#watches jack's hair spill out from under the pillows where he's buried himself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mollymauk-teafleak · 3 years

Text

Partners in Crime

Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment over on Ao3!

Just a silly little scenario I had rattling around in my head! Huge thanks to @spiky-lesbian and @minky-for-short for always being amazing betas!

tw: mentions of drinking, hangovers

Juno Steel opened his eye and immediately wanted to strangle the person who had designed this hotel room. Any interior decorator who knew they were putting together a hotel room in Nueva Vegas, the prime place on Neptune where people went to get blackout drunk and collect the finest hangover symptoms in the galaxy, yet still insisted on neon wallpaper deserved death.

He inhaled, feeling an ache in his ribs that came from too much raucous laughter and tasting stale alcohol, taking a mental catalogue of his body as his nerves came back online. His eyelashes felt heavy with mascara that had curdled overnight, his throat felt rough with overuse, his stomach only had a slight roil to it, a sea on a choppy day rather than in the middle of a storm. He was wearing the pyjama bottoms he’d actually packed but he couldn’t speak for the shirt- his top half was still wearing last night’s spangled bralet.

And he had Nureyev’s arm thrown bonelessly over his chest, his sharp chin digging a little painfully into his shoulder, his soft snores in one ear and his dark flyaways ticking his nose. His breath smelled pretty strongly of gin but Juno could put up with that, he wasn’t one to throw stones.

Overall, Juno Steel had suffered far worse mornings. In fact, this one would probably still make it into the top twenty.

Smiling, he gently nudged Nureyev to one side, making sure he fell back against the lavish pillows and settled again before sliding out from under the silky sheets. The hotel room’s crisp air conditioning raised goosebumps across his skin as he padded across the room, stockinged feet sinking considerably into the thick, bright pink carpets. They really had made an ungodly mess of one of the most expensive hotel rooms on Neptune, he was pretty impressed with just how many empty plastic glasses, dregs of champagne clinging to their sides, were scattered around the hot tub, just how much glitter had shed from their clothes onto the floor, the probably very incriminating blueprints and files and notes that were scattered like confetti. Not incriminating for the job they’d just pulled off, of course, just several they were considering in the future.

There was no sign of the rest of their family, no Rita singing almost incomprehensible karaoke into a can of chips, no Jet sitting in a chair by the window with his arms folded and head nodding as he slept like an old dad though a whisper of any threat would snap him up and ready. No Buddy and Vespa slow dancing to music only they seemed able to hear while the neon flashes from the signs outside the window bathed them in candy coloured light.

They must have staggered back to their own rooms, just before the celebrations of a job well done would have wound down into a sleepover. Juno frowned as he scratched tiredly at where his hair was matted down, trying to remember. Buddy’s usual habit of making them all drink as much water before bed as she could had saved him from vomiting and a splitting head but memories were still fuzzy. Very fuzzy actually, now he tried to grab hold of them. No wonder his tongue tasted of about half the bottles behind the bar and his bladder felt fit to burst.

By the time he’d gone into the bathroom, wincing at the colour of lime green it had all been done up in, and dealt with that problem he could hear Nureyev stirring.

Coming back into the room, now dressed a little more appropriately in a soft bathrobe, he saw him stretching like a cat, his own wince playing across his sleepy face.

“Good morning,” he rasped, “Feeling rough too, huh?”

“Fairly,” Nureyev croaked, not making it very far before slumping back against the pillows, “What time did Buddy say we had to be back on board?”

“Not till three. It’s only eleven right now.”

“Ugh...I might not make it.”

Juno snorted, rolling his eye, “God, you’re such a lightweight, you whine so much when you’re hungover. Look, I’ll pack the bags, you focus on getting your shoes on. I think one of them’s in the hot tub.”

Nureyev groaned, bringing his hands up to bury his face in them as Juno pulled the curtains wide and flooded the room with pale sunlight. So little actual sunlight could reach this distant gas giant, what fell across Nureyev’s face was actually simulated from a massive rig of translucent spotlights that covered the city much like Mars’ domes. Rita had told him all about it around their third glasses of champagne, before her speech started collapsing into inhuman giggles and nonesene and his memories got cloudy.

He certainly couldn’t remember quite how they’d gotten the room into such a state. It hadn’t even really been that big of a job, a fairly run of the mill casino heist to fund some bigger projects that Buddy had percolating in her brain. But, from the lingering carnage of their celebration, you’d think they’d stolen a goddamn planet rather than a few measly hundred thousands of creds.

And there was a lot of confetti. All over the damn place, where had that all come from?

“Babe?” Juno frowned as he started pulling their papers together, “Do you remember much about last night?”

Nureyev gave a sleep mumble and Juno heard the sound of the silken sheets running over each other as he turned, “I remember us pulling off a job so seamless it deserves to be in some kind of textbook on thieving. I remember everyone coming into our room. I remember Buddy ordering champagne...and that’s it.”

Juno suppressed a snort of amusement. He was sure if it was his husband’s small frame or his lack of experience with the stuff but about two swallows of anything alcoholic had him absolutely useless. Adorable but useless.

“Just seems like we really tore it up for some reason,” Juno shrugged as he moved further along, now gathering up scraps of their disguises- the velour blazer he’d been wearing over that bralet, the other one of Nureyev’s stiletto heels, a diamond ring he couldn’t remember which one of them had worn.

He paused, something about that ring making him stop. It was lying in the midst of some other jewels he’d been wearing yesterday in his role as a ridiculously wealthy outer rim socialite. So it must have been his, he didn’t exactly need his years of experience as a detective to realise that. So why didn’t he remember it? Why did it look so brand new, so out of place with everything else lying in that modest dragon’s horde of luxury?

“My love?”

Juno turned, taking the ring with him, “Yeah?”

Nureyev was still lying in bed, though he was holding his left hand a little ways from his face, frowning curiously up at it as he turned it this way and that. As he watched the fake morning sun catch in the gem on a ring that sat there, a ring identical to the one Juno held.

“Did...did we get married?” Nureyev said slowly, an expression on his face not dissimilar to the one he wore when he was doing one of the many puzzle boxes Juno got him as gifts, after he’d realised a year ago that he loved them.

“Yes, about a year and a half ago. You were there, remember?”

Nureyev shot him a look across the room, “I mean last night, my love.”

Juno sucked in a long, slow breath before answering, throwing the ring up in the air and catching it, “Yeah, that would really explain a lot, huh?”

They caught each other’s eye then and after that there was nothing they could do but laugh, hard and helpless until Juno was having to brace himself on his knees to stay upright and Nureyev was curled on one side and trembling.

Once he could see and breathe clearly again, Juno found it, lying amongst a sheaf of floor plans for the casino they’d robbed yesterday. A wedding certificate, one corner of it crinkled and soaked where some spilled champagne had caught it, a little rumbled from being shoved into the pocket of a velour blazer on the car ride back to the hotel but fairly unmistakeable. The signatures were certainly theirs, even if the names weren’t.

“Yep,” Juno’s face still ached from grinning as he climbed back into bed next to his husband-twice-over, “Apparently once Rigel Fortescue and Jack Antares were done being complete strangers while the Orion’s Palace Casino had half it’s funds drained, they went off and got married.”

“Congratulations to us, I suppose,” Nureyev wiped his streaming eyes, giggles still pressing up against his words, “Oh god help us, is there any way we can keep this from the rest of the crew?”

“Well, looks like they all signed as our witnesses so I don’t think that’s an option, babe,” Juno snorted, showing him the band of signatures clustered along the bottom of the certificate, each one a ridiculous pseudonym but the handwriting was all familiar, even with how drunk their friends had clearly been.

Nureyev gave a groan of dismay that he didn’t really seem to feel, cuddling up against Juno, “Does this make us a little trashy?”

“Yeah well, you knew who I was when you married me,” Juno nudged him teasingly, “Both times.”

“Hush!” Nureyev kissed his shoulder, moving slightly so he could hitch one leg over Juno’s hip. He was still wearing his suit trousers from last night, Juno noticed, if last night really had been their wedding night then they’d neglected a pretty significant part of it.

So he turned to meet Nureyev’s body with his own, wrapping an arm around his slim waist to close what little gap there still was between them, “Maybe this could be our thing? We wear a new name pretty much every week anyhow, why don’t we get married as many times as we feel like? I know personally I’d be willing to go...well, at least another three times. Maybe four, for the money.”

He felt a light nip through the shoulder of the robe as Nureyev admonished him with his teeth. Though his hands were saying something different as they slid down Juno’s back, squeezing lightly.

“I suppose it could be quite a fun tradition…” he murmured softly, “But I would like to remember the next one. Perhaps a beach wedding on Saturn…”

Juno grinned and kissed the top of his head, “Whatever you want, babe. I’ll make sure the next one is perfect.”

“Our first one already was. But there were parts of my moodboards I didn’t get to use…”

Juno nudged him lightly until he was on his back, starting to kiss his way down his neck, tasting his perfume on his lips, “And?”

“And I love you,” Nureyev amended, smiling as innocently as someone very obviously moving his wife’s legs apart with his own could, “And marrying you a thousand times wouldn’t be enough to show you how much.”

“I love you too,” Juno murmured against his collarbone, “Happy honeymoon, baby.”

And, as much of a surprise as it had been, as much as their heads still ached and they could still taste cocktails on each other’s tongues, as much as they had a ship to catch in a few hours, it was. It really, really was.

#jupeter #tpp #juno steel #peter nureyev #post canon #just some daft fluffiness #them being loved up idiots #please reblog and comment!

23 notes · View notes

queenvidal · 4 years

Text

Reuinons

- 6 months are a long time, they have a lot of catching up to do -

- Work on AO3 -

Chapter 2 (NSFW)

The moment the elevator starts moving, Wrex has to shift from one foot to the other. Shepards smile is morphing into a mischievous smirk. "What's the matter, big guy? Nervous?"

"Teasing, Lexis? You should know better than teasing a krogan you left waiting for months."

The smirk vanished as quickly as it had come. Instead her brows move into a frown. "Yeah, sure. Like the Alliance left me a choice."

"No, but I did. Told ya not to hand yourself in. I'd have loved to see 'em try to get you off my planet." Both knew the Alliances would have not tried anything. The peace between Earth and Tuchanka has been too fragile.

Shepard folds her arms in front of her chest. "Mood killer, Wrex."

"Nah." He chuckles. "I know how to get you back in the mood." If only the damn elevator would hurry. His groin plates started shifting the moment he got word of the other races agreeing to board the Normandy for negotiations. Wrex armor is getting tighter and tighter. This topic might be a mood killer for her but surely not for him. If anything it reminds him of how long he has been abstinent.

Neither of them said something about monogamy but still Wrex waited for her. The women of his clan are hard to seduce and furthermore his mind was very occupied with gaining and keeping his power among his clan and the others.

Except for the one time he was on the Citadel, when he paid Cora's Den one final visit before it closed. They never lacked of beautiful dancers and hookers. He considered taking a human to the private areas of the club but in the end he just payed for his drinks and left.

Somehow it didn't feel right. And for some reason he didn't find the human females nor the asari very alluring. Something he noticed with his own females, too. The work of making them agree to sleep with him started to seem not worth the outcome anymore. Not to mention that fun and enjoyment never were the main focus when sleeping with krogans anyway. Is only about procreation, nothing more.

Oftentimes Wrex found his thoughts around his former Commander. Her lips and what they were capable of. Something no krogan could give him. Sure, Coras humans could have done it and probably even their asari but if he's honest with himself, it's not about the strange mouth pillows in particular, it's about them being Alexis.

He still remembers the last time they were together, how she smelled, how she tasted, how she wiggled underneath him in ecstasy. Wrex can feel his quad tighten in anticipation, his armor is getting painfully tight. But he is holding himself back, he'd rather have her in the privacy of her cabin, than in this poor excuse of an elevator.

Shepard seems to notice the reason behind his discomfort. They had a similar situation happen when she was on Tuchanka before she left for the Collector-Base. "So…" Her voice sounds suspiciously playful. Slowly she turns, facing him completely. With a coy grin on her face, her hands are wandering up his chest until they stop just beneath the exposed hide of his neck. "You really waited for me? A wonder you didn't exploded during my time under arrest. Six months are a long time after all."

The elevator it is, then. Without a word he grabs her, lifting her up. Shepard quickly wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him to her even closer. Having her trapped between him and the wall, Wrex buries his face in the crook of her neck to savor her sweet smell. Damn, she smells even better than he remembered, having him even more turned on. Krogans may lack of lips for kissing but he quickly learned he still can nip at her skin. Having her sighing nevertheless.

The stupid jacked of hers is getting in his way eventually, blocking him from the soft skin of her throat. Alexis can hear the buttons flying against the metal ground, Wrex ripped through the cloth but she couldn't care less with his hot breath against her neck.

Finally the elevator doors open. Just in time. Wrex carries her out to the small anteroom. Her legs let go and he carefully lets her down, only to spin her around.

Wrex is wasting no time, he opens up the seals of the goin plate of his armor. Finally releasing his rock hard member. Shepard hurries as well, she pulls both her trousers and her panties down, letting them pool around her ankles.

She almost has no time to brace herself against the wall, when Wrex kicks her feet further apart to get better access to her hot core.

The sweet scent of her arousal is floating Wrex nostrils, almost driving him insane. He positions himself behind her, coating the tip of his member with her excitement. With one quick thrust he enters her. He moans against her shoulder and she against the wall. Fuck, for how long was he craving for this?

But Wrex won't let her adjust to his size, he starts moving forcefully, pushing in further, just to withdraw again. His talons are buried deep into the sensitive skin of her hips while he takes her in a fast rhythm. His grasp might be too hard but he couldn't care less. That what she gets for teasing him and her moaning and sighing speaks for itself, no complaining from her side.

Shepards legs start to tremble, the sensation of Wrex blunt spikes along his length is almost too much to bare. His thick and pointy tip is hitting are her g-spot with unbelievable precision. The tight coil in her belly is about to burst at any second.

Wrex can feel her already tight walls closing in on him. Fuck, this woman is like a vice. Her moaning and slick hot wetness is drawing Wrex closer to the edge with every movement of his hips. When he feels her pulsing around him, after a few more hard thrust, he starts losing his rhythm. With a low grunt he spills himself inside her but instead of catching his breath he withdraws completely.

Shepard wants to complain but whatever she was about to say, dies in her throat when Wrex spins her around to face him again. She looks up at him with flushed cheeks and half lidded eyes while his are burning with desire. Wrex grabs her thighs and picks her up to presses her against the wall again. He spreads her legs as far as possible.

Shepard lets her head fall back when he pushes into her again. With the new angle, his groin plates are pressing against her clit. It feels way too good and she's biting her lips, trying to keep her sounds down.

Something Wrex notices and doesn't approve of. He darts his tongue out and licks over her pulse point. His human buries her nails into his chest plate in response. But the muffled moans are still too quiet for his liking.

Wrex increases the speed and strength of his thrusts, almost slamming into her. Shepard clings to him for dear life, she is close again. Wrex nips at her neck one final time before he bites her where her neck and shoulder meet.

Unable to hold back anymore, Alexis cries out, not in pain but in pure pleasure. It's throwing her over the edge, hard. Her orgasm is leaving her squirming in her krogans hands. Wrex is responding with an orgasm of his own, her tightening and spasming walls making him follow her suit only seconds later.

Both are panting heavily, not letting go of each other. Wrex leans his head against the cool metal of the wall while Shepard lets her head drop onto his shoulder as they recover. Not trusting her legs yet, Wrex tugs her closer and starts carrying her to the door, down the steps and to her bed, where he carefully lays her down.

Shepard swipes loose strands of hair from her forehead as she looks up at her krogan with a small smile on her lips. "Done already?"

A low laugh rumbles through Wrex chest. “Heh, this was just foreplay. I’m everything but done with you just yet.” Only now he stars to remove the rest of his armor, Shepard crowls to the end of the bed to help him. It's falls unceremoniously to the ground, piece by piece until he's completely naked.

He looks down at her to find her beaming at him. Damn, she is a sight. Slowly Wrex leans down to nip on her lips and Shepard kisses him back. It's ridiculous but Wrex can't deny he likes it. "My turn." She whispers against his skin.

The bed shifts and protests loudly under Wrex weight but it doesn’t break. This time. Carefully he leans back against the headboard of her bed, watching her getting rid of the ridiculous jacket and her bra underneath it.

Leisurely she's coming closer to straddle his legs. Wrex eyes wander over her naked form as she's slowly lowering her head towards his member. His pulse quickens when he feels the tip of her tongue taking its time to wander from the base up his length and to the head. She encircles it with her full lips and starts bobbing her head down ever so slowly.

Dammit, it feels even better than he called to mind. It takes all his strength not to move his hips to thrust into her warm mouth. Her slow pace is maddening and perfect at the same time. Too much and not enough.

The Clan-Chief can’t keep from growling, when Shepard starts to suck on his tip. She circles it with her tongue every now and then and continues to suck again. Taking more of his length in with everytime she does it.

Stars are dancing behind Wrex eyelids. When he closed his eyes, he can't remember and he doesn't care. This is way too good to allow even the shortest of coherent thoughts. Alexis tongue starts playing with the blunt spikes of his shaft while swallowing around him.

Wrex buries his talons in the sheets, almost tearing them. "Fuck…" He pulls even harder at the sheets, when he can feel Shepards delicate fingers massaging his quad while the speed of her working him with her mouth increases.

Eventually she releases him again with a loud plop . Wrex opens his eyes again, just in time to see her carefully lowering herself onto him. A sigh leaves her swollen lips when he enters her again. Both stay still for a moment, only looking at each other before Alexis starts moving.

Every so slowly she is rocking her hips. Leaning on his chest for leverage, before she starts to push her legs to go up and down.

While enjoying the sight of her taking pleasure in riding him, Wrex lets his hands wander from her thighs up to the hips, where bruises are already developing. He can't tear his eyes from the traces of his talons on her dark skin. A visible mark, that she belongs to him. The idea alone is making his head dizzy. He encourages her to go harder by meeting her hip movements by his own.

Shepard moans in response. "Ah, Wrex." And is going faster with her rhythm. Her walls are already starting to close around him again. He increases in speed as well. With his hands buried in the flesh of her tights again, he thrusts up quickly and hard. Her skin is clapping against his hide and plates. It's music in his ears.

Her moaning is getting louder and louder, encouraging Wrex to let go of his self control. Her whole body starts to shake from the intensity of her orgamsn, when he takes her with force. Alexis is so hot and almost painfully tight, Wrex can’t hold himself back any longer. He slams into her until his quad tightens, preparing for the elease.

He comes undone in her with a loud and deep rumble in his chest. It is vibrating through his whole body and his vision goes white. Wrex is completely losing all his senses for a long moment.

It takes him a while to come back. When he is able to collect himself again, he finds that the tip of his cock started to swell, same for his once blunt spikes.

Wrex tears his eyes open, when he realises what just happened. He looks up at the Commander, who looks back at him with wide open eyes, stunned. "What the fuck, Wrex?” She asks, still panting.

“Sorry.” He simply whispers, completely out of breath and still a bit dazed. Without a thought he adjusts his hips, causing Shepard to hiss in pain. His spikes are keeping her in place and punish even the slightest movement. “Shit, Wrex. What is that?”

“I… got carried away.” He starts as he lets his hands fall back onto her thighs. “I… we are locked. Won’t last long, though. A few minutes.”

It is silent for a few moments until Shepard realizes what's going on. “Did… did you just knot with me?”

Wrex doesn’t answer, he is still catching his breath. He catches the faint sound of a chuckle and light touches on his mouth. Shepard lowered herself down as far as his spikes allowed her to to kiss him. “Should I feel honored?”

“Not when you are so damn smut about it.” He raises his arms to hug her to him. “Just be grateful it didn’t happen in your mouth.”

Another chuckle and then silence again. Damn, as mind blowing as this was, the krogan Clan-Chief is feeling exhausted. All his limbs feel like heavy jelly and his eyes refuse to open.

Shepard nuzzles her head at his neck, slowly laying down on his chest. For once she doesn’t say anything, just letting him hug her.

Wrex is savoring the moment of having his human knot with him. He totally forgot this feeling. Until now he did it only once, when he still was a young and stupid krogan, just after his rite with a female he can’t even remember the name of. Ever since no other woman ever got him even close to knotting.

Hell, if someone had told him, someday he would have Commander Shepard kept in place by his member, he’d simply shot the person for talking shit.

The swell of the spikes and the tip is wearing off, releasing Shepard from their hold, but neither her nor Wrex make any attempt to move. Shepards thumb is drawing lazy circles on his chest and he does the same on her back.

“I’ve missed you.” He feels her whisper against his neck.

“Of course you did.” He earns a light punch on his chest from her in return but he just huffs a laugh. While still hugging her, he rolls them to the side, finally able to face her without looking down at her all the time.

It should be weird. Finding peace and comfort in the arms of a female human. To knot with one even. But it isn't, it feels right. He still can't quite believe he is with her, that she is as attracted to him as he is to her. As strange as it is, Wrex wouldn’t trade it for anything, except for-

“Commander, the Dallatras gave us the exact position of the krogan females and left the ship. Do you want us to set course?”

Shepard answers Traynor with a simply “Yes.” Not making any effort to move out of her lovers arms. It will take hours to get to Sur'kesh anyway, a short nap won’t hurt. Slowly but surely the Commander drifts off to sleep, when suddenly she feels Wrex low voice rumble through his chest.

“Hey, Lexis?”

“Hm?”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

#ao3 #shepard x wrex #Wrex #urdnot wrex #Fanfic #Mass effect #mass effect 3

43 notes · View notes

asherranceoftheheart · 4 years

Text

Icarus Falls - Ch. II - Heat Haze Days

Story Summary: “You’ll never leave me alone right?“ "You think I’d actually let you go?”

A story about the slow descent and corruption of a lonely man, a demon who learns that bonds go both ways, brothers who deeply regrets their words spoken out of anger, and a conflicted man watching them all fall down from the distance. Here’s a Puppet!Chase AU that was written with extreme self-indulgence so beware and read the tags before entering.

Chapter Summary: In which some of you will hate me for what happens in this chapter. fucking rip everyone Pairing/s: None, Platonic Character/s: Jack McLoughlin, Chase Brody, Antisepticeye, Mentions of Other Septic Egos Genre: Angst, Fluff Chapter Warning/s: Creepy!Anti, Self-Deprecating Thoughts (Thoughts like I’m not as good as the others, etc.), Sadness (Archive Of Our Own Edition) (Prev. Chapter)

He was burning.

His head felt like it was a plugged up kettle, waiting to burst forth with the built-up pressure from the heat attempting to push out with a loud bang. His throat felt like he had swallowed up a mixture of burning coals and sandpaper. His skin was so sensitive that the previously comfortable weight of the comforter on his body was now suffocating and its cloth scratched roughly against his skin.

It was all too much! The mixture of pain and overstimulation drove him to kick the blankets off his body although that had probably been the worst action he could’ve taken right now. The sudden movement seemed to have taken out all the air in his lungs and he wheezed and curled up into a ball on his bed. His teeth clicked and chattered loudly while he shivered and trembled despite the fire that was burning a trail through his veins.

Through the heated haze of his mind, he knows that he has to go take his own temperature and find the meds that are in the other room. So with a loud groan scraping up his raw throat, he uncurled from his ball and attempted to sit up on the side of the bed. However, if it was as if he suddenly lost all control and strength in his shaking limbs and he careened forwards into the thankfully carpeted floor with a loud crash.

“Oh fuck, Chase!” He heard muffled stomping footsteps run towards him before two strong arms pulled him up to lean him back against the bed.

Chase opened up the eyes that he didn’t even notice he had closed and blinked hazily at the pair of grey-blue eyes gazing at him with concern.

“J-Jack?” Chase whispered hoarsely through the lump that had formed in his throat.

The man before him blinked, confusion darkening his eyes at the lost look that had shifted over Chase’s glazed expression.

“I mean… Yeah? Who else would it be? Henrik? The guy who practically lives in the hospital?” The man snorted and gave him a light-hearted smile. “I’m your only housemate, remember?”

Right… Right. Jackie, Marvin, and Henrik lived in their own places while Chase lived with Jack because they both didn’t like being alone. Originally, Chase had been planning on moving out a few weeks after he had been ‘born’ but he and Jack came to like being housemates too much and it just never happened.

Jack sighed and smiled when he saw the recognition click in Chase’s eyes. He pressed their foreheads together as they normally did when they were comforting the other before he yelped and jerked back with a flinch.

“Yikes! You’re burning up like the sun there, Chasey,” the older man rubbed his own forehead with a frown before he slipped his arms under Chase’s body and lifted him back up onto his bed.

He ran his fingers through the feverish man’s sweat matted hair, untangling some of the knots that tried to hamper his hand’s movements. Jack reached into his pocket and brought out his smartphone.

“Wait a sec there, would you? I’m going to get our thermometer and call our resident Doc to ask what I should do with you?” Jack covered his heated eyes with a cold hand and Chase closed them in bliss as it soothed the fire.

He must have drifted off for a small bit because the next time he opened his eyes, it was to the feel of something metallic being pressed into the hole of his ear and he heard a tiny beep before it was removed. He heard Jack click his tongue and murmur something too low for him to hear before he felt his bed dip at the other man’s weight.

Chase rolled over to his side and moved closer to Jack. He buried his face against his older brother’s side with a sigh before Jack moved him so that he was laying his head on his lap. Jack started to play with his hair again, digging his fingers deep into his scalp to relieve some of the painful tension drilling insistently from the inside of his head.

“I missed you so much,” Chase whimpered deliriously before he began to cry.

“Oh Chase… Why would you miss me when I haven’t left your side in the first place? You were probably just having a terrible nightmare that seemed to be lasting forever because of your fever,” Jack wiped away his tears and snot with the tissue he pulled from the nearby box. He leaned down and brushed his lips against Chase’s heated forehead before straightening back up. “Schneep said we’ll have to lower your temperature with the good old cold towel later on after I’ve given you your meds.”

Jack gave him an indulgent smile when his face twisted at the prospect of having to taste the bitter aftertaste of the medicine being washed down by bland water. His caretaker nudged him gently to warn him that he was about to move him before he helped the sick man sit up against the headboard, giving him stability in the form of the pillows he propped up on his back.

“Don’t worry, Chaser. I know how much you hate the taste of medicine so before I came back up, I heated up a bowl of the leftover chicken soup from the fridge to help you swallow your medicine down.” Jack told him before he stood up. “Wait there while I get the bowl from the microwave downstairs.”

“Not like I can move anyway,” Chase slurred his words, blinking drowsily at his brother who chuckled and patted him on the head before he walked away.

He was left by himself in the silence of his room. Chase reached up to touch his forehead where Jack’s touch continued to linger like a burning mark. How long has it been since he had been touched this gently? How much longer has it been since somebody took care of him while he was sick rather than him just stumbling into the other rooms and downstairs to nurse himself back to health?

A terrible nightmare…

It certainly would be one wouldn’t it? A demon haunting him and his family, a brother who’s basically trapped in a Sleeping Beauty curse type of sleep, a missing brother who was spirited away by the mentioned demon, and his other distant brothers who were having adventures in god knows where…

Before he could even allow himself to think deeper on that line of thought, Jack came back holding a steaming bowl of soup in his hands, the fragrance coming from the food awakened the monster that was his stomach.

G R O W L

He could see the growing mirth in his brother’s eyes but he ignored it. Previous thoughts forgotten and vanished like a wisp in the air in favor of concentrating on sating the ravenous hunger that seemed to have possessed him. Chase’s eyes followed the bowl like a predator stalking his prey. Jack teasingly moved the bowl around and snickered when his sick brother’s baby blue eyes never lost sight of it.

“Looks like somebody is hungry,” Jack teased his brother who in a sudden burst of childishness stuck his tongue out at him. “Cranky too, I see.”

“I will fuck you up,” Chase vowed with the fire and spite only a younger sibling could muster up against their older sibling. He narrowed his eyes at Jack but only succeeded in looking more like he was constipated.

He sulked when Jack tweaked his nose as if he was just the cutest little thing and heard him chuckle at his scowl.

“Sure you will,” Jack patted his flushed cheek with the most patronizing spirit an older sibling would use to infuriate their cute younger sibling. “I’m sure you’re going to fuck me up when you can’t even crawl on your stomach without feeling like you’re about to die.”

Jack left him there to sulk crankily at the face of the harsh truth he just laid on him while he went to the bathroom to get a towel to place on Chase’s body just in case they spilled his food. His caretaker settled the tower over his body making sure that most of his lap and chest are covered before dragging a nearby chair to sit beside Chase’s side. He scooped up a spoonful of soup and blew on it until it was warm and not scalding on the tongue.

“Want me to do the here comes the train schtick?” Jack sarcastically asked while holding up the spoon.

“Excuse me, you know I like the airplane one better,” Chase huffed petulantly before opening his mouth.

Jack made sarcastic airplane noises before he fed the soup to his brother, “Don’t choke on your veggies now, you big baby.”

Chase chewed on his food spitefully slow before making a show of swallowing it down.

“But Daddy,” even if it will kill his throat, Chase forced himself to pitch his tone up into a perfect copy of a whining child’s voice, “I wanna eat now!”

He watched with unrestrained glee as Jack nearly lost his grip on the bowl at his lap and threw his head back with a loud cackle. He had to place the bowl down on the bedside drawer while he curled in on his stomach from the force of his cackling. Jack slammed his hand down on the bed and grip the blankets tightly while his body shook in his attempt to calm himself down.

“You son of a bitch,” Jack panted as he finally reduced his cackles to giggling before he reached over to lock Chase’s head under his arms and heavily mussed up the extremely proud-looking man’s hair in spite of his outraged squeals. “Alright then son, open your mouth for Daddy. Here comes your airplane!”

He let go of his victim’s head and grabbed the bowl again. He scooped up another spoonful of soup again and began making it fly all over, taking care not to spill anything, before he led it back to Chase. If Chase didn’t feel like he’s going to die if he busted a gut laughing, he’d probably be keeled over on the bed wheezing like Jack had been earlier.

If Henrik was here, he’d be rolling his eyes at their dumbass antics.

Chase opened his mouth waiting for Jack to place the food in and looked at the other with a confused blink when the other man seemed to have gone into a stupor and stared at him with a dumbfounded look before he inhaled sharply and let out a sharp snicker. However, Jack didn’t elaborate on the weird pause, only snorting and snickering when Chase asked him about it.

It took them nearly an entire hour before the bowl was cleared of every drop of soup because of their teasing and horsing around, and Chase had finally taken his medicine while making a disgusted face the entire time he could feel the pill moving down his throat. In spite of still feeling like absolute garbage, his chest was warm not with the fever but with the happiness pulsing through his veins. His headache slash migraine is still there but it was being offsetted by the light-headedness that came from the drug like high of being given all the physical and verbal affection that he’s been craving from his best friend.

Jack helped him change into lighter clothes after noticing that his pajamas were soaked with his sweat. He said that Henrik mentioned that’s a good thing since it’ll help cool down his insides but it can’t be comfortable being weighed down by sweat-soaked clothes. Jack helped him drink a few glasses of water while rubbing his back to help him swallow down the stale taste and murmured small words of praises of how he’s being so good and how he’s so proud of him that eased most of the discomfort that he was feeling.

After asking him if he needed to go to the bathroom to which he replied in the negative, Jack helped him lay on his back again. The man smoothed his sweat matted hair back and told him that he’s going downstairs to wash the soup bowl and get fresh cold water to wipe him down with.

Chase blinked up at his ceiling in a dazed manner. He probably looked like he was drunk out of his mind right now with his half-lidded glazed blue eyes, the still prominent feverish flush on his cheeks, and his doped out silly grin that hasn’t faded ever since the fun that he just had. His mind kept replaying the past hour over and over almost obsessively to the point that he nearly didn’t notice his brother come back from his previous task. He heard footsteps and turned his head to blink at Jack who was now holding a wash basin that he was carrying carefully into the room. He placed it on top of the bedside drawer before bringing out the ear thermometer.

“Turn your head a bit,” Jack tapped his cheek with cold fingertips.

Chase turned his head to the side so that Jack could use the thermometer on his ear. He heard the soft click of a button being pushed and a few seconds later, the thing beeped and he felt it being removed.

“Thirty nine point one celsius… At least it’s gone down by point four.” Jack hummed to himself before he turned his body over to the wash bowl and slipped off the white towel that had been draped over his shoulders to dunked it into the water.

The sound of cloth being submerged into water before it was wrung out reached Chase’s ears. He turned his face back into the front position just as Jack lifted the wet towel up and started to dab the blissfully cold cloth all over his face and neck. Chase closed his eyes with a content sigh while Jack dunked the towel again and wrung out all the water before folding it into a small rectangle to place it on his forehead.

“That feels… nice…” Chase slurred his words while he blindly reached out for Jack’s hand and was rewarded by the man knotting their fingers together.

“It does, doesn’t it?” He could hear the smile on Jack’s voice.

They stayed in that position in silence while Jack would occasionally change the towel after it had lost its cold temperature.

“Where’s the others?” Chase suddenly asked, his drifting mind thinking of their other brothers especially Henrik who must be worried out of his head whenever he hears that one of them was sick.

“They’re busy with things but they might come by if they have some free time,” Jack answered while he rubbed the back of Chase’s hand in soothing circles.

“Mkay,” Chase muttered and they were silent again.

He must have drifted off for a few minutes again because he didn’t even notice that Jack had left for a bit before he was startled out of the sleepy haze at the sound of his brother cursing and something dropping on top of the bedside drawer loudly.

“Ah shit, I woke you up didn’t I?” Jack looked dismayed when he noticed that Chase’s eyes snapped open and was blinking at him owlishly. “Sorry Chaser, I stubbed my toe on your bed.”

“‘S okay,” Chase yawned and sleepily watched Jack as he sat back down in his previous position and made a new fresh towel to place it back on his forehead before looping their fingers together again. “Changed the water?”

“Yeah, you actually napped for an hour,” his brother smiled down at him and reached over with his free hand to pull the blanket up to his chin. “Sorry I woke you up.”

Chase doesn’t mind. He closed his eyes again, still feeling extremely fatigued from his sickness. They stayed there in silence. He could feel Jack’s gaze intently watching him and normally, he’d make a quip about how he’s being a little creep now he just felt comforted and safe under his watchful eyes.

“Hey Jack?” Chase cut through the silence with a whisper.

“Hm?” He felt him lean closer to hear him better.

“You’re… not going to leave right?” Chase peeked one eye open to watch Jack’s reaction.

His brother’s face was pensive as he considered the question that he laid on him out of nowhere. Then Jack huffed and tweaked his nose again, Chase just scrunching it up as a response to the by now another one of his brother’s affectionate slash teasing gestures towards him.

“Course not, if I left who’d nag you to death about taking better care of yourself?” Jack smirked and tapped the reddening spot on the tip of his nose. “You’re not getting rid of me for a very, very long time, Chaser.”

Chase’s lips quirked up into a tiny but adoring smile at his words. He relaxed back onto the bed and closed his eyes. Now that the serotonin rush has fully faded away, he felt himself crashing harder than he’s ever crashed before. The exhaustion from his stressful days (or was it nightmares?) and his fever dragged him down into that weird tiny barrier between the worlds of sleep and the waking.

“I love you, Jack,” Chase murmured and finally gave in to the persistent tugging of sleep.

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

Now that Chase had fallen into deep sleep, ‘Jack’ allowed his long ruse to fully drop. Those kind blue-grey eyes shifted back into acid green eyes that blankly stared down at the sleeping form. The friendly face that had comforted Chase so much lost the layered over illusion of softness as it was replaced by harder, sharper features that were accented by the sneer that was twisting down his lips.

Chase didn’t see his closest friend turn back into the monster that had been making his life a living hell for nearly an entire year. But then again… Chase never noticed that his neck had been wrapped with blood-stained bandages or the infamous black shirt and ripped jeans that would’ve been a dead giveaway that he wasn’t his Jack.

Was the blindness due to deliriousness brought about by his fever or was it willful blindness for the sake of allowing himself to be fooled so long as he kept up the happy ruse?

Anti looked down at their joined hands with disdain, observing the way Chase clutched it as if he or rather ‘Jack’ was his personal lifeline. However, despite the venomous look, he didn’t even attempt to pry it off.

“How annoyingly clingy,” the demon drawled yet oddly enough his harsh words only had half the poison it would normally have.

‘Is this why you’re so protective over him, Jack? Because he needed you more than you needed him?’ The demon asked the other who he knows would rather cut off his tongue than answer such questions. He sat there among the silence, absentmindedly rubbing the back of Chase’s hand with a thumb.

He stayed still for a few more minutes, head inclined to the side as if trying to listen for a voice that would never come.

Silence.

Anti huffed and smirked coldly at the wall, ‘You’re pathetic, Jack.’

He looked down at the younger ego when he heard him mutter something unintelligible under his breath. He tilted his head to the side, green eyes making note of the small shivers through Chase’s body and the slight wheezing. His mind went back to the past few hours where a spark burned bright as the sun in the man’s normally dull blue eyes. That happiness had been rather… infectious.

Anti scrunched up his nose in disgust.

“You’re even more pathetic,” Anti muttered angrily towards the sleeping man. “Falling apart just because you’re alone… This is why you’re the weakest link.”

He doesn’t understand why Chase had been so relaxed around him just because he so earnestly believed that he was Jack and easily believed his half-hearted lie that the past few months had just been a fever-induced vivid nightmare. Sure he was sick but Anti didn’t even try hiding most of his physical cues save for his eyes and softening the curves of his face.

Chase clung to him but it wasn’t really him that he was holding on to, he attached himself to Anti with the stubbornness of a leech and looked up at him with those deliriously happy eyes but he knew that the person Chase was seeing was the person that Anti hated the most in this entire universe.

Anti growled and scratched the side of his itching neck as something in him seemed to twist and curl with an emotion that he couldn’t quite identify himself. He had been so busy trying to comprehend the odd, irritating emotion that was buzzing beneath his skin that his soul nearly glitched out of his body when Chase moved in his sleep again and was now hugging his hand like a teddy bear, nuzzling his still flushed cheek against Anti’s hand. He watched the idiot’s towel slide down his face to the bed, creating a wet spot on the mattress.

…

He was starting to drool.

The eldest ego resisted the urge to sigh.

“It’s rather ironic what I barely even had to put any effort in our little game,” Anti tried to push his face back with a finger on his cheek but Chase just scowled in his sleep and nuzzled Anti’s hand in a more aggressive manner. “Clingy little bastard… I wonder if you’d still snuggle my hand this hard if you know where that thing’s been?”

Not that he wouldn’t know the answer to that considering little Chase practically hates his guts. If the younger ego had been more aware of his surroundings, he would have recoiled from his touch as if he had been burned by fire and would have spat insults trying to hide the wounded, almost feral gleam in those blue eyes.

It was interesting how his plans could change just on a single whim. Originally, he planned on merely inflicting worse nightmares on the man’s feverish psyche and messing with his senses when he’d stumble around the house trying to find the medicine and other materials he’ll need to bunk up in his bed to bear the sickness but then… He took one look at Chase’s panting, feverish state and he wondered just how far would he be able to take pretending to be his saintly older brother before the sick man would notice anything.

The answer to that is a lot.

Anti was willing to admit to himself that he did get too into his own acting out of his anticipation of witnessing the sheer fury, the denial, and the shattered visage of this man as he realized that he clutched so sweetly, so desperately to the demon who had been the main cause for his daily hell.

He wondered just what exactly Chase would do once he finally gave up the ruse. Would he scream his throat hoarse or until he was coughing out blood? Would he charge at him, seeing only red and thinking only of lashing out at the demon who fooled him, or would he run away like the coward that he was? Would he place his hands over his ears and tightly close his eyes while he shook his head in utter denial or what just happened? Or would he cry and cry and cry until he had no tears left and his spirit had been shredded into pieces?

An eerily wide smile slowly began to stretch out across his face as he tightened his grip around Chase’s hand. He lifted the drying towel from its fallen position and soaked it in the plastic bowl. The demon took his time wringing out the water from the towel before he began to wipe it gently, almost tenderly, all over Chase’s face.

“You better give me a nice show worth remembering later on, baby brother,” Anti cooed sweetly and pressed the cold towel over the sleeping man’s cheek. “Who know? Perhaps you might even surprise me. If you do… I will be very very pleased.”

Anti leaned over and pressed a small kiss on the top of Chase’s head, the brown fluff tickling his nose.

“Enjoy those sweet dreams while you can, clingy little puppet.”

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

Jack woke him up a few hours later to get the next dosage of his fever medicine. He was feeling much better compared to his previous bout of consciousness to the point that he didn’t need Jack’s help to go to the bathroom.

Chase leaned on the doorway of the bathroom after washing his hands and grimaced as the world lightly spun around him and the ground on his feet slowly began to disappear. This is why he hated getting sick. Even doing the simplest tasks makes him feel like he was one of those IPhones that would go from one hundred to thirty percent battery in two minutes just because he accidentally left the screen brightness a little bit higher than usual.

His caretaker was waiting for him on his bed, watching the other man play with his phone before he finally noticed him.

“What’re you doing over there?” Jack then gestured for him to come near with a wave of his hand and patted the free space on his side. “Come on over.”

“I’m gonna get you sick,” Chase protested weakly but still he walked over to his bed and slid into the space that Jack made for him. He maintained a few inches of distance between him and the healthy man.

Jack rolled his eyes and shuffled closer so that they’re shoulder to shoulder.

“Then we’ll just do the sick bro solidarity while Hen takes care of us and calls us dumbasses while cursing our existence the entire time.” Jack chirped while he waved his phone around. “By the way, Henrik sends his regards.”

His tone took an odd turn at the last sentence. Jack was wearing a secretive smile with a gleam in his eyes like he was laughing at a joke that only he could understand. Chase squinted at him suspiciously but thinking too hard on whatever his brother was implying was far too painful for his head. Jack ‘rewarded’ his suspicious look with a finger flick on his forehead.

“Hey!” Chase yelped and grumbled while he rubbed the stinging skin. “What’s with the weird tone and smile? Did you play a prank on Henrik or something?”

Jack let out a loud bark of laughter at his rapidly fired questions.

“Man, you’re getting pretty smart. That means you’re getting better!” Jack’s smile widened and it took on that same odd twist that slightly unnerved Chase earlier. “As for Henrik… Yeah, let’s just say I pulled a pretty neat prank on him. His reactions are starting to get boring and predictable though.”

“He’s going to kill you,” Chase stated as a matter of fact, his tone just sending Jack into another fit of giggles.

“I’d like him to actually try,” Jack smirked before turning over to relax on his back and crossed his arms under his head.

Chase yawned and he cursed himself for his sick body’s constant need for sleep. Jack chuckled at his frustration and let him lean his head against his side.

“How about the others?” Chase asked. “Did they pass by while I was completely dead to the world?”

“Jackie seems a bit busy right now along with Marvin. You know how those two are when they’re focused on their own projects or jobs. It’s like the entire world disappears and nothing else matters to them,” Jack’s voice was soft with both fondness and exasperation at those duo’s antics. “Remember that time you accidentally sprained one of your legs and had a concussion because you smacked the side of your head against the edge of a table when you fell down while you were attempting one of your more complicated trick shots? Those two idiots only found out two days after cause Henrik had to drag Jackie out from his headquarters because he wasn’t answering his phone and Marv was doing one of those magic projects that he spent days obsessing over.”

Jack shook his head while making a face when he remembered the aftermath.

“Henrik gave them some harsh tongue lashing after that. I thought he was going to kill them on the spot,” Jack murmured and slid his arms out from behind his head and slipped one under Chase’s neck as a makeshift pillow. “Can’t say I’d blame him for being so angry though.”

Chase slumped down at that. The memory of that day was blurry because of his headache but he could still remember the gist.

“You were too.” He softly pointed out, remembering the blank look that had shifted over Jack’s face while he avoided looking at the other two.

“Course I was… What if that had been a serious emergency? Two days would’ve already been far too late for them to come back,” Chase glanced at Jack’s face and noticed that he has the same expression that he had back then.

“They’re always on time when it’s for important stuff,” he defended his two older brothers and Jack turned this time to look him in the eyes.

“And you’re not important stuff?” There was a storm lurking beneath those eyes as he quietly asked him that damned question.

He could feel the blood in his face draining out at the snapback. Chase shuddered and looked away from those far too seeing eyes. A lump had grown inside his throat and he had to painfully swallow it down before he could answer.

“Can we not… talk about that? Please?” He pleaded and looked back with cracked glass for eyes.

Jack’s pensive look fell at that sight and he immediately turned over to tug Chase into his arms. Chase hid his face against his chest and shivered, trying to keep his heart together.

“Aw… You know I hate it when you look at me like that. It always feels like I kicked a wounded puppy or something,” Jack rested his cheek on top of Chase’s fluffy hair and rubbed the back of his neck to get him to relax. “I just don’t like it when you think that you’re the least important among all of us just because you seem the most normal, Chaser.”

Chase bit down the bitter words ‘aren’t I?’ and settled for pressing his ear on top of Jack’s chest and listening to the calming sound of his heartbeat.

The light atmosphere had been tainted by the sudden downturn of their conversation. He felt Jack breathe in and heave out a sigh before the older man began to tap his fingers up and down his spine.

“Sorry for ruining the mood, Chase,” Jack truly sounded very apologetic and this time it was Chase’s turn to feel like he just kicked a sad puppy. “I know you don’t like talking about these sorts of topics…”

“‘S alright. ‘M just not in the mood to get therapy especially from you.” Chase mumbled, injecting some sass at the end to lighten up the mood again.

He was relieved when he heard Jack snort at his half-assed joke.

“I’ll have you know I’m a good talker and listener,” He felt the chest pressed against his ear expand with Jack’s faked angry huff.

Chase just laughed and shook his head with a fond smile teasing at the edge of his lips, “I know.”

He closed his eyes and found himself easing drifting back into the world of dreams especially when he feels so safe and warm in his watchful older brother’s arms.

The man who had just fallen asleep doesn’t notice the comforting hand that had been previously rubbing the back of his neck grab the back collar of his shirt as if to pull him away from its disgruntled owner. It paused when Chase whimpered and curled deeper into his arms. A few seconds later, the hand relaxed and just settled on the middle of his back.

“Gone running back to the world of dreams again, Chaser? Careful now… Someone might just mistake your running away as a desire to replace Jackaboy in his coma,” Anti muttered.

He paused.

Chase was warm, Anti had noticed now. It wasn’t just because of his fever but his soul… It felt like he was sleeping near the fireplace while it was in the middle of winter.

“...” Anti decided to give in and indulge himself just this once. He closed his eyes and realized that perhaps this was the most peaceful and silent his normally buzzing mind has ever been. “Goodnight, Chaser. Get well soon.”

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

Chase woke up to Jack’s back touching against his own. He couldn’t help but quirk up a tiny grin at the soft sound of snoring coming from the other man. And Jack said that he doesn’t snore…

He took inventory of his own body’s current stats. The headache was practically gone, leaving a dull numb throb that felt more like a heavy weight on his head rather than anything painful. His body still feels weak and he doesn’t trust himself to jump around the stairs but he thinks that he’s getting there. His head and sight was also much clearer now, the world doesn’t feel like it’s constantly five inches away from his grasp and he’s not getting that falling down the rabbit hole weightlessness so he’s counting that as a win.

He reached up to feel the back of his hand against his forehead and let out a soundless sigh when it still felt hotter than normal. Well… He can’t exactly expect himself to immediately get better just because he spent an entirely relaxing day sleeping away. At least he’s not boiling from the inside anymore.

Chase looked around and caught sight of his phone on the drawer on his side of the bed. He wonders how the rest of the world was doing and wanted to get a peek before he decided to go for more naps. He moved slowly so that he didn't disturb the snoring man from his sleep and grabbed his phone. He pressed the side button and waited for it to boot up.

Once his phone screen fully loaded (both of his lock screen and wallpaper is of him and his brothers which never failed to make him smile), he froze when a text notification popped up on his screen.

Dr. Adam: I’d like to think that you just took my advice And that’s why you’re not visiting your brother today. Well… I truly hope you’re fine, Mister Brody. We’ve detected no changes from the patient as usual But I think you’d still want to know Have a good day. :)

He felt his body go cold as the blood drained out of him from the sight of that message. Every single memory of the past months began to play in front of his head like old cinema reels and he was hyper aware of the person who had somehow turned around while he was unaware and slowly wrapped an arm around his chest.

“Aww… I guess our little game of pretend is finally over,” Chase’s breath quickened and he could feel the corners of his sight growing dark while his blood roared in his ears. His shaking body was pulled close against the person who was giggling at his unfortunate state. “It’s almost such a shame… Did you have fun, Chaser? I certainly did.”

Those crooned words were spoken with such relished delight that grew along with the cold numbness that was spreading through his body.

“You were having so much fun too! I think that was the happiest I’ve ever seen you it’s almost pathetic,” Anti hissed the last word in a mixture of horrid amusement and disgust, “you were laughing and smiling so much, so convinced that your precious Jack never left and that your neglectful older brothers was just a phone away. That everything that happened was just a long nightmare.”

And then the shaking stopped and Chase was still… So still that for a brief second, Anti thought he had passed out.

“... up…” Anti arched an eyebrow when he heard Chase mumble something far too low for him to understand.

He leaned over and placed his chin on Chase’s shoulder in a mockery of their previously affectionate gestures.

“Pardon?” He sarcastically asked while he tilted his head closer to the mumbling man’s head as if he was craning his ears to hear a whispered secret. “Gotta pipe up a bit louder there, little brother.”

Despite expecting the possible outburst that would come from the tormented man in his arms, Anti didn’t predict that he would have the energy nor the strength to suddenly grip the wrist of the arm that was wrapped around his chest and manage to take advantage of his surprise to fling it off him and push him down on the bed. Chase swung around and straddled Anti, to slam his fists over and over the demon’s chest.

“Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up!” Chase crouched over the older ego, his blue eyes wide and streaming rivers of tears. His lips were bared into a snarl as he kept hitting Anti’s chest. “Why couldn’t you have just shut your mouth? Why couldn’t you just leave me alone and let me forget this entire thing ever happened? Why? Why?”

Anti didn’t retaliate. He just watched his little brother’s agonized but furious tantrum as he lashed out at him. Those tears fell on Anti’s blank face, sliding down his cheeks, while Chase sobbed on top of him.

Those normally fragile blue eyes blazed with hatred despite the shakiness in that gaze. Yet despite the agony, despite the heartrending loneliness that lurked beneath the mask of anger, Anti could see that the spark that he thought had gone out for a very long time was burning ever brighter than the sun.

A slow smile curled up the corner of his lips as the hits slowly began to lose strength and Chase just hid his face away against his balled up fists while they’re digging into Anti’s chest.

“I hate you… I hate you so much…” Chase hiccuped on a low sob. “Stop it… Stop wearing his face… Stop acting like him to toy with me just to see me react to your bullshit…”

“You’re not Jack. You will never be Jack.” The shattered man gritted out, the tears never ending as he finally collapsed on top of the demon who merely reached up to start playing with his hair.

That familiar tender gesture was just another stab into Chase’s broken heart.

“But you want me to be, don’t you?” Anti whispered the damning truth into existence.

The words had been stolen out of Chase’s throat. He wanted to deny those words with all the vehemence he could muster. He wanted to yell more, scream more but he couldn’t. He couldn’t spit out such a heavy lie.

So instead he obfuscated, avoiding the harsh truth as he always did. He could’ve pushed Anti away, could’ve rolled over to the cold floor to get away from the touch that was making his skin crawl but he didn’t.

“I hate you… I hate you…” Chase continued whispering those words until his throat had grown hoarse and his eyes were swollen shut with how much he had been crying.

Anti never said anything, never moved to do anything other than letting Chase lay on top of him. He continued to treat him carefully as if he was glass that would shatter at the slightest pressure.

…

All these gentleness probably hurt Chase more than if he had laid his knife on him or taunted him with his weakness.

He fell asleep to the feel of those hands gently wiping his tears away.

#jacksepticeye #writersofjack #chase brody #antisepticeye #jack mcloughlin #icarus falls!AU #creepy anti #angst #fluff #soft anti but not really

29 notes · View notes

ravenempress101 · 4 years

Text

~Fellowship with the Lodge~Hiram Hurt Au *Requested* Angst and Fluff

Thank you for requesting Darling thank you for letting me write this for you.this one is angst but fluff lord same i had to make this one i was getting desperate but i hope you love it

Definitely request some more!

Hiram lodge walks in with his unbutton white silk puffy shirt. Y/n looks up from her crossword puzzle and scans Hiram holding up 2 brown bags at yourself. He smiles at her, placing them on the glass table in front of the black couch you're sitting on. Y/n placed her crossword on the table and attacks the brown bags opening them and claps her hands together grinning at the white boxes with a japanese symbol on them

“Yay Chinese thank you mr.lodge”

Y/n cheering as she seized one of the boxes out of the bag. unfastening it to appear Kung pao chicken. As she grabbed the chop sticks. She sets them up in her hands and begins to capture one of the pieces of food and apprends it in her mouth.

“Princesa you're always welcome and it’s hiram” hiram grabbing a box of rice and chopsticks and strutting toward his big office desk. Y/n and him were having company between each other just talking about everything and anything while he does work for the jail. Lucky you haven’t gone there yet since you have arrived at riverdale among some charges that were placed on you.

“Yes mr.lo…. I mean hiram sorry i know i get ahead of myself sometimes” y/n smiles capturing a piece of chicken and stuffing her face.y/n glanced at hiram and down back at her food smirking.hiram glimpse back and a laugh escapes his lips. He loved that you could express yourself to a man that hid his darkest secrets. A man that was always feared but y/n took the fire and never got burned.

“Well I’m glad you are here keeping me company”

Hiram took his daze off y/n and looked right back toward the computer screen reading as he was captured with his paperwork scanning over the words he grabbed his bottle of Jack Daniels and a glass with a single ice cube and started pouring the raven liquid in the glass. When he was done emerging it in his glass. The air filled with brown liquid spilling on the floor followed by shards of glass. Then the painting on the wall of a “woman dressed in black” the woman was now wearing a gaping hole in her dress.

“Oh my god what was that”

Y/n threw her food on the ground as a silver bullet went gliding into the pillow of the couch and feathers fell in the air and on the floor. Y/n let out a high pitched scream and dived on the floor to escape the round of bullets that were making their way in the room that y/n and Hiram were in.

He loosen his shoulders and stood up from his desk being unphased at the bullets. He fixed his tie and then he commanded yourself

“stay here and don’t get up”

Y/n nodded at him and stayed on the floor as she lodge. Y/n started hearing pounds of footsteps on the marble floor. Then y/n was streaming from her spot. The person had her by her foot. Y/n tears welled up in her orbs attempt to place her fingers on the floor trying to stop the sliding, But the person has gotten yourself by your foot to meet with him by placing his hands around your throat and slightly grasping your neck. Restricting the airway to breathe.

“Hello love where did the so called daddy go”

When y/n comes into contact with the person that had a hold on her, y/n eyes soften and her mouth falls open in shock. Staring at the chocolate orbs furrowed eyebrows. Jaw clenched revealing a vein. His hair all messy and wet form the sweat flaring up on his forehead. y/n knew she was in for it when they both were going home.

Your soon to be crazy ex demanded y/n was choking as he raised yourself higher in the air. y/n feeling his ring index finger pinch her throat. Y/n squirm in his grasp grabbing at his muscular arm. Y/n thought this was the end until sweet pea let go and yourself collided on the floor. Y/n captured her neck and her breathing was gaining life back. Her chest rising and falling rapidly. Y/n spilt out tiny coughs and view at the greaser.y/n said in between coughs blinking back tears that were forming.

“Sweet pea, baby don't do this your gonna get me fired”

“Well that would be wonderful so he won't look at you anymore”

Sweet pea smirked at yourself and squinted evilly at yourself. Y/n laying hopeless on the ground. Y/n threw her body on her stomach. Trying to claw back at him to trip him. Her body is becoming weak with every move she makes. Sweet pea strutted petite inches away from yourself when you were close. Smirking at the agony he placed on yourself. Your hand was red and it was getting puffy as y/n kept digging her painted nails in the marble floor constructing your way to him.

“Awee hun come here to me cmon”

Sweet pea taunting towards yourself as he took his pistol out of his pocket and cocked his gun while aiming right at your puffy bloody hand. Y/n viewed him, tears welling up in your eyes at the person she loved so much, going insane for his love that he always enforced then y/n began to scream.

“Help hiram help”

As sweet pea pulled the trigger of the gun. The bullet flew toward the marble floor and bounced off onto one of the lights as the bulb broke in front of yourself. Piercing the rough skin of your palms. Whining in agony Hiram ran toward yourself and saw sweet pea holding the gun at her about to take another shot but then Hiram tackled the man. They both collided with the floor. sweet pea dropped the gun, turning himself and Hiram. Sweet pea was on top of hiram. He towered over him Throwing a left hook colliding with his jaw. Hiram’s face flared up with blue and purple marks as his head went toward the other side. Hearing Hiram winces broke your heart. Sweet pea toss the punches broke your soul.

“Please stop please you’re going to kill him”

Hiram heard your screams and threw a right blow at his side. Sweet pea’s body flew to the other side and onto the floor rolling off of hiram as Sweet pea's frame goes limp laying on the floor knocked cold. Then Hiram slowly stood up from the ground. Coming towards yourself making sure you were safe. He seized your arm lifting you from off the floor. Y/n stood up but when she was about to lean into Hiram,

“No hiram he’s about to”

Y/n saw the dark figure hold his hands up with a figurine and strike Hiram over the head with it and He collided with the floor holding his head that was dripping with blood. Then sweet pea repeatedly started kicking Hiram. He kicked his diaphragm.his breathing hitching with every impact. The kicks have gotten harder and quicker.

“See y/n this is what you brought upon yourself”

Next y/n stagger over to the side table.becoming silent, sneaking over towards her object she needed to obtain.The erupted sound of punches being thrown in the air. y/n reaches in the drawer and pulls out a pocket knife. When y/n limps quietly behind a angry sweet pea.

“This is gonna hurt me more than it's going to hurt you”

She raises her arms above her head and lunges the pocket knife into his back. The greaser winces and stops kicking Hiram. Sweet pea falls to the floor and stiffens under the impact. Red droplets begans spilling out his mouth.He lays there, a pool of blood starts forming.

Y/n reaches for hiram. Pulling him up and throwing his arm over y/ns neck as they both stagger to the grey chair in front of the red and orange amber burning over the fireplace.

“Lord he put up a fight” Hiram wincing while holding his bruised rib cage. He laid in the chair. His heavy inhale and exhale trying to ease the pain. Y/n scanned over Hiram and held her hands to his blue and red face.y/n whispering to hiram

“Hiram omg your all bruised up”

Y/n running her hands over him. Y/n feeling all the cuts and bruises that were forming. Why did her crazy ex have to ruin such a goodnight for both of them. He was just focusing on business and y/n was just there taking care of his house and what needed to be taken care of. Y/n couldn’t deal with seeing Hiram mutilated so badly. It broke her heart scanning his handsome face covered all in wombs.

“Get me the inseptic”

Hiram said while tilting his head toward the direction toward the first aid kit. Y/n got it and came back over to him and opened the med kit and then she brought out the alcohol bottle with a white towel.y/n poured the clear liquid on the towel. Then placed it on Hiram’s bloody lip. He watched your every movement like a hawk.

“Hiram im so sorry i know i’m fired i cant believe… i just can’t”

Hiram cut in your babbling and boomed toward yourself and grabbed your soft hands running velvety circles on the palms calming your ranting.

“Is that why you come in with bruises hun, you could’ve told me what he has done”

Y/n started back patting the bloody bottom lip. Cleaning the remaining blood that was left. Hiram stared at your concerning face.while tears streamed down her cheeks y/n said without remorse

“I was scared and alone to talk to anyone hiram he just started doing this’

‘When i just hired you?’

Hiram asking yourself with a side eye.

Y/n started to break down while whipping her stained filled cheeks while scanning at all the damage sweet pea as done to his demeanor. y/n was so hurt from all this seeing hiram struggle for his inhales was her biggest fear.

“Yes, I can’t believe he did this he’s insane’

y/n guiding the rag over his puffy cheek. Dabbing gently at the blood that covered the rag. Y/n was moving toward his sharp jawline. Y/n couldn’t help but admire how he was authorizing yourself to clean himself up.hiram began to say

“He isn't insane anymore’ scanning at a lifeless shell in his studies. He was gonna have to bury him sooner or later with the help of yourself. Y/n began to trail down his neck getting hypnotised in his caramel skin. Y/n swab and added medicine on his neck while placing a small bandage on the bruise and then y/n started unbuttoning half of his shirt and seeing his exposed rib cage and his caramel chiseled chest.

“You know you can tell me everything and anything, i'm here to protect you princesa”

Hiram knocking you back to reality. Her face forming a grin fragile at the statement of reassurance.y/n nodded as she started applying gauze to his rib cage. Tapping the womb making sure the gauze covers the mess that was made on him. Then y/n starred right back up at hiram

“Thank you for that I promise I’ll repay you”

y/n said while standing up and placing the med kit back where it was. Hiram found his strength as the powerful man he is patted his lap for an invite for her to sit upon. Y’n took the offer and sat on his lap. Hiram sneaked your arms around yourself. Engulfing yourself in a hug and began to whisper

“Hey you are by cleaning these wombs and being here with me”

Hiram whispered toward yourself. As y/n felt the warmth of the fire that burn and hiram's muscular popping vein arms hug your frame he placed a small peck on the back of shoulder feeling his bruised kiss lingered as y/n laid her head on his board shoulder staring at the open flames that appear Y/n felt a wave of safety and reassurance take a hold on your insanity by a man that was no longer feared .

9 notes · View notes

squirrel-moose-winchester · 5 years

Text

Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner

Title: Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1686

Summary: It’s Dean’s 40th birthday and Y/N surprises him with multiple presents.

Warning: SMUT (18+ ONLY), Oral (male and female receiving), Explicit Language, and Fluff.

A/N: It’s still Dean’s Birthday in Hawaii, so it’s not too late to post this fic for our favorite green-eyed hunter. In celebration of Dean hitting 40 in the life where tomorrow is never guaranteed, I decided to write this smut piece for him. Last year it was full of fluff, now this year it’s full of smut. Hope you guys enjoy! Happy Reading!

Happy Birthday Dean Winchester!

Disclaimer: Gif not mine.

Today was a special day. It was a certain green-eyed hunter’s birthday. Fortieth Birthday to be exact, and the man only seemed to get sexier with time. Hell, he was better than fine wine. And to prove to him how happy you were to have him in your life, you decided to give him a little good morning birthday present.

It was eight in the morning and Dean was still fast asleep as usual. The man was never an early riser if he didn’t need to. You admired his peaceful state, taking in how his lashes kissed his star-dusted cheeks, how his slightly crooked nose lead to plump pink lips, and not to mention the stubble around his jaw that was scrapping between your thighs just last night.

God, you loved this man.

Placing a soft kiss on his lips, Dean didn’t budge. That was your sign to head down south. With a small grin playing on your lips, you ducked under the sheets where Dean’s very naked body awaited you. Clamping down on your bottom lip, you allowed your greedy eyes to rake over his wide and muscled chest. Next, you traveled down his torso, counting each brick of muscle down to his hips, and further south to his naked cock.

He was already hard, patiently waiting for your lips to wrap itself around him. To pay some much appreciated attention to him.

Pressing your nose lightly to his magnificent rod, you inhaled his musky scent, sighing in utter bliss. Dean’s cock was the best your ever had, and you were willing to fight anyone who denied your claim. He fit perfect in your tight little pussy, stretching you in all the right ways, and reaching all the right spots – and then some.

Starting at the base of his delicious length, you stuck the tip of your tongue out passed your lips, leaving a liquid trail as you followed the line of the thick vein under his shaft, all the way to the tip. You felt his body twitch at the action, but it wasn’t enough to stir him awake.

Sliding your lips around the head, you began to suck on the head, swirling your tongue around and between his slit. When you heard him grunt, you took more of his length into your hot salivating mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked him over and over, taking more of him each time.

It wasn’t until you had him buried in your throat that he woke up completely, his body jolting from your eager effort. He tore the sheet off of you and his body, letting the while cotton pool at the side of the bed. His eyes were blow black with lust as he watched you devour his steel length.

“Fuck!” he groaned, dragging out the word as he dropped his head back onto the pillow, fists clenching the sheets beside his waist.

You hummed in appreciation, loving the taste of him and enjoying all the pretty little sounds he was making.

“Shit, baby, your mouth is so good,” Dean drawled, complimenting your efforts.

His hips jolted upwards when you pressed your lips down, as far as you could go, your nose flush against his skin. It was then that his hands found your hair, grasping your locks in a makeshift ponytail. He took control, bobbing your head and thrusting his hips. You let your jaw go slack to make things flow easier, allowing him to fuck your throat as he wished.

Your saliva was thick around his shaft as he choked you with it, but you did your best to breath as he thrusted into your mouth. Tears were streaming down your eyes, and you knew your face was red, but it was all part of the pleasure. You loved it when he used you like this. Used your mouth to make himself come.

His hips were suddenly thrusting sloppily passed your lips and with one final deep trust, he was spilling his seed directly down your throat. Just the sound of his carnal release was enough to have your pussy clenching around nothing, the vibrations tingling your heated skin.

When Dean pulled you off of him, he dragged you up his body and kissed your swollen lips, sticking his tongue in your hot cavern and tasting himself, leaving no space untouched. The kiss left your breathless and it was you who broke first, gasping for air.

“Happy Birthday, baby,” you managed to say between breaths, a satisfied smirk on your lips.

“Shit. That was the best birthday gift ever!”

You leaned in and captured his lips with yours once more with passion, letting him understand how much you loved him, before pulling away to whisper in his ear… “and there’s more.”

As Dean groaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your promise, you peeled yourself away from him, throwing on one of his shirts and letting it drape down just a few inches above your knees. Not even bothering to put on panties, you winked and walked out the door.

“Fuck,” Dean shuddered, quickly throwing on a pair of sweats before following you out.

By the time lunch came, Sam, Jack, and Castiel still weren’t back from their trip to do some errands. Without Dean knowing, they were actually out preparing and collecting all of Dean’s favorite foods for dinner. And with the bunker empty, aside from you and Dean, you decided to make use of the opportunity.

When it came to Dean, he was like clock work. Every twelve-thirty, he came marching into the kitchen for something to eat, but you figured you’d prepare him something special. And when he walked through the kitchen entrance, he paused, eyes widening with the sight he was greeted with.

There you were, perched on the counter, legs bend on the table, pussy bare and spread all for him. Beside you was a sandwich and a cold bottle of beer, but he didn’t even notice the mean, too distracted and transfixed by the sight of your beautiful, pink, cunt.

“Hungry?” You asked, biting your bottom lip, your voice dropping a few octaves.

“Best birthday ever,” he drawled, charging towards you with minimal steps, and instantly he was on his knees, his lips latching onto your thirsty heat.

You squeaked at his primal fervor, the hunter not even bothering to take it slow. He merely jumped right in. With how ‘hungry’ he was, it didn’t take long for the heat to explode through your body and the liquid fire to boil your blood.

“S-slow down!” you squealed, your words hardly coherent.

You could hardly breath, completely strung out. Despite all your squirming, he managed to keep you steady, his skillful tongue working wonders over your throbbing clit and clenching walls.

“I can’t stop – taste too good,” he mumbled against your pussy, the vibration only adding to the pleasure.

“FUCK!” you screamed, your voice echoing through the bunker.

With his lips wrapped around your clit, suctioning hard and using his teeth to tease the sensitive numb, you fell apart on his mouth. Body trembling violently as your voice fell silent, your lips slacked open in a silent ‘O’.

Dean pulled away, watching you with complete satisfaction. He loved to see what he could do to you with just his mouth. After a few seconds your body still shook with the aftershock of his oral escapades. He stood between your legs, pulling you to his chest, whispering words to help relax you, as you continued to twitch, pussy pulsating.

When you finally calmed, you gained your breathing back, lungs full of air with every breath. “Shit,” you gasped, locking your eyes with his mossy orbs.

“Fuck, you looked beautiful shaking like that. All that from just my mouth.” Dean’s breath was deep and shaky. “I should do it more often.”

That was a promise he planned to keep.

Dinner was a success! Dean was overjoyed to see all his favorites displayed across the kitchen table. Pizza, burgers, steak, pie, and so much more. In that moment, he couldn’t help but think how’d he gotten so lucky? He had his mom, brother, Cass, Jack, Bobby, and you by his side. Even got a call from Garth, Jody and the girls, and Donna.

It almost felt like everything was normal. Like they weren’t hunters. Like their lives weren’t in danger. It was awesome.

After dinner however, you had one more surprise for him. As he got out of the shower and slipped into your shared bedroom, he stumbled backwards from the beautiful sight he was welcomed with. It was just you. You lying on his bed with nothing but a smile on.

“Shit,” he breathed, “if I die, it’ll be because of you,” he finished.

You giggled at his remark, thrilled to have that effect on him. “What’s with the pants?” you asked, pointing to his sweatpants that hung teasingly low on his hips. “It’s still your birthday so why aren’t you in your birthday suit?”

Dean couldn’t help but laugh, while you had a wide smile on your face.

“How can you do that?” He asked with wonder.

“Do what?” You sat up, folding your legs under you and straightening your back, your breasts on full display.

Dean cleared his throat before proceeding to explain what he meant. “How can you be such a dork, but still be sexy as hell?”

His words caught you off guard. To be honest, you never felt sexy until you met Dean. Until he made you believe that you were this untouchable goddess. He made you into the person you are today. He made you strong, beautiful, and sexy, all the while enabling you to be yourself.

“Because of you,” was your reply.

“I’m not following, Sweetheart,” he grinned.

“Because you love me for who I am, that’s why. Now get over here and fuck me silly.”

Dean didn’t have to be told twice, shimmying out of his sweats and pouncing on top of you, spending the rest of the remaining hours of his birthday well into the next day.

Say Something Nice Here!

Dirty Sluts Tag: @whimsicalrobots @waywardbaby @grace-for-sale @mogaruke @puff1408 @akshi8278 @wonderfulwinchestersmut @sarkina @theangelkrysta @salt-n-burn-em-all @waywardlodging @esoltis280 @babypieandwhiskey @msimpala67 @amanda-teaches @waywardnerd67 @emoryhemsworth @so-get--this @caitthejourno @shaelyn102 @weewoop0875 @natasha-baggins @tootiredtosleepposts @superlightalternateuniverse88 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @atc74 @herbologystudent252 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @heyitscam99 @spookygibson @writevanna @curly-haired-disaster @humanexile @wingedcatninja @dreamilysparklyenthusiast @depressed-moose-78 @maui137 @raelady1184 @shikaros-blog @holyfuckloueh @supernatural-jackles @cyrilconnelly @pisces-cutie @srsllydunnodoncare @dean-winchesters-bacon @roonyxx @stusbunker @adoptdontshoppets @supernaturalmagicfolk @spnbaby-67 @dolphincliffs @thisismysecrethappyplace

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #Happy Birthday Dean Winchester #40 #Dean's 40th Birthday #dean winchester smut #18+ Only #dean winchester #reader insert #supernatural #spn #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester oneshot #Breakfast Lunch and Dinner #squirrel-moose-winchester

118 notes · View notes

forthelulzy · 5 years

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2 Rating: Teen Warnings: Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: John Marston & Arthur Morgan (platonic) Characters: John Marston, Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith, Sadie Adler, Jack Marston, Abigail Roberts Marston, Uncle, Sean MacGuire, Kieran Duffy, Leonard "Lenny" Summers, Hosea Matthews, Molly O'Shea, Susan Grimshaw, Micah Bell, Dutch van der Linde, Edgar Ross, Archer Fordham Additional Tags: Bittersweet, Ghosts, Reincarnation, Spirit Animals, Guardian Angels, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Epilogue, Angst, Canonical Character Death, everyone deserved better, except micah, Spoilers Wordcount: 3842

John’s a little more prepared for the bear he spots on the edge of the grounds in the dusk, lumbering through the trees with a crow clinging to its back. The crow caws softly when it sees him, and the bear turns and stops, as if John is the ghost.

The long-dead members of the Van der Linde Gang come to call at Beecher's Hope. Set during the Epilogue, spoilers abound.

John’s sound asleep in his bed at Beecher’s Hope when the familiar sound of a woodpecker wakes him. He wouldn’t care, normally, pull the pillow over his head and try to sleep through it, but it’s the middle of the night and the sound is far too close. Is the damn thing pecking on the house?

He rolls up, taking his gun with him from under the pillow, and opens the window. The sound stops.

The moon hangs high over the ranch. It’s utterly cloudless, which is unusual. John is about to turn around and go back to a well-earned rest when, on his last look around, he spots the bird — directly above him, staring at him. John doesn’t know woodpeckers but this one looks big, with a wicked beak. The hole it’s pecked is only just visible in the shadow of the eaves.

He tries to shoo it away while it stares at him, but it’s not afraid. After a long time where it just watches him, taunting him, it turns back to its task.

Fine, he thinks. He aims, shoots the thing and pulls back to avoid getting it on his head.

Except no annoying bird corpse drops. There’s just the sound of the bullet hitting wood, a pause, and then hammer of the beak starts up all over again. Did he miss?

He sticks his head back out. The woodpecker is still there, only giving him a glance. The bullethole is above it, on the underside of the eaves, and John wonders how the hell he missed.

“John?” Charles calls, coming around the house with his sawed-off in his hand. “You good?”

“Yeah, just this damn bird,” he says, gesturing.

Charles’ gaze follows his hand and his eyes widen. He stops hard, staring at the woodpecker. “John…?”

“What?”

“Did you try to shoot it?”

“Yeah. Missed.”

Charles slowly takes his eyes off the bird, which continues on its merry way as if it can’t hear them half-yelling over it. He looks… scared? “No, you didn’t. I think that’s…”

“What?”

“Never mind. Go back to sleep, I think he’ll be done soon.”

John does wonder how he could possibly know that, but does as directed with only a passing rude gesture at the woodpecker. He’s not back in bed five minutes, Abigail murmuring sleepily beside him, when the pecking stops.

In the morning he almost forgets about the events of the night, but Charles takes him by the elbow after breakfast and guides him out of the house and around to outside his own bedroom. In the light of day they’re unmistakable: the initials pecked into the wood between the eaves and the window.

S.M.

A few days later John has almost gotten over it. He’s outside with Jack, leaning on the fence and watching the sun rise over the field where the horses roam. It rained overnight, and he has to peer through the thick mist over the grass to spot the one thing out of place.

It’s a horse, but it’s not one of theirs.

It emerges from the mist like a specter, walking steadily toward them. Spindly, no, emaciated, with a gray coat and black mane and tail, and white spots like a sleeping-mask over its eyes. Their horses balk at its presence, whinnying nervously and high-stepping to the far end of the field, but it walks on, only glancing at the herd before those soulful eyes return to Jack, clinging to the fence.

His son gasps as the horse reaches them and leans its long head down to gently press against his chest. This close, John can now see the thin white stripe looping around its neck.

“Pa,” Jack whispers, carefully reaching up to pat it, “Pa, can horses have green eyes?”

When he speaks, his voice is foreign to his own ears. “That’s not a horse.”

Jack turns his head, startled, and the not-horse spooks, dancing back a few feet. Large eyes — and they are very green — watch John with fear and a bone-deep weariness.

“Then…?” Jack starts, but he trails off, sucking in a sharp breath. He knows, and John knows now, too.

The ghost given horse-shape bows his head, an apology, a surrender, and in the next instant the sun crests the horizon fully, light spilling over the fields and banishing the mists, and he is gone as quickly as he appeared.

For a while they stare at each other, then the crow takes to the skies, soaring overhead and leaving them alone. John can’t take his eyes off the bear; his heart thuds painfully in his chest, which just won’t expand no matter how hard he tries to breathe. It’s him. It’s his father.

It’s impossible, but so was getting out of the life back then.

“Hosea?” he croaks.

The bear snuffles, taking a step closer, then another. John wants to run to him, but his feet are rooted to the earth, and instead he falls to his knees in a heap, a cloud of dust puffing up around him.

Then Hosea is there, right there, as real and warm as anything, coarse gone-gray fur held tight in John’s fists but he doesn’t even flinch, just patiently stands still while John buries his face in his neck and sobs.

It’s too soon, not nearly enough time, when someone shouts, and the shotgun blast has Hosea pulling away and running back into the trees. He disappears into the darkness.

“John, John what the fuck—” It’s Sadie, still holding her gun in one hand and hauling him up with the other, checking him over like she isn’t sure whether to kill him or kiss him for being alive and unharmed. “What the ever-loving hell— did I fucking miss—”

“Hosea,” is all he gets out.

“—I was aiming right at its head— What?”

He raises his face, blinking the film of tears away, and gives her a long look before turning around and stumbling back toward the house. The crow caws morosely from the roof, silhouetted by the moon.

A week passes, then another, and no more strange animals turn up. John cannot seem to rest, his dreams filled with corpses. Sean, thrown over the back of Bill’s horse like a deer, the right side of his head blown off. Kieran’s last ride. Hosea’s disbelief in the seconds before he turned around, and Lenny, whose death he never saw and would never understand.

“Hey, what’s that?” Uncle’s voice, rough from sleep and slurred from drink, startles John from his half-doze on the porch. He’d just closed his eyes for a second, but that was enough to conjure a hallucination of… of himself, covered in blood.

He can’t stop the shudder that seizes him, and looks to Uncle for a distraction. Follows the point of the other man’s finger.

Something small and red disappears around the corner of the barn.

“Fox,” John grumbles. It’s broad daylight so he’s not too concerned about it, but he gets up anyway. Barely has he stood when the thing peeks back around the barn, yips at him, and is out of sight once more. Teasing him. Almost like…

He half-runs for the barn, skidding around the corner and nearly running over the fox. Up close it’s a darker red than others of its kind, the exact shade of Molly’s hair. The normally pure white chin, cheeks and throat are speckled, like freckles. It — she — yips at him, turning in circles before sitting down and staring at him expectantly.

“Molly O’Shea?” he asks, to be sure.

She yips again, tongue darting out, and stands, turning away. She looks off toward the trees for a long moment, her demeanor turning… sad.

John waits, though he isn’t sure what he’s waiting for. Isn’t sure until the distant howl of a coyote has Molly’s ears perking forward. She glances at John sidelong, bobs her head, and lopes for the trees, lost in the underbrush within moments.

When he returns to Uncle, the older man is, oddly enough, wide awake. “What was it?” he asks.

“Just a fox,” John lies.

Much as he wants to wait around the ranch for the other ghosts — or one in particular — he does feel silly enough about it to not say anything when Abigail insists. So it is that he’s coming back from a trip into Blackwater when she meets him on the road. He jumps when he sees her there, wringing her hands, and his only thought is Jack.

He’s right, but not in the way he thinks. She shakes her head when he asks, voice cracking, then clarifies just as his heart starts beating again. “There’s… you’d best see for yourself. It won’t leave him alone.”

He’s panicked enough to forget the ghosts, spurring Rachel past Abigail and on to the ranch proper. No one else is around, but on a hunch he heads for the house. A yowl pierces the air just as he reaches the hitching post, like an angry cougar, and it’s coming from inside the house.

Bursting through the front door with his gun in hand, he’s not sure what he’ll do if it is a cougar, other than protect his boy.

It isn’t a cougar. It’s a cat, a big cat but still a cat, sitting outside Jack’s bedroom door with its fluffy tail swishing at the floor. It fixes blue eyes on John and gives another, quieter yowl. It’s… tortoiseshell, he thinks the word is, with tufts of hair on its ears and long, glossy fur.

“Leave him alone, Grimshaw,” John groans, holstering his gun. “He’s still a kid.” The same age John himself was when Dutch saved him from a hanging, but he will give his son a better life if it kills him.

The cat stares at him, tail swishing in agitation.

“Grimshaw?” Abigail asks, coming into the house behind him.

John sighs, rubs his temples to stave off the swift-approaching headache. “I’ll explain, but I’d rather only do this once. Come on out, Jack, I won’t let her bully you.”

They convene in the main room, with the ghost — reincarnation? — of Susan Grimshaw perched atop the table by the window. She looks out the pane, seemingly unconcerned with John giving his best explanation of the past month’s strange events, with each of his audience nodding along, some more skeptical than others. Charles believes even more than John does, while Sadie, true to her nature, isn’t having any of it. She insists Hosea was just a fed bear that would’ve turned when it realized John had no food, if she hadn’t shot at it. “And this— this is just a cat!”

Grimshaw turns to stare at Sadie then, unblinking. Sadie makes a face.

“All right then,” John says. “Hey, ‘just a cat’, did Micah kill you at Beaver Hollow years ago?”

Slow blink, then an unmistakable nod. Uncle whistles low.

“This is stupid,” Sadie says, but even she is shaken. “You were the only one of us who was actually there.”

John looks to Grimshaw, who turns her back on them, toward the window. Like she’s looking for something.

“I believe it,” Jack says quietly. “Kieran, he— he was saying sorry.”

Grimshaw startles, at if she’d forgotten the boy was there, and jumps down from her perch. She nudges Jack in the shoulder, and he gently runs a hand down her back. She arches, purring, then nudges him again.

“What is she trying to say?” Abigail asks.

Jack blushes. “I think— I think she wants me to wash up.”

John is forcibly reminded of Grimshaw dragging him to the water barrel many times at camp. Arthur too, when he’d come back to them after running himself ragged.

Arthur.

“Miss Grimshaw,” he says, and the cat pauses where she’d been tailing Jack and Abigail to the bath. “Is there anyone else coming?”

She looks back at him, cocks her head to the side. Slow blinks. But she doesn’t indicate yes or no that he can tell, and disappears into the other room, leaving his heart heavy.

He should know better than to expect Arthur, whatever he is, to come after Grimshaw’s non-answer, but it still hits him hard when days turn into weeks, then another month has gone by without a visit from the brother who saved him.

It has been so long, and he has tried so hard to forget. Why come now? Why did any of them come now?

He gets his answer when Sadie comes, a fire in her eyes, and talks of Micah and revenge. He has to do it, for Arthur. Arthur never stood on revenge, had made his opinions on it clear, but this is John doing it for Arthur, and he can’t let it go. Can’t let it go though Abigail begs him. This is Micah, finally making a mistake.

This is Micah, finally going to pay.

Grimshaw’s sitting on their bed, gives him a slow blink when he runs in to grab the guns from the trunk. Sean’s on the pasture fence, Kieran standing next to him. Molly runs alongside them for a few seconds just after they cross the Montana River, yipping. And as they leave Strawberry, Cleet dangling dead behind, Lenny flies overhead, straight and unerring.

There’s no sign of Hosea, though, all the way up the mountain. Then John’s a bit more preoccupied with shooting than wondering if the dead man approves.

He’s not surprised, exactly, when Dutch interrupts his and Sadie’s revenge. Less surprised when Dutch greets him with a condescending “Hello, son,” and downright saw Micah turning the tables on Sadie coming. The best he can do is hope to get through to Dutch, hope that somewhere under the frayed mind and paranoid delusions that there’s some bit of his old self left. Micah keeps talking, though, offering a place with them, as if he would fall for something like that even if he didn’t have Abigail and Jack.

But if the rat wasn’t running his mouth, it’d be a cold day in hell, so he keeps his cool as best he can and talks mostly to Dutch.

“—say something,” he begs, when Dutch’s cold eyes have bored into him too long.

Micah laughs, high-pitched and triumphant. Sadie makes an anguished noise, struggling against him while blood drips to the cold ground.

Micah laughs, until he isn’t laughing anymore. He’s staring at a spot over John’s shoulder, mouth hanging open. “What the fuck—”

“Son—” Dutch finally says, warning shout dying on his lips. John doesn’t, can’t take his eyes off the guns currently pointed at him, though Dutch’s is wavering.

He hears snuffling, feels Hosea’s presence at his back, and then his side.

“You have a bear?!” Micah screams.

John ignores him. “Hosea, what’re you doin' here?” he asks out the side of his mouth, though he knows Hosea can’t answer.

The look on Dutch’s face would be comical under any other circumstance. In one smooth movement his other arm comes up and Micah collapses, a bullet through his head. Sadie falls, breathing harsh but steady.

Dutch stares at Hosea, wonder coming over his face. Hosea takes a step forward, snuffling hard, smelling the air.

“It can’t be…” Dutch breathes, guns slipping from his fingers.

“It is.” He holsters his own pistol. “I’ve had all of them visit me. Sean, Kieran, Lenny, Miss Grimshaw. Even Molly.”

If he had thought a mention of Dutch’s old flame would startle the man, he would be sorely disappointed now. Dutch, still with that fragile wonder, doesn’t so much as blink. “And— and Arthur?”

John doesn’t answer, walking around behind Hosea to crouch by Sadie’s side. She’ll be okay, he thinks — but she does need a doctor just in case. “Thank you, Dutch,” he says. “I hope— I hope we don’t meet again, for everyone’s sakes.”

“You…” Dutch whispers, and John turns around. He’s come closer to Hosea while his back was turned, reaching out with trembling fingers. Hosea had sad eyes, even in life, but now their sorrow is enough to drown in.

The instant Dutch’s glove brushes his forehead, the ghost fades away, and there is no trace he was ever there at all, not even footprints. Dutch’s breath hitches, then comes out in a great puff in the freezing mountain air. He stumbles away without a word, head down, and disappears down the other trail.

John watches him go.

“Farewell, and happy matrimony!”

Their little family waves the officiant goodbye as he sets the wagon going and rolls off. John feels lighter than he has in a long time, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a little boy. They have the Blackwater money, they have their new lives, they have each other. Abigail is more beautiful than ever in her wedding gown. He picks her up and twirls her around, carrying her into the house while Sadie and Charles clap and Uncle wolf-whistles.

Life settles into a kind of bliss, an almost boring bliss but there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. Charles leaves, then Sadie; north and south to lives of their own. Jack hits another growth spurt and John will never again wonder at his parentage; they look too much alike. They raise their horses and goats and chickens, and John teaches Jack while learning himself how to ranch.

With Micah a frozen corpse, the ghosts’ business seems done, and he doesn’t see his animal visitors again. Sometimes, just before falling asleep, he’ll think of Arthur, but these thoughts intrude less and less as time rolls on. It’s over, as he told Abigail. Well and truly done.

Until it isn’t.

They come in the pre-dawn dim a year to the day after Micah’s death. John recognizes Agent Ross immediately, but the man beside him is new.

“What do you want?” he calls, much steadier than he feels. He knows already. He knows; they can’t leave well enough alone.

But he stands guard on the porch anyway, between his family and the Pinkertons — wait, who’s funding them now? — though he knows it’s futile. They’ve been found. And all he’s worked for is about to come crashing down.

“Good morning, Mr. Marston,” Ross answers, a mocking lilt to his voice. “I’m afraid your stunt on Mount Hagen has attracted some attention.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” How the hell did they trace that back to him? Back here?

Fucking Micah. Even in death.

“You know very well, Mr. Marston. The Bureau of—”

He’s cut off by an inhuman bellow-scream, like a dying deer, and the biggest stag John’s ever seen leaps the pasture fence and charges toward them, skidding to a stop in front of the agents. Sides heaving, crown of antlers lowered, long legs pawing the dirt, he stands between them and John, as tall as their horses.

Their mounts’ eyes roll back and they buck their riders off, the agents landing hard in the dust. Ross’ foot is caught in his stirrup, and he’s dragged a few feet by his fleeing horse before he manages to untangle himself.

John can’t breathe. He grabs onto the porch railing, anything to steady himself, fumbling with his gun but his palms are sweaty — this can’t be real—

The stag snorts, head lowering further as he approaches Ross. The agent recovers fast. He snatches his revolver from its holster, and fires two shots in quick succession.

A hysterical laugh bubbles up from John’s throat at the flabbergasted look on Ross’ face when the bullets pass straight through and keep going, puffing into the dirt hillside. The stag blinks slowly, unperturbed.

“You can’t kill a dead man, Ross!” John manages to get out through his giggles.

Arthur Morgan — his savior, in life and in death — strolls up to the agent, lowers his head, and touches the tip of one magnificent antler to Ross’ forehead. A warning. And those eyes — as blue as ever — the one looking at John winks.

The other agent scrambles up. Arthur’s head tilts, but the man just grabs at Ross’ shoulder and hauls him up, terror stark on his face. “Let’s go,” he urges.

“But—”

“Come on!”

That spurs Ross into action. “Until next time, Mr. Marston,” he says, eyes never leaving the stag. Arthur lowers his head again, toeing the dirt like a bull, and Ross blanches. “Come, Agent Fordham.” He fast-walks for the road and their still-nervous horses. Fordham follows backward after him, holding his gun like it could actually protect him if Arthur decided to charge. Within minutes they’re gone, and John is slowly coming down from his mood whiplash.

“Boy am I glad to see you,” he says quietly. Arthur twitches an ear toward him, but doesn’t turn.

“Are they gone?” Abigail cracks open the door. Then Jack squeezes around her, flying down the steps with a cry of, “Uncle Arthur!”

The stag flinches, but turns then, letting the boy reach up and put his arms around his neck. Gently, slowly, he drops to a kneel, then lays down, letting Jack bury himself against him — like John had done with Hosea over a year ago — and cry.

Abigail comes outside and puts her hand on his back, supporting him with her quiet strength. “Go on, John,” she says after a while of just standing there, watching their son and his uncle. There’s a sad smile on her face. “You need this.”

John swallows, drifts closer. Jack’s cried himself out, and lifts his face, nodding. He returns to his mother, and John lowers himself to sit in the spot he’d been. The house door opens and shuts, and then it’s just the two of them, looking out over the ranch. Brothers.

“I missed you,” he whispers, voice cracking, finally reaching up to stroke Arthur’s flank.

Arthur lets out a deep breath, turning to look at him at last.

“I thought you weren’t going to come.”

A huff.

“I know, I was stupid. Like you said, the wolves ate the last of my good sense.”

Arthur lowers his head, watching him through his lashes, but those brilliant blue eyes still strike him with the force of a train. They say, “I forgive you.” They say, “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll be just fine. I reckon you scared ‘em enough to buy us some time.”

Those eyes close, though if it’s in contentment or pain at John’s desperate optimism he doesn’t know. Still, he knows it’s just about time. Arthur’s got to be moving on, same as all of them.

So he leans close and whispers into Arthur’s ear.

“I love you, brother.”

#my writing #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 spoilers #death cw #lulzy writes #remember when I said I had a new obsession with a game I couldn't play #surprise!#holding out hope for a PC port

8 notes · View notes

woildismyerster · 6 years

Note

can i request a modern!race x reader where they’re in the same circle of friends but don’t really talk and end up having a really close flirty friendship that all their friends ship and they end up dating?

Please do!

“Y/N, you know that math isn’t my thing, right?” Davey ignored the packet you held in his face, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Can you help me, or not?”

“Probably,” he sighed. He took the homework and paged through it, absently asking one more question. “Why don’t you ask Race for help?”

“Because I don’t talk much to Race,” you said. “It would be out of nowhere.”

“Friendship usually is.” Davey gave a stumbling explanation of the math concepts, periodically pointing out that if you wanted quality help, you had a friend who could actually provide it.

You knew that Race was a rockstar in his math classes. You knew that he told the best jokes, that he could skateboard like a pro, and that he made a mean grilled cheese. You knew plenty about him, which seemed a little unfair since you could count on one hand the number of times that you had a solo conversation with him.

He was one of the closest friends of all of yours, but the two of you somehow managed to stay out of each other’s orbits. It had been unintentional at first, but after years of ‘you would love him,’ you didn’t seek him out on principle.

If your math grade suffered a little as a result, so be it.

“Oh, thank God.”

Your brow furrowed when the words came from over your shoulder, and it turned to a frown when the owner of the voice sat in the seat next to yours.

“I thought that I wasn’t going to know anybody in my testing room,” Race said. He grinned at you, and the sincerity was heavy. “You have no idea how glad I am that you’re in here.”

“It’s a shame nobody else is here,” you hedged.

“I’d take anybody,” he said. “You’re good enough for me.”

Your lips quirked into a smile. “Not sure you’re good enough for me, but I guess you’ll have to do.”

In all honesty, you would rather have been without him. Even so, the way his jaw dropped made the room a little brighter.

“I am spectacular company,” he said. “You just have bad taste.”

“I have great taste,” you countered. “You just don’t taste good.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he sneered.

Like everybody had told you, Race whizzed through the math portion. He spent his free time angling his four function calculator toward your seat and typing numbers so they spelled out words when he turned it upside down.

You didn’t know why ‘BOOBS’ made you laugh, but you got several dirty looks from your neighbors. Race grinned at you, and you grinned back.

“You know who makes the best notes for presentations? Race. I swear, it’s impossible to be nervous when you read the notes he makes. You should partner with him sometime.”

“You know, maybe I will.”

Katherine had a lot to say about being forced to change into swimsuits in the open on swim days. It would have been more interesting if she didn’t say the same things every week, and if you hadn’t already agreed with it all.

“It’s humiliating,” she reiterated.

“True that.”

“People shouldn’t be afraid to come to school, and I know for a fact that there are teenagers who have crazy anxiety about this.”

“Uh huh,” you said absently.

“What are you looking at?” She followed your gaze to where Race stood by the side of the pool, waiting for his to jump off the diving board. “Oh, I see.”

“I’m just watching the swimmers,” you said innocently.

“You’re sexing Race up with your eyes, Y/N,” Katherine grinned. “I thought you barely tolerated him.”

“We’re friends, now.”

“Mmmhmm.”

You shot her a look. “Friends can look at other friends, Kath. Remember how you used to look at Jack?”

“We make out under the bleachers at football games now.”

“Oh.” You searched for another, more valid example, but fell short. It wasn’t a big deal to like seeing Race in a swimsuit, right? Casual appraisal wasn’t a problem.

Race glanced over at you, taking note of your gaze. He waved, smiling smugly. He repositioned himself like a swimsuit model, looking utterly ridiculous with his miles of arms and legs. He was too lanky for that pose, you told yourself. It looked stupid.

Your suddenly dry mouth said otherwise.

“Oh, indeed,” Katherine said with a cheshire smile.

“Race looked cute today. Right, Y/N?”

“Hmm.”

“That shirt made his eyes pop.”

“Hmm.”

“I didn’t like you much at first, did you know?” You tried to eat the peach in a way that wouldn’t dribble the juices all over yourself, but you were failing miserably. You settled for cupping a hand under your chin to catch them.

“When was that?” Race handed you a napkin, but you waved him off. It was too late for that.

“Like, until state testing.”

His jaw dropped, outraged. “How could you not like me for that long? We were friends for years!”

“Hardly,” you snorted. “We had the same friends. You were just that guy everybody wanted me to talk to. It felt like nagging, so I didn’t want to talk to you at all.”

“And to think,” he groused, “I liked you from the start.”

“You always were a sap.”

He threw his peach pit at you, but your hands were too full to catch it. You let it hit your shoulder, and frowned at the syrupy splotch it left behind.

“I liked you eventually,” you said. “Really, I just had to talk to you.”

“Thanks.”

“It made up for your face.”

You laughed when he jostled your hand, spilling the peach juice on your clothes. You wiped the rest of it down his leg, and he winced for the rest of the day at the stiffness of his leg hair.

(“I’ll have to amputate the leg, Y/N.”

“Take a shower and suck it up.”

“I’d let you suck it up, if you know what I mean.”

“Race, save it for in your dreams.”)

“Wanna hang out later?”

“Can’t. I’m going over to Race’s for a project.”

“Human anatomy?”

“Jesus Christ. English.”

“So,” Albert said. “You and Race, huh?”

“He’s my friend now, yeah.” You bit your lip while you measured out the water for AP Chem, wishing that your partner would pay more attention to the lab than to your relationships.

“Sure seems like more than that.”

“Because we actually talk to each other? Funny how close that makes people.”

Albert huffed out a sigh. “We all told you that you would like each other if you just talked. Now that you have, it’s obvious that you want to date. Just bone, already.”

“Crass,” you commented. He wasn’t totally wrong, of course - Race was overwhelming for your senses. All of you was conscious of all of him, and you had yet to find a solution. “Why do you care?”

“It’s physically painful to watch the two of you. Swimming through Jello would be easier than cutting through that tension.”

You laughed. “Quit being dramatic.”

“I’m not!” Albert took your pencil and poked you in the forehead with your eraser. “Get it through your skull - the two of you will be happier once you make out. Just do it.”

You harrumphed, but silently agreed. You had wasted a lot of time ignoring Race, and it was a mistake. Maybe it would be a mistake to put this off, too.

“Y/N, you seem like the type of person who could make it work with a high school sweetheart.”

“I don’t have one.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“You’re gonna kill your interview,” you said. “No question.”

“No,” Race groaned. “Lots of question. All of the question.”

Race was laying on his bed, and you were sitting on the floor next to it. Minimizing the temptation, maximizing the comforting. Sort of.

“You’ve got this,” you urged. “NYU will be eating out of your hand by the end.”

His face was buried in a pillow, and you half wondered if he had suffocated himself. “Y/N,” he mumbled, “I really, really want to go to this school.”

“And you will. Just be yourself.”

“That’s garbage advice,” he said. He flipped his head to the side and glared at you, but it was halfhearted. “Colleges aren’t looking for all of this.”

‘This’ was accompanied by gesturing at a middle school track t-shirt, athletic shorts, and old man socks pulled all the way up to the knee.

“You’ll be wearing a suit,” you said.

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

You sighed and climbed up onto the bed. You ran your fingers through his curls, and he relaxed a little.

“Race, be yourself. That worked on me, right? You’re the coolest person I know, and you don’t even have to try.”

“I try really, really hard around you,” he said.

You scoffed, and he sat up.

“I’m serious. I was so busy trying to get you to like me that I didn’t even care about how I did on those tests. It was, like, a full time job. I wanted to be my funniest, my smartest, my most interesting. You brought out my superlatives,” he said urgently.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it only grew when Race leveled you with his tired, earnest eyes. “And it worked. You are the funniest, smartest, most interesting person I have ever known. NYU will see the same thing.”

“I hope so,” he sighed.

“Why were you trying so hard to impress me?” You couldn’t look at him when you asked, and he didn’t look at you when he answered.

“I’d only heard good things about you, and I had only seen good things from you. It seemed worth a shot.”

“What were you hoping for?”

“Everything.”

You didn’t know what that meant. You weren’t sure if he was satisfied with what he’d gotten, or if he was waiting for more. You weren’t sure how much more he wanted. That being said, his eyes were very blue, his mouth was turned down with exhaustion, and his hands were playing with a loose thread on your pants.

You wanted everything.

You kissed him, bracing your hands on his knees. He didn’t hesitate before responding, slow and cautious. His hands came up to cup your cheeks, and he sighed into your mouth.

“I wasn’t trying to ask for that,” he said, pecking your lips one more time. His hands stayed on your jaw, brushing along the curve of it like it was something to be studied.

“No,” you agreed. “But I wanted to give it.”

That earned you a half smile, and his eyes were brightening. “I don’t think that’s what I’m aiming for with the interviewer.”

“Do what you have to do, babe.”

He grinned, and he leaned in again.

“You know what I need? Somebody to make out with. Right now.”

“Y/N, you do realize that you don’t need to tell us every time you kiss Race, right? We don’t want to know. We’ve seen too much.”

“You shouldn’t have talked so much about it before, then. You’ve made your bed - it’s time to lie in it. Race, get in here.”

#Newsies #newsies fanfiction #newsies x reader #race/reader #racetrack higgins/reader #racetrack higgins x reader #race higgins #racetrack higgins #Ally writes

247 notes · View notes

erinchu · 6 years

Text

So my darling @ivemcfallenandicantgetup asked for cuddling rhack and here they are <3.

“Maybe angry Jack just fired someone but comes home to find Rhys crying at a shitty chick flick so needs to help him be okay”

I hope you like it bby ;~; ily x

It had been an excruciatingly long day and Handsome Jack could not fucking wait to be home. The CEO let out a tired sigh as he pressed the elevator button that would take him up to his penthouse. Even though it was in the Hyperion building, today it felt like it took ages to get home. Jack’s feet drug lazily beneath him as he approached his front door and his frustration grew when he couldn't find his keys right away. He felt the anger boiling up inside of him and it was about to spill over when he stopped and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. He didn’t want to bring his work day rage home with him, not to Rhys. So he stood there for a few moments, gathering himself and trying to calm his temper the best he could.

Earlier in the day, it had been revealed to him by his security chief that they had come across an employee who was selling Hyperion secrets to rival companies. It had pissed Jack off something fierce. How could something like that happen, right under his nose? To make matters worse, all Jack had wanted to do with the guy was throw him out of an air lock, but he had promised Rhys he would cool it a bit on the whole killing people thing and so instead, threw him in jail. Traitors like that didn’t deserve a second chance in Jack’s eyes and he was still pouting over the fact that he had let the guy live. Geez, where was anyone's loyalty anymore? Standing out in the hallway, brooding over it wasn’t making Jack feel any better, that heated anger was building again and he decided to just go in.

Jack quietly opened the front door and swept inside, trying to keep the noise down in case Rhys was asleep already. He hadn’t realized how late it was, nearly two in the morning by this time. It was a lot more paperwork to jail someone than to just kill them it seemed. He let his work bag and jacket slide from him and dropped them both to the ground, not really caring about either at this point. Jack’s brows furrowed slowly as he walked further into the luxurious penthouse and noticed a flickering light coming from the living room. Was the TV on? As Jack rounded the corner into the room, all of his anger and stress from the day was put on hold. There Rhys was, sitting all curled up on the couch with tears streaming from his eyes. Jack was at his side faster than he could process.

“Rhysie, baby, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Jack’s hands were running all over Rhys’ body, trying to find anything that could be physically wrong with him, but he found nothing. It took Rhys a moment to calm himself down and he quickly wiped at his eyes and face as he sniffled a few times. Finally once he was able to breathe normally, he smiled and nodded, grabbing hold of Jack’s hands.

“I-I’m okay, Jack. I was just trying to w-wait up for you because I missed you and decided to watch a m-movie,” Rhys trailed off, looking over towards the screen where the film was still playing and burst back into tears. Jack sat there for a moment, his eyes blinking slowly as watched his boyfriend. The biggest grin pulled across Jack’s face and he covered his mouth as he let out a hearty laugh, the sound startling Rhys a bit. Rhys looked over at him with wide eyes, his brows drawing together as he began to cry harder.

“Why are you laughing?!” Rhys whined softly and threw a box of tissues that was sitting next to him at Jack’s head. Jack continued to laugh, dodging Rhys’ attack and scooted in closer to the younger man. He reached over and paused the movie before collecting Rhys up into his arms. He gently kissed at Rhys’ face, his lips attempting to wipe away his lovers tears.

“Because you’re adorable, kiddo and I just love you is all. And you’re ridiculous,” Jack winked and laughed softly, planting a soft kiss on top of Rhys’ head. “Thank you for waiting up for me, that was very sweet of you. Shall we go to bed? It’s pretty late-” Jack started to let Rhys go and stand up when he felt Rhys tugging at his shirt sleeve. Rhys sniffled as he stared up at him with misty eyes, his bottom lip pouting out as he held Jack there. Jack closed his eyes and huffed out a laugh as he sat back down on the couch.

“What is it?” Jack mused and nudged at Rhys gently with his elbow. Rhys just stuck his lip out more, his eyes welling up with more tears. Jack slapped his hand against his own face and pulled down, his head shaking a little as he continued to laugh. “Come on cupcake, use your words.” Jack carefully took hold of Rhys’ flesh hand and brought it up to his lips, kissing at his skin slowly, the older man trying to coax it out of him. Rhys felt a quick shiver run over him and he sniffled softly before nodding a few times.

“Well, I was wondering if you’d,” Rhys worried over his lower lip as his eyes slid over to the tv screen and he felt his face go a bit flush. He knew it wasn’t Jack’s thing to watch sappy chick flicks, but he really had missed him all day and was feeling a bit needy at the moment. “If you’d stay up a little bit longer and finish this movie with me. It’s almost done, really! You wouldn’t have to endure too much, ah ha ha…” Rhys tried to smile but it came out like a nervous grimace and he deflated a bit, thinking he already knew the answer. Jack tilted his head at the question and smiled as he watched Rhys. God damn, he was so fucking cute and all Jack wanted to do was just be near him right now.

Without a word, Jack grabbed hold of Rhys’ flesh wrist and pulled the younger man on to him, positioning them so Jack was propped up a bit against the couch and Rhys was lying in between his legs. Rhys blinked and let out a small yelp as he was pulled, his metal hand resting against Jack’s chest. He peered up at him with red, puffy eyes and raised a single brow. So, was that a yes then?

“Get in here babe, what are we watching?” Jack asked in an almost chipper tone as he settled further into the couch, grabbing a nearby throw pillow and sticking it under his free arm so he could get a better grip on Rhys. Rhys felt a small smile creep across his lips and he swallowed dryly as he reached for the remote, not entirely sure if he was ready for this ending.

“Aah, it’s called ‘A Walk to Remember’. It’s about these teens who fall in love but it’s later revealed that the girl is sick with cancer and uh,” Rhys’ voice broke a bit and he let out a faint whimper as he felt his eyes start to well up again. “I don’t think she’s going to make it.” Rhys buried his face into Jack’s chest and let out a very dramatic wail, his feet kicking against the couch. “It’s not faiiiirrrr.”

Jack watched with amused eyes as Rhys did this and he threw his head back against the couch, laughing loudly. He snatched up the remote from Rhys with one hand and ruffled Rhys’ hair with the other.

“Well that sounds like a roaring good time and not depressing as fuck at all. Shall we?” Jack waggled his brows a few times as he wiggled the remote back and forth between his fingers. Rhys took a deep breath and nodded and Jack hit play. It didn’t take long before Rhys was full on crying once again, the whole ending of the movie was completely heartbreaking. Even Jack felt a bit choked up watching it. Rhys’ tears were staining Jack’s shirt as they laid there, cuddled on the couch together, their bodies completely entangled. Jack was merely half watching the movie though, most of the time his eyes were on Rhys, his hand gently running through Rhys’ thick, chestnut hair, trying to soothe him. His other arm was wrapped tightly around Rhys’ shoulders, his thumb rubbing small circles into Rhys’ skin. Rhys was completely attached to Jack, at some point his arms had made their way loosely around Jack’s torso, so he was hugging him. His long, gangly legs were lying mixed in with Jack’s carefully. Really, there was no part of either of them that wasn’t touching the other.

The movie was clearly coming to an end as Rhys started crying more and more, his whimpers breaking through over the film's dialogue. Rhys had been right about the girl’s fate. Jack would give him a sympathetic squeeze and hold him tighter and closer each time until it got to the point where Rhys was so far up on him, he could barely see the screen. He was fine with it though. As the now only remaining, living main character uttered the last line, Rhys was a complete mess. He curled up into Jack as the credits began to roll and just sobbed. Jack carefully sat up as not to drop Rhys so he could get a better grip on the younger man. They sat like that for a few minutes, Rhys’ weeping slowly dying down before Jack clicked off the tv and scooped the younger man up into his arms.

“Come on baby, let’s get you away from here so Nicholas Sparks can’t hurt you anymore.” They both shared a laugh and Rhys leaned into a kiss Jack had placed on his forehead. Rhys held onto him tightly, his arms wrapping around Jack’s neck as he was carried to their bedroom. Once he was set down on the bed, Jack moved in with a kleenex and began gently cleaning up Rhys’ face until it was all dry. Rhys smiled wide and quickly leaned up, stealing a kiss from his boyfriend. Jack blinked and laughed, crumpling up the tissue and tossing it somewhere behind him. He. Was. So. Fucking. Cute. He let out a deep yawn and began undressing out of his work attire. Rhys watched him with a small smile on his face for a few moments and then drew his brows together when he glanced over at the clock. He hadn’t even realized the time. Jack had come home so late and Rhys didn’t even think to ask about his day when he got home because he was so preoccupied. He felt a bit guilty about the whole thing now.

“Late night at the office then?” Jack heard Rhys ask as he was pulling his shirt up over his head, an edge getting stuck on one of the latches on his mask. He let out an exasperated sigh as he tried to get it undone to no avail.

“Y-yeah, it was just a bullshit day. I couldn’t wait to be-” Jack growled a bit, still trapped within his stupid yellow Hyperion shirt. This was just great, the perfect ending to a perfectly shit day. He could feel himself getting aggravated when suddenly he felt flesh and metal hands grab his waist. Jack jumped a bit as the cool metal pressed into his warm skin but stopped moving as Rhys held him still. Rhys made quick work of the snag and Jack was freed within seconds. Rhys finished pulling the shirt off and Jack was met with beautiful heterochromic eyes and a warm smile. “...h-home.” Jack managed to finish his sentence finally. Even after all this time, there was still something about Rhys that completely caught the other man off guard. He had this amazing, specific smile that would leave Jack completely flabbergasted. He could feel his cheeks burning beneath his mask as Rhys looked at him like that. Rhys took the opportunity to take hold of Jack’s hand and slowly pull him into bed with him.

“That’s okay, we don’t have to talk about any of that right now. Tonight, you’ll get some rest and tomorrow will be a new, better day. Now get over here.” Rhys laughed and yanked Jack down onto the bed and quickly pulled him in close. Jack nearly tripped over himself as he was pulled and let out a laugh as he hit the bed. He nestled into the sheets, so happy to be back in their bed. Honestly, why did they ever leave it? Rhys slipped in behind him, his flesh arm wrapping around Jack’s waist and pulled him in close, their bodies pressing flush to one anothers. Jack let out an almost elated sigh, sincerely happy to just be home and in Rhys’ arms. He didn’t mind being the little spoon at times and Rhys was damn good at cuddling, so this was really nice. It didn’t take long before Jack was out, his body completely relaxed beneath his boyfriends hold. Rhys nuzzled his face against Jack’s back gently, his lips pressing lazy kisses into Jack’s skin. The younger man smiled and laughed gently as he felt his eyes growing heavy with sleep.

“Goodnight, my handsome Jack. I love you…”

#rhack #handsome jack #rhys the company man #tftbl #borderlands #tales from the borderlands #erinchu writes #writing prompt #love you frab #fluff #cuddling #cuddles #yay happy rhack for once lol #I HOPE THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED ;.;#ily

46 notes · View notes

sippin-on-red-wine · 7 years

Text

High Tide | Chapter 1: If You’ll Have Me

Title: High Tide: An Original, Ed Sheeran Mature Fan Fic | Chapter 1: If You’ll Have Me Author: @sippin-on-red-wine Rating: 17+, Mature (Smut comes in at the end of this chapter) Word Count: 10,478 Author’s Note: This is my first ever attempt at writing fan fiction, let alone that of the smutty variety. I started to read it recently and wanted to take a stab at my own story. I am SEEKING FEEDBACK of any and all kinds! Please feel free to drop me a message, an ask, on anon -- ANYTHING! I want to know how you like the story, the characters, do you relate to them? What did you like? What is missing? Any requests for future installments? HIT ME UP. Enjoy!

**Please like/re-blog!**

************************************************

Ed set his glass down on the kitchen counter and poured himself another whiskey, neat. He had lost track of how many he had, though he knew the whiskies were only perpetuating his bad mood. Usually he was a fun drunk, bit of a boozy idiot actually, but that was when he was with his friends. Drinking alone didn’t warrant any celebration. Especially considering the events that had transpired in the last several weeks. Luckily, his mates were due to arrive here tomorrow afternoon.

He strode back upstairs to the master suite of his friend’s summer home in Southport, ME. She had been there when shit really hit the fan and offered up the house to Ed for as long as he needed it. She said it was the perfect place to stay out of the public eye. It was a gated community, the beaches not accessible to the public, and most people only summered there anyway. Labor Day had come and gone, and she assured Ed he wouldn’t be bothered.

He had a few dates to finish up on the Asia leg of his tour and had planned on flying back to London to start work on his next album until he was due to continue touring in the States, and actually be able to spend some time in his own god damned house. But he couldn’t face going home, the home he had built with her, not after what had happened. So he gladly took his friend up on her offer, heading to New England instead.

Ed walked barefoot across the plush carpet toward the electric fireplace. From the bits he heard on the news, it was an unseasonably warm September on the East Coast, but the nights were still really cool. He clicked the fire on and instantly felt a tick better, taking a moment to watch the flames flicker and fade.

He strode over to the big bay window next and, with a different button on the same remote, sent the blinds up. He looked down at the neighboring house, peering into the big, open windows of the living room.

Right, well wasn’t she having a better night than me? Ed looked down and studied his new neighbor. She looked to be maybe in her late twenties, tan skinned and dark hair piled all up on top of her head, rectangular specs perched on her nose. She was wearing tight black leggings and a long-sleeved red T-shirt with “Wisconsin” spelled out in white block lettering.

She walked gracefully into the living room, holding a glass of wine and a very large book. Ed watched her lie back on a black leather couch, whose back was up against the large windows facing him, and slide on some reading glasses that had been left there. Setting her wine down on the table and tossing a throw pillow behind her back, she opened up her book and settled in. Ed wasn’t sure why he was still watching, likely because he had fuck-all else to do, other than finish his whiskey.

A few beats passed and Ed decided he was being creepy, and turned to grab the remote to lower the blinds back down.

****************************************************

I slowed to a jog as I jammed the speed button down on the treadmill. I looked down at the controls and saw my stats for this run, I had gone for almost 40 minutes longer than I normally did. I slowed to a walk for a few minutes and then shut the machine off.

My hair was pulled back into a ponytail and tucked into an old baseball hat which was now drenched in sweat. I walked across my home gym over to the attached bathroom, peeling off my cap, tank top, sports bra and running tights, depositing them in the laundry chute. I tugged the elastic out of my hair and slipped into the shower, turning the faucet to just barely warm enough.

I stood under the spray, ruminating on the events of the last two weeks.

I had woken up at the asscrack of dawn yesterday to drive Ed’s friends to the airport. They had planned on just getting a cab, but I had insisted. The last two weeks spent with them here would be stuck in my memory forever. They were so upbeat, really bringing me out of my social black hole I’d been rocking for the last couple of years. And holy shit, I thought I drank too much on my own, but I had really punished my liver while they were here.

Ed rode along to bid his mates farewell, sitting shotgun and toying with my shifting hand throughout the entire two hour drive. We dropped them off outside the airport, hopping out to help them unstack their luggage from the back. They each hugged Ed & I, promised to see him again soon, and thanked me for my hospitality again.

The last two weeks had been nearly a non-stop party, chock filled with laughter, booze, bonfires, meals shared at my dining room table (the first time it had ever been used, by the way). But there was something more.

I hadn’t known, but Ed had been living in the house next door for two weeks before I met him. His friend Pete had seen me sitting out on the beach in front of my house on their first night in town, I had headphones in listening to a podcast when he tapped me on the shoulder, scaring the SHIT out of me, making me spill wine all up and down my front. The poor guy felt bad about that for at least a week. He had invited me over to join their bonfire, a friendly act that led to a chain of events that might actually have changed my life.

I must have looked like a total idiot, because I didn’t realize Ed was Ed Sheeran until the third night, when someone brought a guitar out to the fire and passed it around. The group was surprised when it came to my turn and I set my drink down, burying the stem of my glass in the sand, and plucked out a mediocre-at-best rendition of Miranda Lambert’s ‘Oklahoma Sky’. A party trick I probably wouldn’t have broken out if I hadn’t A) Been thoroughly liquored up and B) Knew I was in the presence of the largest male pop artist in the fucking world.

“Anything you can��t do, love?” Ed had chuckled as I finished, clapping along with the group. “The lady can sail, she plays guitar, and makes the best fucking lobstah mac n cheese in the whole world.” He imitated the classic Bostonian accent on ‘lobster’, sending me into a tizzy. His American accent impressions were freaking hilarious.

“Ah, well, you caught me. I know like, three songs. How does that saying go? ‘Jack of All Trades, Master of None’ ? Yep, that’d be me,” I said, passing the guitar to Ed on my left.

Night had just fallen. The air felt like a shade of navy blue with silver-white stars starting to freckle the sky above us. Ed picked up the guitar and started strumming out this beguiling melody.

“You look so wonderful in your dress, I love your hair like that. The way it falls on the side of your neck, down your shoulders and back….” I was in awe. The beautiful tenor of his voice sang out, fingers plucking the bronze strings of the guitar, his eyes closed the whole time. “So in love, so in love, so in love…” It was such a touching song.

He was barely finished when I asked, “Who sings that? That was a beautiful song, wow.”

A beat passed and no one said anything. Lauren, a strikingly tall brunette, stood up and strode over to me, hooking her arm through mine, “Let’s get a refill, yeah?” Well this is awkward.

“Erm, sure,” and I walked with her, arms still linked. She flung open the sliding glass door and I followed her into Ed’s kitchen. It was quite similar to mine, all white, with marble countertops and a large island which was currently being used as a makeshift bar.

“Love, you know who Ed is, right?” She said, looking down at me. Okay, so she didn’t bring me in here for a fill-up.

“Uh… I don’t follow?”

“Are you bullshitting me right now?” She said, taking a step toward me.

“Whoa, okay, can you please clue me in on what we’re talking about here?” I was quick to jump on the defense.

She exhaled loudly. “Ed Sheeran… you know… like, super huge pop singer? Won Grammy’s n shit?”

I racked my brain, trying to find an association with the name “Ed Sheeran”. The puzzle must have played out on my face, because Lauren dug into her pocket, pulling out her iPhone. She quickly tapped the screen a few times, and suddenly a song started playing out of the little speaker. “White lips, pale face, breathing in the snowflakes,” sang out. I suddenly felt like I had a rock in my stomach. She was tapping away at her phone again, another haunting melody beginning, playing in super-speed as she drug her finger across the screen, fast forwarding. “...keep me inside the pocket of your ripped jeans, holding me closer til our eyes meet, you won’t ever be alone - wait for me to come home.”

Holy shit. I set my drink down on the counter and gripped the edge. I didn’t live *completely* under a rock and had heard these songs on the local pop station, both here & back home. I saw Lauren look outside at all the guys still sitting around the fire. She pulled up another song, a sort of xylophone beat playing out, “The club isn’t the best place to find a lover, so the bar is where I go..”

“Okay, I get it.” I said, wanting her to shut the dang thing off. “I had no idea.”

“Look, I’m sorry, I’m the one that made it weird. I just thought you would want to know. Ed is totally chill. Let’s go back out by the guys. C'mon.” She handed my wine glass back, hers in tow as well.

I was reluctant, not really knowing what Ed's reaction would be. Would he think I was lying? Would he be insulted? I followed Lauren across the cool tile of the kitchen floor, out onto the patio and back down onto the beach. Ed turned his head as we approached, the guitar abandoned in the sand next to him.

“I’m guessing Lauren just blew my cover, yeah?” He joked.

“Sorry, I totally didn’t realize. I don’t do like, social media or anything, and I mostly listen to country on the radio.” I shrugged, feeling the need to explain myself.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ed reached out and rubbed my shoulder blade. “I need that ego check sometimes, I think.”

“Bloody hell ‘e does,” piped in one of the other guys, everyone laughing and chiming in with their own similar sentiments.

And things were totally back to normal after that.

The next ten days were a blur of too much food, too much alcohol, a lot of laughs, and a blossoming interest in my new neighbor. I found myself drawn to him, and he, to me. It was a few days after the “revelation” when I had taken the gang out on one of the ocean charters my company operated during the tourist season. We went out a couple hours before sundown, hoping to catch a glimpse of some of the whales that would be heading back down to warmer waters now from up in Nova Scotia. We were not disappointed. The six of us were out on the bow of the ship, a 50 foot beauty, new to the fleet this year. There was a small pod of humpback whales that were delighted to play in the foamy bubble spray that was kicked up by our propellers. We were exhilarated, watching the water for bubbles and dorsal fins, waiting for the next breach.

The biggest momma whale propelled out of the water, crashing down, creating a huge splash - I looked over and saw Ed’s face light up, head thrown back, mouth open with silent laughter. I couldn’t help but grin at his childlike wonder. He peeked at me out of the corner of his eye and caught me admiring him. He was up against the railing, I was standing back about a foot away, on deck. He twisted away from the rail and reached out to me, both hands coming to clasp mine, and he drew me into his chest, wrapping me up in a big hug, resting his chin on the top of my head. I closed my eyes, squeezing my arms around his ribcage, inhaling his slightly sweet scent of cinnamon.

I had butterflies in my stomach. I knew that I had started to develop feelings for him, but it was so early, and I didn't think he felt the same way. But when he drew me into his chest, out on the open water, I didn't know what to think anymore. I decided to play it cool.

I was re-watching these scenes in my head, and a few more days passed by. It was Saturday night and the gang was feeling particularly energetic. We set up a game of beer pong and played each other in teams of two. Once that got boring, we switched the flippy-cup, 3 on 3, playing a few sets of that. I was feeling particularly juiced up, not used to drinking any type of alcohol at such a fast pace. The boys turned on some music and we gathered round the kitchen island, grabbing out a deck of cards to play Circle of Death and pouring shots for everyone.

After the first “Waterfall” of the game, I desperately needed some air. It seemed like there were five different conversations going on at once, and the bass of Ed’s rap music was thumping throughout the kitchen. I slipped out the patio door and sauntered down to the beach, not thinking anyone had noticed me leave.

I walked down to the shore, where a few small boulders created a miniature version of Maine’s signature craggy rock seashore. I picked a smooth, flat stone and sat down, leaning back on my hands. The salty air was cathartic and I had hoped it would help sober me up a bit.

I heard the barely-there sounds of footfalls on the sand and turned back to see Ed walking toward me, looking devilishly handsome in a plain white tee and jeans. His hands were stuffed in his pockets as he came and planted himself down on my rock, hip to hip.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey yourself.”

“Something wrong?” He asked, sounding mildly concerned.

“Yeah. You Brits are born with too high of an alcohol tolerance. I simply cannot keep up,” I sassed.

He cackled, “Ha! Don't repeat that to them, it will only egg them on more.”

He reached down for my hand, lacing his fingers in with mine, and leaned his head onto my shoulder. We sat there, just like that, in total silence but for the lap, lap, lap of the tide coming in to meet the beach.

And then he kissed me. He tilted his head up from my shoulder, using his free hand to bring my face in towards him, those perfect pink lips just slightly parted, his hand still cradling my face. His mouth sought out mine and I happily obliged, melting into his, the delicious feel of his tongue slipping past mine, swirling so tenderly. I could taste the cool whiskey and coke on his breath. His ripe berry-colored lips pressed into mine once more, and then he retreated.

“Come on, love, let's head back inside.” He said, standing up and offering out his hands to help you up.

Later, I laid in bed, wondering what the hell that had been about. Was he just tipsy? He had stayed fairly close to me for the rest of the night, once we re-joined the party, resting his hand on the small of my back at one point. But when I insisted I needed to head home to bed, he wished me goodnight with a hug and kiss on the cheek - as did every single one of those drunk Brits. I decided not to over think what this was, or wasn't, or where it was going. It felt nice and I just wanted to roll with the punches.

I snapped back to reality. The water in my shower was running cold now - I jacked the dial up toward the Hot side and went to work on washing my hair. I soaped up my loofah and sloppily scrubbed at my body while my conditioner soaked in. I made quick work with my razor and rinsed my hair one last time. Popping out of the shower, I dried myself thoroughly, wrapping my hair and body up in towels and headed upstairs to my room.

After Ed and I got back from the airport yesterday, we both went our separate ways, and I had resolved myself to leave him be for a while. That was just yesterday morning and now, the next afternoon, I was already yearning to see him again. I dropped my towel, tugged on a pair of black leggings, a white and grey long sleeved baseball tee, and some no-show socks. I bent over, shaking the towel out of my hair and using it to scrunch up my long, brown locks a bit. Then I grabbed a hair tie and piled it all on top of my head in a damp messy bun.

I flew down the steps and out the door into the garage, grabbing the keys for my Wrangler on the way out. My brain was on auto-pilot as I drove into town, calling up my favorite pizza place and ordering a large pepperoni & garlic bread to-go. If I had learned anything about Ed in the last two weeks, it's that his fridge was devoid of anything edible at almost all times. I thought surprising him with a pizza would be a good excuse to “pop in.”

I jammed a bit to the Beatles on the way to and from the pizza shop. It wasn’t a terribly long drive though, so I was pulling back into my driveway in no time, my car just absolutely reeking of delicious cheesy pizza goodness.

I parked in my driveway and crossed the lawn over to Ed’s, knocking on the front door. A beat passed, no answer. I knocked again, then tried the doorbell. I was just starting to get worried when the door swung open.

I was greeted by a tousled Ed...still wearing the same clothes he had on for the drive yesterday. To be honest, he reeked of booze, and not in the sexy whiskey-coke-kiss way that we shared the other night on the beach. I heard bass thumping faintly from somewhere in the house, and it looked like most of the lights were off inside.

“Um, hi, love, whaddya got there?” He was leaned up against the door jam, clearly needing its support to stand. Nice.

“I just thought you might like to, ah, share a pizza? Is this a bad time?” I asked, offering him an out.

“Nope,” he said, popping that “p” sound like he was known to do. “Come on in.”

He beckoned me inside, turning and walking through the foyer, clearly moving slowly, trying to focus on his steps. I walked ahead of him toward the kitchen to set down the pizza boxes. The kitchen was in total disarray; empty, half-crushed beer cans littered the counters and filled the sink. There were ashtrays filled with cigarette butts, frozen burrito wrappers. To be honest, the place looked like a shit hole.

Ed stumbled into the kitchen, plopping down in one of the stools at the island. He put his head in his hands, staring down at the countertop.

“Kendra?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry that you are seeing me this way.” His voice was stone cold now.

“Is this why I didn’t know you were living here for two weeks before your friends came to visit? This is what you were doing?”

I folded my arms across my chest, feeling all of the joy and wonder and magic of the last two weeks slowly seep out in my deep exhale. This was a straight-up turn off. It was clear that he had been on a total bender, alone, since what? 30 hours ago when I dropped him off here after holding his hand in the car? This was like a totally different person. I could just walk away now, cut my losses. I had done this shit before, in a past life, and had no desire to repeat that history.

But then he looked up at me from his hands, tears in his bloodshot eyes. He looked utterly defeated. Where was the cackling, ginger-haired man child? Was this because of his friends leaving? I didn’t understand. I mean, you barely know him, no shit you don’t understand.

I made a decision then, straightening up and bringing my eyes up to meet his.

“Okay, we’re going to talk about this another time, but why don’t I get you a glass of water and some of this pizza? To be honest, I think you could stand to sober up a bit.”

He nodded solemnly. I turned back to the cabinet and pulled out a glass and a plate. I cracked open the pizza box, snagging a slice and taking a quick bite of it myself, then threw a couple slices on the plate and slid it in front of him. I walked over to the fridge, filling the pint glass with crushed ice and then filtered water. I began opening drawers, rummaging through their contents, trying to locate a straw. I spent three months as a bartender, once, where I learned that drunk people will always drink more water if they’re sucking it down through a straw.

I brought the glass of water over to him. He was eating the pizza, good. I set to work cleaning up the kitchen, turning a few lights on, clearing up the beer cans, booze bottles, and rubbish from the countertops. Another quick check in on Drunky McSheeran told me he was drinking his water, too, good.

I quickly took the trash out, and flitted back inside to open a few windows. It was cool outside and this place definitely needed some fresh air. I found the stereo that was on and switched it off. Ed was helping himself to some of the garlic bread, that was a good sign. It felt good to be productive at least. I wandered back over to Ed and sidled up in the barstool next to him, reaching over him to grab myself a piece of pizza.

He rested his hand on my thigh. “I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to do allthis.” He stumbled over his words.

“Hey,” I rubbed small circles at the top of his back, “It’s okay. I got you.”

He dropped a pizza crust onto his plate and slurped down the rest of his water. “I think I should lie down,” he mumbled, “not feeling s’hot.”

“Okay, why don’t you lie down on the couch over here.” And in the meantime, I’ll locate a puke bucket.

He stood up from the counter and sauntered over to the couch, crawling on top of it and lying on his side. I opened his walk-in pantry and saw a stack of mixing bowls, grabbing the biggest one and taking it over to him.

“Here, Ed, in case you get sick…” I said, setting it on the floor beside his head.

For someone who had totally brought this on himself, I was kind of feeling bad for him now. He looked so small; curled up on the couch, hugging a throw pillow to his chest, in yesterday’s clothes.

I thought he at least deserved a proper pillow & blanket, so I took off upstairs to grab one from the bedroom. I located my supplies and headed back down to the couch, spreading the throw blanket over him. He was passed out already. That's probably for the best. I looked up at the clock; 6:30 PM. Well, this was not exactly how I thought I'd be spending my evening. I lifted his head to slip the pillow underneath, for support, but my hands lingered there in his curly red locks.

I sat down on the oversized chair adjacent to the couch, not knowing what to do next. I probably could go home, but what if he like, threw up in his sleep and choked or something? Not likely to happen, but it was still a possibility. I grabbed the TV remote and clicked it on, selecting Netflix from the tv menu and turning on Lost, Season 1, Episode 1. Ahhh, old faithful. This could keep me occupied for a while.

I must have dozed off too at some point, because I awoke with a start and it was now dark outside. I glanced up at the clock on the mantle, it was a little past midnight.

Ed's POV

I came to, but didn't open my eyes at first. Quick assessment: ok, I feel like shit, but nothing out of the ordinary for this kind of liver abuse. Fucking thirsty. Need water. Where am I?

I cracked my lids open then. No glasses, hmm..okay, I'm sure they were around. I was covered in a pale grey fleece blanket with a paisley design on it, and there was a feather pillow under my neck, but I was stretched out on the living room couch. What the? And then it all came flooding back. My heart sank. Kendra.

I sat up, and saw her then. Curled up in oversized chair, she was asleep with the TV remote in hand. To be honest, she looked adorable: messy bun all piled up on top of her head, no makeup, just a tee shirt and leggings on.

Oh, shit. Here I had gone on a dark & twisty, solo bender and this gorgeous girl had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I checked my surroundings. The pillow and blanket was definitely her doing. I'd slept in a lot worse conditions than just a couch while pissed up, God knew that. Next I spotted a large stainless steel bowl on the carpet beside the couch. Shit, I hope I didn't...

There were three bottles of water next to the bowl too, and I scooped one up, tossing the cap and drinking nearly the whole thing in one go. I turned and surveyed the kitchen next; gone were the piles of rubbish, and there were pizza boxes on the island countertop. That must have been Kendra's work too, because he had discovered earlier that no pizza joints delivered to this neighborhood in the off-season.

I felt a sick knot in my stomach, realizing what she must think of me now. Such a fuck-up. She must have wanted to share a slice with me, maybe cuddle up on the couch and finally talk about what had been going on between us, now that the rest of the group had gone home.

Instead she got this. I could just fucking picture it, here I am, reeking of sweat & shame, having just boozed & chain-smoked my way through the past 24+ hours.

She woke up, then, with a jump. I watched her eyes open, clearly also confused for a sec on where she was.

“Oh. Good morning, Sunshine,” she said, sarcasm just rolling.

“...hi…”

“Can't imagine you're feeling too hot. What, you slept for about 6 hours? Think you’re even below the legal limit yet?” Well shit.

“Shit, Kendra, I don't know what to say. I'm sorry you had to see me that way.” I didn't have an excuse to give.

“Yeah, you said that before. I mean, it's none of my business what you do really. I just didn't want you to choke on your own vomit and die.”

This girl took no prisoners. She was calling me out on my shit. Usually everybody around just put up with my antics, either because they were on my bankroll, or didn't want to offend me. It was honestly like a breath of fresh air.

“Look, Ed, I'm sorry -- that was harsh. I don't know you that well, and I have a feeling that you're dealing with some shit right now. I can't pretend to know what unique set of problems come with, being, well.. You...and Christ, I have a drink to relax or take the edge off after a long day, but that’s not what this is..”

She paused, closing her eyes for a minute, and looked back up at me.

“No,” I said, cutting her off. “There’s no excuse. You’re right.”

She got up from the chair and walked over to the kitchen island, reaching for her purse which was slung over the back of one of the barstools. I stood up from the couch and crossed the short distance to her.

“Wait, Kendra, please don't leave,” I felt like a real dick, asking her to stay, after she had already sat here most of the night watching over me, but I couldn't stand to see her go.

She stopped in her tracks, and turned toward me. “Why, Ed?”. Her big, almond-shaped mahogany eyes were looking straight up at me, pleading.

Shit. She knew, why, I'm sure. She wants you to say it out loud, you asshole.

“I...I really like you, Kendra.” Once the words spilled out of my mouth, I wondered why I hadn't said them before. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.”

Those big eyes were looking up at me again.

Kendra’s POV

“Why are you here, Ed? You’re not on a leisurely vacation or spending your time off work with family. Why are you here in this house and not at home?” I was prying now.

He sighed. “....A couple of months ago, I found out my girlfriend was cheating on me. Like, not once or twice. She had an affair the entire time we were together. I finished up my Asia tour dates, thought I was holding it together just fine, but then work stopped for a while and I didn’t know what to do with myself anymore. I didn’t want to go back to England. I wanted to be by myself for a while,” He said, avoiding eye contact with me.

Oh, well that explains some things.

I dropped my purse on the kitchen counter, and walked over to take a seat on the couch. Ed followed suit, taking up the seat on the opposite end. I turned inward, my back up against the armrest, drawing my legs up into my chest. He remained seated forward, talking to the floor in front of him.

He went on. “I told myself I was coming here for ‘solitude’, but that’s not really the truth. I was coming here to wallow. And I did. But then my mates flew in, wanting to cheer me up, and my pissed up idiot friend spotted you from the kitchen window and immediately fancied you, so he invited you over. I was just trying to keep my distance. But as I got to know you, I couldn’t do that anymore.”

He looked at me then, sorrow contouring the lines of his handsome face.

“Honestly, it felt like a trick, to stumble upon you after that….disaster. I love music, I love my job, my life… but it’s not a normal life. Relationships need normal. It never works out for me. I’m away too much, or people see me as a way to get what they want. When I met you, here, it kind of felt like the Universe giving me a big F-U.”

Wow is he dropping some truth.

“You’re beautiful, and smart, and funny, and you’re so good at, like, everything. You’re independent and I’m envious of that. I can’t even be left alone for one day. You deserve better than me, Kenn.”

He finally fell silent.

“That’s not your call to make,” I spoke at barely above a whisper. My anger had totally dissipated. He was so raw, so honest with me. I felt like I owed it to him to be the same.

“Do you know why I’m here, Ed? This is my home, now, but when I came here two years ago, I was a total wreck.” His ears perked up now. “About a year prior to that, I was particularly pissed off after a long day of getting my ass handed to me at work. I stopped off at the store and bought a bottle of vodka and.. a powerball ticket. I tucked the ticket into the visor of my car and went home and drank at least half that bottle. But I won. I had every single number right and I won. A lot. It was amazing, at first, like living a dream. But within weeks, word got out and I had to change my phone number and shut off all of my social media accounts. Within months, I practically had a nervous breakdown, every single person in my life had their hands out and I wanted to give them everything they wanted, all of them, and I could have, but they weren’t there for me. I couldn’t handle it, so I just left. I didn’t say goodbye to anyone but my Mum. And that’s why I’m here. I can’t date; I can’t make friends. Once people find out what I have, it’s all they care about. I see it in their eyes.” I laughed, “You think I’m a strong, independent girl by choice? It’s because I’m the only person I trust. You have nothing to be envious about. It’s fucking lonely.”

God, it was like an anchor had been lifted from my chest. My eyes were stinging, welling up with tears. I fought them back.

He lowered himself from the couch to the floor and scooted over in front of me, wrapping his arms around my hips and laying his head down in my lap. We stayed like that for a few striking moments, not saying anything.

He sat back, withdrawing his arms.

“We're pretty fucked up, aren't we?” He said, out of nowhere. I couldn't help but burst out into laughter, nodding. Ed laughed along with me, too, his throaty cackle causing me to geek out even harder. We were delirious for a minute, like our bodies just needed to do something to shake up the feelings about what had just transpired. We both died down, falling silent again.

“What I feel for you is real, Kendra. I've never felt anything like it. I'm just drawn to you,” He squeezed my hand, those pretty blue eyes looking right into mine.

“I feel that way about you, too, Ed.”

“Then let's give this thing a proper go. I don't have much time left to spend here, maybe another six weeks, but I want to spend it with you. I want to do it right, too, take you on dates and spend hours talking until the sun comes up. I want to know everything about you.”

Gone was the defeated boy that lay here just hours earlier, this was a man, with resolve in his voice.

He went on, “I think, though, this means taking things slowly. I hope you understand. I want to do this right, Kendra, if you'll have me.”

I leapt down to the floor, pressing my body against his, holding him tightly. We kissed then; softly, sweetly, his hands coming up to cup my jaw.

Our lips broke apart. “Yes.”

It was the start of something beautiful.

****************************************************

Ed was back to his cheery self the day after our talk. He knocked on my door late-morning, a bouquet of fresh daisies in hand. He was wearing a dark chambray button-up shirt with a crisp white tee underneath, matched with black jeans and sneakers. He had a pair of aviators tucked into the top of his shirt. The effect was quite stunning.

“Hey, love, I got somethin’ for you,” he said cheekily, handing the flowers over and plopping a kiss on my cheek.

“Thank you! They're beautiful,” I brought them up to my nose to inhale the fresh floral scent. “Come in, I'm just finishing up in the kitchen.”

He kicked his sneakers off, abandoning them by the front door.

I quickly located a vase and cut the stems of the daisies, submerging them in water. My kitchen was a total mess, dirty pots and sauce pans and measuring cups strewn about, ingredients still sitting out on the countertop. It was my weekly ritual to prep a few meals and desserts for Augie, the captain who kept my boat tour business afloat, quite literally. I had met Augie at a dive bar over in Boothbay when I first moved here, and he and his wife kind of took me in. He was older, late sixties I think. We formed a fast friendship and he started taking me out on the water, teaching me how to pull up the big lobster pots, expertly navigating the harbor. He taught me to sail, too, though I wasn't comfortable going out too far without him. Augie had worked his whole life as a fishermen, having retired just before we met. He told me his dream had always been to run a boat company and well, I made it happen. He and his wife had showed me so much kindness, it was the best way to repay them.

“Sorry for the mess, I'm just making a few things to bring over to Augie for the week. I'm just about done and then I was going to run into town to drop this off for him.”

Ed had met Augie that first week when we went out whale watching. The two had hit it off instantly.

“That's sweet of you, love. What's the occasion?”

“Oh, his wife passed away last Spring, and I've been doing it ever since. They were married like, 45 years or something, and she did all the cooking before..” my voice trailed off.

“Here, let me give you a hand with this stuff,” he began clearing dishes off the counter. I wasn't about to argue, technically he did owe me from the day before.

I had an oldies station playing softly in the background. Together, we made a good team, Ed rolled up his sleeves and set to work washing dishes while I packaged up the different entrees I had prepared. Danny's Song was playing, and I heard Ed start to hum aloud. I couldn't help but smile.

Minutes later, he shut off the faucet and wiped down the counters. I stacked up all the containers in a big brown bag, threw in a bag of homemade cookies on the top, and with that, my care package was complete.

“Are you busy today?” I asked, “Do you want to run into town with me?”

“I am all yours. Let's go.” He wiped his hands and came over to kiss me, leaving a little taste of those delicious lips on my own.

I drove us into town, stopping first to drop the care package off at Augie's house. We cruised over to the harbor then, parking in the big lot and walking around downtown. I bought Ed his first whoopie pie, which he loved - such a sweet tooth, that one. We picked a few flavors and took a box to go.

He kept his sleeves rolled down and sunglasses on, but we were still stopped by a mom and a young girl on the sidewalk. Ed was so gracious, giving them both a hug and taking several silly selfies before saying good-bye.

We strolled down the boardwalk, hand-in-hand, stopping in some of the souvenir shops to see who could find the silliest item. We ended up leaving with matching Moose slippers and a few other knick knacks.

Hours had flown by like minutes. It was late in the afternoon, then, and neither of us had eaten lunch. We decided to grab a lobster roll & blueberry soda at one of the roadside stands.

“I really love it here,” Ed said, stuffing his face. “Would you be embarrassed if I ordered a second one? This is sooooo good.”

I laughed, “Go ahead babe, I don't blame you.” He walked back up to the order counter and was clearly charming the lady working, as I heard her laugh ringing out like a bell across the little gravel eating area.

He slid back into the picnic table bench with another sandwich. “What's next on the agenda, babe? Do you want to rent a movie to watch tonight?”

“Sure, there's a Walgreens up the road, we can hit the RedBox on the way home.”

We cleaned up from the buttery sandwiches as best as possible with moist towelettes, then headed back towards the car.

He let me pick the movie and we were on our way home, opting to watch at his place. Ed brought out a bottle of white wine, pouring two glasses and we snuggled in on the couch together to watch the flick. I finished mine, instantly feeling sleepy. Ed noticed right away and motioned me over to lie down with him, spooning on the couch. I shut my eyes just for a second and...

The first thing that registered was the feeling of calloused fingers brushing hair off of my forehead. I had this intense feeling of longing, like I had just been reaching for something just out of my reach, and then it was gone. Was I awake, or dreaming? I felt disoriented. Oh, holy shit. I fell asleep next to Ed on the couch...and he's still here.

“There she is,” he said with a sort of chuckle as my eyes opened and I assessed the situation. I was pretty sure I fell asleep as the little spoon, but now I was turned inward, facing Ed, our legs intertwined, my arms laced up and around him.

“Hi”, I said with a yawn.

“Some dream you were having, yeah?”

“Huh?” Ugh, my brain was foggy.

He cracked a smile, just a half grin, one side of his mouth tugging upward. His ocean blue eyes twinkled.

“I was just saying, you must have been having a great dream….you were, ah, a bit vocal in your sleep.”

Shit. I became acutely aware of the slight dampness between my legs. No….

“What? Did I say something? Oh my God, I am so embarrassed.”

“I wouldn't really call it talking...but there were a lot of adorable little mewing sounds..and, ah, little tiny moans…” he said, dropping the hard 't’ sound in little like he was prone to do.

I pulled my arms out from our cozy embrace and covered my eyes. How fucking embarrassing.

“Shit. I am mortified. I didn't even mean to fall asleep…”

He pulled my hands down from my face and planted a big kiss on my forehead.

“Don't worry about it. It was pretty adorable, actually.”

“How long was I out?”

“About an hour, I reckon.”

“I guess last night caught up with me. I never, ever fall asleep while the TV is on usually.” Nor do I normally dry hump someone's leg in my sleep, but I left that thought in my brain.

He closed his eyes, then, and his pretty pink lips came and landed on mine. He pulled my body in closer to his.

“What do you say we hit the hay, properly? This sofa isn't too comfortable. Let's go up to bed.”

“You want me to spend the night?”

“Yeah, well, if you want to? It's okay if you d--”

“No, it's ok, we can do that. I probably should run home and grab some PJ’s though.”

“Oh, you can borrow something of mine to sleep in, love, let's go upstairs.”

We untangled our limbs and got up from the couch. Ed clicked the television off and gathered up the empty wine bottle & glasses as I stretched my arms upward, and rolled my neck back and forth a bit, I was a bit stiff from the sofa.

“Want a glass of water for your night stand?” He asked.

“Yes please,” I replied.

“I'll get this then, why don't you head upstairs and find something to sleep in? Help yourself to anything.”

He deposited our stemware next to the sink, opened a cabinet, grabbed down two glasses, and strode over to the fridge and began to fill the first glass with ice. I turned and walked up the stairs, feeling the plush carpet between my toes. My stomach was in knots, my nerves kicking in. I really hadn't slept in bed with someone else in...shit, a long time? In the few short-lived relationships I had had, we always hung out at his place and I always went home, no matter how late it was.

But then again, I felt comfortable with Ed. Clearly. I was honestly still shocked that I had even fallen asleep with him downstairs on the couch. Very unlike me.

I pulled on the top dresser drawer, finding it stuffed full of boxer briefs. Hmm, okay. Next drawer was all tee shirts. I peeked at one of the labels, a size Medium. Probably not the best idea, I wanted something to cover my ass at least. I walked over to the large walk-in closet and pulled a soft, long sleeved flannel shirt in various shades of blue from a velvet hanger. I undid my jeans, shimmy-ing them off, and pulled my plain white tank top off over my head. I unclasped my nude bra and off that went too, I kicked my clothes up into a pile and shrugged on the flannel. It was just right, me being only 5’2, it came down to about mid thigh. The sleeves were a bit long so I cuffed them up once. I pulled together all the buttons, then thought twice and undid just the top two. I was wearing white lace boyshort panties, luckily, and not a thong.

Ed came in the bedroom door, “Solid choice, love, that's my favorite shirt. Not much use for it here in the blazing fucking heat, though, for me at least. Looks good on you.”

“Thank you,” I beamed. “Do you have a spare toothbrush by chance?”

“Um, I'm not sure… I'll check.” He set the glasses of water down on the dresser and headed into the bathroom. I could see him pulling drawers open at random, shuffling through each one's content. “I guess I don't, sorry. If it doesn't gross you out, you can use mine? I don't mind.”

Luckily I'm not a germaphobe. “That will be fine, thank you.” Ahem. So proper, all of a sudden. I joined Ed in the bathroom, standing in front of the sink while he wet the toothbrush and squeezed some Crest out for me. He handed me the toothbrush with a wink and I went to work on brushing. Meanwhile, he was back in the bedroom, turning on the gas fireplace. I lost focus on brushing, though, when I saw him strip down to just his boxers. Oh. Those knots were back in my belly again. I rinsed my mouth and tapped his toothbrush off, leaving it on the side of the sink

He came round to my side of the bed (“my side??” what the fuck, K) and pulled the corner of the white duvet back, patting the grey sateen sheets. “All set for you, love”.

I climbed up into the king sized bed, pulling the pretty duvet up to my chin. I watched Ed take up place in front of the bathroom sink and brush his teeth, too, it sounded like he was humming something. I couldn't take my eyes off of him; I hadn't seen him shirtless before and had no idea that his entire chest was covered in the same bright ink that danced up and down his arms. He finished up in the bathroom, switching the light off in there and then the bedroom, and walked around the bed to climb in the other side.

I flipped over to lie on my other side, facing him, and he stretched his arms out toward me, so I scooted closer. He wrapped me up in a tight embrace and inhaled deeply, nose buried in my hair.

“Mint shampoo? This smells nice.”

“Yeah, you guessed it.”

“Kendra?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for staying with me tonight.”

“Is it weird if I tell you I'm a bit nervous? I guess I'm just so used to sleeping alone. But.. I like this,” I said, tracing the outline of his shoulders and biceps with my fingers.

“I know what you mean. I feel that way too. Would you... if you want, you could call me Teddy, y’know.”

I reached up to his scruffy head of hair and twirled one of his curly copper locks between my fingers.

“Teddy,” I said, trying it out, “I like that.”

The fireplace was blazing on in the corner of the room. But that wasn't the only burn happening here. I felt that burn through every inch of my body, yearning for this man, here right in front of me. It was like, just being that physically close to him had lit a fire in me. A fire that hadn't burned in a long time.

I kissed him, then, hard and longingly. He was quick to reciprocate, pushing his tongue into my mouth, exploring. His hands came up my shirt but stopped at my waist, just grabbing and pulling me into him even closer yet. I took initiative and pushed him so that he was lying flat on his back, climbing on top and straddling him.

He broke our kiss. “Kenn,” it sounded like he was protesting. “I don't want, I mean, I didn't ask you to stay the night, expecting this..”

“Shhhh,” I sat upright now, directly at the top of his pelvis. The fireplace gave just enough light in the room that I could make out the brilliant tattoos on his chest. “I know, Teddy,” I said, tracing the outline of the great lion’s mane. “Do you want me to stop?” Damn girl, you bold.

He was wide eyed, looking up at me in the glow of the flames.

“No.”

I leaned back down and planted a messy, fast kiss on his perfect pink lips. I then moved to his earlobe, leaving a little bite there and sucking it before moving back to his mouth. I could feel his bulge growing hard beneath me, and his hands were roaming my body freely now, grabbing onto my hips and giving me the friction I so desperately wanted.

“Will you sit up a bit for me?” I asked at a whisper, grabbing a pillow and tucking it behind him. His torso was propped up a bit now, those delicious lips even closer to me. His hands moved from my hips and up the hem of his soft flannel shirt, fingers grazing over my stomach and floating up to my waist.

“Can I unbutton this?” He asked.

I nodded, biting my lower lip. Hearing him ask that out loud had my blood just absolutely buzzing.

He started with the bottom button, moving ever so fucking slowly, up, up to the top. The valley between my full breasts just barely exposed. He took my right hand with both of his and slid it out of the cuff, tugging down gently to free my arm. The flannel shirt fell away from my right shoulder then and he quickly repeated the process on the other side.

My breasts were fully exposed now, I could feel those little sensitive buds beginning to harden under his intentful gaze. He brought his hands up to them, cupping them, so gently. He brushed his thumbs over my nipples simultaneously, sending a lightning rod through the nerves of my body right down to my core. His fingers expertly rubbed, and skimmed, and tugged, while my mouth fell open with barely-audible moans spilling out.

My hips were acting of their own accord, grinding out big circles over his pelvis. I could feel his rock hard cock so easily through my lace boyshorts and the thin fabric of his boxers.

“Teddy,” I closed my eyes and tilted my head back.

He took his hands from my breasts then, placing one on the small of my back and wrapping the other one behind my shoulder, pulling me down to him. He kissed me, hard, on the mouth, breathlessly muttering “You are so beautiful,” and proceeded to cover my whole neck with kisses, moving down my chest, planting those warm, wet lips on every square inch of my tanned skin. He brought his hands up to the indent of my waist and then took a breast into his mouth, expertly sucking and twirling and nibbling over my hard nipples. Another moan escaped my lips as he moved his mouth to the other breast, quickly using his hand to replace where his lips had just been.

Fuck, this boy was good with his fingers. And mouth. And oh, he's pushing back up into my pelvis now as I'm spreading circles over his. I am so aware of my slick wetness down there. Ed finishes sucking on my hard nipple and brings his lips up to meet mine, opening my own mouth with his skilled lips and tongue, a soft moan spilling out of his mouth this time.

I sit back up, pushing off of his sexy, strong chest and straddling him properly again. For a moment, his eyes just glare into my own and I can almost see him thinking, considering his next move or searching for the right words to say.

“Penny for your thoughts, sir?” I say, half teasing, half really curious as to what's going on behind those beautiful baby blues.

“I'm... just.. thinking about how it was my idea to take this slowly, and now you're practically naked in my bed, on top of me... panties soaking wet,” He brushed his thumb over the sheer fabric of my panties, right over my slit. “and you're so fucking beautiful, and cool, and now I want to do anything but take it slow.”

“Oh.” Yup. I got nothin'.

“I want to do right by you, Kendra, but I so badly want to make you feel good, right now, too.”

My heart like, basically just stopped. I must have looked like deer in the headlights, I could see the worry growing in his eyes every second that I was silent. He openened his mouth again, probably to apologize, but I quickly put a stop to that by bringing our lips together, yet again, trying to put all of my feelings into a single kiss, like some unspoken conversation, and I think Ed felt the same way too. He rolled to the side and, hands on my hips, guided me to lie flat on the mattress, his heavenly fucking body coming on top of mine.

His weight on me felt so good, so right. His mouth is everywhere, biting my ears, suckling on my neck, planting wet kisses all over my decolletage.. my hands come up and grip is muscular back, trying to touch every square inch of him to me. I'm moaning now, freely, as his hands grip up and down my body from my breasts, to my hips, up to my waist, over my stomach, and travel back downward, Ed shifting his whole body down towards my center, leaving kisses the entire way.

My entire body felt fucking electric.

Ed sat back on his heels, gently pulling my pelvis up into his lap, kind of at an upwards angle. Holy shit. He traced the outline of my panties, fingers dancing over the edges. He looks up to me, like he's waiting for the green light, and I nod my head, yes, it’s all I could muster.

He reached back to grab my ankle, bending my leg and bringing it forward, leaving little kisses all up and down my calf in the process. Putting that foot down flat on the bed, he took in my other ankle and does it all over again. I am silently whimpering at this point, the anticipation just fucking killing me. I have never been this turned on and he’s barely even touched me.

He hooked his fingers around the elastic of my panties and lifted my ass a bit, peeling away the white lace fabric from my body. My panties were stuck around my thighs now, as he picked up my left knee, threading the panties off around my foot, and wrapping my leg around his waist. Once more, same on the other side, I watched him tuck my ankle snugly around him, finally free of the last piece of fabric covering me. I tightened my grip on his torso a bit and heard a little groan escape his lips. He scratched the top of my thighs lightly, and brought his hands up to cover my lower belly, his thumbs just barely resting on my mound.

There was something so sensual about it… just barely enough light in the room for me to watch him, gazing so intently down there, at me. He moved one of this thumbs down to the bottom of my wet slit, dragging upward so slowly, barely dipping in, opening me up just a bit... and with that, it was fucking real, and suddenly the logical side of my brain turned on, realizing that I could count on one hand the number of times that I’d actually been able to come from someone else stimulating me. I froze.

“Teddy,” I choke out. “Wait.”

His pretty pink lips were parted, still staring straight down. He stopped immediately, bringing his gaze up to mine.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to… I, um, I have a hard time.. getting there.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Kenn, that doesn’t matter to me,” Another beat passes. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” I answer, without thinking.

He swept down to kiss me, no tongue, his lips just pressing up against my own. He brushed the hair off of my forehead, his chest covering my own, and I couldn’t get over the feel of his skin on my skin. He moved his mouth over to the side of my faced and whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry about it, I’ve got you, love.”

I wrapped my fingers up in the tousled locks on the back of his head, pulling his forehead to my own, staring up into those endless eyes. I nodded again, giving him a non-verbal yes.

He sat back on his heels again, making direct eye contact with me, biting his bottom lip, and shifted his gaze back down to my glistening nether regions.

He laid one hand flat on my pelvis, kind of grounding me. And then that thumb was back on my slit, dipping in, running bottom-to-top, again and again, deliriously slowly. I pushed my pelvis up towards him, my body reacting on its own, seeking friction. Ed added another finger into the mix, slipping further into my folds. It was both torture and bliss; his almost-rough fingertips just exploring me so patiently. I watched him watching himself touch me and holy fuck that was such a turn on, I thought about feeling self-conscious about it, but the horny side of me won that battle out pretty quickly.

His thumb came up to the top of my slit and rubbed slow circles in one direction, then back the other way. I grabbed fistfuls of sheets on either side of me and rocked my hips up towards Ed again. “Mmm, more, baby,” I muttered. He smirked then, and sunk his perfect middle finger all the way inside me.

I flexed my feet out, toes curling in, taking in the sight of this sexy man, all strong shouldered and rainbow design. Ed switched hands, removing his left from my pelvis and sinking his thick thumb into my opening, and picking up the rhythm on my clit again with his right hands, small circles and then bigger ones and back to small, all clockwise now.

“God, you are so fucking sexy,” Ed muttered as he slipped another finger inside me, picking up the tempo a bit and adding a little twist into his movements.

He was so steady, unwavering, so focused on what he was doing, and I bucked my hips up and pointed my toes and felt a faint warmth building low in my body.

I closed my eyes, letting my head fall to the side. “Fuck,” I whined, “just like that, yeah,” The warmth was building, Ed's fingers slipping in and out of my wet opening in perfect time with that rhythm he was playing in circles over my clit, he had me balanced out on this precipice of pleasure. The warmth was turning into a dull ache now, my back arched, and Ed was right there with me.

He sped up his rhythm just a tick and it intensified everything. “Baby…” I groaned out, turning my eyes back to see him watching my face now, biting on his lower lip again. Fuck.

He switched to a 'come hither’ motion, then, stroking my walls in just the right spot, and I fell over the edge instantly. I cried out, contorting my torso, squeezing my legs around his waist, still holding onto the sheets with my small fists for dear life.

I rode out the small aftershocks, stunned, and loosened the grip I had on Ed with my legs. I looked up to see the Smirk™ plastered across his face. He set my pelvis down, slipping out of his sat-back position and came to lie down next to me, threading his arms around me and nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. I was still practically panting.

“That was… so good, Teddy, I can't believe I --”

“You are incredible, woman, come here.” and he nuzzled in closer, pulling the duvet back over our bodies. I turned to lie on my side, letting him be the big spoon again. I was very aware of his penis, hard, against my back. I wanted very much to make an introduction, but before I knew it, my heavy lids closed and sleep took me once again.

#ed sheeran #teddy sheeran #ed sheeran smut #ed sheeran fan fic #ed sheeran mature fan fic #smut

54 notes · View notes