Thank you for 2,000! We hope you enjoy! - The Admins
Summary: Jeon Jungkook is the leader of a Mafia. He’s a drug lord, rich, and a murderer. And you? You’re just (Y/N). But to Jungkook you’re his everything, and he will do anything he can to keep you safe.
Type: A bit of everything
Warnings for this part: Guns, SMUT!, Blood, shitty fight scenes (i tried bro), language, drugs, angst
You had just gotten off of work and headed over to Jimin’s place. You hadn’t talked to him all day and decided you’d pay him a surprise visit. You used your key to unlock the door and set your bag down on the small table next to it.
You had barely taken a few steps into the house when you heard a moan, Jimin’s moan. ‘He’s probably masturbating’ You thought, it wasn’t the first time you had walked in on him jerking off.
He did it when he was impatient and you’d always come home at just the right time to be able to help him. You smiled to yourself and slipped off your shoes before walking towards his door at the end of the hall.
As you went to grab the handle you heard another moan, a woman’s moan. ‘Is he watching porn?’ You thought and grabbed onto the knob.
“Oh Jimin! Right there!” A woman cried, you could tell he was having sex with her, the noises of skin slapping got louder.
You opened the door and saw a sight that you would never forget. A woman was underneath Jimin, her legs were out and he was thrusting into her quickly while letting out those grunts that made you so wet. But you were just disgusted. Hearing those noises made you want to puke.
You watched in shock as he used a hand to grab onto her breast and squeeze her nipple while the other moved down and he used his thumb to rub her clit. His back was facing you and she had her eyes closed, she was moaning too loudly to even hear you walk into the room.
She was right on the brink of her orgasm when you almost screamed.
“REALLY JIMIN?!” He had one last snap of his hips that made her orgasm before he quickly pulled out and stared at you. You watched as she squirted all over him and the sheets and gagged.
“Wait! (Y/N)!” He got up and followed you as you ran down the hallway. His dick was red and hard, standing against his lower stomach but that was the last of his worries.
“I-I can explain.” He stuttered, surprised that he had been caught. This wasn’t the first time he was fucking another girl, this had been going on for a while. Hell, he had been having sex with multiple girls all at once, he had been getting bored of (Y/N).
You shook your head and said nothing while tears streamed down your face, your hands shook as you grabbed your shoes and slid them on your feet.
“(Y/N), listen.” His hand reached out to grab yours and you flinched and slapped his hand away.
“Don’t touch me! Don’t…” You grabbed your bag and he ran a hand through his hair.
“Please! Let me talk.” You could barely see clearly from the tears in your eyes.
“No, I don’t wanna hear it.” You opened the door and ran down the hallway to the elevator, quickly closing the doors before Jimin could make it to you.
You ran out of the apartment complex, barely making it out of the doors before throwing up on the grass. Everything you had eaten came up and you were dizzy while walking to your car.
You took a minute and wiped away your tears and went home, never speaking a word to Park Jimin again.
11 months had passed since you’d said a word to Jimin. You came back the next day, collected all of your things you had left at his place, giving him back the shirts you took from him and walked passed him and didn’t look back.
3 months after he had cheated, you went on a date with Jungkook and things went on from there. You had met Jungkook through Jimin and became your best friend. Whenever you and Jimin argued, you’d step outside and call Jungkook, letting out all of your problems.
You haven’t had sex since the last time you and Jimin had slept together and that was nearly 3 weeks before you caught him cheating.
Jungkook was rich, but you weren’t dating him for the money. When you met him, he looked like complete shit. Hair messy and unwashed, his eyes were bloodshot and he had bags underneath them. His shirt was wrinkled and he had dried up tears on his face. He walked in on you and Jimin watching a movie and told Jimin about how his girlfriend had broken up with him.
He asked you on a date when you were complaining about being tired of being alone. You were tired of staying in bed all the time, crying because of your heartbreak. But Jungkook, he was everything you wanted and more.
Jimin was great at first, but near the end of your relationship, you barely talked to each other anymore.
Jungkook made you feel special, he got you what you want and simply asked for your love in return. You made it clear to him that you didn’t want the money, he was what you wanted.
And now you were here today.
Another day on the job. You lead another family to a table and handed them their menu’s. A dad, and two children. You politely smiled and rejected him when he asked you out on a date, stating you had a boyfriend.
He smiled in understanding and proceeded to talk to his children. ‘If only more people here were like that’ you thought to yourself while going to hand their orders to the chef.
Most of the men that went here were with their girlfriends and snuck over you on their way to the bathroom, trying to cop a feel.
A few girls had even hit on you before, they stared and bit their lips, admiring your body from head to toe. But you also rejected, again stating you had a boyfriend.
When your shift was over, you said goodnight to everyone and made your way home to your apartment. You said hello to the friendly old lady who was working on opening her door, her poor old shaky hands struggling with putting the key in the hole. You watched as she walked in and then walked into your apartment. You turned on the lights and kicked off your shoes, stretching before laying down on your couch.
You pulled your phone out of your pocket and read the text messages from your friends and quickly replied before shooting a text message to Jungkook.
‘Just got off work. How was your day?’
Jungkook was currently at one of his clubs with Jimin, Yoongi, and Namjoon. Jimin was dealing cocaine, laughing and joking around with one of their clients. Jungkook was sat in a chair, silently watching everyone closely.
Yoongi had a girl on his lap, she was grinding against him while they made out. Music was blaring and some other people were dancing.
Hoseok was in another room, having sex with one of his usual girls. When the DJ would switch the songs, you could hear their moans, she was literally screaming.
Jungkooks phone vibrated when he noticed something odd. One of his clients had a gun tucked into his belt, which was strictly against the rules. No one but Jungkook and a few others were allowed to carry a gun on them while at the clubs.
Jungkook got up and walked over to Jimin, putting his hand on his shoulder and tapping his finger 3 times. This was their signal. Jimin shrugged his arm off of his shoulder and when they made eye contact, Jungkook’s hand made it’s way to his gun.
Jimin’s hand reached into his pocket and wrapped around the handle of a knife and by this time their ‘clients’ had noticed what they were doing.
In a second, guns were raised.
Yoongi and the girl had broken up, he was stood next to her, gun raised and she had one in her hand also. Namjoon was aimed at the one who was aiming at Yoongi.
Jimin made the first move and quickly stabbed his knife into the man’s gut that was standing behind him. His arm shot up, hitting his arm so the gun went off and the bullet went into the ceiling.
Jungkook quickly shot the next two, one of their bullets grazing his shoulder. Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, and the other female shot at a few other people. Jungkook shot at their leader but missed.
He knocked the gun out of Jungkooks hand and he was just left with his hands. The man named Sooyoung stabbed the knife into Jungkook’s thigh, and Jungkook yelled at the pain.
Jungkook punched him in the jaw knocking Sooyoung back. Jimin had just finished pulling his knife out of the chest of another man and threw it at Sooyoung, and it landed in his shoulder.
Blood was soaking Jungkooks pant leg as he pushed Sooyoung down to the ground and straddled his waist so he couldn’t move. He pulled the knife out of his shoulder and stabbed him right in his chest.
Sooyoung’s white dress shirt was soaked with blood and Jungkook got off of him, wiping his forehead but smearing blood on it. Jimin opened the door and yelled for everyone to get out so he and the others stayed behind to clean.
“Jungkook, what happened?” Yoongi asked, looking over his body.
“Stab wound to my thigh, I think that’s it.” He replied while staring at the dying body below him. Sooyoung coughed and tried to reach for a gun that was laying on the ground but Jungkook kicked it away with his foot and the remaining life left in Sooyoung slipped away.
Jungkook took a seat and Namjoon already knew what to do. His hand wrapped around the handle tightly and the other pushed on Jungkook’s thigh.
“Three.. Two..” Namjoon didn’t even get to one before he pulled the knife out and immediately started applying pressure.
“Fuck!” Jungkook yelled and grabbed onto the arms of the chair. Namjoon’s hands were covered with blood and he bit his lip as Jungkook struggled to stay conscious. Yoongi grabbed onto Jungkook’s sleeve and ripped it so he could tie it around his thigh tightly.
“I need to see (Y/N),” Jungkook said standing up and using the wall to stay stable.
“What Jungkook? No, you need medical attention.” Namjoon said, stepping in front of the door.
“Let me see (Y/N)!” He said sternly before pushing Namjoon out of the way and limping out to his ride. He paid someone to drive him to her apartment and by the time he arrived it was 2 in the morning.
A tired (Y/N) opened the door and she was in one of his t-shirts. “Jungkook?” You gasped and pulled him inside quickly.
”(Y/N), I need help.“ He avoided your question and you led him into the bathroom and slowly stripped him of his clothes.
He sat there in his boxers as you wiped away the blood from him and grabbed your first-aid kit from underneath the sink. You used some alcohol to clean where the bullet grazed his shoulder and you almost cried when you saw his thigh.
“Jesus.” You whispered and very slowly dabbed the alcohol onto it in which Jungkook tried his best not to yell.
“I need stitches.” He could barely speak and you nodded and grabbed a needle and thread and tried the best you possibly could.
When you were finished, Jungkook was laid in your bed and you were cleaning the blood in the bathroom.
“You doing okay?” You asked when you stepped back into the room.
“For now.” He nodded, the pain meds were finally kicking in.
“Now, tell me what the fuck happened to you.“
He said nothing.
You crossed your arms over your chest and looked patiently at Jungkook.
I had to doodle something from the latest chapter of Serendipitous Fate by @skaylanphear cos it gave me so many goddamn feels and if you aren’t reading that fic then you are missing the hell out like you don’t even know ok
Here’s a sketch for day 2 ! I’ve been meaning to do a proper drawing of this AU for a while but I didn’t do it justice rip 88,) .
Since I didn’t have anything else good I figured I’d add the swap AU Demon Days cover I did a bit back lmao.
I HOPE IT ALL LOOKS OKAY I M TRYING
I’ll probably draw more for this AU at some point tho.
When you put the finishing touches to something you’ve been working on for days and it looks completely different and you’re like “holy shit who made this?? this is so nice???”
Anyway! These pieces and all the other ones will be up for sale tomorrow! If you want to see them all just search the tag “gingerandstitches” on my blog (sorry, I’m on mobile!), for the rest just stay tuned and I’ll put info here! 😙💖
“When I was a little girl, my dad would read the paper every Sunday, and my mom would read a book nearby. And I would sit at the top of our stairs and just watch them. Watch them be still together. And when I think of being in love, that’s what I picture – days like that. And nights like this.”
Synopsis: You’re not exactly what your officemates think of you.
Note: Not entirely happy with how this came out but meh whatever. Might take a while for me to update DDHTK so have this one first lol. Hope you guys enjoy!
Italicized paragraphs are flashbacks. ;)
“Good mor— damn, girl! Did you
work on your presentation all night?!”
You shook your head as you
chuckled at Sherry’s comment when you settled down in your cubicle beside hers.
She stared you down with a look of worry and you simply couldn’t blame her for reacting
that way. The dark circles under your eyes were well, darker than usual— you
did look like you haven’t slept in days. Your hair was still slightly damp and
was unruly since your alarm failed to wake you up and cut your preparation time
about twenty minutes short.
“You could say that.” You told
her with a shrug, taking out your laptop and switching it on.
Sherry let out a sigh, “Such an
overachiever. Well, I think you should prepare before the big boss arrives.
You’ve got…” she trailed, looking at her watch to check the time. “Exactly
fifteen minutes to fix yourself.”
You silently cursed and hurriedly
brought out your mirror and make-up bag. Your big pitch was today and you
didn’t want to show up in the conference room looking like complete shit. Plus,
showing up unprepared would only cause you a lot of negative feedback from your
boss, Negan. And being the good employee that you were, that was the last thing
you wanted to happen.
Hey guys! 😊 how long has it been? We are so terribly sorry we’ve been inactive and god we are just so sorry. We just weren’t feeling the sparks for writing, and we would never want to post something done half-assedly because you bby’s don’t deserve that. 🤗 so admin kenvy is working on the masterlist right at this moment and it’ll be up soon! yaaaaay, also this has been a request from a lovely anon. girl you thirsty. I worked on this at school because guYS IM PRETTY FUCKING SURE YOU’VE ALREADY SEEN KWON SOOMYOUNGS NEW LOOK LIKE BITCH SPEAR ME WITH YOUR DICK- anw so i just got so inspired to do so, and don’t worry guys! We will definitely grant all of your requests, please stay pretty and patient ❤️ alSO OH MY GOD GUYS 500+ FOLLOWERS, OUR FAMILY IS EXPANDING!! akdnkdndosnssidb. 😍 thank you so much for loving this little blog of ours, we love ya’ll so fucking much. What do you think we should do for reaching 500+!?
You are always free to ask us stuff you’re curious about, or if you have any problems we would love to help 😘 tell us abt your biases, your fantasies, be free and don’t hesitate. ❤️
-admin kate x
Also, for the lovely anon who had requested this, thank you so much for being patient ❤️ if it’s alright, i kinda made this one kinda different from the others, it’s short but i hope it’ll tug your heartstrings even just a little. But then again i’m so genuinely sorry if it isn’t to your taste but i am satisfied. Hope you enjoy bby. 😘 til next time, thank you for requesting! enjoy. 😉
warning: contains fluff, daddy kink and all that other good shit lol word count: 2,400+ disclaimer: the gif is not ours, ctto.
Title: Don’t You Cry No More
Summary: Keith thinks Lance only seems him as a fuck buddy but that’s far from the truth.
Notes: some good ol’ Klangst. It’s good for the soul. There is no smut in this. Some language I think? I’m not sure.
Keith rests his back against his door. He wipes at the tears falling down his face. No, if Lance doesn’t care, he doesn’t care. Keith quickly stands up and goes to his bathroom. He looks in the mirror. His eyes are puffy and red. He looks like shit to be completely honest.
Hunk knocks on his door and with a cheerful voice says, “dinner’s ready!” Keith groans. He doesn’t feel like facing his team. He doesn’t feel like facing Lance. If Lance saw him, he would know just how much his words have affected him. Keith can still hear them.
“God, Keith! You can’t say something like that!”
Keith stared wide eyed at the taller boy. He fought the tears that started to prick his eyes. He refused cry in front of Lance.
“Keith, you can’t think that we would be an item.”
But that’s exactly what Keith had thought. Keith had thought their late night talks full of soft words and desperate kisses meant something. He thought it meant that Lance wanted to be with him. He thought Keith liked him.
Lance cut him off, “Keith, you don’t love me, I don’t love you. We’re basically strangers. You’re just something to relieve tension.”
That’s was the last straw. Keith wasn’t just upset, he was furious. Keith wanted to yell at Lance. He wanted to scream and cry and make Lance feel as shitty and as broken he did. But he didn’t, and he wouldn’t.
Keith had stared straight into Lance’s eyes. “Go fuck yourself,” he said angrily. He had turned on his heel and walked out.
Keith hauls himself into the dining hall ten minutes late. Lance is there sitting between Hunk and Pidge with a smile on his face.
Fake. Keith could tell the difference between Lance’s smiles and he hated that. Lance always smiles really big and obnoxiously just to oversell the point that he is happy when he really isn’t. A scowl makes it’s way onto Keith’s face as he walks to his seat between Shiro and Pidge.
Shiro nudges Keith with a questioning look. Keith shakes his head and tightens his jaw. He looks down at his food and Shiro sighs, turning back to his conversation with Coran and Allura.
Keith takes several bites of his food before he deems himself full and excuses hisself from the table. Keith decides a long shower is just what he needs. He grabs his towel from a pile in his floor and strips down to his briefs.
Keith turns on all the hot water and some cold water. He sits under the stream and stares at the wall in front of him. Keith can’t tell if it’s water or tears rolling down his face, and at this moment he doesn’t care.
Keith feels like screaming. He feels like punching Lance in the jaw and then collapsing his arms. He wants Lance to comfort him and tell him everything would be okay.
Keith was too busy to hear the footsteps approaching and the bathroom door flinging open. He doesn’t hear another shower turning on.
All he can focus on is Lance. His smile. His laugh. His eyes. His personality. His words. Keith let’s out a sob that sounds slightly like a wail. A plea for help.
A wet sound slaps against the tiles as a shower abruptly shuts off. The bathroom door swings open and slams shut. Keith does notice that. Someone knows he was crying in the shower. Someone heard him cry.
Keith waits five minutes before going back to his room. Keith doesn’t bother drying off or changing,he just crawls into bed and shuts his eyes. He breathes steadily and anyone would think he was asleep, but he isn’t.
He gets a knock on his door around 10 pm and he grunts, the person on the other side could take that however they pleased. The door opens slightly and Lance pops his head in.
Keith rolls over onto his other side and pulls his blankets tighter around him. Lance is the only and the last person he wanted to see at the moment.
“Keith, are you okay?” Lance walks all the way in and shuts the door behind him.
“Of fucking course. I’m just tired.” Keith snaps.
“Don’t fucking ‘buddy’ me, Lance. Just leave me alone.” Keith’s voice cracks at the end.
Lance awkwardly stands in the room until he shuffles over to Keith. He hesitates and puts a hand on Keith’s shoulder. Keith doesn’t think and tosses himself into Lance’s arms. Lance is taken aback, but doesn’t hesitate to pet Keith’s hair, trying to soothe him.
“Shh, it’s alright.”
“No! No, it’s not alright. I love you, and you don’t care. You don’t even like me as a friend.” Keith sobs harder into Lance’s chest.
“Keith, you know more about me than anyone else. You can’t think that. I know I said some shitty stuff and I’m sorry.” Lance rests his head on top of Keith’s. “You didn’t deserve backlash for your feelings. I was just… scared.”
“Scared? Why were you scared?”
“Because… because.” A strangled gasp escapes from Lance’s mouth and he holds Keith tighter.
“Take your time,” Keith says nuzzling closer.
Lance takes a deep breath; he breathes Keith in. He loves the way Keith smells, always fresh and clean and a little spicy like cinnamon.
“Te amo,” Lance whispers.
Keith pulls away and looks at Lance with wide eyes. “What?”
“I-I love you, Keith.”
“You can’t just say that, Lance, not after-”
“Keith, I’m sorry. Please believe me. You’re not a fuck toy. I just didn’t want to admit to myself that I fell in love with you. I love your eyes, your personality, the way you smell at all times, that smirk you get when you make fun of me or make a joke. I love how you’re slightly shorter than me and how you’re the embodiment of everything I’ve ever wanted.” Lance had grabbed Keith’s face at this point and is staring him in the eyes.
Keith pulls Lance’s hands from his face and holds them in his lap. He fiddles with them. Lance takes one of his hands from Keith’s grasp and tilts his chin up. “May I kiss you?” He asks. Keith nods.
Their kiss is slow and sweet. Different from their other ones because this one is full of reciprocated love. They break the kiss and stare in each other’s eyes. Keith lays down and pulls Lance with him. Lance strips to his boxers and crawls in bed with Keith. Lance pets and plays with Keith’s hair.
“Yeah?” Keith mumbles with his face pressed against Lance’s bare caramel chest.
“Why is your bed damp?”
“I might not have dried off once I got out of the shower.” Keith smiles.
“Oh. Does that mean you’re naked?”
Keith pauses for a moment. “Yes, Lance, I am.” Lance laughs and Keith joins in.
Their laughter dies down to comfortable silence. Keith yawns letting sleep start to take him over.
“Lance, I love you,” Keith says before snuggling closer to Lance.
Requested by Anon: A Merlin x reader, where the reader had to sleep with a target to get info and Merlin has issues dealing with the aftermath of it when she walks in through HQ the next day looking like it was a rougher night than she’d planned for? “here. got the stuff.” all the angst. and maybe fluff too if you want. Pairing: Merlin x Reader. Fandom: Kingsman Warnings: Slight sexual references. Word Count: 1205
She doesn’t know why, her instincts in control, but Miller and herself, with her partner, need to execute a reverse escape from the bridge.
Miller, though sick, is strong. He hauls Mulder up and they race backward to her utility vehicle. They are u-turning in seconds and as Scully maneuvers opposite traffic on the bridge there is a fireball. The bridge is gone. They cross back to solid land just in time. Hundreds dead. It’s a blink of an eye.
She tracks much of the same sidewalk and road backward as she did forward. She stops only to send Miller up to gather Einstein. He is her sickly henchman.
Einstein comes down with a couple of duffel bags full of shit and Scully is sure when they decide to land somewhere these duffel bags will have whatever she needs to science them out of this situation. Oddly, Skinner ends up in the car, too. Scully will never remember this timeline.
But that doesn’t mean a whole hell of a lot with Mulder dying in the passenger seat of her car.
Get to William.
Where is William?
Who the fuck is William, now at this point in his life?
As she curves and swerves through Georgetown, she stops short. The man in front of her is familiar, and he is blocking their path. He slams the hood of the car with his fists as she screeches to a halt.
“FUCK!” She screams. Does a double take. “GIBSON?!”
He nods and Scully unlocks the doors. He jumps in the truck. A party for six now.
“I’m not immune,” Gibson coughs to her. “But I found you anyway.”
“Why?” Her pulse hasn’t slowed for hours, days even. Since she couldn’t raise Mulder on his cell phone, maybe.
“Because I can find Will.”
Gibson smiles softly in the backseat, in a fever pitch, shakes his head. “Will.” He twists, looks at her solemnly. “Hit the 80 and floor it. Let me know when you need a break.”
Scully silently hopes that there are not many bridges between DC and wherever they are headed. Choke points. The easiest way to take out the populace and strand the country.
Miller coughs and slouches in the back, Einstein passed out against him, drool and snot dripping from her nose. She’s not healthy, yet. Skinner is smushed in the back like a crumpled linebacker. Mulder shivers in the passenger seat, his head lolling and his eyes unfocused, at death’s door. Scully has seen that look before. She’s seen death’s bleary gaze more times than she can count.
Scully floors it. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees him reach for her, and now that they’re on relatively empty roads she grabs his hand like the last grasp on a mountain before plummeting down the side.
She’s taken back to the rear of an ambulance, another decade, another time they both almost died. Only, she’d rather they be covered in yellow digestive enzyme than where they are now, battling Mulder’s enemies from the inside of his body rather than out. His worst demons have always fought them from the inside out.
She hopes her damn estranged brother managed to grab her dog before he hopefully split from DC. She hopes he’s not dead. The brother and the dog.
The contagion is awkwardly insufficient. A believer in all disease but a master of none. Either way, lacking or professional, it will kill you. It is Captain Tripps on acid and right now Stephen King doesn’t seem so entertaining. Scully scans the radio stations. For music, really. The SUV is woefully silent. Miller is wheezing, Mulder is barely breathing, Gibson is tossing back and forth, Skinner is sweating from every pore in his body, and Einstein is hopefully recuperating. There is nothing. There is static. This is the end.
Miller tumbles out of bed unceremoniously. The nightmares since his illness have been unrelenting. Men without faces and rooms full of smoke. What the earthly fuck has he gotten himself into? Recovery is proving to be a chore. His lungs burn and his stomach roils. He has to choke back vomit as he stands over his dick, pissing into the toilet. Wouldn’t want to toss his cookies onto the twig and berries, he finds the energy to smirk.
He looks in the mirror and sighs. He looks exactly like he feels. Like complete shit. The nausea claims him then, and he dives for the toilet, hurling up his empty guts. The past seven days since he pulled Fox Mulder from that shitty house have been nothing but a fever dream.
He hasn’t seen much of anyone since they holed up in a cabin near Jackson, Wyoming. Everyone seemed to have a universal quarantine in effect. He didn’t really come around until two days ago, and even then he’s been unsteady on his feet. His memory is shaky, at best, and at worst, blends perfectly into every nightmare he’s had over the past two weeks.
They’d spent an incredibly tense 28 hours on the road. The Spartan Virus, or as the slowly dwindling internet traffic affectionately dubbed it, “King Leonidas,” wasn’t chasing them. It was simply a gentle stalker, floating in the cabin of the vehicle they drove, participating in every cough and sneeze.
Miller grabs toothpaste and a brush from the medicine cabinet near the mirror. As he brushes his teeth, his memory flashes.
Whispered voices. “Agent Scully, I think we can help Agent Miller but…”
Uncomfortable silence for a moment. “He’s too far gone Dana.”
The world slows and Miller feels his body bounce forward into his seatbelt in the uncomfortable cramped back seat that, in his mind, he has dubbed The Sick Ward.
“Agent Einstein, my PARTNER is in the backseat of this car. And no matter how far gone you think he might be, he can still hear every single word you say. And if you didn’t notice, your PARTNER is in the backseat too. So if you want to stick to the science, and figure out with me where we go from here, then fine, but if you want to keep telling people they are going to die then you can kindly get the fuck out of this car.” Her words are delivered in an icy venom that rocks Miller to his core as he rests his feverish head against the back window.
He is a little pissed that Einstein is so carelessly attempting to piss away the life of a man he stuck his neck out for. He pulled Mulder from a house on the verge of death. He drove Mulder to a bridge and found Scully. He saved Mulder, for now. And he realizes, in that moment, that he’s earned Agent Scully’s complete and wholly devoted protection. His head aches. His eyes water in fever-haze. But he lets his them roll back in his head and closes his lids. He might be okay.
Miller moves the brush across his teeth and hits his tongue. His breath has felt stale and woody for the last few days. The brush scrapes the back part of his tongue and Miller blanches, then gags. He’s no sooner done brushing his teeth than he is throwing up again into the toilet. King Leonidas has made him nauseated and simultaneously lackadaisical. He hasn’t felt like moving from his bed in days.
He stands after launching his insides into the toilet. His dark five o’clock shadow has morphed into a rabid animal on his face. Not a wolf, full and domineering, but a smarmy raccoon. His facial hair is patchy and sarcastic. He hates his patchy beard. It has never grown in full and he’s felt adolescent his whole life because of it.
Miller is once again struck by his inadequacy in this mission he’s engaged himself. He’s a child who broke away from the FBI day tour and printed up a fake badge. He’s prancing around with Liquid Bubbles and a wand in the shape of a Glock 23, but his bullets are no more efficient than soapy water.
He rips open the medicine cabinet and sees a packaged razor and shaving cream. Miller goes to work.
Mulder groans. It’s a sound he’s made so many times in his life he knows instantly he is waking up after some serious anesthesia. He can’t quite force his eyes open yet but his tongue works over his lips in a slick hot mess of spit. God dammit he hates waking up in the hospital.
Truth be told, the only redeeming factor of waking up in an emasculating gown is the fact that he is certain once he opens his eyes, he will be afforded the million-watt Dana Scully smile he knows will be on the other end. The “Mulder, you didn’t die!” smile. It is then he realizes he isn’t in a gown, and he is stark naked under his sheets.
He feels like shit. His head aches and his nose burns and his face feels like a two by four smashed its way into his orbital socket. He wants to vomit but he swallows his loose saliva, realizing he is on his back and he is not one hundred percent he can roll over. He pushes himself from his back to his left forearm, his eyes water and the pooling spit threatens to pour from his mouth to the bed below. As he rolls from one side to the other, his guts swoop and dive uneasily. Mulder has almost never felt worse.
“Sshhhhh… Lay down. Lay back down.”
Her voice. Soft, soothing, a rag up on his forehead. It’s going to be okay.
Her grip on his forearm as he tries to push out of bed. Why did she leave again? It’s been days… months? Since he’s seen her. He feels her cool hand press against his cheek and he urges his eyes open.
His reward is only half what he hoped. It is, at best, a thousand-watt Dana Scully smile, and she’s on the verge of bursting into tears. He flashes back to coming alive from the dead and his stomach sinks.
It takes a minute before he realizes that the sinking feeling isn’t dread. It’s bile and stomach contents. Which he quickly expels all over Scully’s forearm.
She peels away in a flash but it’s too late. She tries to make him throwing up on her a nonchalant event. Like they do this all the time.
Mulder’s eyes are open just long enough to see her frown deepen impossibly, worry etched across her face. She looks every year of her age today.
“Well Scully…” he manages to choke out. “That’s not exactly how I intended to ejaculate on you, after all this time…” he wheezes, groans once more and is out. And his world fades, he is sure he can hear her goofy, full bellied laugh.