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feuqueerfire · 10 months

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From Now On, Showtime! Live Blogging

This is actually one of the first non-queer kdramas I added back on MDL after I started getting into BL/GLs because I saw a clip on twitter (from ep 4? idk) where he's doing a magic trick with floating cards with the help of ghosts.

Finally managed to download something onto my iPad to watch on my long-ass commute.

Ep 1 (June 14)

ah he’s a shaman fr

Was that in the past or it happened now?

Ah magician Cha Cha Woong

he’s got ghosts helping him right?

This cop reminds me of the MC of Midnight

Ah ofc the arrow

How’d he even dooo that oh wait was a ghost riding the bike

First meeting

Switched helmet? Will the camera catch Cha Woong being weird w the ghosts

Pls the hearts

Lol the dash cam catching all this convo, he even mentioned ghosts

Ah so grandpa dying was indeed in the present

Oh corrupt Chief Seo is Captain Heesoo’s father

Nooo how did neighbour dad-to-be die

He was murdered?!

Cha Woong is sooooo heartless

I wonder what the dashcam actually recoded though bc i wanna know the crime scene

pls not the ghosties protecting him against her arresting Cha Woong

I was wondering if he'd reveal the ghosts or not - he could still spin it as a silly joke like "ahaha a ghost ofc" but we'll see

Ep 2 (June 14)

lol ghost Mr. Ma (?) reminiscing on his thug days when he'd be taken to the police station

wait are they supposed to be a romance? why did they linger like that on her grabbing on to him? I thought maybe she and the sunbae would become something

who is that guy? some boss at the car place - he easily seems like the one who ran the dude over, though my initial guess was actually the Chief Seo guy - the detective mans dad

...it's not 1004 but there's a car with 1604 near the bakery?

lol the SUV of the company indeed the boss. so if they've found it so quick

ah is this a 2-ep format like Tomorrow? deal with a new ghost every week?

why didn't the ghosts come to get the helmet?

ah, confession under duress - will this actually work? ig it might by drama logic

oh loll this is the card floating trick that I saw on twitter

ah, so they managed to get and restore the helmet, that feels necessary

so is the Chief Seo protecting Seul Hae by not letting her be a detective (since the son mentioned that his father still feels bad about what happened to her dad) or is he covering his tracks by ensuring she can't catch him doing something bad?

so this is softening Cha Cha Woong, I see

ah man love triangle already? Cha Woong getting jealous seeing her and the detective after telling her to never come near him again? be serious

pls T.T this worshipping spirit scene

too dark, idk what's happening but Chief Seo and Seul Hae's dad fighting some spirit? oh he was killed by the full moon murderer? did they ever catch him?

oh i see, he fell off the cliff

oh? that's the full moon murderer? in the fishing village? idk why they're zooming in on his ear - is there a bullet hole or smth? te split on his ear?

or where'd that flashlight come from and who picked it up under the water?

wtf is that voice - slight horror vibes here?

damn bruh, that was Cha Woong's dream/nightmare that the Worshipping Spirit gave him?

ah, Cha Woong fainting and Seul Hae having to hold him up, okay

Ep 3 (June 15)

watched the first half while going to get my covid booster + waiting afterwards

so he doesn't have to be a shaman, just needs to do good things to get thanks from Seul Hae

oh, that's why everyone could see the worshiping spirit, they're all ghosts

plsssss ofc the cops barge in when they're here

The first half of the episode was so boring, my goodness but at least it picked up once we got to the gambler son story

Ep 4 (June 15)

damn some past life stuff?

second lead Heesoo is annoying wtf is "just to clean? this late? just you two?"

damn, what's happening - this creepy vibe

oh second couple? eh

ohh i was like why is he being so nice to this cafe owner but it's actually the ghost's pay i guess?

a dark soul into this Soondong dude's body oof the spirit is killing people on the full moon again but how'd it go into that lamp thing all this time

ah, so Cha Woong's grandpa and the whispering spirit had sealed the full moon spirit and drowned it

oh, Cha Woong and Seul Hae's past life that we saw a glimpse of is from the worshipping spirit's time?

Do we always need a Joseon era past lives connection in these fantasy type kdramas lol I watched Tomorrow recently and that had that too

Ep 5 (June 16)

Thoughts after watching the whole thing.

the full moon murderer at it again and this time he even saw Seul Hae

ah Cha Woong saw Seul Hae’s dad that last day + saw her at the funeral while she hates his grandpa shaman - Aris drug sting ah

the fuckass love triangle stuff is irritating like why are we doing this posturing thing. also the male bestie who is so possessive of his female bestie is a boooo trope

how is he suddenly such a good fighter, the ghosts are helping or what

Ep 6 (June 16)

Thoughts after watching the whole thing.

ah this chief is soooo agh full of corruption

Plsssss side girl’s reading of herself being dangerous and greedy and telling him to be careful

the cha woong fiancé wannabe is such a bitchhhh but she's funny i can’t decide if i like her or not

ahh the argument about grandpa vs father at the police station is great

ohhh i want the chief dead “why don’t you quit the force and find a nice man to marry” um die you fucking crook cheat corrupt ladder climber

at least he gather up 1 tiny bit of courage to go after the full moon murderer even if he returned a decade later

chief is soooooo booooooooooo ew

Ep 7 (June 16/17)

oh, she died because of him? he accidentally killed her?

worshiping spirit's goal is to connect the two of them? what? what was the mistake he made?

so he was a robber thief man and then the evil spirit got him?

ah the sunbae asks her to weekend bowling and now Cha Woong has to also get a move on. he's so silly tho repeating every last word gbye

I wish the evil spirit man wasn't the only one with a limp or some sort of disability in the show

don't kill herrrrrrrrrrrr D:

plssss her arguing with the grim reaper

but now she can tell them the guy who came to beat her up, right? ask herrr

pls can't she just say what the dude was wearing and stuff bc then at least they can check the CCTV again etc

wait wtf, her husband killed her?

The fact that all the pure and 7 whatever have been all women is boring and predictable boo

Ep 8 (June 17)

the evil spirit could tell the husband was "like him?"

oh at least we get one dude with the pure 7 skies thing or whatever

plsss not the bed-sharing to see the ghosts in the video

i wish we got to see a bit more of the aftermath of catching the husband and how the sunbae and his father reacted to it all

oh the people who the evil spirit had buried were the parents of the house?

evil spirit is also from 2000 years ago goddamn but i think we knew that, right? since the ghost was release from the Cha family

Ep 9 & 10 (June 17)

ngl i really don't care about their past lives

a ring magic trick??? be srs

pls why do seul hae and cha woong keep getting into these unintentional couple face-offs

what is this couple's match where only the guys play

plsss the grandma telling him that "aigoo, you have bad taste in women" because he likes yeji

i need the chief to die sooooo terribly like just painfully take that coward out you piece of shit

I can't remember when I went onto the next ep without doing the new ep thing but I guess it's around here.

they really left the evil fucking spirit at a place just like that so that some kids can easily release it fr?

plsssss Yeji has such a rancid personality, she's so funny

ah, is the grandma gonna die?

damn, she's really leading him into a secluded place by themselves? bruv. but ig him somehow recognizing her will save her

ah as expected he too recognizes her from 2000 years ago

couldn't you just have stuck the paper on him, this time of meeting and then nothing coming out of it is annoying

at least Hee Soo sunbae knows the truth about his father and the tragedy 10 years ago now

hm would Hee Soo die trying to get full man murderer?

anyway since early on, the chief and his son's relationship where the father is corrupt and the son wants to seek justice has reminded me of Beyond Evil (it was done better in BE) and I miss that show.

I've also been like ah, this past lives thing reminds me of Tomorrow and I don't care about it whatsoever. let's stay in the present pls

Ep 11 (June 17)

ah, this old-time past-life stuff

oh, he got the evil spirit into the bottle?

yang taechoon is an ordinary man now right, no evil spirit within him - just regular evilness that made the spirit choose him? - though i wonder if he'll manage to free the spirit again or what

oh Hee Soo shot him

oh she can see the ghosts now

ewwwww the way the detectives talk about Seul Hae "she always talks about her goal to be a detective but her goal's to actually be with you" "be careful or she'll put those shackles on you" agh

plsss so funny to see Yeji's rotten personality around the cop dude's mother like oh miss you're gonna regret it

agh we're just going through the past life and it could be okay what with the treats Poong Baek was facing etc but fr is Seul Hae's old life just spent cooing over Poong Baek or what. did i intend to watch a show where our main female lead is just pureness and boy crazy?

Joseon era powerful princess or whoever in high station being kind to the poor people is so eye-roll worthy ngl

ah, that's why the ring is significant

she's sooo cute and pretty and funny pls the way she got a proposal out of him

...aren't the evil spirit man and Cheon Hwa related... like if he's the illegitimate son and his brother is the king and she's the princess, then she's his niece?

bruh 40 minutes of the joseon era past and we still don't know the full story? be serious

Ep 12 (June 17)

man we're still on the past-life train

oh i see, never mind so mans gave his own brother the king of his own kingdom the poisoned concoction, not Seora's king. so they are indeed not related, i was so confused

ah, so he really was a traitor? i thought he's been framed but maybe not?

ah indeed he was framed

why do i always have to watch women be abused or treated as property in these shows like we can have fantasy of seeing ghosts and magic but not enough fantasy to not have women face sexism and abuse?

ah they're finally dying over 30 minutes in, so we'll get to go back to present time

oh damn Cha Woong already told Seul Hae about their past life, interesting I didn't think it'd be such a footnote in their interactions

plsss Cha Woong becoming soooo weirdly sweet now, my man is sooo in love with her (including her past life self lol) and keeps remembering it pls like it's a little weird actually <- ah she thinks so too that he keeps reenacting past life stuff

pls him saying he'll wait for her to kiss him

....would Hae Soo end up being evil? That'd be cowardly of the show to do

ohhh the reason the worshipping spirit is making up for his bad karma with the Cha bloodline is because he betrayed Poong Baek?

bro i needed this flashback to be 2 minutes max but we're getting everything

ahh, Hae Soo pretending (I'm assuming?) that he's just like his dad reminds me so much of Beyond Evil - but also ummm why is that voice sounding? Is Hae Soo possessed by the evil spirit or something

oh fuck they really made Hae Soo be an evil spirit victim. this would've been better if Seul Hae still liked him or was dating him but now it just feels cowardly as a way to remove him as an option

Seul Hae is for real the only female cop and detective

It does make sense that the evil spirit isn't fully gone because it'd be too easy otherwise

Ep 13 (June 17)

plsss even the grandma reading that the son's gf (Yeji) is not a good person

eww hae soo

it's dark, i can't see anything

ah they're together now i guess

i'm glad dongcheol found his gf tho

Ep 14 (June 18)

lmao all the ghosties against Cha Woong and Seul Hae relationship

oooaaaa so Yongryul's not rich and Yeji's gonna end up actually liking him

plssssss Cha Woong unable to help Seul Hae and it being the awkwardest thing on this double date good bye I'm dying

i think Seul Hae could've told Yeji about why he's not helping her lol this is so awkward I'm gonna crawl into a hole

ahh this fire where Areum saves a kid T.T

Ep 15 (June 18)

I have an assignment + homework thing to do ahhh but i just wanna watch some more of this

i need to kill every man in the detective office btw the way they blame and yell at Seul Hae for every fucking thing

ahh Yeji and Yongryul's mom's first proper meeting

why don't we get anywhere with the Hee Soo thing? it's

damn all the ghosties dealt with unfinished business and went to nirvana T.T

oh at least we still get to have Hee Soo in the mirror, so we might still have him return to being an okay person by the end

pls Yeji also has the 7 stars channel thing? how's that possible when she's so rancid, I thought it was supposed to be a pure thing

why'd he even announce himself before just capturing the spirit or whatever

Ep 16 (June 18)

1 last episode ah I should at least start working on my assignment but alas, I'm here...

um???? is this stupid ass breakup because he's gonna be possessed?????? she's in danger and you're leaving her like this? you piece of shit you fuck just tell her the truth

ah Heesoo's father now

bruv ofc Chawoong would hold the knife and ofc the dumbass detectives would get here at this time

the old ghosties T.T plssss

it was sooo small case almost non-existent threat for the past few episodes that it's like what? when it comes to the high stakes of this ep

hmmm would they have truly killed him?

agh fuckass past life again, go backkk idc

wait the worshipping spirit is coming back again or something?

kids?! wtf tiny ass ghosties

ohh their kid Maru is reincarnated worshipping spirit mans lol

Overall:

Funny and comedic with likable characters (even rancid characters like Yeji were charming to me). Nothing too deep, though it had some touching moments. Too much dramatic romance in the second half, I don't care about their royal/shaman past life tragedy and I think that made it kinda meh for me in the latter half.

Rating: 6.5/10

#ep by ep commentary #from now on showtime

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twdsunshine · 2 years

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Broken: Pt. 4

Summary: Mechanic!Daryl AU. Tabitha Dean has returned to her hometown for the first time in years, fleeing a life that isn’t quite what she thought it would be. When her car breaks down, the mechanic who comes to her rescue is none other than Daryl Dixon, the shy, strange boy that she remembers from her school days. But a lot has changed since then, and, when Tabby’s life catches up with her, she finds herself in need of someone to fix her broken parts. Is Daryl up to the job?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x OFC

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,776

Check out my bio for a link to my Masterlist!

*****

Tabby woke to the shrill ring of her phone. She rolled off of the couch, landing on her knees on the hardwood floor, and made a grab for her bag, digging through the contents until she found the offending item. Swiping a finger over the screen to answer the call, she held it to her ear.

“Hello?” Her own voice caused her to let out a pained groan, and she registered for the first time the persistent ache in her head as she slumped down to lean her back against the seat, shutting her eyes to block out the glare of the sun spilling in through the window.

A throaty chuckle came down the line, and she immediately recognised it as Daryl, releasing another groan as he laughed at her expense. “How ya feelin’?”

“Rough.”

“Yeah, ya sound it.” He laughed again, and Tabby rolled her eyes, immediately regretting it when even that simple act seemed to hurt. “Din’t think ya’d be up for an early wake-up call today. Hope that's alright.”

“More than alright,” she assured him. “I literally just woke up.”

“Ya needed the rest.” He cleared his throat, and she could hear chatter in the background and the clang of metal on metal; guessed that he was calling from the shop, having found her number on the paperwork for her car. “If ya still wanna head to the house, I can come grab ya on my break.”

She considered that for a brief moment before deciding against it. She knew that she wasn’t up to the task in her current state; plus, she didn’t want to drag Daryl all the way out to the cabin in the middle of his working day. “No, it’s okay. I think I might throw up in your truck.”

“Ugh, Tab.” he chided her, though there was still humour in his voice before he changed the subject. “Part for yer car came in. I got a few hours free s’afternoon so I’mma try an' get started on it. Should be ready sometime tomorrow, long as nothin’ urgent comes up.”

“Thanks, Daryl, that’s great.”

“I’ll drop it back for ya when s’ready,” he told her. “‘Less ya want me to pick ya up again?”

“Nah.” She’d hadn’t been planning on going to the house the next day, even before all of the car trouble had left her reliant on Daryl for a ride. Now that she’d decided to stick around for a while, she was in no hurry to sort through her mother’s things, and, if she managed to find work, she could fit it in around her shifts. “I’ll crack on with it when I’ve got my car back, but thank you. And thanks for last night as well. It was fun… for me, anyway. Sorry I was such a mess.”

“Nah, ya weren’t,” he lied, and somehow she could hear his smile in his voice. “Feel better. Ya got my number now, so just call if ya need anythin’.”

“I will.”

He hung up, and she let her phone drop into her lap, her head lolling back against the couch. The day spread out before her, lonely and quiet, and she immediately regretted turning down Daryl’s offer to pick her up at lunch, but she gave herself a mental shake. She needed to pull herself together. She was on her own now, and she needed to get used to it. With that in mind, she climbed shakily to her feet and headed for the shower.

*****

With a huff, Tabby let the book she was attempting to read fall closed, dropping it down onto her stomach where she lay, sprawled on the couch, and letting her eyes drift shut. She was utterly bored, and with that boredom came the tendency for her mind to wander and focus on things she really didn’t want to be thinking about. As well as the questions she had about her parents, whether her life would have turned out differently if her dad hadn’t been killed and her mom hadn’t turned to drink to cope, there were still more about the choices she’d made since she’d left home, all of which had led her here, to this place, right now: alone, surrounded by memories, and with nothing but empty time stretching out before her. She’d definitely made some wrong turns somewhere along the line, no doubt, and, with the benefit of hindsight, she could pick out each and every one, but that was of no use to her now.

Rolling to her feet, she decided to make herself useful. It wasn’t only her mom’s place that needed work. The cabin had stood empty for years, collecting dust, and, although she’d cleaned it well enough to make it habitable when she'd arrived, it could really do with a good clearout too. She had no intention of selling the place, and she intended to stay there until she had figured out her next steps as she certainly felt more comfortable there than at the house in town, but her father’s things still waited almost exactly where he’d left them, and it was beyond time to sort through them, she knew. So, with that, she crossed straight to the large closet set into one wall of the living room and tugged open the door.

The first thing that hit her was the smell: gunpowder and the outdoors and a lingering scent of the cologne her dad used to wear. There were several jackets hanging up inside, ranging from thin rain macs to thicker parkas, and, left undisturbed, they still carried the faint trace of his musk from the last time he’d worn them. Tentatively, she reached out for a soft fleece gilet, tugging it from its hanger and drawing it up to her nose. She breathed in deeply, and a choked sob forced its way up her throat. Daddy. Shaking it out, she slipped it on, zipping it up to her chin and hugging her arms around herself, as if she could imagine it was his embrace. It had been such a long time.

Swallowing hard, she dragged the rest of the coats from the cupboard, draping them over the arm of the couch, and burrowed deeper into the random assortment of items her father had stored away. Amongst the boots, empty shotgun shells, assorted backpacks and half-empty bottles of liquor, there were more personal possessions, each one giving her pause.

The first object she came across was a rough piece of wood, carved into the shape of a wolf, that she remembered him working on whenever they’d gathered around a campfire. She could picture him with a beer bottle on the floor beside his feet, his head dipped as he concentrated on whittling away with his knife, though he was no less engaged in the conversation because of it. He just hadn’t been able to sit idle, his hands always busy.

Next, was an old sheriff’s hat, battered and misshapen, that she’d stolen when he’d gotten his new uniform, much smarter than the hand-me-downs he’d been passed when he first took the job. For years, she’d worn it whenever they went out walking in the woods, to shield her eyes from the sun or her hair from the rain. He’d always straighten it when it slid askew - far too big for her at that age - calling her his little mini-me, and they’d laughed, but she really had been, still was now, more than ever.

Then, there was a raggedy teddy bear, one that he’d bought for her, especially to keep at the cabin. That was the result of one long weekend when she’d left the teddy she usually slept with at home and cried her eyes out, until he’d had to drive back to the house at 2 A.M. to fetch it. He’d presented her with the cabin bear, or ‘Woody’ as she’d named him, the next time they’d come out to the forest, and, from then on, she’d sought him out whenever they arrived, carrying him everywhere with her. He’d once fallen in the river and had to be washed and hung out on the porch to dry. She could still see him, hanging forlornly from one ear, on the line her mom had rigged up.

She couldn’t keep going after that. It was all too much, too many memories on top of the onslaught that the photo albums she’d found the day before had brought about. Snagging Woody, she fumbled blindly through her tears for one of the liquor bottles on the back shelf, not caring what she ended up with, and retreated to her bedroom. Burrowing under the covers, she unscrewed the lid, tipped her head back and took a long swig, wrinkling her nose when the alcohol burned down her throat. She stayed there for the rest of the evening, only venturing back out to the living room for another bottle when the first, and then the second, had run dry. Sleep overcame her around the time she was halfway down her third. She still had Woody cuddled to her chest.

*****

For the second time in as many days, Tabby was woken by her phone ringing. This time, though, it was quieter, drifting in from the living room where she’d left it the previous afternoon, and she shut her eyes again, scrunching the duvet up around her ears to block out the sound. Also for the second time in as many days, she was hungover. Her mouth was dry, her throat thick and scratchy, and there was a pounding behind her temples that only increased when she moved, rolling over to turn her back on the light that was filtering in through the window. Her eyes were sore and red from crying, and, though she’d believed herself to be incapable of producing any more tears, she could feel fresh ones welling up as her brain kicked into gear and reminded her of the day’s date. It was her birthday.

Tabby had never spent a birthday alone. They had always been celebratory affairs, enjoyed at first with family, and then, when her family had broken down, with friends or the special someone in her life. Last year, she had been wined and dined and treated like a queen, and it was a stark contrast to her situation now, facing the day with no company, no plans or presents to unwrap, without even a phone call, she would imagine, to wish her well. After all, who would ring her? She had nobody left. Her foggy mind vaguely registered that it was the trill of her ringtone that had woken her in the first place, and hope swelled in her chest for a brief moment as she struggled out of bed, taking the cover with her, wrapped around her like a shroud, and stumbled out to find her cell. It took a second or two to locate it, tucked down the side of the cushions on the couch, and then she was thumbing over it to see that the call had come from Grimes Auto. There was no voicemail, but a new text message was showing.

Will drop your car back tonight. D

Daryl. A small smile curved her lips, falling away again almost instantly when she realised that he’d only made contact to update her on her car, probably to check that she’d be home when he brought it round, which, of course, she would, because she really had nowhere else to go. There was no small talk; he wasn’t getting in touch to see how she was; he hadn’t remembered her birthday - and, honestly, why would he? She’d conjured up a friendship from thin air, she thought, so desperate for company, and, once her car was repaired and returned to her, she probably wouldn’t hear from him again. Even the shy, strange boy that got bullied through high school had more of a life than she did, and that thought, cruel as it was, only added to her feeling of hopelessness.

With a sigh, she tossed her phone onto the large wooden table that stood between the living room and the kitchen, slouching over to the cupboard above the kettle and pulling out a bar of chocolate that she’d stored in there when she’d stocked up on supplies. She carried it with her back to her bed, curling up in a ball on the soft mattress, and that was where she stayed, wallowing in her own loneliness, for the rest of the day.

*****

Daryl pulled the Cougar up in front of the cabin with a satisfied smile, pleased at how smoothly the old car seemed to be running. He’d taken the time to give it a general tune-up once he’d done the repair, and cleaned it off too, the crimson paintwork gleaming. He wouldn’t usually bother, knowing how quickly cars got dusty out here in the sticks, but he’d wanted to show Tabby that he cared, took pride in his work, and that impulse had surprised him so much that he didn’t want to think too hard on it. He slipped out from behind the wheel, locking the car door behind him, and crossed the clearing to where Rick had pulled up in his truck, having followed him out here.

“Sweet a ride as you thought?” his boss asked as he killed his engine, and Daryl nodded. “C’mon, I’ll help ya with the bike, then I’m takin’ off. S’been a long day.”

When Daryl had first started at the shop, Rick had been working side by side with him, always happiest when he was up to his elbows in grease, tinkering with an engine, but, as the business had grown, he was now more often found in his office, buried in paperwork. He didn’t enjoy it. It was obvious from the lifeless cast to his eyes when he left at night and the slight slump of his shoulders whenever he stepped out into the yard, but Daryl supposed that was the price of success. It almost made him glad that he’d never been book smart. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than being chained to a desk all the livelong day.

Rick lowered the tailgate, hopping up into the bed of his truck so he could undo the straps that kept the motorcycle in place before rolling it carefully backwards towards where Daryl waited. Together, they hefted the Nighthawk down to the ground, a routine that had become well-honed over the years, and Daryl wheeled it out of the way, making space to turn the truck around and allow the other man to hit the road. Less than a minute later, his boss rumbled away down the uneven track, eager to get home to his wife and son, with a wave and a call of, “See ya tomorrow!”

When the sound had receded, and with a last affectionate look at the car that he’d spent the past two days working on, Daryl climbed the steps to the cabin, raising a fist to knock on the front door. Silence. He’d already been feeling a little uneasy, though he’d tried to push the feeling down. It wasn’t like Tabby not to respond to his message, he’d thought, but then he’d realised that he didn’t really know her well enough to know if it was like her or not, so he’d swallowed his worries and cracked on with his day. Now though, as he waited and there was still no sign of life, his jaw tightened, muscles threading with tension, and he knocked again, louder this time, wandering along the front of the building to peer in through a window. The living room was cloaked in darkness, and he huffed in frustration, wondering if perhaps she wasn’t in after all. Tugging his phone from his pocket, he pulled up Tabby’s number and hit call, holding it to his ear, only to move it away again when he heard a ringing coming from inside. He waited, ears pricked for any sound of movement, but none came, and the call went through to voicemail.

“Tab!” He rapped his knuckles against the glass, trying to ignore the knot that had formed in his gut. “Tab, ya in there? S’Daryl! I brought yer car!”

Still nothing.

Swallowing hard, he considered his options for a moment before reaching for the front door handle and giving a tentative twist. It swung open. Not immediately suspicious, he thought, if she hadn’t left the place since he’d brought her back from the bar a couple of nights ago. He hadn’t been able to lock it behind him when he’d left, since she only had one set of keys, though he wondered if perhaps he should’ve reminded her to make sure it was secure when he’d called the next day. He could see piles of clutter in the living room, and he flicked on the light to see that the closet at the far side was hanging open, its contents spilling out over the floor. So, she’d been going through her dad’s things. He’d been right to be worried.

“Tabby, s’me! Ya home?”

“Daryl?” This time there was a response, a teeny tiny voice that sounded a little broken, and he followed it down the corridor towards the rear of the cabin.

“Tab?”

“In here.” To his right, the door to the bedroom stood open, and, as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he could just make out a mass tangled in the covers.

“Hey,” he greeted her softly, stepping inside and finding himself assaulted by the sweet, floral scent of her. “Y’alright? Ya sick or somethin’?”

“No.” She sniffled, and he moved closer, perching on the edge of the bed so that he could ease the duvet away from her face and take in her puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “Just sad.”

“S’wrong?” He felt rather than saw her shrug, the blanket shifting beneath him as she moved. “C’mon, talk to me.”

“Why?” The covers fell away from her as she sat up, her hair a wild tangle as she stared at him, and, though there was a bite to her tone, it didn’t match her expression. She looked lost, he thought, rather than angry, and it made him want to gather her up in his arms and protect her. “We’re not friends, Daryl. The only reason you’re here at all is because my damn car broke down. So, why would you even care?”

He felt his hackles rising, bristling at her assumption, a small part of him wondering if he’d just imagined the lunch she’d brought him, the drinks at the bar, the kiss she’d brushed over his cheek in her drunken haze. He’d thought it felt like friendship, perhaps even more, though he knew better than to hope for that. A woman like Tabby was a million miles out of his league. “S’that what ya think? That I don’t care?”

Guilt flashed across her face at his words, and she dropped her gaze to his knee where it was hitched up on the mattress. “Yes? No? I don’t know. I-I just… I have no one, Daryl. There is nobody left that gives a single damn about me, and it’s just… It’s scary, and it’s lonely, and I hate it. I hate feeling like this. I hate not knowing what I’m doing, and I feel like I have nothing, and everything’s just gone so wrong, and it’s weighing on me today. It’s so heavy, I can’t breathe, and… and…’ She tailed off into sobs, and instinct had him reaching for her, seeking out her hand, so he could lace his fingers through hers and rub soothing circles over the backs of her knuckles.

“I care,” he told her, ducking his head to force her to meet his eyes. “I give a damn.”

“You don’t know me enough to care.”

“Don’t mean I don’t.”

“You don’t even know that it’s my birthday!”

There it was, the reason that she’d ended up in this state today of all days, he realised. It was her birthday, and she’d spent it alone, stuck out here in the woods. For Daryl, that would just be par for the course, what he’d expect, but he knew that she was the kind of girl that people made a fuss of, the kind of girl with a big crowd of friends, and parties, and gifts piled high. It broke his heart to think that she’d woken up this morning, without any family left, to not even receive, from what he could see, a single lousy card.

“S’yer birthday?” She nodded. “M’sorry. Yer right, I din’t know.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” she assured him, pulling herself together, though her voice still shook. “I’m sorry. None of this is your fault, and it’s not your problem. I shouldn’t be putting this on you.” She scoffed. “Bet you wish you’d just left the keys in the ignition and run now, huh?”

He shook his head. “Nah. Ya shouldn’t be alone when yer feelin’ like this.”

“I am alone.”

“M’here.”

And he was, she noticed. Despite her outburst, he was making no move to pull away, stammering out an excuse to leave and heading for the door. He was still sitting there, his hand warm in hers, his callouses rough against her skin. And, despite the fact that she knew she was a mess, unshowered and sodden with tears, in her dad’s gilet and her ratty sweatpants, he was looking at her as if she was something special, something worthy, and that so nearly had another wave of tears crashing over her.

“Thank you.” She cleared her throat, using her free hand to scrub over her face and brush her hair back, sitting up a little straighter as he watched on with concern. “Really, thank you, but I’m okay. You can go. I’m sure you have better things to do tonight than sitting here and listening to me feeling sorry for myself.”

“Not really,” he admitted, and he saw her bottom lip tremble and knew he had to do something to distract her from her misery before she fell apart on him all over again. “Actually, yeah, yer right.” He pushed himself to his feet, using his grip on her to tow her with him, and she reluctantly released the covers as she stood, looking somehow smaller and more fragile in her broken state. “C’mon, ya gotta get outta this house. Go, take a shower an’ we’ll head out an’ grab some dinner.”

“Daryl-”

“Tab!” He cut off her protest with a sharp shove in the direction of the bathroom. “Get yer ass in there! M’starvin’.”

*****

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Feedback is always appreciated and reblogs get my motor runnin’! 🖤 Thank you for reading x

#the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x ofc #daryl dixon x oc #broken

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 3 years

Text

IUI - The Way I Love You

bear with me here folks

I know the Idiots are usually soft af. but my lovely spouse/fiance/soon-to-be-fiance and beta @dani-dandelino hit me with an idea and I added a dash handful of angst bc i couldn’t help it

Warnings: feelings of inadequacy, fear of breakup (no actual breakup I promise), miscommunication, drunk af Geralt, past shitty relationships, happy ending tho I promise, there’s tears but they’re happy I swear.

______________________________________

Geralt only ever got sloppy drunk when Jaskier was the DD. It wasn’t necessarily that he didn’t trust anyone else, it was that he didn’t trust his drunk boyfriend not to goad him into something stupid.

The last time they’d both gotten fucked up outside of their apartment they woke up with three traffic cones and a “Speed Hump” sign in their living room. When they asked Triss what happened she sent them a video of them giggling as they tried to fit the sign into her trunk.

After hanging the sign in their apartment, they decided it may be best to take turns.

This particular instance, they’d dropped Triss and Yen off and were on their way home, Geralt’s head lolling against the window as he fought to stay awake.

“I’m not carrying your perky ass upstairs,” Jaskier laughed, snapping his fingers near Geralt’s ear.

Geralt grumbled but sat up straight and leaned into Jaskier’s outstretched hand, “Radio.”

Affectionately rolling his eyes, Jaskier pulled his hand away and flipped on the radio. Geralt immediately gasped and started singing along off key and slurred. The first time Jaskier heard Geralt scream along to Taylor Swift he’d been shocked, if extremely endeared.

“BUT I MISS SCREAMIN’ AND FIGHTIN AND KISSIN IN THE RAIN! IT’S TWO AM AND I’M CURSIN’ YOUR NAME! SO IN LOVE THAT WE ACTED INSANE, AND THAT’S THE WAY I LOVED YOUUUUUUUUU!”

Jaskier turned the volume down to a reasonable level when Geralt cranked it so loud his ears might start ringing. He rolled his eyes when Geralt started singing it to him, taking the shortcut home and trying to ignore the little pit forming in his stomach.

When the song ended Geralt turned the radio down and picked up his hand not gripping the steering wheel, “Jask?”

“Mhm?”

Even in the car, Geralt glanced around conspiratorially before whispering, “I have a secret.”

Fear flared in Jaskier’s chest but he took a deep, calming breath, reminding himself who he was talking to. His boyfriend thought secrets were fun. Mostly because Geralt’s version of a secret was keeping what he made for dinner a surprise until Jaskier got home. He’d even felt guilty not telling Jaskier he was seeing a therapist when they’d started dating. For all his gruff exterior and suspicion, Geralt really was an open book with those he loved and trusted. Jaskier had a very different idea of what secrets in a relationship meant.

“What’s that, love?”

Geralt giggled as he traced the edges of a magnolia on the back of Jaskier’s wrist, “That is the way I love you.”

Luckily for Jaskier’s car, they were rolling up to a stop sign. He had time to loose his breath for a moment and fight back the initial feeling of shame and anger with himself before he pulled his hand away and gripped the steering wheel as he punched the gas.

Through gritted teeth, he said the gentlest thing he could think of, “We don’t kiss in the rain.”

Geralt frowned, almost pouted at him, “I still love you.”

A part of Jaskier wanted to scream at Geralt, another part wanted to pull over and make him walk home, thankfully the loudest part reminded him the idiot was just drunk. He didn’t know what he was saying and he thought he was being sweet. There was also a good possibility he would cry himself to sleep in the passenger seat if Jaskier yelled at him and last time he tried to carry Geralt to bed his back hurt for a week.

“I love you too,” Jaskier sighed as he pulled into their parking spot.

He didn’t sleep well that night. Not because his sweaty, smelly, and fidgety boyfriend clung to him in his sleep, but because he couldn’t stop thinking about the ride home.

Jaskier had lived in relationships like that for most of his adult life. Hell, even in his teens. They were nothing but all consuming passion with no connection to support it and left both parties jaded and lost. When he left his mentor he’d sat in Yen’s chair for hours and hours, until his arm had gone numb, and the only thing he could think was ‘never again’.

And now Geralt thought he was being cute. The ridiculously meticulous and serious man was only ever sappy when he got drunk and now instead of reveling in it like he’d like, Jaskier was staring at the clock on his nightstand calculating how exhausted he’d be in the morning as the minutes ticked by.

Turns out, he was at least in the land of the living by the time Geralt shuffled into the kitchen with his hands in his hair and a pained expression.

“Feel like shit.”

Jaskier hummed in agreement as he sipped his morning tea and shifted in his seat to see better out the window.

After popping a few anti-inflammatories and nibbling on a cracker before giving up on food, Geralt lumbered up behind Jaskier and draped his arms over his shoulders, “What’s wrong?”

“S’nothing. I’m just being… touchy.”

Geralt pressed a light kiss over the hellebore tattoo on Jaskier’s neck, “I doubt it.”

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as Jaskier laid his hand over Geralt’s arm across his chest, “I don’t want to lose this.”

“Why…? What makes you think you would?” Geralt was a little slower on the draw hungover, but he knelt next to Jaskier’s chair and rested a hand on his knee as he waited for a response. He only ever looked so worried when Roach had an abscess and it broke Jaskier’s heart. He didn’t want to say it and ruin everything.

After a deep breath in, he mumbled out his answer, “Do you really love me like that song?”

“What song?” Geralt breathed, his thumb brushing back and forth over Jaskier’s knee.

“The uh, Way I Loved You one.”

Geralt searched his face for a beat, the crease between his eyebrows only deepening, “Of course I do.”

“Fuck,” Jaskier breathed, biting his lip to keep it from wobbling as he forced all the air from his lungs in the hopes it would do something to stop the tears from falling. When it was clear he would lose the battle he leaned forward with his elbows on the table, hiding his face in his hands.

“You… don’t want me to?” Geralt sounded close to tears himself, but he didn’t take his hand off Jaskier’s thigh.

“No- yes! No?” Jaskier sniffed and wiped at his face but didn’t lean back to look at Geralt, “I- Geralt I can’t just fill a hollow relationship with lust. We ha- I thought we had more? But if you want the- the fights and the hate fucking- I don’t- Geralt I don’t want that. Not with anyone but not with you. Ne-”

“Hey, hey,” Geralt tugged at Jaskier’s arm, gathering him to his chest when the brunette melted into sobs, “I don’t want that. That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry I let you think that.” He cradled Jaskier’s head to his shoulder, pressing kisses into his hair between softly spoken apologies and reassurances. They stayed there until Jaskier’s tea went cold and his sobs were closer to little gasps.

Eventually, Jaskier lifted his head and met Geralt’s eyes, “H-how do you love me?”

Geralt licked his lips, his voice barely above a whisper, “Not- It’s not hollow.”

Jaskier squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead to Geralt’s, “Please?”

One of Geralt’s hands came up to cup Jaskier’s cheek as he took a deep breath, “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you… I never wanted to be romantic with anyone until you. You… You make me feel… safe. I’m never bored of you or numb or sick of you. This is the first relationship I’ve had where I bother to fight, Jask. I love you so much it makes me do things I never thought to do and I’m glad and I never want to change anything about us. Never.”

A shiver ran down Jaskier’s spine as relief flooded his whole body. His throat ached from crying and his shoulders were sore from holding all that tension in a way they hadn’t for years, but he’d never felt so good. Geralt loved him. Him. Not some tumultuous relationship or the sex or the drama of it all. Someone finally loved him for him.

It hadn’t really hit Jaskier till then. They’d said ‘I love you’, sure, but he hadn’t really believed Geralt, just like he’d stopped believing the string of selfish lovers before him.

“Thank Mellitelle,” Jaskier laughed, just on this side of hysterical as he tightened his grip around Geralt’s shoulders, “I fucking love how boring we are. And you. Fuck I really really do love you.”

“Even when I smell like my regulars?” Geralt teased, intentionally huffing a little extra and dosing Jaskier in his horrendous hangover morning breath.

Jaskier wrinkled his nose but smiled and kissed him anyway, “Of course.”

“Mhh,” Geralt pulled away for a moment, brushing his thumb over Jaskier’s crows feet in a silent request for him to open his eyes, “Can we go back to bed?”

“The crying does it for you, huh?” Jaskier chuckled, his voice was still weak but his laugh was genuine.

“I’m so dizzy, Jask,” squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head ever so slightly, Geralt plopped back onto his heels. If Jaskier hadn’t witnessed just how much he drank he’d say he was lying, but Jaskier was truly surprised he’d even climbed out of bed this morning.

“Mkay, up. Back to bed then.”

They settled under the blankets and tangled themselves back together. Geralt hummed, closing his eyes and squeezing Jaskier a little tighter.

New, happier tears threatened at the corners of his eyes but he pushed them down, opting to trace the corner of Geralt’s buttercup tattoo peeking out of his shirt, “I love you.”

Geralt took a deep breath in before he sighed out a rumbling, “I know.”

“No, Geralt. Really,” Jaskier laid his hand over the yellow and green ink, “I’ve said these words more times than I can count but I don’t think I ever really understood them until you.”

“Jaski-”

“I love you,” Jaskier’s interruption was far smaller and far more fragile than he had intended. His words just continued to spill out, “You’re steady and calm and I’ve never had that. I don’t know what it’s supposed to be like and I’m constantly scared I’m gonna fuck it up…”

Comforting fingers ran through his hair as Geralt murmured his reply, “Me too,” Jaskier just squeezed his shoulder in a bit of solidarity and a bit of selfish comfort, “But I think we’re doing alright…”

“Why’s that?”

“Well,” Geralt started, shifting so he was practically engulfing Jaskier, “we both still love each other, and...” his boyfriend pinched him when he trailed off, pretending to fall asleep in a way that always mad Jaskier giggle, “Ow- and you use the hooks by the front door.”

“I do, don’t I?” Jaskier sniffled, “And you used your words.”

“I’d use all the words for you.”

“All of them?”

Geralt really was drifting away this time, his words coming slowly as his arms relaxed and Jaskier felt their full weight over him, “Not well, but I would...”

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mattsunism · 4 years

Text

nsfw! kozume kenma x female reader

warnings: cockwarming, riding, oral/facepainting (??is that the word)

“K-Kenma! Um, I’ve had a big crush on you for a while!”

Piercing golden eyes bore back into your own, causing all your built-up courage to quickly wither away. You had held eye contact with him for a second (maybe two if you were being generous) before turning your eyes to look down at your shoes, suddenly being very aware of your burning ears and realizing that maybe, just maybe, confessing in the middle of the parking lot of your college campus was not a very smart move on your part. But, in your defense, it was better than asking him in a 200-person lecture hall.

The target of your confession let out a low sigh, a hand coming out of his sweatshirt pocket to nonchalantly scratch the back of his neck.

To be honest, Kenma paid no mind to your confession. In fact, even in the midst of your sudden burst, the tired boy was more preoccupied with the upcoming shareholder meeting that he knew he would have to take part in. The matter of fact was, he barely knew you enough to care. All he could remember about you was that you would lend him pens during lecture and would give him a cute smile while doing so.

Kuroo had been nagging him to do something other than play games... so he supposed that it wouldn’t hurt to accept your confession. Begrudgingly, he admits, he had been a bit bored ever since he stopped playing volleyball in high school.

He suddenly let out a small laugh at his thought of comparing you to volleyball, bringing his sleeve up to cover his mouth. Your head raised slowly to look up at him, confused at his random action.

“Ah, sorry. So, do you want to go out?” He tilted his head slightly, his eyes glistening with amusement.

“Eh?” You were caught off guard. Yes, you were ecstatic, but you never

“Oh, but I have one condition.” Kenma let out, continuing once he saw you shake your head fervently. He let out another chuckle at your puppy-like actions, before resuming his words. “If you get boring, I’m dropping you. Got it?” Without giving you a chance to question his words, Kenma gave you a knowing smile and turned around to head towards his red sports car.

“See ya later,” he called over his shoulder, getting in his car and driving away. And there you stood, head empty and mouth slightly agape at the fact that your (objectively) lame confession actually worked.

Despite Kenma’s seemingly lethargic and quiet nature, he was rather… forward when it came to his desires. And such is partially the reason why you’re sitting on Kenma’s lap, one leg on each side of his body, the fabric of your underwear pushed naughtily to the side to make way for Kenma’s hard length.

Well, to be fair, it’s not as if you didn’t enjoy this side of him. A light sigh brought you out of your thoughts, and you pulled your head away from the crook of Kenma’s shoulders to look at the screen behind you.

The taunting music that blared from the screen indicated the gamer’s loss, and you felt your thighs quiver in anticipation. “Damn it, so close too.” Kenma clicked his tongue, brows furrowing slightly at the flashing GAME OVER sign on the computer screen. He brought his fist down to lightly hit the arm of his chair, and you squirmed in his lap at the sudden jolt of movement.

He looked down at you, giving you a deceivingly sweet smile. “Give me a minute to save my data. You can wait a bit longer for me, right?”

You bit your lip and gave him a slight nod, unable to trust your own voice. Kenma pat your head in approvement, murmuring quiet words of praise in your ear. “That’s my good girl. Thanks for keeping my cock nice and warm in that sweet pussy of yours.” He pressed a light kiss to the side of your face, wholly enjoying your submissive state.

An idea popped into his head, and he smirked before giving you a mock pout, golden eyes peering innocently into your own. “Hey, kitten. I’m a bit tired from playing, so can you move?” Seeing your hesitant face, he dropped his innocent facade to give you a sly smile. “C’mon. You know how much I like to see you bounce on the cock that you love so much, hm?”

Eager to please, you bit your lip shyly and shifted on his lap to get into a more comfortable position. With one hand on Kenma’s shoulder and the other on the armrest, you slowly lifted yourself up, suppressing a moan at the way his dick slid out of you. You then began to slowly ride his dick, eyes fluttering at the way Kenma’s hard cock began to slide out of your achingly wet pussy.

You were already sensitive from being forced to keep his cock warm during Kenma’s matches, and it didn’t help that the sound of your pussy sucking up his cock only turned you on further. In a desperate attempt to satisfy the unbearable heat that spread throughout your body, you increased your pace of fucking yourself on his dick.

Kenma put two fingers in his mouth, coating it with his saliva before bringing his slender digits down to rub at your swollen clit. The sudden stimulation brought you over the edge in no time, and you couldn’t help but moan Kenma’s name loudly as you grinded down onto him to prolong your second orgasm of the night.

“Aw, did you come again? Already?” Kenma faked a sigh, mockingly shaking his head in disappointment. “You’re going to have to work harder so that I can come too, y’know. I’ve taught you not to be selfish, right kitten?” You nod fervently at his words, too immersed in the pleasure of his cock hitting your sweet spot over, and over, and over again.

“Mhm, I’m a good girl, just for you, just for you Kenma,” you let out, moaning lewdly as you feel Kenma’s fingers flick at the swollen nub of your clit teasingly.

In an effort to prove your earlier statement you dip your head down, lips coming down to meet Kenma’s own. You moan into his mouth at the sensation of his tongue coming in contact at your own, and you lightly pull at his bottom lip, knowing his weak spots. You pull back only to travel further down, your lips nipping and sucking lightly at his jawline, creating a trail of marks down to his collarbone.

Kenma let out a breathy moan, his head coming back to push against the headrest of his chair. Thin fingers press into your sides before roughly pushing you down to sink onto his length.

“A-ah?!” You couldn’t help the yelp that escaped your mouth as you heard the base of his dick slap against your skin, and you shuddered at the overstimulation.

Kenma continued to bounce you on his cock, biting his bottom lip harshly to prevent himself from moaning. After a few thrusts Kenma pulled you off his lap, and you felt your legs quiver before falling down into a kneeling position onto the floor, unable to find the strength to stand. Kenma wrapped a tight hand around his cock, letting out a low growl as he palmed at the tip of his hard, red tip.

“Come here kitten, take it.”

You leaned in close enough that you were but a few inches from his cock, your mouth opening and your tongue coming out of your mouth. At the sight of you waiting so eagerly for his cum Kenma couldn’t hold himself back any further, forcing his eyes open through his orgasm to make sure he aimed properly.

Thick ribbons of white spurted out all over your tongue and inside your mouth, and you couldn’t help but feel the tingles that spread throughout your body at the sight of Kenma pumping his cock and aiming his cum in your mouth.

He watched you with lidded eyes, taking care to make sure that you took all of his cum and swallowed it like the good girl you were before letting his head loll to the side, thoughts muddled from the overwhelming pleasure buzzing through his veins. After taking a few moments to come down from his high he raised his arms out towards you, eyes blinking slowly as a lazy smile spread across his lips.

“The floor must be cold. Come here, baby.” Almost immediately you leap into his arms, your arms coming around to circle his torso and your head finding home at the crook of his neck.

“Can we take a nap?” You murmur, your voice slightly muffled from your face being pressed into his body. Kenma nuzzled his nose into your hair, smiling at your cute request. Wordlessly, he gets up from his chair, carrying you to the bed at the corner of the room. He sets you down carefully, noticing your drooping eyes, and brushes a stray piece of hair away from your face. He takes a second to laugh at your quiet whines calling him to bed before going to the bathroom to dampen a towel to wipe down your tired body.

Padding back into the bedroom, Kenma lets out a breathy laugh when he sees that you’ve fallen asleep, your arms wrapped tightly around his pillow. He admits, you’ve grown on him. To him, you’re far more interesting than any video game he’s ever played.

#kozume kenma #kenma #why did??? tumblr delete my post??? eyem #kenma x reader #kenma smut #kozume kenma smut #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu!!#hq #nekoma

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physicalturian · 3 years

Text

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 2

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 5016 Archive of our own

Warning : Consensual BDSM / Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Cybersex / Stranger / Flirting … If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

-- Part 1 -

The heat of two bodies against one another. Skin upon skin, fingers grazing tenderly. Hands gripping suddenly, forcefully yet securely. I am holding onto dear life on his broad shoulders. My nails digging inside the skin. It makes him grunt in pleasure. I can’t hear it over my own sound of pleasure. My head lolls back, my neck is being attacked. Bites, kisses and words against it. My entire body is aflame. I’m now holding onto the bed head. I’m not surrounded by darkness anymore.

The landscape has changed, I’m not on my bed. It’s a hospital bed. No one is around, someone is on top of me, I can’t see their face. But it feels good. Hot breath against my skin, soft hands on my hips. The increasing pressure inside-

“Hey wake up! If you want to ride with me to campus, you better get your ass out of bed.” I was startled awake by one of my roommates who seemed on edge. From what my brain understood, I was late and from the look on her face, she was pissed.

Squinting my eyes at the sudden light from her brusque action of opening the curtains, I groaned. Her heels hitting the floor made my ears ring, it was too much too quickly but I wasn’t going to say anything. The ginger girl was stopped dead in her track by a hand on her shoulder, a softer voice spoke, “Come on Nami, look at her. Clearly, she went to sleep late again, give her some time to clear her head.” Robin said a lot calmer. With a small smile, she gave me a nod and pushed Nami out of the room.

“You have ten minutes at best, hurry up. She has plans today.”

“And I am hungry, could you make me a sandwich while I get dressed Robin?” I asked with the softest pleading eyes I could manage at this hour. She smiled knowingly in return and nodded, but did not leave until she added, “It’s the last time you leave crumbs on the counter from your midnight snacks.”

With wide eyes, I grimaced and nodded. It made her chuckle as she closed the door behind herself and left without a word.

The moment I was left alone, I remembered the dream I was having and hurriedly got out of bed. “Nasty brain, naughty.” I mumbled while undressing. Sure, erotic dreams weren’t bad, but the fact that I had dreamt about that stranger was something entirely new. Maybe it was to be expected if we interacted more like we did last night, if we had more sessions like last night’s one. Damn, am I that needy for a good fuck? Is this what I’ve become? I thought with a huff.

Once I was dressed, I grabbed my phone and all that I needed for class before leaving the room. On my way out I saw the notification that had popped on my screen, a message from the doctor but it was one from last night.

HandSurgeon: I’ll allow you to call me doc, just because my username is not very adequate when shortened. But watch it.

Looking at it I laughed and wrote back, albeit later than when he had sent his message.

Edelweiss: Good morning to you too, doc. Hope you were able to catch some z’s, because of you I almost missed my class.

Edelweiss: kidding, it’s entire my fault but I want to blame it on you for the fun.

I shoved my phone in my pocket when I heard my two friends’ voices, telling me I needed to hurry and hurry I did. I grabbed the sandwich Robin handed me and thanked her with all my heart, telling her I’d make the food tonight but she told me she’d rather not die of food poisoning at a young age.

“Come on, I can make some things! We’ll order in, then?” I said, leaning on the counter with a grin as I took a bite of the food.

“Careful, Nami has invited her best friend tonight. He’s constantly famished, and eats a large amount of food so I’ll take you up on that offer another day. Now off you go, Nami’s waiting in her car.”

Giving her a thumbs up I leaned off the counter and pondered, “So Nami’s cooking tonight? I see why she’s stressed out now. Anyone else coming by?” I asked quickly. Robin chuckled elegantly, her back leaning against the counter, in front of me, with her arms crossed over her chest. “He might bring one of his friends, but it all depends on his schedule. Nothing definitive yes. Now off you go!” She shooed me, smiling. Most of her classes were in the evening, and yet she woke up that early every day.

It was also fascinating how, even when in her pajamas she looked so dignified.

Without losing any more time, I waved her goodbye and rushed down all the flight of stairs to jump into Nami’s car. “Good morning-“ I closed my mouth when she gestured for me to shut up, pointing at her ear and at the board. Looking at the screen, she was on a call with someone but started the car without another word. I could only hear her replies, but tried not to eavesdrop. To stop myself from falling asleep, I took my phone once more and saw a message from HandSurgeon.

I hated how it sent excitement coursing through my body. Was I remembering the thrill of last night or was I that interested in talking to him? I did not ponder the question longer and opened the app.

HandSurgeon: Good morning Edelweiss. Are you feeling good? Physically.

HandSurgeon: We’ve barely done anything. But don’t worry, you’ll blame me later when we’ll have more fun.

Edelweiss: I’m great, a bit sore but that’s on me.

Edelweiss: don’t threaten me with a good time 😩, you can’t start the horny talk this early in the morning. How do you expect me to focus during my classes?

HandSurgeon: Haha, I’ll stop. Do you have time to talk?

Edelweiss: ominous much? But yes, I do have time to talk. Something on your mind?

A knot formed in my stomach, I started to worry he’d say we couldn’t keep doing this. Would it be that bad? We’d known each other for so little time, it’s not like I couldn’t find someone else to fuck.

I huffed at my own thought, I could find someone else but did they have HandSurgeon’s charisma? Unfortunately, no, I was bound to be horny for a strong doctor that I did not even know the face of.

HandSurgeon: I got a bit too excited last night, I forgot to mention the most important info.

HandSurgeon: Those being: we can stop whenever you’d like. We can try whatever you feel comfortable trying. If you said you were ready to do something, but in the end feel like you can’t do it: tell me. You can change your mind, it works the other way around, too. You can say you want to try something even though you were against it at first.

HandSurgeon: I won’t always be up to… play but I will be willing to help you if you ask nicely. And if I’m awake.

HandSurgeon: Finally, always call me sir, during our sessions.

I hid the relief I fell in real life, when I read all his messages. I did not want Nami to ask me what was wrong, nor who I was texting, but it was hard to hide the satisfied smile on my lips. Pursing my lips, I thought of what to answer without looking too desperate.

Even with the thought put into it, I read my message over a few times and desperation dripped out of it.

Edelweiss: you scared me, I thought you were going to just disappear or something. I’m good with all of this. If I can add one, be honest with me? Like, uh…

Edelweiss: If I’m being too pushy, but you’re busy, tell me, I’ll calm down haha.

Edelweiss: So… I agree to the terms, sir.

I saw him type, then stop. Then type again, before stopping again. Had I said something bad? I was going to put my phone away when he replied.

HandSurgeon: Good girl.

HandSurgeon: Now, I won’t be able to play tonight, but I’ll be free to text if you’d like.

HandSurgeon: It’ll give you time to rest, that way we’ll fuck you good once you’re feeling better.

I choked on my saliva. Why was he this casual saying things like this?

Edelweiss: I-

Edelweiss: I said don’t get me horny, the audacity you have to be that good with your words.

Edelweiss: I’ll be busy tonight too, but I’ll text you if it gets a bit boring.

Edelweiss: Also, are you not like… cutting people open or something? Why would you be awake this early with how late you went to sleep?

HandSurgeon: It’s cute how easy it is to get you flustered. Very interesting too. But I’ll stop for now.

HandSurgeon: Since you’re curious, I’m in bed. I have to meet with my intern in an hour, he’s very eager to learn.

HandSurgeon: Just like you, but maybe I find one more satisfying than the other 😉

Staring at the screen, I hesitated and felt my cheeks heat up. I wanted to be horny and ask him for a picture, or be funny and ask him for a picture. Both could work together, but should I flirt or ask in the most stupid way possible? I was curious if he’d be willing to send anything, I’m sure it’d make my day if he did send me a picture but I did not want him to force him either. You can’t force a dom to do shit, idiot, my common sense told me.

Edelweiss: send pic or fake.

HandSurgeon: Of my intern?

Good fucking lord, I’m an idiot. I typed back quickly, trying to fix my stupidity.

Edelweiss: of you in bed.

Edelweiss: maybe I’m asking for a nude? 🤔

HandSurgeon: Are you, now? What sparked that need? Do tell me. I’ll consider.

Edelweiss: I’m curious, and I wonder if you sleep dressed or not 😳

Hit and run. That’s all I could call what I had done. I dropped that message then locked my screen and stared straight ahead, regretting sending it. I couldn’t delete it since he had probably seen in, considering we were both online at the same time. We were both staring at the conversation, craving for more, awaiting the other’s reply to weight our own answer in return.

Covering my mouth with my hand, I rested my elbow on the small space by the window and felt my heart beat faster. I shouldn’t feel like that, I had literally fucked myself to his guidance hours ago. And yet, there was this stressed from asking him nudes. I mean, I hadn’t asked a dick pic per say… If he slept in pajamas it clearly wouldn’t be a nude, so…

My phone vibrated in my hand, I looked down so quickly my head slipped off my hand and hit the window with a thud. “Are you good? You look nervous, do you have a final today or…” I heard Nami ask. She threw me a side glance but kept her gaze focused on the road.

I was so focused on my own conversation; I had not realized she was done with her call. Had she been watching all of my reaction since then? No… no, probably not.

“I’m good, just need a bit of sugar.” I paused and continued casually, “Robin told me Luffy’s inviting someone tonight? Are you cooking or are you planning on ordering? They better pay their own shit, if we order in.” I grumbled, hoping to make her drop the subject.

I needed to stay focus on what she was saying but my brain was drifting to the pending message on Discord. Fortunately, my distraction worked and she replied, “If he’s coming, I’ll make him pay the entire orders.” She scoffed as she pulled up into the parking, her eyes still focused in front of her. “He owes me, and since it’s last minute, I’ll use that against him to not pay my food.” She added. I laughed at her logic, was it really last minute if she knew he was coming since this morning? Shaking my head, I unlocked my phone and opened the text.

HandSurgeon: [sent an attachment]

While I masked my reaction, my eyes sure widened for the span of a second. On that very screen was a picture of the doctor, or more precisely, his crotch covered with just a thin blanket covering it. I could see the shape of his cock, and it made it more sinful than a full dick pic. The v shape of his lower stomach, along with the happy trail, made the whole thing hotter than it was supposed to be. Is this for fucking real? Thinking for a second it might be a catfish, I finally looked at the rest of the pic and saw a badly torn piece of paper with the word ‘Edelweiss’ scribbled badly on it.

“Damn, who’s is this? Girl, you tapping that?” I quickly turned my phone face down and looked at Nami with what probably looked like guilt. “What? No. I’m on Twitter. I don’t have time to literally fuck around, too busy.” I stated, putting my hand on the door handle as I took hold of my bag.

She was about to say something else, but we spoke at the same time and she let me talk. “What time do you finish? I’ll be done around 5 pm if you’re still there.” I stepped outside the car and slammed it shut, waiting for my ginger friend to join me.

“Around that time too, we’ll head right back home after. I think Luffy and his annoying friend will already be there. I’ll sent you the menu, so that you can pick from it.” She then hurried off when she saw one of her classmates waving her over.

I let out a sigh and looked back at my phone, typing back while marching towards my class.

Edelweiss: Are you kidding me? Dude…

HandSurgeon: I’d prefer you call me doc than dude. Although sir is the most appealing… But what’s wrong?

Edelweiss: You’re telling me, someone that hot is on weird websites when I’m sure anyone would want to fuck you. No offense, but you’re probably very hot, so why are you like… domming online? Instead of your own pretty little sub in real life? Not that I’m complaining! I like it.

HandSurgeon: Schedule is shit. And I’ve been told I’m bitter. But I’m glad you’re enjoying it, I’ll get dressed now. You focus on your class.

Edelweiss: Oh I am definitely enjoying it, a lot.

Edelweiss: by the way, I came to a realization this morning…

Then we sent a message at the same time, I laughed nervously.

HandSurgeon: So you think of me when you sleep? Very cute.

Edelweiss: my brain was slow last night, but like. Did you sext me while in your office?

Edelweiss: maybe I did think of you in my sleep, but I don’t think we need to talk about that, my question is definitely more important.

I almost tripped over nothing, from looking at my phone instead of the path but I managed to make my way to class without a hitch. Throwing my bag over the desk, I sat down and waited for my professor. Checking Discord once more,

HandSurgeon: I did. It’ll happen a lot too.

Edelweiss: damn that means no sexy live for you

I replied without thinking. The loudest sigh escaped my lips, what even did I mean by that? Was I really considering giving him a show? What was I expecting from telling him that? I mean sure, if time goes on and I get more comfortable it could be fun…

HandSurgeon: If that day comes, I’ll be sure to get my earphones. I’m sure you’d actually enjoy the thrill of showing yourself off. Knowing full well I’m watching, maybe with a hand in my pants, ordering you around. There will be a “sexy live”, if you’re comfortable enough… The fact that I’m in my office only adds to the charm. Wouldn’t you say?

I blinked a few times, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard. I typed something then deleted it. I paused and typed again, before deleting it once more. Was he wrong? It was very exciting, just thinking about it. Even more so knowing he was willing to be in that situation, at his desk, looking at me getting off under his command. But also, even more knowing he’d be at his work place, where anyone could walk in on him being in such an embarrassing situation.

HandSurgeon: It looks like you’re speechless. But do answer me, would you get off on knowing someone could walk in? Knowing we could get caught, knowing they could see you fucking yourself on screen just for me. Just to please me. They wouldn’t know it’s you, but you’d know. My good girl fucking herself, showing off her perfectly fuckable body just for me.

I let my head fall back against the seat and took a deep breath. I felt suddenly self-conscious, even though I knew no one knew what was going on, on my screen. And yet, I had to look around to make sure before typing with a lot of hesitance. He hit the spot, I hated how right he was. But I replied in all honesty.

Edelweiss: …

Edelweiss: yes…

Edelweiss: I’d like that…. sir…

Edelweiss: I need to focus on my class, but now I don’t know if I’ll be able since you just went off and made me very much distracted now.

HandSurgeon: My hand slipped.

Edelweiss: the a u d a c i t y, then do tell me where it’ll slip next time 😉

Edelweiss: ok, no. that was bad. I’m trying, I’m not as good as you okay?

HandSurgeon: I think it’s a conversation best kept for late hours, wouldn’t you say?

HandSurgeon: I have to go. Focus on your class, or think of where you’d like my hands to go. The choice is yours, Edelweiss.

HandSurgeon: [send an attachment]

There it was, another picture of him. This time it was his gloved hand gripping the fabric around his thigh tightly, the sleeve of his long shirt was slightly risen. I could catch a glimpse of the hair on his arm but focused on the length of his slender fingers. Of the way his fingertips were digging in his pants, of the lines his muscles drew on the back of his hand and maybe of, once again, the fact that he was sitting at his desk. Instead of replying, I took it in and locked my screen to try and focus on the class.

I never thought I’d have a medical kink, but my thought would sometimes drift off, imagining him in his full surgeon outfit. Sitting on his chair, legs spread open while looking at me with a smirk. What it’d look like, I do not know, but I could only imagine the sultry gaze he could give me while in that position. He’d pat his thigh for me to come over and let me ride it- Shaking the thoughts away, I told myself to focus, and tried my best to keep up to that promise.

The rest of the day, I kept my hands off my phone the best I could. I wanted to keep texting HandSurgeon and have some fun, tease him the way he was teasing me but I did not know how to push his buttons. Suddenly I realized I had never asked what were his kinks. By default, being in control must have been one of them, but I was curious as of what else he enjoyed. I made a mental note to ask him next time we talked, maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, it all depended on tonight’s fun.

Right, tonight… I don’t even know who’s the guy that’s coming over. Nami said that Luffy’s friend was annoying but maybe she was a bit biased since she was easily frustrated, which was ironic considering her best friend was the most tiring person ever. At some point during the day, she sent me a text with the name of the restaurant we were ordering at and told me to pick whatever I wanted.

Seeing the prices, I had to make sure she had sent me the right restaurant and sent her a text asking if it was alright. Her reply was, “I told you he owed me, he said to choose whatever restaurant I wanted. And I did. He has the money, might as well use it.”

I winced at her words and sent her my choice with a lot of reticence, adding, “If I get yelled that for picking something, even though I don’t know the guy, you’ll pay for my food.” She was quick to reply and told me it’ll be okay. “The dude might bitch and moan about it but he’ll eventually accept it” were her words. I don’t really know if it had helped or worsened my anxiety but I just let her do her thing and went on with the rest of my day without a hitch.

I was able to focus on my classes and assignments after a while, when my brain finally decided to shove the whole HandSurgeon conversation in the back of my head.

The day came to an end right on time. I had done my fair share of thinking for the day and needed a break. Knowing a nice warm meal was waiting for me at my apartment only made things ten times better. I rushed out of my last class with haste, almost bumping into other people and dropping my phone but I caught it before anything dramatic could happen.

When I stepped outside, I was met with a drizzle and had to walk faster to Nami’s car. I was lucky to see she was already there, waiting inside of it with music playing loudly. She was trying to fix her hair the best she could, and gave up when it looked half-decent. A startled gasp escaped her lips when I opened the car door and slipped inside, greeting her, out of breath.

“You scared me!” She gasped, a hand on her chest.

“Is it my fault? You’re on edge, not me.” I huffed, throwing my bag in the back of the car, making the ginger groan when she received a few droplets on her clothes. Apologizing, I buckled my seatbelt and we drove back home in a good mood. Food always lifted spirits, even more so after a draining day. On our way home, Nami started renting on how I will have to keep Luffy’s friend away from her because she couldn’t handle his attitude.

I did not dare ask her what happened but listened carefully. She did not give me any useful information about him, only telling me he was “arrogant, annoying, he’s bitchy and way too cocky because of his job.” I winced and was expecting the worst, probably a business man that was too proud of making money or a politician. No, no… Luffy would never befriend people like that, right?

All kind of ideas simmered in my head until we reached our apartment. I don’t know why, but I was going to knock. I quickly caught myself and unlocked the door, hanging my coat in the entrance as I took off my shoes. “Robin? Have they arrived yet-“ I was cut off when the excited black-haired man came rushing in and wrapped his arms around both Nami and I. She laughed and hugged him back, while I pushed him away, smiling softly. “Hello Luffy, let me get changed first? I smell like a wet dog.” I scoffed.

He agreed and pulled Nami to the side, bringing her to the living room. I did not look their way and instead went back to my room to get changed. Maybe I could catch him before he went to his evening activity? I kind of wanted to have a bit of fun before going back to eat… But then again, did I have time? Humming pensively, I locked my door and stripped naked then pulled out my phone.

Edelweiss: Good evening, can I suggest something? I want to make my evening more fun… maybe have something to look forward to this evening…

I waited a moment, sitting on my desk chair completely naked. It was frisky and I felt well… naked. Was it too bold? Should I just delete the message and get dressed? I did not have time to ponder longer that the little dot next to his name turned green. He had answered.

HandSurgeon: What do you suggest? I’m all ears.

Edelweiss: let’s say… I wanted to keep something inside me the entire evening… like an egg, you know those vibrating egg but like, not turned on because that’d be too much.

Edelweiss: here, this:

Edelweiss: [sent an attachment]

I made sure we could see my lower body, the hand holding the toy was right above my thighs and I angled it so he could see most of it. When I sent the picture, I felt the pressure in my stomach grow, maybe he’d refuse and I was getting excited over nothing.

HandSurgeon: I won’t be able to guide you, gorgeous.

HandSurgeon: But… I think it’s a great idea. Although, I need to be sure you’re not too sore to have some fun tonight.

Edelweiss: I’m good, I’m great. Don’t worry, I can definitely handle this. I mean, if you want to, sir.

HandSurgeon: The eagerness ever so present, you’re being very good asking for it. I would hate to punish you.

HandSurgeon: Let’s do it, if you think you can’t take it anymore send me a message and take it out.

HandSurgeon: But I’m sure a good girl like you could take it entire night, wouldn’t you agree?

My answer was to send him a picture of the toy inside me, my free hand gripping my thigh while spreading them wider.

Edelweiss: [sent an attachment]

HandSurgeon: Fuck. A warning next time. I’m not against more pictures, but let me remind you I’m not alone tonight.

HandSurgeon: Or is it what you’re looking for? You want to show off to me, but also to them? The odds of the people here looking at my phone are low, but they’re not null. That’s what gets you off.

I was going to reply but he sent another message that sent something coursing straight between my legs. The throb I managed to numb after this morning’s talk came back without much efforts needed.

HandSurgeon: Maybe to calm that eagerness, we should turn it on? Have you dripping wet for tonight? Would that help with how needy you’re feeling right now? You’d be surrounded by, let’s say your friends. But your thoughts would be nowhere near that, no.

HandSurgeon: You’ll be thinking of me. Of what I’d do to you tonight, looking forward to obey. To be on your knees, in your bed, expectant in front of your screen. Like a desperate girl, pleading for some relief.

My hand slipped on my desk and grabbed the little remote, pressing it to turn the toy on. I let out a shaky breath at the sensation, spread my legs wider to try to press it deeper but finding my attempt fruitless.

HandSurgeon: Get dressed, and go join your friends. I’ll be available to talk in a few.

HandSurgeon: But don’t get too greedy. If you think you’re getting close, you turn it off. I want you begging for an orgasm tonight. Are we good?

Edelweiss: Yes sir. More than good.

Edelweiss: Maybe… maybe I could call you, no video, to do it…

He’ll ask for me to be precise. But I felt like my pride would take a hit if I wrote it down, did I want to beg? I gave it a thought while getting dressed in a fresh pair of clothes. Usually I wouldn’t want to beg, but it felt different here. Maybe I could use this moment to find out more about him, his tastes… his kink.

HandSurgeon: “It”?

Edelweiss: Beg. You want me to beg, I am suggesting to do it on a call. That’s what you want right? You get off on being in a position of power but what else do you like?

HandSurgeon: I’ll have you begging, no matter what. That’s the fun, dear.

HandSurgeon: Now you’re curious about what I like? We’ll talk about it after tonight’s session, right now I have to go. Have fun, be good.

I thought it was going to be child’s play. The vibrations weren’t that strong, and it’s not like there was going to be a lot of things that’d turn me on during a friend gathering. Right? Right. It’s what I thought until I joined everyone in the living room and there stood a definition of handsome. I don’t know what Nami said about him but I’m sure she never mentioned how hot he was.

Nami, Luffy and Robin were sitting on the ground by the low table. They were taking the boxes of food from the bags and giving them to everyone. What caught my eyes was the man sitting in the couch, almost lazily. He was looking at the three people with something close to boredom, his arms spread on the back of the couch.

Suddenly I regret trying to make my evening more fun… Or did I? I’d have to see how the evening go to make an opinion on being in the company of such a beautiful man when I had my own hardship going.

[Part 3]

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chloelucia13 · 3 years

Text

Chapter 18: E Pluribus Unum

Pairing: Jonathan Byers x female!Henderson!reader

Prompt: You always thought Hawkins was the most boring town of all, stuck in a vacuum void of excitement and entertainment. Well, it seems that way until the world decided to flip upside down, literally.

Chapter Summary: The horrid night at the hospital brought up many worries about you, especially for Jonathan. With the party’s advice, Nancy and Jonathan devise a plan to hopefully get you back to normal.

Word Count: 3720

Warnings: pretty angsty, a little fluff, language, violence, gore, discussions of possession and lack of autonomy, mentions of death, different perspective in italics

A/N: We’re getting close to the end of season 3! I’m thinking I’m gonna space these episode rewrites between some extra scenes I couldn’t fit into the story and some individual one shots, but let me know what you think! As always, my in box and tag lists and requests are all open! Love you!

Tags: @just-my-fandom @nightbu-g @neemonroe

As Nancy and Jonathan watched the creature shift form and trickle through the vents in the door, panic flooded through their veins.

Jonathan contemplated running back to you and waking you up, to beg for you to take control of that thing and save Nancy. But as he thought about it, the image of your panicked face flashed in front of his eyes. He saw how fearful you were that you were losing control, that you might put everyone at risk.

Ultimately, he decided that you being asleep was for the better, but that didn’t make this situation any easier.

He heard a thud from inside the room as he gripped onto an oxygen tank and began to ram it into the door handle to try and break it off. After that proved fruitless, he shifted his efforts to the glass window in the door, watching the webbing cracks grow longer and longer but the glass still didn’t cave.

The creature let out a blood-curdling roar as a herd of footsteps approached Jonathan. Defeatedly, he stumbled back and tried to heave in a few breaths as Eleven stepped up to the door and tore it from its hinges. As the door crashed to the ground, the creature turned to screech at the group that was herded in the doorway.

“Jesus,” Mike gasped as Max hissed out a hushed “what the fuck” under her breath.

The creature rushed towards El, who was now a few steps inside the room, and she quickly swung her hand to the side, effortlessly tossing the creature against the wall. Then another wall. And then the ceiling.

Screams fell from El’s lips and the monster’s pincer-like jaws as it collided with the floor, though it quickly gained its composure and scrambled to its legs. It began to crawl forward with a vengeance, but Eleven threw her hands forward and sent the creature flying out the window.

As soon as they heard the splat of the creature hitting the pavement, Jonathan rushed into the room to check on Nancy while the party rushed down the stairs. Once she gave Jonathan a reassuring nod that she was, in fact, okay, they followed the party down the stairs and out to the parking lot where the creature laid.

The creature dissolved into that strange coagulation of guts and gore once more before inching over to a storm drain and dripping down into the tunnels.

Once there was to remnants of the creature lingering on the asphalt, Jonathan’s worry shifted to you, who was still on the abandoned floor of the hospital.

“Y/N,” he spoke, quickly turning on his heel and heading back inside.

“She’s in there?” Max asked incredulously, her eyes tracking Jonathan as he nodded quickly before disappearing behind the hospital doors.

His footsteps echoed throughout the stairwell as he rushed up the stairs two at a time, pushing through the door to the third floor. Panic was clouding his brain, hoping that you were still there and you hadn’t slipped away before he could try and help you. God, he just wanted to make you okay again. Make you you again.

As he rounded the corner to the room where you laid, he could barely even feel his feet from how overused they were. Nevertheless, he pushed forward, calling your name as he entered the room.

Luckily, you were still on the floor, and the inky veins seemed to have faded from your skin. You were so still, so motionless, though, as you laid on the cold linoleum that it worried Jonathan.

He gently knelt beside you and rolled you onto your back, one hand cupping your cheek while the other felt for a pulse on your neck. Once he felt the stead thrumming under his fingertips, he let out a sigh of relief. His hand left your cheek to brush a few strands of hair away from your face, letting his eyes soak in your relaxed features for only a moment before pulling you into his arms and lifting you off of the floor.

***

Your eyes began to flutter open from the movement, a small sigh falling from your parted lips. “Jonathan?” you whispered, panic beginning to seep into your veins.

He glanced down at you as he walked, each limping step making your head loll slightly. “Hey, it’s okay,” he hummed, clearly sensing the anxiety that had took hold.

Your gaze flickered over every bruise that marred his face. “I’m so sorry, Jonathan. I couldn’t take control. I couldn’t stop it.”

He shook his head. “It’s okay. We’re gonna get this thing out of you.”

You shook your head fervently, gripping onto his shirt. “Jonathan, you can’t. I’m gonna hurt you. I don’t have enough energy to keep the flayer at bay.” To say that you didn’t have enough energy was a sever understatement, though. You felt as though you’d been awake for days and had just run a marathon. Your body was screaming for sleep, your eyelids already beginning to droop.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

“Jonathan, I don’t want to hurt you. Please.”

As he stepped out of the stairwell and through the exit of the hospital, he softly shushed you. Your mouth opened to argue, to beg for him to leave you and protect himself, but it fell shut along with your eyelids as the gentle rocking of his steps and his voice lulled you to sleep.

***

The drive to Hopper’s cabin was tense and silent, everyone in shock of what had just occurred. That, and the fact that they were harboring the leader of the flayer, the creature that was on a mission to kill.

Jonathan had volunteered to sit in the back of Nancy’s car with you on the ride there so that he could keep an eye on you, and though Nancy gave him a look of worry, he proceeded with his plan.

He sat with your limp body leaning against him, your head resting against his shoulder and your open mouth fanning your warm breath on his neck. With his girlfriend in the driver’s seat, his mind wandered back to the night before when your lips were pressed against his. He thought about the many times he had woken up with you in his bed, when both of you had fallen asleep to a mixtape that was still in the tape deck by morning. When the sunshine fell perfectly on your face that had a ghost of a smile lingering on it. When your legs were tangled with his and your head was resting on his chest, warm huffs of air falling from your lips and mingling with his breath due to the close proximity.

He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt at ridding himself of the thoughts, though all he could see was that rare glimpse of peace that he’d witness when you slept.

With a huff, he looked down at your sleeping form and watched your shoulders rise and fall with steady breaths.

He wished he could see the flutter of your eyelids as you dreamt, but they were hidden behind a scrap of fabric as a precaution in case you had awoken.

Once Nancy parked in front of the cabin, Mike assisted Jonathan in carrying you out of the car and into the house. Gently, the two boys laid you on the bed of the spare bedroom that was tucked away in the very back corner of the cabin.

As Jonathan slowly closed the door behind him and locked it, Mike gave him a look. “What?” Jonathan whispered, tucking the key into his back pocket.

“You should probably tone down the heart eyes a little bit,” Mike advised, arching a brow at Jonathan.

Jonathan’s brows furrowed in bewilderment, glancing around quickly before stepping close to Mike and lowering his voice. “What are you talking about?”

“Dude, are you that oblivious?” Jonathan shrugged, and Mike let out a sigh. “It’s super obvious that you’re in love with Y/N-”

“I am not!”

Mike stared at him silently with a look of extreme doubt, and Jonathan’s shoulders slumped. “Just try to tone it down a bit, dude. For Nancy.”

Guilt washed over Jonathan’s features at the mention of Nancy. “I just... I don’t know what to do.”

Mike gave him a look of sympathy. “Whatever you do, just don’t hurt either of them.”

Jonathan nodded silently and the two boys parted ways.

***

You woke with a start, searching around the room with wide eyes and a racing heart. You shoved the heavy comforter off of your body and scrambled to the carpeted floor. “Hello?” you called out as you balled your fingers into fists.

The floor creaked with each step, but everything else was silent. “Hello? Where the fuck am I?” you called out once more, stepping up to the door and trying the doorknob. The door didn’t budge, and your breath new fell from your lips in short bursts as panic took over your body.

Your fists collided with the door a few times, letting out a scream of frustration when the wood didn’t give. “Goddammit, let me out!” You threw your body against the door, but the door still held strong. “What the fuck are you going to do with me! Let me out, you son of a bitch!”

***

On the other side of the door, everyone who had fell asleep in the living room woke up from the pounding and the screams. Each person glanced to someone else in the room, silently communicating their panic from the adverse reaction you were displaying to being confined into an unfamiliar room.

Jonathan and Nancy quickly rose from their spot on the couch, Jonathan signaling at everyone to stay quiet while Nancy grabbed onto the rope that they had found the night before. Silently, both teens approached the door with caution and light footsteps.

*** Your outburst easily tired you, and you stumbled back onto the bed with a huff, your gaze fixed in a glare on the door.

It seemed to be only moments later that the door creaked shut, two figures slipping through the opening before slamming it shut once more. The two people slipped into the crack of sunlight that shone through the blinds, revealing themselves to be Nancy and Jonathan.

“Get away from me,” you hissed, shuffling back into the furthest corner of the bed. The two exchanged a look before Jonathan turned his back and headed over to the desk in the room that was accompanied by a wooden chair.

Nancy gripped onto your ankles and pulled you out of the corner, dragging you against the sheets and causing them to bunch up underneath you. You let out a growl and kicked with all your might, but she had already tied a quick knot around your legs. With another harsh tug, she yanked you off of the bed and onto the floor. You let out a gasp of pain, feeling all of the air escape your lungs and leave you winded.

Jonathan pulled the chair away from the desk and set it behind you and Nancy before rushing over to Nancy and assisting her in lugging you onto the chair. With your free hands, you gripped onto Jonathan’s shirt and tugged with all your might in an attempt to pull him to the ground, but to no avail.

The two sat you in the chair, and Nancy quickly freed Jonathan’s shirt from your grip. A huff left your lips as Nancy yanked your arms behind your back, tying them together before knotting it to the chair. “Let me go,” you said simply, showing no emotion whatsoever. Jonathan clenched his jaw, handing Nancy the other set of ropes for your legs. “Oh, I’m getting the silent treatment now?” You shook your head, leaning forward as much as your binds allowed you. “I said. Let. Me. Go.”

“Just ignore her, Jonathan. It isn’t her,” Nancy said, finishing up the binds on your legs before pushing herself to her feet. “I’m gonna get the heaters.” With that, she left.

“Isn’t her? Hell, I’m just voicing her concerns, her needs. And what she needs is for you to let her go. You don’t wanna break her heart, do you, Johnny? Not like all the other times you had?”

“Shut up,” he hissed through his teeth, eyes trained on the blank wall behind you.

“Oh, he speaks!” You flashed him a sinister smirk. “And why exactly should I shut up? I’m just speaking the truth-”

“You don’t know the truth-”

“Oh, but I do. I have access to her thoughts, her memories, everything. Like I said, I am her. And god, did you hurt her. When you saved Nancy from the Upsidedown but not her. When you ditched her for Nancy all those times, so you could ‘help Nancy,’ when little miss Y/N was the one needing help all along.”

He gulped, clenching his fists.

“All the times she let you run off to do god-knows-what with Nancy while she watched the kids. Watched your own brother.”

“I said, shut up-”

“You know she wished she died that night, in the tunnels. She didn’t want to be the sad damsel in distress anymore, didn’t want to be saved.”

Tears began to cloud his vision, and he turned on his heel to face the opposite wall.

“She wished she was with you. Wished she was in Nancy’s spot, helping you and your brother. But no, she had to go with the kids and Steve, had to be on the brink of death. She had to wait for you to help her, the thing she dreaded the most. You seeing her weak.”

“You’re lying. S-She doesn’t feel that way-”

“Then why do you feel so guilty? It’s tangible, I can almost taste it.” You leaned back, eyes trained on the back of his head. “And then you got a job at the Post with little Miss Nancy, leaving Y/N to work at the public pool with Billy. Leaving her to get possessed by the flayer. By me. Can’t you see, Johnny boy? This is all because of you. All her pain, her aching, because of you.” You chuckled softly, a sinister sound that reverberated in your chest. “Because of you, she was left vulnerable, open to being taken by me. I could tell, no matter how many times she cried for you, for anyone to help her, she needed this. She needed this little… Boost of confidence, let’s say. A lack of a filter.”

He sniffled, shaking his head softly. “Why should I believe anything you say?”

“You don’t have to, but I know you do. Because you know it’s all true.” You wiggled your fingers and toes, trying to get some circulation back into them. “You know that saying, sober thoughts are drunk actions? Think of me as the alcohol. I take her over, get rid of her filter, and let the truth run wild.”

He spun back around and stepped towards you, crouching down so he was eye-level with your face.

“That’s it. Look at what you did to her. Look at the scars.” You pursed your lips, smirking slightly. “She scares people. She doesn’t want to go outside, doesn’t want to be a spectacle, a walking freak show.”

“She’s not-”

“Did she ever tell you that she has to wear glasses because of her eye?” He shook his head. “She’s too scared to wear them around you. Doesn’t want to seem weird. She has constant headaches because of it, because she can barely see out of her one eye without them.”

His lower lip quivered slightly, his hand inching up to cup your face.

“She can hear you, Johnny. She can see you.” Another bone-chilling laugh. “She’s begging me to stop, but what’s the fun in that?”

“Screw you.”

The door squeaked open and shut, Nancy stepping in with a couple more heaters. “Sorry it took so long, I had to dig them out,” she explained, stopping when she took notice of the odd scene in front of her.

“Good. Let’s get this out of her,” He sighed, standing up straight and helping Nancy plug everything in.

You sat silently, a near-pout on your face as the pair worked on plugging in the multitude of heaters that Nancy had found. “I didn’t know you wanted me gone so badly,” you sighed, giving Jonathan a puppy-dog-eye look as he risked a glance at you.

The room already began to feel at least ten degrees warmer as all of the heaters got to work, and you glanced down in disdain at the sweater and jeans you wore. Nancy and Jonathan took a seat on the bed, their eyes trained on you as if you were a caged animal.

“So what did you guys do the last time you watched someone get exorcised?” you hummed, that fake smile settling on your lips once more. “Did you makeout, maybe sneak off to do god-knows-what together? It seems that that’s what you both are best at when people need your help.”

Nancy’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What?” she whispered, clearly bewildered by your bold statement.

You cocked your head to the side, feigning innocence. “Don’t you remember? Last year, you and Jonathan had gone off and disappeared while little Will was basically on his deathbed. All he needed was an older sibling, someone to comfort him, and Y/N, had to take up that role because you two were too busy.”

“We were trying to get justice for Barb-”

“And as a result you almost got everyone killed.”

“Shut up!” she screamed as she shot up from her seat and leaned close to you, close enough for you to see the sweat beginning to bead on her forehead. “If you say another word, I’m duct taping your mouth shut.”

You clenched your jaw and stared her in the eye, your chest heaving with heavy breaths. Jonathan reached forward and gripped onto Nancy’s forearm, prompting her to look back at him. They exchanged a glance and she contemplated their silent conversation for a moment before settling back down onto the bed.

The room grew warmer and warmer and the tension grew thicker and thicker. Everyone had stayed silent during that time, but that didn’t mean that you were shooting glares at the pair the whole time.

But that heat definitely began to worm its way between you and the flayer, acting like a knife between flesh and meat as it slowly cut away the flayer’s vicelike grip on you. However, as the flayer’s hold on you began to slip away, the days of sleep you’ve missed started to catch up with you.

Your eyelids drooped as sweat trickled down your face, your breaths ragged and hitched from the dry heat and lack of water. “Jonathan, Nancy, please just let me go,” you cried, weakly wiggling your hands and feet in their restraints.

“Y/N, you know we can’t,” Nancy answered, looking away from you so she wouldn’t feel guilt from the state you were in.

Nancy and Jonathan were suffering too, sweat making their clothes cling to them like a second skin. But they knew that if you were stuck in this miserable heat, they had to be too. They had to save you, no matter what it took.

Tears welled in your eyes and you let out a tired cry of frustration. “Please! I-I can take control of the mind flayer again and I can keep it from you guys! I can kill it! Please, just let me go!”

Nancy could tell that Jonathan was weighing the outcomes of each option, clearly caving in from the guilt and the heat. “Y/N, we need to get this thing out of you,” Nancy spoke up. “You only have so much control. We can help you.”

“You can’t help me!” you screamed, startling the pair and making them recoil slightly. “Just let me go! Let me go, you sons of bitches!” You began to violently thrash in the chair, prompting the two to get up and try to hold you down. Your screams grew louder when the attempted to restrain you, and they shared a horrified look when those familiar inky veins began to snake up into your skin.

Your strength grew as the flayer slowly slipped into power as a last ditch effort to continue inhabiting its host, and with one quick yank of your arm, the binds snapped from your wrist. Nancy scrambled to pin your wrist down, but once your other hand freed itself from its confines, both Nancy and Jonathan knew that their efforts were fruitless.

Jonathan rushed to help Nancy, both of them wrestling to keep you restrained while you fought against them with all your might. Your sweat-slicked skin seemed to prove advantageous as you quickly slipped from their grip, yanking the binds around your ankles and breaking them free.

The pair shared a panicked glance as you rose from the chair and shoved them both off of you. “Leave me alone,” you growled, your voice uncharacteristically deep as those black veins protruded from your skin. “Or there will be consequences.”

Jonathan hurried over to you and gripped onto your wrist, giving one last effort to try and help. That clearly was a mistake, though, as you snatched your arm back and landed a quick right jab to his jaw. He stumbled back and clutched his jaw, but as he looked up at you, a flash of guilt and fear could be seen in your eyes. It left as soon as it came, and he hopelessly watched as you slammed your fist into the window and escaped through the newly made exit.

***

Your eyes drooped with exhaustion as you sat on the landing of the stairs, head leaning against the railing as you stared out at the crowd of the flayed that were neatly lined up in single file rows.

“That-that girl,” he spat, pacing back and forth behind you. “She caused all of this.”

You nodded slowly, your face blank and emotionless.

“But we’ll win. Soon, we’ll talk control. We’ll end her, them, everyone. Everything will be ours.”

“When?” you hummed, slowly lifting your head from the railing to look up at him.

“Soon.”

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justthehiddleswrites · 3 years

Text

Tight Spaces | Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Summary: Tom and the reader just can’t wait to get back home before having some intimate times.

Warnings: Smut, Sex, Vaginal Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Public Sex, Car Sex, Trying To Conceive

You squeezed Tom’s knee for about the twentieth time in the span of thirty minutes. He shot you daggers as he moved your hand once again.

“Ten more minutes.” he answered with a stern tone as he turned back to the conversation.

“You said that an hour ago.” You slumped in your chair like a petulant child.

Tom sighed and turned to you. You never enjoyed attending industry events but struggled through for the sake of Tom. Your impatience was a new development.

“Why are you so eager to leave, darling? The party can’t be that boring.” His eyes looked at you with concern.

You leaned against his arm to press your lips against his ear. “I’m ovulating.”

Tom’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he hissed as he glanced around the room for the exits.

“I texted you this morning.” You kept smiling as Tom squeezed your hand. “I thought you were just being an ass.”

“I broke it yesterday on set. The replacement is coming on Monday.” Tom tugged on his trousers, his thoughts drifting to more private matters. “Give me five minutes.” He stood in a rush and headed off to the other side of the room.

You rapped your manicured nails against the tablecloth while your foot tap against the floor.

Tom slipped behind you with your coat. “We’re leaving.” He offered as he pulled your chair out.

The two of you walked swiftly toward the car. Tom held your door open for you as he moved around the car to the driver’s side. As the car pulled away from the venue, Tom glanced over to you and smiled.

“We will be home before you know it.” He raised a knowing eyebrow.

You checked the route as it was out of town some ways. “Tom…” You tapped his shoulder. “… there’s traffic the entire way home. It is going to at least double our time back.”

His face dropped as he eyed you up and down in your evening gown. “I don’t think I can wait that long.”

You chewed on your lip as you thought about the options. “You could pull over into one of these side streets.” you offered.

Tom slowed the car. “I was thinking more along the lines of a hotel room, darling.”

You leaned across the center to massage Tom’s thigh. “Where’s your sense of adventure, darling?” You cooed as your fingers skimmed Tom’s crotch.

Tom huffed, but he turned the car off the next abandoned street. He found an unlit, flat area to pull the car over and slipped into park.

“If any of this makes it into the press, you are explaining this to Luke.” Tom commented as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

With much effort, you crawled over the center of the car. Tom undid his belt and pants. He pushed them along with his boxers down enough to allow his hardening cock to pop free.

“The things I do for you…” Tom muttered as he pushed your skirts up around your hips.

You smirked as you attempted to straddle Tom’s lap. “You love me for the things I make you do.” You bumped your head on the roof. “Car sex looks so much easier in the movies.” you grumbled as you work on getting yourself situated.

Tom chuckled underneath you. “Everything looks easier in the movies. Trust me. Here…” Tom leaned the seat back to give you extra headroom.

“Thanks.” You leaned forward and kissed Tom, nipping at his lips. “I love you.”

Tom’s hands raked up and down your sides as you rocked on his lap. He gripped your hips. “I love you too, especially when you do the thing you’re doing right now.”

“You mean this.” You sucked at Tom’s neck.

“Not exactly.”

“Oh…” you said in mock surprise. “Did you mean this?” You pulled your panties aside and guided Tom inside of you.

“YES!” Tom moaned as you impaled yourself upon him.

His hands fisted the fabric of your dress as you rocked onto him.

“And what about this?” You gripped the back of the seat and pulled off of him and then pushed back on him. Tom snapped his hips to meet you.

“Fuck! Darling, I am already close but…” Tom found your clit amongst the fabric and pressed against the nub. “… ladies first.”

You arched your back as a wave hit you, bringing you closer to release.

“Ever the gentleman.” you moaned.

“I’m close.” you whispered into Tom’s ear as you continued to ride on top of him.

“Then cum for me, dear.” Tom moaned as his head lolled back, his release close.

“Tom!” you moaned as you arched your back and your head follows. You clenched around Tom.

“Darling!” Tom breathed as he spilled inside you. He thrusted his hips up to ride your high. “Take it all.” he murmured.

“Yes.” you panted. You collapsed against Tom’s chest. His shirt clung to his sweaty torso.

Tom’s drew circles on your bare back. He kissed your forehead. You curled against his chest and picked at the buttons.

“Darling?” He crooked one finger under your chin.

“Yes?” you said in a haze.

“My legs are going numb. And we still need to get home.”

You chuckled and Tom’s body shook underneath you in laughter. “Are you saying it’s time to go?”

“I’m saying yes, it’s time to go.”

You rolled off of Tom as he opened his door to allow you to exit gracefully. Tom pulled his pants up and zipped himself up to follow you out of the car.

“My dear.” Tom opened your door.

You giggled. “We need to have car sex more often.”

“We are never doing that again.” Tom slammed the door and put the car into drive. “Ever.”

“But we have a great story.”

“Like we are ever telling anyone about this.” Tom snapped.

“Oh, we are telling people how our child was conceived.” You couldn’t help but laugh at Tom’s flared nostrils.

“We are not… wait, how can you be so sure?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Just a feeling.”

Tom squeezed your hand. “Here is to your feeling.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston imagine

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heauxplesslydevoted · 4 years

Text

Take Care (Ethan x MC)

Summary: Set sometime between chapter 18, Ethan forces Naomi to take a break.

A/N: Okay the other day when I posted that i was writing tooth rotting fluff, this isn’t what I had in mind. That story will come later this week.

~v~

“How long have you been here?”

The question startles Naomi awake, Ethan’s stern voice cutting through the hazy cloud of sleepiness invading all of her senses.

If she didn’t have his handsome features committed to memory already, she might not have been able to make him out, her vision getting blurrier and blurrier as time ticks on.

“What?”

“How long have you been here?” Ethan asks again. “When was the last time you stepped out of Edenbrook?”

It’s a valid question, one Naomi hasn’t given any thought to. “What day is it?”

“Thursday.”

“I’ve been here since Saturday night,” Naomi confesses. Saying it out loud is slightly sobering. The past few weeks have flown by in a blur so unlike anything she’s ever experienced before. But with the hospital closing down soon, there’s no time to waste these days. The people of Boston will be down a hospital, and they still need help.

Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Christ, Naomi.” Yes the hospital is shutting down, but he’s sure there are countless laws she’s violated in the meantime, as no one is supposed to be at the hospital for triple digit hours at a time.

“What? You’re the one who said we should spend our time helping as many people as we can.”

Leave it to her to throw his words back in his face. She’s gotten increasingly better at it, and he’s not a fan.

“Okay, but I didn’t say you had to move in to do so. And you’re always saying I don’t have a work-life balance.”

Naomi’s arms extend and she gestures widely to the bench she’s sitting on in front of the cafeteria. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“On the verge of collapsing,” Ethan quips.

“I’m sitting,” Naomi argues. “I’m taking a break.”

“Are you currently with a patient?”

“No.”

“Good.” Ethan extends his hand for Naomi to take. After a beat of hesitation, she accepts. He lifts her out of her seat with a swift tug. “You’re coming home with me.”

“But–”

“It wasn’t a question,” Ethan deadpans. “It was an order.”

Naomi plants her feet on the ground, willing herself to not move. It’s a futile attempt because she’s too exhausted and weak to actually have the amount of strength it’d take to battle Ethan on this, but he respects her stubbornness and doesn’t carry her out. “Ethan, I’ll take a nap in an on-call room for an hour, I don’t need to leave.”

“Rookie, you’re clocking out for the evening,” Ethan says, his tone letting it be known that it isn’t up for debate.

“I’m back to ‘rookie’ now?”

“Yes, because you’re being petulant, and you’re not listening to me.”

“You’re not my direct superior anymore, Mister ‘We-Don’t-Need-a-Diagnostics-Team’.”

“I’m still your attending, you still have to listen to me. And I say you’re done for the day.” Not giving her the chance to respond, Ethan wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her close. She’s dead weight in his arms and he has to all but drag her to the locker room to retrieve her personal belongings.

Urge car ride to his apartment is silent, save for very idle chit chat. Naomi is too tired to speak, and she won’t admit it due to pure pride and stubbornness, but sitting in Ethan passenger seat on the way to his place is the most peace and quiet she’s had in a long time, not to mention the longest she’s sat still in days. Forever the know-it-all, Ethan picks up on her need for silence and solitude, and doesn’t say too much outside of asking her what she wants for dinner. They decide on a pizza, compromising on garlic chicken.

As soon as they step foot into the apartment, Naomi is assaulted by an overzealous golden retriever. He barks excitedly at her, clawing and licking at her scrub pants as a greeting. Jenner has grown used to her presence, the rare occasions she does actually leave Edenbrook are spent here, curled up with the large dog on the days he’s not in Providence with Alan.

“How’s my favorite boy?” Naomi asks, scratching behind Jenner’s ear. Jenner barks in reply, his tongue falling out of his mouth and lolling to the side as she makes himself comfortable under her touch.

After a few more scritches and whispered affirmations, Naomi forces herself away from the day, though she could easily spend all night with him in the entryway. She kicks off her shoes at the door and drops her purse there as well.

“Do you want to eat first?” Ethan asks.

The pizza did tempt her the entire drive here, but she desperately wants to take a shower. Maybe she’s losing it at this point, but she can still feel Edenbrook on her skin, and smell the sterilizing disinfectant the cleaning crew uses.

“I need a shower,” Naomi replies definitively, though she makes no effort to move. “Besides, scarfing down cold pizza is always a good idea.”

“Alright.”

Ethan takes her hand and leads her through his apartment, making sure she doesn’t bump into anything on their way to his en-suite

He turns on the water for her, the large waterfall shower steaming the glass planes almost instantly.

“Want some company?” Ethan asks.

“That sounds nice.”

Because she’s literally a zombie, Ethan helps Naomi out of her clothing, delicately peeling the baby blue scrubs off of her body and leaving a pile of discarded clothing on the floor. He follows, removing his own clothing with less care than he did hers, before walking them both into the shower.

For a long time neither of them do anything, Naomi too caught up in the heat of the water and Ethan’s amazing water pressure, and Ethan too enthralled in watching her.

Her skill is slightly pale, evidence that she probably hasn’t had proper sleep or food in Lord only knows how long, and he hasn’t seen dark circles under her eyes like this in months, since the night of the...incident as he’s decided to call it. She’s exhausted, it’s clear in the labored breaths that she takes, and Ethan is still sure without a shadow of a doubt that she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

Unable to stop himself, his hand gently cups the back of her neck, tilting her head back so he can kiss her again. It’s soft and unhurried as if they have all the time in the world to do this.

The kiss turns more urgent as some of the fog clears from Naomi’s brain. Standing on the tips of her toes, she wraps her arms around of Ethan’s neck holding him close, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

Ethan is rewarded with a tiny moan from his girlfriend, a moan that he swallows with the kiss before it dissolves into a low grumble in the back of her throat.

“I missed that,” Naomi admits as Ethan breaks the kiss.

“What? Kissing me?”

She hums in confirmation and leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss onto his chest. “I can’t even remember the last time I kissed you. The only recent memories I have involve me at Edenbrook, diagnosing patients.”

She’s right. Their only focus has been work, work, work, and Ethan can’t remember the last kiss either.

His thoughts are broken up by Naomi, her hands roaming aimlessly along his arms and shoulders. Her exploration goes further south until her nails are raking along his stomach. “When was the last time I touched you?” She asks quietly, her eyes boring into his. “When was the last time I saw you naked?”

A measured exhale escapes Ethan’s nostrils as her hands venture dangerously lower, slightly grazing his pelvis. If neither of them can recall their last kiss, trying to remember the last time they had sex would be a moot point. The nights they leave Edenbrook are spent collapsing in his bed as soon as they can, drifting into unconsciousness almost immediately. “I don’t know.”

“God, have we become old and boring already?”

“We’re just tired and overworked,” Ethan says. “It’ll pass soon.”

The words unspoken hang in the air, just as thick and heavy as the steam surrounding them. Soon they’ll have plenty of time to get back into the normal aspects of their relationship only because they’ll both be unemployed. Edenbrook will be gone before they know it.

Not wanting to dwell on that, Ethan shakes his head as if he will away the cynical thoughts. Instead, he grabs Naomi’s hands, holding them tight to his chest. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

“Really? Something begs to differ.” With a raised eyebrow, Naomi looks down curiously at the evidence of Ethan’s arousal, comfortable nestled between the two of them. Before she can reach down and touch him, Ethan shakes his head.

“I have the most beautiful woman, naked and wet in front of me. This was inevitable, but it’ll go away.”

“I can make it go away.”

“Mhmm-hmmm. Turn around, Valentine.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ethan rolls his eyes. How this woman always finds the space and opportunity to flirt with him is a mystery. Lining the walls of his shower are all of Naomi’s bath and shower products. He’s always making fun of her for being a product hoarder, though she insists everything is different—he’s been schooled on the differences between regular, leave-in, and deep conditioner, creams vs gels, body scrubs and shower gels many times and he still doesn’t see a need for it all.

Grabbing her favorite shampoo, Ethan pours a generous amount into the palm of her hand before gently running it through her strands of hair. He’s seen her wash her hair enough times to know the bare bones of her routine. Very careful of her curls, he makes sure to not roughly drag his fingers through her hair and risk creating a tangled disaster for her to handle later on.

Her head tips back. “Can I pay you to wash my hair from now on? I never want to go back to doing it myself.”

A swell of pride forms in his chest at the compliment. “No payment needed.”

Once he’s finished washing her hair and he’s coated it in conditioner —she insists on leave-in, as she doesn’t have the energy to put my more effort into her hair for the evening—Ethan lathers her in one of her shower gels, whichever one makes her smell like jasmine.

He moves slower as he does this, pressing his thumb into the base of her neck, massaging away some of the stress she’s carrying. His hands dig into her shoulders, between her shoulder blades, and her lower back, loosening the muscles as he goes.

Naomi doesn’t attempt to stop the moans fighting to spill from her mouth, no matter how obscene they sound. The relief that bloods her body is instant, his touch working out knots she wasn’t even aware of.

“You’re a great doctor, you cook, and you're an excellent masseuse?” Naomi sighs in content. “What can’t you do?”

“I told you I make it my mission to be good at everything.”

“I’m going to find your weakness one day, Ramsey.”

She’s his weakness, his Achilles heel, and Ethan can’t believe she doesn’t know it already. There’s no end of the earth he wouldn’t go to for her, no hoop he wouldn’t jump through, his feelings for her his fateful flaw and his greatest strength all in one.

He kisses her again, this time on the side of her neck. His breath fans her, heating the sensitive skin as he leans closer. “Good luck.”

He continues the massage in silence, careful to keep his touch away from places that would no doubt cause this to spiral into shower sex. And as lovely as that sounds, it’s not what Naomi needs, so he’s willing to forego his baser urges. Every once in a while she makes a comment about how amazing his hands are, but for the most part she’s blissfully silent.

He doesn’t stop with the massage until he’s absolutely sure she’s putty in his hands and all of the knots and spots of tension are gone. Even afterwards, they stay in the shower, his arm splayed across her midsection, his chin resting on top of her head.

“I don’t want to move,” Naomi says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m too comfortable right here. Can we just stay?”

Ethan chuckles softly to himself. “We can’t do that.”

��Why?”

“Well, the steam in here might actually suffocate us if we stay in here any longer,” Ethan starts. “And I’m not a fan of wasting water.”

“It’s not a waste if I’m enjoying it.”

“Touché. Not to mention your skin will get very dry, and you’ll be much more comfortable in my bed.”

“Okay, I guess you’ve made some valid points. We can leave now.”

She doesn’t make any effort to move, and Ethan quickly realizes he’s going to have to do all the work to get her out of here. He turns off the shower and opens the door, quickly inhaling. He didn’t realize how much he needed air until he was no longer in that glass box of steam.

He grabs two large bath towels off of the rack and dries them off. Naomi searches his countertop, now covered in her makeup and hair products until she finds a satin scrunchie to tie up her still damp hair.

They both meander back into Ethan’s bedroom, and Naomi searches through one of his spare drawers for something to wear. It’s full of her clothes, and a few items of his that she’s stolen over the past few months; a t-shirt here, a pair of socks there.

Once she’s bundled up in some of the warmest clothes she can find, Ethan ushers her into bed. “Are you ready for your pizza now?”

A stubborn yawn manages to slip out as she shakes her head. “No. I’ll get some before I head to work in the morning.”

“You’re not going to work tomorrow,” Ethan says.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re taking a much needed break tomorrow,” he continues. “I admire your tenacity, but I’m not going to let you work yourself to the bone and neglect your own needs in your very noble quest to help everyone in Boston. You won’t do Edenbrook any good if you collapse due to exhaustion.”

“But I–”

“I’m not asking you, Naomi, I’m telling you.” Despite his tone, a pleasant shiver runs down the length of her spine. “You’re staying here with me.”

She almost always has the upper hand in their arguments or debates, but Naomi can tell there’s no room for her to argue with him on this one. He won’t let her win.

“Okay,” she concedes. “No work tomorrow.”

Smug that he’s won this round, Ethan triumphantly slides into bed, wrapping an arm around Naomi, keeping her trapped with him. Unlike her, he didn’t put on any clothes, only a pair of boxers, but now Naomi is able to revel in his natural body heat.

He runs a thumb along her cheek, caressing her softly before kissing her forehead. “I am incredibly proud of you.”

“Really?”

“You’re an excellent doctor, and trust me when I say you’ve done more for this community that I’ll ever be able to put into words. And despite the hospital closing soon, I hope you realize the impact you’ve made in your two years here.”

Naomi nods, her throat getting thick with emotion. She’ll never be used to Ethan complimenting her like this. “I wish I could do more.”

“We all do. But at the end of the day, you’re still a human and you can only do so much.” Ethan’s hand moves from her face to her neck, his thumb tracing a pattern along her pulse. “I don’t want you to crash and burn, and best yourself up over something so completely out of your control.”

“Who are you and what have you done to Ethan Ramsey?” Naomi teases. She never thought she’d live to see a day where he’s scolding her for working too much and trying too hard.

“I’ve done a lot of reflecting recently, mostly due to you. If there’s any lesson you’ve taught me, it’s that there’s only so much I’m in control of.”

“Any other lessons or tokens of wisdom I’ve imparted on you.”

“You’ve taught me how to be more patient than I knew was possible,” Ethan replies. Naomi rolls her eyes at the slight teasing. “You’ve taught me how to see the world’s grey area. You taught me the true meaning of trust and forgiveness. You’ve shown me endless compassion and empathy, none that I’ll ever be able to repay in this lifetime or the next. I was your attending, your mentor, but trust me when I say you’ve taught me more than I could ever teach you, about medicine and life in general. So thank you.”

Maybe it’s the pure exhaustion or his really sweet words, but her eyes become wide and glossy with unshed tears. She blinks them away, not wanting to cry.

Instead she leans forward and pulls him into another kiss. She doesn’t know if she can convey the full extent of her love and adoration for him with a simple kiss, but Naomi’s never been the type to not try. When she pulls back, she rests her head against his chest, settling in comfortably.

“Thank you. For the kind words, and for taking care of me tonight. I’ve never had someone be as thoughtful as you.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” Ethan promises. He’ll give her the world if he can. “You just have to stop being so stubborn and let me do it.”

“I’m trying, I’m trying.”

“Now get some sleep,” Ethan commands. “Tomorrow, I’ll actually cook you a real meal. Not any of the garbage they serve at the hospital, and no more takeout, but–”

He stops short when he hears a soft snore fill the room. Looking down he sees that Naomi has managed to doze off in the mere seconds he was talking.

He’s never been so happy to watch someone sleep, as no one deserves it more than she does. He plants one final kiss on the crown of her head. “Goodnight, Naomi.”

~v~

Tags: @professorkingslay @nikki-2406 @maurine07 @aka-calliope @edgiestwinter @soft-for-drake @greenbean-kylie @akshara16 @bluebellot @honeyandsunfl0wers @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @paulfwesley @the-pale-goddess @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramseyx @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @mvalentine @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #open heart #open heart 2 #ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan x mc

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shotosprincess · 3 years

Text

Altruistic. — oikawa tooru ♡︎

ALTRUISTIC: showing a disinterested and selfless concern for the well-being of others; unselfish.

⤷ pairing: oikawa tooru ♥︎ fem! reader

⤷ summary: you accidentally get hit by the ball during one of oikawa,, your childhood best friend’s ,, practice games ,, and he immediately leaves to take care of you 🥺🤌

⤷ genre(s): super short one shot w lots of fluff ,, fluff ,, FLUFF!!

⤷ length: 1.7k

⤷ a/n: PLS i stayed up till 6am last night writing this purely bc i absolutely could not sleep without writing a soft moment w oikawa into existence (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃

“ Oi! Oikawa! Pass it here! “ The holler echoed through the gym, roaring solidly over the squeak of worn out sneakers twisting against glossy floors.

“ Iwa-chan! “ Oikawa’s smile scintillates with an undeniable anticipation as he pushes against the ball, hands flicking outwards as his toss to the teammate in question proved to be, in fact, successful. He spikes it down, the tremendous force exerted from both parties sending the dull sphere of ivory driving into the ground, leaving their opponents in the blatant, dirty dust.

It smacks right in front of their libero, who was far too stunned to even do so much as react in time. The shrill of a whistle ripples through the air. Seijoh’s side cheers, little praises and compliments slipping out from one teammate to another as back pats and playful head slaps were shared within their brief moment of celebration. The boys prepare themselves for another point to be won, bending their knees in a ‘ ready ‘ stance. Your heart melted. Oikawa’s earthy eyes glinted with a familiar sense of hunger, of true passion. You loved seeing him like this; buzzing and thrumming with such a raw, precise determination. You adored it.

Your hand reaches into the shallow depths of your sweater’s pocket, findling with its contents before finally pulling out your phone to check the time. The serve is hit, and just as your finger sides across the side of the case to actually turn your phone on—

A blinding pain stuns you, striking sharply at the side of your head. You see white, passing out due to the sudden unpleasant sensation. Your body falls limp, lolling to the side of your chair upon impact.

Oikawa’s head snaps in your direction, and his heart stops. He waves a hand dismissively, aggressively, in fact, through the air, signalling some sort of time out for obvious reasons. His stare burned right through the spiker responsible for your unprecedented injury. A dark aura seemed to even envelope him as he did. And in a low, threatening tone:

“ You’ll pay for this. “

Rushedly sprinting to your side, he kneels beside you, cupping your neck with one hand for support and wrapping his other arm beneath your legs. He lifts you up gently, gaze frantically darting from side to side, only to realize that no paramedics of any sort were currently present. A scoff leaves him, sending one last protective glare towards the hazel-haired player.

“ Continue the game without me. I’m taking her home. “

There is a prolonged beat of silence until he leaves, and the gym slowly begins to erupt with laughter and boisterous comments once again. He carefully places you in his car, tucking your bag of belongings in the empty space beneath your feet. The jangling key turns and clicks, the engine booms to life.

And he’s off.

“ Are you...Are you ok? “

Your eyes flutter open, lids still heavy, to the blurred sight of a very pretty boy with a very pretty smile. Chestnut swoops of hair frame his face in a fluffy frame. There is a certain kindness in his eyes. That’s when everything comes rushing back to you, and you realize the pretty boy before you is none other than the man who has put up with you ever since the first grade, Oikawa Tooru. And judging by your surroundings, you were in...his room?

“ O-Oikawa? “

“ Hey, you’re awake. Just in time too. I need to clean your wound. “

The skin near his eyes creases ever so slightly as his lips form one of the warmest smiles you had ever seen. He seemed...relieved. By an almost-unnatural amount.

His fingers move to tuck a straying tendril of hair behind your ears, letting the back of his hand delicately brush against the side of your face.

“ What...what happened exactly? “

Your memory is hazy, all you remembered was a sudden searing sting, which only evolved into a copiously throbbing ache. And then nothing.

“ Yahaba was being an idiot and accidentally hit you in the head with his serve. “

He pushes the heel of his palm against his head, groaning into it in annoyance and frustration. You say nothing, simply making a little “ oh “ face. His eyes close, a deep inhale clearing his thoughts.

For some reason, your eyes were immediately drawn to the abundant rise of his chest. You did not know why.

He puts his hand down, flashing you a half smile.

“ Well. It can’t be helped. You were passed out on the ride back. You’re in my house right now, but don’t worry. I’ll take care of you, ok? No flying objects can hurt you here. “

The lighthearted laugh which follows is accompanied by an odd longing to keep looking into his eyes. He pulls out a small medical kit from the drawer behind him, presenting a ball of slightly frayed cotton. It clumps together as he saturates it with the contents of an alcohol agent, the blue liquid quickly bleeding into the white.

You instinctively wince as his tweezers take the ball between its thin metal prongs, gently pressing it against your head. A harsh sting pricks through your skin. Your eyes tightly squeeze shut, and your head drops down to hide your face, embarrassed. The pressure immediately ceases.

“ Sorry. I forgot to warn you when I was going to put it. “

“ No, no that’s alright! It just...took me by surprise, that’s all. “

You will yourself to muster up a reassuring smile, though the subtle quivering at the ends of your lips didn’t exactly make it very convincing.

Despite noticing this, his lips pursed together in an emphasized tightness and he nods, continuing the process. But this time around he’s more gentle with his movements, soft and cautious, so as to make it as painless as possible. His brows furrowed together in deep concentration, one almost comparable to the kind which he lost himself so many times in, whilst analyzing videos of volleyball games with that unmatched meticulous which you had always admired so.

Oikawa Tooru had rarely ever been one to be gentle, tender. Yet alas here he was, being as gentle with you as was humanly possible for him. It was confusing and addicting all the same. And if you thought about it enough, one could probably say that it was nothing short of a miracle, that very miracle being the cheesy, yet insatiable concept of love.

Once he finally lifts the cotton from your face, he disposes of the remains, chucking them casually into a nearby dustbin as it teeters back and forth a little with the force. He then takes out a small bandage, unfolding it with care. The precision he had acquired through volleyball was blatantly evident as he carefully spreads the sticky fabric atop your wound, effectively patching it up. A cool, almost healing, feeling hits said wound, and you couldn’t quite tell if it was purely because of the bandaid, or if it was because of the hands which placed it. His hands. Swept up completely in the dazed state he had you in, you decided on the latter.

Those same hands, which were whirling through the dreaminess of your thoughts, then cupped your face, turning your gaze towards him. A comforting, rather than cauterizing, warmth floods to your cheeks, flushing them with a vivid rose as your heart flutters vigorously with the sparks of a forming hearth. His eyes, brown as chestnuts stored away in hollowed trees, bore deeply into yours, with a sentiment you had never known. Without another thought, his lips silently press against your forehead. The top of his head rests against yours, careful not to touch the wound, neither one willing to let go of this moment.

Admittedly, you hadn’t ever quite expected Oikawa to be someone capable of such sentiment, nor had you ever thought that he would be the type of person to give up his game, and especially not for you. Sure, you were close, best friends even. But you knew better than anyone just how much he put into volleyball. He loved that game more than anything and anyone. That included you. Or at least that was what you had thought before now. It was almost shameful for you, in a way. You had always attached such a perception onto him, and sometimes it even made you envy him and his love for the sport.

Sometimes...sometimes you wished he loved you even half as much as he did volleyball.

But now...you didn’t know what changed, if something even had. Either way, you were seeing this completely different side to him which you had never even thought existed until now—a caring, altruistic Oikawa. Not the “ great king “, nor Seijoh’s number one. Just Oikawa. And though he most definitely was both of those things, he was also, apparently, selfless. Or at least as selfless as Oikawa could get. You knew how much gravity his games hold to him, so the fact that he gave it all up today just to take care of you...it truly was a shock.

His skin against yours was a salve within itself, yet it was the intrinsic tenderness in which he held you that really struck you as odd. Well, not necessarily odd, per say, but rather, different. And not in a bad way either. The absolute and utter timidness of the very gesture held something so...intimate between the two of you. It fanned the embers awakening in your heart, urging the orange specks to roar with breath. You’d only ever seen his rough, callous-littered hands hit roughly against the volleyball. It was always hit, hit, hit. When you were just little kids in elementary, you vividly remember walking by his nearby house everyday as you came home from school, only to hear the thumping of volleyballs against a wall as he practiced tirelessly to fulfill the dreams which he yearned so longingly for. Sometimes it would even stretch out into the late hours of the night. It astonished you, how one could commit so fervently to a sport.

And now here those same hands were, encasing your face within the unanticipated serenity of their touch, holding you with a rare tenderness. Tears of relief, of hope and of some other strong unknown feeling, gloss thickly over your eyes. He moves his thumb to wipe them away.

You liked this Oikawa. Sure, you loved the Oikawa who played rough and strategized with his team in such a laudable manner, but you also liked this side to him. The new, gentle side. This was an Oikawa you had never met before, and yet you already felt yourself falling in love, never to return.

And why would you?

#oikawa x reader #haikyuu fluff #oikawa x you #oikawa fic #oikawa scenarios #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa hcs #oikawa oneshot #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic #oneshots #oikawa tooru #he’s so pretty

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bbugyu · 4 years

Text

finding something to do + kim mingyu

you had spent your better years bored with mingyu, and he thought holding your hand felt like holding his fleeting youth.

wc.4088 | almost smut, mostly fluff, friends to lovers/uni au, fem reader, that one trope where there is mutual pining but both of them think the other is gay, maybe like half an ounce of angst if you squint Really Hard, lots o swears

i usually make my fics hella neutral as far as gender and size and orientation goes but hahahaha this ones for the average sized bi girls! also just realized that i stopped using capitalization in my fics and yk what? im fine with it. this fic is based off of the song of the same name by hellogoodbye.

“stop honking, other people live here.”

mingyu grinned at you through the half-open passenger window, leaning over to pop open the door. the handle had never recovered from a giant cup of soda crashing into the side of his ride in the middle of a particularly rowdy summer shenanigan, the sticky substance soaking into the mechanics before he had gotten the chance to hose it down in a friend's driveway at 2am. now, you had to wait for him to open it from the inside on all future shenanigans, and you could only roll the window down half way, lest you have to laugh at mingyu aggressively pulling on the window between his palms as you pulled on the motorized switch to coerce it back into the closed position. you slid into the co-pilot seat and looked over to your best friend.

"if you answered your texts i wouldn't have to honk."

you rolled your eyes, tugging on the seatbelt. "go, gyu."

he laughed and shifted into drive, turning up his stereo as he pulled away from your apartment building, hand returning to the stick to shift up a gear. "thanks for coming."

"what else was i gonna do?" you slipped the slides off your socked feet and pulled your legs to sit cross-legged. "i finished rewatching avatar."

"study, maybe?"

you looked at him. he was right, finals were right around the corner, but you had an uncharacteristically light load this quarter (due to you not realizing you needed approval for one course before registration and it filling before you could sign up) and you weren't too worried about the three tests you would have to take in a couple weeks. "could say the same to you."

mingyu let out another laugh, suddenly singing along to the song as he ran a hand through his hair. you smiled at his profile, then pulled out your phone to update your instagram story. as you moved the camera over to mingyu from the streetlight-lit road ahead of you, he laughed midway through a lyric and practically yelled "mwoya" at you, gripping the wheel with both hands and jumping in his seat.

you laughed hysterically, frantically saving the video before pointing the screen at him. he turned down the music to watch it, eyes flickering between your phone and the road. he laughed at the way it cut off on both of you screaming. "what was that?"

you giggled, swiping through filters. "you being dumb."

"you love me."

"you're right."

mingyu smiled at that, adjusting the stereo volume again, bobbing his head to the rhythm as he drove to the one convenience store in your town that sold his favorite mint chocolate chip ice cream, a mission he had called upon you for at 11:30pm. when it switched over to a song you knew, mingyu noticed your subconscious humming to the tune and a few lyrics falling out of your lips, the wind from the open window whipping through your hair.

by the time you reached a small parking lot across town, you had yawned probably half a dozen times.

"tired?" mingyu pouted as he rolled up the windows and unbuckled his seatbelt. "sorry for dragging you out."

you shook your head, following suit and pulling yourself out of the car. "i slept too late, i think. i'll be fine."

you followed mingyu across the quiet street to the convenience store the two of you frequented perhaps too often, finding yourself there after late night study sessions or mid-barhop for ramen, snacks, and most importantly, the mint choco ice cream bar of mingyu's affections.

after perusing the options as if you hadn't been there earlier in the week, you picked out an ice cream bar as well as a couple bags of chips. you walked up behind mingyu at the register as he was pulling out his wallet.

"i'll pay if you come over and play smash," he said, nodding at your hands full of snacks.

you eyed him. "what's the catch?"

"you can't be mad when i play meta knight."

you groaned, but put your things on the counter for the cashier that was likely the same age as you both to scan. "fine. i'll still beat you."

mingyu grinned at you, and you snagged your ice cream bar off the counter as he paid, the other snacks getting put in a plastic bag. you grabbed the bag and held it open as mingyu retrieved his own ice cream, both of you peeling them open as you exited the convenience store.

"mm," you let out, mouth full of ice cream as you leaned against the metal bar meant to lock up bikes on the sidewalk. "it's nice out tonight."

mingyu agreed, biting into his treat. "it's refreshing but not too cold."

you nodded, watching cars pass on the street. "i can't believe it's almost summer already."

"me neither," he said, squatting in front of you as he ate. "we're gonna be seniors next year."

you groaned. "have you decided if you're doing summer quarter?"

he shook his head. "i decided against it. i only really have to take one extra course next year so it didn't feel worth it."

you nodded, looking down at him. he was looking to his left, absentmindedly watching someone walk their dog across the street.

after the ice cream was finished and you threw away your wrappers, mingyu cursed slightly at the fact that he still managed to get his finger sticky despite doing his best to avoid meltage. after he popped open your door, he dug in the glovebox for some wet naps, playfully knocking your knees aside as you tried to sit. you laughed, waiting for him to be done so you could put the bag of snacks on the floor in front of you.

when you met mingyu sophomore year, your hair was shorter and he was blonde. he had sat next to you in your shared ecology lab and promptly fell asleep before the class had even started, and you had to nudge him awake when the professor was handing out the syllabus.

"gah, fuck, i'm up," he waved a massive hand in your face, blinking away his sleep before focusing on you with furrowed brows. "you're not seokmin."

seokmin was his roommate, you learned, and also met a few weeks later when you went over to their dorm to work on assignments together. they've since upgraded to a compact but efficient three bedroom apartment and acquired another roommate. you stared out the window into the night sky as mingyu drove to said apartment, blinking heavily at the lure of a nap. you pulled your knees up to your chest and tried to listen to the song playing from the stereo.

only moments later, mingyu glanced over and noticed that your eyes had fluttered shut, your head lolling against the window. he wondered, staring at you in awe, how much longer he could pretend he wasn't in love with you.

when you and mingyu had first gotten to know each other, you admittedly had a bit of a crush on him, until you found out he had a boyfriend. even after they split almost four months later, and you had been there to bring him chicken and beer while he fumbled with the drawstrings of his sweatpants and rubbed his swollen eyes with the back of his hand, you decidedly resigned any feelings for him, knowing it was a lost cause for you to pine after a guy that didn't even like girls. hell, you barely even liked boys - you had gone on dates with six different girls, yet not a single guy since you came to university, and mingyu had sat on your bed while you tried to get ready, giving a concise "try again" when you showed him an oversized sweatshirt.

"why not this?" you asked, groaning.

"you have good proportions, bitch. show 'em off."

rolling your eyes, you rooted around in your closet for something less shapeless. your style had always skewed a little athletic, a little hip-hop. you bought mostly mens fit shirts, making the task slightly more difficult. you found a nice pair of high waisted jeans you hadn't worn in a while and paired it with a drop shoulder tee and a turtleneck, finally getting the approval of your best friend.

all of the facts laid in front of him led mingyu to believe you were completely and utterly gay, and even if you weren't, your taste in women suggested he was the exact opposite of your type. you liked petite girls. girls with long hair and that wore skirts and lots of rings. the kind of girls that you had to lean down to kiss.

so he continued to try out the pool of eligible bachelors in your area that were within a respectable age range. he had even tried to date some girls, but every time they tried to suggest the dates go further, he would think of the way his best friend's fingers had sent electricity through his entire body just by brushing an eyelash off his lip, or how you would trace the veins that ran through his wrist as you watched a movie together on your couch. the way your touch set his skin on fire. the way he wished he could just admit the way he felt about you.

he always smiled and said he'd call them sometime. he never did. it wasn't fair to them, but neither was him only ever asking them out because they reminded him of you somehow.

guys were easier, he thought. they didn't remind him of you.

mingyu was so caught up in the sight of you sleeping that he absolutely ran a red. he cursed under his breath when he realized the light he was passing under had been yellow for longer than he had thought, thinking how lucky he was that the cross street was empty. good thing he was almost home.

"hey, sleepyhead," he said when you stretched suddenly as he pulled into his parking spot. "do you wanna go home?"

you shook your head, yawning. "no, i need to eat chips."

he laughed and killed the engine. "you left a pair of house shorts here and you can borrow a shirt," he said, suggesting you crash in his bed when you got too tired for smash.

"what, you don't wanna carry me home?"

mingyu slammed the car door shut and shoved his hand in his pocket. "i'd rather not, no."

you stretched again, a hand reaching out to ruffle his dark hair as he tried to punch in the door code for you to enter his building. "mean."

he laughed at you again, leading you up the three flights of stairs to his apartment.

"hey, minghao," you said, waving at the shadowy figure that was seemingly melting into the couch, illuminated by the tv.

he raised a hand in acknowledgment, sitting with his neck at a 90 degree angle, a movie with subtitles on, and his phone face down on his chest. "yo."

"wanna play smash?" mingyu asked.

"no thanks."

mingyu dropped his keys on the kitchen counter. "we're playing smash."

"you're funny."

you laughed, and mingyu pouted. "please, myungho?"

minghao finally looked at his roommate. "i'm watching annihilation. the switch is handheld for a reason."

you watched mingyu roll his eyes with a smirk on your lips. he went over to the switch dock by the tv and grabbed the console, sticking his tongue out at hao. you giggled, following mingyu down the short hall to his room as minghao waved you both off.

"have i said that i like hao a lot?"

"yes," mingyu said. "like, every time you come over."

you smiled, throwing open his dresser and carding through the shirts that would surely be massive on you. "well i do."

the switch got tossed onto his bed and he sneaked around you to grab a pair of sweatpants from the drawer above the one you were looking in. he also pulled out the pair of shorts you had left, putting them on top of the dresser. "i'm getting naked now."

you shook your head lightly, knowing he was only changing his pants, but kept your back to him out of respect anyways. you picked up the shorts. "did you wash these?"

"yeah, i threw 'em in with my laundry last week."

you nodded, spotting the color you had been looking for. "aha!" you pulled on the ashy gray shirt, revealing one of your favorite things you had ever convinced mingyu to buy. an extremely soft, lightly distressed shirt with a tasteful rip along the neckline. "i'm getting naked now."

"clear," mingyu said, letting you know he wasn't looking as he flopped onto his bed, propping up the switch on his bedside table and setting up the controllers.

you pulled off your loose sweatshirt and swapped it for the borrowed shirt, then shoved the denim shorts down your legs, laughing lightly at how your sleep shorts completely disappeared under the shirt. you turned around, stretching out your arms to show how large the shirt was on you. "look."

mingyu rolled onto his back and propped himself on an elbow to look at you, giggling as you swam in his shirt. outwardly, he smiled, but internally, he thought this was simultaneously the worst and best idea he had ever had.

you looked absolutely stunning in his clothes, he thought, but only said that you were cute. he ignored the familiar feeling in his stomach and handed you a controller as you crawled onto his bed, settling on your stomach next to him.

he had to stop putting himself in this position. you were far too pretty for him to forget his feelings towards you.

but maybe that's what he wanted. maybe he didn't want to forget his feelings. maybe the few times you had told him his dates were attractive weren't just objective reassurances. maybe he held onto the sliver of hope that you could possibly be attracted to him, too.

you slammed your face into the bed as the game loaded. "why are all switch load times utter ass?"

mingyu adjusted so that he was laying on his side with an arm propping him up and flicked the back of your head. "because the console can fit in my palm."

your hand went up to swat at the culprit of the flick, and you pouted as you lifted your head to look at him. "that's not fair, your hands are huge." you wiggled onto your elbows to grab his wrist, pressing your palms together. "see?"

mingyu laughed, feeling his cheeks heat up. "well, you have baby hands, so." he punctuated his point by curling his finger over yours. you pouted again, then slipped your fingers between his, thinking about how nice his warm hand felt over yours.

you blinked, then pulled your hand away and grabbed the joycon as the game finally loaded the skippable intro, hoping you weren't blushing too much as you cleared your throat. mingyu stared at your pink cheeks for a moment, his mind reeling. was he seeing something that wasn't there? or was his hope in you validated?

you were clicking through the menu and felt his eyes on you, and all you wanted to do was hide behind your hair and avoid eye contact. you nearly jumped when mingyu cleared his throat.

"hey, i have something i've been meaning to ask you."

your eyes met his briefly. "shoot."

"do you…" mingyu paused, trying to think of the right way to phrase his question. "i know you have exes that are guys, but is that something you're, like… still into?"

your ears burned and you wiggled until you could sit back on your own legs, fiddling with the hem of the shirt you stole and hesitating to make eye contact. "you mean, being with guys?"

"yeah," he said, watching you intently with his brows furrowed.

"yeah, i mean, i guess?" you shrugged. "i like both."

mingyu nodded slowly, watching your eyes as they stared at the wall across his small room. your cheeks were a rosy pink, and you were chewing on your lip. "me too."

you looked at him finally, your eyes wide. "what?"

he gave you a crooked smile. "i like guys and girls, too."

if you were blushing before, now you were blazing. "oh, my god, i'm an idiot."

he laughed. "what, did you think i was, like, totally gay?"

"shut up," you threw yourself down onto his bed, hiding your face in the blanket. in your defense, he had definitely called himself gay before, but you definitely called yourself gay constantly, so maybe you shouldn't put so much weight in those words. "shut up, i'm embarrassed. i don't want to talk about it."

hearing mingyu laugh next to you made you feel like you were on fire, then you felt the ghosting of fingers on your arm. you froze. mingyu's voice was soft when he spoke again. "do you wanna talk about how i have a massive crush on you?"

you slowly raised your head to look at him, cheeks burning red. he gave you a small smile before you choked out a "huh?"

"i ran a red earlier," he said suddenly, his fingers moving from your arm to absentmindedly brush your hair out of your face, then to your shoulder, then back. it was a reassuring touch, one you had felt from him before, but you still were caught off guard by his sudden succession of confessions. "you were sleeping and i couldn't stop looking at you. i totally could have crashed the car."

"dude, what the fuck." you stared at him, then lowered your voice to imitate him. "'hey i have a crush on you and i almost killed us both because of it.' that's you, that's what you sound like right now."

mingyu laughed in your face and you couldn't help the chuckle that fell out of your mouth. "sorry i almost killed us."

"i guess i can forgive you," you said, picking at your nails suddenly despite them being clean. "especially because i might have a crush on you, too."

mingyu kept staring at you with a fond smile, and you wondered if he could also hear how hard your heart was beating. "can i kiss you?"

you looked at him, trying not to stare at his lips. you nodded, almost hurriedly. his hand pulled against your back as you rolled your body to face him, and your hand reached out for his jaw as he pulled you into him. and when his lips crashed into yours, you yelped slightly, melting into him almost immediately. they were plush against yours, and he was gentle as he pushed your back onto the mattress, adjusting to hover over you slightly. when you let your head fall back onto the bed, he grinned at your blown out pupils and swollen lips, buzzing at the way your hands curled around around his neck, fingers digging into the hair at his nape. he adjusted again, a hand finding your waist as he pulled back to let you swing your leg across his lap. you pulled him back over you, enjoying the way his hips hit the back of your thighs as he caged you in with an elbow by your shoulder. you stared up at him, heart racing, eyes flicking down to his lips too many times for him to not take the hint.

mingyu had always enjoyed pleasing you. this definitely felt like the next natural progression.

he dove into you, and your arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders. mingyu was a hugger, and he also liked wearing very little clothing when he worked out, so you knew what he looked like under the plain white tee. knew what he felt like. but suddenly - with his hands slipping under what was technically his shirt to properly feel your waist, with how his tongue fought with yours - you really felt him for the first time. the way his shoulder muscles rippled just beneath the skin as he adjusted, clearly trying to not make his growing bulge so obvious. you considered the fact that you might get to see how much leg day really benefited, considering how much he posted about it with sweaty post-workout pictures on his story.

mingyu felt your thighs squeeze around his hips, pulling back slightly. "is this okay?"

"is it?" you responded, a hand pulling back to fall on his jaw. "i've wanted you for ages."

he laughed lightly. "god, we're idiots."

you had no time to respond before he was kissing you again, his hips rolling into yours, pulling a surprised moan from you. he ate it up, his fingers gripping your waist tighter at the sound. you felt his girth as it pressed against you, and you gasped. when was the last time you had been with a guy? high school?

when mingyu's teeth bit down on your lip, you were really glad he was the guy you were unconsciously waiting for.

he tugged on your hips as he rolled onto his back, pulling you to straddle his lap. you giggled slightly, settling back into the open mouthed kisses as he ran his hands from your ass up your back, slipping under the sports bra you were wearing.

then there was a knock. you yelped, burying your face in his shoulder as you heard the door swing open. "make room for king k r- oh shit!"

you laughed into mingyu's neck as he yelled for seokmin to get the hell out, his hands tugging the hem of the stolen shirt over your butt in an attempt to shield it from view. you heard him squeak out an "i'm sorry!" as the door shut again.

"i'll kill him."

you exhaled, the laughter still on your lips as you looked at his profile from where your cheek pressed against his shoulder. "bet he thinks we're secretly dating."

mingyu laughed, scratching an eyebrow before returning his palm to your ass. "not a secret now."

"oh, so we're dating now?"

mingyu craned his neck to look at you. "is that not what was going to happen?"

you giggled, sitting up and putting your hands on his chest. you adjusted your knees, fully aware of how the movement would rub you against his still hard bulge. "we have both fucked people without dating them afterwards, kim mingyu."

"ah," he said, digging his fingers into your soft ass and rutting into you gently, making you gasp. "we're gonna fuck? i thought we were just joking."

you slapped his chest, giggling still as you rolled your hips. "if you don't wanna, i could ask hao-"

"oh, shut up," he said, pulling you down to kiss him. "if you liked myungho like that you would have tried it ages ago."

you smiled, your thumb running over his adams apple as you placed gentle kisses on his jaw. "sweetie, are we jealous?"

"i don't deserve this, you know?" mingyu pulled your hips against him again, a low grunt tumbling from his beautiful mouth. "i haven't put my dick in a girl since i met you and now i'm with you and you're talking about my roommate? this seems extremely mean."

you giggled again, then placed your lips on his again. he instantly kissed you back, one hand leaving your ass to go to the back of your neck. "you're the only guy i ever think about," you whispered, getting repeatedly interrupted by mingyu's needy lips on yours.

the wolf-like grin that broke onto his face sent chills down your spine. "let's keep it that way."

seokmin's hand was still on the doorknob, his wide eyes blinking, when minghao paused his movie and sat up to poke his head out and look down the hall. "the hell was that?"

he puffed out his cheeks as he walked back into the living room, his palms clapping gently. "i thought you said y/n came over to play smash?"

minghao's eyebrow quirked up. "she did."

the eldest sat on the couch. "i thought mingyu was gay?"

"what?" minghao looked down the hall again. "wait, what? were they-" he stopped when he heard a muffled groan that was far too familiar.

seokmin grabbed the remote and pressed play, scratching his cheek as he turned up the volume. "what are we watching? catch me up."

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lovehugsandcandy · 3 years

Text

(when you never) see the light (n*fw, Colt x MC, RoD)

A/N: So @shondideaira-blog comes up with AMAZING ideas and requested a rewrite of RoD Chapter 16 but with MC getting shot (apologies for the delay and if this isn’t what you were looking for). Title from Rihanna’s ‘Stay’

Length: ~5,900 words

Rating/Warnings: N*FW (warnings out the wazoo- cops, gun shots, injury, blood, hospital, swearing, sex)

Summary: “... she thinks of nightmares that slide into daylight and then almost the opposite, times like now when the morning sunlight is gauzy and warm and the fears from the dark of night (gunfire and explosions and a scream caught in a throat that won’t open and being left behind by those you love) seem so distant that she knows she can’t return. ‘Colt, come with me.’ He still doesn’t answer, and it’s embarrassing how her voice cracks. ‘Please.’”

Her heart beats 63 times per minute.

It’s an average, of course; she’s studied the display, the colored lights flashing each number, vital signs and jagged lines dipping and rising with her movement, her stress level, the all-encompassing terror snaking cold through her bloodstream. By now, she can predict the digits shown stark on the machinery: rolling to her side increases it by a single beat, focusing on every breath decreases it by three, and thinking about that night and the fear in his eyes and the warmth pooling from between her fingers, well, that sends the numbers skyrocketing and the nurses running.

The shrill tone emitting from the machine echoes the hammering in her chest, a constant noise even in the awkward silence stretching into the corners of the hospital room.

“Are you sure you’ll be ok if I…” Her dad pauses and his eyes bore into the side of her head. It’s a conscious effort not to turn her leaden gaze from the tv. “... If I go to work for a bit?”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Her heart rate holds steady, steel will and mental effort holding her annoyance at bay.

Of course he can leave.

He had been there constantly, was at her side when she awoke from surgery, when her vision warped so blurry she had almost mistaken him for another, dark hair floating in and out of her field of vision, a mirage of her deepest desires fading to bitter reality when she realized who was by her side. And then her father had refused to leave her side, sitting in for every visit from the doctor, scrutinizing every movement as they tended wounds and replaced IVs, taking calls stationed outside the door to her room as she watched his shadow pace through the frosted glass. He vacillated between anger expanding coldly through the sterile walls of the hospital room and relief that she was alive seeping into his smile.

“I just want… I want you to be ok.” He pauses and this time, she turns her head, taking in his knuckles paling against the door frame, the lines of his face wrinkled and sallow in the blazing hallway lights. It’s unsaid: he wants things to go back to the way they were.

But they can’t. They never will. There’s no looking back, ever; the world has changed too much for that, and the only path is forward.

Her side still hurts, tiny white pills not enough to knock her out but enough to turn the stabbing pain in her abdomen into a dull ache, and she is tired, eyelids heavy from three nights in an unfamiliar bed; the physical pain pales compared to her sadness, bone-deep and weary. He wasn’t asking about that hurt. “I’ll be fine, dad.”

She almost wasn’t fine.

The barrel of the gun was dark, looming large before her, a sinister circle ready to engulf everything in its path the longer she stared. It was mere seconds, but it felt like hours as she stood, frozen. She couldn’t pull her eyes from the metal; she knew Jason was holding the gun, her high school looming somewhere behind him, her car in shatters behind her, and her friends in the periphery in various states of horror, but the gun consumed her entire field of view.

Would she ever step foot inside this very school again?

There was movement, somewhere behind Jason, Mona, god, Mona was trying to interrupt.

Would she even graduate?

And Colt’s voice echoing to her right, a yell, too far away to help, but close enough to hurt.

God, would she ever see Colt again?

The light was first, a flash, a bright flicker in the inky black night, dancing hauntingly by Jason’s thumb.

Then sound, the crack echoing in the parking lot, bouncing about until she was disoriented, not knowing where one rapport ended and the next began.

And then the pain.

“Ellie!”

More noise. A scream. Was it her?

A fight.

It couldn’t be her; she was looking at the sky, the endless night above, even the streetlights growing darker with every blink of her eyes.

“Ellie!”

The parking lot was cold beneath her. She couldn’t feel it through her leather jacket (red, red, everything was red) but her bare hands traced the pebbles below, uneven and jagged.

Everything hurt.

“Ellie!”

Another scream, the squeal of tires. Someone was pulling out (was she at the sideshow?), rubber burning, caustic and sour as it reached her nose. The engine roar faded, softer in the distance (was she racing?), replaced by movement around her (if she was racing, she was losing-the world was spinning, but she was immobile).

No. Her side… something burned, flaming hot, pain radiating up her side with every choking inhale.

She grimaced and lifted her hand, pressing it to her side, wince deepening. Her side hurt, sharply, as her fingers prodded a gash. It was hot, whatever it was (not skin, not anymore), and there was something liquid on her fingers, tacky, warm.

A cold sweat covered her body; she could feel its path tracing her hairline where the salt burned glass-torn wounds. She wanted to wipe it off, dig out some shards digging into her skin, but every move was draining, labored.

She bit her lip.

“Fuck, Ellie!’

Iron flooded onto her tongue, metallic, sharp. A few stars fought their way through the smog and the thin cloud layer overhead; streetlights shone in the parking lot.

Everything else was darkness.

Except for the red smears on her fingertips.

“Ellie!” Colt entered her field of view, suddenly, eyes wide and panicked. “Are you--- fuck?”

“I…” Everything hurt, God, her stomach felt like… like she had been shot. “Colt? What- what happened?”

“You…” His fingers trembled as they trace her face. “Ellie, you’re gonna be ok. We just gotta…” He looked down at her stomach and his hands pressed into her side, warm and far more comforting than the tears welling in his eyes. “We just gotta…”

Logan dropped to his knees at her other side. “Troublemaker… God…” Mona appeared behind him and even her eyes were wide, face pale.

A siren pierced the night.

She reached up; her fingers shook, and she was tired, oh so tired, but she forced her hand to rise until she cupped Colt’s cheek, thumbing at the moisture trickling over his skin.

He choked out her name, and she dropped her hand. A path of blood, a dark and foul smear over sharpened cheekbone, remained.

“We need… we need to get you out of here.” His voice shook.

She nodded, pushing herself up to her elbows, wincing when even the simple motion hurt.

“C’mon, Troublemaker.” Logan slid an arm around her waist, nudging his shoulder under her arm. “Can you get up?”

She nodded, wrapping her other arm around Colt’s shoulders. He was trembling slightly, lips in a tight white line, but he folded in next to her, taking her weight as her feet found the pavement. Her knees buckled, but the boys held firm and, though she swayed, she stood, hunched and weak. “I’m ok.” In the distance, the siren screamed louder, closer.

“You’re not,” Mona said, eyes assessing her wound. “You need to go to the hospital.”

She nodded; she obviously did. The pavement was tilting under her feet, and she had to focus to take in the parking lot. “Where’s Shaw?”

“Took off like a pussy.” Mona crossed her arms over her chest. Ellie let out a smile; at least the plan was working.

Colt curled his fingers over her hipbone. “Come on.”

“No.” Ellie shook her head, and the pavement swam in time with her movements. “The cars.”

“What? Ellie… we gotta… who cares? You…” She could sense it, the moment he looked down to see the blood spreading over her shirt. “Ellie…” Colt reached out, fingers visibly shaking now, to gently touch her side. Even through the fabric, they came away wet and glossy red. “Ellie, we gotta…” He stared at his hand, at the fingertips damp with her blood. “We gotta…” The siren was speeding on the highway now; they were running out of time.

“Colt.” She touched his cheek, smearing the blood even more. “We need a plan. We gotta get the cars out of here, your bike. We need to move.” He blinked at her and she tipped forward, to where he opened his arms at the last possible second, landing against his chest. They were both covered in blood now but it didn’t even matter, nothing mattered but finishing this last ride. His arms wrapped around her waist and she couldn’t even pretend anymore, just let him hold her up, fully, legs weak and unresponsive. His arms still shook. She tilted her head up, right against his ear, and whispered, “Colt, we need a plan. And I can’t… we need a plan.”

Because that was the meaning of partnership, of trust and support and love. When one person fell, the other was there to catch them. And while it was Colt physically holding her up, she was there to make sure he didn’t collapse either.

When he blinked again, his eyes opened clear. “Logan, get in your car and get out of here.” He balanced her against his own body to fish keys from his pocket, tossing them over to her without pulling his eyes from Ellie’s. “Mona. Take my bike. I’ll contact you later with where to stash it.”

Ellie smiled, head lolling against his chest. She could rest now that someone else was in charge.

“Open your eyes.” His voice was harsh but, when she opened them, she could only read concern in his wide gaze. “Stay awake. We gotta go. Walk.”

And, one foot in front of the other, she did.

~~~~~

Despite her dad’s concern, she’s fine.

After the surgery and the stitches and the unrealized fear that she might lose part of her liver, she had been fine. She had watched tv, avoided conversation with her dad, and reached for the comforting bottle whenever her side ached.

The meds, chatter of the pills ricocheting in her palm, helped ease her physical pain.

If only all pains were as easy to soothe.

She has just reached for the cannister when the door creaks open; she rolls her eyes, again. It had barely been 10 minutes. “Dad, I’m-” The word dies in her mouth as she turns to the door “-fine.”

“You sure? ‘Cuz I’m offended. I think you definitely need your vision checked.”

“Colt…” It’s not even speech; she breathes the word out in an exhale that makes her ribs twinge. “How did you get in?” The sheets shift underneath her as she struggles to sit, letting out a small groan as her side throbs before she’s finally up, watching him edge closer, hands in his pockets and dark circles haunting his eyes.

“What do you mean?” he scoffs. “You think I can’t get access to a fucking hospital room?”

“My dad- he’s been here the whole time, he just left.”

“I know.”

She shakes her head. “What happened? I don’t really…”

“You got shot. Remember that?”

“Oh my God, yes, I remember that.” He’s close enough to touch now, out of place next to the IV machines and constant beeping, leather and smirk tangible and real amidst the white-walled sterility; she pulls him closer, finger tucked into the cuff of his jacket. “What about everyone else? Logan? Mona? X and Toby? Is everyone ok?”

Colt shrugs, easing down next to her to perch on the hospital bed. “They’re fine. Logan’s on his way to Detroit. Mona’s halfway across the country. And X and Toby both went to Oakland.”

“My dad told me Jason got arrested.”

“He did. Your plan worked.” The smile stays small, but Ellie can see the pride and relief shine through. “Not an eye for an eye, but…”

She threads her fingers through his, her thumb tracing calming circles even though he also carries pain impossible to soothe. “It’s good enough. You need to live, Colt. Not be haunted by what’s behind you.”

“I can’t dream, El?”

“You have better dreams than vengeance.” In the hospital room lighting, his every feature is stark, cheekbones sharp over the hollow sloping to his jaw. He looks proud and pensive and defeated, all at once; though her side twinges when she leans over, it’s secondary to the ache in her heart. “Colt?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to go home.”

He surveys the tube still running into her arm, the pills at her bedside. “You sure that’s such a good idea?”

“Yeah. I can’t stay here anymore.”

“I don’t think they are ready to discharge you. You kinda look like you got shot recently.”

“I’ll go AMA, I don’t care?” She pressed the call button.

“You’ll go what?”

“Against Medical Advice. They can’t trap me here.” She jabs it again, frantically; a plan is forming. Finally, the fear and boredom and monotony of the hospital are being replaced, and she’s floating on something that feels implausibly like hope. “Meet me out front.”

He studies her, for so long she wonders if her demand is too presumptuous, and then he breaks out into a grin. “You’re sexy when you’re bossy.”

“Even in a hospital gown?”

His fingers trace the tie at her neck. “Especially then.”

“Really.”

“Easy access.” His eyes gleam, fluorescent shine of the hospital room reflected in beautiful black, and she’s sure his excitement is mirrored on her own face.

“Oh, my God. Just meet me downstairs, you’re my getaway driver.”

He stands, mattress creaking underneath her, and rocks back on his heels. “You sure about this?”

“I have never been more sure about anything.”

When she emerges into the brilliant LA sunshine, he’s leaning against a dark sedan, sunglasses on and every inch the cocky mastermind she remembers. She falls into his arms, replacing antiseptic and sterility with every inhale of motor oil and aftershave.

“No motorcycle?”

“Are you already forgetting you were shot?”

As if she could ever. “I want to go home,” she murmurs into his tee.

“Whatever you want.” He opens the door, eyes hidden by shades, but his shoulders tense. “We can drop you there.”

“No.” Her hand on his forearm stops him and he turns, eyebrow raised. “I want to go home with you.”

His lips against hers are hard, demanding, hand twitching toward her hip but then settling against her jaw, cupping her close as she nestles closer, relieved sigh as she feels her muscles relax for the first time in days.

As they accelerate away, she’s glued to his side, nestled in leather, and the sunlight blinding outside the windshield adds to the warming calm in the backseat.

~~~~~

She couldn’t tell if it’s pitch black outside… or if it’s the back of her eyelids.

“Ellie, eyes open. Now.” Oh. She opened her eyes, dome light illuminating the car interior where Colt was reaching over to buckle her seat belt, nudging the strap away from her side. “You gotta stay awake.”

“Yeah.” She nodded but her eyelids were so heavy, falling closed even when she struggled them awake, and he kissed her, hard, desperate. She kissed back, lips weak but sure, revived in the dead of night.

He slammed the door, sprinting around the car to leap into the driver’s seat, throwing the car in drive and shutting his own door simultaneously. The sirens were blaring now, she could see the blue and red flashing through the night, reflecting off the sterile concrete of the school, and Colt gunned it through the parking lot, the world flying by as he maneuvered onto the street and into the night.

“You’re gonna be ok, you hear me?”

She hummed, watching him change gears. When he drove to her driver’s test, she remembered how confidently he drove, experienced hands easy around the wheel, but now those same hands were moving fast, almost frantic as the speedometer flew higher.

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?” Her eyelids were so heavy.

“Tell me about Langston.”

“What?” Her head rested against the leather as she squinted at him. “Why do you… What?”

“I want to keep you awake and it’s all I got right now,” he responded, chuckling darkly.

“I… Langston.” In truth, she had barely thought about Langston in weeks. “It’s the best college out east. And I was lucky to get in. I always wanted to go there and now…”

“Now what?”

“Am I even gonna go?”

“You’re gonna go.” His hand gripped her knee. “You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna go...“ He moved his hand to downshift as they maneuvered through traffic, but it landed on her leg immediately after, strong and sure. “You’re gonna do great.”

“No. No, you don’t understand.” She sighed. “I don’t know if I… I’m not ready for this to end.”

“For what to end?”

She felt the moisture spilling from her eyes, streaking down her cheeks. Of course she was going to Langston, it was all she wanted, and yet. “I don’t want to leave you.”

He had nothing to say to that, no smart reply; he only squeezed her knee and headlights flashed by, interrupting the night sky that encroached into her darkening vision.

“I just… I don’t want to go back to how I was before.”

“You won’t.”

“Are you just saying that because I now have a hole in my stomach?”

“Christ, El… Gonna be a hell of a scar.”

The tires squealed as he pulled a left, sign declaring the Emergency Department brilliantly red above them. “Gonna be a hell of a story.” She shifted uncomfortably as they pulled to a stop; she could see a smattering of doctors and police officers inside the glass doors when she peeked over.

“Our story’s not over yet, El.” Her tears are pouring out now, stream turned to a river, and they slipped through his fingers as he cupped her face in his hands. “It’s not.” His voice was harsh, sure, and it made the tears even worse.

“I have to go.”

He unbuckled his seat belt. “Yeah, let’s go.”

“No.”

“What do you-”

“See those cops?” He glanced behind her, still cradling her cheeks, and his gaze darkened. “This is something I need to do on my own, Colt.”

“Ellie.”

“I can’t have you get arrested, I-I can’t.”

His lips turn down, his own eyes welling, glistening in the red glow. She pushed forward, as much as she could through the pain, because she might die from her wound but she couldn’t live without threading her fingers through his hair, kissing him with every ounce of trust and surety and love she had been gifted in return.

And then she steps out of the car alone.

She doesn’t look back. She can’t. Even the tiniest glance behind her would make her disappear, Euridyce vanishing in the dawn; a mere turn of her head would force her to stay, compel her to fall into his arms and flee into the night, and her blood would spill rivers onto Mona’s leather interior.

By the time a nurse rushed over, she was bawling, sobs pouring from her mouth, blood ground into the lines of her palms and the tears painting watery pink paths down her forearms.

She shook her head when they asked how badly it hurt.

She couldn’t feel a thing.

~~~~~

The nightmare shocks her awake.

It’s her first night of freedom and it’s quiet, still, the light of the moon replacing the flash of gunfire behind her eyelids, soft exhales beside her replacing the exhaust of a Santagata speeding away.

She can still see her father’s face, stern and disappointed and angry, so angry, when she struggles to sit up, wincing at the flash of pain radiating up her side.

“Mh? Wass… El?” Colt turns under the sheet, hand grasping at nothing until his fingers find her arm, wrapping around her fragile wrist.

“I’m ok…” His skin is warm where hers is corpse-cold, and she’s obviously not convincing enough because he sits up, the line of heat at her spine not enough to quell her shaking muscles. “Really, I’m ok.”

“You need more of those meds?” he slurs, still half-asleep, and she grins despite herself. He’s been surprisingly great, having her holed up in his temporary apartment, dispensing her painkillers upon request, grabbing the ice cream she wants from the 24-hour store down the block.

Maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised.

For all the gruff exterior and snarky bite, he had seen her potential, respected her abilities, challenged her and fought for her and, now, speaks low into her shoulder blade in the pitch-black room, LA haze blocking out the glow of the moon. She can’t see inches in front of her face, can only sense where he is by the crinkle of sheets, the warmth of his skin at her back.

“I’m fine. I… it’s fine.”

He shifts, arm threading around to trace under her shirt, between her breasts, so he can cup her shoulder. “What happened?” She can feel the warmth seeping through her chest; it makes it easier for her to inhale through the terror caught in her throat.

“I…” He waits, shifting so his nose nudges into the curve of her shoulder. “I just saw… I just saw the gun. The flash, when pulled the trigger and I… all I could hear is the crack of the gunshot and I-”

He maneuvers her so she can see his face, barely, white of his eyes framing the darkest of eyes, a flash of white teeth when he mutters her name. “Ellie…”

“And the surgery and days in the hospital room and I didn’t know if I was going to see you again and I…”

His thumb is gentle on her cheekbone, wiping away tears she didn’t even realize were coming. He’s still warm, hand on her face and other palm solid on her back, and she breathes out slowly, heart rate returning to her typical range. “I still dream about my old man.”

“Oh, Colt.”

“I still dream about the bridge, the explosion, and then...” The whites of his eyes flash as he turns his head, sharply. “You. You bleeding out in the parking lot, bleeding through my fingers, and I couldn’t...”

Her fingers find his and squeeze. “What helps?”

“...don’t know yet.”

Her hand on his cheek turns his face back to hers and she has no words, no magic solution, no idea how to overcome the trauma and pain of their shared past. All she can do is bring her lips to his.

Maybe the memories will always be with them, written in scars like the puckering skin on her abdomen, but maybe they can forget, together, to make it through the night.

He responds eagerly, hands cupping her face, trailing down her neck. His thumb traces down her spine and it’s singularly all she can focus on; every nerve ending in her body is so sharply attuned to the callus at the joint sliding inch by inch down her skin that she can feel nothing else, not the sheet pooling around her waist or the contact of her legs against the mattress or the itch and tug of the scab pulling at her skin. It’s so soft, so gentle, and his name falls from her lips, all needy whine and desperate plea, and the flush that covers her skin is sudden, fire hot, spreading down to her toes in a blaze of combustion and if he doesn’t touch her, more, somewhere else, anywhere else, God please, she’s going to explode as a quivering mess in this bed.

He’s gentle, easing her closer to kiss a scorching line down her spine, following the path of his fingers with the fire of his lips. They drag achingly down the sensitive skin of her thinner forearm, up her inner thigh, and it’s somehow more intimate than anything they’ve ever done. She’s already tense, toes curling as his hands make their way under her underwear, and her fingers anchor into his hair as his teeth trace up her thigh.

He avoids her side, where the stitches curl dark into her skin, instead teasing his tongue through her folds, his fingers over her clit; when her vision turns white (not the cold light of gunfire but the warm glow of pleasure and connection and love and lust and freedom), she forgets about her injury, forgets about the hospital, forgets about everything except the strands of hair sliding through her hands and the boy taking care of her in every way that matters.

Sated, she reaches for him as he collapses beside her, straightening her pajamas and tucking a wisp of hair from her face. She’s suddenly exhausted, muscles weak and shaky, but she curves her hand into his t-shirt. The sheets muffle her voice; she wouldn’t be surprised if drool pools underneath her chin, but she’s too tired to care. “Don’t look back.”

“What.”

“Don’t look back.”

“What are you talking-”

“There’s nothing behind us.” If she was going to leave that life behind, she was going to take part of it with her. “Come with me.”

“What? Ellie?”

“Please.”

She doesn’t hear his response; behind her eyes, there’s only darkness (no gunfire flash, no rhythmic beeps). It’s quiet and still and warm, and she sleeps without dreaming.

~~~~~

She could get used to this.

While Colt had taken a few hushed phone calls in the hallway, he was a constant every other second, just in reach, as if his mere presence were enough to protect her from murderous cops and an untimely demise.

A few days into her convalescence, she awakens from a nap, degree by warming degree, curled into his side. Her sleeping schedule has been erratic ever since her frantic discharge escape, and it’s now twilight, golden sunbeams sinking into the horizon behind the highway. Colt is sprawled next to her, playing a game on his phone; she’s curled into his side, eyes blinking open against soft cotton grey, and he drops a kiss on her forehead when she stirs.

“How are you going to sleep tonight?” he asks, smirking through every word and dropping his cell onto the bed. “It’s almost 8. You’ve slept all day.”

“Dunno. Count sheep?” she murmurs against his chest. “Count stars?”

“No stars in LA.”

She mumbles some reply, unintelligible and low. While she was regaining some of her strength, it was a slow improvement; she still generally felt weak and worn. She would have no trouble sleeping.

“Count headlights,” he continues and she tilts her head to watch the white lights fly over the road, glittering diamonds slicing through the horizon.

“Is that what you do?”

He shrugs. “It’s all there is to see.” His fingers thread through her hair, avoiding her forehead where cuts from barreling over the overpass still sit open and obvious along her hairline, but gently tracing down to her back, hands gentler than they have any right to be, belonging to a wanted criminal on the lam from the LAPD. It’s rhythmic and calming, and she wants nothing more than to stay in this bed forever.

“There’s headlights in New York.” She holds her breath. She hadn’t asked again since the nightmare, too terrified of the reply to broach the topic.

“Lots of them.”

She hazards a glance up; to her surprise, he is staring right at her, eyes soft, cautious. He swallows, Adam’s apple tightly bobbing, and nibbles his bottom lip. “Colt, please.”

He glances away, out the window; he doesn’t answer, doesn’t promise anything, and she tightens the arm draped over his chest. The headlights still glow, bright white cutting through the city landscape, and she watches them as the twilight slides into darkness.

~~~~~

Even though she gets stronger, she still makes him help her, pouting through simple challenges like carrying grocery bags or reaching high shelves. He grumbles through it, but she can’t hide her smirk when he obliges regardless.

(Tougher challenges, like holding her after nightmares that leave her quaking, those are done without complaint and the gratitude gets stuck in her throat, lodged against where her heart races at triple the normal tempo.)

When she feels up to it, he needs no persuading to help her shower. He’s surprisingly gentle with her hair, fingers massaging shampoo against her scalp as she mewls piteously, and lathers her body in careful strokes that build heat in her core. His fingers slow as he nears her side, bypassing the bruise beginning to green and the scab that’s beginning to crust about the stitches. His hands avoid the wound noticeably.

“Do you not like blood or something?”

He quirks an eyebrow, droplets raining from his hair. “I’m fine with it. I got shot too, remember?” Her eyes drop to his shoulder. Yes, she remembers and, even if she managed to forget that horrific night, his own scar would remind her, dark mark noticeable against the curve of muscle. “Not as bad as you.”

“Yeah… it’s just… you just seem wigged out at the sight of blood…”

He looks behind her, straight at the shower wall, but she has the sense that he doesn’t see a single white tile square. She sees images in her own mind, flashes of her blood on his fingertips in a shadowy parking lot, his father’s blood a morbid trail across the garage. “I don’t like seeing the blood of people I care about.”

Well, she doesn’t have an answer to that. She can only reach up, wet hair sliding through her fingers, to pull him down, closer, until they’re sharing the same breath and his lips consume hers with practiced ease. He backs her against the wall, so gentle, as if she were spun glass, fingers tender about her waist even though his lips capture hers insistently.

They kiss with abandon, making out until the steady stream of water cools, turning tepid, and then cold, and then he interlaces their fingers together to pull her out of the shower. By the time they get out of the bathroom, they made a weak attempt at towel drying, but her back is still wet as he lays her down against the sheets.

But the sensation of water cooling is quickly replaced by others.

And the only flashes of light are stars behind her eyes.

And the only sound is his muttered curse, harsh fingertips digging deep into the muscles of her ass.

And when she trails fingertips over his cheekbone, only sweat remains.

~~~~~

He makes her breakfast, too.

It’s only a few days before she’s scheduled to head east, and it looms large on her mind. She requests pomegranate seeds and yogurt, granola and a drizzle of honey, something fancy and annoying just to see him fluster.

“Seriously?”

“Please, Colt?” She bats her eyelashes, burrowed under blankets, and he huffs, throwing on a shirt before trudging to the store.

She giggles when he cuts into the fruit; it’s going to stain the cheap formica counter, but he apparently doesn’t care, hacking into the pomegranate skin with a paring knife and cursing under his breath.

“This is such a pain in the ass.”

“Remember when you said I could have anything I wanted.”

He raises an eyebrow. “We were in bed, sweetheart. I wasn’t asking for a meal plan.”

“Well…” She gingerly steps against the counter and stands on her tiptoes, testing her side. When there’s no pain, she hops up to sit next to the bowl with only a slight grimace. “This is what I wanted. I wanted you to make me breakfast.” Triumphant, she pops a seed into her mouth.

His gaze drops to the fruit in front of him as he shakes his head ruefully. She watches the sculpted biceps move as he separates the seeds from the pale flesh, dropping them into her yogurt. There are easier ways to cut the fruit, taught by her mother over quiet breakfasts even more precious in retrospect, but watching him bite his lip in concentration, she keeps the information to herself.

She’s so focused on the tip of his tongue between his lips and the bicep shifting under his tee that it takes a moment to realize that he stands frozen beside her. “Colt?” His gaze is fixed on his hand, and she leans close to look over. Eyes haunted, he’s staring at a pomegranate seed, smashed against his finger; it takes her a moment but, at this angle, it looks like blood, a red smear staining his thumb, an eerie jarring flashback to blood on his hands.

She doesn’t even think, only reaches over to drag her teeth across the fleshy pad of finger, sucking the sweet juice onto her tongue. When his gaze flits to hers, heat rises in her cheeks.

“What?” He doesn’t respond, and she thinks of nightmares that slide into daylight and then almost the opposite, times like now when the morning sunlight is gauzy and warm and the fears from the dark of night (gunfire and explosions and a scream caught in a throat that won’t open and being left behind by those you love) seem so distant that she knows she can’t return. “Colt, come with me.” He still doesn’t answer, and it’s embarrassing how her voice cracks. “Please.”

“Ellie…”

“You don’t need to stay here. There’s nothing good here for us.”

“I’m not running. I’m not gonna run from anything.”

“What if you ran towards something instead?”

“Like what?” There’s a pomegranate juice smear bright against his cheekbone, a reminder of her hands on him, a mark that won’t scar but is permanent, regardless.

“...A new future.”

~~~~~

Breakfast with her dad is as awkward and stilted as she feared.

He makes the Ellie Special, and she crams forkfuls of waffles in her mouth as they try and fail to find any safe topic of conversation, past bond cleaved, strained silence left behind.

Even though his fear for her life had tempered his fury, he still saw her as a songbird, resigned to a gilded cage to sing on command and lead a life of clipped wings.

But she learned what she could do - chase dreams and fly high and soar into a new life with its own scars and tears and triumphs.

She walks out the door with a plate of food and a promise to call. When he shuts the front door, it sounds like the closing of a book, her childhood written and read, its last few months unsatisfactory in her father’s review.

When she thinks about it, she wouldn’t have changed a thing.

She plops into the driver’s seat and takes a deep breath, hands tight around the steering wheel, watching as the curtains drift shut. Away from her father’s prying eyes, head in her hands, she lets it out, tears pouring through her fingers, tears of joy, of heartache, of hope, of wonder... and of love.

Then, she reverses out of her driveway, smoothly popping the clutch into first as she heads to retrieve the motorcycle jockey whose calloused hands hold her heart.

It will take days to make it out east.

They had better get started.

There’s nothing but the open road ahead and they get to speed along, together.

And, at dawn, the sun peeking over the interstate is wholly brilliant, warm and peaceful, every single day.