Masochist – Eminem/JC Chasez, past JC Chasez/Justin Timberlake

*NOTE: This story does not seek to pass judgement whatsoever.  There is a fine line where kink can evolve into abuse.  This is a story about that fine line.

Chapter One

Eminem cursed as he got out of the limo. “Fucking paparazzi. Fucking award shows. Fucking everything.” He ran his hands down his shirt. He looked over at Dre who nudged him forward. Slowly he made his way down the red carpet, answering questions of the reporters, nodding in all the right places. Funny how being a rebel still means fitting between the lines. Running his hands down his face he walked through the front doors of whatever the hell building they were in this time. `Fuck they all run together,’ he sighed. The young girl led him and Dre and the four other large black men to their seats. He slumped down into his seat. He let out another sigh and Dre looked down at him. “Dude, think about it this way: this is research for future albums.”

Em laughed. “Good point, but fuck Dre, I hate these damn things. They’re all fucking rigged anyways.” Dre flicked him in the head and leaned over to talk to the man on the other side of Em. Continue reading

Advertisements

I Want To Be… – Nick/Eminem

Chapter One

Marshall stared across the bar, the Crown and Coke being watered down by the melting ice from the heat of his hand. His eyes were fixed on the two men leaning too close, smiling too much, blushing, touching. Jealousy and rage sung through his veins.

Oh god, I wanna be that

Marshall ordered another Crown and Coke after determining the last one was lost to the cause. Dre came over and sat down. Tired, guarded conversation between the two men. Dre nudged him. Marshall grunted, “Don’t worry about it, Dre.” The older man just nodded and left the bar stool. Marshall sat and drank, still staring at the two men across the room.

‘Cause I hate to be alone
And if you’re out there with him
somewhere and just about to kiss

JC came up to the bar right next to Marshall and ordered a drink. He glanced over at the rapper and nodded in acknowledgment. Marshall grunted and shifted his gaze back to his prey. Nick sat in the corner still, waiting for JC to come back with the drinks. Continue reading

Friendly Fire – Daryl/Connor, Shane/Murphy, past Daryl/Rick (In Progress)

Chapter One

Five days. That was how long Connor had been staring at the man who had stolen his brother’s face. The two men had barely spoken to each other, save the typical salutations which were only reserved for when they were in front of the rest of the group. But Connor could just not believe what his eyes were seeing.

“Connor, what exactly is ye obsession with that fucker wit’ me face?” Murph asked when they were in the woods alone.

“I don’t know what yer talkin’ ’bout, Murph,” he replied, continuing to pick up the needed wood for their fire that evening. It was a simple task that the brothers had taken on when they joined the group at the rock quarry, stumbling upon Daryl out in the woods. Aside from being extremely awkward around the redneck given his face, he deemed them not a real threat and offered to take them back.

“Ye can’t stop staring at ‘im. I see ye, ye know.” Murphy bent down to grab a large branch, nearly dropping everything he had already gathered, but he wouldn’t let the topic drop.

Connor shrugged. “He looks exactly like ye, Murph. How could I not stare? It’s like he could be yer twin ‘stead of me.” Really, he just found the other man fascinating and he wanted to know more about him and his damn crossbow, but it was so much more than that and he couldn’t tell his Murph that.

 

Continue reading

Magic Man – Zak/Nick/Aaron

Chapter One

Nick started it, really. Or it could have been Aaron. Who brought the weed again? That was definitely Aaron. Yes definitely. And it was good. Zak felt good. He was floating above the bed he was sitting on, joint between his fingers. Nick sat across from him in the desk chair. When he laughed, Zak saw the musical notes come out of his mouth.

Ok, maybe it was Zak that started it.

He wanted to capture those notes. He had never seen musical notes come out of someone’s mouth before. “Aaron, bro, are you sure this shit isn’t laced with anything?” Zak asked.

Aaron lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. “Dude said that it was clean, but man… its some good shit.”

 

Continue reading

To Wrangle a Dixon – Rick/Daryl

Chapter One

The sweat glistening on his skin, dripping down his arms in small rivers did not go unnoticed as Daryl hauled the deer carcass through the gate that Carl and Carol had opened for him. He looked up at Rick as he came through, the sheriff with his hands on his hips just eying the battered man as he walked in, deer dragging behind him. “Lost the truck. Ran out of gas. We’ll have to go back for it. I didn’t think it’d take that much. There might be a leak,” he said matter of factly as he dropped the legs and bent down to inspect his kill. “Meat should still be good though.”

Rick just nodded as several people came running down to help Daryl with the deer. They hoisted it up on their shoulders and hauled it off to be cleaned for dinner that night. The whole camp slowly started to come out of the prison, mumbles being heard from them all. Word spread quickly when Daryl was seen walking up as extra support was needed to fend off the walkers from attacking him and the best meal they had had in weeks. A feast was definitely in order tonight.

 

Continue reading

Vampire – Zak/Nick

Nick rolled his eyes. “You are not a fucking vampire, Zak. Seriously.”

Zak shielded his face from the hot desert sun with his arm up in the air. “I seriously think I’m turning into one, bro. I just can’t take this sun anymore.”

Nick walked over to the older man, pulling his long sleeve black tshirt up. “Well, you’re not burning to ashes, so I think you’ll survive.”

Zak bared his teeth at Nick, yanking his shirt back down. “Careful, I might make you my first victim!”

Rolling his head over to the side, baring his neck, he retorted, “Oh please, Zak! Come suck on my neck!”

 

Continue reading