. Steve had joined them and helped her sit up.

“Hey, doll. What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” Giving her a watery smile, he pushed the hair from her face. The cheap line earned him a weak chuckle.

“Oh, what any girl does in a place like this,” she responded. Together, the two men helped her to her feet. The room pitched suddenly, her legs giving out under her. Whatever they had given her made her legs weak.

“Guess you make me a little weak in the knees,” she joked as Bucky swept her into his arms. She tucked her head into his neck, leaning heavily into him. Steve carefully led the way out, checking around corners and taking out any enemy soldiers that they crossed paths with.

Eventually, the trio made it out of the now-burning building. A mass of freed soldiers met them and together the company fought their way back to their camp. Bucky cradled her close to his chest the entire time. He stuck close to Steve, letting him take the punches. Steve didn’t mind.

For almost two weeks she was laid up in a cot in the medical tent. It was strange, in the years that she had been an army nurse, she had been the one giving care. She had never been the patient. And the patient of her subordinates, no less.

Her closer friends teased her that she was a horrible patient. Their teasing helped ease the residual anxiety and adrenaline from her ordeal. But what had really helped, was Bucky’s constant presence. During meal time and recreation time, he would come to visit her in the medical tent. Steve would drop by as well, but it was mostly Bucky.

As the days passed, Bucky seemed more and more nervous, however. Like he had something to say, just on the tip of his tongue. Sometimes, when he maybe thought she wasn’t looking, she caught him looking guilty. She hoped beyond hope that he didn’t blame himself for what had happened.

“You’re cleared to return to light duty, First Lieutenant,” Second Lieutenant Fredricks said with a smile.

The first few days of light duty were spent organizing and assisting. Then after a week, she was cleared to begin training again. Nurses didn’t necessarily need to do the drills the men did, but it didn’t mean they couldn’t. She also preferred to stay in shape and to keep her skills from going rusty.

Growing up with her brother being bullied, Y/N learned how to defend not only herself but Steve, as well. The elder Rogers sibling didn’t care for her fighting but he did appreciate that in a pinch, she could defend herself.

In the early morning, dressed in a pair of trousers and a simple shirt, Y/N makes her way to the track. A run should be light enough.

She could make out the tall frames of Steve and Bucky amongst the other men getting ready for their morning run. Bucky smiled as she approached.

“Hey, how’s it going? You sure you’re okay to be running?” Bucky brushed his hand over hers when she stopped in front of him. The touch made her stomach flutter but she smiled confidently at him.

“Actually, I’ve never felt better. I’m tired of being cooped up in the med tent for so long.” She bent to tighten her boots’ laces. Bucky shrugged and patted her shoulder, teasingly telling her to not fall behind. She scoffed and took off after the troops in a light jog.

Steve and Bucky kept pace with her, both worrying she might become too tired and collapse. Their hovering and not-so-subtle glances did not go unnoticed by her. Irritation settled quickly in her bones. She wasn’t some fragile flower. Just because something bad happened to her doesn’t mean she going to break at any moment.

Spurred by anger, her legs moved faster on their own accord. Steve glanced at his best friend as they sped up to match. Soon, the three of them were overtaking the other troops. Bucky was breathing heavily as they passed the frontman, now in a full sprint.

“W-wait!” He panted as the two Rogers siblings were now racing down the path. How was she running that fast!? How wasn’t she tired? Her smaller frame broke past Steve, who was now struggling to keep up.

The younger Rogers didn’t even notice the concerned and shocked looks she was receiving. The wind rushing in her ears and the trees blurring in her vision was all she could focus on. She felt like she was flying; her feet barely touching the ground. She felt free.

She burst into the clearing at the end of their running trail, the morning sun warming her wind-chilled skin. The grass kicked up as she skidded to a halt. A laugh erupted from her, her head light with adrenaline and awe. Then reality sunk in.

Bucky and Steve broke through the tree line a few minutes later.

“Y/N!”

She turned to look at them, her brows scrunched together and lips forming a thin line.

“They did this to me…” She murmured, gazing turning down at her clenched fists. She had thought she was feeling so good because she survived Hydra’s torment. How quickly this revelation brought her down. They poked and prodded, injected, and dissected. They had changed her.

“Doll?” Bucky approached her slowly, hands out in front of him. Seeing her lip wobble had his heart shattering in him. Throwing caution to the wind, he wrapped his arms around her. She buried her face in his chest, drowning her sobs in the rough fabric of his shirt. Her brother stood beside them, rubbing his hand over her shoulders.

“I’ve got ya, sweets. I got ya,” Bucky muttered into her hair. “We’re gonna figure this out. It’ll be okay.”

Lord, he hoped he was telling the truth.

<><>

Months went by as she adjusted to her new abilities. After she discovered her inhuman speed, she quickly learned she was inhumanly strong. Not as strong as her brother, but definitely stronger than any other man in the camp.

She began training with the men, easily laying anyone flat during sparring. Even Steve struggled against her. While he surpassed her in strength, she made it up in speed and agility. She had been given the moniker of Lady Liberty once the higher-ups found out.

But despite the usefulness of these abilities. She couldn’t help but feel violated. Every night she woke up in a cold sweat, dreaming of their cold instruments and icy laughter. More than once she ended up in the clearing from months before.

Each time she made it out there, Bucky wasn’t far behind. He held her as he had back then, whispering comforting words and stroking her hair. This night began no differently than the others. They sat in the middle of the clearing, the half-moon illuminated above their heads.

“I’m sorry, Bucky… You don’t have to come out here with me every night.” She sniffled, wiping her tears from her cheeks. She was settled in between his stretched-out legs, her own draped over one of his thighs. He shook his head and sighed.

“I don’t mind, Doll. Really.” Soft lips pressed against her temple. “Unless you tell me to go, I won’t leave your side. I can’t.”

Shining eyes looked up into his baby blues. She had never felt so safe and protected as she did in Bucky’s arms. Even though she could easily kick his butt in a fight, she knew he would fight tooth and nail for her. And she would burn down the world for him.

There was no doubt in her mind as she pressed her lips to his. He sighed against her as he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer by the waist. Everything clicked into place with this kiss. They had been dancing around this thing between them for years, neither willing to take the leap and possibly lose what they already had.

But the feeling of her lips on his, the taste of her on his tongue had him bitterly regretting not doing this sooner. How many kisses could they have had? How many dates and late nights have they missed? He sure had a lot of time to make up.

“I love you, Y/N.” His breath fanned across the skin of her neck as his kiss-swollen lips brushed along it.

“I love you, James.”

<><>

Over the next two years, the Howling Commandos slowly but surely made their way through the Hydra bases. First Lieutenant Rogers led alongside her brother, Captain Rogers. Not only as extra muscle, but as a nurse, and occasionally, spy. Bucky didn’t like the idea of his girl being ogled by slimy nazi men, but she convinced him that no one would expect a woman to be a super soldier.

She would infiltrate their meetings as a piece of eye candy, acquiring information as needed and then arresting the men as she saw fit.

But this particular mission didn’t require revealing dresses or sultry makeup. Rather, she wore a winter coat and combat boot with reinforced soles. The speed that she ran quickly ate through nearly all of her shoes.

The Commandos were all situated on a cliff overlooking another with a set of train tracks. They were waiting on the train carrying Doctor Zola. Glove-covered hands clenched at her side. Doctor Zola. One of the men who had turned her into this. Turned her into a weapon.

Bucky’s heavy hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her to his side. His soft lips brushed against her temple.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he reassured. “We go in, kick some ass, and then get out. Easy.”

She chuckled and pressed a kiss to his waiting lips. The other men had the decency to look away from the couple.

“Alright, lovebirds, let’s get a move on.” Steve’s voice called out from the edge of the cliff.

She scoffed at her brother and kissed her sergeant once more. “See you on the other side, tiger.”

<><>

Things were going south very quickly. Hydra had more gun power than she had thought. A huge man with bigger guns than himself stood in the doorway to their car. His guns glowed blue as they powered up.

Steve shoved both his sister and Bucky behind him, holding up his shield. The blast had her teeth rattling in her skull, her body flying back further than the boys. The impact of her head hitting the metal floor caused stars to dance in her vision.

She could barely comprehend the cold rush of air from the massive hole in the side of the train. And before she could gather herself, the man was priming another shot, pointed directly at her. Shaking legs tried to bare her weight as she scrambled for her gun.

Bucky had gathered himself faster than her or her brother, so she could only watch as he picked up Steve’s shield and fired a few shots at the enemy. A scream ripped from her throat when blue light shot out at her sergeant.

Bucky went flying, the shield in the other direction. Both the Rogers siblings jumped into action. Steve went for the shield, quickly taking out the other man. She leaped for the hole in the wall of the train that Bucky had flown out of.

Her eyes widened with horror as she gazed upon the man she loved, hanging on for dear life to the crumbling handrails.

“Bucky! Hold on!” She reached out to him, trying to find her footing to get to him and pull him to safety. The look in his eyes was one she had never seen on him before. Blue eyes wide with fear, his mouth poised in a silent scream. And as his fingers brushed against hers, tips barely able to curl around each other, he was gone.

His scream was joined by hers. The image of him falling to his death will forever be ingrained in her mind. It’ll be the last thing on her mind as she goes to sleep and the first one when she wakes up. It’ll be there when she fights her way through Hydra soldiers, and as she sends her fist straight into Johann Schmidt’s ugly, red face.

Steve worried about his sister’s mental health since that day. She had retreated into herself. Long gone was the witty and strong woman he knew. His sister, who had always been so bright, had been replaced by someone who only knew how to fight.

She only spoke to give orders or to communicate during battle. Her words were always clipped and to the point; no room for banter or sarcasm. The icy wall she had built around herself was all to conceal the torment her mind tortured her with.

If only she had been stronger, maybe she wouldn’t have been down for so long. If she had been faster, she could have reached him before he fell. If she had been better, maybe he wouldn’t have died. Every moment was filled with these thoughts. Awake or not. It was all she could think about.

Eventually, she became too tired. She fought with everything she had; Bucky at least deserved that. She wouldn’t give up simply because it would mean he died in vain. However, with each new opponent, she could help but wish that this one would be stronger than her.

No opponent was ever stronger than her. Until now.

It wasn’t a person that she now faced her death with. But a plane filled with explosives. Schmidt was gone, as was the Tesseract. Now, she and her brother faced the cracked windows of the plane. She tried to keep her lip from trembling as Steve spoke with Peggy.

Even if she hadn’t gotten her happy ending, she had wished her big brother would have gotten his. Tear-filled eyes opened when she felt a hand come to rest on hers. Steve’s face was solemn as he spoke.

“I’ve gotta put it in the water.” He was half telling Peggy and half asking for permission from his sister. It wasn’t just his life going down for millions of others, but his little sister’s, too. The siblings shared a weighty look before she nodded.

Lady Liberty listened quietly as Captain America spoke with Agent Carter. No.

Y/N listened brokenheartedly as her big brother said his goodbyes to the woman he loved and who loved him in return.

And as Steve redirected the plane to the icy terrain below, she closed her eyes and imagined the warm hands of her love. His blue fire eyes and easy grin. The feel of his lips against hers. The sound of her name on his tongue.

I’m coming, Bucky.

#my writing #grace writes shit #reader insert #request #angst #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #avenger x reader #tw: mental health #tw: self loathing #tw: depression #tw: ptsd

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crystalninjaphoenix · 3 years

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Wyvernlair

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Three

A JSE Fanfic

Ta-da! Another chapter! :D This is the one I was talking about, with a lot of worldbuilding and new characters. It’s also one of my longer stories, and I had to cut out a scene near the end, but don’t worry, you’ll see that next time. Now that Chase is officially part of the Masked Phantoms, it’s time for him to get to know the layout of Wyvernlair, meet new people, and learn new things. So get ready for a whole lot of all that. Hope you guys enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was clear that Jackie was eager to have someone new to show around Wyvernlair. He led the way, pointing out important features of the camp. Most of the center area was taken up by tents for people to stay in. In addition, there was an area dedicated to cooking, with campfires and stacks of pots and dishes, a wide, clear area for people to practice sword fighting and other combat, and a large space for storage.

All this was fairly normal for any camp. Or at least, that’s what Chase figured, considering he’d never been in a camp of any kind. But he was pretty sure that the massive skeleton made Wyvernlair much different than any other camp. Every bit had been planned around the bones embedded in the ground. The tents were encircled by the dragon. The cooking fires were dotted around the leg bones. The combat field was spread out along the wings that extended out from the rest of the body. And the storage was inside the oversized ribcage, canvas stretched over the gaps to keep out the weather.

Inside the ribs was the most incredible place Chase had ever been. He kept his head craned upward, following the curve of the ivory bones, each one big enough that it would take three full grown men to encircle it. The storage inside the ribcage was much less impressive in comparison, though he did have to admit he’d never seen this amount of weapons, armor, parchment, and foodstuffs in one place. Not to mention all the miscellaneous items as well, like lanterns and chests for storage.

“Oh, you need a jacket!” Jackie suddenly said, bringing Chase back to the conversation. “You can take one of the communal ones, over here.” He grabbed Chase’s hand and pulled him to the side of the ribs, where the chests were full of various clothing, each labeled with types and sizes. “Unless you’re a cloak person?”

“Uh, no, I...jackets are good,” Chase said dazedly.

“Great! What are you, a five?” Jackie waited for Chase to nod, then headed over to the appropriate chest. “We don’t have that many fives left...a lot of people have measurements around there.” He flipped open the chest lid. “Um...yeah, there’s just one. Hope you like yellow.” After a bit of rummaging, he pulled out a dull flaxen jacket and tossed it in Chase’s direction.

Chase fumbled for a bit before catching it. It was a fairly normal jacket, and he quickly pulled it on. Autumn in the mountains was not a time to walk around without one. He’d been chilly all through their walk.

“Alright, all that’s left is the skull,” Jackie said. “I don’t know how often you’ll be in there, but it’s good to—”

“I’m sorry, I’m still caught up on the fact that I’m inside a dragon skeleton,” Chase interrupted.

Henrik, who’d been following the tour quietly and letting Jackie do all the talking, suddenly burst into laughter. “I told you. It is shocking, isn’t it?”

“Well...yes!” Chase looked back up at the curve of the ribs above him, slowly shaking his head. “I heard dragons were large, but I didn’t really...picture it, before this.”

“Technically, this is not the skeleton of a full-blooded great dragon,” Henrik said.

“What?”

“The dragon that most people think of, with four legs and two or more wings? That is a great dragon,” Henrik explained. “I’m sure you noticed this one only has two legs; it was likely a wyvern/great dragon crossbreed.”

“Hence the name ‘Wyvernlair,’” Jackie added.

“What’s the difference?” Chase asked.

“Wyverns only had two legs and larger wings. They walked a bit like birds do,” Henrik continued. “And they were usually much smaller. There are some accounts of humans riding them. So this was either an abnormally large wyvern, or it was a crossbreed with the great dragons. Which, yes, could grow as big as this, but that was not so common.”

“Elders,” Chase muttered. The fact that there were once creatures as large as this roaming the land, big enough to encircle half a town...it made him glad they weren’t around anymore.

“It was really lucky that we found this place,” Jackie said. “Not because of the skeleton, but because of its location. There are no trees growing near the bones, so we have room to spread out, and we have our backs to a rock wall, which makes it more defensible.” He paused. “Anyway, the last part on our tour is the skull, and then we can set you up with a tent. Oh, actually, the spare tents are kept here. Let’s grab that now.”

“I get my own?” Chase said, surprised.

“Of course, we have plenty to spare,” Jackie said casually. “We brought a whole bunch up, but recruitment has been slow.”

“Nonexistent,” Henrik muttered. He reached into one of his belt pouches and took out a small flask, taking a quick drink.

“Well...yes,” Jackie admitted. “But let’s go, we’re almost done!”

The skull was just as massive as the rest of the skeleton, with wicked sharp teeth as tall as Chase. He stared at them as Jackie and Henrik led him around to the back, where there was a slight gap where the skull met the spine. They passed through that gap and ended up inside. Much like the ribs, the skull had been converted into a room, with canvas blocking the eye sockets and nasal cavity to make a rough roof. This wasn’t as large as the storage, but it was still at least three times as large as Chase’s cottage. There were more chests in here, and a few rickety desks where people—masks always nearby—sat, reading and writing on parchment. They all glanced up as the three men entered the room, then looked away.

In the middle of the skull was a large circular table, made of solid, dark wood and surrounded by chairs. Various maps were spread out on the surface of the table, held down with weights.

Chase glanced at the largest map, and immediately recognized it as a map of the kingdom of Glasúil. A detailed one, too, covering almost all of the island. The Dragon’s Teeth mountains ran down the center, with the smaller Northaven range branching off to the east, along the northern shore. The Southern Moors were present, slowly merging into the sea. Rivers and forests he’d never heard of crossed the parchment, and each major town and city was represented by a labeled black dot. The only part of the map left blank was the area to the west of the Dragon’s Teeth, which simply had “Wyldwood” written across it.

“Oh hey, you like the maps?” Jackie asked, noticing Chase’s attention. “We use those for planning stuff. A lot of strategy and meetings happen here. This is also where we keep all our records and sort through all our messages with other Phantom locations. Since you’re part of the group now, you’ll eventually go on missions, and if that’s the case, you’ll have to write a report and deliver it here.”

“Missions?” Chase repeated. His head was starting to swim a bit with all the new information.

“Well, if you want to,” Jackie said awkwardly. “I mean, you could stay here and do medicine with Henrik, or be part of our administration—”

“Administration?” This time, Chase laughed a bit when he repeated the word.

“Organization is very important,” Schneep emphasized. “There are a lot of us, and we do a lot of things. If we have no organization then we do not know what we’re doing!”

“Yeah, and those things we do are...missions,” Jackie said.

“Alright, what kind of...missions?” Chase asked.

“Depends. We might need to investigate someplace, or something, or someone. We might need to go in and stop an act of injustice, or rescue people who’ve been hurt.” Jackie paused. “If...if we’d heard about the King’s plans for the mountain villages to burn, then we could have...shown up. In time.”

Chase felt his stomach twist at the mention of the burning villages. There was guilt in Jackie’s voice; he clearly felt awful that the Phantoms couldn’t do anything to prevent that. “Well.” Chase took a deep breath. “I guess we’ll have to make sure things like that don’t happen again.”

Jackie nodded. Henrik placed a hand on his shoulder, and that seemed to steady him. He drew himself to his full height and stiffened his posture. “Exactly. The King may think he can get away with any of this, just because of his position. But the people will not stand for it. We will not stand for it. As long as his actions cause death and damage, we will work to remove him.”

For a moment, Chase was in awe at the resolve Jackie showed. He wasn’t that physically intimidating, being almost a head shorter than Chase and a head and a half shorter than Henrik, but he had a commanding aura. Maybe the strength of his conviction was catching. “Exactly,” Chase said. “That’s—that’s what I want to do.” His simple statement sounded lame in comparison.

Jackie smiled. “And that’s why we’re so glad to have you.” He relaxed a bit, looking over at Henrik. “And if Schneep likes you, then I do, too.”

Chase couldn’t hold back a laugh. “I-I’m sorry? What did you call him?”

Henrik’s expression fell. He took his hand off Jackie’s shoulder and pushed him with his shoulder. “I told you, stop using that.”

“But it’s so fun to say,” Jackie said cheerfully. “Chase, did you know that Henrik’s surname is Schneeplestein?”

Chase fought to stifle his giggles. Now he remembered that particular fact from his first meeting with Henrik. “That’s—well, I’m sure that’s a usual surname in Alterde—”

“It is not,” Henrik said wearily. “It sounds just as ridiculous over there. Go ahead, laugh about it. Get it out of your mind now.”

“No no, I’m fine, I promise.” Chase coughed a bit, clearing his throat of laughter. “At least you have a surname.”

“Ah, it is common to have one where I am from,” Henrik waved away the comment. “I know here it is a nobility thing, but not in Alterde or its neighbors.”

“Really?” Chase said, interested.

“Really. And it is much easier than your family names,” Henrik said bluntly, turning to leave.

“Hey! Wait for us!” Jackie took Chase’s hand and the two of them followed Henrik out of the dragon’s skull.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Chase? Are you awake?”

The first thing Chase heard when waking up was someone calling his voice. Instinctively, he rolled over and stretched his arm to the right. Only to be met with nothing but empty space. Oh. Right.

He opened his eyes to a canvas wall and ceiling. He’d gotten his tent yesterday, and Jackie had shown him how to set it up in a spot near the dragon spine. From there, the rest of the day had passed slowly. Awkwardly, too, as Chase didn’t feel up to approaching any of the masked people who were part of the Phantoms. It felt...strange. Like he was constantly intruding on something. So he just spent time in his tent, and when dinnertime rolled around, he showed up to get some stew from the cooking fires then went off to eat on his own. Eventually, the sun set, and he figured that was time to go to bed.

“Chase?” The voice called again.

“Henrik?” Chase asked, sitting up and wiggling out of the bedroll he’d been given.

“Oh, you are awake. Can I open the flap?”

“Go ahead.” It wasn’t like he was indecent or anything. He was actually still wearing his clothes from the day before. Maybe he should check out the storage, see if they had anything else he could use.

Henrik pushed open the flap of the tent and ducked inside, pushing his owl mask up onto his forehead. “Ah, good. I have something for you.” He held out a folded piece of parchment.

Puzzled, Chase took it. “What is this?” He asked as he unfolded it.

“Well, now that you are a Phantom, there are some things you need to be familiar with,” Henrik said. “Jackie put together a schedule for you for today.”

Chase silently looked at the words. He blinked. Then squinted. Then looked back up at Henrik. “Um...I’m sorry, but I...can’t read this.”

Henrik didn’t even have a response for that. “You...cannot read?”

“I can, but only a little,” Chase admitted. “I know the alphabet and numbers, but as for words, I can read what I’m familiar with. Food, animal names, archery gear. Things like that.” He trailed off into a mumble, somehow embarrassed. Reading had never been an issue before. Everyone in town knew enough to get by. But now, he wondered...was that not normal?

“That’s okay,” Henrik said, picking up on Chase’s tone. “Jackie was the same way. We had to teach him.” He chuckled a bit at the memory. “I will explain, then. After breakfast, you will meet with Nemet in the infirmary, she will give you a basic medicine check. To see what you know and fill you in on anything you need. Then you will head down to the tip of the tail, and meet a man there called Tripp. I understand you do not know that much about magic, so he will give you an overview. Then there will be lunch, and then you will head to the combat field to start training with Holly and Lukas.”

Chase started. “What was that last name?”

“Lukas,” Henrik repeated. “You will probably be working with him more, since you seem inclined with bows, and not closer combat.”

“Right.” Chase nodded. That name sounded familiar, like he’d heard it recently...

“Then come back for dinner, and I will check up on you,” Henrik continued. “And by then, hopefully you will know what you want to do most in the group. Medicine, organization, and such. And we will get you a temporary mask.”

“So, why masks?” Chase asked. “I like the idea, but...why? Who came up with it?”

“Oh, the mask concept was Jackie’s idea, but the animal part was added by—by someone else,” Henrik said. There was an odd pause there...was he going to say something else? A name, perhaps? “We wear masks so people will not recognize us. Many of us have friends and family who would be at risk if the King’s people knew we were working against him. Like, for me. You know I am a traveling doctor, yes? Well, when I met you last year, I was already working with the Phantoms. Can you imagine what would happen if someone recognized me as a rebel?”

Chase shivered. “Yea, I can.” If the King was willing to burn down the mountain villages for an unknown reason, what would he do to find one of the rebels? With that thought in mind, he slowly stood up. “So...I’ll get started, then. Meeting with all these strangers.”

“Do not be nervous, Chase,” Henrik said gently. “Everyone new we find has to go through something like this. And these are some of our best people.”

“Thanks,” Chase said. “That’s good to know.” Still, his stomach was slowly tying itself in knots as he headed towards the cooking fires, about to start the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a quick breakfast of toasted bread—light, but with those stomach knots, still hard to get through—Chase headed up the gentle slope towards the infirmary cave in the rock wall. Slipping through the flap in the canvas, he found it unchanged from the day before, when he’d been discharged. Nobody was inside, except for...

“Ibis?” Chase asked.

“Hello, Chase.” Ibis smiled at him. Her mask was off, revealing her features and round, dark eyes for the first time. “It’s good to see you again. And please, my name is Nemet.”

“Oh! Oh, I’m supposed to meet with you.” That explained why she was standing near the entrance, she was waiting for him.

“Yes, yes.” Nemet nodded. “Henrik has told me to give you a basics in medicine.” She turned and headed towards the back, indicating he should follow. “Come, come. This shouldn’t take too long.”

Nemet had set three chests on top of each other, making a sort of rough chest-height table. On top of the flat surface of the chest-table were a series of bottles and bags, each one neatly labeled. “Here. These are some of our common tonics and medicines we use here. Tell me what you recognize.”

Chase considered the layout before him. There were probably about thirty in total, if he had to guess. “This is for colds, right? And fevers? And this one, too. And these dried leaves, they’re for nausea. Oh, and this will put you to sleep if you put it in water or stew. This is a salve, also for fevers. And this is a balm for sores. And this will stop infection on cuts and scrapes. And...that’s what I know.”

“Impressive,” Nemet nodded.

“Really? That’s only a fraction of the total,” Chase said doubtfully.

“Most people who join up only know redleaf, bainruish, and seedbane.” Nemet indicated each medicine as she listed them. “Fevers, cuts, and...well, I’m sure you know what seedbane is for, even if you said nothing. You are married, after all.” She laughed as Chase slowly turned red. “Ah, my apologies. The point is, you are ahead of most others.”

“Do we really need all of these?” Chase asked, quickly moving on.

“Oh, yes. You know that when people gather together that sicknesses spread easily. Many of these will help to cure a specific disease, while others are a general tonic, like redleaf.” Nemet paused, then picked up about ten of the medicines and put them on the floor. “Henrik says you are not so much caught up on magic, so we will leave these ones out of our discussion for now.”

Chase started at that. The concept of mixing medicine with magic made him...uneasy. He may not know that much about magic, but he knew it could be dangerous. “I was wondering, Nemet, what did you do before you joined the Phantoms? I know Henrik’s a traveling doctor, are you the same?”

“Not exactly.” Nemet shrugged. “I was a student of medicine back home.”

“And where was that?”

“A land called Kha’Nyphthis.” Nemet grinned a bit at Chase’s confused expression. “You would not have heard of it. It is to the south, on another continent, but not the same continent as Henrik’s Alterde. We have great schools and libraries there, the best in the world. I was learning to become a doctor, and had almost finished my schooling, but one of the final requirements was to learn the medicine of another land. I chose here, Glasúil, because you are well-known for your medicine. But then I arrived, and saw the state of things, and...ah, well.” Her expression fell for a moment.

“I’m...sorry,” Chase said awkwardly. “Do you...ever think about going back?”

Nemet nodded briefly. “Of course. I have family, friends. But I cannot just abandon things. It’s not in my nature to leave things unsettled.” She took a deep breath, and moved on. “But as for your basics in medicine, let me start by getting you familiar with the ones you didn’t know.”

It was a while later before Chase left the infirmary, his head feeling stuffed with all the new information Nemet had drilled into him. Already, some of it was starting to slip away. And he immediately knew that he could never be a doctor. If these were the basics, he couldn’t even begin to think about what would be required to complete the training to become one.

But he didn’t have time to let all that new knowledge sink in. Judging by the sun’s position, it was getting close to noon, and to lunch. He still had to meet up with someone else before it was time to eat. So he hurried onward, running along the curve of the dragon’s bones, following them as they got smaller and smaller, until they eventually merged into the packed ground. Chase slowed to a stop and looked around, confused. This was the end of the tail, wasn’t it? So...where was—

“Hey you’re the new one, right?”

Chase yelped and spun around. A man was sitting between the spine bones of the dragon, almost unnoticeable in the shadow between them. “Yeah, that’s me,” he said slowly. “Are you, uh...Tripp?”

The man nodded, hopped to his feet, and walked over to Chase. Standing up, he was short, even shorter than Jackie. He wore a dark brown cloak that reached his knees, and of course, a mask. This one was shaped like a ram’s head, complete with curved horns, and the black symbol on the forehead was actually four different symbols arranged in a diamond formation. After a moment of looking at them, Chase realized they were the suits often used on playing cards. How...odd. The man reached up and took off the mask, ruffling his golden brown hair and revealing dark eyes. “Tripp, son of Seamus,” he said shortly. “And you are...?”

“Chase. Son of Brody,” Chase said automatically. “Henrik told you I was—”

“You’re not up-and-up on magic and need a course, yea,” Tripp interrupted, swinging his mask around his finger. Chase took a step back despite already being far away. If that went flying, those plaster horns would do some damage. “And he asked me to do it ‘cause I’m our second best guy.”

“You’re the—?”

“What do you know already, Brodyson?” Tripp continued. “Ever met a magic-wielder?”

“There were a handful in town—”

“Sorcerer, wizard, enchanter, oracle, witch?”

“I...what?” Chase blinked. “I...think they were all sorcerers.”

“How many?”

“Only a handful, about six or seven?”

“For a village of four hundred or so people?” Tripp laughed. “Everyone must’ve been magically impotent.”

“Could you slow down?!” Chase snapped. “I thought you were supposed to teach me about magic, not make fun of me for not knowing anything!”

Tripp paused. Then grinned. “It’s just banter, Brodyson. I didn’t mean offense. But hey, you called me out. Good on you for that. My apologies.” His grin faded. “But I’m not jokin’ about that. There should’ve been at least four times that number of magic-wielders in a town that size. What happened? Were the seekers bein’ lazy for the past few years?”

“...Seekers?” Chase repeated, puzzled.

Tripp looked up at the sky. “Oh, elders. They haven’t been showin’ up at all, have they? If you don’t even know about them—alright, we’ll start from the beginning, then.” He sat down on the ground, folding his legs under him. Slowly, Chase sat down across from him. “You know of the five branches, right? I’m pretty sure everyone in the world’s at least heard their names.”

“Yes,” Chase said, nodding. Wizards, sorcerers, enchanters, oracles, and witches. He mostly heard about them in stories, and was especially fuzzy on the details about those last three.

“A common mistake people make is thinkin’ these are all different things.” Tripp started drawing in the dirt with his finger. “When really, all magic is the same. It’s like a tree—just because each branch might look different, doesn’t mean they don’t all come from the same trunk.” And, in keeping with that metaphor, he drew a rough outline of a tree with five different branches. “All magics can work with each other, and there’s a lot of similarities in between them. For example, do you know the difference between wizardry and sorcery? They’re the two most well-known of the branches.”

“Um...if I’m being honest, I’d always been under the impression that wizardry was more powerful,” Chase said tentatively.

Tripp snorted in disbelief. “Some wizards would like to think that. But no. More varied, yes. But not more powerful. Here, it’ll be easier if I go over them all one by one.” He started to draw symbols by each of the branches, starting with a crude stick figure. “Sorcery is the most common magic besides witchcraft. It crops up in people at random. If you got twenty-five people in a room together, one would probably be a sorcerer, even if they didn’t know it. Its source is inside the person themself. And what it does is manipulate the world. Like...this.”

He pressed a flat hand against the ground next to him. After a moment, the dirt started to move. Then suddenly, pillars of rock shot through the dirt, rising from underneath the surface. Chase gaped as the solid stone started to twist, winding around each other to form a braid of rock. Then Tripp removed his hand, and the rock froze, as if it had never been moving in the first place. For a moment, Chase was stunned, then he managed to ask, “S-so you’re a sorcerer, then?”

“Exactly,” Tripp grinned. “Why d’you look so surprised? You said you knew sorcerers before.”

“Well...yes, but I hadn’t...seen their magic too much,” Chase admitted. He remembered one time when Gwen, the weaver’s daughter, had pulled water out of the well. It just streamed out of the depths and sailed right into her bucket. But occasions like that were few and far between.

“Hmm.” Tripp scrunched his face up, thinking. “Well, besides that. Each branch of magic has its strengths and weaknesses. Sorcery’s strength is that it comes from within. As long as a sorcerer doesn’t drain too much energy, they can use their magic forever. And its weakness is that you need a material to manipulate. Like just now, I reached down and pulled rock up from underground. But there’s a limit to the range where your magic can affect things.”

Chase nodded. “What about wizardry, then?”

Tripp sketched a rough outline of a necklace next to another branch of the tree. “Its strength is its variety. Wizards aren’t limited by what things are present, they can conjure out of thin air. But its weakness is in this: the ‘focus.’” He tapped the necklace drawing. “Unlike sorcery, wizardry doesn’t come from within. Wizards are channelin’ it from outside, from the layer of magic that coats the world. But to do so, they need a specially-made thing called a focus. It’s usually a necklace, ‘cause that’s handy, but it can be any shape, as long as it’s made the right way. These dragon bones, for example. They’d be real good to make focuses with.” He knocked on the nearest bone. “About one in fifty people are able to channel wizardry.”

“And now we reach the end of my knowledge,” Chase mutters. “What’s the next most common?”

Tripp paused. “Enchantment.” The image he drew in the dirt now was a misshapen lump. “Damn. That’s supposed to be a brain.”

“Ah. Right. Because enchantment is the magic of the mind, isn’t it?” Chase recalled, casting his memories back to the stories he’d heard that included enchanters.

“Hmm. Yea.” Tripp pursed his lips. “How do I explain them...Well, strengths. They’re the only magic that can work with your mind. Illusions, talking in your head, things like that. But as for their weaknesses, enchanters can’t change the world for real.”

“Is it true that enchanters can control your actions?” Chase asked. “There’s a story, the Dark Damoen—”

“The crazy old man who made Erinthold worship him as a god? That’s a famous one.” Tripp nodded. “Well, it’s true. Some could change your thoughts and make you do things you wouldn’t. But that takes a lot of power, and besides, most enchanters are decent people, like all the rest of us. It’s just that we remember the bad ones because they shock us. And only about one in a hundred people are enchanters, anyway. Don’t worry about it. There are a few Masked Phantoms who are enchanters.”

Chase nodded slowly. The thought of the old story sent shivers down his back, but he should probably trust the magic-wielder. He clearly knew more “What about...the oracles?”

Tripp drew a symbol of an eye in the dirt. “Those are the rarest one. You only get an oracle one in a thousand, if you’re lucky, and they’re not usually that powerful. You’ve probably heard that they issue prophecies of what’s to come, or that they might even be able to manipulate time itself. Well that’s all bullshit.”

“Wh—” Chase was so surprised at the frankness that he choked on his own gasp. After a few moments of coughing, he continued in a hoarse voice. “What do you mean?”

“Oracles can’t manipulate time, that’s the most insane rumor goin’ round about magic there ever was,” Tripp stated. “They get visions of what’s most likely to happen. It’s not for sure, and really, most oracles are wrong. But huge strength there, knowing the most likely future. And it comes with a big weakness. A couple, actually. One, they have to speak their visions out loud while it’s happenin’. It’s a magic...what’s the word?” He snapped his fingers for a bit. “Compulsion. That’s it. They’re literally forced to do it, can’t stop that. And two, the visions are all they can do. They have no other magic. And because of that, some say that oracles are cursed, not gifted.”

Chase thought about that. If he had the choice, would he take knowing the future for being forced to share it? Maybe. Maybe if he knew what could happen next, he could stop terrible things. Like...his heart panged, and he shied away from the thought. No, that didn’t sound too bad. People would also know what the future held, what of it? He’d take that risk.

“And the last magic,” Tripp said, snapping Chase out of his thoughts. “Witchcraft. It’s actually the most common.”

“Really?” Chase said doubtfully.

“I bet you’re goin’ by the stories, where witches are old people that stay in shacks and give out potions,” Tripp said, drawing a bottle next to the final branch. “But really, the magic of witchcraft isn’t in people, like all the others. It’s in the land. It’s part of the world’s magic. Plants with strange properties, the parts of magical animals...these can be mixed together to create amazing effects. And anyone could learn how to do it. In fact, most of us here have.”

Chase suddenly remembered earlier, how Nemet had put away some of the medicines during their meeting. It was because he didn’t know much about magic...“Wait, you mean anyone could make potions? Become a witch?”

“Well, not anyone,” Tripp muttered. “If you have magic of your own, you can’t learn witchcraft. The knowledge just slips away, and if we try anyway, nothing works, even if it should. You can’t use more than one magic. It’d be like tryin’ to hold onto every single branch of a tree.”

“If the tree was small, though?” Chase joked.

“It’s not. The magic tree is big, and the branches are the type where you need to hold on with both hands,” Tripp said firmly.

“Oh. I...see.” Chase cleared his throat. Clearly, using more than one magic wasn’t something to make light of. It was too impossible. “And...what about those seekers you mentioned earlier?”

Tripp was eager to move on. “Seekers are wizards that can sense the presence of magic. What’s supposed to happen is that these seekers are supposed to stop by every town twice every year. In practice, that’s faded away. Most towns only see them once a year, and the farther away you get from Suilthair, the less often you’ll see them. My town where I grew up, they came by every three years. But if you don’t know what they are, then...have you ever seen them?”

At that, Chase had a vague memory of a group of strangers visiting Hilltown when he was a child. They were dressed finely, and the image of an elaborate brooch one of them was wearing flashed in his mind. The next day, Hanson, an old friend of his, announced to all the kids that he was going away for ‘special school.’ “Not in years. Long enough for me to forget what they are.”

Tripp huffed. ��I bet it’s not worth the effort to come all the way up here. Bunch of nambies.” He rolled his eyes. “Seekers are employed by the royal family. They find young magic-wielders and offer to give them schoolin’, to learn how to use their magic. Schoolin’ that’s funded by the crowns. It’s not required—I never went—but it’s encouraged. Otherwise you might end up having magic shootin’ out of your—”

“Is that why most wizards side with the King?” Chase asked, remembering what Henrik said about the source of the village fire.

“Part of it. But wizards especially have a reason to keep on the King’s good side.” Tripp paused. “Those focuses I told you ‘bout, that wizards need to use their magic? The crowns fund the makin’ of those, too. And the sellin’. And everything about them.”

“Oh.” Chase’s eyes widened with realization. “So...if a wizard decided to oppose the King, then there’s a chance that...they wouldn’t have access to a focus anymore? And...their magic?”

Tripp nodded. “That’s why most of us magic-wielders in the Phantoms are sorcerers and a few enchanters.”

“No oracles?”

“Oh, elders, no. You heard how hard they are to find. Wish we had some, though. That’d be helpful.” Tripp stretched his arms, then stood up. “Anyway, that’s all I have to say. You got it all?”

“I think so, yes,” Chase said slowly. He looked up to the sky, mentally reviewing everything he’d heard. Sorcery, wizardry, enchantment, oraclulary, and witchcraft. All very different, all with things they could do and limitations that slowed them down. That made sense. He nodded to himself...and then noticed the position of the sun. “Shit!” Chase shot to his feet. “It’s noon! I have—after lunch, I—”

“More meetings, huh?” Tripp raised an eyebrow, then pulled his ram mask back on. “Let me guess...Lukas and Holly? Better hurry, Brodyson. Not good to be late for those two.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chase swung by the cooking fires to grab some food, then hurried over to the combat fields, along the dragon’s wings. Originally, he wondered if the wing bones would get it the way, but apparently the dragon had died with its wings spread out as far as they could be, leaving ample room in between the bones. The packed dirt was lined with targets, crude dummies made of sacks of hay tied to sticks, and racks of wooden training weapons. Occasionally there were random chests or tents set up to create obstacles to fight around. As he ran out onto the fields, he passed many people, some sparring in groups, others practicing on their own. None of them paid him any mind.

Now that he was here, he wasn’t sure where to go. The fields took up all of the space cleared by the wings, which was, as it turned out, quite a lot. Maybe he should have asked Henrik for descriptions of the people he’d be meeting with. Feeling his nerves eating away at his stomach, he turned to the nearest person, and asked, quietly, “Excuse me, I’m looking for Lukas and Holly?”

The person turned around, looked down at him, and smiled. “Oh, it’s you! You’re the new one!”

“Um...yes,” Chase said slowly. It was just now occurring to him how...big this person was—this woman was, actually, judging by her voice. She towered over him, and her sleeveless tunic showed off the muscles of her tattooed arms. Strange to be wearing no sleeves in the chill mountain air, but she probably wasn’t bothered.

“I’m Holly.” Her smile widened. “Daughter of Rose.”

“Oh!” Chase blinked. That name didn’t fit her at all. But alright, he wasn’t one to say anything. “Chase, son of Brody.”

“Lovely to meet you.” Holly grabbed his hand and vigorously shook it. She wasn’t wearing her mask, but it hung around her neck. A bear. And the symbol on its forehead was the same as the one on Jackie’s wolf mask: a circle with two dots inside. “Me and Lukas, we’re in charge of combat up in Wyvernlair. Speaking of which...” She turned around. “Luke! He’s here!”

Chase leaned around Holly to look at who she was addressing...and suddenly felt cold, despite his jacket. Now he remembered where he heard that name before. While he’d been sick with the shivering in the infirmary, he’d overheard a conversation between Jackie and a man in a fox mask. That man had wanted to throw him out of camp, but Jackie had refused...and now, Chase was staring at that very same man.

“I can see that,” Lukas said shortly. He was facing a series of targets, and didn’t turn to look at Holly and Chase. Instead he merely took another arrow from a quiver on his back, nocked it on his bow, and shot. The arrow flew straight into the center of the farthest target, which was barely the size of a hand spread wide.

“No you can’t, you didn’t even look!” Holly scowled, and turned back around. “Sorry about him, Chase. He’s been snippy.”

“Well I wouldn’t be snippy if I hadn’t been standing out here for an hour, waiting for someone who didn’t bother to show up on time,” Lukas snapped.

“I’m not an hour late,” Chase protested weakly. Even behind the fox mask, Lukas’s expression was twisted with frustration and annoyance.

“It’s a matter of principle,” Lukas said, finally turning to face Chase. When he did, Chase noticed the symbol on his mask for the first time: an X, with a dot to either side.

“Let’s just get into it,” Holly said, folding her arms. “Now, Chase. You’re a hunter, yes? So you have some experience with shortbows.”

“I can shoot, yes,” Chase agreed. “But I’ve never heard the term ‘shortbow’ before.” Lukas rolled his eyes, a motion that was partially hidden by the mask but still visible enough for Chase to catch.

“It means a smaller bow, in comparison to Lukas’s massive beast of a longbow over there.” Holly gestured towards Lukas’s bow; it was almost as tall as him. “Shortbows are better for mobility and closer range, while longbows are more suited for staying stationary and shooting long distances.”

“Ah.” Chase nodded. That made sense; bigger bows were more powerful, but also harder to draw back and move around. Amabel once tried to shoot Chase’s own bow when she was seven, and couldn’t pull the string even a little.

“I’m assuming you’re a fairly good shot,” Holly said, rubbing her chin. “So you’ll probably need to work with me more. I’m in charge of close-range combat, while Lukas handles the long range, with bows. So if we’re to—”

“Hold on a moment, Holly,” Lukas interrupted. “I want to see what he can do.”

Holly shot Lukas a dirty look. “There’s no need—”

“Of course there is. We should know what our starting point is.” Lukas turned and walked towards a nearby weapons rack, picking out a smaller shortbow and a quiver of matching arrows. He headed back to the others and thrust the tools at Chase. “Show me how well you hunt.”

“...alright. I will.” Chase took the bow and quiver slowly. He didn’t like being tested, especially not when the test was proposed by a man who clearly thought he was some sort of spy for the King and might be looking for an excuse to kick him out. Should he pretend to be worse than he actually was? No, that would just be complicated. He’d shoot normally.

He stepped up to the place Lukas had been standing, facing the targets, and strapped the quiver onto his back. For a moment, he examined the bow. Solidly built. Looked newer than the one he used back home. And had these odd curves...was this a recurve model? He’d heard of them, but never used one before.

“Soon, please!” Lukas called.

Holly promptly hit him on the back of the head. “Take your time, Chase! Don’t worry!”

Chase nodded. His mouth was suddenly very dry. But he swallowed his nerves, adjusted his stance, and nocked an arrow. He hit it against the back of his head in the process of taking it out of the quiver—not being used to wearing it on his back—and glanced back at the two watching to gauge their reactions. Holly looked supportive, but Lukas was unreadable. He looked away again.

There were ten arrows in the quiver and ten targets set up in front of him. He must need to hit all of them. So he drew back, aimed, and let loose the arrow.

Ten arrows.

Five of them hit the closest targets. Two of those hit their target’s center.

One hit the edge of one of the farther targets.

The remaining four missed.

Feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach, he turned back to Holly and Lukas.

“Wow. That was the most utterly average thing I’ve ever seen,” Lukas said bluntly.

“You hit more than I can!” Holly said positively, giving him a short round of applause. “That’s great!”

Chase nodded silently. “I...I’m not used to this bow.”

Lukas hummed. He went to collect the arrows, giving Chase a side-eyed look as he walked past. It seemed as though his suspicions hadn’t been assuaged. If anything, he looked even more wary.

Holly walked up to Chase and clapped a hand on his shoulder. Chase promptly lost his balance from the force of the contact, and Holly helped him right himself. “Sorry about that,” she said. “And sorry about Lukas. He’s just...he has a hard time trusting people. I’m sure you’ll win him over.”

“It’s fine,” Chase said distantly. “I mean, not everyone’s going to immediately welcome someone new into a group like this. You need to keep secret. There are risks.” Still, Lukas’s distrust, combined with his mediocre shooting skills, left him feeling a bit down. Like a cloud passing over the sun, everything just seemed...disappointing.

Lukas returned, arrows in hand. “Do it again,” he said.

“Elders and Sisters, Luke, we don’t have all day,” Holly protested.

“He needs to practice,” Lukas said, stone-faced.

“He needs to start with me! You can’t handle all your problems from a distance, especially in our situation. What’s he to do if a King’s man jumps him from behind and all he has are arrows?”

“It’s fine,” Chase repeated. He rubbed his arm; they hadn’t given him an arm guard, and despite the jacket fabric, his skin still stung from the bow string. “We have until dinner.”

Holly gave him a look, but sighed and stepped back. “One hour of shooting, then it’s my turn.”

Lukas nodded. “Deal.”

Chase sighed a bit, and took the arrows from Lukas. It was turning out to be a long day.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #jacksepticeye au #septic egos #septic egos au #chase brody #dr schneeplestein #jackieboy man #brigid writes fanfiction #fantasymasksau

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prisonprocess · 3 years

Photo

Tim Goes to Prison

The gear was his prison clothes.

Tim hadn’t thought much about what clothes he’d be wearing in the Recovery Program. He had a vague idea that he’d be wearing maybe some colorful shorts and a tee that said “Get With the Program!” or something else that was intended to boost morale. He knew that’s what they gave kids in summer camp. It was obvious now that he hadn’t thought this thing through. He hadn’t thought about much of anything except what a hassle it would be to spend his whole summer dealing with this humiliating program that he hoped nobody outside of his family—and the family was bad enough—would ever know he had to take, instead of studying ahead for his fall courses. Tim always studied ahead, because he needed to get really good grades if he was going to get into one of the best grad schools, and the Recovery Program was definitely not helpful to his future career. It was an enormous waste of time, and for somebody as shy as Tim it was a total nightmare. But now he had to stand at a counter and tell an officer what size of shirt and pants and shoes he wore—like that was part of his “recovery.”

The officer actually said “boots,” instead of “shoes,” which was scary, because what would Tim need boots for? And it was like the officer wasn’t paying any attention to what Tim said about his sizes, because his “gear” plopped down on the counter almost as soon as Tim said it. “Put THAT gear in the BAG,” the Officer ordered, pointing at a pile of stuff on the left side of the counter, with something that might be a canvas bag lying next to it. “Then take THOSE”--pointing at a pile of stuff on the right side of the counter—“and climb INTO them.” Tim stared back at him, totally bewildered by everything that was going on. “Do it NOW. Over THERE.” All these officers yelled at you like you were completely stupid. It was all so hostile.

Tim fumbled around, picking up the bag and stuffing things into it. He didn’t stop to look at the various objects, which felt like some kind of clothes, but he did notice a plastic ziploc with a toothbrush and a little tube of toothpaste and some other things like that in it, and he put that in the bag too. He realized he’d never wondered what he was going to do when he needed to brush his teeth during the summer, because he’d been told not to “bring anything with you,” but apparently the Facility thought of everything. “HEY!” the officer said. “Grab this shit too! And put em on!” The “shit” made a thump when it hit the counter, because it was a pair of heavy boots.

Tim picked up the boots with one hand and the bag with the other, then remembered that he had a stack of other stuff on the right side of the counter, stuff that he had to “climb INTO,” so he dropped the boots and picked up the stack, and the officer yelled “Git your BOOTS!”, so he grabbed the boots with the same hand that was holding the bag and he scooted across the room to a place where he saw a bunch of other guys putting on clothes.

When Tim looked at the clothes he was supposed to “climb into,” he saw a dead white t-shirt, a pair of thin white boxers, a pair of thick white sox, a weird looking white shirt, and a pair of weird looking white pants. He’d never seen anything like those things before. They were just crazy weird and ugly. There was an old movie he’d seen on TV, where there was a guy called a “soda jerk,” who was the kind of guy that everybody laughed at and felt sorry for, and the soda jerk in the movie was wearing clothes like that, only not nearly so bad. It was just amazing that there were thick blue stripes running down the legs of the pants and a thick blue stripe running down the front of the shirt, with a lot of white buttons poking out of it, like that was a fashion statement. Nobody would make something like that and make other guys wear it unless they wanted to create this big enormous impression of how stupid you were to ever be in a place where you had to wear those clothes.

There was also a cap, which was more of the same—dead white, with a stupid blue brim sticking out in front. And then there were the boots, which were made of thick black leather and felt like lead weights, even when Tim was carrying them in his hand, and now he would have to put them on his legs and wear them. So that was another clown thing he’d have to cope with.

It wasn’t easy getting into his new outfit. Since he’d never worn boots before, he had a hard time pushing his feet into them, and then a harder time figuring out how the laces worked. He’d always been used to loafers and sneakers, and they don’t have eight stiff metal holes running up your legs. Also, he’d never put on a pair of pants that didn’t have a zipper! That was AMAZING! He kept looking at his crotch and not believing it. Instead of a zipper, his pants had a line of five buttons that he had to screw into their stiff, brand-new holes, which he found out was hard to do without giving himself a boner! Then at the end, there was that little monkey cap he had to put on, which matched the rest of his weird little uniform. When it was over, Tim peeked into his bag and saw that besides the baggie with the toothbrush, etc., it was all just more of the same. He counted two more pairs of trousers, long-sleeved shirts and short-sleeved shirts, and some extra underwear and sox—all the same style. And that was it. That was his total “gear.” Obviously, life was going to be basic for the next three months.

#first time in prison #uniform #intake

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lemonietrinket · 4 years

Text

Dreams Come True ||| Johnny x MakeupArtist!Reader

summary: johnny is kind to all the members of staff, and so you believe that he thinks no differently of you genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst but you have to squint, some more heated elements its john warning(s): slightly more inferred heated elements than i usually make, but otherwise none word count: 2189 song(s): ambience an: sorry anon for the wait! this really wasnt supposed to be long, i literally wrote it in my drabble format, and throughout it genuinely felt like it was only 1k words but... yeah. im not changing the format tho no sir. i havent the patience lmao

fem!reader

~~~

the beat of the bass bounced from wall to wall, thumping over the air at the stage and all the way through to the small room you and easily twenty others were mulling around in. a long time ago, the inability to see around the throngs of people—no matter if you knew them or not—would have unnerved you. but now, despite the way you had to curl over the counter of a vanity to make space for the other stylists, you felt at home. because even with your back to the wall, the vibrations running their unnatural fingers along your spine, the gentle smile of an even gentler giant was mere inches from your own, and it left you no option but to be enthralled by nothing but him.

he was grinning despite your repetitive comments asking him not to, as you extended the brush towards his cheeks—probably because you’d said them through small giggles of your own. it wasn’t your fault that his jokes were funny. he had the comedic timing of a god, teasing the others in such a way that it was impossible not to smile... right? he was too gorgeous to block out, but there was no way in hell you would admit that.

“what?” he enquired teasingly, eyebrows raising beneath the fluttering fingers of the hair stylist stood behind him.

you rolled your eyes, applying more colour to your brush just so you had an excuse to avoid his gaze. you knew full well he stared at people intentionally to make them nervous. you had no idea why he did it to you though. it made you take longer with his make-up and you were already falling behind—you didn’t even have to glance at the clock to know, the fact that you were working at the same time as another stylist was enough. you prayed the smooth breeze from the window was enough to cool the blush off your face as you attempted to focus upon your work, smoothing the rouge across his skin. but it was inevitable that he would capture your attention once again, and he did so with spending barely any effort. his chin tilted upwards for you to get a better view of your canvas, leaving you able to make sure everything was blended properly, but also very nearly unable to breathe.

johnny, the only man you were practically assigned to now after you’d proven your skills during a comeback late last year, was known for caring for the staff. holding doors, giving them space, sitting down so they can reach easier because it was his responsibility that he was a damn tree. since you were practically his personal make-up artist, it was thus no surprise that you were the focus of his caring nature. however, even you were beginning to question how far his gestures went. like now—now was one of those times.

“y/n,” he began, and you immediately caught onto that tone of mischief he always had when he was about to try and catch you off guard.

you sighed, biting your lip to try and remain serious in the face of what you knew would inevitably follow. “yes, john?”

he took that as his cue. “do you mind making my lips a little more red?”

glancing away from his eyes before you could get trapped in them, you stared intently at your handiwork instead. regarding his lips, you felt your eyes narrow. they were plenty bright enough, exactly how you’d done last time. ‘you sneak,’ you thought, ‘does he just find joy out of other people’s embarrassment?’ though you had to question yourself if you were really embarrassed, as a part of you was perfectly happy to bask in the opportunity of touching his plush lips. they were so full and soft that you couldn’t help but let your thoughts wander whenever you looked at them.

when you peered up, searching for the clock on the wall, you caught the hair stylist’s stare. she’d slowed her ministrations, and was now eyeing you blankly. only below the surface was there a glint of warning. you quickly glanced away, only to accidentally to meet johnny face on. he’d cocked his head on one side, brow creased in that way that threw your heart in a loop.

“pretty please?”

caught up in his handsome features you could feel the heat rising to your face once again. as much as you willed it away, deep down you knew it was no use. you cursed at yourself in your head, why do you take everything he says so seriously. there’s no way you actually mean anything more to him than just friendly coworker.

you swallowed with a nod, letting your fingers run aimlessly through your kit while you focused primarily on thinking about something else. dwelling on the impossible would do nothing but lower your mood and you knew that. still, it didn’t mean the tiny spools of daydreams didn’t occasionally slip through. they left you dazed when you came back to the real world, as if their tiny pinpricks of imaginary light grew to the size of blinding headlights in the pitch of night. upon your return you found that your gaze had barely left him at all—as soon as your eyes trickled away, they absently fled right back to him. a circumstance that he always looked so damn happy about. dreams don’t come true, y/n.

you hadn’t registered that the hair stylist had stalked away until johnny spoke up and his words left you fumbling in the mix of your own crush and the fear that someone had overheard.

“you look so cute when you’re focused,” he’d said, grin a hair-width from a knowing smirk, eyes curved in that gentle enticement. it was as if he wanted you to fall. had you not been reeling you perhaps would have scowled. you already had fallen, you didn’t need him to turn up the anti any more than he head—otherwise there would come a stutter that your heart didn’t recover from.

“sh-shut up,” you stammered, trying to hide the jump of your heartbeat behind a smile. but as his plush lips parted into a chuckle, your mind just trundled straight back to the dreamscape it always visited when you thought of them.

truly, no one would blame you, because kissing a man like that would be one of the true wonders of the world. the flashes of a possible time, where your lips melded with his and he held you close and safe, away from the rest of the world, where no crowd could ever hurt you, were tantalising to say the least. you bravely gulped them down.

it would not last however, as johnny was on a mission, it seemed, to make you blush as much as possible. so much for feeling calm.

when you poised your hand by his lips again, he merely insisted, “how can i? with someone like you right here... i just can’t help myself.”

you very nearly choked on those threads of dreams as well as the corniness, whilst he underlined all his words with a sweet smile. the one that made you want to cup his cheeks and feel the gravity of such a person before you.

you shook your head, to abandon the thoughts as well as shake him off. he’s just trying to make you laugh. “bleghh, now shush,” you managed, praying he’d take your simple response as a sign to quit.

alas, your poor heart, he did not.

“what? do you not believe me?” you didn’t peer up and instead took advantage of the tiny pause to brush more scarlet around the corner of his lips. it was short-lived however, as they then opened in exaggerated surprise, and you only just managed to pull away before you accidentally painted a faded gash across his chin. “you don’t believe me!”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about, johnny,” you uttered, hesitantly peeking over at the clock to see the minute hand way too close to the hour for your liking.

he sighed, and had you actually regarded the entirety of his expression, you would have spotted how saddened he looked. “you don’t...? ah, y/n, how could you not realise just how beautiful you are?”

“johnny...” you tapered off. you had expected to come out in more of a warning tone, but with the seconds ticking by at an alarming rate, the elation at his words combined with the nerves and irritation at how you couldn’t do your job all combined to make it sound a lot more emotionless than its nature truly was.

“with your gorgeous smile, pretty eyes, adorable laugh, impeccable fashion sense...” he paused and you could have sworn his breath hitched in his throat, “really, it’s enough to ruin even the strongest of people around here, i w—”

in a desperate attempt to get your job done, without a single thought you raised your hand to grip his chin gently between your thumb and finger. and instantly, all the words he had been suddenly desperate to ramble in that moment were stolen off his tongue, the flirty smirk stilled.

for a few seconds you were stunned too, before the two minute call rose throughout the room like a game of chinese whispers. in a moment of sheer reflex, you attended to a minuscule patch of faded vermilion and further highlighted an extra line of shadow that in all honesty didn’t need renovation, all while your head span as you interrogated yourself and the world on as to what the hell johnny was playing at.

“there you’re done.”

your hand jumped away as if shocked by static, and you began to clean up your cramped workspace. you didn’t give a final look over your masterpiece, you knew the man could pull off pretty much anything thrown at, or in this case upon him. but he didn’t respond, and it was the uncharacteristic silence that brought out just enough confidence within you to turn your head towards him once again.

you find his honey eyes wide and a small and silent gasp upon those very lips that had said all those confident, sly things. his fingers were tentatively brushing against where yours had been, as if tracing the petals of a rose.

“i-i would know,” he finished out of the blue, expression still in his stupor.

“sorry?”

johnny’s pout was truly something to behold, and it was now different now. as the light in his eyes softened, he murmured just loud enough to be heard only by you over the chatter of staff and bandmates alike, “weren’t you listening?”

tracing backwards through the amalgamation of chaos that had been the past five minutes felt like it would take hours. somehow though, as in the peculiar nature of all thoughts and memories, you managed to trace back just far enough, for enough to fall into place piece by piece. and as soon as a part of the jigsaw was revealed, the wider picture came into focus. despite your own sheer disbelief.

“i... ruined you?”

he laughed sheepishly then, hand finally moving from his jaw to the back of his neck, the consideration of not ruining his hair style clearly skipping his mind. “well... in all the best terms of the word, yeah.”

silence filled the space between you, leaving the ruckus beyond to only grow and seep into your ears, like the cold of autumn through a forgotten window when the music stopped playing. instinct drew you forward then, as if it were pulling upon strings of fate. your hand twitched in your lap, ready to lift and hold him again, and it was as if both of you forgot where you were—johnny moved forwards in his seat much like you did.

but then came the frantic yell from the doorway. “johnny, what are you doing?! you’re on stage in literally thirty seconds—!”

the man swept to his feet, making sure to draw his face as close to your ear as he could get away with under the suspicious eyes of the staff surrounding you. you would argue that there was no way that could ever be construed as meaningless, but in the moment there was no way you could care.

“you’ll help me get this all off, right? after?” he asked, before he leant back.

you had offered him nothing but a smile, but he knew the gleam in your eyes. it was one of intrigue, one of excitement. with a final glance down to your lips, your crush strode off and out of the room, leaving you with a dozen pairs of eyes all focused intently on you and the bright grin on your face.

you cleared your throat, covering your mouth with the back of your hand as you nodded an apology to them, you hadn’t meant to make him late after all. but nothing could quell the joy that pulsed through your veins, and so you excused yourself for a small break outside to gather your breath in the cool night air.

maybe dreams do come true after all.

~~~

an: i dont like this. not one bit. i really struggled to write it bc creativity hates me so im really sorry :(( i hope ill edit it soon, for the benefit of everyone :/

also... im aware that the ambience isnt specific to the scenario right here, but—as much as i love the idea of the videos og scenario—this is the closest thing i could find to what i was after :(( please imagine more chatter with it

also can you tell i know nothing about makeup? ha

Masterlist

~~~

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kweebtrash · 5 years

Text

hate u love u (M)

Messy After Story

Pairing(s): OC X Johnny

Genre: College AU, Fuckboy AU, Smut, ANGST

Summary: Fuckboys are basically good for one thing. You hit it and quit it- except when his voice draws you in, his body keeps you there, and dumb ass feelings linger making things particularly messy.

Warnings: really sad fucking shit, talks about suicide attempts, drug addiction, alcoholism, talks about death, jealousy and insecurities

Features: contraceptives, smidge of a size kink, grinding, face riding & face fucking, sex tapes, choking, sex toys, anal fingering/fucking, thigh grinding, double penetration, creampies, rough fucking, trying some new shit and being kinda awkward and weird but also having some kind of slutty conversations

Word Count: 17.6k

A/N: ok this is the last one I promise😉 this is really fucking angsty and I teared up at some parts writing it so sorry in advance. Also there's a lot of smut. Like 6.5k worth of smut/smutty conversations. Also, i’m going to edit this in a little while so don’t @ me if you see mistakes. I’m gonna fix them probs tomorrow. I’m just tired.

Messy Masterlist Other Stories Johnny Only Masterlist

I didn't talk to him. For weeks. I couldn't. I was so angry. So hurt. So devastated. He didn't tell me where he applied to, must have been because he was running around so much for his gallery and all that shit. But a fucking heads up would have been nice. I didn't see him off at the airport. I tossed his shit in a box and kicked it to the back of my closet. I cried. I screamed. And at last it wasn't anger anymore. It was hurt. It was pain. It was missing him every. Single. Night. The pain was beginning to swallow me whole and I had no idea what else I should do, or could do. He was halfway across the country and I wasn't in his arms anymore. My pillows were tear stained, my floor covered in snot filled tissues, leftover wrappers, and dirty clothes. Everything was harder without him.

I sat cross legged in the middle of my bed as I chewed on my thumbnail and stared at my phone in front of me. I had reopened all the unanswered texts he had sent me. The "baby, please talk to me," the "baby, I'm sorry," the "princess, daddy needs you. Please." I couldn't cope enough to give him an answer. But now...now I felt too empty. I snatched my phone and dialed his number. My heart pounded so hard in my chest that I could feel the blood rushing to my ears. It went to voicemail. I dropped my phone and covered my face, preparing for another round of tears. My phone vibrated against my leg and I saw his number flash across the screen. I answered it instantly and for the first time in a long time I heard his sweet deep voice. It felt like a warm blanket had been wrapped around me and I sighed.

"Eri." He said sharply.

The blanket disappeared. "H-hi…"

I heard him chewing on something then swallowing. "What?"

"What do you mean what?"

"Why are you calling me?"

"I can call my boyfriend, can't i?"

"Am I your boyfriend?" The questioned stunned me. Of course he was. Why wouldn't he be? We didn't break up we just…

"Y-yes?" My voice trembled. "Yes. Yes, you are."

"Hmm." He chewed again. "Didn't feel like I was."

"I was...upset."

"Yeah, no shit."

I wanted to fucking cry. He didn't even seem to care at all. "I m-miss you. A lot. And I...I wanted to see how you were doing."

"Oh, now you want to?" I heard him cover the phone and call out to someone, though it was all muffled. "You can do it only at your convenience?"

"I just want to see you. Can I see you?"

"You're gonna fly here? And who's gonna pay for that shit? You're gonna make Quinn do it?"

The tears started to fall again, as quick as a waterfall in a rainforest. "N-n-no. I can do-do it on my own. Do you want me t-there?"

"You're crying."

I stopped talking for a moment, knowing that my voice was going to jump a few octaves and turn into an indecipherable squeak.

"Eri."

"Y-yeah?" I sniffled and wiped my nose with my shirt sleeve. Now it was his turn to stay quiet, save for his fucking chewing. "What in God's name are you eating right now?"

"Shrooms." He swallowed.

What? Like…? "You mean-?"

"Yeah, so anyway, I don't know if you should come here, you know? Seeing as how you didn't talk to me for basically a month and now you're thinking it's okay to call me in the middle of a party and make me feel a bunch of shit. That's pretty cool right? That's pretty fun, right? I'm gonna hang up now."

The line went silent and so did my entire world.

I pretended to smile when I was around Quinn. I pretended that I was supportive of Johnny and so happy for him. I only cried when they were over at Jae's house. I hadn't let them in my room and see what a disaster it was. It was closed at all times. I tried my best to keep up my facade and hoped that Johnny had too. If Jae knew anything it would fuck everything up and all would have been for naught. I didn't know how to ask him or if I really even should. Maybe I was keeping up this glamour for myself. So I could pretend that everything was fine and lie to myself instead of Quinn. Maybe it was all for the sake of my sanity.

I had found a slightly better job and quit the Italian restaurant. This one paid more and all I had to do was sit as a desk and listen to people complain about their orders and why it wasn't there on time. It was annoying to take so many calls a day and even worse for my fucking mood disorder. Hearing these people whine fucking drove me up the wall and I chain smoked every lunch break to try and keep it together. I couldn't lose this job. Because it paid so much more than I was used to I was finally able to set money aside. My savings account was looking pretty decent and that was why I wanted to go see him. I could afford to and maybe we could talk it out.

I was on my fourth cigarette since I got home and a quarter into my bottle of bourbon when I got a call. I wasn't really paying attention to who it was, i just answered when I heard the buzzing. "Yeah?"

"Hey."

It was him. I fumbled and almost spilled my paint cup that was filled with swirls of reds and purples. I managed to stop it from falling over and ruining the current piece I was working on. I kicked the canvas away gently and wiped my hands on my already paint covered thighs. "U-uh...um...h-hi."

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing, just uh…" I swayed a little and leaned back against my bed to support myself. I was starting to get the spins. "Just chilling in my room. Why?"

"Talk to me."

"Are you high?"

"Not right now, no." His voice sounded raspy, as if he had just woken up.

"Where are you?"

"My bed. Where are you? Oh...wait. You already said that."

"Are you ok?" I asked.

"Are you?"

"No."

"Me either."

He cleared his throat. "'m sorry about last night. I was at a party and-"

"Since when have you started doing other drugs?"

"Hm? Oh...I mean...it wasn't the first time. I've done it before."

"And you never told me?"

"It was before we met. Don't worry about it. You still drinking?"

"Yeah, I'm still fucking drinking." I scoffed.

"I know. I can hear it in your voice. You're getting there."

"Yeah, well...shit happens."

"You really want to come here?"

"Do you really want me there?"

He took a deep breath and went silent again. "Yes."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"I can be there. I can ask for time off. I have enough vacation time."

"Come here. Come to me. Be in my arms. Be on top of me..." He exhaled slowly. "Kiss me."

"It still hurts Johnny."

"I fucking know that already. Trust me."

"Have you told Jae about what's going on with us?"

"No, not really. Told him I've been busy. That I love him. That kind of stuff."

"I haven't told Quinn. I kinda just...pretend."

"You always pretend."

"And you don't?" I snapped

"Of course I do." He chuckled. "We always pretend that everything's okay. And that's when we tip back a drink or smoke and destroy ourselves together. Don't you remember? That night after we fucked...we just sat against the wall of the bedroom and drank half a bottle of whiskey and just laughed about shit. I got high and you smoked like half a pack. And then I ate you out so good you came twice."

I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my face in them. I hadn't expected him to say that, to bring that up. "I laughed so hard and cried until I had a mental breakdown."

"Yup. And what did we do after?"

"You wiped my tears and fucked me again and I held onto you so fucking tight because I didn't want you to let me go."

"I remember the scratches. Those weren't orgasmic scratches. Those were in pain scratches."

"I know." I sniffled and punched the side of my thigh over and over so I could redirect my thoughts to not crying.

"Come here. I want to have another night like that with you."

"That was a bad night Johnny…"

"It was and it wasn't. The bad stuff makes us closer and we understand each other better."

"I don't want a bad night. I want a good night. I want only good night's with you."

"We'll have good night's. We will. We'll talk about shit...that's what you want right?" He asked.

"You need to want it to johnny!"

"I do want it! Don't fucking yell at me! I mean I'm fucking asking you to come here. What else do you think I want?"

"Fine, I'll fucking get a ticket tonight and I'll go for like a week."

"Fine. Fucking sounds good to me."

"Fine!" What the hell was happening? We're we mad about seeing each other or not? I laid down on the floor and set the phone down, putting it on speaker. My head was hurting so much and now I had to ask for time off and plan everything by myself. "Can I come at any time or do you have to ask for time off?"

"I can get a couple days off. The rest I might have to work but you can sleep in and I'll be back by the time you wake up. Maybe come on a Thursday and leave on a Wednesday? I don't work weekends unless there's an event and I don't have a weekend event for a bit."

"Ok, I'll ask my job and I'll buy the ticket as soon as I know."

"'mmkay. Sounds good."

We were quiet again and I hated it. "I guess I'll talk to you later." I said, bitterly.

"Okay...if you wanna. I love you, yeah?"

It was the first time I had heard him say it in a long time and it made my heart clench and I started crying again. Goddammit, I could fill a fucking ocean with how much i cried for this man. I went back to hitting my thigh to try and distract myself from it. "I love you too."

"Do you want to...stay on the phone with me, maybe? I haven't heard what's going on with you. You haven't really posted on IG or anything in awhile."

"I don't want people to really look into my life right now. I've been kind of a recluse… You're...partying I guess."

"Ehh, kind of. Every once in awhile. I still have to keep my job right?" He chuckled. "It's been um...really rough without you."

"Yeah I...we...yeah…" He cleared his throat again and I heard him sniff a bit. "Johnny don't you dare."

I heard his voice crack and that was the end. We were two fucking cry babies thousands of miles away from each other and wanting to give up everything just to be together. I wanted to make it work with him. I loved him too damn much to give up now.

I was nervous when I stepped out of the airport. California had a weird vibe to it and I wasn't sure if I liked it or not yet. I could deal with cities, hell I lived in one for like half my life, but this was weird, even for just an airport. I looked around trying to find Johnny from the directions he had texted me. I felt so lost and was ready to call him until I saw him looking around as well. "Johnny!"

His head whipped around and a big smile beamed on his face. I ran to him, almost dropping my luggage because I really didn't care anymore. I just wanted him. He gave me a monstrous hug and spun me around, squeezing me as tight as he could. I almost couldn't breathe. His arms felt so much stronger, especially when I grabbed onto his biceps.

He set me down and cupped my face to kiss me hard, before I could even say anything. I had almost forgotten how warm and soft his lips were and definitely got harshly reminded of how much his tongue filled my mouth. Jesus...why did he feel so much bigger? "A-ahmm...j-johnny u-um…"

"Hmm?" His hands were already grabbing at my hips and I pawed him away.

"We're in public, you slut."

"Sorry, sorry. I couldn't help it. You-" He stopped mid sentence and looked me over. I stood up a bit straighter unsure of what he was looking for

"What?"

"You're skinny."

"Excuse me?"

"Like skinnier. You were kinda chubby before I left."

"EXCUSE ME?!"

"No! I mean, like, it's not a bad thing I just-! Like you look hot! I mean you looked hot before too but-"

"Stop fucking talking before I get on that plane and go right the fuck home." I growled.

"Ugh, I'm sorry. That came out all wrong. What I meant to say was that...you look beautiful."

"Yeah that better be what you meant to say, asshole." I punched his arm but shook my knuckles out immediately after. Why was it so damn hard? Now it was my turn to give him the once over and I realized he was bigger. Definitely more filled out and muscular. His pants were straining at his thighs, like usual but even more so. His arms were more defined and he looked like he could throw me against a wall and I would say thank you. I could clearly see the veins in his arms and I was ready to die right there. "O-oh…" was all I managed to squeak out.

"What? Wait are you checking me out now?" He laughed. "You think I'm fat?"

"No…" I shifted, a bit self conscious of myself now. "You're hot, like always." How many girls had tried to hit on him since he moved here? Ugh, I never thought of something like that before. I wasn't really the jealous type...was I? Well...maybe a little.

He picked up my luggage and put an arm around my shoulders. "Cmon, we've got to check into the hotel."

"Hotel? Why aren't we just staying at your place?" I asked.

"Uh...well...I just wanted it to be special you know? Just me and you."

"Oh you have roommates?"

"Sorta…"

Suddenly I was staring in front of an ugly ass blue van with rust stains on the bottom and scratches along the doors. I was even more surprised when Johnny shoved a key into the lock and slid back the door. I peeked in as he set my luggage behind the passenger seat and saw a mattress in the back, a tension rod holding his clothes up on the opposite door and all his tech stuff hidden beneath the back seat. Curtains covered most of the windows and there was a huge bag of laundry behind the driver's seat. "Ready?" He asked.

I looked at the van then at him then at the van again. "Are you living out of your fucking car?"

"No, well...yes and no. Not entirely. Rent here is kind of ridiculous and I promised jae I would still pay my half of the rent for the apartment while I was gone. So I pay for that, the car, the insurance, my gym membership so I can work out and get ready in the morning there, and then sometimes I stay at my friend's place when I need to cook or do laundry. Hence the...hotel." He cleared his throat and shut the door quickly. "Well, let's get in."

I couldn't believe this. He went all the way to California for this?? What the absolute fuck? He opened the door for me and I stepped in without another word because I knew that if I talked I would say something I would regret. He got into the driver's seat and cut the engine on, leaving a trail of exhaust fumes behind us. He held my hand and stroked his thumb across the back of it, still smiling as he drove "Are you hungry?"

"No, not right now. Maybe we can order something later? I'm a bit jetlagged." I lied.

"Yeah, whatever my princess wants."

I felt my cheeks flush a bit when I heard him say that. It was different in person than over text and it still made me shiver. I looked over at him as he drove one handed. He was still so heart stoppingly gorgeous and even though I had a bunch of questions and irritations about the van I realized that wasn't what was important right now. I was with my Johnny and we were trying to make things right again. That was what was most important. I gave his hand a squeeze and closed my eyes, letting him take us to where we needed to go. When we got to the "hotel" however, I found that it was just a generic motel chain and not anything remotely nicer. It was a bit of a let down and I tried not to be too materialistic but damn if I didn't want this to be a little more special. He opened the door for me and got my luggage out. We went to our room which was just a small ways from the car. The inside was plain, brown, white sheets on the bed. Nothing spectacular. He went back to get his own bag and lock the car before both of us were in the room, alone at last.

I kicked off my wedges and sat on the bed which seemed a little too hard for my liking. We were quiet for a moment. I was too busy staring at my feet dangling off the bed to notice that he was now in front of me, pushing me down gently and crawling on top of me. "Hey." He whispered as he pushed my hair back and ran his fingers down the side of my face.

"H-hi." I looked at him then drove my eyes away.

"Do you want to kiss me?"

"I want to do a lot of things to you." I confessed.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" He teased before placing soft pecks against my lips. "Tell me."

"Um...can I just go freshen up a bit?" I squirmed away from him and wiggled myself off the bed.

"Um...ok. Are you alright? Do you not want to?" He reached his hand out to me and I just patted it awkwardly.

"No I do I just...give me a couple minutes, ok?"

"Sure, babe…"

I grabbed my luggage and sped to the bathroom, almost a hyperventilating mess. I was so nervous! Why the fuck was I nervous? He's my boyfriend. He's seen me every which way. He's put me in all sorts of positions. We've made so many messes and yet...my stomach was churning and I was getting butterflies just thinking about him being so much bigger than I was and looking down at me. It just reminded me of our first hookup almost an entire year ago. Jesus, we had known each other for a year? I took a deep breath and looked at myself in the mirror. Ok, just...get ready for a sexy night like normal. You can do this Eri.

I took a quick shower, washing just the important parts and making sure not to get water on my face. I didn't want to do my entire makeup look all over again. Once I was done I brushed my teeth, reapplied some of my makeup and made sure I smelled like a yummy dessert with the perfume and lotion I put on. I was constantly wondering if I was doing too much but it was whatever. I was going to make sure he was reminded of what had been waiting for him back home. I slipped on my new half shelf bra that barely held me in and his favorite garter and thigh high set that had to be washed so many times because of how much he came on them. I gave myself the once over and made sure I looked ok before cracking the door open slightly.

He had pulled his shirt over his head and I could see every dip and ripple of his back muscles as he worked to undo his belt and shuffle his jeans down. I had to squint just to be sure but it looked like he was wearing red silk boxers. This whole nerd. I fussed over myself one last time before opening the door completely. I had expected him to still be standing but he was sprawled out in some cheesy "sexy" pose with a plastic rose in his mouth until his jaw dropped. "Oh my god, what are you doing, you dork?! Where's you get that flower from?"

He spit and wiped his mouth. "It was in the vase over there. I think it had dust on it. I didn't realize and...wow."

"Why are you such a dummy?" I crawled onto the bed and sat beside him, blushing still. "So...what do you think?"

"I can't think. What is thinking? Boobs." He made no point in hiding his staring.

I shoved his head away playfully. "Idiot. Yes, my boobs are here for you to look at."

"Touch."

"Yes, that too. Oh my god." I grabbed him by his chin and tilted his head up for a kiss. "I missed how much you make me laugh."

"I missed…" He grabbed my thighs and pulled them from beneath me so he could take his place above me again once I fell onto my back. His hands joined mine and pinned them beside my head. "Everything about you."

"I have a few rules for tonight."

"Oh? Is there something you don't wanna do?"

"The opposite. Your rules are that you have to make me squirt, you have to choke me, you have to let me ride your face, you have to AT LEAST finger my ass, and if you do all that you can cum in me every time."

His eyes went wide. "Ev-every time? You'd let me do that?"

"Yeah, I took some extra precautions."

"Like what?"

"Well one, I just got my new birth control implant in so my arm doesn't fucking hurt anymore and two I got spermicide film."

"Yah what?"

I rolled my eyes. "Basically it's something I put on the inside and it kills the sperm on contact. So no cretins running around. We just have to wait a bit for it to dissolve but that's what foreplay is for, right?"

"Mhmm…" He licked his lips and started pressing kisses down my neck. "You're fucking amazing. I can't wait to fill you up so damn good."

"Eww don't say that." I giggled and smooshed his face away then rolled over onto my stomach beneath him. He instantly set his bulge against my ass and ground into me.

"Wait do I really have to finger your ass?" He said in between kisses across my shoulders and down my back.

"It would be nice since you still haven't done it yet. And I told you it's not "icky" like you think it is."

He groaned. "Ok, if I do it you swear I can cum in you?"

"Absolutely promise, love. I even bought toys to help you out. I mean, you love my ass so much why don't you play with it?"

"Ok, ok, fine. I'll agree to it. But just this once."

"Trust me, you'll want to do it again." I smirked as backed myself up against him, rubbing over the front of his boxers. "I like the silk by the way. Super cute."

He groaned and gripped my hip roughly, pressing into the spot that always drove me wild. I let out a small whimper and shoved my face into the mattress as my body felt tingly all over. "What toys did you bring?" I could hear the smirk in his voice as he continued to grind and keep his weight on top of me.

"U-um, just a vibrator, some lube, and a-ahh! Hmm...a dildo. Some other stuff."

"Why the dildo?" He nipped at my ear and traced his tongue over my lobe.

"I thought maybe if you didn't want to um...fuck me there I could just play with it."

"Your ass, you mean?"

I gripped the sheets tighter and rocked back harder against him. He hadn't let go of my hip and I was already getting flushed all over. "Uh-huh."

"How big is it?" He worked me onto my knees and spread them as wide as my hips would allow. His fingers had all the access he wanted to work up and down my slit, feeling the wetness that had just begun to form.

"U-um like...7 inches or-" I shuddered and wanted to snap my legs shut when he teased my entrance with a small poke. "S-so…"

"You can take all that there?"

I nodded. "I've done it before. I just need a little bit of help is all."

"And that help is me stretching you open?" He dipped the entirety of his finger inside me now and I bowed my back, hissing slightly. "Why are you so needy right now?"

"Well I haven't had sex since you left. Why the fuck do you think I'm needy? Aren't you the same?"

He didn't answer me and instead thrust his finger in deeper. "You're so small, you know that? You look extra tiny right now."

"We get it, Suh, you have a size kink." I grumbled and tried to move back on his finger but he pulled it away.

"You gonna behave?"

I pouted and gave him a glare. "Don't you dare tease me. That's not part of the rules."

"Let me implement some of my own rules then. One, I get to tease you all I want and I mean taking hours just to lick and kiss you everywhere and not letting you cum at all. Two, you let me face fuck you. Did you bring that spray stuff?"

I scoffed and looked away. "Tch, yeah...or whatever."

"Good. Three, let's make a movie."

I shot up entirely and shoved him away. "WHAT?!"

"Don't make it a big deal. It's just for you and me only. I'm lonely without you here and I can watch it when I miss you the most."

"It is a big deal! Don't you remember what fucking happened to me?!" I yelled.

"Yeah but I'm not stupid or an asshole. I'm your boyfriend. I don't even want anyone to look at you sexually let alone see you naked or getting rawed. I'd be furious. This is just for you and me."

"N-no...i-i don't know, Johnny. If we break up i-"

"We're not breaking up...I thought we were but I'm glad we're not." He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my shoulder. "It's not getting uploaded anywhere. It's going on my password protected photo app. No one can get into it but me. I swear, Eri."

"What if I want to stop it?"

"Then we stop it, duh. There's no reason to keep going if you're uncomfortable. We can at least try it for a bit. We're both doing new things tonight. We can celebrate."

"And if I don't like it, you'll delete it right?"

"You can delete it from my phone yourself. You're safe with me babe. Trust me." He held me tighter and nuzzled his face against against my neck.

"I'm nervous…"

"What? Don't be! It's just me, princess. I make you feel good, don't I?" I nodded meekly and played with the band of my thigh highs. "We can get going for a bit then I'll turn it on so that way you're really feeling it. Sound good?"

"O-ok." I agreed, still a little reluctant. But he was right. Maybe we could at least try.

"Good," He laid down, stuffing pillows behind his head and beckoning me over. "Come here, angel."

I shuffled over to straddle him, setting my knees on either side of his head. I propped my hand on the wall and looked down at him as he licked his lips. His arms wrapped around my thighs and held me in place. His face was buried against me in no time, diving his tongue into me as his nose brushed against my clit. I sucked in a sharp breath and let my other hand fall into his hair. "J-johnny, fuck...I missed your tongue."

He only hummed against me and flicked his tongue faster, slurping lewdly and licking up the length of my slit. His hands slid up and down my thighs, over my hips and stomach, and towards my chest. He grabbed each of my breasts and squeezed, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples. My fingers fisted his hair and pulled as I needed him more and more. I rocked my hips against his face, already feeling the effects he had on me. He parted for just a moment to take in a breath. "Just a sec."

"S-sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's ok. I'm fine now. You taste good. I want more."

"Shut up. No I don't. You're just say-" I gasped as he devoured me further. He caressed my body, hands flowing back down so his thumbs could spread my lips apart. The tip of his tongue painted intimate patterns into me, making me shudder and moan his name loudly. I didn't care anymore if I was loud or not. I needed this like it was my own personal drug. My toes dug into the mattress as I rolled my hips faster, getting closer to falling over the edge. He pulled away again and I figured he needed more air but instead he pushed my hips downward, making me rest over his boxers. "What the hell?!" I pouted.

"Grind on me."

"I was about to cum."

"Didn't I say that I get to tease you without making you cum at all? Now start." I huffed and slid his boxers off, revealing the girth underneath. I worked my hand over the length, wrapping my fingers around his shaft and giving him a good squeeze. "Not what I asked for."

"Fuck off." I hovered over his cock and planted my hands on his chest before I rode my wetness up and down from head to base. His eyes closed and his head fell back into the pillows, his whole body relieving itself of tension. I loved watching him sink into bliss; seeing that shit eating grin on his face because he knew he was getting what he wanted. He settled his hands behind his head and chuckled a bit as my hole brushed over the most sensitive part of him. I teased him by sinking down onto his tip, just a few centimeters or so, before sliding back down and never letting him enter me. Johnny knew that I would tease him just as much as he would tease me. Two could always play that game of course.

I pressed my chest to his, lowering myself just close enough that I could lick his lips. I swiped my tongue across his bottom lip and he easily let me in. Our tongues collided and I drew his in to suck on deeply. It morphed into deeper kisses where I could scarcely breathe and we would exchange licks and sucks in the dirtiest ways. One of his hands grabbed the back of my head while the other grabbed my ass, controlling all of my movements. I was his to fuck, his to play with, and his to love unconditionally. I managed to break away from him for a moment, panting against his lips. "Do you want to be inside me now?"

"Hmm, in a bit. Let me get my tripod. Get up."

Oh right. That. I scooted off him and wiped my lips that were still tender. I could taste myself on his tongue and wondered why he liked it so much. I unhooked my bra and tossed it aside before heading back to the bathroom where I had left my luggage. I dug through my clothes and pulled out all the naughty things I had brought with me, taking them back to the bed. His phone was all set up on the tripod ready to go. "Tell me what I should do first." I propped myself on all fours, waiting for his answer.

"Better get the spray out." He smirked.

"Of course, you slut." I spritzed a bit of the numbing spray into my mouth, wincing at the overly strong peppermint taste. "Blegh. It feels like toothpaste down my throat."

"Well hopefully my dick will make it better." He tapped record on his phone and told me to come to the edge of the bed. I was just at the perfect height for where he wanted me and I opened my mouth, sticking my tongue out. His gripped his base and rubbed the head of his cock against my tongue, swirling it a bit. I wrapped my lips around him and suckled on the sensitive area and the soft curse he let out warmed every inch of my skin. I set my hands on his hips and flowed back to grab a hold of his ass to steady myself.

He thrust into my mouth, slowly at first, getting me used to the stretch within my lips. Every few minutes or so he would push in further until he touched the back of my throat. It was a slightly uncomfortable feeling but I didn't gag thanks to the spray. Instead he remained nestled in for a while until he looked down at me. "Ready?"

I was already thinking about how sore my throat was going to be tomorrow but I nodded against him. He gripped the back of my head with both hands and pulled out slowly before plunging straight in. I dug my nails into his skin as my nose brushed against his lower stomach and he destroyed my throat. He didn't let up on his speed and I struggled to breathe through my nose. I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt tears already prickling at the corners of my eyes. He fumbled through obscene curses and almost incoherent mumbles, the pleasure of my mouth wrapped around him seeming to drive him insane. I tapped on his hip, signaling to let me go. He pulled out completely and I worked to clear the saliva between us.

He dragged his thumb across my lips to clean me up as well. "You okay?" I nodded and swallowed hard. "You sure?" I nodded again and pulled him back to me, opening my mouth for another round. "Good girl."

My body lit up at the praise and I held my head a little higher, squaring myself and gripping the edge of the bed. He worked his way back in, feeding himself into me and wreaking havoc on my taste buds. I managed to look up at him and realized he had been staring down at me the whole time. I darted my eyes away though he tapped my chin to get me to look back up. His big hand was suddenly engulfing my throat and added accompanying pressure to the point where I felt light headed. "You look so good like this, you know that?" I heard him say. My body was almost swaying and I tried to keep my frame firm but it wasn't any use. My eyes fluttered closed and I leaned into his hand until my breath was non existent. "Eri?" My hearing was fuzzy but I felt myself wanting to smile, whether I was doing it or not, I didn't know. The feeling of not being able to breathe and floating into an unconscious space was always thrilling but I was ripped from me just as it started getting good.

He pulled back again, letting his grip on me fade and I took in a large gulp of air, falling into a coughing fit. He walked away from me to go to the mini fridge within our room and get a small bottle of water. He handed it to me and I took it graciously, downing it in seconds. He stopped the recording and sat down beside me. "You good? You looked like you were going to faint or something. I got scared."

"I'm okay, I just got lightheaded."

"Fuck, it was too much then, wasn't it?"

I leaned against his shoulder and giggled. "No, I like getting lightheaded when I'm being choked."

He scoffed. "Of course you do. Don't scare me like that though, ok? Maybe were not completely ready for the face fucking."

"I'm sorry, baby. I liked it, I really did and I didn't think I would. It's just kinda like another form of choking." I nudged my head just under his chin and rubbed his broad chest. "Maybe we can try again a little later too?"

"It was pretty hot. You looked so damn good." He licked his lips then kissed me briefly before commanding me to lay down. He made me hold my legs open while he retrieved the bottle of lube from the small pile of things I had brought over. I watched as he added a small glob to his fingers and pressed it to my rim. "I guess we can start this now."

"You sure you're okay with it?" I asked, not wanting to force him to do anything he didn't want to.

"I might as well try it. I mean, I never thought it was really hot or sexy but you are so maybe I'd like it. You think it would make you squirt?"

"I've never done it with just anal but maybe if we add some other stuff it might. It'll be fun to find out." I grabbed his other hand and folded my fingers into his, giving the back of it a chaste kiss.

He returned the kiss to my stomach and took a deep breath. "I have to go slower, right? Like it'll hurt more if I don't?"

"Right. It's just like fingering me regularly just a little more cautious. You'll be ok." I assured him.

"What if it feels gross?"

"Oh my god, Johnny, it will not feel gross. I swear."

He scrunched up his nose and didn't move. I sighed and set my legs down. "You don't have to do- OH WELL OK THEN!" I felt him press into me, his fingertip wiggling its way inside.

"Keep your legs open, dammit."

"Ya could've warned me!"

"You wanted me to do this anyway so hush!" I reopened my legs and noticed that he was blushing through his face of deep concentration. He was even poking his tongue out a bit. It was cute but now I was a bit afraid of how thick his fingers were."How many do you want in here?"

"Three usually works. But not all at once!"

"I know that! Just calm down! You're making me feel weird." I kept quiet then, closing my eyes and trying to relax around his finger. He let my hand go to gently brush his thumb over my clit, letting me focus on that sensation until his entire finger finally poked through. "Huh."

"What "huh"?"

"Kinda feels a bit weird. Not like a normal vagina."

"Well duh," I said. "Probably because it's NOT a vagina??"

"Eri, Jesus Christ." He slammed his lips against mine then in order to keep me quiet as he started to slowly thrust his finger.

"You're being a fuckboy again." I said in between a few kisses.

"No, I'm just being me. We can be weird and casual in bed." He nipped at my bottom lip and curled his finger gently. "Am I doing it right?"

"Y-yeah," I wrapped my arms around his ribcage and nudged my thigh between his legs. "Feels nice. You'll need some more lube for the second one though."

"I know." He swallowed hard and pressed his cock against the fabric of the thigh highs, beginning to rub against it. "Just give me a sec...fuck…" That always got him going; a begging and needy prince that wanted to fuck my thighs and grind against them until he made a mess. It had become my favorite thing for us to do just because I loved his change in demeanor. He was hiding in my neck, whimpering slightly and kissing me in the softest of ways. I pushed his hair back and encouraged him not to forget about his finger deep inside me. He had stopped as he had gotten distracted with his grinds that were gradually getting faster.

"You know you're not allowed to cum this way, no matter how much you want to." I whispered.

He nodded and sunk a small bite into my neck. "I-i know b-but-!"

"No but's Johnny. You know the rules." He had the biggest pout on his face and I couldn't help but giggle. "Someone's a little submissive."

"I am not submissive. I just like cumming on your thighs."

"But do you like cumming inside me more?" It was like he was weighing the pros and cons of each situation, never before encountering it. He opened his mouth to speak then shut it, his brows furrowing again in thought. I smirked and grabbed the bottle of lube and dangled it in front of his face. "While you're thinking it over how about you get to work stretching me more."

He sighed and snatched the bottle from me, pulling out his finger then adding lube to them both. He was even slower as he tried to pry in again. It had been so long since I had done this and I was too tight for comfort. It was going to be some time before I opened up full. The fingertips did eventually get in, making me gasp and mewl like a kitten in heat. I arched up, pressing my thigh against him harder and sliding my hand down my body to thrust inside my wetness. "Damn, is this what you're like every time you do anal?"

"Shut up...I just kinda like...um...both holes filled at the same time."

"Ooohhh. Is that your fantasy?"

"To get fucked by two guys and eat out a girl at the same time? Yeah. I mean if you would've went with the foursome idea at christmasssss..."

"Hm." He shoved his fingers into me fully making me cry out.

"F-fuck! Johnny! You asshole!" The stinging pain was somewhat strong but the masochist in me wasn't running away from it. They were working faster, curling against the tightness and scissoring me open. I held onto his wrist, making sure he was pinned in place. I didn't want him to leave, I couldn't bear the thought of him stopping just to tease me again. I was pumping my own fingers into myself faster, my breaths war torn and ragged. He was grinding harder against my thigh, rubbing against the mesh and bringing moans out of him so deep that I wanted to scream. I fucking missed this so much; making him moan, whimper, beg, pant. Everything. It just brought me back to how much his voice made me quiver with orgasms since before I even met him.

"I need you, Eri. Now."

"Just a little more. Please. I want you too but just a little more!" I bit down on my lip as my other hand grasped the sheets between us. He was peeved that I wouldn't let him inside me just yet but by the way he was throbbing and leaving a wet patch on the fabric between us I could tell he was enjoying the show. He edged another finger inside me and we matched three for three. Both sets of fingers filling me had my holes clamping in eagerness to cum. The edge of my palm brushed against my clit while his thick fingers curled deeper inside me, circling against pleasure points and spaces that reawakened after so long. And then he pulled away and shoved my hand aside. "God fucking dammit Johnny!!" All he could do was laugh and I wanted to punch him in the chest. "Really?!"

"Yeah, you're hot when you're sexually frustrated." I watched him leave me to tap the record button again. He then returned to prop himself against the wall, his lap welcoming me to sit on it. He patted his thighs and I crossed my arms, my lips in full pouting mode. "Hah! Don't give me that shit. You want it bad. You're not gonna be a brat for long. Get over here, Eri."

"No! You're being a jerk!"

"You wanna cum don't you?" I glanced over as he said those words lower and definitely more enticing. His hand was wrapped around his cock and adding slow strokes to his shaft. His tongue poked out to graze his bottom lip and I hated that he was trying to win me over. I couldn't resist the way he looked when he had his legs open like that, hair sticking slightly to his forehead, and his broad chest heaving slightly. Droplets of precum slid down onto his fingers as he gave his head a squeeze, hissing as his teeth sucked in air. "Princess...come here."

Oh fuck you. I caved in and straddled his lap, lowering my gaze to his length. I set my hand over his and guided him towards my entrance, slowly sinking down until he filled me completely. We stood still for a moment, almost in shock at how amazing it felt. It was way different from when he wasn't feeling sexual when he first started his meds. We got to be intimate on other levels and though I craved him I was still mostly patient and comforted him. This was months of sadness, anger, hatred, pain, and heart wrenching love that had culminated into a burst of sexual frustration and passion all at once. I didn't need anything but him. In fact if we stayed holed up in this shitty motel the entire week I think I would be able to survive off his kisses alone.

"Move, for the love of fucking god, move." He begged. He was just as desperate as I was and I gave into his command before he even finished his sentence. I held onto his shoulders and worked through the burning in my thighs to bounce quickly. Feeling him plunge deep and fill me with every inch of his girth was a gift I was more than happy to accept. I noticed him fumbling his hands behind me but barely gave it any thought. I was too entranced by chasing my pleasure and hoping he wouldn't pull away again. That was when I felt something poking at my rim. I gasped as he pushed it through, stuffing me with the dildo in an act I'd never thought he'd do.

"B-baby, w-wha-what are you-?"

He gripped the back of my neck and growled against my lips. "Fuck yourself on them both."

I swallowed hard and nodded, switching my movements to swift rolls of my hips so I could catch both cocks on a heated rhythm. Johnny moved the dildo faster, almost as fast as his hips were snapping up into me now. I cupped his jaw and landed sloppy, half met kisses to his lips which he reciprocated with bites and licks to my tongue whenever he could. I was a literal mess and at his mercy. His free hand tore into my ass cheek, creating half moon indentations in my skin. I heard a thud then and realized his head had collided with the wall as he tried to move it back. "Ouch! Shit."

I giggled in between pants and cradled his head. "You're always knocking your head on something when we fuck. Are you ok?"

"Yeah yeah yeah, just keep going. I'm an idiot."

"My idiot." I gently rubbed the back of his head and held him close to my chest, setting my other hand against the wall. I mewled as my skin seemed to break with how rough he was digging his teeth in but it was fucking beautiful. With how much he had teased me and with all the sensory overload he was providing now, my orgasm was quick to come. When I rolled my hips, my clit would rub against his base and added to everything that was destroying me. That little motion was enough to have me dousing his lower stomach and thighs with my cum that gushed out in heavy spurts. My hand flew to cover my mouth and stop my scream from bursting through. It was so intense, too intense even, and I scrambled to pull away from him as my body curled up and I felt trembling aftershocks.

I could only curse and bury my face into the bed, my fist ripping the bedsheet from the corner of the mattress. Johnny hovered over me, tossing the dildo aside and trying to pry my legs open. "Nonononono." I whimpered as I was still too sensitive. I didn't want him to drive me into another orgasm that soon. I didn't think my body could take it. But he was inside me again, my hands pinned by my head as he slammed into me. I could barely look up at him but he was hovering over me, casting a shadow against the ceiling light and somehow seeming much bigger than before. "I love you…" He gasped out. "Cum with me this time."

I sure as hell would try. My walls were weak and anything could send me over the edge again. I closed my eyes as I felt him throb then stutter, a warmth filling my belly and simultaneously flowing out of me. I felt tears prickling at my eyes as my second flow of cum spread onto the sheets beneath us. He collapsed onto me and I held onto him so tight as the tears finally fell. My mind was a sea of emptiness. No thoughts filtered through and I just wanted to stay in this moment with him forever. I closed my eyes and let our heartbeats slow down until our breaths steadied. "God…" I whispered. "That was…"

"All I ever wanted and more." He pushed back his sweat drenched hair and gave me a small kiss. "Are you crying?"

"Oh." I wiped my eyes quickly. "Not sad crying. Like it was just a lot at once and it felt so good. I don't know. It just...happened." I laughed.

"Weirdo." He smiled. "Oh shit, the video."

"Shut it off."

"Well I don't wanna pull out yet."

"Fine, just shuffle with me until you can reach it." We looked stupid scooting our bodies close to the edge of the bed just so he could stop the video and take his phone off the tripod. I sighed as he sat back and made sure my legs were wide open.

"This is why I didn't want to pull out yet. I want to see it drip out of you." He held the phone above me and I rushed to cover myself.

"That's embarrassing, you giant pervert!!"

"No it's not! It's so damn hot. Please? Pleaseeeeee??" He covered my face in silly little kisses, trying his best to convince me.

"What is up with you suddenly becoming a porn director?!" I grumbled.

"I told you, it's because I miss you and I can only think about you when I jack off. But with this I can see us together and it will be so much more intense when I cum. I can see and hear how good I made you feel. The sounds you make are something else."

"O-oh…" My face flared up as I hadn't expected him to say all of that. "You are so lucky I love you more than anything. And I know you would raise hell if anybody else saw me like this. Fine, pull out."

I heard the beep of the video begin and covered my face as he moved. I felt his cum flow out of me, more so when I clenched my pelvic floor to push it out. He let out a deep moan of satisfaction and used his thumb and index finger to spread my lips apart, making me even more flustered. "Are you done yet?" I mumbled behind my hands.

"No." He dragged his fingers through his cum and nudged my hands away. "Open." I kept my eyes closed but opened my mouth, taking in his fingers that rubbed the bitter musk over my taste buds. He spread his fingers across my tongue, pinching it slightly before plunging to the back of my throat. I winced and moved my head away. The numbing spray had worn off and I wasn't into vomiting all over my boyfriend. He pulled away and stopped the third clip. "Damn."

I sat up and sighed. "Can you clean this up? I don't really wanna move."

"Yeah, I got you." I adjusted myself to lay down on my side of the bed while Johnny plugged his phone in to charge and gathered up the things we had made a mess on. I was already drifting into sleep, not even really caring about how sticky I was. "Is there anyway to clean a dildo without it feeling like you're jacking it off?!" I heard him call out from the bathroom.

"No!" I responded to his stupid question before turning my head away from the bathroom and falling asleep.

I woke up in the middle of my deep sleep after having the weirdest dream ever. I hated when I had dreams like that because I could never seem to get back to sleep until hours after. I sighed and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, pouting at my now awakened state. Johnny was spooning me, arm wrapped around my torso with his hand on one boob as usual. That I didn't mind that as much as i did his erection jabbing into my lower back. He was dead asleep too, I could tell by his snoring. How he managed to get hard while not even being awake, who knows. Maybe he was having a more pleasant dream that I had. But he needed to move if I wanted to be comfortable at all again.

I nudged my elbow against him and removed his arm from around me. "Johnny." I whispered. "Move over."

Nothing.

I sighed and whispered a little louder. "Johnny! Move over." I tapped his thigh, hoping to get his attention but all it did was make him grind into me. This man never stopped. "Johnathan. Please move."

He grumbled and nuzzled between my shoulder blades before pressing me onto my stomach. I huffed and turned my head to the side so the pillow wouldn't suffocate me. "Boy, if you don't get off me-" I gasped sharply as I felt him enter me, his head popping through instantly. "W-wrong hole!" I squeaked.

"Fuck...why is it so tight?" He rasped, voice still laced with sleep.

"You're in the wrong place!"

"Mhm-hm. It's where I wanna be."

Did he just…? Was he…? WHAT? "A-are you sure? You never liked this like ever be-" My words were taken from me as he sunk in deeper. I was still somewhat stretched out from him using the toy on me earlier but this was even heavier and thicker than that measly thing. He raised me to my knees and rubbed his hands all over my body.

"Was dreaming 'bout you."

"I-i can tell. U-um…" I was blushing hard as one of my fantasies with him was finally checked off the list. "Do you like it?"

"Not sure yet. Can I move?"

"Yes, please."

He pulled out slowly and sunk back in, testing the waters and gauging how we both felt. I was still in shock but craved more and I wondered what was going through his mind. Why did he have a sudden change of heart? Just wanted to explore? Maybe he liked what we had done earlier? Or perhaps he was doing it because he wanted to make something up to me, like leaving, in a way. Whatever it was this change of heart was giving me pleasure in a way no one had made me feel before. He held onto my hips tightly and soon I heard the familiar slapping of his hips against my ass. I closed my eyes again and let him take over and figure out what he liked and didn't like.

"Open your legs more."

My thighs already were still sore from earlier but I wiggled them apart as he pressed his hand firmly against my lower back. He wanted that deep feeling of being in my stomach and drawing moans out of me. It was one of my favorite things to do with him and it made my body tremble. "Baby...shit…" I mewled. "It's good. I told you it's good."

"Hmmm... Can I cum in here too?"

"Yeah, whatever you want. Do whatever you want to me, love."

"I like the sound of that." He pressed my hips back harder, slamming us together and taking me back to a whimpering mess. He reached over and clicked on the bedside table lamp. "Wanna see you." I didn't even protest and let him marvel in the way he was stretching my ass open. I was too wrapped up in how good it felt to even care. He pressed his chest to my back and nipped at my ear. "I wanna see you fuck yourself this time."

"A-ahh...with the dildo?"

"Yeah." He moaned against my ear. "Fast. And. Deep." He landed each word with harsh thrusts that I could feel in my stomach. I noticed he had set the clean toys on the bedside table and I reached out for the dildo, shuffling it between me and the bed. Johnny sunk his teeth down onto the back of my neck just as I pressed the toy into me. My favorite sensation was back and I was thrust into a place of bliss and heightened senses. He controlled the speed of my thrusts for a moment, making sure I knew how he wanted me to fuck myself. I almost couldn't take it but he made it even worse when I heard the whir of the small bullet vibe I had brought. It was deadly in his hands, especially since he kept it firmly against my clit. I wanted to crumble beneath his weight but he wrapped his arm around my waist and linked his ankles over mine so I couldn't move an inch. I was trapped beneath his big body, helpless and begging for my release.

"That's my babygirl. You're doing so good for me." He cooed. I buried my face into the pillow, blushing at his sweet words. I was already flustered and he was making it worse. "Do you wanna cum for me?"

"Y-yes daddy." I said meekly.

"I know, and I want you to squirt again. I want you to cum so hard. So sensitive and overstimulated that you collapse and cant take anymore. I want that."

He worked the bullet into small circles which made my toes dig into the sheets. His hand that was around my waist slid down to cover mine, controlling the speed of every single one of my pleasure points. With both his hands between my thighs and his cock stuffed inside me, I gripped the pillow between my teeth, clenching hard as my body came full force for the third time that night. I felt my cum flow over my thighs and his hands, pitter-pattering onto the mattress. My nails clawed at the walls as he let the dildo go but kept the vibrator on me, keeping up the relentless torture. I screamed a chaotic monologue of "Daddy! Please! Daddy please!!", begging for him to ease up on my sensitivity but he didn't. Instead his hips drove all the way home, pounding harshly and creating an infestation of tremors throughout my entire being. Finally, the bullet stopped and dropped by my knee.

Both of Johnny's hands were on my hips again as he chased his own orgasm, breathing hard in between growls and moans. I brought my hand to rest on his, squeezing my fingers against him tight. His cum rushed into me then, warming me like he had done before and making me feel absolutely full. He let me lower myself to the mattress and caved on top of me again, resting his head by mine. "Was us fucking always this amazing? I mean like yes but also like...this is some next level shit." He chuckled. "Eri?"

"I'm so tired, you asshole."

"Well I know your asshole is tired. Pretty much got plowed into oblivion."

"Uh, yeah, so...what was that about?" I asked curiously.

He huffed, trying to blow some of my curls away from his face. "I don't know...just...guess I should try stuff before I say I don't like it. I never found it sexy but your ass is perfect. It was like suffocating. Only with you babe."

"I feel so special. And also like I wanna die. I need to shower. I'm so sticky but I don't think I can move."

"I'll help you. Hold on." He slid out of me slowly, leaving my hole gaping and dripping with his cum. "Fuck…" he breathed. "I could watch that all day."

"Jooohhnnnyyyy!" I covered my head with the pillow, wanting to disappear forever every time he stared at my openings like that.

He tossed the pillow away and helped me sit up gently. "I just like teasing you."

My big pout didn't last long because he scooped me up in his arms bridal style and carried me to the bathroom. I held onto him tight, almost in disbelief. "Well damn daddy, just bench press me."

"Knowing you, you'd like that." He set me down gently in the shower and joined me before drawing the curtains and turning on the water. "I'm so glad you came, baby." He set his head on top of mine and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

"I am too. I just want to be with you. No matter what."

The next morning (or afternoon, I wasn't really sure) I woke up with almost every inch of my body aching. My ass hurt, my legs hurt, all the bite marks hurt, my throat hurt. Having sex with Johnny was like getting hit by a freight train and trying to pick yourself back up from the aftermath. On top of that I was so damn hungry. I rolled over slowly and hit an empty spot instead of the warmth I expected. I felt around, trying to figure out if I was missing something before opening my eyes. He wasn't there. I sat up and looked around, perplexed as to where he went. "Looking for me?"

My head swiveled when I heard his voice. He was coming out of the bathroom, pulling his shirt over his head. "How ya feeling?"

"Like death." I croaked. "Where did you go?"

"To get you breakfast and a chai latte to try and make your throat better. I got your favorite. Strawberry pancakes, eggs, sausage, and chicken nuggets."

"Fuck yeah, nuggies." I giggled a bit and reached out for the latte. I definitely needed it to soothe my throat.

He tossed off his jeans and brought the bag of food to sit between us. I curled up against him instantly and nuzzled his shoulder. "Let me guess, you want me to feed you?" I nodded and gave him puppy dog eyes. He rolled his own and opened the containers cutting up the pancakes and feeding them to me. "I wanted to take you out later on if you're up to it?"

I chewed a bit then swallowed. "Take me where?"

"Shopping and stuff. We've got big malls here. Figured you'd like all the makeup stuff."

"Oh yeah? You gonna be my sugar daddy or something?"

He scoffed as he ate one of the nuggets. "More like generic store brand sucrose father."

I laughed and kissed his cheek. "You know you don't have to buy me anything right?"

He shrugged. "You just seemed kinda disappointed in the hotel and my car…"

"Well...I am, I mean I was. I just expected you to have more since this was your big internship, you know?"

"Yeah...well I like my van. I can go wherever I want and not have to be tied down. I've traveled along the coast and to different cities already. It was like this place was made for me. There's so much to do here. It's better then our college town."

"Right…" I said rather sadly.

"Babe, you know I do miss you. I don't want to be away from you and that's not what im trying to say right?"

"I know...I know. Let's just not focus on that right now I guess."

"I still wanna take you shopping. Get you looking all cute and shit. I'll carry your bags and all that." He fed me another bite of pancakes. "Is that ok?"

I felt bad. I didn't want him to think that he had to do this for me, especially not spend money to make me feel happy. "Johnny, I'm sorry about the van and the motel. You don't have to buy me anything. I don't want to be a materialistic bitch. That doesn't matter to me. I can stay in bed with you all day."

"Shut up. We're doing it. It's not just shopping. I can show you around too. You have to at least do other stuff on your vacation than just fuck me. Even though I'm about it."

"Ok, ok, sucrose father." He gave me a laughter filled kiss which I returned with hidden intentions. I swiped my tongue along his bottom lip and cupped the back of his neck.

"Mhm...baby...you want something." He said, seeing through me instantly. "Aren't you sore?"

"Not all that." I eased my way into his lap "Just wanna warm you. That ok?"

"Hmm...only for a little bit."

I nodded and wrapped my arms around his neck, settling my center over him. He held me close too and guided my hips to grind smoothly over him. I avoided his lips so we both wouldn't get too worked up, just enough for him to nestle inside me and stay there for a little while. "Did you wanna do this this morning?"

"Yeah but you left." I pouted.

He swiped his thumb over my lip and I took it into my mouth, sucking gently. "I got you food didn't I? I made it up to you."

I laid my head on his shoulder while keeping his thumb in my mouth. I hummed a little response and lifted my hips for him to guide himself in. He pressed the head of his cock against my entrance and I sunk down slowly, wincing a bit at my tenderness but the feeling of him inside me made me all cozy and gushy with lovey feelings. Johnny scratched at my head gently and turned the TV on low, not minding me wanting to fall back asleep. "If you don't want to go shopping today, we can do it tomorrow. But my friends are also having a party tomorrow and I'd like it if you met them."

Blegh, socializing. Socializing with my boyfriend's friends. Socializing with people that weren't that great because he only had one good friend. I sighed internally and tried to gauge if I could really take in that much anxiety in one day. Probably not and I would be suffering the entire time but I would do it for him. I would do anything for him.

I squeezed Johnny's hand tightly as we walked up the stairs to this ridiculous baby mansion. I had never seen a house this huge before but I guess it's what happened when you were California dreamin'. There was way too many people already and I clung onto him tighter as my breath sped up. The music was way too loud and when I tried calling out to him he didn't hear me even though we we're right next to each other. So I continued to follow wordlessly as he did his social butterfly shit. He was saying hi to people he never mentioned to me and making his way through the crowd until he found a couch for us to sit on. He sat down and set me beside him, his arm loosely around my hips. About a dozen people were circled around us and a few people stared at me including this gorgeous girl who sent me a small smile. I straightened up a bit as I looked her over. She had beautiful skin, a little darker than mine, and braids going all the way down her back with some pink synthetic hair mixed in. She had the coolest punk vest on, all decked out in patches, studs, and distressing. I wanted to ask her about them but my social anxiety was making me shrink away.

Johnny didn't seem to notice our exchange at all. He was too busy laughing at something someone said before he got passed a joint. I rolled my eyes and propped my elbow on my knee, setting my chin in the palm of my hand. "You gonna be social or pout all night?" Johnny asked as he exhaled smoked.

I waved it away instantly. "I am being social, I'm here aren't I? Also you know I hate that stuff. Don't blow the smoke around me."

He rolled his eyes and took another hit before passing it onto the next person. "I would like you to at least talk a bit."

"And what you you like me to say Johnny? That I'd rather be in the hotel? Maybe grinding on you until you begged to be inside me? Do you want me to tell them that?" I was getting snippy because of this atmosphere. I never should've agreed to come but I didn't think it would be this bad.

"Don't be a smartass."

"I'm not. It's the truth."

He looked over at me and leaned in to whisper in my ear. "You need to behave and I mean it."

"Or what?" I challenged. "It's a lot for me to take in at once, ok? You of all people should fucking know how anxiety works."

"There's nothing to be anxious about. It's just a party. We gone to parties dozens of times. It's the same thing."

"It's not…" This was like some fashionista bullshit. Like high roller drugs and top tier liquor everywhere. All sorts of people dancing around through flashing lights and thumping music. It was overwhelming and I was uncomfortable seeing people snort coke off of tables or toss back unknown pills. I didn't know how Johnny could stand this either. This exact environment was the one that got him roped into trouble. I knew it affected him so why wasn't he showing it?

"Just chill and talk. These are my friends and it's important that everyone gets along."

And what if I don't like your friends? I wanted to scream. Why did I have to be friends with your friends? Were your friends the ones acting like fools and looking geeked out of their minds. I sure as hell would've thought you'd be smart enough to not be friends with them either. "Fine." Was all I actually said. "I will try."

Johnny turned away, releasing his arm from around my hips to distract himself with someone else. I was hurt that he seemed so intensely peeved about me feeling this way. He was acting brand new, as if I, as if HE, didn't have social anxiety. He handled his differently. He partied more and I got angry before I got drunk. I was in the angry phase currently. I was about to call it quits right then and there when some guy got close and asked me a question. "So you're Johnny's friend?"

"Friend?" I scoffed. "I don't think "friend" is the right term."

"Ohhhh, so like a fuck buddy thing?"

I was totally confused. Had Johnny not introduced me as his girlfriend? I looked over at him for a second, wondering if it was just a miscommunication error or something he blatantly didn't want people to know. "No, were not fuck buddies. We're together."

"Johnny never told us he had a girlfriend. Did you just start dating?"

I grit my teeth and tried my best to stay calm. What the hell? Why hadn't he told them? Did he want to feel single over here? Did he want to fuck other people while I was at home crying over him? I was fuming.

"Kylo, chill with the 20 questions bro." Johnny laughed. "We're just here to have a good time."

"Sorry! I was just curious! I mean, she is pretty cute after all." Kylo said with a wink in my direction.

Johnny just laughed. He didn't get into his usual jealous or dominating role. He fucking laughed. Who was he right now? We had just had three days of paradisal bliss and now at some party he changes into someone I don't know. I wanted to flirt with this Kylo guy to really test Johnny but I also wasn't in the mood for whatever karma would come of it. I crossed my arms over my chest and avoided them both. Instead my eyes landed on the beautiful girl who was chuckling. She mouthed something that looked like "he's wack" and nodded towards Johnny.

"That's for damn sure." I said in agreement. She laughed louder, a really sweet and airy sound. I loved it and could feel myself getting flustered. I didn't know why- well I did. It was because girls made me crumble to my knees faster than any man could. But I shouldn't have been acting this way. It just seemed wrong. Suddenly a shrill voice cut through the high strung atmosphere and before I knew it some girl was draped over Johnny's lap and kissing his cheek.

"Johnny!" She practically squealed. "I knew you'd be here!"

At first I was shocked. All I could really do was take in her incredibly expensive, diamond encrusted bracelets, her Yves Saint Laurent tiny purse, and her chanel sunglasses perched atop of overly processed blonde hair. She was just a little miss Paris hilton who was way too comfortable with my man. He let her hang onto him, even putting an arm around her shoulders. Was it really fucking social if I snapped someone's neck?

"Cassie, babe," He joked. "What are you on tonight?!"

"A little coke, a little molly. Just the usual combo."

"Ugh I fucking hate molly. Never again."

Yeah because that's what you took the night you got assaulted and now you're hanging out with someone who does this on the regular? Nothing made sense. Was he even thinking? Also, what was this 'babe' shit? I was the only one he called that!

"I know, I know! Don't worry. You can just have some Percocets and chill for the night. You're so wound up and tense!" She laid her head on his shoulder and looked up at him with doe eyes. I felt the rage building in my fist and I was dead set on punching her in her fucking designer face.

I pushed Johnny back against the couch and leaned into this chicks face, grabbing her shoulder roughly. "Hi I don't think we've met." I growled. "But you need to get your hands off my-"

She gasped, completely ignoring my anger and not taking me seriously. She reached out a manicured claw to try and touch my hair. "Your curls are so pretty! Oh my god! How do you get them to be so nice?! You know I tried a perm once and-"

I gripped her wrist and yanked her twig like arm away from my head. "Don't. Touch. My. Hair." It was the one thing I absolutely hated. Strangers weren't allowed to touch my hair. Barely anyone was allowed to touch my hair. It was my sacred crown that I took pride in and I'd be damned if little miss cokehead was going to touch it.

"Eri, what the fuck?" Johnny said harshly as he pulled her wrist from my grasp. I glared at him in disbelief. Was he actually defending her?

She rubbed her wrist and held onto him. "Johnny! Why is she being mean?!"

"Oh I'll fucking show you mean." I got up and made a grab for my gauges, ready to square up and get charged with assault. I gave zero fucks right now. I suddenly felt a hand gently wrap around my arm, tugging me away from the situation. "Come walk with me." The beautiful girl from before said. Since Johnny was too fucking busy coddling the bimbo I decided to go with her. I felt a sense of calmness when she touched me, like a connection had suddenly been formed. We moved away from the party altogether and made our way outside to pretentious garden area that was filled with dozens upon dozens of flowers and plants, with a fountain, swing set, and gazebo in the middle of it.

I was shaking, violently so. I dug my hand into my purse to pull out a cigarette from the carton. I set it between my lips and went to light it but I couldn't keep myself steady enough to ignite it. I was two seconds away from tossing the damn thing when she unfolded my tense fingers and took the lighter from me. She cupped her hand around the flame as it burst forth, making sure the wind wouldn't extinguish it as it caught the end of the cigarette.

"Thank you." I said as I took a deep drag.

She slipped the lighter back into my purse, so smoothly that I barely even noticed.

"So you're Johnny's girl?" She asked in a voice that was a bit husky contrary to her laugh.

"I guess barely! What the fuck is his problem? Who is that chick?! I swear to god! I'm about ready to slit her throat! Why didn't he tell anyone that I was-"

"Hey," she cupped my face gently and I instantly shut up. She smiled down at me and rubbed her thumb against my cheek. "Johnny's an idiot. All he does is hang out with Cassie's drugged up ass so he can score free drugs himself. Then Kylo's a fucking douche that gives him all these shrooms and shit. There's barely a time when were all hanging out that Johnny isn't high. Don't sweat him, chica. You could do way better."

"W-wait you mean he does this continuously? What does he take?" My heart suddenly halted from insane race car speed to devastating crash.

"So far I've seen him do shrooms, weed, percocet, acid. Maybe he does more. I'm not sure. But that's what I've seen."

Suddenly I didn't want to be here anymore. Not just at this party, but not in California and certainly not around him. He left me for drugs, a rusted van to live out of, and some bimbo that was making him an addict. "G-great...just what I need right now. That's exactly what I need right now. I came all the way here to try and make us better and he just makes everything worse. It felt so good before...what the fuck is happening."

"So dump him. What the fuck do you need a man for? Come over to the lesbian side, were much better." She teased.

"Oh," I looked up at her for a moment. "I mean, I'm not straight. I'm pretty gay, trust me." I said.

"But you're dating Johnny?"

"And? I'm still gay. Well queer. Honestly it would take me 87 years to explain my labels but the short version is I fuck anyone and I romantically want anyone. This time around it happened to be him."

"Ahh...well the invitation still stands to join us again. Start off with something way better than that jerk, honestly."

I raised an eyebrow and almost coughed on an inhale of smoke. "Are you like...flirting with me?"

"If it's working then yes, if it's not, then no." She smiled. "I'm Aaliyah by the way."

"I'm Eri...I haven't had someone flirt with me in awhile." I laughed a bit nervously. "I mean Johnny doesn't count."

"Nah, nothing he does counts…" We were quiet for a moment but I hated it because it kept me in my feelings. Thankfully she started back up again not long after. "So, you don't live in Cali do you?"

I shook my head. "I go to school on almost the other side of the country. Johnny graduated and took an internship here, got up and moved, and didn't really warn me. We've been rocky ever since. I thought it was getting a bit better. We didn't leave our hotel room for two days and I'm still sore but I guess sex can't fix anything. I mean I knew that but it kinda always did for us."

"Nah, it's just a bandaid for the problems. I would also recommend completely punching Cassie in the face."

"Why'd you stop me then?" I asked.

"Don't need another sis locked up in jail. Rather have you free and without a record. Trust me, I've wanted to deck her myself plenty of times. She thinks she's amazing because she's rich and can afford all this wack shit. She's got a big problem though. She's high on the daily and no one will get her to rehab."

"I can put her ass in a coma and then she'd really detox." I said as tapped out my ashes.

"Your hair is really beautiful by the way." She said, diverting my anger. "But you're not a damn poodle or something where she had to try and pet you." Aaliyah commented.

"Yeah, I get that all the time. Especially because my hair takes up space. I get old people staring at me, little bastard 13 year olds taking snapchats or whatever of me at the store, and white girls trying to touch me without permission. Can I get Solange Knowles in here please?"

"I know exactly how you feel, especially with my braids. Sometimes I just whip my head around real fast to hit someone with them and they can leave me alone."

I smiled and took another drag. "That's a mood. Why can't people understand personal space?"

"They think people like us were meant to be ogled at, ever since we got pushed onto podiums for sale in the slave trade."

"Ain't that a bitch." I sighed and didn't realize I was leaning in towards her until my shoulder brushed against her arm, which she put around my waist.

I left her arm there, not really sure of what I should do. She was really pretty and super cool but I was with Johnny though he was currently acting like an addict who didn't have a care in the world for me. A complete 180 since yesterday. I felt sad and angry all at the same time and really wish I had someone to comfort me since it felt like I was alone in this battle. "I'm sorry to kind of dump this on you. We just met and i'm telling you about all this bullshit with my boyfriend and-"

"Its fine. I wouldn't mind making you feel better. Just tell me what you need."

Ok, definitely flirting and maybe propositioning me for sex? She leaned in, setting both her hands on my waist, and smirking down at me. "U-uh...a drink would be nice. I like drinking."

"Yeah? I can do that for you. What do you like, babydoll?" Aaliyah said.

"Anything dark."

She smirked. "I could tell." She placed a kiss on my cheek that caught the corner of my mouth a little too closely. "I'll be back in a sec."

Aaliyah left then, retreating back inside the house and leaving me to sit on the swing set. I was trying hard not to cry. Iwnas even trying hard not to text Quinn. Hearing their "I told you so's" right now may not be for the best. Their anger would also trigger mine and I would end up as a giant mess. I snubbed the last of my cig into the ground and crushed it beneath my strappy sandal. What the hell was I going to do?

I wiped away the few tears that were starting to spill over. I wanted to go home now. I stared down at my phone and texted Johnny. I couldn't do this anymore. I couldn't pretend I was alright at this party now that I had all this newfound information about him. He needed to explain himself and I didn't want it to blow up into a big argument in front of total strangers. He didn't answer back right away, leaving me impatient and more anxious. Aaliyah came back then and handed me a plastic cup. "My special concoction. Drink up."

I tossed it back without another though but regretted it when I felt the sharpest and fiery burn. "Ughh fuck!" There was rarely a time where alcohol made me flinch but this was a disaster. "Jesus, woman, what the hell is in this?"

"Don't worry about it." She said, tipping the cup back again. "It'll get you buzzed easily." Well that was exactly what I needed. I wanted to get stupid drunk. Like walking disaster drunk but I didn't trust her enough yet to do so. "Better with a bit of alcohol in your system now, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess...I asked Johnny if we could just head out."

"You need a man's permission to go somewhere?"

"No, not like that. I mean he drove us here. I don't know my way around here. It's not permission, just...you know."

"Like I said, forget him. We can hang out and chill. Where do you wanna go, hm?"

I scooted a bit away from her, suddenly feeling that moment of calmness wash away. She was being way too friendly and flirty but... should I even try and make Johnny jealous? Would that even do any good? Everything was making me second guess myself. I just wanted everything to go back to being normal. Suddenly I felt her lips on mine which yanked me from my thoughts immediately. My eyes went wide and before I could even raise my hands to push her away I heard Johnny screaming my name. He had stormed over to the swing set and split Aaliyah and I apart. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

Before i could even answer Aaliyah butted in. "She can do whatever she wants."

"THEY don't need to kiss you and they sure as hell aren't going to sleep with you!"

Aaliyah rolled her eyes. "Well THEY seem to need a bit of loving since you'd rather be up Cassie's ass."

"That isn't true! Cassie's just clingy when she's high. It's nothing like that. Eri, get over here."

"You didn't even push her away…" I said. "You just let her hang onto you. You can go on being her druggie boyfriend if you want."

"What? What are you talking about?" Johnny asked, confused.

"You know exactly what I mean. Aaliyah told me about all the shit you're taking. You left me for drugs, some shit van, and partying all the time. Is that what you really wanted? To get away from me?"

Johnny glared at Aaliyah then looked at me. "Come here. We need to talk."

"I'd rather just drink." I whispered.

He tugged me towards him but Aaliyah yanked me back. "Let her go Johnny."

"No, you let them go! They're my girlfriend and we need to talk. Let go."

"Dont pull on me! Either of you!" I dropped both their hands and held my own close to me. "I'll just...i'll just go with him for now and maybe I can come back later or something?" I was giving her false hope of course, but some part of me, amidst confusion, did want to see her again.

She rolled her eyes and stuffed her hands in the pockets of her vest. "Yeah, sure."

Johnny grabbed onto my arm and pulled me away quickly, taking me back to his van. "What the hell are you talking about? Calling me a druggie?? What did she put in your head?"

"She didn't put anything in my head. You're smoking more weed, dropping acid, getting geeked? What the fuck johnny? You had come so far and you're just turning back to who you used to be."

"That's not true. Just because i've tried some stuff doesn't mean i'm a drug addict. How could you say that to me?"

"Because-!" I yelled. "I don't want to date someone like that. It's only time before you try something even harder then i have to find you in a tub with a needle in your arm!"

"Eri, what in the hell are you talking about?! I'm not planning on shooting up heroin or something!"

"Yeah, sure. You can get all you wanted from that stupid bimbo."

"Cassie's a cokehead. She just needs someone to help her." He argued.

"So taking drugs with her is the answer? What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing is wrong with me! Im only 24! I just want to have fun!"

"Well you can have fun without me! I came all this way to fix what we had and you don't care. You don't care at all. You didn't care about leaving me behind. You haven't even said one thing about your internship. You just...you wanted to get away from me. What did i do johnny? What did I do?" I was getting choked up and trying not to cry over him yet again.

"Eri, you didn't do anything. I want new experiences, I want to travel, I want to see the world. I don't want to be cooped up in a boring ass college town. I cant stay there waiting for you to graduate. I needed to do something and this was a good opportunity for me to get out."

"So if you wanted to leave why did you even fucking want me to be your girlfriend?! You said you wouldn't hurt me! You promised, johnny! You! Promised!"

"I'm not trying to hurt you! I just need you to let me spread my wings a bit. It's not like i don't want to be with you. I love you. So fucking much. I'm glad you're here. I want you to be with me."

"Why? So you can fuck me and then ignore me?"

"No! Because-" he sighed and ran his hand over his face. "Even though i want to explore you still keep me grounded. You keep me from going crazy."

"Not really since you're doing all these drugs and partying. How is that being grounded?"

"Why are you so focused on that?! I don't get it!

I slammed my fist against the side of his van. "When you find your fucking uncle overdosed in a bathtub when youre 7 you'll see that drugs arent fucking my thing. And if you try and kill youself in a bathtub you'll spend every second that you're cutting your wrist feeling just like him. Thats why im fucking focused on it Johnny. I didn't even like the fact that you were a pothead when I first met you. That you still are one! But i kept on. I looked past that because i saw you for who you were but i can't look past this."

"Fuck…" He stepped closer to me and I curled away, holding my stinging hand.

"Dont. Just dont…"

He grabbed a hold of me anyway and pulled me to his chest, giving me a hard squeeze. "Babe...i-"

"You called her babe." I snipped.

He exhaled deeply. "It just slipped."

"No it didnt. Dont add liar to your list."

"I'm sorry. I didn't think it was a big deal."

"You don't think anything is a big deal. Do you even want us to be together anymore? Tell me truthfully. Its only been 5 months, Johnny, almost a year if you want to count us fucking around." I shoved him away and glared up at him. "Tell me."

"I…" He pushed his hair back and looked away.

"Oohh!" I laughed as my voice cracked and tears started to fall. "So thats how its going to be? All that shit in the back of your car meant nothing then?"

"I didn't say anything!"

"Your hesitation said it all. Just…take me back to the hotel. I'll see if I can get an earlier flight to go back home."

"No, no, no! Please don't go back home. Eri, i want to be with you. I want to. I want to."

"You want to? Then fucking act like it, Johnny Suh. I dont have time for fucking little boys that want to play games. I want a real man that can own up to his shit and treats me like i'm important. I want my daddy to take care of me and make me feel safe, not make me have to worry about what he's doing states away."

He leaned down and set his forehead against mine. "I want to make you feel all that. Just dont leave yet. I can't have you leave. Will you stay?"

"I don't know. Just take me home. And don't ever bring me to one of his high roller Beverly Hills movie ass parties again. Ever. I mean it."

"I won't, baby." He took my sore hand in his and rubbed his thumb over my knuckles, giving it a gentle massage. "Let’s go back." I got in and crossed my arms over my chest, staring out the window. He got in as well and started up the engine, beginning the semi lengthy drive back. He tried reaching over to set his hand on my leg but I pulled away. "Please don't be like this…"

"Like what? Pissed off?"

"No I mean...just like let me at least try and make it up to you."

"How you gonna do that? Hmm? You would have a hell of a lot of making up to do."

"Let me try. It's the least I can do."

"Fine. Whatever."

We stayed quiet and I closed my eyes, wishing that this whole trip was over. A few tears were still falling down and I left them there, wanting him to see the suffering he caused me. I sniffed a bit and tried not to turn my breath into a hyperventilating mess. The drive seemed too short for us to be at the hotel and when I opened my eyes I saw we had arrived at a beach. Beaches seemed to just pop up whenever you needed them here. I liked that at least about this place. Everything was deserted and the end of the parking area matched up almost perfectly to the sand. "Did I say take me here?" I snapped.

"I know it's not the hotel but I know the beach is your favorite place to be. I’ve messed it up at that beach party last year, and I messed up tonight's party so I was hoping that maybe this would work.”

"Yeah, you messed up the beach. The literal place that is my sanctuary and make me feel close to home. Good job."

He shut off the engine and crawled into the back of the van, opening the back doors. "Can you come here?"

I looked back at him. "What for?"

"Just come." He extended his hand and I reluctantly crawled around the back seat to sit on his mattress, both our legs dangling over the edge. Outside I could see the stars much clearer and the sea breeze was crisp against the overwhelming heat of California. I was thankful to not sweat at least for a moment. "I never meant to hurt you or make you cry, Eri. It wasn't my intention at all. You mean the world to me but we're so intense it can be overwhelming sometimes. And it is true. I did want to get out of our stupid college town. It had nothing to do with you but rather with me being sick of that fucking place. I've been there for years and it drove me crazy. It wasn't to run away from you."

"The internship in of itself," he continued. "Is not exactly what I wanted it to be. I get assignments and stuff but it isn't the exciting stuff I want to do. Mostly I'm in the office doing desk shit and editing photos. I don't mind the editing I just," he shrugged. "It's not thrilling but it'll look good on my resume in the future. As for the drugs...I'm sorry about your uncle, I really am. I'm sorry about how that affected you when you tried to commit suicide. I don't make good decisions. I never really have. Drugs are like my escape. It's nice not to think about shit sometimes. I don't do it nearly as much as Aaliyah made it out to be-which by the way she definitely wanted to fuck you."

"Oh, I know."

"Were you...gonna do it?"

"You're asking me if I was gonna cheat on you?"

"I don't know...I don't think you would've but I know you basically hate me…"

I rolled my eyes. "I don't hate you. Don't be a damn baby. I wasn't going to fuck her. If she tried anything I would've shoved her away just like any man. I want my boyfriend. I just felt lonely. I wanted some comfort…"

He pulled me closer to him and set my head on his chest. "I want you to feel safe. I want you to feel like I love you. I want you to tell me anything and everything. I'm there for you and I fucked up...if you want me to, I can stop doing drugs. Maybe not weed-i got my med card here- but everything else I can."

I sighed and wiped away the leftover tears. "I'm just scared. I've had that feeling since I was a kid. You said you wouldn't do something harder but that's what they all say. Then it gets worse and worse. I was really close to him. He and my mom got into a lot of fights but he cared about me. I didn't know it was bad, I mean, I was just a kid. How was I supposed to know what drugs were? I don't want you to end up like that. I know it seems impossible but it just...haunts me."

He kissed the top of my head and took my wrist in his hand gently. His thumb rubbed over the scar that I tried to hide with tattoos. I never thought he noticed. Maybe he had noticed all my scars. I had tried to tattoo over them all but some were fresher than others. "I can see why and I don't blame you. If I stop taking drugs will you stop drinking? We can get sober together…"

"I can try…" I sad rather sadly and unconfident.

"How much do you drink a day?"

"Never enough to get drunk but a buzz is fine. Couple ales or wine coolers, maybe a bit of brown liquor. Like a fifth of the bottle? Whole bottle lasts me about 5 days or so."

"Christ…"

"Guess I'm a hypocrite, huh?" I came to that pathetic realization all too late.

"No. I don't have that trauma that you do, seeing your uncle and all. But that doesn't mean that I want to lose you to drinking either. Do you still go to therapy?"

"Yeah and get my meds changed but it's been a little...bit worse since you left. Not that I want to put that on you but it's just been happening."

"You can take one of my shirts back if you want. I know it's not much but I know you like them."

I nodded and clung to him, not sure if I completely forgave him but finally feeling like we were at least connecting again. "Do you still sleep with the rillakuma?"

"Of course. I have to now." He chuckled lightheartedly. "It's just as comforting to me as my shirts are to you."

"I sleep in your hoodies sometimes too. They're nice and roomy."

"Yeah I know. You basically have them all." He nudged his face against mine, playfully but also ended up connecting our lips. He paused after we separated but kept his close distance. "Do you forgive me?"

"I don't know yet. I feel a lot of things right now. Maybe I just need some time to think."

"Oh…" He sounded extremely disappointed. "Do you still want to go home?"

"I think I would want to spend a few more nights with you…" I squeezed his hand lightly.

"Thank you. I really want that. I promise to make this trip worthwhile."

"Well...the sex was pretty good at least. My ass still kind of hurts though."

"It was...phew..uh…" He wiped his other hand on his jeans and I saw his cheeks flush.

"You can admit you like anal now, you know."

"I'm on the fence, okay? Let's just leave it at that."

"Mhm...sure."

"Do you want to watch the stars with me?" He asked suddenly. That was a pretty sweet gesture I had to admit. Something straight out of a cheesy romance movie but still sweet nonetheless.

"Yeah, that sounds nice actually."

He scooted back onto the mattress and took off his shoes, tossing them over the back seat. I did the same with my sandals and we both leaned back onto the pillows, looking out into the night sky that was littered with bright white orbs. We didn't say much, just relaxed beneath the moon, hearing the waves lapping at the Earth. Johnny set a soft playlist to play on his phone and kept it beside him, adding something to fill the otherwise silent space between us. I closed my eyes and focused on letting myself go, trying to make my heart less heavy and remind myself why I fell in love with him in the first place. That was when I felt his pinky lock with mine. Memories came flooding back; every time he made me laugh, the hurt we had been through, all the trust that I gave him and no one else. There was so much invested in us. I had no idea if I really wanted to let it go.

He was humming now, softly, strumming his fingers against his chest to the beat. When I looked over I saw that his eyes were closed as well and I wondered what he was thinking about. "Johnny?"

"Yes?"

"What are you thinking about?"

"What am I going to do after this internship is over. I don't know where I want to go. Maybe try and find some jobs in Chicago, maybe New York, cities where I can expand and maybe do a lot more."

"Do you want us to be long distance?"

"Not particularly, no. But I know you want to finish school. That's important. You're not going to quit just because you want to follow me around the world. Maybe when next summer rolls around and you graduate you can come travel with me."

"Do you think we can really be together for a whole other year?"

"Yeah. Don't you?" He asked.

"Yeah...I do." I squeezed his pinky tighter. "I do want to be with you Johnny. For a long long time."

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sirpibbles-blog · 5 years

Text

A Little Surprise Habit/Reader Fic

A long overdue request for Habit and a pregnant reader. Sorry it’s an afab reader because science hasn’t progressed far enough yet. Uh kinda took the idea and ran with it so sorry if it’s not what you all had in mind. Finished this after consuming 1/3 cup of raw coffee grounds because I thought it would help me focus.(I just got really sick because i’m STUPID). So If there are a ton of errors you know why. k im gonna go throw up now. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm pregnant."

Nothing could have prepared him for this. Nothing. Habit's body was stiff and unmoving, save for his eyes, brimming with emotion. There was too much to process. Too much to unpack within your simple words. A surge of a hundred different emotions coursed through his head in a matter of seconds. Is this real? A joke? Was he dreaming?

The two of you had merely been savoring the early morning in each other's arms. There was a calming silence, interlaced with the sprinkling of pillow talk here and there. A regular morning you shared together. Not once in a hundred years would Boris ever guess what you revealed to him. It was a nearly impossible task to place his feelings. But there was nothing disdainful in his heart, no, far from it. He was left with strong traces of what he guessed were shock, endearment, and anxiety. As fast as the love bubbled up in his chest, a foreboding shroud of doubt beat it down. He was happy, truly, overwhelmingly euphoric. And yet, Boris found himself to be completely and utterly terrified. There was going to be a baby. His baby.

The dentist's contemplation was cut short by your shaky voice. “Are you okay..?" Boris tilted his head down to meet your eyes. Your expression was etched with fear and wavering uncertainty. It was clear that this wasn't the reaction you had anticipated from your lover. In truth, you didn't know what you expected. But now, your heart was screaming for something. Something good, any kind of indication that he was happy...Any sign that you did the right thing.

"We ar Going to have A baby.." Your lover's voice came out in a whisper. There were too many things going through his mind at once. Too much he wanted to tell you, but lacked the words to say. Boris was stuck, fumbling through simple phrases. "..How long..?" The dryness in his throat was subsiding and Boris could feel his limbs slowly regain their strength. "About six weeks." Your voice grew steadily more confident. Boris was talking now, it was a good sign. He wasn't upset, you knew that much. But the doctor's face still showed no indication of anything but numb shock. “..We ar going To have a Baby..” Boris repeated as if convincing himself this was real. The words felt foreign on his tongue, but not unwelcome.

Your anxiety and anticipation began to dwell on the man. Boris knew he had to say something more. Something to ease your worried mind. He took a moment to compose a false bravado. “(Y/n), I love You.. I love this. And we’ve Been to-gether Long enuff for me to know, you ar Never rong..But-” Boris paused with a shaky breath. “-is this what you really want?” Despite the man’s feeble attempts to stay together, his facade was crumbling before your eyes. “Do you reelly Want to rayse a Child with this.. pathetic, Poor excuse of a man… with me?” The last words came out in a hoarse whisper.

There was a pause of silence. The air was heavy now, almost suffocating the doctor to death. It was your turn to say something, anything. Boris could feel his mind cry out for you to reject him. Realize your mistakes and run while you can. Find someone new and start a family, a real family. The seconds of silence had seemed like an eternity before you spoke up. “Doctor Boris Habit, why would you ever think for a second that I wouldn’t want to start a family with you? I know we haven’t been together long, but I can’t imagine myself ever loving another man.” Your hand moved to trace his cheek, gently tilting his gaze to meet your eyes. “Please.. Stay with me.” You both didn’t bother to stop yourselves from the oncoming tears threatening to spill over. “(Y/n), My flower, I Pro-mise, no matter what, That I will make you Smile.” Boris clasped his hands around yours, practically consuming them with his size. “And this baby.. Our baby, I will do every-thing in My power to make Them happy too.” With the last of his words, Boris took your lips against his own, passionate, yet gentle.

It didn't take long before Boris found himself warming up to the idea of starting a family. The ever-present fear and anxieties slowly dulled as the months progressed.

Even though Boris seems confident most days, his panic seemingly came back in waves. It become increasingly easier for Boris to admit how he feels. He tells you of his many insecurities and doubts in a long, well-deserved cuddle session. Of course, you let him know how confident you are in his potential to be an amazing father. And your trust in the man greatly increases his own self-confidence every time.

It doesn't surprise you at all when Boris starts preparing for the baby with immense enthusiasm and care. The first month in, countless educational books and pamphlets are strewn about his study. Boris wants to be able to be there for you completely, so he puts every free hour he has into reading. Preparing for the best, and worst.

The designated nursery will be completely transformed. You both spend a weekend moving boxes out of the previous storage room. By the time you’re done, the empty room is ready for a makeover. The barren, white walls call to your lover, beckoning his inner artist. It doesn’t come as a surprise at all when after a long day of work, you come home to find Boris plastered with paint from head to toe. The baby’s room becomes his canvas for the next few weeks. And in your spare time, you join in painting with the doctor as well. There’s no better pass-time than painting alongside your dearest dentist. A vibrant cacophony of flora align the walls. Flowers of various types and sizes pepper the nursery, their pastel hues reflecting in the morning light. It’s the most ambitious and passionate masterpiece Boris has had the pleasure of creating, with you by his side.

In your later months, mobility becomes strenuous. The once effortless, domestic chores now seemed more demanding than ever. The moment Boris picks up on your impaired movement, you can say goodbye to any and all responsibilities.

Habit’s new favorite method of relieving stress after a long day is to rest his head on your lap. He loves just basking in your warmth and love as you run your hands through his mess of hair. You’ll feel his large hands and face press gently against your stomach. Boris mostly spends this time in quiet admiration, although sometimes you swear you can hear him murmur affectionate nothings to your belly. It’s not uncommon for the two of you to fall asleep like this, and it isn’t unwelcome either.

Every night since your reveal, Boris spends nights clinging to your body far more desperately than before, as if you’d disappear the moment he’d let go. Boris will fight against his own exhaustion until you fall asleep first. He needs to know you’re at peace before letting himself rest. This pregnancy has made him far more paranoid, yet excited. When Boris thinks you’ve fallen asleep, you can always hear him whispering, talking to your baby. The words are always short, but they melt your heart every time. The most common conversations you’ll hear are of his hopes and fears, phrases such as, “I promise you’ll never frown” and “Please don’t be disappointed in your father”.

The child’s gender truly doesn’t matter to Boris. After reading all the possible complications, everything that can go wrong, he just wants them to be healthy. Okay, so maybe he’s a little paranoid. Every scheduled trip to the hospital results in a million questions being asked. And even though his questions are answered, and nothing seems out of place, Boris can’t help but feel uneasy. He can’t be sure until the waiting is over. The nine, agonizing months of waiting.

At the glorious, painful end of the pregnancy, He’s by your side. Hell, in labor, Boris is almost more of a panicked wreck than you are. He can’t help it, being so utterly terrified and excited at the same time. It’s a grueling few hours. Sounds of pain, fear, and crying fill the room. It finally all comes to an end when the shrill cry from a tiny set of lungs breaks the tension.

It’s nothing but crying after that. From you, from the baby, and especially from Boris. Finally, after nine months of stress and fear, the two of you are at peace. One look at this child’s tiny, fragile body and every fear Boris once had towards being able to take care of his new family is completely shattered. He feels an overwhelming urge to protect this new life, this life you’ve both created. For once since your reveal to him, Boris truly feels he is enough to be with you, with his family.

#Dr.Habit #boris habit #x reader #smile for me #writing

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mentalmimosa · 5 years

Text

sway me close, sway me now (part vi)

Previous installments here: archiveofourown.org/works/18961441/chapters/45020587

In the morning, there were eggs and bacon for breakfast. And a telephone borne in on a silver tray.

“Good morning!” Mr. Stark boomed, his voice coffee-fed clear. “You slept well, I see, or so the clock tells me. I asked Jarvis to ring me when you were up."

“I’m sorry,” Steve said sheepishly. It didn't seem appropriate to say it's because the thought of you made me toss and turn the whole night. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”

Mr. Stark laughed. “Don’t apologize. It’s delightful. Some days, I’d kill for a leisurely morning. But it never seems like quite the right time.”

Steve’s mind--up and until now still half asleep--took the bait and ran with it and in an instant suggested a half dozen different ways that Steve might keep Mr. Stark snug in bed. He blushed over his scrambled eggs and knocked over the salt and Mr. Stark wasn’t even here, for crying out loud. He was worse than a schoolkid with a crush.

“Don’t take too long with your breakfast though. You have a busy day ahead.”

“I do?”

“Yes,” Mr. Stark said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve laid it all out for you.”

First, a trip to the tailor: “Try on anything you like. They’ll have some things pulled per my suggestions, but don’t treat that as a limitation, all right?”

Then, lunch alone at some place Steve had never heard of: Samara’s at West and 59th.

“You’ll be dining on my dollar,” Mr. Stark said. Steve could hear the glee in his voice. “I made the reservation myself, not at all subtly. It’s under your name. Mr. Rogers.”

Finally, a blank check at Lindsey’s in the Village, the finest art supply store in the five boroughs.

“I hope it goes without saying that you should get whatever you want. Just give them my name. Oh, and if there’s anything that won’t fit in the car--or that’s too heavy for my dear dusty Jarvis to lift--then ask them to wrap it and send it over later today."

“Um,” Steve said into the receiver. Lord, this was a surreal way to start the morning, especially when it was already practically noon. “I mean, thank you. It’s really nice of you do all this for me.”

“Mmmm.” A self-satisfied sound, one that reminded him of their kiss, of the hum of Mr. Stark’s lips against his, right there at that very table. “Is it?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it’s the honey, my boy, the kind that precedes the vinegar. We’ve been invited to a supper party on Saturday."

Steve choked on his bacon, coughed hard into his napkin. Managed: “We--we have? But how did they know that we--?”

“Ah, no. Not your by name.” He heard Mr. Stark shuffling paper. “The invitation is addressed, and I quote, to Mr. Anthony Stark and Guest. That would be you.”

“Oh.”

“So, before I can show you off the world, Steve, we have to prepare to act like we know each other, yes?”

“How do you mean?”

“That,” Mr. Stark said playfully, “is for me to know and you to find out. Later, over drinks. I have a dinner meeting that I can’t break and if my last engagement with the senator is any predictor, I won’t be home until after 10. Think you can stay awake for me?”

Steve’s grip on the receiver went tight. God, did Mr. Stark know what he sounded like? Was he deliberately teasing, or was this how he spoke to all his overnight guests? Or to anybody for whom he bought clothes?

He cleared his throat, decided to give as good as he got. “For you, Mr. Stark, I’ll certainly try.”

He could hear Mr. Stark smile. “And that, surely, is all I can ask.”

*****

The suits were too much. The shirts, too. The shoes were simply over the top; what man needed five pairs? But if he had orders, the tailor and his minions did, too, and when he tried to back away, they got rather insistent. So five pairs of shoes it was.

Lunch was exquisite. He wanted to marry the appetizer: dates fried with bacon. And simple as the entree was--steak and browned potatoes--it was so good he wanted to weep. Everyone else in the place, though, seemed to take it in stride. The lady draped in sable at the next table even complained to the waiter about the state of her (perfectly lovely looking) salad and good lord, Steve thought from behind his third role, I hope I never get that jaded.

But Lindsey’s--walking into Lindsey’s with a carte blanche was a dream. He’d been inside a half dozen times before, staring with big eyes at the top quality oils that cost more than his rent, the fine brushes on which he’d have gladly spent every dime. But easing down the cheerfully stocked aisles knowing he could pick up whatever he wanted made the whole place look different and it felt, he thought, running his fingers over tightly-stretched canvas, like he’d never really seen it before.

“Ah, you’re Mr. Rogers!” the salesgirl said when he made it to the counter and fumbled over Mr. Stark’s name. She looked down at the reasonably-sized pile of paints he’d just dumped before her. “Is this all?”

It took three more trips to the shelves and another besweatered co-ed to wrap all the stuff up as the first banged on the register before the ladies of Lindsey’s would let him leave.

“Anthony Stark?” Steve heard one say to the other as he pushed onto the sidewalk. “Who the heck is that, besides some rich cat?”

“A rich cat,” the other one said, frankly, “who managed to land himself that.”

“Mr. Rogers?” Jarvis said politely once the bags were in the trunk and they were back again in Mr. Stark’s long, black town car. “Is there anywhere else you wish to go this afternoon? I’m happy to accomodate you.”

Steve leaned his head back against the leather seat and breathed and realized was beat all of a sudden, the weight of the day, its weirdness, dropping over his shoulders like a soaked winter coat.

He smiled a little at Jarvis in the mirror. “Thank you, no. I’m fine.”

Jarvis bowed his head a bit and turned the key. “Very good, sir. I shall take you home, then.” Home, Steve thought as he tipped his temple to the window. His lips found a smile as the sidewalks slid by. I guess it is, for now. Huh.

#stony #silver fox tony #fake relationship #sugar baby steve

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butterygalaxies · 6 years

Text

the detention room: part two

Title: The Detention Room (Read part one under posts tagged “the detention room”)

AN: Part One is tagged as “the detention room”. still based off of a prompt by @psych-kitten

Word Count: 1266

Ship: Clem x Louis

“Where have you been?”

Clementine brushes past Lee. She can practically feel him bristling with irritation and worry. “I was out with some friends.” The lie rolls off her tongue easily. She knows how to make it sound real. Keep your tone light, but not too light. Look him straight in the eye and don’t blink or sweat.

“With some friends? I thought you said you hadn’t made any yet.” Uncle Lee blocks her path, his broad shoulders filling up the doorway.

“Well, I have. Just today.”

“That’s great, Clem. Why don’t you tell me their names? I’d like to call their parents.”

She scowls, getting the feeling that she’s being backed into a corner. “What’s your problem, Lee? I come home an hour late, so what? I’m not a little kid anymore. I can take care of myself.”

Her uncle’s face tightens. “Sweet pea-”

“I’m not six years old. Don’t call me that.” She avoids his gaze on purpose and moves into the living room of their shitty little apartment. She hates this place. She hates the peeling paint and the crusty rugs and the pokey springs of the mattress she sleeps on, and it makes her miss her two-story house back in Savannah more than she already does.

She takes her canvas bag off and dumps it on the couch. She forgot to zip it before she left and half of the contents sprawl out against the faux-leather cushions. A half-drunk bottle of Gatorade. A spiral notebook, bent at the center. A moldy apple from lunch.

“Someone’s all grown up.” Lee’s teasing her. She hates that. She wants him to get angry, to scream, to do anything besides stay calm.

“Shut up, okay?” Get him riled up. Get him to yell at you and send you to your room, where you can lock the door and cry into your pillow.

He doesn’t yell. “Clementine, I just want to know where you were. That’s all I want to know.”

Her vision’s all smudgy, like when she wakes up in the morning and her eyes are gritty from sleep. “I was at detention, okay?”

“Detention? That’s it? Why didn’t you tell me?”

She shrugs haplessly. “I didn’t want you to get mad at me.” She risks a look at his face. He doesn’t look mad. He looks tired and old.

“I’m not-” he cuts himself off. “I’m certainly not happy now.” He looks at her for a long moment. “Clem, go to your room, all right?”

Finally. She nods, her chin poking into her chest. She bends down and scoops her pack off of the couch and heads down the short hallway to her bedroom.

If it can even be called a room. Her old room back in Savannah was painted a soft coral. The queen-sized bed had thick, fluffy comforters and she’d had a ceiling chandelier. The only paint here is the drab, vomit-colored yellow of the walls. She doesn’t even have a comforter, and there certainly isn’t a chandelier.

She knows her uncle is doing all he can. He’s had it hard as she has, maybe even worse since he went to jail. ( The conviction happened when she was seven or eight; she still doesn’t know all the details of the case but she’s aware that it involved an unfaithful ex-wife and a senator.)

When he’d been released he’d lost his job at the university and started working part-time as a janitor for the middle school. The minor wages hadn’t been enough to support him, so he’d moved to the outer edges of the city, where rent was more cheap.

He’d been more than kind to take Clem in after they lost her mom, and she knows it.

But still. Still. She misses her vanity and bathrooms that aren’t grimy and pipes that don’t rattle when the AC comes on and a kiss on the forehead from her mom before bedtime. She misses the normal of it all.

She sits cross-legged on her floor mattress, hands folded in her lap. The springs dig into her butt. The tepid summer air clings to her like a second skin.

From inside her backpack her phone goes off. She reaches over and fumbles with the zipper, finding her iPhone. The screen is lit up with a phone call. She doesn’t know the number and almost takes it for a crank call until she remembers the guy from detention.

Fine. She’ll give him a chance. She doubts he’s interested in her, at least not in that way. If a guy likes you, they don’t start out with calls, right? Isn’t that too forward?

She swipes up and talks first. “Leo, right?”

Heavy pause. “Uh, it’s Louis.” Shit. She either looks like a jerk or an idiot. She can’t decide which one she prefers.

“I knew that,” she says quickly. “Uh, do you need help with your homework?”

Another beat goes by. “What?”

“The note. You said you’d call me if you needed help with history.” Maybe he’s an idiot too.

“Yeah, of course.” Louis clears his throat. “Uh, not right now. I actually meant to call Marlon, I just accidentally put your number in.”

Smooth. Real smooth. She’s met puddles of water with better flirting techniques.

“Understandable.” She gets up and presses the lock shut on her door, pausing to hear the grinding click before lying back down on her mattress, staring up at the ceiling. There’s some water damage up there; the paint’s peeling off in interesting places and there’s one blob of exposed wall that looks a bit like North America.

She can hear him swallow - no, gulp. The poor guy must be freaked out. “So, when you’d move here?”

Easy question. “Two weeks ago.”

“Oh. Where’d you use to live?”

What’s with the interrogation? “Savannah.” She pretty much knows what’s coming next so she answers his impeding question herself. “We lost my mom a little while ago to cancer. My dad’s trying to get back on his feet. I’m just staying here until then.”

She hears some breathing on the other end. “I’m sorry.” It doesn’t sound as artificial as the apologies she’s received thus far - I’m sorry, so sorry, you must be having such a hard time - but it’s not a hundred percent genuine.

“It’s fine.”

“Not really. I can’t imagine losing my mom.” A vice squeezes tightly on Clem’s chest. “I bet you can’t.” She realizes how that sounds. “Oh, shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a jerk.”

“It’s fine.” Now he’s the one accepting an apology.

The fluorescent lightbulb, hanging seemingly by a single wire thread, suspended from the ceiling - just like in the old westerns - crackles and blinks.

“Seriously, though, I’m sorry. That’s gotta suck.”

“It’s okay.”

“Maybe I’ll call you later?”

No, she doesn’t want later. She wants to keep talking, to pretend that everything’s normal and she’s a normal girl talking to an equally normal boy.

“I need help,” she blurts, and reaches over to dig for her textbook.

“For what?”

“You’re dense, aren’t you? For history.” She hears a breathy sigh on the other end. “Oh, yeah.” Rustling. The sound of the phone being dropped and a nasty cracking sound and someone hissing shit! Clem almost smiles.

And then he starts talking about Rome and something about Germanic invasions and the crumbling of the greatest empire in a millennium but she’s not really listening to that crap. She’s listening to his voice, and memorizing the smile in the sound and she takes that and puts it somewhere secure, someplace she can’t quite identify.

Not yet, anyways.

#louisentine #louisentine fanfic #clouis #twd #twdg #twd fanfic #twdg fanfic #clementine twdg #louis twdg #clem twd #louis twd #the detention room

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thedepthsremember · 6 years

Text

Maxwell x MC (Riley)

Fill for a prompt from @nazari-oh! This was an idea I’d had vaguely floating around for a bit, so thanks for kicking me into actually writing it. [AO3]

---

Maxwell returns from Ramsford late in the afternoon. Normally Riley would have gone along, since neither were exactly happy about being apart for the longest amount of time (two whole days!) since, well, they’d met, but they had just gotten excited and bought a bunch of paint to redo a few rooms in themed colors, and when it came down to it, they decided at least one of them had to be there to personally execute their vision.

Anyway, he was back now, and was currently wandering the halls in a desperate search for his wife (his wife! Still a wild concept), who wasn’t in any of the places he’d expected her to be.

He was just about to give up on surprising her and pull out his phone to call her when he turned down a new corridor and found a door open to a room they didn’t normally use. When they’d returned after the wedding and run around deciding what rooms would be for guests or kittens or wall-to-wall pillows, Riley had fallen in love with this room on first sight, quietly requesting it remain unused for now. It was a medium-sized sitting room, its biggest feature the floor to ceiling windows that let in plenty of light. He’d been crazy curious, but she’d promised to explain once she’d figured it out herself.

He pokes his head in to find his wife seated in front of an easel.

“Hey! There you are--”

There’s an unholy shriek and the next thing he knows, whatever she’d been holding is flying towards him with great speed. Fumbling, he eventually manages to catch it, but not without getting his hands and shirt splattered in… green paint. He’s holding a paintbrush.

He looks up at Riley, bewildered. She has her hands clasped to her mouth and is staring at him, eyes comically wide.

Luckily, Maxwell Beaumont has had much stranger things thrown his way with even less preamble. “So,” he begins, attempting to wipe the paint off. “Last you told me, you were repainting the ball pit room?” It’s just smearing all over his arms. He gives up. “Now I’m no artist, but I am at least 87% sure that means the paint belongs on the wall, not on me.”

She crosses the room to him, looking sheepish. “I am so sorry…”

“...Or on your face,” he laughs, using the back of his hand to scrub at the multicolored smears she’d left across her jaw.

She shakes her head, trying not to smile. “Aw, geez… Don’t bother. It’s oil paint, it’s not going anywhere.”

“Well--” he gestures to his splattered shirt “--at least I’m not alone.”

She eyes him up and down, then finally laughs, hands starting back towards her face before he catches them.

“Alright, what’s going on? You’re painting again?”

Hesitating, she throws a glance back towards the easel, biting her lip. “Yyyeah.”

“That’s great!” She smiles, ducking her head, and it finally registers that she’s being… shy. It’s adorable, but he can’t remember the last time he saw this mood. “We’ve been texting all day, I can’t believe you kept it a secret!”

She makes a move as if going back to her face again, but he’s still holding her hands, so she starts fiddling with his fingers instead. “I’ve been wanting to try again for a while, but I didn’t want to make a big thing about it, in case… it didn’t work.” She’s started blending colors from her hand to his in some very pretty combinations. Huh. Maybe that color would work in the kitten room…

Focus, Maxwell! “Hey, I’ve seen some of your old stuff, you were good! Why would you worry about that?”

“Ohhh no.” She glares at him. “You found my Instagram, didn’t you?”

He grins. “Yes, I did. You really like boats, huh?”

She rolls her eyes, but he can see a hint of a smile. “Ugh, stalker.”

He shrugs, unperturbed. “Hey, I wasn’t going to bring you here without doing some kind of googling! Patented Maxwell Beaumont background check: As much as people try to pretend, social media always shows your real self to those who know how to look.”

For some reason, she looks pleased. “So… let me get this straight, the night we met, you went home and spent the rest of the evening cyberstalking me?”

He opens and shuts his mouth several times. “Whoa, okay, I mean…”

Her grin spreads mischievously. “You liiiiked me.”

“You -- Wait. You’re trying to distract me!”

“What? No!” She gets on her tiptoes to lean in close, and if he wasn’t sure before, he is now. “Let’s just talk more about how pretty you thought I was.”

“Okay, that’s not fair, you know that’s like my third favorite thing to do.” He does plant a kiss on her lips before putting a finger over them, delicately pushing her face back. “Come on Riles, talk to me.”

Her shoulders slump. “Alright…” She walks over to pull something out of one of the bags sitting around the easel and returns waving a bar of soap. “It’s gritty! Works wonders.” She takes his hand, pulling him towards the door. “Let’s go get cleaned up, and we can talk.”

With one last glance towards the painting he still can’t quite see, he follows her out of the room.

----

A few minutes later, they’re in his favorite bathroom, their outer clothes given to the staff along with Riley’s best tips for how to get oil paint out of fabric.

Riley dips a finger in the green paint still smeared across his forearms and pokes a couple blobs onto the hippo’s head. “And now he’s Bob Ross!”

“Who knew he was hiding such talents this whole time?”

She smiles and begins unwrapping the soap bar. “Come here.”

She runs it under the sink and begins rubbing it along his arms. It’s scratchy. “This is going to be very exfoliating,” he comments.

Her mouth quirks up, but she otherwise stays focused on her task. “So I was down in the ball pit room, painting one of the walls, and I guess I just missed it, you know? I mean, painting a wall isn’t much like canvas, but it’s the first thing I’ve really done in years, and… Anyway, I finished up that one wall and ran out to the store. Spent way too much on all-new supplies.” She shudders a bit.

A thoughtful silence falls between them as she scrubs between his fingers. Then she smiles coyly up at him. “You know what the first thing I wanted to paint was?”

He grins, intrigued. “What?”

“You.”

He blinks. “Wha?”

“I am going to have to build up to that though.” She falls into a ramble as she overcompensates for the admission. “I know if first thing back, I try for my masterpiece, I’m gonna hate everything and stop. So I was actually painting the view from the windows. All those trees. The lake.”

He’s still staring at her. “You wanted to paint… me?”

“Yeah, for a long time now.” She takes a deep breath, and her words become more careful. “There was actually this day… It was during the engagement tour.” She looks away, falling back into the memory. “It was just any day, really. Somewhere between Italy and France. We were getting breakfast on the train with Drake and Hana, so I was sitting next to you, and I looked over at you…” her cheeks heat, but she presses on. “The light caught just right--” shining through his eye, long lashes, profile lit up as his lips parted in a smile-- “and I just…” she presses a hand to her heart, which is reliving the longing it felt then. She breathes deep, and his familiar scent calms her down. “I wanted to paint again. And I hadn’t been able to in years, but I needed … I needed somebody else to see how beautiful you are to me.” She looks up at him, finally.

Her entire speech he’s been standing there, unmoving, and now that she looks up she can see that his eyes are shining.

Her instinctual reaction is panic. “Oh no, don’t cry, I’m sorry--”

He hugs her. Immediately her arms wrap around him in turn, and though she can feel her face smush into the paint she’d put onto the hippo, she just doesn’t care.

“Riley, you’re… amazing.” He whispers. “I can’t believe…”

“Hey.” She pulls him tightly to her. “You’re worth it. You’re always worth it.”

They stand there for a long minute, breathing together. She hears his heartbeat, steady and strong and fast.

“Maxwell,” she finally whispers.

“Riley.”

“We’re getting paint all over each other again.”

He laughs.

#trr #the royal romance #maxwell beaumont #Maxwell x mc #mc x maxwell #riley brooks #v writes things

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writemarvelousthings · 6 years

Text

The Runaway Circus: Chapter 2

PAIRING: Reader x Bucky AU

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF BLOOD AND SLIGHT VIOLENCE

Summary: The Maximoff Circus was a band of ragtag misfits who had no place in the world around them. When a handsome stranger quite literally stumbles into their home is it a good thing to welcome a runaway into the circus?

A/N: I hope you all enjoy the next chapter, I’m sorry that this update has been a long time coming. Just know I will try my best to update as soon as I possibly can!

Previously

Bucky didn’t know what to say, he felt like a wild animal backed into a corner as the stranger's eyes him. Not unkindly, but more like surveying him. He’s known a little of what that’s like, Pietro smiles again. Pulling a stool up to sit next to him on the bed, peering at the bandage on his side a small frown graces his face.

“Does that hurt?” The soft concern in his voice makes Bucky shake his head in response.

“I see our Angel patched you up” Pietro winks at (Y/N) who blushes pulling her dressing gown around her more.

“I’m most grateful for your hospitality” Bucky murmurs, his eyes flicking from (Y/N) to Pietro who grins in response.

“Nonsense, you’re more than welcome here. We were all strangers and homeless once. We should let you rest” at the mention of letting him rest (Y/N) stood giving him a warm smile as Sam holds the door open for her. Bucky watches as (Y/N) gives him one last smile before disappearing with Sam into the train hallway.

“I’m sure Steve won't mind you staying the night. He’s been in the market for a roommate” Steve laughs slightly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Get some rest, my friend. Tomorrow is going to be a big day”

His side throbbed slightly as he followed Steve into the morning sun. Stepping down the wooden plank, in the early daylight, he could finally see the scale of the circus that he had stumbled on. The train seemed to go on for miles, the dark wood almost made the train look black as the night sky. If it wasn’t for the red and white sign painted on each carriage Bucky would have trouble guessing what the train was in use for. The Marvelous Maximoff Circus was displayed for all the world to see from far and wide

“Another circus,” Bucky thought bitterly. But before he could slip deeper into the dark memories of the past a familiar face snapped him out of it. Like a spotlight illuminating a dark stage, the way the light hits her face made her skin glow. He watched as she turn’s to smile at something a red-headed woman said as they stand at the open cargo door hatch. The unfamiliar woman's eyes cast over him causing (Y/N) to turn and suddenly he felt the spotlight focus on him. Drowning out the darkness that was clawing its way back in.

“I wouldn’t risk it pal” Steve’s voice is like a switch as suddenly the world comes again, the spotlight and the dark stage has gone from his mind as the shouts of men and the smell of circus animals drawn into his senses. Bucky turns to Steve, the blonde man hooks his thumbs around his suspenders. The shirt hangs off his impossibly large frame, it should make Bucky stand up straighter at the sheer size of the man alone but he’s too exhausted to even attempt to size up to him.

“I’ve risked too much already” Bucky mutters to himself, pushing past Steve who merely frowns after him. The blonde shrugs it off, knowing it’s none of his business as he goes in search of his fire torches.

“(Y/N) are you even listening to me?” Natasha touched your elbow gently. Turning you give the woman an apologetic smile.

“Sorry Talia, what were you saying?” The redhead gave you a smirk in response.

“Don’t worry I was looking at him too. I guess he was what all the secrecy was about last night?” you fumble over your words for a moment as Natasha’s smile only grew.

“(Y/N) relax, it’s not like we’ve taken runaway onboard before. You know Pietro, Patron Saint of adopting the sick and broken. Not to mention strange and unusual” Ignoring your best friend you wrap your sweater around yourself as you climb down off the train onto the dew-covered grass towards Steve. You know he sees you coming, the muscles in his back tense slightly as he makes more of a show to search through his props trunk.

“What was that all about?” you nod towards the retreating back of Bucky. Steve glances over his shoulder, you both watch as Pietro walks over to him. Clasping his shoulder warmly before steering him away to where the big top was being strung up.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it. You should find Sam before he starts to worry” reluctantly you nod, turning to walk back towards the train to change into your warm-up costume.

Bucky wasn't paying much attention to Pietro, his eyes gravitate towards (Y/N) again. He watched as she walked away from Steve back into the train.

“Most people don’t realise how much work goes into creating a show such as ours” It was obvious that Pietro was proud of his Circus. Bucky nods turning back to watch the men work in tandem, the thundering of hammers is almost deafening if not for the large long blonde haired man shouting out orders at them.

“Yeah… it’s really something” Bucky mutters watching the familiar red and white canvas being carried across the field. The blonde man Bucky now registers as the leader barks at them, but not unkind. He has a large smile on his face as the booming laugh thunders in Bucky’s chest. The sound and the commotion around him make his heart drum almost painfully in his chest, flashes of torchlight and trees in the dark flood his mind. Reaching out almost blindly he steadies himself on a nearby crate, focusing on steadying his breathing Bucky refused to look up at Pietro out of embarrassment and shame. To his credit, the ringmaster merely stands to the side. Leaning against the crate as he watched his circus come to life around him as if he was watching ducks at the pond on a Sunday afternoon.

“You know my father created the Marvelous Maximoff Circus in Sokova. It was the first of it’s kind, to celebrate the unique and unusual. This circus, it’s a safe haven for those who need it” Bucky feels his muscles tense as a warm hand his placed on his shoulder. Slowly Bucky raises his head to look at Pietro, his smile was encouraging as he waited for Bucky to relax.

“He had a policy he carried to his grave, to never turn away anyone. And it’s a policy that my sister and I have continued here in America” Pietro squeezes his hand gently.

“You have a sister” Bucky whispered wanting to waste no more time of flashes of the past. Pietro let out a soft laugh, removing his hand from Bucky’s shoulder.

“Wanda’s has a gift of almost reading people’s minds, she’s the circus fortune teller. She might have an insight into your future my friend” Bucky gave a small smile. Straightening up, the large structure now fully formed in front of him. The big top was impressive, the bright white and the fierce red colours contrasted yet complemented each other.

“Normally I wouldn’t offer this but tonight, you’ll have the best seat in the house. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to make sure everyone is ready for tonight” With a flourish of his red coat Pietro briskly strode away towards the group of men now gathered under the big top. Unsure of what to do and his place within this new environment Bucky wandered back to the train, his stomach reminding him that he hadn’t eaten in forty-eight hours. Following his nose Bucky found what he was looking for, a carriage with makeshift tables sat around it, a large pot of what Bucky guessed was porridge was set up for the circus performers to help themselves too. Subconsciously Bucky wondered if (Y/N) would be there, but instead, the red-haired woman from early was sat alone smiling at him.

“Won’t you sit down?” Bucky glanced at her, helping himself to a bowl of porridge before sitting on the wooden crate. The woman at first glance was beautiful but Bucky could register something inside of her that screamed danger.

“Natasha Romanoff” she extended her hand out to him. Bucky was then only too aware how dirty his hands were, his next step was to find a basin to bathe in.

“James Buchanan Barnes” Natasha’s green eyes studied him for a moment, reaching into her coat pocket she produced a small packet of cigarettes.

“Do you smoke Mr Barnes?” Bucky nodded, red nails extended the slim white roll. He thanked her as she offered him a lighter, sitting back in the wooden chair Natasha took a long drag before exhaling. The smoke swirled around her for a moment before disapparating.

“So what is your act Mr Barnes” Natasha crossed her legs, Bucky tried to ignore the milky skin of her thighs as he in hailed his own cigarette.

“I don’t have an act” for whatever reason Natasha found some humour in his answer as she stood from her chair.

“Everyone has an act Mr Barnes” Without a second glance she strolled away leaving Bucky to sit alone.

“Don’t mind Natasha, she’ll come to trust you soon enough” Bucky’s head snapped up at the newcomer.

“She shouldn’t” Bucky reluctantly push around his cold porridge.

“My brother was right, you are a mystery”

Tag list: If I’ve missed anyone please let me know

@bucky-plums-barnes @abovethesmokestacks @kittyisabel @emolordisme @nevaeh-potter15 @fly-little-butterfly @marvelrevival @founduebitches @frostsoldier @thekayceenicole @jixstarfire @mazarinqueen @hazeofeleven @sistasarah-sallysaidso @unic0rns-taking-0ver-th3-w0rld @leanoreblack @void--life @n3rdybird @pseudonymfox @jennylovelyheart (strike means I couldn't tag)

#bucky barnes imagine #reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #marvel au #avengers au #bucky #the runaway circus #writemarvelousthings #my writing

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stretchemersonarchive · 6 years

Text

Ice on the Road

By Althea Smith

I moved out of my mother’s house the day before her birthday. I felt guilty but somehow vindicated by it. As if this was her punishment for letting it get to this point. For letting me leave. It started on a cold February day in my fourteenth year. (Well, it had truthfully started long before that, but to me, this was the turning point). It was my first year at the technical school three towns away, a step up from the lazy, underfunded atmosphere of the school in my hometown. Everyone there could feel the desire to escape. Douglas was small, without even a stoplight, and my whole family had graduated from the local high school. I was determined not to follow in their footsteps. To learn a trade and go to college and live a life not haunted by financial worry.

Leaving was hard, though. I had spent the first eight years of my schooling with the exact same group of eighty people. The size of my new class was more than triple that, and I knew barely anyone. It was nerve racking, trying to make new friends, so I was both excited and afraid when I finally got invited to my first highschool party.

It was me and about ten other kids crammed into Emily’s basement. Her house was large and airy and looked like it might be found in a magazine with its dark leather furniture and gleaming granite counters. I was completely out of my comfort zone and I wanted so badly to impress the people there. I wanted them to like me. We played stupid party games like Apples to Apples and ate chips. Barely an hour passed before I got a call from my Mom.

“There’s going to be ice on the road. I’m coming to get you now.”

It’s sensible, of course, looking back on it now. It would’ve been dangerous to drive in bad weather, and my mom has always been especially nervous about driving in poor conditions. But then, in my fourteen year old glory, all I could think about was what my new friends would think if I left earlier. When they continued to have fun without me, would they realize that they didn’t need me?

“Please, mom, let me stay. Karin’s mom said she could drive me home. Everyone else is staying, it won’t be that bad — please,” I pleaded into the phone.

My mom did not care what everyone was else was doing. She screamed at me on the phone for being ungrateful. She was just trying to keep me safe, how could I question her?

Everyone else in the room was trying very hard to ignore my call, but you could hear my mother’s shouts clearly through the speakers. My face burned red.

“My mom is coming to get me,” I said after I hung up, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

When she arrived, I slipped out of the room quietly, thanking Emily’s mother, somehow hoping that my absence would go unnoticed.

I climbed into the passenger seat of the beat up minivan I would one day inherit, sullen and upset to leave the party. From the moment the car door slammed shut my mother and I were fighting. Our fights had been frequent lately. As I reached my teenage years I was prone to sudden outbursts of anger that I couldn’t quite seem to bite down before they spilled out of my mouth. I had never been like that before, I was the quiet child who never got into trouble. My older brother had always been the one my mother had had to worry about. I had seen the products of their fights before, and in the past it had made me wary. I’d never forget the day we came home to find that my mother had taken away the frame of his bed as a punishment, leaving him with just a mattress on the floor. She was always creative like that. Lately, however, my temper had been overriding my wariness. The problem wasn’t the fights. Every teenage girl fought with their mother. It was how they ended. (Unusually badly).

This particular fight had an ending I wasn’t expecting.

My mom hit the brakes. “Fine. Get out.”

I sat there in shock. I had heard parents make threats like this in movies but none of them ever followed through. I waited for her to take it back, to put the car back in drive and continue home. But she didn’t.

Sniffling, I opened the car door and stepped into the street. My mom drove away. I watched her tail lights illuminate the darkness for a moment before I turned around and started shuffling back towards Emily’s house. My mom had been right about the dangerous weather. The ground was a mess of slush and mud that my canvas sneakers weren’t equipped to handle. By the time I made it back to the front door I was sobbing. I shouldn’t have fought with my mom, I knew. I had just wanted to look cool. Now what would they think of me, a gasping, red faced mess? But there was nowhere else for me to go.

I was too afraid to knock, so I fumbled for my phone. I called Paul. He was still at the party and he was the person there I knew best. We were both from Douglas and had bonded over the sudden freedom we had felt to be open about our queerness away from our hometown.

“Hello?”

“I’m at the door,” I said, trying and failing to keep my voice steady.

He could tell something was wrong, and it wasn’t just him, but Emily and her mom who appeared at the door. Looking at them made me start crying again.

“Honey, did you fall?” Emily’s mom asked.

I shook my head, struggling to get out the words. “My mom kicked me out of the car.”

It was awkward, standing in Emily’s seemingly perfect house, confessing my familial problems to strangers. The differences between us seemed so stark in that moment, how Emily’s mother couldn’t seem to fathom that it was my own mother who had made me so upset rather than some kind of physical injury. They were kind and I didn’t want them to think badly of my mother or my life when they couldn’t truly understand it. I don’t remember how I ended up sitting on the stairs of the basement with Paul, attempting to calm down enough to sit with the rest of the people at the party. It really didn’t matter, because they were all sitting right outside listening to me cry anyway, but I was attempting to hold some semblance of control over the situation.

My phone rang, and it was my mom. She was coming back to get me.

I sat on the stairs with Paul and cried until she came. I remember saying, “I’ll have to live with my dad.”

Eventually, I once again climbed into the passenger seat of our beat-up minivan. My mom didn’t look over at me, but she put the car in drive. I was still crying.

“Sorry,” I said.

Mom’s knuckles were white when she clutched the wheel. She really did hate driving in bad weather.

It was icier inside the car than it was outside.

It was around this time that my semi-frequent panic attacks became really bad. Bad enough that my parents took me to the doctor, and then to the counsellor where I was told I had a panic disorder.

I remember after a particularly bad fight with my mom, about what I don’t even remember, I sat on the floor of her room desperately gasping for breath.

My panic attacks could last for hours. I would feel my heart beating so fast I thought it could pop right out of my chest like the creature from Alien. I couldn’t breathe and would choke until I got physically ill, and become so light headed I sometimes fainted. During a panic attack was the only time my dog, a big mutt we rescued, would put up with my attempts to cuddle with him.

I sat on the floor of her room, clutching at his soft fur, choking on the air that was desperately trying to invade my lungs.

“What can I do?” my mom asked me, sitting on the bed above me, rubbing a soothing hand across my back. I shook my head. There was nothing to be done.

Our fights continued. Sometimes (most times) it was stupid things. I refused to do the dishes unless my brother was also required to. I thought it was sexist and unfair that I needed to do household chores and he didn’t. My mom, tired of coming home from long hours at her grueling retail job at Staples to a pile of dirty dishes in the sink (which even my brother to this day admits was mostly created by him), decided that the best solution was just to pack all the dishes away in boxes.

“If you won’t clean them, you can’t have them,” she said.

One of our fights was over a pair of shoes I wanted. A pair of boots given to her by my aunt that I could barely squeeze my feet into.

“They don’t even fit you,” my mom yelled.

“I’ve always wanted boots like this,” I screamed back. “You don’t even like them as much as me!”

That fight ended in a pair of shoes being thrown and another panic attack. I was lying on my rickety twin sized bed with tears still running down my face. My mom sat down beside me and the bed groaned under her weight. She placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Do you want to move in with your dad?”

I don’t really remember what I said in response. I do remember that it amounted to no. My mom and I fought but I loved her. I didn’t want to leave.

But it was barely a week later when my father called me and asked if I really wanted to move in with him. She told him. I remember thinking. She wants me to leave.

My father is a good man. He’s a truck driver, and he has always worked harder than anyone I know. He smokes four packs a day and loves rock music. He dropped everything when I moved in with him. He moved out of the room he was renting in an attempt to save money for a down payment on a bigger apartment without question.

I remember sitting in the passenger seat of my father’s car blasting The Grateful Dead and Jimi Hendrix. That’s where we had all our best talks. He worked so much that we didn’t get to spend much time together anywhere else.

“We’re always on the go,” he used to say.

It was one of those nights as my Dad was driving me back from some school event that I remember him telling me that my mother was crazy.

“I tried to get her to go to a doctor four or five times. They said she probably had PTSD or something. She was just crazy sometimes.”

I know, in a distant kind of way, that my mom didn’t have the best childhood. I was six when our grandparents mysteriously disappeared from our lives. Years later, when my grandfather, Joe, got sick, they would pop back up. Celia, his wife, however, has never become grandma to me. My mom generally refers to her as “step-bitch”. My mom’s mother died before she could even remember her. I’ve heard off-hand stories about things like my mother having to catch a ride home from a police officer after being stranded when she broke her leg at school, but mostly, the past is something mysterious and vaguely dark with nobody talks about in clear words.

Was it true that my mom was crazy? My friends certainly seemed to think so. After that night at the party, some of them considered her borderline abusive. My counsellor was also concerned with her behavior, especially her drinking, and thought it was a good thing for everyone when I moved out of her house. I had never thought of her this way, though. She wasn’t perfect, but she was my Mom. She had done everything for me. She cooked my favorite meals when I was down and watched television with me curled up in her bed. She was the only person who listened to me ramble about movies and books and school without complaint and came to all my horrible dance and chorus recitals. She made me Halloween costumes and brought home things from Staples that reminded her of me. When I was anxious to go somewhere she drove me around the block until I was ready to get out.

Still, for a while after I moved out, we didn’t really talk. I think we both felt hurt by what had happened.

By my sophomore year of high school we were talking again. I called her almost everyday and were honestly closer than we had been while we lived together. I had to admit that my counsellor had been right and things were better now that I didn’t live with my mom. It took the stress off of our relationship. I was more independent and there was much less for us to fight about.

One of my friends asked me once why I was so forgiving to her. It seemed strange to me to describe it like that. After all, I had done many regrettable things when I was younger that my mother never lingered on. I knew that my Mom loved me and it must have been difficult for her to let me go when she made the decision to call my father. She was just doing what she thought was best. It seemed to me that a lot of people idolized their parents and expected them to be perfect. To have all the answers. But I knew my mother was just a person. Someone who makes mistakes and has bad days. Like in all relationships there were bumps in the road of ours but at the end of the day I knew that she would be there for me when it counted. In my mind, there wasn’t much to forgive.

#vol3 #idenity #memoir

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tigerlilynoh · 7 years

Text

A Late Night

This is a little scene/writing exercise that probably never would've made it into Job & Family. I sometimes write alternate scenarios like this in order to flesh out characters/dynamics for my own benefit. In the end this scene wasn't adopted because I didn't want Dean to practice avoidance behavior in the middle of me trying to run him through the ringer. Also, I didn't like the idea of him ditching everyone else when they needed him. That being said, there's a lot of small stuff in here that holds true to me and in that way I feel like it's almost a what-if style Deleted Scene.

Characters: Dean x original character Words: 2,046 Spoiler alert: Contains spoilers up through chapter 81 of Job & Family.

Dean & Jeremy walked all the way around Broken Arrow Park three times, then the two blocks back to Jeremy's apartment building. It was almost two in the morning and they hadn't seen another person in at least an hour. Dean had felt guilty calling so late, but he needed to get away from the bunker. Once again he'd let Jeremy take the lead on the conversation, content to just listen to anything far removed from the turmoil of his life. Though there was only so long that they could tiptoe around the circumstances of their meetup.

“Do you want to tell me what's going on?” Jeremy asked when they got to the front steps of his building. “I'm guessing you didn't call me at midnight on a Tuesday just to hear me ramble about annuities.”

“I'm having a rough time and I needed… I’m not sure.” Dean hesitated. He barely knew the guy. They'd only met a night or two earlier, but Jeremy was one of the only people he knew that wasn't neck deep in the apocalypse drama.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jeremy offered with a sympathetic smile before breathing into his hands to warm them.

“My… my half-brother,” That was probably the easiest way of conveying the complicated family relationship with Dylaniel. “he was in an accident.”

“I'm sorry.” Dean could see sincere concern in Jeremy’s eyes. He suddenly felt a little less guilty about messing up the guy's night. “Are you two close?”

“I only got to know him recently. He's younger, about twenty.” Dean remembered the bleak & bloody scene, then covered his face. “I saw him. He's a mess. I don't know…”

Jeremy cautiously wrapped his arms around Dean. It was strange to have someone he hardly knew- I quick little fling from a bar, trying to comfort him. But at the same time he was just grateful for whatever comfort he could get. After a moment Dean hugged him back.

“How can I help?” Jeremy asked quietly.

“I don't think anyone can help.” Jeremy let go of him a bit and leaned back in order to look him in the eyes. Dean felt a bit embarrassed to be standing there, awkwardly burdening someone with his own problems. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put this on you.”

“It's okay. I was kind of hoping you'd call- just under better circumstances.” Jeremy's eyes flicked down bashfully. “Maybe this is a little… Do you want to come in? I can make you some coffee or... you can crash on my couch if you don't want to go home.”

Dean hadn't been considered actually going into Jeremy's apartment at all, but the suggestion that maybe he didn't want to go back home struck as painfully true. The thought of going back to the bunker, it just felt like too much. He’d have to go back and face everything eventually, but he wanted an escape so badly, even for just another hour.

“Some coffee maybe.”

“Sorry about the mess. I don't usually have people over.” Jeremy said as he tossed his keys into a red ceramic bowl of loose change & thumb drives on a bookshelf by the door. “This machine brews the best coffee, but it’s so slow to warm up.”

“It's okay.”

Dean looked around at the small studio apartment. The furniture was minimal & modern, but bright flashes of personality made the place warmer. A large canvas depicting a red & purple sunset hung on the wall above a sleek grey couch. A dozen issues of magazines like Economist & Foreign Affairs, three thick manila folders, a laptop, & a used glass tumbler sat on a maple coffee table. The kitchen consisted of little more than a fridge, a stove that seemed to only serve the function of being additional counter space, & a professional grade coffee machine. He could see the corner of a queen size bed peeking out from behind a four panel room divider of white & red paper framed with maple that matched the coffee table.

“I know it's 2am, but I don't have decaf.” Jeremy warned as he took off his jacket and started fiddling around in the kitchen.

“That's fine.”

“Make yourself comfortable.”

Dean looked through the bookcase that had been right next to the door. The top few shelves were packed with classic literature that Dean had never read, most of which he'd never even heard of. But the bottom shelf held an 8” record player and a collection of vinyls. Dean flipped through the selection, which was almost entirely jazz.

“Feel free to put something on.” Jeremy invited from the kitchen. “The neighbor on the right is deaf and the couple on my left are out of town.”

“Nina Simone or Miles Davis?”

“Surprise me.” Dean grinned at the challenge, then put on Cannonball Adderley. Jeremy glanced over at the unexpected selection. “That's a cheap trick.”

“You told me to surprise you.”

Dean strolled around the apartment listening to Autumn Leaves. This was a civilian’s home. It'd been so long since he'd been in one- at least for long enough to make himself comfortable. He wasn't on a job. He wasn't drunkenly having a one night stand. He wasn't even working a cover. He leaned against a narrow section of kitchen counter that was the equivalent to a table and watched Jeremy wash a few coffee mugs while the coffee machine was heating up.

“Serious question,” Jeremy warned him. “Do you want to talk about your brother or should I distract you?”

“Distract me.” Dean replied after a few seconds of guilty deliberation.

“Do you like jazz?”

“I haven't listened to any in years.” He wasn't exactly sure whether the answer was yes. It just wasn't something he ever considered. “Most of the time I stick to classic rock-”

“Rolling Stones?”

“AC/DC.”

“To each their own.” Jeremy shrugged as he dried the mugs with a tidy dishcloth, then folded and rehung it .

“You don't like that rougher stuff?” Dean asked, a bit confused by the idea of not liking more visceral or cathartic music.

“Life is tough enough. I like music that slows you down.”

“Yeah, I noticed a lot of cool jazz in your collection.”

“You do know your jazz. Aren't you the mysterious one.” Jeremy grinned at him, then leaned against the counter opposite Dean. “Tell me about your secret life as a jazz club owner.”

“Not quite.” Dean hesitated for a moment before confessing his actual source of exposure. “A year or two after high school, my family lived outside of Hermosa Beach for a few months- my little brother was still in school, so we tried not to move that much. Anyway, there was a club I used to go to most nights, they didn't card and the jazz scene doesn't see a lot of bar fights.”

“I can see it now, a bright eyed youth, out in the world on your first adventure, dipping your toe into the shadowy night life. Wooing women and drinking…” Jeremy circled around to Dean's side of the counter while he chewed his lip while trying to settle on a guess. “an old fashioned.”

The prediction felt so innocent & pure, it was sweet that someone might think he could've ever stumbled into a brave new world as peaceful as that. He hadn't lied to Jeremy about the evenings at the club. He was trying to just be himself and the thought that Jeremy saw him in such a light made him feel more like a real person- not just some two dimensional womanizing hunter, but secretly he was a more complex man. Not only was he allowed to be more, someone admired it in him.

“Manhattan.” Dean corrected.

“So I need to buy some sweet vermouth?”

Dean leaned in and kissed Jeremy. Jeremy fumbled with the coffee mug that he was hold, attempted to put it down without turning away from the kissing, and dropped the mug to the floor. Neither of them even checked to see if the cup was broken. Dean lightly nibbled Jeremy's lip. Jeremy’s fingers slid up the back of Dean's neck, into his hair, sending that incredible tingling down his spine.

Dean gripped Jeremy’s shirt, pulling him closer. They bumped into the wall and knocked into a painting. Jeremy redirected them away from the wall and its fragile artwork. Dean's left leg ended up between Jeremy's as they tried to move, causing them to stumble. Jeremy landed backwards on his bed, accidentally pulled Dean down on top of him. Without hardly missing a beat, Dean kept kissing Jeremy while reaching for Jeremy’s belt.

“Stop.” Jeremy said after pulling, back breaking the ravenous kiss.

“What?” Dean whispered in surprise, heart pounding in his chest that was resting on Jeremy's. He was pinning Jeremy to the bed, legs intertwined, both partially hard.

“You're upset.” Jeremy gently pushed Dean a few inches off of him. “I’m not going to take advantage of you.”

“But... I'm…” He wasn't sure what he was trying to say- what he'd been hoping for.

“I’m saying no.”

Dean looked down at this guy who’d been nothing but nice to him- Jeremy had tried to take care of him, he still was. The truth was that Dean had gotten caught up trying to drown himself in any sort of distraction or comfort. He was in deeper than he'd meant and the fact that Jeremy had to have been the one to say no- not once, but on some level three times made his stomach knot.

“God, I'm so embarrassed.” Dean climbed off of him, rolling onto the bed next to Jeremy. He could feel himself turning pink.

“Please don't be.” Jeremy reassured. After a moment of awkward silence he rolled in his side to look at Dean. “You want to hear embarrassing? One time I went on four dates with a guy before I found out he was straight. I thought his girlfriend was his sister- all you white people look alike- anyway, I went in for a kiss, but realized I messed up halfway through, so I faked passing out. I accidentally hit my head for real on a table on my way down and was knocked out cold.”

“You're kidding.” Dean was trying not to smile at the bizarre mental image.

“I woke up in an ambulance.” Jeremy chuckled. “According to the discharge nurse it wasn't the worst ER kiss story she'd heard.”

“Not a kiss, but I once passed out drunk while eating a girl out. I nearly suffocated.” Dean offered, then rolled onto his side to watch Jeremy laugh uncontrollably to the point of tears for a whole minute

“That sounds like the worst way to die.”

“Maybe for you.” Dean teased.

“Thanks for taking no for an answer.” Jeremy smiled and softly touched the back of Dean's hand.

“Anytime.”

They stared at each other for a long while before there was a beep from the kitchen. Jeremy sat up a little faster than Dean had expected- he was almost a bit flustered.

“The coffee machine’s warmed up. I'll be right back.” Jeremy said as he walked towards the small kitchen. Dean tried to watch him, but he was already nodding off.

Dean woke up in his shirt & boxers, snuggled up with a similarly dressed Jeremy. For a moment he was so startled by the minimal clothes that he wanted to hop out of the bed, but he remembered that nothing had actually happened. He'd just been too exhausted after a difficult day's emotional roller coaster and ended up falling asleep before Jeremy had been able to make him some coffee.

He reached over the edge of the bed to check his cell phone. The shifting made Jeremy unconsciously reposition, almost spooning Dean. He moved slower so as not to wake him.

“Where are you?” Sam’s text was only from four minutes earlier.

“I panicked. Needed some space. How is he?” Dean replied.

“About the same. You ok?” Sam answered after a few seconds.

Dean looked over his shoulder at his sleeping companion.

“I need a little more time, maybe 2-3 hours. But call me if anything changes or if I can help somehow.” Dean sent the text, placed the phone on the nightstand, then fell back asleep.

#job & family #Deleted Scenes #spn ficlet #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural ficlet #dean winchester

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