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legends-live-in-memories · 4 years ago

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Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century

AYO! Day 2 of MGI Trope Tussle! Team Enemies-to-Lovers for the win. I bring you another oneshot. but this time i used 3 prompts like a dumbass.

Fics Masterlist

Daminette Oneshot 4.3K words (no warnings except slight cursing)

Summary:

“Marinette is invited to the Super-Rockin' Wedding of the Century and she needs a date. Alya is both her best and worst wingman.”

Day 2 of MGI Trope Tussle, I used 3 prompts to make this thing: 1. "You don't have to like me, you just need to pretend you do." 2. "I like your costume. You look very cute." "Are you making fun of me?" 3. 'Write about a very unusual wedding proposal.' this is the culmination of all my efforts.

without further ado:

It was the biggest news on the internet. Global sensation, international rockstar, Jagged Stone, was officially engaged to childhood friend turned manager, Penny Rolling. Memes and fan theories stormed every corner of the web. Trending topics including #rockstar_wedding and #RollingStone permeated every social media platform. Guest lists were speculated, dress designers were tagged in every post that even mentioned the words ‘wedding’ or ‘bride’. It was total mayhem but none felt it worse than up-and-coming Parisian designer, M. D. Cheng, privately known as Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

The young adult was up to her neck in design templates, and was drowning in half-baked ideas and sketches. While the internet has only heard about the proposal for a solid two weeks at this point, Marinette was in the know for six months. Jagged Stone had contacted her in advance because he needed her help with the proposal itself.

And what a proposal it was.

Jagged had outlined his idea in simple terms but it was still so mind-boggling that Marinette needed him to draw some visual aids to completely convey his idea. Initially it sounded simple enough but the more the man spoke, the more Marinette felt her brain fry at the mental picture. It first involved recreating a scene from Penny’s favourite movie. Which sounded rather romantic, if you ignored the fact that her favourite movie was Bride of Chucky. Then it involved Jagged dressed as the Tinman from Wizard of Oz. Oh, and the proposal had to happen on Halloween because that was the anniversary of their first date apparently, and based on everything else this plan entailed it might as well have been. Marinette’s role in all of this was to simply re-make the white wedding dress Chucky’s bride, Tiffany, wore because Penny already had the leather jacket to match. Of course she did. She didn’t even want to know how Jagged acquired the Tinman suit. Not her barrel of monkeys.

While many thought Jagged was the eccentric one of the pair, due to his loud personality and being an actual rockstar, the more Marinette worked for the two of them over the years, the more she learned how absolutely wrong they all were. It turned out it was Penny’s idea for Jagged to dye his hair purple, and she was the one to ask him out on Halloween all those faithful years ago. Her calm and collected demeanor was an impressive cover for the absolute weirdo she actually was. And Jagged had planned a proposal that was undoubtedly perfect for her. Regardless of how abso-fucking-lutely bizarre it was.

To each their own and let’s move on.

The set-up for the proposal started with Jagged, dressed as the Tinman, playing the part of Chucky, who begins the body-switching chant from the movie. Everything from that point on was resting on Penny’s love for the movie. Without hesitating, Penny, dressed as Tiffany, and playing her part, knew the lines by heart and immediately began reenacting the scene with Jagged. Her lines involved telling ‘Chucky’ to kiss her while she reaches for a knife that’s supposed to be in his pocket. Instead, as Jagged was still dressed as the Tinman, Penny pulled out a slip of paper. On said paper, the words ‘All the Tinman wanted was a heart’ were written in Jagged’s almost illegible chicken scratch. When Penny was distracted with the piece of paper, Jagged had gotten down on one knee and pulled out the engagement ring. The actual words of his proposal were never actually said because, upon seeing the ring, Penny flung herself into the man, clipping her chin into his metal-plated shoulder, but she wasn’t complaining.

So that was how the proposal went.

Wedding planning started almost immediately since the newly engaged had already picked a theme. And this is where Marinette began to regret every life choice she has made since she was thirteen; starting with opening the mysterious box she found on her desk and ending with agreeing to being the main designer for the Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. One thing that wasn’t well-known but not a secret about Jagged was that he was a superhero fan. He grew up enjoying the fictional ones in his childhood comic books and he adored the real ones he witnessed in his adult life. His song that he dedicated to the teenage Ladybug was only one part of his… appreciation. His hero-worship went so far as to beieve that a hero-themed wedding was appropriate. Or he didn’t, but also didn’t care about adhering to societal propriety and went with that theme anyways. So the Rockin’ Wedding of the Century was now the Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. And twenty-three year old Marinette was incharge of the entire wedding party’s outfits.

Perfect.

As a small mercy from some god, both the bride and groom to-be had a rather short list of people in their parties. Marinette was also able to design appropriate hero-themed outfits for all of them and scheduled them for fittings in the coming weeks. That, surprisingly, was the easy part as there were plenty of heroes to draw inspiration from. However, that wasn’t the cause of her current crisis right now.

No. Marinette was up to her neck in unnecessary designs and ideas because she’s been avoiding one particular contingency in her acceptance of the wedding invitation.

She needed a date.

She needed a date because she had promised Penny that she wasn’t overworking herself and to prove it, she would bring a date to the wedding. Rather than call any of the people who expressed interest in her at some point in time, she designated herself to wallow in her situation and distract herself with designs. In the midst of her one person pity party, her phone rang under the sea of ripped out pages. She scoured for the device and hastily answered before she could accidently send the caller to voicemail.

“Hello?” She didn’t check the caller ID and was delighted at the sound of her best friend answering her.

“Marinette! How’s it going over there?” Alya’s voice was mixed in with the busy street life of Metropolis. She had moved there immediately after high school, snatching an internship with the Daily Planet and attending the local community college. She and Marinette don’t call often due to time differences, but when they do it’s like they’ve never parted. She always looked forward to her calls.

“It’s going great, Als,” if she ignored her current dilemma, then yeah, everything was perfect. “But you wouldn’t happen to have an available bachelor willing to be my date to the ‘Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century’ in your back pocket, would you?”

Alya’s answering laugh was both comforting and teasing and Marinette felt herself missing her even more. What she said next, however, took Marinette by surprise.

“Actually I do.”

“Pardon?”

“Well,” she took a pause to build suspense. “I know a guy who knows a guy. But it’s nothing shady, I swear.”

“That’s not comforting.” Oh god. What has she unintentionally signed herself up for?

“You know my coworker, Jon? The guy who does the photography for all my field work?” Alya had met Jon as soon as she had started her internship. Both of his parents were top journalists at the Daily Planet so he volunteered to act as tour guide for all the new interns. He and Alya, from the exasperated stories Marinette has heard from Nino, got along like a house on fire. If he was involved, Marinette was starting to doubt even further that this was going to end well for her.

“Yes, I know Jon. How is he by the way?”

“He’s fine, but I remember him telling me how he tried to set up his best friend on several dates over the years and how they all ended poorly. He’s as approachable as a brick wall; not just a prick but the whole damn cactus. Or so Jon says.” How does that sound like someone Marinette wanted to bring along with her to the wedding? “But he’s totally your type so I could ask Jon to wrap him up in bubblewrap and send him your way whenever you want.”

“How,” and Marinette said this with a lot of feeling, “is he my type exactly?”

“Green eyes with daddy issues.”

“ALYA!” Marinette was absolutely floored at her bluntness. She wasn’t even sorry about shouting into the receiver.

“Am I wrong? You have a type and he fits that type. Jon mentioned how this guy and his dad hit several roadblocks when they first met. And I’ve seen pictures of him so ‘green eyes’ checks too.”

“That is not my type of guy.” She can’t believe this was how this conversation was going.

“Adrien.”

“I didn’t even know who his father was at the time, Alya.”

“Felix.”

“His dad is dead! That doesn’t count as ‘daddy issues.’” She can feel her cheeks flaming as the call went on. Any hotter and she was going to set her sketchbooks on fire. “Besides, I dated Luka so he doesn’t fit the criteria.”

“He’s an outlier and that’s only because his eyes are blue.” Okay, fine she had a type. “And besides, you don’t even have to date the guy. You only need him to accompany you to the wedding and you both go your separate ways after. No harm, no foul.”

Right. That was true. No strings attached. She could do that.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but,” she held her breath and let it out loudly, ignoring Alya’s chuckle at her dramatics.” Give Jon my number to give this guy. And send his number to me.”

“Wahoo! Look at you, girl,” Alya was hooting and hollering over the speaker and Marinette found herself going along with the theatrics. “Okay, I will. But I gotta go, my cab is here. Bye!”

“Bye! Stay safe. Oh before you go, what’s Jon’s friend’s name anyways?”

“Uh, Damian, I think.” The call ended before Marinette could respond, but it was okay she mused. Tossing her phone onto her couch, she flopped down onto her floor and stared at her ceiling contemplatively.

What could go wrong?

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

When Alya had described this Damian guy as ‘not just a prick but the whole damn cactus,’ she was right. Marinette had been texting back and forth with Damian for a month, and the guy was making this idea seem less and less worth it by the day. Whenever Marinette tried to learn more about the guy, he would ghost her for days on end before replying with a half-assed response at best. She knew nothing about him other than that his first name was Damian and that he was from Gotham. She had no idea how the ball of life that was Jon was even friends with someone like Damian. She asked as much to Alya in their most recent call.

“How did they even meet?” She was pacing the floor plan of her apartment, ready to tear her hair out. “Did Damian bully him in school or something?”

“Apparently their dads knew each other and introduced them,” Alya sounded half awake, stifling a yawn; probably because Marinette had called her at 1 am, Metropolis’s time. “Their brothers being friends also forced them to get along.”

“And that’s another thing!” Marinette had paused in her pacing and was now staring intently at a potted plant in the corner of her living room. Any more rage in her glare and the plant would have wilted and died. “He doesn’t tell me anything about him. I don’t need to know all his personal information, but if he’s going to be flying out to Paris on my behalf, I think I at least deserve to know his last name.”

“Hey, M,” another yawn echoed through the speaker, “I love you, truly, but maybe this could wait for holier day time hours?”

“I guess,” a vindictive part of Marinette felt like this was payback for all those inopportune calls when Marinette was busy with clients. “Sorry for interrupting your sleep.”

“It’s no big deal. But have you tried talking to him about it? If he’s ghosting your texts, try calling him. If he ignores you then too then maybe you should try finding another person to be your plus one.”

“The wedding is in two weeks, Alya!” Marinette partially regrets waiting so long to vent her frustration about the situation but she had tried to tough it out. “I would have much preferred if you were my plus one. You sure there’s no way to convince your parents to skip out on the family trip?”

“Sorry, M. Once the news about the proposal hit the internet, I tried everything. I even tried to use work, saying that I could cover the ceremony for the newspaper. My folks won’t budge though. My dad’s aunt is important to him and he wants us all at the funeral.”

“Right, right, I forgot about that.” Now she felt like an ass. “Send you dad my condolences when you see him again.”

“Will do. Good morning, Marinette. And don’t worry too much about the guy. Everything will turn up great. I can feel it.”

“Thanks, Alya. Good night, get some sleep.”

The line went dead and Marinette let out a rather weary exhale. She had no idea how this was going to work. She pulled up her contacts and searched for what she had Damian saved as.

‘Douche’ flashed on her screen and she hit the call button without remorse. She didn’t care that it was also currently 1 am in Gotham. He didn’t deserve that much consideration from her.

“What?” His voice was gravely and deep. And also really pissed if his clipped tone was anything to go by.

“Damian? Hi, this is Marinette, the girl you’re accompanying to the wedding in two weeks?” Her voice was pitched as if she was dealing with an irritating customer. Fake and polite.

“I know who you are. Why are you calling me at this unreasonable hour?” Fair, but Marinette was still aggravated at him so she wouldn’t concede.

“I’m calling because we need to talk.” She heard him scoff over the line and she felt her blood boil even hotter. She took several calming breaths to reign her temper in. “Don’t hang up.”

“Look,” She didn’t give him a chance to refuse and kept talking, getting everything off her chest. “This wedding is important to me and I promised the bride I would bring a date. After that you can delete my number and we never have to speak to each other ever. You don’t have to like me, you just need to pretend you do.”

“Whatever,” he sounded less annoyed from when he first answered the phone. “I will act as cordial as the situation requires, and nothing more. I also have my attire secured for the wedding and accommodations in Paris already prepared. I will see you at the wedding.”

“Than—” The sound of the call ending interrupted her and her frustration was back tenfold. With a cry in anguish she flung her phone onto her couch and stomped into her kitchen to channel her rage into baking.

Three loaves of bread and a dozen eclairs later, Marinette felt calm enough to finish the final touches on her outfit for the wedding.

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

It was the day of the Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. The Rolling-Stone’s, as they were asking to be called, had kept the ceremony small. Relatively. Only two hundred invited guests, few of which were asked to bring a plus one. Marinette was over the moon at the array of outfits people were sporting. Some chose full-on cosplay while others, like herself, went for more subtle nods to the heroes. In honour of a previous Ladybug, Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, Marinette based her outfit off of Wonder Woman’s uniform, Hippolyta’s daughter. A navy blue sequined halter top bodice that flows into a blood red A-line skirt. She paired it with a thick silver belt, silver gladiator heels rather than boots and broad silver arm cuffs. It was simple but effective. Besides, all attention should be on the bride and groom today.

A tap on her shoulder caught her attention and she turned only to come face first with red with black spots. Ladybug. Someone chose her as inspiration. How flattering. Looking up to see who was wearing the Ladybug-themed suit jacket, she stared at a pair of deep forest green eyes and a sneer to ruin that ridiculously handsome face. She recognized him from the photo Alya had sent some time ago. Damian.

“Hi, Damian,” at least one of them had to be civil and Marinette knew it was going to be her. But the idea that of all the heroes for him to choose from he chose her sent her into poorly stifled fits of giggling. Images of him going ‘Lucky Charm’ and ‘Miraculous Ladybug’ were almost too much to bear.

“I don’t know what’s so amusing about my choice of attire,” his face was starting to flush in similar shades to his jacket and that made Marinette laugh harder. “Ladybug is a well respected heroine and I thought it appropriate to pay homage while in her home city.”

“No. No no. There is nothing wrong with it. I like your costume, you look very cute.”

“Are you making fun of me?” His irritation was rather cathartic for the still giggling woman.

“No, I just didn’t think you would have put that much thought into your outfit for today. You always gave me the impression that you were ready to back out at any time.”

“I made a commitment and I had all intentions to see it through the end.”

“Could have fooled me.” And her snark was back. Now was not the time to pick a fight with the guy, he did fly all the way to Paris on her behalf after all.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” and Marinette wanted to know how he managed to sound so condescending with that statement. “How did you even get an invitation to this wedding anyways? You’re not a celebrity and you don’t look like family either.”

“Actually,” she said it with more force than what was probably necessary but his slightly accusatory tone was just so irritating. “I am the lead designer for the wedding party,” her chest was swimming with confidence at the chance to talk about her job. “I’ve worked with the bride and groom for years; M. D. Cheng, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette will deny to her grave the rush of satisfaction at the absolute gobsmacked look on Damian’s face. A real fish out of water. Mouth open wide ready to catch flies. She wished she could capture this moment forever.

The moment was over too soon because Damian was regaining his composure and slipping into his default stoic expression. He cleared his throat and fixed a look at Marinette. It was rather intense.

“I believe I owe you an apology then.” He looked put-out at admitting something so menial. “I believed you were nothing more than a socialite chain climber.”

“A what?”

“When Jon reached out to me saying that a friend of one of his coworkers needed a date for an event, and when that event turned out to be the wedding of someone of such popularity, I figured you were only trying to increase your own social status by showing up with me on your arm.”

“And you said ‘yes’ anyways?” Marinette was confused but pieces of the mystery that is Damian were starting to fit in place. But something else stuck out as odd to her. “Also, how would you being my date increase my social status anyhow?”

He scoffs before answering. Bitch.

“What? It wouldn’t be the first time one of Jon’s set-ups ended that way. Besides, we’ve had an agreement that I can’t turn down an offer until meeting the person face to face.” Weird deal but some friendships are just like, Marinette supposes. “And being seen with me is enough to make anyone more popular.”

“...And you are?”

“Damian… Wayne…” He spoke as if he was talking to a small child. As if it should be obvious who he was like he was some celeb— Oh shit.

A name had flashed into her mind. On the finalised guest list, Marinette had only seen it once in passing, there was a name that belonged to someone Jagged was rather excited to see. He said the friend was an old college buddy. She remembered that much. She had completely forgotten that ‘a billionaire playboy’ was also attached to the name. Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne. Suddenly everything in the past few months made perfect sense. The cold shoulder, the ghosting, and his prickly disposition. He was overly guarded because he had justified reasons to be. Now she felt like an ass.

“Oh.” Real intelligent, Marinette.

“Oh? What, you didn’t know?” He sounded incredulous at the notion and he had every right to be. Marinette could only shake her head. Words were failing her now, her brain trying to rewrite the memories of every interaction the two ever had.

She was saved from further mortification by a call for everyone to find their seats. The wedding was about to begin.

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

The ceremony was beautiful. Penny’s dress was a silver grey, tied back with a golden belt. Instead of a long train, Marinette had attached a black cape that shimmered in the right lighting. Penny wore a tiara with two peaks to imitate the ‘bat-ears.’ A Batman-themed wedding dress was not something she ever saw herself making, but she was proud at how beautiful and confident Penny looked in it. Jagged was adorn in a royal blue suit with bold red lapels. He also had a matching red cape. His hair was styled in the familiar sleek way Superman wears it. The two made quite the pair.

The reception was a lively affair. Jagged had dedicated several songs to his new wife and they dazzled the crowd on the dance floor. Marinette didn’t pay much attention to the speeches beyond a quick glance at Damian when his own father stepped up to the podium. He had buried his head in his hands, looking like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. A courtesy pat on the back was all Marinette gave to him.

The two hadn’t really spoken much since the revelation that they had completely misjudged each other. The awkward tension was almost palpable. As Marinette was gathering the courage to speak to him, to try and officially clear the air, she was being dragged by one of the bridesmaids onto the dancefloor. It was time for the bride to throw the bouquet. All the unmarried women were being corralled into a tight cluster and Marinette got swept up in the tide.

Marinette wasn’t focusing on the actual game, trying her hardest not to get trampled, when she saw something move in her periphery. Years of being Ladybug had left her with finely honed instincts so she could not be blamed when she immediately jumped and caught the incoming object. The bouquet. She had caught the bouquet. Oh that was just her luck. Deafening squeals of delight brought her out of her own head and she was suddenly being embraced in Penny’s arms. She returned the hug, sharing in her delight, before breaking away to sit down.

“Nice catch.” His voice had surprised her, she hadn’t expected him to speak to her for the rest of the night.

“Uh, thank you. Just lucky, I guess.” Damian didn’t get the chance to respond because he was being dragged by his own father to join all the bachelors in catching the garter. Marinette was equally uninterested in this spectacle and had let her mind wander to other things.

A loud uproar caught her attention again and her eyes zeroed in on Damian holding the tossed garter. He made his way back over to her, dropping himself into his seat gracelessly. The two sat in silence, contemplating the implications of them both catching the garter and bouquet. The games were done purely for tradition’s sake, with total disregard of what it was supposed to symbolise. Still. One’s mind couldn’t help but wander. Minutes ticked passed and Marinette was beginning to wonder if someone was going to talk about the elephant in the room.

“So,” Damian’s voice was slightly strained, like he wasn’t used to being this flustered. It was kind of endearing. Wait what?

“So.”

“While marriage seems far out of reach for right now,” Oh god. He was going to talk about it. “How does dinner sound, next Friday?”

“Wait,” he wanted to spend more time with her? After their disastrous first impressions? “Really?”

“Really. I believe we started off on the wrong foot,” he let out a soft chuckle, almost self-deprecating. “Which isn’t really new for me, but it’s not everyday I meet someone who doesn’t recognise me at first glance. I think you’re someone who I would like to get to know better. If that is something you are also interested in.”

“Yeah,” Marinette knows all about wanting to get acquainted with someone who she’s had a bad first impression of. Just look at her past relationships. Wow, she really does have a type. Damning thoughts for later. “Friday works for me. Seven pm?”

“Perfect. I’ll text you the details then.”

“Wonderful, I can’t wait.”

The rest of the evening was spent in companionable silence with small bouts of conversation in between. They shared a couple dances on the floor and parted ways at the end of the night with budding anticipation for Friday.

As Marinette was preparing for bed that night in the comfort of her apartment, she sent a text to Alya that her friend would see later in the day.

You were right, I do have a type :(

#maribat #daminette #maridami #mgi trope tussle #mgi- server event #enemies to lovers #speedrun #i #like a dumbass challenged myself to use three prompts and i delivered #i hope #i hope yall enjoy #tumblr do me a solid #dont hide my posts #please #im begging #ml x dc #mlb x dc #tumblr please stop hiding my posts #no beta this is tussle

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dylanxmin · 4 years ago

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covered in you ∣ J.JK

while your boyfriend having a casual play date with his mates, you decided to go horny.

pairing; jeon jungkook x reader

genre; smut, porn without plot(bc why not)

rating; m

warnings; teasing, slapping(face;), curse words, biting, light dom/sub tones, dom!jk, sub!reader, handjob, oral(m), cum eating, choking(on dick), drooling, sloppy blowjob, face fucking(:), exhibitionism?, and sorry unedited:(,,

word count; 3k+

a/n; well, yeah.. im little bit turned on by jungkook and basically throwing my eagerness on here. i have no idea about games but here 7 pages long filth for you, lol. i need to make a whole masterlist for sudden!jk thirst bc i always end up writing sloppy smut out of nowhere lol. so hope y’all gonna love this, and feedbacks always, always appreciated. love y’all ♡

It was silent, beside the rhythmed ticks of the clock, hanging lightly on the wall. An annoying reminder for you how many minutes had passed alone on the couch, staring at the screen that vibrates low voices, loud as humming, but enough to tingle behind your head. Warm brown couch almost captured your body as you were sitting on the same spot for more than two hours now. Figures of the body almost printed flawlessly on the wide cushion. Finger tapping at your chin simultaneously with every beat of the clock. You sit there, completely still, annoyed, and highly bored. Weather is now gleaming dark, lightened by the skinny street light. It was different from the moment you placed yourself on the couch. With that, a groan left your throat, how much time had passed got your dander up as you eyed the black door. Tongue licking the base of your lip, curling it between your teeth to nib. Soft sigh left your nostrils when you decided to wait no more. Now, it was time to put up a show.

Of course it wasn’t just because you were annoyed, bored or equally got horny out of nowhere. Well, there is always a little chance of it but there is no need to discuss it.

‘‘No, hyung NO!’’ respectfully discombobulated grunt find you when the hand grabbed the knob of the door. Voice flushing a biten smile at your face, grunt continued, equal a wail. ‘‘Not there of course. ‘M at top. Yeah, yeah, c’mere. I’m waitin’ ’’ cute, desperate whines hurries you further to crush the door right away but with a shaky breath, you let the brisk rousing slip away and turn the knob as humanly as you can. Furious tappings, thin sounds rising, mixing with the boy’s grunts as breaking the silence.

You taken aback.

For a full three minutes you stayed still only to watch, observe the familiar movements of the boy, back muscles excrescently visible under the black tee. And yeah, you stared at them in awe. Freakingly heart stopping act of him that he does unintentionally. Though, it did not stop you from having dark, soaked panties. Shaking the head right to the left to gather the senses back nearly helped you as you closed the door. Not forcing yourself to be quiet as under the headphones you knew he won’t hear a thing, still without knowing why, you tiptoed to get him. Biting the beaming smile, you knelt beside his ridiculously priced game chair. Too oblivious to the action going on right beside him, the dark haired boy grunts once again. Adding another drip to your stomach to gather your arousal as he kicked the table lightly, but it was enough for you. Aggressive enough to hitch your breath.

‘‘I swear to-GOD TAEHYUNG STOP TROLLING THE GAME FOR FUCK SAKE!’’

A sharp greed stirring to your spin when the thick vein throbbed visibly on his neck, and stayed there for the good usage of your cravings. Guess seeing your boyfriend furious over a game is a turn on now. You refuse to be the only one who feels that. There must be more freaks like you. Because it was hot. Staying still as you knelt beside him, just a little bit behind of his chair, it was getting hard not to act obviously. As every passing minute increased the charming desperation, you tried to pressure it back with a brush of your legs. Not much, but it worked enough until the inhuman growl decided to leave his throat. Fuck, what was that again. It sounded beautiful, impelling. As you fucking whimpered loud enough for your ears. Nipples brushing the fabric, as they freed from the tight grip of your bra after the first moment you had that nailing urge. They almost irked back, burning hot behind your tee. And the highly focused boy startled with the touch of your fingers touching timidly at his arm.

‘‘Huh,’’ soft breath mixing under the air, he opened his mouth once, closed, and opened once again but couldn’t utter a voice as focus gathered on the monitor. As angry voice reached you by the headphones, you understood why he couldn’t focus on you. ‘I said boss you fucker-JK what the hell are you doing?’ If you kneeling beside him, darting your eyes on him isn’t enough for him to focus on you, then you would gladly do more. Jimin could suck his own dick as he just ruined the moment you were about to play. Thrill spilling inside, you licked your lips. It sounded like a challenge.

And you accepted.

You giggled at yourself after passing over by his legs to curl into the space left behind his legs. Rather than expected, below the desk wasn’t that suffocating as you thought. Lighted fairly, air semi-fresh, you could hang in here. Well, hornyness weighed more than a good space to stay. It caused no harm, too.

When you looked up after the restless shift of your boyfriend, you witnessed the firm head shake. Even though you love to play the oblivious, you knew what it meant. It was ‘no’, a severe one.

Yet, it was a little too late for that.

You already take this as a challenge and you had no intention to stop now. And by tearing his eyes away from you to land it on the monitor did not help you. Only increased the silly jealousy as you leaned a bit to lift his tee. Tail of the black fabric welcomed the fingers who’s about to pat the tanned skin, light as much, soft as much as they could. Right after fingertips meeting with his muscled stomach, they tighten, scoff blurting out of him as a reflex. Too bad that he can’t do anything about making you stop, as that would mean they could and probably would lose the game and they all will blame him. And Jungkook, never, ever lost a game. Or caused a lost. Also too bad for him as you knew him too deep.

‘JK come to the mid.’ as the request didn’t get the expected return, the same voice echoed once again. Angry this time. ‘Kook you on?’

It took a minute for him to heal himself from the teasing touch you gifted. Darkness lightened by the blue, pink, and shade of the soft yellow, falls onto his face. His façade edged even more with the shades contouring his features, he looked god ish. Knot appeared between his brows after feeling the nails digging, tracing a track down until they reached to his crotch. Dick stayed half hard. Giggling you eyed him, caring his stomach until his muscles eased back. Contrary to the curses you heard through his headphone, you leaned till the tip of your nose brushed his velvety skin on the stomach. Choked breath coming out of him as you started to put soft, caring kisses all the way above the head of his sport short. From left to right, you kissed, wetted with each lick you gave as he tightened his muscles on the thighs.

‘‘F-fuck,’’ he hushed out, too afraid to be heared by his friends because how the hell he could explain this. Exactly, he couldn’t. Murmuring satisfiedly, tongue trailed all the way up, stopped licking when you reached below the belly-button of him. Rather choose to circle your tongue around it, carefully slow. As no one needed to rush anything.

‘You yelled at me but who is trolling NOW JUNGKOOK!’

You had to cover your mouth to prevent your laugh from going out. It was semi funny and semi exciting as the idea of your friends understanding what you were doing and how much you were affecting him. It was harmless to fantasies, but you had no idea how you would feel if it turned real. Still, it was rousing.

‘‘FUCK. O-okay, okay.’’ the captured boy hissed out, fighting with the urge to kick you aside. Both because he didn’t know how you would react, and also, it was feeling good. Your fingers, tongue, lips felt amazing. Warm against his skin. So he didn't intend to lose it so quickly. ‘‘ ‘M just a bit confused. M okay, let’s get it.’’

Yeah, let’s get it.

Fingers digging in theirs and yours one of the favorite spots of him after his doe looking eyes, and easily scrunched nose. His thighs. Thick, built, smooth thighs that you adored so damn much. Hiking up the cloth up, you resist the need of biting them down. Slowed circles were much better at first, and he was already tensed as one of his knees smacked high only to meet with the hardwood. It’s play time so you could take as much as time you want. Plus, he was kinda tied down by the chair so you could use this for the good usage.

‘‘Ah. Nuh, no, not him hyung. FUCK!’’ Jungkook’s guttural cry left his lungs as the soft circles left their place to wet kisses, and then a harsh bite right on his inner thigh. Hard enough to leave a mark, but light, too, as the mark almost disappeared right away. Sloppy, wet licks tried to heal the bruise immediately, as you worked on him. His moans hit the very needy spot, made you clench around nothing to drip even more. Poor core pulsed, pulsed, pulsed until you couldn’t take more and spilled out a weak mewl. It reflected all the desperation you had, and the gamer couldn’t control his mouth before spitting a brutal slut right at your direction. Nails digging deeper on his thighs, you like the way how that word rolled out from his plushed lips. Attacking right into your spine. Yes, yes, yes, yes, was all you could think. You were a slut, indeed. But, of course, his teammates had no idea about what was going on here, as an offended shriek filled the room right after what Jungkook said.

‘DID YOU JUST CALLED ME A SLUT?’ you could recognize Jimin’s extra thickened voice, and you giggled while putting now less soft kisses all over his thigh. ‘JUNGKOOK SPEAK. NOW’ and you bite his flesh once again, right when he was about to answer the man on the line.

‘‘N-Ahhhh! No, no.’’ his fingers curled around your hair immediately, out of conscious. He locked his gaze on you after tilting your head a little back. Expression hardened, his jaw twitched. ‘‘I was talking with the slut that almost killed me.’’ you sobbed as the wave of hunger hit you on the right spot, after his hand left you with a semi slap on your cheek. It wasn’t enough, it didn’t even blushed the skin but you choked anyway. More, more, more of that slap is all you need at the moment. You knew that for sure.

And you will earn those by the work of your mouth, tongue, and palm. As much as help you can get to reach the euphoria you want at the heat of the moment.

To soothe the now reddened flesh inside of his thigh, you licked once, twice and once again. Every touch of the warm, wet muscle earned another squirm by the boy who tried very hard to focus on the game. Though, it was obvious that he was failing because voices rising from the headphones gave the clue of how he sucked at keeping a clear game. No lie, you like the effect you had on him. Has him hissing with a jerk of his knee, brought claps to the back of your head. Like you just win a prize.

It seemed a bit like that.

‘‘No.’’ Jungkook pleaded, eyes not on you but the shake of his head was, indeed, for you. As your fingertips hooked under the waistband of his short, cold tips of your fingers startled him as he was burning, flesh blooming hot. To his dismay, you felt a little rebellious today. Ready to take the risk of getting the kick, as you shoved his short down, forcefully. His clothed parts unfolded slowly. However, the kick never landed, the only reaction was him holding his ass a bit high to help you on making him naked. Muscles straining, his shaft meets with air. Hanging above his legs, all the stimulation had him angry red. Precum glistening on the tip, ready to spill all over his thighs, on the chair.

You gulped. ‘‘Fuck,’’ now it was your turn to curse, as his dick never failed to surprise you. While waiting hard, thick, and crimson. Mouth watering view went straight to your core to poke the arousal now begin to drip. Wetting your lips to match them with your mouth and his tip, meager grab of your palm meets with his dick. It has Jungkook cursing more, an aggressive fist dropped on the wooden desk. He thrusts once out of habit, but immediately stays still. The boy’s face blooming scarlet, it was enough for you to gather your courage to dive in. As his body was craving you without any doubt.

‘‘Mid-ahhh!’’

Full fist squeezed around the base of his shaft has the gamer crying out loud. It made your breath hitch. Jungkook speechless. Loaded dire placed on your stomach, yet it wasn’t unpleasant. Rather, hair stands on the edge, chest writhe in need. It was too pleasant. Too dreamy. A gasping view.

But you couldn’t hold back, and leaned in. Wet tongue touches the base of his head, you blow air after moistening the place good. It could have been twitched without your tight firm, rather, he moaned. Then freezed. Momentarily joy died in his stomach as he remembered his friends were on the other side of the line. Eyes shut tight, he waited for them to yell or accuse him for something unmistakably obvious. You giggled at his fear, as he opened one eye below the furrowed brows. Carefully as afraid to make a sudden move. Unlike his terror, nothing happens. The other two boys continue to play without saying anything, but Jungkook finds it suspicious. Even though he was relieved.

Not for so long though, as now the tongue starts to circle around the head of his cock. Small whimpers held back by him but you were bolder to spill them. Feeling hot, heavy between your lips, you like to suck him so much. Maybe too much as Jungkook pushed his hips high. So you continued, now almost half of him in your mouth. It was hard for you to take him at once, as the boy had the biggest one you ever laid on eye. Thick, also. Palm isn’t enough to cover him fully, when you dared. So you take your time while his nostrils breathe heavily. Precum becomes one with the salvia around his cock, you whined happily at the taste. It was always pleasant. Always tasty.

Nails digging in the naked skin, you bobbed your head down. Throat stretching well around his stabbing tip. But you had no mercy on yourself or shame while diving deeper. Tip of your nose almost touches his pubes, a strangled hum broke out by the throat. And it has his dick twitch deep down in your throat. Which another broken moan rises from you as he was equally horny as much as you. Fingers ached to find your pulsing clit, but you stopped yourself before even daring as this was about him. And only him. Rather than touching your pussy, you grabbed his waist. Shape of his body always turned you on, same as now. You mewled while moving after adjusting your breath.

Jungkook bites down his lips, too afraid to make another voice, challenge his change. Instead, he grabbed tight his mouse, almost crashing it. Ball of longing crawling onto his chest, stomach, all over his body while you keep the work of your mouth, tongue so good. It was stirring, heart stopping for both of you. Every swirl of your tongue, every hollow move of your cheeks drive him closer. Little by little, he felt the nudging delight getting closer and closer. And if you could, you would come undone, too, as the whole thing was too affecting.

‘‘Stay.’’ hand grabbing the back of your head, you freezed cock so deep in your throat. As the command was too sudden, a slap found your stretched cheek after you swallowed out of habit.

‘‘Hnngg,’’ you protest but do not dare to move, knowing it would be fatal. For you and the poor throat. Tongue waiting below his dick, feeling the pulse of his thick vein, you stayed there. Even though you practised many times breathing from your nose while mouth full, after long minutes, it was getting slightly disturbing. Not uncomfortable but unachievable for you. Butterflies burning one by one from the fire rising by your chest, you wait one, two, three minutes more until Jungkook shifts his hips. Only to choke you even more with his cock, rough beg of a moan stealing by your lungs, you wrenched under his hold.

Hands finding the support by his waist, you let him move his dick in your throat. Not that you had much of a choice. Muffled noises leaving your chest, his thrust was hard enough to try your gag reflex.

Eyes getting teary, you were drooling even more every time your nose hit his stomach. Wet sounds gurgled with every pressure of his cock, tears now mixed by tears on your chin. Creating a pool on his thighs and the dark leather. But you never tried to go back, stayed there like a good girl he wanted, let him use you face for a quick fuck. It was satisfying for both of you.

His abs clenched, unclench as a warning. He was about to cum, and it had you whine even louder. You wanted to taste him, gulp down everything he gifts you, and lick him clean. Strong, hot hunger raised with every push as you were going to eat his cum like your last meal. Because it tasted like that. Delicious, salty, and warm all around your tongue, teeth. You clenched around nothing once again and held your position as Jungkook started to cum with a heavy groan.

‘‘Fuck, fuck, FUCK!’’ no one mattered, as he was bursting white deep down on your hot, drooling throat. Thrill clouded his mind as he moaned loud, hard, and obvious while spurting, adding a new color to your throat.

Jungkook continued to cum, dripping thick and hot. And you swallowed every one of them, eagerly, messily. Slurping, licking him clean when he dropped by his high. When every inch of his dick gleamed glossy, and cleared from his cum, you were satisfied when taken you head back after his big grip let you. You smiled ear to ear as the tired bliss beamed his face. It never stopped being fluttering when he looked so proud of you. Heavy breaths of yours cut harshly when headphones almost vibrate with the intense scream.

‘IF YOU DONE FUCKING GOD KNOWS WHERE OF Y/N, CAN YOU FUCKING GO BACK TO THE GAME, YOU FUCKING FUCK!’

Jimin’s voice had you two freeze, but after Teahyung started to laugh loud, almost wheezing, Jungkook and you joined him. But Jimin didn’t. As they were losing the game. And he was competitive as much as Jungkook. But right now, your boyfriend had something distracting. So he chuckled before landing an eye on you and smirked.

‘‘Sorry, but I need to reward my girl.’’ he cocked a brow, hand moving to close the game. ‘‘As you all heard, she did a pretty good job. Right, baby?’’

Between Taehyung’s laughs and Jimin’s curses, your heart fluttered at the praise. It was all you needed, all you wanted from him. You watched him carefully while he put his headphones on the desk, corner of the lip curling high. A finger pointed at you, you wait for his word.

‘‘Now, be a good girl, and turn your ass over here.’’ you cooed at his demand, wiggled your ass and presented him. Panties already soaked, you were needy as always. And he was feeding you good with his filthy words. ‘‘I’m gonna fuck you so good, so hard that you will afraid even to knock my door again when I’m playing.’’

With a harsh smack landing on your cheek, you were sure of that. ‘‘Yes, please.’’

you can also find me on twitter (no minor pls:)

#heartsforbts #bangtanhq #bangtanarmynet #btsgoldnet #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #dom jk #dylanxmin

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waywardimpalawriter · 3 years ago

Note

Could you do a Bucky/Reader fic for 16 on the smut prompts?

The intimacy of shaving

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader

Bucky Bingo Square: New haircut square

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Sarah Wilson

Setting: three months after the end of Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Rating: M (Mature), E (explicit), NSFW, +18 only please

Warnings: fluff, angst, bickering, smut, oral female receiving, yearning, pining, unrequited love, smutty dreams, broken bones, mention of torture, Bucky’s old memories,

Word count: 10,800

Summary: Frustrated with being left behind, worry taking hold after finding out just a fraction of how bad your boys are. Making you start to search your feeling's for both men. Especially with the intimacy of giving Bucky a hair cut and shave. Unexpected emotions surface on all parts.

Notes: Sequel too “My own worse enemy," filling in a bingo square for #buckybingo and also an Anon request asking for smut prompt #16 “I’m going to die if you don’t let me cum.” Hope you don't mind me adding Sam into the mix sweetie. Also for my head cannon Sam uses Delacroix LA for his base of operation. Wanting to help take care of his family while taking on the mantle of Captain America. Hope you enjoyed doll.

Tag list’s: Are open

@buckybingo

Forever’s: @jedi-mando @chickensarentcheap

Bucky Barnes list: @learisa @eclipses-and-moondust

Story list: @sammyissassy @feelmyroarrrr

Wearing a path from the kitchen to living room ignoring Sarah’s stare, thumb nail damn near nibbled to the bed with how much your chewing the poor abused finger. Cell phone pressed to your ear, listening to Sams deep baritone, “What’d ya mean three places Samuel? How the f-ing hell did you both managed to get so banged up?”

“Explanations will roll out once we touch down Y/N for now know at least he didn’t break his funny bone that’s still none existence,” glancing towards Bucky stretched out over the metal helo bench. Right arm in a sling snug to his body, thick plaster cast covering from mid bicep to mid palm, fingers still visible.

“I heard that and I do to have a sense of humor just not your brand of stupid jokes bird brain,” deep voice unmistakably Bucky’s catching a wobble in the cadence not there when last they spoke.

Swiping a hand over your face wanting to kill them both for leaving you behind. Plans to do just that forming in your mind while snarking, “Remind me again why exactly you chose to leave me behind?”

Staying home you could’ve possibly worked with, the unknown danced on your nerves more than you’d give credit to. Having grown even closer to both men over the last six months, always brushing those pesky feelings and thoughts away that surface during weak moments of worry or sleep.

“To dangerous and I’m not arguing with you on those semantics it’s bad enough cyborg got the shit beaten out of him,” quickly pulling the phone from his ear at the high pitched sound from down the line. Forgetting a moment your attachment to both men, “You finished?”

Low growl in answer, biting off the curses you wish to fling at both Captain America and the Winter Soldier. “Don’t worry you’re in for it once you get home. ETA?” Checking the watch strapped to your left wrist, “I’ll come pick y’all up, gotta stop in town for supplies anyway.”

“No worries my trucks at base I’ll get Buck and myself home.” Glancing at his watch, “Landing in about two hours, think you can grab a couple of Miss Bridgette’s pecan pies?”

Too many years working with that man not to know what he likes, “For the shit you and Barnes pulled get your own pie man.” Soft chuckles lets you know Sarah heard you. Eyes locking with her’s for a moment seeing the worry in those warm browns matching as you knew in your own. “Just bring you asses home so Sarah and I can roast them.”

Almost feeling the deep groan from over the phone line, “What did you tell her?”

“Nothing since that’s what I got,” shaking head tips to the side picking up on Sam’s easy breathing and the helo’s engines in the back ground. “Just get home dumbass,” affection in your tone. Ending the call, slipping the cell into your front pocket to flop down into the worn out but still comfortable couch.

“They get hurt?” Anxiety tainting her voice from across the room.

Peeking through your fingers at her, dropping them to your thighs to run the length of denim covered skin, “Don’t know really, Sam sounds fine but a concussion or another type of head injury wouldn’t show it’s self right away. From what I did gather they finished up the mission a little over four hours ago, in flight for the last two.”

“What about Bucky?” Meeting your eyes having confided in her years ago about the crush harbored for a certain metal armed ex-assassin turned Cap’s left hand man. Always leaving out the other part of your secret crush. “Speaking of which you ever gonna tell them how you feel?”

“Busting chops about that again Sarah?” Exasperated sigh marches passed barely parted lips, “Something’s broke in three places that’s all Sam ‘Stubborn ass’ Wilson would say. Just not which one of them or what body part exactly.” Firmly ignoring her last question and not picking up on the fact she said them instead of him. To stand hands to hips, leaning back to stretch and possibly pop your spine. “I’m going to town you wanna come or need anything.”

“And you call Sam stubborn,” head shaking with a fond smile tipping her lips upward. Picking up the subtle shift in your demeanor as relief floods your system with knowing they're coming home at least safe. Having guessed your feelings for her older brother not long ago however, keeping that little tidbit to herself. “I’ll come with, give you company and grief along the way. The boy’s won’t come home till later anyway.”

Eyes roll you reach for the car keys on the coffee table, patting your back pocket to check for wallet and the front for cell phone. “Ready to roll?”

Hour and a half later arms loaded with grocery bags, making sure to hide Miss Bridgette’s pie’s from Sam, you and Sarah set to work putting everything away. Setting to work fixing dinner efficiently dancing around each other like a well oiled machine working together in tandem getting each task done. Back door quietly trying to open, Sam poking his head around the well loved oak wood door. Showing a face littered with cuts, a busted bottom lip and dark shadow of a black eye around his left. But his smile still widens flashing pearly whites at seeing the two of you. Entering, Sam places a large locking suit case and round leather carry case not far from the door.

Soft gasp leave’s Sarah’s lips, quickly moving towards her brother to look him over, “You were ugly before now it’s just worse bro.”

Snort existed through his nose, stepping fully into the house with a limp on his right side, accepting the hug she gives him carefully. “You should see the other guy.”

“I’m the other guy,” voice slightly strained but still light almost playful unlike the Bucky of months ago. Though seeing him coming around Sam, arm cradled close in a black cloth sling. Peeks of plaster noticeable making you groan, head shaking at the very sight of him. Assortment of bruises littered his face, his own busted lip, and a three inch cut circling just above his collarbone. Seeing the storm brewing in your eyes, “No we didn’t fight and Sam didn’t cause these wonderful souvenirs.”

“Stupid ass got captured, wouldn’t listen to my plan…”

“You didn’t have a plan Sam not a logistical one…”

“Oh, so you bulldozing in like a raging bull in a China shop worked so well. Who got capture?” Pressing a finger behind his ear to lift the shell listening for Bucky’s answer. “I’m sorry I can’t hear you. You’re gonna say you right Robo soldier cause that’s the correct answer.”

Exasperated with them both, “Shut it and sit down dinner’s ready. I swear the two of you fight worse than Cass and AJ.” Authority ringing through Sarah’s tone cutting eyes at both men.

“Oh sweetheart Cass and AJ have nothing on these two bone heads, more maturity in their little bodies than both of them put together.” Rubbing your temples trying to fend off the building migraine behind your eyes. “Listening to constant bickering I wanna put them in a ‘Get along shirt.'”

Scowl in place while giving them a full once over. Cataloguing the damage you could see and wondering about that which you couldn’t. Noticing the length of Bucky’s hair almost a shaggy just falling a little over his ears and brushing the collar of the black t-shirt he’s wearing. Full beard dusting his cheeks and chin reminding you of those days long gone back in Wakanda. In contrast to Sam’s neatly kept mustache and goatee, close cropped haircut smartly framing his handsome face. Looking much like the day he and Bucky left three months ago on their reconnaissance mission. Knowing better as looks deceive and clothes cover up places eyes can’t see without stripping them naked. The very thought peeking interest but pushing those thoughts back with a frown. Of course it doesn’t stop you from wanting to hug them both mindful of injures unseen that brings a scowl to your features.

“You wouldn’t?” Traces of fear slicing through those deep russet browns. “I thought you loved me Y/N?”

Speaking over Sam, “What’s a ‘Get along’ shirt?”

Caught between wanting to roll her eyes and chuckle, “It’s a big shirt we’d put the two of you in till ya stop bickering like children and actually get along.” Dishing up dinner, Sarah looks towards both men. Trying hard not to burst out laughing at the sour look on Sam’s face nor the still slightly confused one on Bucky’s.

“I see smoke coming from his ears,” snarky quip receiving a back handing smack to his arm.

Bowel’s placed at the table, “Aim for the head next time Sar.” Taking the seat on Sam’s right offering him a cheekily smile, “Might actually knock the few brain cells he has left around and jump start the hamster running the wheel.”

“You both wound me,” clutching his chest dramatically. “With friends and family like this who can you trust.”

“Dramatic’s must come with handling the shield,” cerulean eyes rolling edged with teasing tone. Glancing towards Sam first then you beside him, going to explain for Sarah’s benefit. “Steve could put on some high melodrama back in the day. Much like Samuel here.” Scratching at his chin with vibranium fingers, a low hiss only you catch sounds when the plates catch the little hairs.

Scoffing, “Only Sarah calls me that first off, second look who’s talking Mr. Bionic Staring machine scaring off everyone who comes within two feet. Dramatics run through your veins just as well. ”

“Children,” both women exclaim hands coming down to slam the table at the same. Before time digging into dinner as the back door opens with Cass and AJ storming inside with excited chatter upon seeing both Sam and Bucky.

Each asking about what happened, how’d the mission go and why exactly Bucky’s sporting a sling and cast. All questions peeking the interested of both women with brows raised and narrowed eyes.

“Settle in first and eat dinner,” Sam intones wanting to keep most of what happened from his family. “For the most part the mission went successful.”

Very unladylike snort leaves your nose hidden behind a glass of sweet tea you sip from, “At least you came back in one piece or three in someone’s case.” Eyes narrow even farther on Bucky who has the good graces to look sheepish and divert his eyes.

“But the super serum why didn’t it help like that,” AJ snapped his little fingers for emphasis on the quickness the serum should work or so he thinks.

“Doesn’t quiet work that way AJ,” Bucky starts running a hand through his longer than usual hair. Giving a short frustrated tug before returning to the topic at hand. “Yeah the serum helps speed up the healing process it’s not instantaneous and,” pausing to side eye you not wanting to admit there’s more injures than just his arm.

Scowl returning having a feeling you know why he’s paused in explaining, “Takes longer to heal when multiple injures are involved.”

Dinner finishes with other questions, skirting the full truth about the mission, discussing the coming week with work and school. Sam’s boyish smile appears when Sarah brings out the pie, cutting out slices to pass around with Reddi-whip, coffee for the adults, milk for the kids. Silence settles for a moment the enjoyment of pie more important to savor and only once done do you raise to start cleaning up.

“I’ll,” shooting Sarah a look with a shake of your head.

“You got paperwork to catch up on babe I’ve got this, besides Sam volunteered to help. Didn’t you Sam?” Shooting a look his way, clearly speaking volumes if the answer comes back no.

Brow arched in question but thought better then to ask, though he flips the script on you, “Of course, Bucky volunteer’s.” Quickly moving away from the hand threatening to land a hard punch to his right thigh. Almost toppling to the floor in his hast to move Sam tweaked his hip a twinge of pain slicing through his features.

“Serves you right Wilson,” thought a slice of regret skates across your thoughts. Head shaking you stand gathering plates as the boys excuse themselves to play video games.

“Homework first or I’m taking those games away,” Sarah yells after them looking in your direction for a second. “You got these two?” Pointing at each of them in turn with her own frown dropping her lips downward.

“Sadly yes,” exasperation clearly written in the rigidness of you stance and narrowing to slits of your eyes. “Blissfully unaware or want to know everything?”

“Unaware I’m just happy their back whole,” nodding Sarah takes her leave, heading for the home office.

Times flown, six months in fact since Karli’s death and Sam taking over the mantle of Captain America. Going above and beyond to change how the worlds become and see’s the shield. Using Delacroix as home base to keep himself grounded and around for his family. Surprisingly enough including you and Bucky the house feels a touch over crowded but wouldn’t want things any different.

“Care to explain what that means?” Limping with hands full towards the sink, Sam places his arm load down watching you move around the kitchen. Putting leftovers up, setting to work on the dishes, the familiarity you exude warms a place in Sam’s heart. Always pushing those thoughts from his mind, your his best friend and wouldn’t see him in any other way. Especially with your heart firmly filled with Bucky.

Giving your back to both men and only acknowledging their presence when Bucky comes over with a bowel. “Thanks,” leaves your lips with a nod.

“We’re sorry for leaving you behind Y/N, but Sam and I agreed things were to dangerous neither of us wanted you to get hurt,” trying to reason Bucky leans his back against the counter beside you. Tugging once again at his too long hair that gets slightly tangled in the plates of his fingers.

“You actually agreed on something?” Catching his actions, your head shakes grabbing for the towel to dry soapy hands and help with his dilemma. “Instead you both come back looking like train wreck’s all beaten, broken and bruised. With a busted arm,” finished with untangling his fingers to point at his arm. Whirling around to assess Sam who’s trying not to put weight on his right leg, “Banged up hip and God know what else internally. Neither one of you are spring chickens for heaven’s sake.”

“Don’t know what your talking about Y/N? I’m not a day over twenty-five,” taking an aim to make you smile and ease the tension in your shoulders. Frown appearing when your countenance doesn’t change but deepens, “Talk to the resident Centurion who got his ass captured and tortured for over a week.”

Low growl leaves your lips pursed together in a grim line, “Do either of you think about the consequences of your actions? Of what’ll happen without either of you in this God forsaking world?” Tossing your hands up and turning back to dish washing, something to keep from chocking the life outta the two of them, or spilling your inner most thoughts. Afraid to loose either man the very thought making your heart clinch painfully in your chest, breathing picking up as tears gloss over your eyes. Plates clang loudly, forcefully slamming them into the drying rack making both men wince at your actions.

“Y/N,” coming up behind you large warm hands carefully rest on tense shoulders. Aware of your feelings for a certain cyborg the thought a little bitter to take but Sam resigns himself to the role of best friend. “We’re sorry really,” taking a breath and clearing his throat wanting to make amends and explain. “We thought, planned, things just…”

“Went to shit around us, it’s not like Sam or I wanted to get the crap beating out of us doll it just,” shrugging vibranium hand coming to rest on your shoulder beside Sam’s. “Got complicated.”

Taking a deep breath drawing in the scents of Sam’s citrus and cider wood cologne you couldn’t put your finger on naming, mixing with Bucky’s old world sandalwood base cologne of 4711. Eyes close for a moment blinking back the tears, and to gather thoughts, righting them in an order that makes sense. Trying to keep out the feelings currently jumbling up your brain. “I know,” body sags back against Sam’s strong chest while unconsciously leaning towards Bucky’s hand. “Neither of you will do that shit again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Not if things go dark side like this time, we’re not putting you in harms way,” feeling you stiffen Sam steps back, Bucky’s hand drops back to his side when you whirl on the man behind you. Stance ridge and firm, Sam crosses his arms adding his own glare and not backing down. “My decision is final on the matter and no amount of arguing will change that.”

Understanding Sam’s position, however the thought of staying behind, waiting to find out if… no you push those thoughts aside. “Mine, that’s who makes the choice not either of you,” heat of annoyance flaring to life as you look between the two men. “Knowing what I signed up for, choose to stick around and help put this broken blue marble we call home back together. I won’t sit out the next mission we clear on that?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, barely audible hiss leaves Bucky’s lips at having hair yanked out by the roots. Though his voice is steady when asking, “Why did you stick around? Thought once Walker handed over the shield, the Flag smashers agenda crashed and burned you’d skip out on the next train back to normal.” Not that he minded of course, in fact Bucky rather enjoyed your company, reminded him of those first months out of cryo getting to know each other. Plus his questions distracted you from getting an answer that won’t satisfy.

“I have my reasons,” giving a half hearted shrug you turn back to finishing up the dishes not really wanting to explain. Not fully sure yourself why you’ve stuck around though deep down you know it has to do with both men. “Reasons neither of you need to know.”

Sharing a look with Bucky, “Don’t pull that shit with us sweetheart you demand answers now we ask the same in return.”

Sure they still argued like an old married couple but a begrudging understanding has built between the pair, coming to an almost friendship neither would fully admit to. Both wanting to protect the small family friend’s circle patched together like grandma’s old quilt. Tattered, frayed and a few wholes but well loved and always cared for. Eyes landing back on you to watch the forward slump of your shoulders rounded inward along with your chin dropped to your chest.

“I have the two of you house broken,” idea forming to steer the conversation away. “Don’t need that headache on repeat and I wouldn’t leave the two of you bone heads alone to kill each other or drive poor Sarah crazy,” quicker than either can react you’ve scooped up hand fulls of soap bubbles to smash into both their faces. Deflecting the conversation away from having to answer and lightening the mood. Or so you hoped with the playfully murderous looks both men shoot you. Skirting Sam’s grabby hands heading to put the kitchen table between yourself, Captain America and the Winter Soldier. “Now boys that’s just all in good fun and your both hurt so I suggest you think about your actions before retaliating.”

Wiping the remains of soapy bubbles from his face, thick fingers making wet tracks over denim to dry hands. Sam edges a little closer intent on trying to snag your arm. That ghosts through his fingers, “For now but remember paybacks a bitch sweetheart.” Bright smile tugs his full lips, head shaking though he knows there’s so much more your hiding from both he and Bucky. One day he’ll crack that secret you hold so dear, for now Sam lets you cling tightly.

Watching him go you turn towards Bucky who’s smirk sets you back a moment. “I don’t think I like that look Barnes,” arms crossed mustering a half glare. “Sam’s right you really can see the smoke rising from your head.”

“Hahaha that jokes getting old,” light hearted quip falling from his lips, eyes raking your form as you near the sink. Catching you looking between finishing the dishes and making sure Bucky’s not going to retaliate. “I come in peace promise besides I’m too old for revenge I’ll leave it to you young whipper snappers,” throwing his voice to sound like an old man.

Laughter rings full and deep from your parted lips, soapy hands gripping the sink to keep from toppling over in mirth. His own chuckle exists on a grin, cerulean eyes taking in how carefree you look. Tension and worry melted away with his well played grandpa joke. Making Bucky wish he got to see you like this more often but then he remembered why he never searched. Why he left you alone and only within the last ten or so months managed to reconnect the missing dots in his life. Sure there’s still blood on his hands he tries to scrub clean with each mission, to make those amends and not just avenge. But truly help people in ways that didn’t require lead or blood.

Still wondering, so he gives voice to those thoughts, “Why didn’t you go back to your life doll?” Feeling he’s perpetuated a grave error in asking the question but a part of him wants. No needed the answer to know why you’d give up a happy life for one of danger and uncertainty with him and Sam.

Sobering, his question hitting you like a ton of cement bricks keeping you from turning to face him. Wincing when another hiss echos around inside your head from your right side. “Tell you what Buck you let me cut that hair and beard of yours I’ll answer your questions.”

“I get you don’t… wait… what?” Not sure he’d heard you right. Pain making a return to fog his brain for the moment as throbbing radiates across his broken clavicle to the dislocated shoulder, dancing along the fractured radius and painfully tingling his fingers. Soft curse exists his lips reminding himself to take Sam’s suggestions next time though he wouldn’t let the other man know. “Don’t happen to have any pain meds do ya doll?”

Eyes narrow, “Which parts did they break?” Holding up a hand to stop him from answering while you head towards your room. Grabbing up the small med kit Sharon gave you months back for times like these. Pausing to scoop up the hair scissors and trimer, along with a shaver and cream, both of which belonging to Sam. “Now you were saying?”

Placing everything on the table, unzipping the medium size unassuming black bag pulling out a small bottle to pop the top and wiggle out two pills. Handing those over to Bucky who just stares at them resting in his metal palm.

“Trying to kill me doll?” Teasing tone to the cadence of his words while popping them into his mouth and excepting the glass of water. Downing in one go and handing it back, “Never did like pills reminds me of Steve.”

Resting a gentle hand on his bad shoulder, “If I tried to kill ya Buck you’d see it coming,” snickering at the wide eyed look he gives you. Sobering with understanding filled eyes that stay locked with his, “I’m sorry it”s not my intentions to bring up the past.” Moving to put the glass down, you stay at the sink looking out over the backyard, orange and reds dancing over the rippling surface of the bayou. Sinking sun creating a cornucopia of color heralding the on coming twilight and the end of another day.

“You didn’t Y/N,” coming to stand next to you watching the golden ball of life giving light slowly sink into the horizon. On the tip of his tongue to speak about Steve, the abandonment he felt acutely with the absence of his best friend. Slowly filled by your present, that of Sam’s and his family. “I guess ‘Till the end of the line’ meant just till he could get back to who he really missed.” Anguish heard loudly through soft spoken words not meant for your ears but once uttered there’s no going back.

Out of your peripheral vision you study Bucky for a moment heart breaking for the man who’s lost so much to then fully face him. His own gaze staying straight ahead staring unseen out the window with tan lace curtains framing the coming twilight. Over head light casting shadows in the hallows and angles of his features, bringing out the bruises highlighting the cuts, making your heart ache for this man in ways you’ve tried to push aside. Ways you didn’t want it to feel in case of rejection but couldn’t help the tightening in your chest nor the want to embrace and hold Bucky close.

“Come on,” without thinking your hand slips into his vibranium palm tugging till he follows and only dropping to scoop up trimmer, combs and scissors before heading out the back door.

For a moment Bucky stood there thankful to Shuri for the ability to feel warmth and the weight of your hand in his vibranium limb. The very thoughts your simple gesture conjures damns his heart making it beat triple time. When your head pops back around the door sweet smile crossing those kissable lips. Bucky has to remind himself you’re off limits friends nothing more and to breath. Your beauty stealing the air from his lungs, making it hard to focus on anything except your present.

Catching the out of focus look in his cerulean eyes mind swirling with questions as to what he’s thinking about. “You gonna stand there taking root or get your silly ass out here,” motioning with a jerk of your head over your shoulder smile still firmly in place. Making sure he’s actually moving before existing to place a stool about middle of the back porch. Patting the hardwood barstool then reaching up to tug on the pull string as light floods the area casting a bright glow.

Transfixed for a moment in the doorway with the peek of skin allowed to his eyes. Your heather grey band shirt riding up teasingly tormenting him. Cursing internally, tongue trapped between indenting teeth to keep the sounds at bay. Till the hard slap of your palm against wooden seat draws his attentions and he robotically takes the seat. Stiffening with the fluttering of a barber’s cape hating to have things around his neck. Only to settle once you have it in place and buttoned reminding him your not there to hurt or torture him. Fingers brushing lightly over the exposed skin of his neck, creating goosebumps to dance across his flesh.

“Not too tight?” Gently running nimble fingers through his hair, blunt nails scratching the scalp. Finding it hard to keep from rubbing into your hands and fighting the urge to purr with each pass. You work the larger knots out carefully, pulling a comb from the back pocket of your jeans to run through his hair. “You with me Buck?”

“Hmm?” Simple noise issues from the back of his throat lost in the tingling sensations your fingers bloom across his body. Wanting to chase the feeling bringing peace to his mind much like the soft cadence your voice takes on with the intimacy surrounding the two of you. Sweet chuckle music to his ears and snaps him back to now, noticing you’ve paused your hands waiting for a response, “Sorry no I’m good.”

“Enjoying yourself Barnes?” Teasingly quipped while adjusting the cape to cover his back. Making sure all his hair lays over the edges and carefully combing out the smaller knots your fingers missed. Secretly enjoying the soft chestnut strands as they curl around your fingers. Massaging his scalp hoping to relax his tense posture when a particularly stubborn knot has you accidentally giving a not so gentle tug. Garnering a low moan from the man in front of you. “Sorry Buck,” working the knot out with a little more care taking the sound as one of pain.

Throat clearing, thankful his crotch is currently covered to not give away the secret he’s concealing. Praying to all the heavens you’ve taken the moan as one of pain instead of pleasure that’s surfing through his veins with a simple hair pull. “Yes, and it’s fine,” words pushed passed lips held taunt to keep from letting any sound out. Searching his mind for a topic to settle on, willing his body to stop reacting to the warmth of yours.

Each brush of fingers sends heat flaring to life along his nerves. Knowing the pain killers don’t worked through his system that quickly. Yet, the throbbing ache once present has diluted to a low annoying thump with the heat of your hands on his cotton covered shoulder. Wanting to lean back into your body but holds himself ridge from doing something stupid like enjoying the moment. Therefore clears his throat, “You’ve got me at your mercy doll ready to answer my questions?”

“Should I worry what you’ll ask?” Moving from behind him to head back into the kitchen. Grabbing the empty spray bottle to fill with warm water and head back out.

Eyes close with the first spritz of water, chin dropping to chest as you work to wet his hair. “Why?”

“Why what?” Knowing what he’s asking, your distracted for a moment putting the spray bottle’s trigger through a belt loop incase its needed once your satisfied with the wetness of his hair. “I’ll need more specifics than just why. Why’s the sky blue? Why’s it so damn hot? So many why questions you gotta stop wasting your breath Buck.”

“Cheeky doll very cheeky you know damn well what I mean,” keeping his head still to prevent you from severing an ear.

Smirking, setting to work on trimming up the top back portion of his head, trying to keep from childishly making faces. “Sure don’t Sarge.”

Groan slipping passed before he’s able to trap and swallow the sound at the off handed use of his military rank. Wondering which deity had it out for his ass today. Cursing the fact he’s let you so close to breath in the flowery scent of your body. Gentle use of those skilled fingers through his hair not making things any better for the growing problem tenting his jeans. Returning to himself when you move to his left shortening the hair over his ear. “Why’d you stay with us? I thought,” remembering those painful words back in Madripoor. “I thought you had a happy life to go back to.”

“Ear hustling Barnes?” Switching sides and glancing down with a raised brow you know he doesn’t see.

Looking up to try and catch your eye your focus on cutting his hair makes the attempt impossible. So he settles on, “Don’t know what you mean doll. Just asking a question,” trying to hold the shiver at bay when your fingers brush over the shell of his ear.

“Since your asking it means you didn’t hear everything Sam and I talked about,” thankful that’s the case or things would get a whole lot complicated. “I lied.”

Head whipping to the side so quickly you fear he’s damaged his neck with the wince taking over his handsome features. “Lied why?”

“Reasons,” ‘Ones I won’t tell you James,’ speaking the last words in your mind, careful probing fingers check for anything popped out. Garnering a hiss of pain when you’ve found the break in his clavicle. “What did you break besides the hamster running your wheel brain?”

Bitting off the curse as pain flared over his right side. Gritting out, “Clavicle, dislocated shoulder, fractured radius, you can see the cuts and bruises so take it a little easy on this old man.”

“How… Why did you get captured?” Worry fights fear both dance with anger marching through your veins as a Thanksgiving Day parade band would down the streets of New York City. The very thought of both your men hurt and so far away from home torn a hole in your heart. Thoughts you try to push away and focus on the job of cutting Bucky’s hair.

Finishing up what you could on the back of his head, Bucky feels you come around to the front. Knees spread to accommodate your body, closing his eyes to keep from staring at your breasts. Licking suddenly dry lips with having you extra close, he tries to gather an answer to your question. “We needed an in so I made a decision.”

“One I’m sure Sam disagreed on,” carding your fingers through the top, snipping pieces checking length. Jealous over how soft his hair feels between your digits. Woodsy pine scent reaching your nose that twitches in pleasure at the fragrance matching what you always thought he’d smell like.

“Yeah well we ran out of time doll. Couldn’t let what remains of LAF get away,” eyes quickly open only to slam shut again with having you still too near for his own good.

Every brush of your fingers, thighs brushing against his with every move, your flowery scent wrapping around his heart to squeeze tight. Breath punched from his lungs when your knee makes slight contact with his erection. Shooting pleasurable fireworks off behind his closed lids. Wishing for your hands on his body, wondering what they’d feel like over bare skin. If you’d shy away from the scars littering his flesh or… he wouldn’t, didn’t need to think about the alternative.

Unsure why he gasped you move from between his legs and look upon his face confused as to his ridge posture eyes held tightly closed. Insecurities rushing through your mind, setting up shop to remind you no man let alone someone as handsome as Bucky would ever want to look at you. Shoving back those thoughts to ask, “You okay Bucky?”

“Fucking fabulous doll,” bitting out the words while trying to reign in the need to grab hold of your hips, bringing you back against him. Wanting to find out if you’d fit as good or better than what he’s imagined during those dream filled nights he doesn’t talk about with anyone. “Finished?” Praying you’ll say yes, the temptation becoming almost unbearable.

Unconvinced by his words but pushes that aside and stepping farther back to round him, grabbing up the trimmer on the way with a numbered comb. “Almost but then I still have your beard to do.”

“Fuck,” low gravely voice intones the single word hoping you’ve not heard and cursing the heaven for this test of his will and desires. In another life Bucky wouldn’t have hesitated to ask you out, wine and dine with dancing till midnight. Taking you home with a simple kiss of promise with more to come. But he’s different now and you don’t deserve to have a broken man on your hands.

Swallowing harshly to cover your growing need to escape and bury yourself in another program or book to distract from those awful thoughts running around in your mind. Replaying all the brush offs and look aways as rejection shattering your heart. Pushing you to finish his new hair cut that much quicker. “Done, now how short you want your beard?”

“Gone,” knowing exactly what he’s saying and damning himself to the torture of a different kind.

Coming back in front of him, you slip between his parted knees so easily a thought you try to push away while switching the trimmer combs and flicking the on button. Carefully cupping his left cheek while shortening the right for a closer shave once your done. “Surely you didn’t just let them capture you.” Returning to a safer subject other than how good his bearded jaw felt in your warm palm. Wondering how it’d feel in other places.

“Offered myself up for a little bloody torture and a few broken bones. I’m here to tell the tale instead of those guys Y/N. They're off the streets and we have the information needed to finish taking down LAF.” Teeth gritting to keep from rubbing his jaw into your palm, from turning to kiss the center and devour you with his mouth.

Pausing a moment, “But you could’ve gotten killed James.” Sorrow coloring the cadence of your tone, eyes filled with fear at what could’ve happened. “You should’ve called me, I could’ve helped.”

Heart stopping, never had you spoken his first name, always Bucky or Buck, Barnes when your angry but never James. Opening his darken cerulean orbs breath trapped somewhere between lungs and mouth at the sorrow written deep in those eyes he never could not stare into. Heart hammering back to life with the subtle brushing of your fingers over his cheek, “Would it have matter?”

Confusion tips your head to the side, “What you dying or me helping?”

“Dying,” single word dropped like a bomb destroying everything in the path.

“James,” softly spoken with so much emotion held within the countenance of your features. Watching the ghosts float through those beautiful cerulean eyes, memories of a time he couldn’t control, of deeds done to people who didn’t deserve the pain and death he dealt out as the Fist of Hydra. Tears gloss over your eyes once again trying to blink them away to keep them from clogging your emotions filled throat. “It matter’s Barnes, matters to a lot of people you’re just too stubborn to realize that.” Shaking your head to clear the fog and get back to work.

Speechless Bucky just sits there letting you finish up trimmer the hair away as if trying to erase the past months, the torture he let happen with no regard to his personal well being. During this time your words chase around his mind, combined with Sam’s out right demand of him to never put himself in harms way like that again. Adding more questions added than any true answers. Delicate fingers brush over trimmed facial hair bringing him back to the present right as you move to take the barber’s cape from around his neck. Missing the warmth of your touch, heat radiating from your body, your scent filling his nose and making him drunk on you.

Folding the cape to drape over your arm, “I’ll shave you as well come back inside.” Voice slightly rough with unshed tears avoiding looking directly at Bucky and missing the longing written in the ocean pools. Mistaking his lack of response for rejection of your words and feelings. You enter the house placing the small hand load down and moving a chair over towards the sink. Returning to grab up the shaving cream and razor, pulling a fresh wash cloth from the draw by the sink too wet it hot.

“You don’t have to,” entering and closing the back door with the heel of his boot. Bucky leans against the counter watching you with a closed expression. Pain dull but still worming its way through his veins along with so many thoughts.

Glancing his way, “I know,” motioning with a wave of your hand, “but if I don’t that beard’ll come back in short order and we’ll have to do this all over again.” Going for playful to ease the tension built from the lingering words of out on the porch, “Bring your ass over here Buck.”

Your change in mood has a confused frown pulling his mouth down but complies with the order. Taking up the seat with spread legs and turned up face watching you wring out the wash cloth. Using your elbow and tipping his head back to gently place the hot cloth around what’s left of his beard to soften the hair and wake up the pores. Catching the small muffled groan, “To hot?”

“No, perfect,” faintly hearing the two simple words you grab up the shaving cream to put a generous amount in your palm before pulling the quickly cooling cloth from his face. Tossing it towards the sink and applying a layer of cream to his skin. Left overs rinsed from your hands quickly before drying and grasping the razor with steady hands. “Just a little off the top if you please,” boyish smirk slips over his lips tipping cream covered cheeks up while trying to be funny.

Eyes rolling, “To late for that one top’s already taken care of.” Using the pad of your thumb to push the skin of his cheek taunt. Carefully dragging the razor over his flesh intending to keep your gaze directed towards working the blade over his check. However, you’re unable to do so while cleaning the razor as your eyes dart up catching the fact Bucky’s gaze firmly rests on your face. Heat blooming across your body, eyes drop back to his cheek intent on getting finished quickly to avoid any farther embarrassment.

Meanwhile Bucky maps every feature of your face, the slant of your nose, set of your eyes, cupids bow of your top lip. Visions of drawing the plump flesh in for a bite and pull before letting go with a wet pop, filter through his mind. Finding himself in a rather precarious predicament, thighs spread to accommodate your body, his palms itch to grasp and tug you into his lap. Bitting back a moan each touch brings, the gentleness tearing a new hole in armored covered heart. Wanting to keep you out but finding it harder to do every time you show the kindness his life lacked for decades.

Minds eye drawing the curves of your cheeks, lips twitching to caress, fingers tapping trapped in plaster and cloth against his body. Wanting to brush his knuckles over your throat to gently grasp the back of your neck and bring your lips against his for a slow sweet drink of the tempting cavern of your warm mouth. Only snapping back to reality with the soft brush of your fingers along his jawline.

Searching for any hairs left behind, soothingly palming his cheeks with cool hands desperate to taste his skin. Drag your lips over the same spots the razor just graced. Teasing the tip of your tongue along the hard edge of his jaw to place a kiss just below his ear. Tempted to even suck a mark for everyone to see. You swallow harshly removing your hands from his cheeks to rinse and warm up the cloth to clean off any residual shaving cream from his face.

“Finished,” clearing your emotions clogged throat, stepping towards the sink, your profile the only side Bucky sees as you work to clean up the mess.

Feeling rather than hearing him stand heat radiating of his body just a few inches shy of brushing against yours. “Thank you doll,” impulsively leaning forward to brush his lips over your cheek. Lingering longer than he should but unable too stop himself from pressing soft slight chapped lips to the corner of your mouth. “Next time I need shavin’ I know who to come too,” breathing the words before pulling away, taking his leaving quickly to keep from doing something even stupider. Like wrap you up into his arms and actually kissing those pillow soft lips. Backdoor swinging closed a little harder than he meant in his bid to get away from your warmth and tempting body.

Frozen in place, skin tingling from just that slight press while your heart beats almost out of your chest. Pounding against your rib cage so hard fear it’ll crack a rib any second now. White knuckles grip the sinks edge, heat flaring across your body to pool low and throb through your lady parts. Thighs unconsciously rub together needing friction to alleviate the ache growing between your legs.

“Did you cut him or take a hunk of hair out and now he looks like Frankenstein monster?” Teasing tone to his quip, Sam enters the kitchen still staring at the back door. Having watched the exchange from the darkened hallway. Reverting his eyes to your back, taking in the ridge posture of your spine with a slight very subtle shake. “Y/N what’s wrong?” Swiftly coming up behind you, hands gripping your shoulders to turn you around. “Did Bucky say or do something wrong?” Worry creasing his brow the want to hold you close growing with each second your not in his arms.

Looking up into the kind russet eyes flashing with concern and worry, “No,” head shaking, “no he didn’t Sam just…” unable to stop yourself from burying your body against Sam’s firm chest. Trying to figure out how to explain what’s running around in your head. The indecision, thoughts you know shouldn’t roll through your mind doing just that as your arms wind around his trim waist.

“Just what sweetheart?” Wanting to help smooth things over between his two best friends even if it meant swallowing his own feelings.

Keeping your eyes closed, breathing in his cedar wood and citrus scent, burying your nose against his collarbone. Always able to calm the raging storm of emotions boiling through your veins. Confusion setting in with those same tingles you feel when Bucky touches you now dances across your body at the warmth of Sam’s arms cradling you close. Reminding you of earlier when his chest pressed to your back strong hands gently placed on your shoulders. The shiver you suppressed at the touch of both men. At the memory your eyes pop open and you quickly push away from Sam as if he’s burnt you. Needing to escape and figure out what’s going on.

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter, I’m sorry,” feet quickly taking you from the kitchen into the safe arms of your bedroom.

Missing the confused look marring Sam’s face that turns into hurt at the way you’ve shoved him aside. Body sagging against the counter, hand rubbing at the back of his neck searching for what’s changed in such a short period of time.

“Men, blind and just plain foolish,” landing a hard hit to his shoulder, which he rubs to alleviate the pain. Sarah comes up beside her older brother with a raised brow. “Still don’t get it? Searching for exactly why she reacted so strongly? Think Samuel use that big brain you have and actually put it to good use.”

Frown creasing between his eyes and drawing his lips down, “Left behind sucks Sarah that’s all it amounts to. But we… I couldn’t have her along, wouldn’t risk her life like that.”

“Has nothing to do with leaving her home Sam,” giving him a meaningful look that still bewilders him. “Why didn’t you want her along but you took Bucky with you?”

“He’s a super soldier Sar he can take the hits not that I want him hurt either. Shit when he let himself get captured,” moving towards the abandoned chair to plop down heavily. “He scared the living shit outta me, I thought…” hard to swallow the memories of watching those men pulling an unconscious Bucky into a van. Driving off before he could plant a tracker and barely able to get up with bruised ribs making breathing painful. Sam runs a hand over the short hair unsure when things got so complicated between the three of them.

Pulling up a chair in front of Sam, “You’d lost him?” Seeing the nod Sarah’s features softened knowing from the tell’s she picked up watching the three of them for so long. “You love them?”

“What?” Head whipping up so quickly making Sam wince. “Of course I do but not like that I mean their family, you know I’ll do anything to protect my family.”

Hand resting on his shoulder, “You keep telling yourself that big bro maybe one day you’ll actually believe it and able to push those feelings away good enough to keep them at arms length.” Looking up at her, “Just a word of advice,” seeing him nod, “don’t push those emotions away, you deserve that love they both would readily give you.”

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

Softly closing the door behind you heading towards the ensuite bathroom for a nice cold shower, preforming your nightly routine, and shutting off every light except the one beside your bed. Falling into the soft mattress with your current book keeping you company for the rest of the night. Eyes start to droop, words blur and you read the same sentence half a dozen times. Book falling against your chest as a yawn takes over your features.

Body stretching out against cool sheets jumping when a soft knock echos around your room, eyes darting towards the clock to see its just a little passed mid night. Slowly getting out of bed, pulling the extra long dark blue with little pink flowers dotting the sleep shirt down to cover your ass and thighs. Thinking its Sarah checking on you, eyes shocked wide with the small crack you open the door to spy Bucky standing there fidgeting.

“Everything all right Buck?” Opening the door wider to lean against the casing arms crossed just under your breasts.

Swallowing, glancing from your eyes to lips repeatedly. Trying to form the words he wants to speak when the decision makes itself clear and Bucky surges forward. Gently wrapping vibranium fingers around the back of your neck and bragging you against his strong chest. Slanting his lips against yours, nipping your bottom lip to make you gasp and slipping his eager tongue passed into the warm depths of your mouth. Leading the kiss and praying he’s not wrong.

Rewarded by your arms winding around his neck careful of his injures. Fingers tugging at the now shorten strands thanks to your expect hands. Garnering a low moan from the depths of his chest, one that rambles with a pleased hum as you return the kiss. Tangling your tongues together making nothing soft nor gentle about this melding of mouths. Only breaking apart for both of you to gasp for air.

“No, nothing’s all right doll. I can’t stop thinking about you,” resting your foreheads together sharing common air. Fingers at the base of your skull massaging the tension with surprisingly easy pressure. “I’d done fighting, done pushing you away, I need you Y/N.”

“James?” Lips tingling from a kiss you’ve only dreamt about as confusion marring your tone, eyes blinking a few times to make sure you’ve pushed the sleepy haze from your mind.

Soft groan issues at hearing you whisper just first name, hand slipping down to wrap around your waist and pull your taut to his body. “If…” trying to push the next words past his lips, “if you don’t want…”

“Us, we need to know now sweetheart. We won’t push you into anything you don’t want,” Sam’s voice full of desire and longing cuts across Bucky’s for a moment.

Making you look up from eyes locked with Bucky to stare at Sam trying to process his words, the look in those beautiful russet eyes you can’t pull yours away from. Till Bucky presses a kiss to just below your ear, “We know it’s a lot to take in doll and you can say no…”

“I,” gulping like a fish out of water, heat thumping through your veins at the unspoken promise both sets of eyes show. “I don’t know what to say.”

Stepping forward to push you back a step so Sam can fully enter your bedroom and close the door. He comes behind you sandwiching your body between two walls of muscle and masculine warmth. Pressing a kiss to the opposite cheek, lips brushing over the shell of your ear, “There’s no going back sweetheart you’re ours if you say yes. But if the answer is no I’m not going to lie things will change. Awkward as hell yes especially at first but I,” Bucky clears his throat to which Sam nods, “we would work through that with you. Loosing your friendship can’t happen no matter what.”

Removing yourself from between their warm bodies to collapse at the end of the bed, head in your hands. Mind so confused, a jumbled mix of desire and lust touched with a heavy dose of love that scares the living shit outta you. Feeling the bed dip on either side, removing your hands to glance at both men. Seeing the reassurance in those cerulean and russet orbs you swallow to wet your parched throat. Gaining strength to finally speak, “I don’t want to loose either of you,” looking between both men. Taking each hand within your own, “But this last mission taught me I don’t want to deny my feelings any longer.”

“What feelings doll?” Giving your hand an encouraging squeeze.

Looking into Bucky’s cerulean eyes, “I’m in love with both of you.” Switching to Sam’s russet orbs seeing the blatant want shining only boosts your confidence to lean over. Cupping his jaw and bringing your lips against his. Different from the kiss you shared with Bucky. Who’s bottom lip begs for a nibbling, Sam’s fuller lips press against your own in tender caresses.

Gentler too, a soft slant of his mouth against yours, pressing twice at different angles before tracing over your bottom lip. Gaining entrance on a sigh of need to check in with your tongue before tangling together. Heated palm cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over the apple twice while he artfully pillages your mouth. Drawing out a low moan squeak following when a set of lips slide over the side of your neck nibbling a short path to suck a mark behind your ear. Making you weak and boneless against Sam, who releases your cheek and hand to grip your hips, having you straddle his thighs.

Kiss breaking for air, “I’m to heavy Sam, your hip.”

“You’re prefect baby girl no arguing understand?” Cupping your ass in both hands to roll your hips against the hard bulge of his erection. Teeth gritting at how good you feel in his arms, the damp heat of your core only serving to make him grow harder with each brush against your cloth covered pussy. Sam reclaims your mouth, this kiss much different. Desperate and demanding taking no prisoners this time as he immediately slips his tongue back into your mouth. Pulling a groan from deep within your chest, arms going around his neck to help move your body against his. The delicious friction sending jolts of pleasure radiating out over your body, clit throbbing with a need you’ve never felt before.

Hissing at the cool sensations of Bucky’s vibranium fingers drawing circles across your back. Pushing your sleep shirt off your body arms raising, breaking the kiss to accomplish the task. Looking over your shoulder at the bare chested Barnes, mouth salivating at the sight eager to touch and kiss every inch. Brought back to Sam with the heat of his mouth connecting to your pulse, adding his own mark to your body while his callused fingers dances across your back.

Cursing his rotten luck for not having use of one hand, Bucky steps forward lowering to his knees carefully. Brushing his lips along your spine while cool alloyed fingers sweep around your body between you and Sam to trace a line between your breasts. Head dropping back to Bucky’s shoulder and baring your breasts to Sam’s hungry glaze and Bucky’s questing fingers.

“So beautiful,” words whispered reverently from Sam’s lips against the damp column of your throat. Mouth tasting each inch of your skin he can reach. Till moist heat circles your nipple, wet tip of his tongue coming out to flick the tightly budded peak before sucking harshly. In contrast to the cool patterns Bucky draws, taking the time to tug before pinching just hard enough that your back arches into Sam’s mouth.

Pushing into Bucky at your back a whimper parting your gasping lips. Needing more of both men surrounding you, slick coating your trembling thighs as you clinch around nothing. Dragging a whine of desperation from you soul,“Please,” single word escaping your mouth.

“What doll? What do you want?” Drawing his lips up to your ear, nipping the lobe bringing it between his teeth giving a sharp bite at the same time Sam flicks his tongue over your nipple.

Letting go with a wet pop, smiling at the whine exiting your heaving chest, “I think out girl needs more Buck. Any thoughts on how to please her?” Brow wiggling over your shoulder at Bucky who just smirks.

Fingers sliding down then under the band of your panties to find you soaked and pulsing. Cool metal meeting heated flesh makes you jolt in Sam’s arms. Grinding down into those wonderful fingers and against the thick ridge of Sam’s cock.

“Don’t stop please,” gasping head lolling back, your eyes close as sensations crash through your veins. Tight coil starting to form with just the brush of his fingers.

Maneuvering closer to slip two fingers into your clinching channel. Deep groan vibrating through his chest and into your back, “Fuck Sam she’s tight and so wet for us. I bet she tastes just as good as she feels.” Rocking your hips, fucking his fingers desperate for that high traveling up from the bottom of your spine. Tickling your tummy with jolts of pleasure only to have it diminish when Bucky pulls his fingers out.

Frustrated whine leaving your lips only to choke on air when Bucky offers one of the fingers perviously buried inside your cunt to Sam. Who doesn’t hesitate to wrap his lips around the single digit, groaning at the very taste of your essence. Circling the tip with his tongue, making sure to clear every drop off while keeping eye contact with Bucky. Mimicking with his mouth how he’d suck Bucky’s cock, garnering a growl from deep within his chest. Letting go with a smirk, “Even better Buck and I bet from the source it’s simply heaven.”

“Only way to find out,” answering grin firmly in place he raises from the floor. Helping you stand on shaky legs turning you to face him. Capturing your lips in an open mouth kiss, flicking his tongue against yours, teasing your bottom lip and drawing out another frustrated groan making him chuckle. “Don’t worry doll we promise you won’t go unsatisfied we’re going to take care of your every need.”

“Don’t tease her Buck it’s not fair,” glint of mischief sparking through those russet eyes that only Bucky catches since your still face him. Sam comes up behind to pressing his bare chest against your back, hands resting on your hips, tugging and letting the band of your panties snap back against your skin. “You can still say no.”

Wiggling back against Sam then pressing forward to feel the hard line of Bucky’s erection against your lower tummy. Knowing why he’s asking, seeing the same sentiment mirrored in Bucky’s eyes that warms your heart filling with love for both men. “Now who’s teasing Samuel,” reaching behind you to slide your palm over his ridged cock giving a squeeze at the same time you palm Bucky. “I’m sure my loves,” enjoying the answering growls from both men. Before another word leaves your lips Sam tugs down your panties letting them pool at your feet as Bucky moves you towards the bed.

Swiping the book from the mattress to lay on the nightstand, smile on his lips at finding the well loved copy of The Fellowship of the Ring. Bringing you to sit then lay back against the cool sheets, trailing his vibranium fingers from your cheek down between your breasts. Circling each nipple, giving the right a light pinch that has your back arching and a gasp existing your paired lips. Distracted till Sam gently grips your left ankle, spreading you open to slide between your legs. Pressing kisses alone the inside of your leg towards your thigh. Soft bread tickling your skin making giggles erupt from your mouth.

“I think she likes that Sam,” the comment spoken against your ear. Placing a kiss to your cheek, “Have to remember to let my own beard grow back out.”

Whimpering softly at the thought one hand fisting the sheets as Sam draws his tongue over the crease between thigh and groin. Purposefully avoiding the spot you want him most, “Payback is a bitch boys,” words growled out right as Bucky envelopes your left nipple into the heat of his mouth.

“Teasing half the fun sweetheart have patience,” looking up from between your legs. Stiffen tongue drawing up from your entrance to clit, circling the little throbbing nub and making your back arch, gasping for air.

“Fuck,” single word breathed from deep within your body. Sweat starting to bead across your forehead. Head tossed back into the pillow free hand carding through Bucky’s chestnut hair tugging the strands harshly till he lets your breast go with a wet pop. You guide his mouth up to yours, demandingly taking the kiss over, slipping your tongue into his mouth this time. Swallowing your moans of delight with each thrust of his tongue. Matching the pace Sam sets against your dripping cunt.

Rutting into the mattress to find the prefect friction hoping to ease for a moment the throbbing of his cock. “Stop stealing all those pretty noises Barnes I wanna hear our girl,” reaching up to smack the other mans thigh hard enough to break the two of you apart.

“Sorry not sorry,” giving him a smirk while licking his lips from the heated kiss.

Filing away the fact Bucky knows what means only to have any thought fly from your mind as two thick fingers enter your quivering channel. Slowly thrusting, his mouth suctioned onto your clit, drawing little short patterns making your thighs shake around his head. Slacking off to lazily place kisses over those thighs but still pumping his fingers, crooking them into a come hither motion to brush over that special spongy spot.

Blooming stars behind your tightly closed eyes, “Watch him doll, see how much you loves devouring that pretty cunt.” Voice rough with arousal against your ear, Bucky’s metal fingers dancing over your chest only adding to your heighten state of desire.

At his command you eyes open to lock with Sam’s passion blown blacken eyes. Moaning at the picture he presents you with, panting breath as you keep drawing closer to your orgasm. Only to have Sam back off creating frustrating tension in your body. Gritting out, “I’m going to die if you don’t let me cum.”

Smirk showing in those beloved eyes as he doubles down on your clit. Lips puffy but forming a perfect O too suction and flick his tongue over the engorged nerve bundle. Fingers, third added to stretch you open and picking the pace up as your mouth drops wide in a scream Bucky devours with a deep kiss. To keep from waking the kids or Sarah, his own body on fire with a need to have you both.

Tingles quickly dancing through your veins, breath panting as you break from Bucky’s mouth, one hand gripping the sheets below the other still buried in his hair. Body on fire as you near that perfect orgasm Sam’s intent on giving you.

Denial’s not just a river in Egypt as your eyes pop open at the knock on your door. Reminiscent of what your sluggish brain comes to understand as just a very vivid dream. One that makes your heart drop with the book that’d lay on your chest now face down on the carpeted floor. You stand checking the time of mid night before heading to the door and finding Sarah on the other side with ice cream in hand.

“Figured you might need some cheering up,” letting her in and taking the bowl of your favorite ice cream.

Vivid dream lingering though you don’t share feeling a TMI moment she doesn’t and most likely wouldn’t want to know about her big brother. You steer the topics away from the non existent love life to plans for tomorrow and the coming weekend.

#Buckybingo #New Hair cut square #Sam Wilson x Female Reader #Bucky Barnes x Female Reader #Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader #Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader #Bucky Barnes x F!Reader #Sam Wilson x F!Reader #TFATWS fiction

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lemonjoonah · 5 years ago

Text

In Need of Orders (M)

Pairings: Seokjin x Reader Word Count: 15K Rating: M Genre: Kingsman AU, action, drama, romance, smut, comedy, rivals to lovers Warnings: violence, swearing, public foreplay, slight dom/sub dynamics which interchange (Seokjin is a bratty switch), discussion of safeword, light bondage, masturbation, voyeurism, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, small amount of cum eating, sexism in the workplace, referenced death of minor character, Seokjin and reader are bad at feelings.

Summary: After a disastrous mission, which lead to the destruction of your prized invention and the compromise of his cover, Seokjin is confined to your base, and placed under your command. Now that he’s stuck with little to do, he uses his time to investigate a past you simply want to forget.

A/N: AU based off the Kingsman Series, originally written by Mark Miller. There’s a mix of tech origins, the com-glasses, and poison-pen, were from the movie and the rest of the inventions are my own creation. Members will occasionally be referred to by their titles but I try and use their actual name as much as possible, here’s a list of members/characters and their corresponding titles: Reader - Merlin | Seokjin - Galahad | Yoongi - Percival | Hoseok - Lancelot | Namjoon - (current) Arthur |

....

“No, no, no. NO! Seokjin, what did you do to my beautiful baby?!” You circle around what was once your wondrous invention. Your masterpiece of a vehicle that had taken years to get just right. When Yoongi dropped in a couple hours ago and told you to expect an unpleasant delivery you never could have imagined this. Unpleasant doesn’t begin to cover the damage done, this is an act of desecration.

“Merlin, titles please! Without manners we are nothing,” Seokjin chides you, paraphrasing the principal motto as if it will save him from your wrath. You’ve reached your limit with him; there's no benefit you can see in maintaining pleasantries.

“You will get my manners when you deserve them,” you growl back. “Now why did you sink my prized creation?”

“The cloaking device was faulty.” He shrugs off the loss like it’s nothing, no harm to him and therefore no foul.

“I find that hard to believe.” You’ve run this car through every test, checked every parameter, you would never have let it leave this workshop if it posed a danger to exposing agents.

“It was! I was conducting surveillance on a target when they became aware of my presence. They retaliated, so I needed a quick escape. I was on the overpass near the river, I knew there was a small oxygen tank in the glove compartment for emergencies-”

“So driving it off a bridge seemed like the best option?” You never thought you’d regret seeing the day you installed that safety feature, one that you intended for use in case of a gas or chemical assault, but here it is. “Tell me,” You look from your precious machine back to the monster who destroyed it, “What exactly were you doing when you noticed the glitch?”

“Just driving, maybe going around eighty. Does it really matter?” He sighs. “They saw me coming so I had to take cover or they would have shot me.”

“Oh no, it works perfectly fine.” Your voice starts to echo through the workshop as your fury bubbles over. “When the user reads the manual and understands that cloaking only works when in a stationary position. I am a scientist not an actual fucking magician Seokjin! Of course you can’t travel when cloaked. If you had at least skimmed the booklet I gave you, you would have understood that!”

The technology you created doesn’t make the car invisible, instead it projects the images behind it to make it appear that way. It can only account for and cover small changes in movement, not whole vehicles travelling. Only an idiot would think that it could compensate for such drastic shifts to the backdrop. And for some reason that moron dares to continue arguing with you.

“Booklet? That thing was a thousand pages long! You actually expected me to read that?” He counters his voice rising to combat yours.

“Oh, I’m sorry would you like me to make an audio-book for you next time? Or better yet I could make a grade school reader complete with pictures. Maybe that’ll hold your attention!”

There’s a sudden shift in his expression, with a thick smile forming on his face. “I suppose I wouldn't say no to a recording if it was read by you.” His words ooze with flirtatious mire, intent on sucking you in.

Seokjin’s smirks and one liners have gotten him out of trouble many times with other agents. It’s not hard to see why, the man could be considered the most attractive of all your acquaintances, but you refuse to let this drop simply because he’s batting his eyes in your direction. You grit your teeth and continue to chew him out. “Lancelot and Percival read it, I don’t see why I can’t hold you to the same standard.”

“Fine, fine I’ll look it over.” He huffs in surrender, but even in defeat he still carries a playfulness in his tone. “When do you think you can get it back up and running again?”

“If you think I’m going to take time out of my schedule to fix this, only for you to go destroy it again, you have some nerve.” You can barely even register the destruction let alone process how much time it’ll take to repair everything. With the dents in the body work, the flooded engine, and the electrics most certainly fried, you're looking at weeks of work just to make it drivable again. But bringing it back to its full potential? That will require months of tinkering.

“What could you possibly have to do that’s more important than this.” Seokjin is clearly trying to hold back a snicker, but when a small snort escapes him, all remaining control of your temper vanishes.

“Seokjin, so help me god if you don’t leave my line of sight in three seconds, I’ll do those men a favour and shoot you myself.”

He chuckles at your threat, “You’re not-”

“One.” You reach for your holster and take hold of your gun.

“Serious.” The laughter in his face starts to fade.

“Two.” You disengage the safety and take aim.

“You won’t actually shoot me.”

“Th-”

“At ease Merlin.” Yoongi interjects, entering the room with his face buried in a file. His indifference is a true sign of how well he knows you. You were only going to relieve Seokjin of a few strands of hair, but maybe it’s better this way. The sound of gunfire would surely result in a slight loss of hearing, and Seokjin already has trouble listening. You sigh, lowering your pistol.

“I can only guess you’ve both been discussing the...” Yoongi comments looking down at the remains of the car. “Accident.”

“More like negligence,” You mutter, flicking a bit of mud off what was once a perfect paint job.

“Listen, I tried Percival,” Seokjin appeals to Yoongi. “We’ve been looking for this guy for months. I had him in my grasp, I couldn’t risk losing him.”

“I know Galahad,” Yoongi rubs his brow as his gaze returns to the document in front of him “but there’s concern that you’ve been compromised, after reading your report there are worries that you might be identified and expose the operation. You’re on lock down for the remainder of the mission.”

“No! I’m so close to bringing him in. Just let me assist,” Seokjin pleads. You would probably feel bad for him if he hadn’t just gone and destroyed your life's work.

“The rest of the order doesn’t seem to agree. In fact they’ve called your work on this case,” Yoongi flips to another page of the file, “Reckless, irresponsible, and fails to even remotely represent their request for a covert operation...” He turns the file around to push it in Seokjin’s face. “And they’ve written those last two words in all caps, see?”

You chuckle quietly, covering it with a cough but Yoongi doesn’t look convinced. His gaze shifts to you as he hands down the rest of the directive. “Due to these recent events, Galahad is to remain here for the duration of the operation. Under your orders.”

“Wait, what?! Why are they punishing me too?”

“It’s not meant to be a punishment Merlin.”

“The fuck it isn’t. Why can’t Lancelot look after him? It was his idea to allow him on the mission.” You admire Hoseok greatly, but in your opinion it was a bad decision to add Seokjin to the roster for this operation.

“If Lancelot or I are seen with him then our cover will be blown too.” Yoongi reasons, “You’re the only one who operates completely behind the scenes.”

“But why do I have to be put under command of another agent?” Seokjin interjects.

“Because, you are clearly in need of orders until you can get your rash instincts under control. Just be grateful it’s not a complete dismissal.” Yoongi starts to step away with the matter settled.

There goes your peace and quiet. Unless... you call out to Yoongi with one last shred of hope. “Permission to put him under a gag order for every possible topic of conversation?”

“Denied, but nice try Merlin.” Yoongi smirks as he enters the elevator which will bring him back above ground.

Yep, you’re truly going to be living your own personal hell in such tight quarters. A small work den and communications relay located beneath a PC bang in the heart of Seoul. The base was never intended to host more than one for a long term stay. It’s purpose is for agents to stock up, gather their orders sent from headquarters, and then leave. The only person who actually stays on site is you. “Well then, the bedroom’s mine but you can take the sofa. Don’t touch what’s mine without my consent and we shouldn’t have a problem. Is that clear?” You lay down the rules quickly not wanting to prolong any further conversation with your new resident.

“Yes Ma’am.” Seokjin answers looking truly defeated for once.

“If you’ll excuse me I have work to do.”You brush past him towards your computer, needing to assess what components you’ll need to order first for repairs.

“Wait, what am I supposed to do?”

“You’re a big boy, I’m sure you can figure something out.” You respond keeping your eyes focused on the screen.

“Could you show me how to fix it?” His unusually quiet request manages to break your concentration.

“Fix what, the car?” You glance back at him with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out his angle. “Why would I do that?”

“Well for starters I probably can’t fuck it up any more than it is.” He laughs but your lack of reaction kills his joke rather quickly. “It would cut down your workload. Give me a better appreciation for what you do. You would get to order me around. And who knows, you might even enjoy my company.”

He’s right, you could use the extra pair of hands, and he might learn something. “Fine, you can start by reading this.” You fling the tome of a manual at his chest, causing him to grunt from the impact. “Report to me when you're done.”

...

“How can you even call that a couch? I’ve seen footrests bigger than that disappointment.” Seokjin comments as he enters the workshop. You slide out from under your car to find his hands tending to the muscles at the back of his neck, and heavy bags resting under his eyes. It's the first time you’ve seen him exist at a fraction less than perfection in his appearance, a gratifying perk in this unfavourable situation.

“It’s all that would fit.” You grab a towel laying on the floor next to you cleaning the dark grease of the car off your skin. Usually you wouldn’t bother wiping it off just yet, but having Seokjin in your presence has made you oddly self-conscious. “You might have noticed space is limited here.”

“Then who’s idiotic idea was is to make a base in this shoe box of a hole?” He grills you, probably intending to roast the architect of such a small site.

“Mine actually. After the data breach a year and a half ago we needed something more secure. There’s so much information streaming to and from this location that it makes it difficult for anyone to find our dealings. It’s the perfect spot.”

“Perfect if you’re a mouse.” Seokjin takes a seat in your straight-backed desk chair. Groaning as his fingers continue to knead, moving down to his wide shoulders.

“Are you implying I’m some kind of rodent?” You glare up at him, ready to defend yourself against the slight.

“You should take it as a complement, mice are cute.” He gives you one of his famed smiles, the type where you can’t tell if he’s sincere or mocking.

“Why are you down here Seokjin?” You ask preparing to wheel back down beneath the undercarriage of your car. “I can’t imagine you’ve finished reading the manual already.”

“I did actually. This is me reporting for duty.” He throws the book down on to the floor next to you, marked and dog-eared. “Not a whole lot else I can do while on lock down.”

“Is someone upset that Lancelot and Percival get to have all the fun? Maybe it’ll teach you to obey orders better, rather than getting stuck here with me.”

“I can follow them just fine... when they don’t conflict with the completion of my mission.”

“Not getting spotted was part of your mission Seokjin.” Your response is dry as you state the obvious.

“Yes, but so is recovering the data from that breach, before he can unload it on someone else.”

“You don’t know that he has it. That’s why you had to observe him.”

“Listen to me, Hwang’s a fence, one whose been trying his best to stay off our grid, of course he has it. Once we find him we can track everything back to his source.” Seokjin’s confidence is admirable. You can’t deny that you would like to catch the one responsible for unleashing one hell of a computer virus that caused you and many others weeks of havoc and restless nights. The worst part is you don’t even know what they were able to get a hold of, the sooner Yoongi and Hoseok can track this man down the better.

“You still should have exerted more caution, you're not the only one on this team Seokjin, people can get hurt if you're too brash.” You’re surprised to find Seokjin nodding with his head hung low. Since when does he ever agree with you on something? “Now that you’re done with the manual, I do have work to assign that I doubt even you can mess up. Every single electrical circuit and wire needs to be removed, it’s unlikely that any have survived the flooding so it would be safer just to take them all out. I’m going to see if I can save the engine.”

Seokjin gives you a cheeky two finger salute before he sets to work behind the dash.

Thirty minutes later he’s already back at it with questions. “Do you have any speakers set up for music?”

“No, we could have used the car radio if you hadn’t submerged it, but here we are.” You usually work in silence anyway, but getting to deliver another stab of guilt is better than admitting your regular tendencies.

“Ah no problem, I can fix that.” At first you wonder if he intends to repair the radio, but when he proceeds to hum loudly, you realize that’s not the case. Instead he treats you to a selection of unrecognizable songs which you don’t bother to ask the title of.

You let it go for as long as you can, but thirty minutes later when you move from under the car to beneath the hood needing to drain the cylinders next, you finally raise the white flag in pursuit of silence. “Seokjin, please just stop okay?”

His chuckle taunts you, “That’s what you get for pulling a gun on me yesterday.”

“If you’re not careful I’ll do it again.” Your tone turns salty once you realize that is was his intent to torture your ears.

“Can’t believe you lasted that long, I thought for sure you were going to crack after five minutes of my melodies.”

“That’s what that was? I thought you jammed your thumb and were screaming out in pain the whole time.”

“Ha ha,” He retorts. You're almost upset when he goes quiet with nothing substantial to follow up your jab, but then he opens his mouth again. “How can you work when it’s so quiet?”

“Helps me focus when there’s no distractions.” You answer hoping that he’ll take the hint and remain silent.

“But doesn’t it get lonely?”

You slow your pace as you loosen the bolts on the gasket cover, choosing your words carefully as you make an attempt to side step that minefield of a query. “I work better when I’m by myself.”

“That wasn’t my question.” Seokjin catches on to your evasion proceeding to look around the hood of the car trying to meet your eyes.

“We all make sacrifices Seokjin. This is mine.”

“If you spoke to Arthur-”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You try to cut him off quickly not wanting to get him involved in your circumstances, but he continues.

“I’m sure he would listen.”

“Drop the subject Seokjin, that’s an order.” You take a deep breath trying not to lose more of your composure again. “I chose to work in this place for several reasons. I don’t need to explain every one of them to you.”

Seokjin is surprisingly quiet for the rest of the day. It’s doubtful that you scared him off with your temper, he’s too confident for that. It’s more likely that he’s frustrated with you’re bickering. You hang back a bit more only giving direction when absolutely necessary. If you have to live with him you might as well attempt to make it bearable for the both of you.

That night you treat him to ramen from the business upstairs, they don’t usually do take-out but they make an exception for you. He sits across from you in a desk chair slurping his noodles while his eyes bore into you. “What, do I have something on my face?” You ask, starting to feel uncomfortable under his gaze.

Seokjin takes another slurp of his dish before he explains himself. “No, I’m just trying to figure you out.”

“Please don’t.” You plead, not wanting to broach the same subject from earlier.

“You’re passionate about your work. You’re good at what you do. Your superiors trust you.” You groan with exasperation, nevertheless he persists. “You're lonely here. The order could put you anywhere and you would most likely excel, and yet you bury yourself here, in this hovel.”

“It’s not a hovel...” You mutter, but you’ve run out of energy to argue and your appetite has now vanished. Rising from your seat you bid him good night. “I’m going to bed. Clean up this mess when you're done, and try not to throw your neck out cramming yourself onto my couch again.”

“Yes Ma’am.” He gives a muffled reply with noodles hanging from his mouth, and another fake salute.

You shake your head as you close your bedroom door behind you.

...

“You know,” Seokjin bursts into your room early the next morning, startling you awake. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen test scores as high as these. Are you sure you’re not a magician Merlin, because these results seem too good to be true. ”

You bolt upright in terror, “What are you looking at?”

“The start of your journey with the Kingsman.” He wanders around to sit at the foot of your bed as you drag the covers up to your chest. “I figured if there was an answer I would find it here, but I’ve never seen such an impressive resume. The last Arthur had you pegged from the beginning as the successor to your predecessor, he even recorded that his candidate didn’t stand a chance against you. You should be proud of this...” He leans to you reading the expressions on your face. “But you’re not. You’re scared. Why is that?”

“Stay out of my files Kim Seokjin.”

“Is that an order?” He asks his face still only a couple inches from yours when it pulls into smirk, looking pleased that he’s caught you off guard.

“Yes.”

“If I recall,” He closes the document in his hands, but his analysis continues, “You were moved here just shortly after Namjoon took over the position of Arthur. You were living the life before, testing and training new recruits, doling out orders and information. But then you fell into this pit. What did you do to piss him off?”

“Nothing, ju-just stop asking, okay? I don’t need your help, so stop trying to save me!” Your voice cracks as it reaches the point of yelling but he doesn’t back away. “Staying here alone, that was my choice. So don’t you dare try to take my one salvation away from me.”

“I’m not trying to take it away. I just want to understand it.” He answers his tone controlled and calm while holding your gaze firmly in his. When you look away he finally gets up leaving you with your files on your dresser.

...

A week passes and Seokjin continues to try and figure out why you chose to work in your closed off environment. Throwing out random and bizarre questions on what you might have done to Namjoon to get yourself stationed here.

“Did you expose his guilty pleasure for stuffed animals?” He asks as he helps you unbolt and remove seats, making room for the new chairs and bench which just arrived.

“Does he have a guilty pleasure for such a thing?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you.” Seokjin states with a snicker.

“No.”

“Did you lose his glasses?’’ Seokjin inquires next as he pulls the seat from the driver side all on his own. You can’t help but notice the muscles straining through the back of his shirt as he lifts the heavy chair from its place. When he turns back around for the next you berate your pitiful self-control. Yes he’s attractive, but he’s also the current thorn in your side. God must be a sadist for creating this enticing man, with such a sharp tongue and a plaguing desire to mock you.

“He does that just fine himself, he doesn’t need me to do it for him.” In fact, you have two pairs on backup for Namjoon at all times, just in case such a need should arise.

“Did you sneak into his house and switch the sugar to salt in his tea set?”

“That’s just cruel,” You chuckle at the idea, making a mental note to check your own sugar before your next cup of coffee. “But no I didn’t.”

“Well that’s it then, I’m out of ideas for today.” He heaves the passenger chair next to the other with an exhausted breath. A bead of sweat drips down his brow as he collapses on the new back bench waiting to be installed.

“Really? I’m surprised. You haven’t asked the obvious question.” You lay the statement as bait hoping he’ll take hold so you can reel him in. To your delight, he does.

“Oh and what’s that?” His eyes light up, with the chance that you might actually tell him something informative.

“Did I destroy his favourite vehicle? I mean, that’s why you’re stuck here isn’t it?” Seokjin glares at you in frustration, his gloom making you giggle. “But the answer to that too is no, I didn’t. I’m not a scoundrel.”

“Is that what I am to you now,” He presents a gleeful smile with a raised brow. “A scoundrel?”

“Why do you look so proud about that?” Your question is full of judgement, but his delight is not swayed.

“Because, scoundrels are sexy.” He tilts his head and bites his lip with a nod as if to make a point.

You let out an obnoxious laugh. “Maybe to some. I fail to see the appeal.”

“Then what do you consider sexy?”

“Someone who’s attentive, and dutiful. You know, an adult.” You attempt to describe the very traits he appears to lack to make your point. Though Seokjin’s looks might draw you in, you are in need of something more.

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Where’s the fun in that?”

“It’s not always about the fun, I just like someone who I can depend on.”

Seokjin’s about to respond, his mouth open with a solemn stare in his eyes when the elevator chimes. It’s doors open for you to find a haggard Hoseok with two black empty bags. You greet him with surprise, having completely lost track of time, he had mentioned that he would be stopping by to pick up supplies.

You hurry away to unlock and ready the stock. While Seokjin rushes in, barely even letting Hoseok off the lift, launching into an interrogation about the mission and any progress they’ve made. There’s only a few short words exchanged before the man left in your charge storms away slamming the door behind him as he exits the workshop to your common room.

“Lancelot?” You call out to Hoseok with hesitation, noticing that he’s still standing in place where Seokjin left him. Stepping in you help to take and load one of his duffles with surveillance equipment he requested. After Seokjin’s barrage he looks like he might rupture if you’re not careful.

“Please no formalities,” He sighs in exhaustion, while he too starts to pack up what he needs. “I would prefer not to be an agent right now, even if it’s just for five minutes.”

“That bad?” You wince for Hoseok’s sake, he’s usually so optimistic, it’s worrisome to see him so beaten down.

“We know Hwang’s back in Seoul, but any time we get a whiff of a more detailed location he vanishes. Yoongi and I have brought in more agents. We’re stationed in the south end of the city now, trying to keep an ear to the ground.” He zips up his case and then turns the conversation to you. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine I guess, but Seokjin’s been looking into my assignment here. He keeps trying to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong.” Hoseok is one of only a few who know why you chose such an assignment, and you would like to keep it that way.

“Maybe you should give it a smack then. Or better yet put him on a leash.” Hoseok finally breaks into a smile as he pats you on the back.

“He’s not a dog Hoseok.”

“Really?” Hoseok raises his eyebrows as if it’s news to him. “Cause he looks at you with those puppy eyes all the time. I’m surprised you don’t see it.”

“I don’t need someone who doesn’t listen to me Hoseok.”

“Okay yes, that accident with the car was a major misstep on his part...”

“And the constant prodding into my past?” You groan, you were hoping Hoseok would have your back immediately. Why does he have to take the role of impartial referee when you need his bias the most?

“He probably thinks you’ve been wronged, and that you deserve better. Is it not natural to what's best for those we care about?”

You tilt your head starting to question your fellow agent’s sanity. “I doubt that’s the case Hoseok, he just likes to be nosey.”

“Fine, have it your way, live in denial. I’m sure he’ll be out of your hair soon anyway. But if I were you I would try and explain the situation. He might not be living here but you’ll still have to work closely with him in the future.”

“You’re saying I should tell him?” You challenge his suggestion, he must be overworked since he’s definitely not thinking clearly.

“I know it won’t be easy, but if he knows what’s really bothering you, he might try to be more tolerable.” He lugs the cases off the table crossing the straps over his chest.

“Either that or he’ll use it as ammo to really gun me down.” You curl your lip at the thought pacing behind Hoseok as he moves towards the elevator to head back above ground.

Before the door closes between you he holds it open to give you the support you wanted along with a sigh. “I really don’t think that’ll be the case. But if he does... I’ll be your witness when you tell Arthur you shot him in self-defence.”

“Deal.”

...

You find Seokjin on the couch with a pile of files and a coffee on the small table, his brow furrowed and his mouth pulled tight as he scans through each one at a rapid pace.

“I take it you weren’t happy with his update?” You call out as you enter the room advancing towards him.

“No, I wasn’t. They had to pull in lower level field agents because I can’t be out there to help them. We probably would have caught Hwang by now if I was still working on the case.”

“Seokjin, I have every camera in the city looking for him, there’s not much else we can do from here. And your not going out there to track-”

“I know I’m not Merlin. I just want this to be over so I can get my shot at redemption.”

You nod looking down at the files in front of him.“What are those?”

He lets out a panicked laugh as he tries to scrounge them together. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“Seokjin.” You draw out his name with intent to reprimand, leading him to respond with a nervous grin. He shifts his hands away giving you a better view of what he’s up to.

“Since you said I couldn’t look through your files I thought I would take a general overview of those you’ve trained or worked with.”

You shake your head, tired of this never ending battle between the two of you. “You’re not going to stop are you?”

“Nope.” He takes a sip from his mug as he looks back down to the information he’s gathered. You scan through the names and pull out the file that haunts you to this day. Dropping it in front of Seokjin before taking a seat in the armchair across from him. He reads the name off the tab. “James Paxton the third, he sounds like a pompous prick.”

“Oh I can confirm he was, and definitely one of the most hard-headed recruits I’ve ever tested, but we shouldn’t speak ill of the dead,” You mutter as Seokjin opens his file to find the word deceased stamped in bold red letters. He stares up at you with his mouth agape, you can see the wheels turning in his head, trying to figure out how this fits into your narrative.

“Why didn’t I hear about this?”

“It wasn’t really broadcasted through the regular channels, if you weren’t at the main headquarters you didn’t know about it. It happened just over a year ago.”

“I would have been in Lhasa...” Seokjin mutters.

You nod, not surprised that information flew under his radar. “I didn’t realize it at the time, but the last Arthur, he saw me as a bar for people to cross. He thought if recruits could take orders from a ‘bossy woman’ they could take orders from anyone. James Paxton didn’t pass that test, and he paid for it with his life.”

Thankfully for once, Seokjin doesn’t have a comment, instead he sits there, waiting for you to continue.

“Paxton thought me pushy, and overbearing, told me so to my face, several times in fact. I should have had him kicked out, but I was determined to prove him wrong. There was a mission to recover the stolen data a couple months after the breach. There was a lead, before we learned of Hwang. We thought we had the location of where the data had been transferred to. I was supposed to go on the mission, but at the last minute Arthur told me to direct the team from off site.”

Your hands start to shake as the story continues. A mixture of both anger and fear coursing through you. You shift to hide them beneath you, gripping your legs to keep your fingers steady, but they fail to escape Seokjin’s notice.

His eyes are downcast in shame. “You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to Merlin. I’m-”

“You wanted to hear this Seokjin. I told you to leave it alone, I told you I didn’t want to talk about it.” You take a deep breath trying to rein in your anger, “Either you let me finish or never question me about my situation again.” He shuts his mouth instantly letting you continue. “It didn’t take me long to realize the lead was a trap once they got on site. I ordered a retreat, everyone else followed except for Paxton”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Seokjin interjects sitting on the edge of his seat.

“That doesn't mean I can’t be upset by it! Instead of trying to curb the discrimination the previous Arthur used it, and I didn’t even understand what he was doing until I lost someone. I found out that he enforced the idea among the recruits, that I was an overly authoritative woman, one who fails to take proper risks. Forget the fact that I am highly qualified, that I have more experience and knowledge of many of the situations than the other leaders, my lack of dick disqualified me from being taken seriously.” Seokjin falls silent again. He must realize that he too has failed to take you seriously in the past, then again, he’s that way with everyone else too.

“When Namjoon became the new Arthur shortly after, I was able to address my grievances. He was ashamed of his predecessor and wanted to do right by me, so I requested this place as a base. I wanted somewhere I could work on my own for the most part and not have to worry about people thinking me conceited or bossy. I needed a break from giving out orders.”

You finally finish to find Seokjin with a narrowed brow and clenched jaw. His tone matching the anger in his stance, “You’ve been here a year-”

“I know.”

“You’re telling me you’ve been punishing yourself for a year?” He’s question is poised with what looks to be genuine frustration, “Over two assholes who couldn’t understand how valuable you are?”

“It’s not a punishment, it’s a safety net.” You explain.

“It’s a cell!” He gestures around him. “You’re basically living in solitary.” You shift awkwardly not knowing what to say, and definitely not expecting this reaction. “Come on, we’re going out.” He orders, getting up from his seat and pulling you out of yours. “There’s a bar I know close by. I’m taking you out for a drink.”

“You think it wise for you to leave?” You question him, not knowing how else to diffuse the situation, not when your focus is drawn to his grip which wraps your shoulders.

“It’s only a couple blocks away. If we see anything suspicious I promise we’ll head straight back. It’s your call, but I think you could use a night out.” He pushes you in the direction of your bedroom. “Go change into something that doesn’t have oil stains all over it.”

You should probably put your foot down, there’s no saying what could happen. But seeing Seokjin act like this... maybe Hoseok was right, he actually cares. The problem is now that you can see this side of him you don’t want to lose hold of it just yet. “Fine, but if anything at all is amiss-”

“We’ll hightail it out of there, and barricade ourselves in here for the long haul.” He rattles off the promises. “Now go get ready.”

...

Seokjin maintains the persona of a caring companion as he drags you to his favourite bar in the city. “It’s quiet and the owner, Choi, is an old friend of Percival’s, he knows not to ask too many questions. There’s almost always at least one or two of us from the order or field agents hanging out there.”

He holds the door open for you to enter and you're greeted to the sight of a worn down ale house. A robust and stained wooden bar takes the focal point of the room, and there’s not a single other patron in sight. You can’t help but regret being forced to change out of your usual attire. You didn’t want to look out of place, but with no one here to take notice, your black dress it’s an unnecessary and uncomfortable gambit. Seokjin on the other hand looks very pleased to be back in his usual attire, a three piece suit that’s been confined to the closet while he’s with you in the workshop.

“Like I said, it’s quiet.” He chuckles while he helps you take off your coat.

From out back steps the barman to greet you. He’s an unexpected yet welcome gem of a sight among the rubble, a handsome face with a wide smile which he presents to you. You might have to stop by here again just to take in this view, maybe study some of the tattoos he has scattered across his arms.

“Choi not in tonight?” Seokjin asks after seeing your reaction to the man behind the counter. He must not be the usual staff, it’s a shame really, but it’s funny to see Seokjin look so displeased. Realizing that for once he might not be the most attractive person in the room.

“Oh you know him?” Your host inquires with surprise, “No he wasn’t feeling too good, probably will end up spending the night by a toilet from the looks of him. I offered to take over tonight so he could get some rest.”

“That was nice of you.” You extend the man a warm smile.

“I like to think so.” He responds while beaming back at you. Seokjin hastily gives both your orders, allowing the bartender to leave you with a lingering stare as he walks back to grab your drinks. Maybe your efforts with the dress weren’t such a waste.

Seokjin glares at the man, mumbling a few choice words from which you manage to pull the word, ‘Flirt’.

“He was just being nice.”

“My god you can’t read people when it comes to the way they look at you. You’ve clearly caught his attention...” Seokjin drops unexpectedly.

“I can read people just fine.” You bite back in confidence.

“Really?” He challenges you, leaning forward with a whisper, “Then I suggest you look a bit closer.”

The bartender hammers Seokjin’s drink down in front of him while he slides yours along gently, giving you a chance to inspect a stunning work of art on his hand, a flock of birds flying in formation following the trail between his thumb and index. He catches your stare and while you might be embarrassed at your lingering eyes he teases the skin of his lip between his teeth. “I’ll let you get back to your date.” He gives you one last flash of a grin as he backs away into what must be a stock room.

“It’s not a... date.” You start to explain but it’s reduced to a sigh once the man leaves your sight.

Seokjin presses a napkin to your mouth prompting you to look back at him in utter confusion. “Sorry, thought I spotted some drool,” He dabs the corner of your lips. “Just there.”

You steal the napkin from his hand and toss it on the bar. “Thank you for your concern.” You take a long draft of your drink refusing to look at your fellow agent.

“Someone must be thirsty.” He snickers, not bothering to keep his laughter hidden.

“What can I say, the refreshments at the base have been far from gratifying.” Your quip might be implied but it hits its mark with flawless execution.

“Hey!” The volume of Seokjin’s voice rises to a new level to aid in his defence. “I’ll have you know I’ve been called an acquired taste.”

“You’ll have to forgive my pallet for not meeting your standards then. I’m in need of something that goes down a bit easier.”

You take your victory in the form of Seokjin’s reddening ears and sputter from his lips. “After that confession, I’m almost sorry to be standing between you and that tall drink. Almost.” He reiterates with a wink.

“It’s probably for the best.” You sigh, finally dropping the banter. “He might be interested now, but I bet that would change pretty quickly if he got to know me.”

“I doubt that.” He whispers right before he takes a sip. You can’t be entirely sure that he intended you to hear his comment.

“Oh really? You’ve spent the past week in very close proximity with me. How would you describe me?”

“There’s definitely a mix of frustration, with a side agitation, and a need for provocation. ” You let out a heavy groan while he continues. “Now some might find those to be unlikable traits, but I’ve come to find them very endearing.”

You snort into your drink. “That’s the best joke you’ve told yet.”

Seokjin nods carrying the weight of a small smile on his lips. “What about me? I’d be curious to hear how you read my personality.”

“Are you sure about that?’

He nods, “Hit me with your best shot... if you can.”

He might think you unable to read people, but you can’t wait to prove him wrong. Your words spill faster than you intend, creating an improvisational soliloquy into his psyche.“You deflect with humor constantly, which in turn prevents anyone from getting close because they can tell what you truly feel about them. Can’t take an order without asking a question. You’re determined to a fault, but you also use that drive when you’re concerned that something’s wrong. Not letting anything rest until you’ve fixed what can be fixed.”

He holds your gaze, sitting there in silent disbelief before he comes to and lashes out, “Completely incorrect, it’s a wonder you became an agent.” He shakes his head with a scoff before finishing his drink in one sip.

“Nice deflection,” you counter. “I rest my case.”

He narrows his eyes and gives no response other than to call for another round.

...

After finishing the second you’re about to suggest your return to the base, but the frown on Seokjin’s face as he looks into the bottom of his glass stops you. It should be an unwritten rule that men who look as good as him aren’t allowed to pout. How are you supposed to remain in charge when he can disarm you in seconds with a simple jut of his lip? It’s the one tool in his arsenal he has yet to use, you can only hope he doesn’t realize how effective it is on you.

You’re quick to order the next batch, and half way through the third he poses a question that he must have been holding on to. “You said in your analysis that people have trouble reading me because of my humour, how do I act when I really like someone?”

“How would I know?” You raise your brow along with your drink.

“Then how do you think I should act? You know, so it’s not misconstrued as humour.”

“Level with the person, have a serious conversation for a fraction of a second.” It feels odd to be giving him your input on such a matter. Why would he ask this of you? And why do you mentally recoil when you start to think of him using that advice on someone else?

“If that's the case, I should probably tell you...” He leans in towards you, his face just inches away. Your heart stops as his hand reaches out to cover yours. He pauses there for a moment watching your expression, “I need to,” The gaps in his speech are big enough for your mind to flee from reality, creating a scenario where he admits... “I need to go use the facilities.” A half-hearted chuckle pours of him along with the words which break you from your daydream.

“Then go,” You snap, your tone surprising even to you. It’s not like you wanted to have a serious moment with him, right? But the pain in your chest says otherwise.

“Are you... I was just kidding around,” he stammers.

What did you expect him to say, that he thinks of you as more than just an agent, even more than a friend? Did you want him to close the gap and kiss you? Oh god, you did. You like him. You like Kim Seokjin, and right then and there you wanted him to confess the same to you.

“Yeah I got it,” you mutter back, trying to cover your internal shock. “That’s all you ever do.”

Seokjin gets up from his seat and heads to the washroom. Leaving you at the bar to contemplate his words.

You feel like you’ve fallen into every trap you told yourself not to. But that can’t be right, it’s not like you fell for his fake smiles or flirtation. You must be drunk, that’s the only explanation. How else could you ever think that he might actually hold even a shred of feelings for you. He feels sorry for you, that’s all, that’s why you're here with him now. And once he’s treated your wounds, once he no longer feels guilty, he can go back to flirting with you and everyone else to get whatever he wants.

The bell over the door chimes as a large group of people enter. You immediately look away, embarrassed by your current distress, turning your head to focus instead on the photos of the owner and his patrons pinned to the walls. Dabbing the corner of your eyes with the tip of your finger.

Despite the number of newcomers the bar still remains oddly quiet. From a group of six you would expect the volume of conversation to be a bit more boisterous. With your instincts and suspicions now aroused, you keep an eye on them in the mirror over the bar. Darting your eyes back to their reflection every few seconds, never wanting to linger too long. You’re about to throw away your apprehension, blaming it on your current level of anxiety on Seokjin, when something inexplicable happens.

As the man seated in the middle leans towards one of his companions for a chat, his hand rises to rub his long nose, and in what you can only describe as a rendering problem, it passes through. You try to remain calm grabbing your glasses from your purse, turning yourself slightly you manage to edge his face in the very corner of your frames. With the tap of your finger to the rim of the specs you launch an application you created but never had the need to use personally.

When you had first designed your car, Yoongi had complained that even with the locater he had difficulty finding the vehicle when he left it cloaked. It was a reasonable request that prompted you to create a function that scans for visual distortions and creates a digital replication of what lies beneath the camouflage. And now as you activate that function you find what Seokjin and the others hadn’t been able to track down for months, the face of Hwang.

He must be wearing what you can only guess is a variation on your technology, but instead of making his face invisible it projects different facial features over some of his own. It takes all of your restraint not to let out the swear taking up residence on the tip of your tongue. Why are they here of all places? Do they know that Seokjin is here? They look as if they’re waiting for someone. A potential mark, a seller, or maybe a buyer?

Regardless of motive if your colleague steps out of the bathroom he’ll walk right into their view. You pull your glasses off leaving them on the bar, and call out to the keep. “Would you mind watching my stuff for me?” You gesture to your coat and specs putting on a fake smile. “Don’t want to lose my seat.”

“Don’t worry.” He confirms with a soft tone along with a grin. “I’ll keep them safe.”

Gliding off the stool, avoiding the stares of the target and his men, you slip into the hall and behind the men’s room door. Thankfully Seokjin’s already at the sink by this point. You find him hunched over hands pressing down on the counter as he lets out a long sigh.

As he combs back his hair with damp fingers he looks up. Meeting your eyes in the mirror with embarrassment and disbelief, he lets out a small self pitting laugh. “Listen if you’re here to tell me off I get it, I didn’t mean-”

“Put your glasses on. You have them right?” You join him at the sink while his pity turns to confusion.

“What-”

“Just do it.”

He fumbles to retrieve them from his jacket pocket before sliding them on. You move in as close as you can, bracing yourself on his arms so you can speak into the receiver embedded. Seokjin looks taken aback but remains still as you encroach on his space. “Call Merlin, auto-connect override authorization 2769.” That creates a connection between the two glasses without you having to be there to answer it, allowing Seokjin to see the issue at hand.

“Fuck.” He whispers right next to your ear as you remain close, getting ready to call in for backup.

“My thoughts exactly.” You mutter, unable to decide if this is a stroke of good luck or bad. “Add secondary line, call Lancelot.”

Seokjin leans his head down so the speaker falls next to your own ear. It’s not the best connection with the audio from the bar, but at least you can hear Hoseok. “Merlin, Galahad. What- am I seeing this right?”

“Yes, Hwang’s at our location, Choi’s bar. We’re not sure of his purpose here, but he’s brought a few friends.”

“I can see that, but why are you both there?”

“Not the time. We’re in the restroom but not in an adequate state to take on so many and secure the target. How long will it take you to get here?” You try to gloss over your lack of sobriety, but Hoseok doesn’t fall for the guise of your paraphrasing.

“Not in an adequate state huh? That’s an expression for drunk I haven’t heard before. Sending a message to Percival, I can have him and the team on site in 10 minutes. Can you maintain your current position?”

“Yeah small problem with that...” Seokjin comments.

“I heard it too, maintain cover at all cost. We can’t scare them away.” Hoseok’s voice flutters, sounding almost nervous.

“Heard what?” You can barely make out Hoseok’s words, let alone the taproom.

“Someone’s coming to check the bathrooms. They’re looking for any people of interest.”

“We could try slipping out the back door,” You offer.

Only for Hoseok to throw a wrench in your suggestion. “If it’s a business dealing they might have people posted there.”

“We need a distraction then?” You ask and Seokjin returns with a nod. Just hiding in a stall won’t do either, they’ll likely wait for the occupants to come out. You have to make them uncomfortable enough to leave without looking too close. You’ll probably regret what you're about to do later, but right now your options are limited.

You reach out and grip Seokjin’s shirt, drawing him into you so he has you pressed against the counter. He catches on quickly, putting his hands on your waist he lifts you up and onto the marble surface. “Make it look good Seokjin. Shouldn’t be hard for you to put on a show, you’ve had so much practice with me already.” His act of concern, and portrayal of affection have shown you he should do just fine when it comes to a performance of lust.

“It wasn’t my intent to toy with you.” He growls back before snatching your mouth with his, forceful enough to ensure swollen lips and smudged lipstick. One of his hands rises to your hair pulling the elastic out of place. Allowing his fingers to weave between the strands, he delivers a slight tug to your roots while you drag your teeth across his bottom lip.

You push his suit jacket off his wide shoulders, throwing it down on the counter next to you, before forcefully opening the top of his shirt, accidentally ripping the button off his collar in the process. He pauses his assault on your mouth for a moment, investigating the damage you imposed.

“It wasn’t my intent to destroy your shirt, but here we are,” You explain unfastening the next two buttons with a bit more care. Your fingers dip under the crisp white cotton of his shirt, raking visible lines down his chest. “Take responsibility for your actions for once. Tell people your true intentions or you will hurt them.”

“You want me to know my intentions? Fine.” He unzips your dress a few inches to bare your collar and shoulders before his lips target your neck. You close your eyes letting your head roll back. “I want this.” Seokjin grabs your upper thigh compelling a gasp to escape you. “I want you.” He confesses the same time the door creaks open.

There’s not much movement from Hwang’s lackey. Your new audience doesn’t come in far, instead he freezes in place when he spots the both of you. Seokjin addresses him in a gruff manner without turning his face away from you . “It’s not a free show buddy, take your piss and leave.” The man clears his throat, turns round and closes the door in his wake, leaving you once alone with Seokjin. Though revelling in his soft bites to your neck, gaining back your composer is a more pressing matter. “I think he’s gone.”

“We can’t be too sure,” Seokjin counters your observation as he continues to nip at the column of your throat. “He might come back.”

“Shit, I just lost visual of the bar.” Hoseok interrupts much to your embarrassment. You somehow forgot he was on the com-line during your effort to teach your fellow agent a lesson. “We’re running blind, maintain cover for now.”

“See?” The breath of Seokjin’s laughter is felt on your skin as he wins the debate.

“You really want to keep going with this?” You’re surprised, just a few minutes ago the man was making you the butt of his joke. Why the change?

“I wouldn’t mind. I’m just sorry we couldn’t be somewhere more intimate, or private.”

“You and me both,” Hoseok deadpans.

“Lancelot, I suggest you find something else to watch while we maintain cover as directed,” Seokjin instructs. You find his mouth back on yours before he gets a response on the com.

He’s right though the circumstances are less than ideal for a romp. The damp counter beneath you, the flickering fluorescent lights, and the out of order stall in the corner are all enough to make you cringe. No part of this is glamorous except for the man standing in front of you, which makes him all the more appealing. “We could just lock the door you know.” You offer a logical substitute plan. “I’m sure after what they’ve seen they would understand and we could stop this charade.”

“But where’s the fun in that? I’m sorry but I am too dedicated to this cover. I want to see it through.”

“Percival’s team will be dropping in two minutes.” Hoseok cuts in.

“Yes sir,” Seokjin mumbles against your lips while he responds to Hoseok, not dwelling on the interruption. “We should probably make the act more realistic, you know gasps, moans, they might be listening.”

You highly doubt that, but if he wants to play, fine. You’ll show him what he’s missing when he casts you aside. “You first.” You respond, tugging him between your legs, causing the hem of your dress to ride back. His cock erect beneath his pants and pressing against your clothed core. He lets out a groan of relief. “So unlike you to be already standing at attention.” You tease him.

“What can I say, you bring out the best in me,” he gasps in response.

Seokjin takes your legs in his hands driving your dress even further up your thighs as he proceeds to grind against you. He tilts his head with a smile while you react. “Too far?” He whispers.

You shake your head. If only he knew what he would find if he pulled your underwear aside. Your cunt, committing the ultimate treason against your better sensibility, is ready and willing. If he’s not careful he might get a darkened spot on his suit pants.

As one hand slides further up the inside of your thigh, the other takes your chin directing you to meet his eyes. His fingers tease the edge of your underwear making their presence known and as he waits for permission to go further. You nod back at him. His fingers slip behind the strip of fabric, separating your sopping slit from the damp material. “Looks like you’re well prepared too Merlin.”

“I guess so,” You tease, “Do remind me to give a big tip to the bartender for that.”

“I have a hard time believing that none of this belongs to me.” Seokjin murmurs back to you, but just as his knuckles graze your slick folds and clit, Yoongi announces his team’s arrival. “Another time I guess,” Seokjin whispers with a final kiss to your cheek. He helps you off the counter and pulls down your dress to a more respectable length while he takes one last stroke of your thigh.

“I take it’s safe to restore visual now?” Hoseok asks with a hint of laughter. You’re never going to hear the end of this. “Percival’s about to enter, I do suggest locking the door this time though. In case anyone does make a run for it, we’ll catch them outback. I don’t want you two engaging in this capture if you don’t have too.” You roll your eyes over Hoseok’s word choice. “Galahad, give Merlin the glasses. I want her input on the scene.”

Seokjin hands off his glasses to you and proceeds to lock you both in.

“Where are they stationed?” You inquire trying to get a full view of the task now at hand.

“The majority including Percival are entering through in the front, and a couple men out back, there was no one there so they must not be expecting a scene. Were there any civilians on site?”

“Just the barman.”

“Okay hang tight.” Hoseok orders.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t be helping?” You ask, wanting to distract yourself from the tension between you and Seokjin.

“Nah, Percival’s got this. Besides I saw your reflection and you’re looking a little flushed Merlin, you doing okay?”

“Shut up Lancelot,” you grumble back in a muffled tone.

“Was it the alcohol or was it Galahad?” Luckily Seokjin was too far away to hear Hoseok's last question letting you ignore the comment as the team makes their entrance. Yoongi’s glasses give you the full view of what he sees. Hwang, much to your surprise, actually looks interested in the presence of the new arrivals. They’re obviously waiting for someone to show, but it’s clear that they have no idea who to look for.

“Don’t jump on the arrest so fast.” You direct, looking to gain any positive out of this awkward mission. The reward very much outweighing the risk. “You might be able to get some information first. Come off as a buyer, they might be trying to move the information or the tech.”

“You heard her Percival, get as much as you can before we make the catch.” Hoseok confirms your plan back to the rest of the team.

You watch barely drawing breath as he takes a seat across from the target. Hwang opens up the conversation first, “I didn’t think you would bring so many men just for a demonstration.”

“I prefer not to take any chances.” Yoongi’s response is blase, as he beckons the barman over to give his order.

Hwang looks uncomfortable, for someone with a product to sell he’s lacking the usual confidence that you would expect to see. “Well this should provide for your needs then. You ask me to come to the thick of their territory and as you can see I’m still here.”

“You are, but how do we know they aren’t waiting to make a strike? Have you ever seen one?” Yoongi pushes, he must be taking great enjoyment out of finally being able to pull one over on the man who’s kept them searching for so long.

“I have, once, but I’ve been able to keep myself hiding for months with this.” He taps something a bud placed in his ear. It must be what’s projecting the image overlay on his face disguising his true features. “Camera’s can’t pick up my face underneath, it’s better than any mask you can buy, as requested.”

“Where did you get the tech?”

“You-” The man pauses, his brow furrows before his expression shifts to a blank slate. He makes a subtle reach for his jacket pocket, but Yoongi is quicker on the draw. Lunging across the table he grabs the back of Hwang’s neck and smashes his head down on the table.

It’s hard to see the rest of the fighting with only Yoongi’s perspective. You catch flashes of the scene as the target’s men retaliate. There’s a flurry of pint glasses to distract as firearms are drawn. Broken shards scatter the establishment as the bartender flees away from danger towards the back exit with a phone to his ear.

The altercation ends rather quickly, with those who are still conscious held at gunpoint by Yoongi’s men. It’s a relief to see the target secured, and the tech recovered, but you are left with disgust after having your own work be used against your team.

Hoseok gives you the all clear to leave, but you're not sure you're ready to face the others just yet. “Could you give me a minute?” You request from Seokjin as he goes to open the door. He gives you a nod along with your hair tie, while you hand back his glasses.

“Yeah, I’ll just go... fetch our coats.”

“Could you find my glasses too while you’re out there Galahad?”

He freezes for a fraction of a second before giving you a hesitant response, “Yeah... yeah sure thing.”

What, no funny retort? No rebuttal? You thought calling him by his title would cause him to taunt you a little, but nothing comes of it. “If you can’t find them, the barkeep might have them.” That’s probably why the signal went dark, he must have moved them for safe keeping.

“Great. Just who I wanted to see.” He responds with a forced smile and gritted teeth.

“If it’s that much of a problem I’ll go get them back myself.”

Seokjin leaves you with a grunt, “No, no, I’ll go see the cowardly Casanova.”

The second he opens the restroom door you can hear Yoongi shout a request. “Galahad can I leave the team out back in your care? I need to move out and take this thief to Arthur for questioning.”

Hwang had apparently regained consciousness, and starts arguing in his defence. “I didn’t steal that data! I just set them up with someone to make their tech. They were supposed to come here, they asked for a demonstration here and then stood us up!”

Yoongi chooses to ignore him while he continues to give orders to Seokjin. “Make sure they drug the civilian, and then toss him behind the bar. Shouldn’t need to do much more than that, it already looks like standard bar brawl damage.”

“That I can do,” Seokjin responds with satisfaction as he steps out letting the door close between the two of you. It’s amazing how much one flirtatious bartender appears to have got under his skin.

You take a few minutes to straighten yourself in the mirror. Tying up your hair and closing the zipper on your dress when you spot several smudges of lipstick across your skin. You reach blindly for the paper towel, only to knock your purse to the floor in the process. A couple items roll away. Your pen, to your frustration, makes it all the way into the out of order stall. As tempted you are to leave it, you know it wouldn’t be wise to have something so lethal on the floor of a public bathroom.

With a groaning you crouch down, peering through the couple of inches between the stall door and the floor. Finding the missing item next to a pair of well worn leather shoes. You throw yourself back in shock grabbing your pistol from your overturned clutch, taking aim at the door bearing the sign. With a swift kick you force the stall open, and there passed out on the toilet is the man from the pictures behind the bar, the owner that Seokjin was asking after.

“Shit.” You lower your gun as you run out of the bathroom calling out for back up. The bar is deserted though, Yoongi’s team has already left, forcing you to head down the long hall to the back door alone. You slow your steps as you reach the end of the corridor, starting to pick up bits of conversation between Seokjin and the imposter. You keep yourself plastered to the wall trying to assess the situation with a narrow view through the window next to the door.

The once friendly bartender points a gun at Seokjin. The other agents, those that were supposed to be keeping an eye on the ‘civilian’ are out of commission, all laying on the ground around him.

“Call her out here, now.” The barman still holds onto his smile as he makes his demand, but now it only gives you chills as you try to puzzle out the motive behind it.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Seokjin keeps his hands at eye level, he’s trying to play the role of innocent bystander but that’ll only get him shot if he’s not careful.

“The woman with you, that was Merlin, was it not? She designed this tech didn’t she?” He lifts your glasses for Seokjin to see. “And created the original cloaking program. I never should have outsourced it, she saw right through their guise. Since their product was faulty, I’ve been given a new directive.”

“Merlin? You mean like the magician in the old tales? Trust me that woman is nothing of the sort.” Seokjin is actually now chuckling despite having a gun held to him.

“Very well, if you won’t comply. We’ll just have to go retrieve her together.” He gestures Seokjin to the door with his gun. “After you.”

You shift yourself into position behind the door, when Seokjin opens it you remain concealed on the other side. Your fellow agent steps through, moving backwards to keep his eyes on the assailant, allowing him to spot you once he’s inside. You raise a finger to your lips holding your gun to your chest. You can’t let him give off any indication that he’s seen you.

When Seokjin’s a few feet down the hall the aggressor proceeds to follow, and once his arm crosses the threshold you ram your full weight against the door. There’s a howl of pain as you trap his forearm in the door frame. The gun drops from his hand and hits the floor. Seokjin moves first taking the weapon and then the arm of the man who pointed it at him. You release the door and Seokjin drags the enemy in, throwing him against the wall. There’s a sickening crack as his head meets the concrete behind him.

Though his body is now lip and eyes in a daze he still chuffs when he spots you, “So nice of you to join us Merlin, we were just talking about you.”

Seokjin pulls back a fist letting land on the man's face with the full force of a brutal punch, finally sending the culprit into a comatose state.

“You okay?” You ask, noting his unusually rigid composure.

Seokjin nods, straightening his jacket as he lets the imposter fall to the floor. “Looks like I was right, you did catch his attention.” He boasts, with levity returning to his voice. “How did you know to come find me?”

“Found Choi, right where he said he’d be too...” You watch as Seokjin crouches down to retrieve your glasses from the man. “Who is he?”

“I don’t know, but I doubt he works alone.” Seokjin comments while staring at the tattoo that had caught your eye earlier, a flock in the shape of a V.

...

Yoong makes a return trip, picking up the new captive as well as aiding the unconscious agents. The detainees will be moved to headquarters where they’ll be held for questioning before they’re turned over to the authorities along with a list of transgressions and admissible evidence.

After returning from the bar your base is busier than ever, with everyone following standard procedure and filing reports. There’s hardly room to move, let alone have a private moment with Seokjin to discuss what transpired. A full night and day go by with you only being able to lock eyes with him across the room. As much as you want to talk to him, your duty comes first, ensuring that everyone receives their new orders after the unusual turn of events.

You retreat to your room after a long day of report processing. There are still a few statements left to grab but those can be done tomorrow. The first recordings of the interrogation have come in and you're desperate to hear what Hwang has to say about the tech you found him with. To your delight it’s that exact question which Namjoon poses first.

Hwang rattles off the information, needing little prompting, they must have already cut a deal. “I was contacted by an anonymous client over a year ago, they asked if I might know of someone who could utilize a cloaking program they had picked up, and apply it to something else. They wanted a mask, a way to hide in plain sight. I offered up a tech company who does some backwater dealings in armaments and weapons, and became the middleman between the two parties until the project was finished.”

“And you have no idea who hired you?” Namjoon asks. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Their wallet was big enough their identity wasn’t a concern, my main contact only referred to himself as V. He called me to the bar last night to provide a final demonstration to prove it worked before his agency made the purchase.”

Seokjin was right, Hwang was just a fence. Which would confirm the other man part of the group who orchestrated the data breach.

You switch between the video files, hoping to find the other more enlightening. In the very centre of the shot sits the man dubbed as V. He answers none of the questions directed to him. Minutes pass while he remains silent looking directly into the camera with a jeering grin and narrowed eyes. It’s off putting to say the least, no offer or deal can sway him to spill his knowledge. He looks content almost as if this is exactly where he wants to be. While the interrogators become increasingly frustrated, his smile only grows wider.

You close out of the recording unable to take the silent stares any more. There’s nothing in his file they’ve attached other than physical attributes. As you search the empty pages for a scrap of knowledge, a call request comes in from Arthur. You throw on your glasses answering in haste hoping he’ll have something new to share.

“Sorry to bother you so late. It’s been quite a day.” His voice is full of cracks and weariness.

“It’s no problem. I can only imagine after seeing the footage. Any new information on who this man works for?

“No, nothing.”

“Oh,” Your voice echoes in confusion, “Was there something else you needed? Did you get my report?”

“Yes I did, thorough as usual. But it’s not your report I wanted to discuss.” Namjoon pauses again. ”I received an unusual request from Galahad at the end of his. I wanted to talk it over with you before I gave my answer.”

“Go ahead.” You cringe fearing what he might have said in his statement.

“I freed him from lock down, and offered a new assignment, but he requested permission to stay and assist you with the vehicle repairs until they were completed. I would permit his extension, but I don’t believe that the answer to this decision rests fully with me, so I’m leaving it to you.”

“Don’t you need him back in the field? We don’t know who this man V is, or who he’s working for.”

“And it’s doubtful that we’ll learn anything more anytime soon unless he starts answering our questions. There’s little direction in where we can take the investigation right now. I don’t have anything that requires urgent attention, that’s why the choice is yours to make. If you need help or want assistance he’s offering it to you.”

“Thank you sir,” You’re grateful that he has left you with the final decision on the matter. “Would you mind if I spoke to him first before I decide?”

“Not at all.”

...

You creep out into the common area, Hoseok is splayed out on the couch while Yoongi’s curled up on the armchair, but Seokjin is nowhere to be found. Did he leave the base taking advantage of his newly acquired freedom?

You doubt you’ll be able to sleep, not with the questions you have running through your head. Looking to keep your mind busy you descend the stairs and enter the passcode to your workshop, only to find the lights already on and Seokjin’s long legs sticking out from under the car. There’s a swear and a clang of a metal tool hitting the cement floor. You hold back a laugh as you approach, choosing instead to surprise him by pulling on the roller bed to tug him out from beneath the car.

The initial shock on his face quickly changes to a smug grin. “I guess I’ve been caught.”

“Trying to sabotage my work again?”

“No, if you can believe it I’m actually trying to be an aid rather than a hindrance.”

“I’ll alert the media.” You fire back before diving into the more serious topic at hand. “I just got off the line with Arthur. He said you’ve been cleared to return to duty...”

Seokjin’s face falls slightly as he sits up on the rolling platform, “Oh-”

“But you also requested an extension here.”

“I did.” He looks up at you with sincerity, one that’s rarely seen on his face. No deflection to humour. This is just him.

“I need to know why.” You keep your expression even, not wanting your feelings to influence him in any way.

“I want to help fix the car.”

“I need more of an explanation than that Seokjin. A few days ago you couldn’t wait to get out of here. ” This is it, there’s no room to spare feelings. He’ll tell you he feels guilty, or that he feels sorry for you, leaving you to send him on his way and that will be the end of this trial.

“I don’t want things to go back to the way they were before. I like working with you, being here with you. You're not afraid to let me know when I’ve crossed the line.”

“So what, you just want to use me to keep you in check? I’m not here to fix you Seokjin.” You start to back away ready to send word to Namjoon that he’s free to assign him elsewhere when Seokjin grabs your hand, he rises from his spot on the floor in a rush to stand between you and the door.

“That’s not what I meant. You make me want to be better.”

You pull yourself from his grip backing into the side of the car, “And after you’ve used me to better yourself, what then? You’ll just move on to your next project?”

“No, fuck... I don’t know how else I can say it other than I like you Merlin. You aren’t the plan, you’re the objective.” He pauses for a moment, watching as his words sink in to you. “If you’re not interested in what I want to offer... I get it, but stop being so blind when it comes to yourself!”

You fall still as you hear his confession, but you’re not ready to believe or condemn his words just yet. “If that’s the case why did you mock me at the bar?” Your voice wavers as you question him. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I was going to, but I didn’t think you would appreciate a drunken confession. You wanted a serious conversation, here it is. I want to stay here with you. Even if you’re not interested in a relationship, I respect that, but I still think we could both benefit from working together.”

He’s right, you might have believed him right then, but later, once the effects of the alcohol had worn off you would’ve thought it another game of his. You shift against the car embarrassed by your misreading of his motives, but pleased to see that they fall in line with your own.

“I wouldn’t say that I wasn’t interested...” You mumble your own confession carefully as he shifts in closer to his mouth catching a grin when he hears your words. “But staying would put you in a problematic position when you’re required to follow my orders. If we’re to continue down this path there wouldn’t be an equal power dynamic.”

“Good.” he mutters along with a chuckle. “Is that your only objection?”

“Yes, but-”

“Arthur released me from under your command. Any order you give will be discretionary.”

“Discretionary orders?” You scoff. “You can barely follow mandatory orders.”

“Yes but it solves your problem, doesn't it? This way you can be sure that I will only follow an order if I want to.” He leans in placing his hands on either side of you on the hood of the car. “So Merlin, do you want me to stay?”

“Yes...”

“Do you want to continue what we started yesterday?”

You nod biting your lip at the thought of it.

“Then I await your orders.” He stands still not moving an inch while you remain caged between his arms and caught in his eyes.

“Let’s be clear on something first,” You state, trying not to focus on how close his lips are or how soft they’ll feel when they touch your skin.“I don’t want you to think you are in any way saving me.”

“I am well aware of that now. I finally realise I need you to save me.”

“From what?” You can’t help but laugh at his conclusion.

“My impulsive actions.” He lifts you onto the car just like he lifted you onto the bathroom counter. “My runaway mouth.” He closes the distance for a swift kiss. “And my very unprofessional desires.” His fingers flirt with the bottom of your shirt taking up residence underneath the garment against the skin of your waist.

“Yet you combat every effort when someone tries to restrain those tendencies,” You scold with a smile.

“You told me yourself I don’t go down easily... If you want to put me in my place you’re going to be more commanding.”

“And you would like that?” You ask in disbelief.

“Why don’t you find out...”

“Seokjin I-I don’t know if I-” You start to panic, stammering at the thought of going too far and becoming what others have thought of you before, “I don’t want you to hate...”

“If I need to stop I’ll tell you to brake. But right now I really want you to take the wheel, and put your foot down. No detours, just floor it.” He tightens his hold on you leaning in next to your ear with a growl. “Don’t get shy on me now. Give me your orders.”

The cheek in his tone at last sets off the need for retaliation in you, evoking a desire to finally see him begging you for more. He’s never backed away from you, leaving you with no reason to believe he’ll do so now. If this is what he wants you’ll be happy to try and make him submit. “You can start with losing this.” You tug on his grease stained shirt. “And these too.” Dragging your finger over the waist of his jeans.

He strips looking eager to play along. Leaving him in a pair of black boxers clinging to his swelling girth. “Like what you see?”

“You’ll do.” You snicker back at him. You take the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss, as he moves to hold your lower back. He finds his way between your thighs once again but this time there’s nothing to stop you both from going further.

“Do you want to take those off?” You brush your hands on the elastic of his underwear.

“Yes.” His answer is short and sweet, with nothing to misinterpret. You could get used to this side of him.

“Then you’ll have to do something for me first.” You shift your pants down kicking them to the floor. Taking one last kiss of Seokjin’s lips before pressing his shoulders down to make his mouth level with your hips. The grin he gives is something to revel in, finally seeing it as a sign of desire rather than a farce.

He pulls your underwear to the side. The first lick is short and sweet causing you to flinch from the flick of his tongue. The second he takes care in following the line of your slit but he doesn’t pull away at the end, instead he latches on to your clit taking deep drags which pull you under in an instant.

Your hand reaches out to grip his hair needing something to hold on to and hold him back with if necessary, but once your fingers tug at Seokjin’s locks he moans into your flesh. His hands pull you closer to the edge of the car allowing him to bury himself even deeper.

He slowly gains a rhythm with his tongue and lips, but every time you come close, when your breathing becomes shallow he starts to pull back. He’s teasing you, clearly goading you to become more strict with your desires.

“No more games Seokjin. If you can’t get me there in the next minute, I promise you’ll regret it.”

He pulls away for a moment to draw breath while giving you a taunt. “I’d like to see that.”

He’s about to return to his task when you push him back, no longer giving him the chance at redemption. You point to a straight back chair facing away from you , “Sit down, with your head forward.”

He does as you ask with a smile still stuck to the corner of his mouth. You slide off the car and move behind him towards your work desk, stripping off your shirt, and undergarments as you stray from his line of sight. Grabbing something from the inventory closet before you return to him, still hiding from his gaze .

He tries to look back at you but you put a stop to that. “Did I say you could look around?”

“No ma’am.” He chuckles back.

“Since you like games so much I thought of one to play. Give me your hand, and tell me what I put in it without looking.”

“I don’t see what this has to do with-” You cut off his complaint quickly by placing the metal object in his hand reaching out behind him. “Handcuffs?” Seokjin questions with surprise. “I stand corrected, this seems like a fun game.”

“Put them on,” you order. He complies instantly, letting you check the tightness once he’s done. “Safey’s there if you need it. Just tell me to brake.”

“Oh no, I’m quite comfortable thank you.” He grins proudly as if this is what he was hoping for all along.

As you move in front of him finally gracing him with your nude form he stares back at you dumbfounded. You reach out to the corner of his mouth, which sits agape, wiping at the edge of his lips with your thumb. “Sorry I thought I spotted some drool.” Seokjin smiles at your mimicry and jab, but he has no words to follow with.

You kneel down in front of him, your hands trailing up to reach for his boxers. “May I?”

“Please do.”

You tug them down releasing his erection from the confines of the fabric. You're careful not to touch him, not wishing to give any satisfaction or stimulation. Once they’re pulled down to his ankles you move to the uninstalled backseat of the car sitting right across from him. Seokjin furrows his brow in confusion.

“Something wrong?” You prompt hoping to have him admit that he wants you to return to him.

“No, just admiring the view.”

“Really?” You persist in teasing him a little more, “Because it looks like you need something.”

“Only to know the next step in this game of yours.”

“You get to watch while I play.” You lay back on the car bench resting your feet on the soft leather. Your hand moving down between your legs picking up where Seokjin left off, with a slow rub to your crest.

“That seems unfair.” He flexes his arms, testing the cuffs as he watches you.

“That’s what happens when you don’t read the instructions, I get to make the rules.” He lets out a groan as you close your eyes ready to concentrate on your own pleasure. You know you’re wet enough already but for good measure and Seokjin’s torturous show you prep your fingers in your mouth before slipping the tip of your index finger inside yourself.

There’s a small whine from Seokjin, you look over to him, your eyes take a moment to focus on his face, his teeth digging into his now swollen bottom lip. “Let me help you, please.”

“That’s not how punishments work Seokjin. You had your chance, and you disobeyed.”

Giving him a side profile allows your thigh to hide the sight of your fingers dipping in. The sounds though, those are his to enjoy. You continue to satisfy yourself for a while longer enjoying the little jots of pleasure you can give yourself and Seokjin’s moan every time you twitch. It’s hard not to pay attention and give in to returning to him. With his cock pulsing against his leg with a drop of precum growing at the tip. His lip must be sore with how hard he’s biting down.

Unable to ignore his whimpers any longer you get up from the leather bench. You present your fingers to his mouth damp from your ministrations. You don’t even get the chance to ask before he takes them into his mouth and licks them clean. When you pull them from his lips, he beams back at you. “Was that attentive enough for you?”

“Very...” You commend him, straddling his legs facing him as you lower yourself. Your hand grips his cock while the other rests on his shoulder balancing yourself as you guide him inside.

He gasps out a swear along with your real name as you sink down fully onto his lap. You lean into him letting your chest push against his as you rise and fall on his shaft. Pressing and grinding yourself against his seated form has him throbbing inside of you. He’s quickly become a breathy mess beneath you, a sheen of sweat covers his forehead, with even more dripping down his pecs.

Your pace increases in speed as you edge closer to your climax. The warmth begins to spread to your extremities as you continue to thrust down. When the wave finally washes over you can barely move. “Fuck-” You whisper along with a plea. “Don’t you dare come yet.” You collapse against him riding it out, clenching while Jin groans.

“Take the cuffs off.” His moaning request is impossible to deny. As fun as it was to see him at your mercy you long to have his hands back on you.

You reach for the restraints behind his back, with a quick press of a hidden release he’s free. Wasting no time he grabs you, helping your legs to wrap around his waist. Positioning you securely against him, he rises to move two steps required in order to ram you back down onto the car bench.

He pulls one leg up and over his shoulder while he holds the other level with his hip. Despite your sensitivity, he’s relentless in his thrusts, pushing you directly from the wave you just finished and on to the next.

He’s so close to his end, his muscles tense, his face stern with a clenched jaw, it takes a moment for you to realize he’s waiting for your permission. He’s holding back until you give him the okay. “You can come Seokjin.” Upon hearing this his thrusts suddenly hit harder forcing you to cry out. “Fuck, please come.”

He shudders with the last impact. Releasing your legs, he lowers himself onto you while his cock still pulses inside. His head rests on the seat beside yours, the hot air from his heavy pants flows down your neck as you lay there trying to catch your own breath.

“I think we might have ruined the new car seat.” You chuckle at him, your laughter restricted by the pressure of his body on your chest. “I should probably order another.”

“And miss out on Hoseok’s expression when he realized what the stains are from?” He nudges closer, kissing the spot behind your ear with his swollen lips. “Not a chance.”

You start to drift beneath him content with the warmth and weight of his form. He gives you a few minutes rest caressing the side of your face with the tip of his finger before he poses an important question. “You’re still okay with me staying here then?”

You turn your head to meet his eyes with a smirk. “Yes, but you still have to earn your keep if you want a stay.” You gesture to the state that he’s left the workshop in, “In addition to cleaning up your mess.”

Seokjin briefly glances to the tools strewn along the ground and then back at you with a smirk. He then shifts his whole body down, dipping his head back between your legs. “Yes ma’am.” His tongue takes a long stroke, cupping your cum filled cunt. “Hope you don’t mind if I start here.”

#bts smut #seokjin smut #seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts reader insert #jin x reader #bts x reader #bts kingsman au #bts in need of orders #jin smut

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ardent-musings · 4 years ago

Text

“Focused” Part 2

Orion Amari Smut

Based off this submission by @lifeofkaze

You can read this smut on its own however it is a Part 2, so if you want, you can read Part One here.

“First of, this is your fault, I’ve turned into such a simp since we became friends 😂

Second, I get content starved so quickly these days, maaaay I ask you for another Orion blurb if you’re up to it?😅🤦‍♀️

Wait wait, hear me out: how about after what happened in ‘Focus’ they watch the match for the third place before their final match and she wants to repay him in kind for what he did to her in class? And he’s like wanna ‘take this somewhere else’ but she’s just ‘tempting, but this here is retribution’. Wouldn’t blame her for giving in eventually though 😂

I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened to me but I can’t help it it’s just too much fun 😁”

EVERYONE IN THIS STORY IS OF AGE AND CONSENTING

Warnings: NSFW 18+, public sex, exhibitionism, handjob m receiving, teasing, more dom!reader if you squint

It was early January when you and the rest of the Hufflepuff team were sitting at the top of the wooden tower watching Slytherin and Gryffindor playing. They were going head-to-head to see who would be going up against your team for the Quidditch final. Typically, you would be hyper focused on the dazzling action going on before you; however, your mind was replaying a scene that happened quite some time ago with the one person who had yet to show up: Orion.

That scene was none other than when your very captain played with you in the most salacious way during your History of Magic class. Orion was never the one to act so brazen, but you couldn’t deny how turned on you were as you remembered his strong hands teasing the lace lining of your panties. Or how you had to do everything in your power to stop from yelling as you came from his hands in the back of the room. He had a quiet yet total control of your body and you wanted nothing more than to make him crave you as much as you craved him.

Of course, that was easier said than done. Orion was always so busy, being the responsible and determined captain you admired. He was either busy studying to keep his marks up or meeting up with Skye or Murphy to go over certain strategies for the upcoming games. You must admit that he had soothed your nerves in the most delicious of ways the last time you were nervous about a game. And you wanted to get back to that.

The harsh winter air was burning your cheeks, the wind was hitting you harder at the higher vantage point and all you could do was snuggle into yourself. Your yellow scarf and gloves were doing the best they could against the cold, but it wasn’t enough. You continuously shivered and huffed as your hands felt like they would chip off the bone.

“Did I miss anything?” Orion asked as he sat beside you. His hair was covered in a dusting of snow, making it look like tiny diamonds across the dark strands. Of course, he had a content smile across his unshaven face.

“Nope, nothing. They were just scrimmaging; the actual game should be starting soon.”

He beamed happily at you, taking a large fluffy blanket and draping it over the two of you. You released a happy sigh at the warmth that enveloped you, although it came out more like a gasp.

“You tend to make those sounds a lot when you’re around me,” he whispered in your ear in a low tone.

Your cheeks were already red from the cold, but the burning feeling was now traveling down your chest at Orion’s suggestive comment. He merely giggled and pulled you in close by the hip, making it so that your bodies were flushed side by side.

“If I remember correctly, it was your idea to do that in the back of the classroom, Captain, not mine.”

Your tone was snarky, despite how you knew you would fold the moment he opened his mouth again. It was a dangerous game the two of you were playing; the teasing, the sneaking around, all of it probably went against some moral code out there. It just didn’t matter enough for you to care.

“Please, don’t pretend like you didn’t enjoy it. From what I remember, you were the one who was doing everything in your power to make sure I never stopped playing with you,” his hands were now digging into your hip. Surely, they would leave some sort of bruise with the amount of rings he often wore.

“I did enjoy it,” you whispered back into his ear, “But I never got the chance to properly thank you for it.”

His dark brown eyes now met yours; they appeared to be swimming with more tones of onyx than gold, he was growing frustrated with your impending promise and what that meant for him.

“Well tell me the place and time, love. And I’ll make sure to clear my schedule,” he smirked.

The idea of him being excited to be handled by you was overwhelming. He wanted it as much as you did. He craved your hands on him as much as you craved making him come undone by your touch. You imagined how good he would look as you got him off. And in that second, you knew you weren’t going to wait to find out.

You dropped your hand on top of his knee underneath the giant blanket, making sure no one was looking at you two. Thankfully, Skye was arguing with some of the other teammates and Murphy was busy commentating. No one was paying attention to you two.

“How about today and right now?” You asked as you kissed and nipped at the skin beneath his ear. It was a bit of a riskier move for you to make, but so was fingering you in the middle of class with an awake yet dead teacher.

“You really want to do that here? In front of everyone?” His breath hitched as your hand drew higher up his thigh. It was muscular and wide from hours of balancing on his broom and you couldn’t stop yourself from digging your nails into the strong flesh. It seemed like Orion liked it too, with the way that he growled against your shoulder.

“Yes. I want to play with you, the way you played with me. In broad daylight. In front of everyone. In a way that forces you to do nothing but focus on my hand on your cock.”

The words trembled from your lips, both from the cold and the impatience you felt. It didn’t help when Orion walked around looking like a Greek god.

Your captain fully turned to you, boring his lustful eyes and pretty lashes in your direction, not taking his glare off you for a second.

“Then do it,” he complied with a smirk.

With his seal of approval, your hand trailed up even higher on his thigh, enjoying the way he tensed beneath your hand, “I’m gonna make you feel so good, Orion. Just make sure you focus on the game. I don’t want you to miss out on a second of it.”

He let out a resounding laugh at your comment, connecting it to the way he instructed you to focus on the lesson the time he touched you. This was truly your way of getting back at him. Or repaying him. It was both revenge and reward.

The rush of energy that flowed through you the moment your hand reached his cock through his pants was exhilarating. He was already growing harder under your words alone and as your hand palmed at him, you noticed his eyes closing at the feeling.

“I said pay attention,” you pinched at his thigh through his pants. It wasn’t super hard, but it was enough for him to lurch in his seat, groaning at the sting mixed with his arousal. “Keep your eyes closed. I don’t want to have to tell you again.”

Orion’s face was both surprise and astonishment, you were far more serious than desperate like he thought you would be. But once your hand met his bulge again, he maintained his focus on the field.

After a few solid strokes up and down his cock, you could tell he needed more. His hands were digging into your hip even harder than before, making you acutely aware of how greedy he was becoming.

“More,” was all he murmured. It was low and whiny; his teeth were biting into the plump lower lip you so wanted to have between your own teeth.

His plea was good enough for you. Your hand met his waistband, slowly unravelling the drawstring that held his brown pants high on his hips. The knot came undone rather easily, and soon enough your hand dipped below the thick fabric to meet his hard cock. He groaned the moment you touched him. He was heavy and warm in your hand, and you wondered if the icy touch of your skin was giving him more pain or pleasure.

You tried your hardest to look ahead at the game, same as Orion. It was easy to get lost in the blur of green and red before you, but the only game you were concerned about was making Orion feel the way he made you feel.

Quick flicks of your wrist proved to make him feel the best. As you worked quickly against him, you could see his eyes blown wide, one of his hands holding your hip while the other was clutching onto the wooden stands with white knuckles. Thank goodness he brought the large blanket, or else this would have never worked.

“Tell me, what’s the current score?” You whispered into his ear, knowing full well he just missed the Slytherin chaser making a goal.

“190 to 150,” he responded.

“Wrong.”

You retreated your hand out of his pants and allowed it to rest on your own lap instead.

“What?”

“The score is 200 to 150,” you answered plainly. His face was flushed from the cold and the heat of his own body, making him shiver as he lost the source for his warmth. “I told you to pay attention and you haven’t been, honey.”

He groaned in frustration, trying his hardest to focus on you, and the game, but not his aching and delayed release. It was pure and cruel torture, but you weren’t going to touch him until he complied.

“I’m sorry, please, just finish me off, doll. I swear I’ll pay perfect attention.”

You were afraid his whining was going to cause a few wondering eyes to gaze your way. So before he grew too loud with his request, you brought your hand back to his lap, and slowly circled the head of him with your thumb.

“Fine,” you kissed his jaw, “But if you miss one detail of this game, you’ll never get to see if my mouth is better than my hands. Understand?”

He nodded frantically, as he kept his focus in front of him. You didn’t even have to work that hard, just holding him in your grip again caused him to shift his hips so you could pump him as he rocked his hips. If anyone turned around, even the blanket wouldn’t have been a good enough disguise for your activity, but you honestly couldn’t care less. All you wanted was to get him to cum.

Orion’s heart was pounding in his ears, his eyes went fuzzy from trying to pay attention to the game instead of your expert hand around him. More often than not, he envisioned you touching him; he wondered if you would be slow and careful or wild and unsatiable. He had never took you for the teasing type. But the way you were working him beneath the blanket and in front of the whole school was something he never would of imagined. God were you good at it.

Soon enough, your need for his release grew stronger, making you flick at the tip of him quickly and tightly. He gasped beneath your touch and tried his hardest to hold in his moan. It was empowering to make your captain fall apart with just your hand on him, but quickly it became to much for him. Your continued flicks and rubs and squeezes left him panting, coming hard from your expert hold on him. His head dipped back while his chest heaved. Dear lord, if anyone was looking in your direction, they’d know exactly what was going on. But that wasn’t any of your concern.

He chuckled exhaustedly as you took your hand out of his pants. You made no effort to tie his waistband back up, all you wanted was to lick the bit of him that had fallen onto your fingers. Teasingly, you took a taste and although it wasn’t the sweetest, the look on his face as you licked at your hand was better than candy.

“Tell me, Captain,” you giggled, “What’s the score?”

Orion looked at you with tired eyes, shaking his head in astonishment as you continued to taste him from your fingertips.

“The score?”

You nodded you head with a wink as you settled further into the blanket, his hand gripped your hip yet again.

“The score is one to one, doll,” he growled.

#orion amari smut #hphm orion #wifey L #hphm smut #orion amari #submission

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actress4him · 4 years ago

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Whumptober 2020 - Day 21

We get to bring in two new characters to the mix today! I won’t say who yet, you’ll just have to read to find out. :)

Read on AO3

Read on FFN

Day 21 - Chronic Pain

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Warnings: nudity (non-sexual), foster home mention

It was a bad day. A really bad day.

He had plenty of bad days, those came nearly once a month. Those he could power through.

But this was one of those days that thankfully, didn’t show up too often. He hadn’t had one this bad in probably a year or more. Certainly not since coming to space, which he was more than grateful for.

Curling in tighter on himself, Keith stifled a whimper with his pillow. He was pretty sure his roommates were already long gone, but he still didn’t want to risk anyone hearing him make pathetic noises. He needed to get up. It was getting late in the day, and he was still in the bed, and he was pretty sure he had a mission at some point to report for. If he didn’t get up soon, somebody was going to come looking for him, and then not only would he be in trouble, but he’d have to explain why he was curled up like a kitten with the covers pulled over his head and tear tracks staining his face.

And he didn’t even know. All he knew was that it hurt, and it had been doing so for his entire life.

Okay. I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna get up.

Willing his right arm to move, he threw off the thin blanket. The air was cool, just like the other Blade members seemed to like it. Apparently Galra ran warmer than humans. He was generally cold at night, but didn’t want to be a bother by asking for another blanket.

Now he had to force himself out of the fetal position. He started with the left leg, stretching it out slowly, slowly. The ache grew the farther out it went, until he was turning his face over to keen into the pillow again.

The second leg he decided to do fast, just to get it over with. Throwing it out straight, he gasped involuntarily as pain shot through it. For a moment he just lay there, letting the aches settle until they were at a semi-tolerable level, then began the equally painful process of levering himself up.

By the time he was sitting up, he was close to tears again. Breathe, he reminded himself. Keep breathing.

All that was left was to stand up, walk to the shelf to get his suit, walk down the hall to the communal bathing room, get undressed, bathe, get dressed, walk back to his room to put his sleep clothes away, walk to the bridge, then go on a mission.

Yeah. Sure.

Never mind that each of those individual tasks felt like the equivalent of climbing Mt. Everest. He had no choice. He was a Blade, and Blades didn’t just let a little thing like pain stop them from doing their jobs. If he couldn’t do this, if he tried to get out of going out today, then they might decide he wasn’t worthy of being one of them. They would kick him off the base, and then where would he go?

Not back to the Castle. There was no more room for him there, not without kicking someone else more deserving out of their place. And even if he thought he could make it all the way back to Earth, there had never been anything for him there. Just an empty, lonely, rundown shack in the middle of the desert, and the only reason he had lasted so long out there the first time was the Blue Lion. She wasn’t there anymore.

Okay. Getting up.

Standing took three times as long as it should have. Walking felt like the floor was covered in spikes, and like someone was following him around stabbing him with knives all over his legs. His back wouldn’t quite straighten all the way, at least not without adding a few more knives to the mix, so his posture resembled that of a wrinkled old man. He managed to make it all the way down the hall without running into anyone, thankfully, since he was hunched over and moving at a snail’s pace, and also thankfully was late enough that he was alone in the bathing room.

Galra didn’t do showers. He had learned that upon first arriving at the base. Instead, they used large, square tubs that could fill with either water, dust, or some kind of blue goo, depending on the needs of the individual’s skin, scales, or fur. It had taken him a while to figure out all the different settings, and he had accidentally set off the dust and goo a couple of times in the beginning. Right now, he was hoping that some nice, hot water would be what his body needed to cope with the day to come.

It did feel good to start with. Certainly nicer than he had felt the whole day so far. Keith was able to stretch out his legs, arms, and back fully for the first time without excruciating pain...for a few minutes.

Then the cramps started creeping back in, seizing up his muscles, making him whine. Tucking his knees up under his chin, he let the tears come again. He was tired. And so tired of hurting. A normal day, a day where his bones throbbed but he could use exercise or just pure willpower to get past it and ignore it...that he was used to. He should have been used to these days, too. But they never failed to catch him by surprise and completely knock him off his feet, sapping all his energy and will to do anything but stay in bed. These days turned him into a pathetic excuse for a person, and that was to say nothing about being a soldier. He hated feeling so weak and useless.

The timed bath ran out, and the water began draining. Keith was left curled up in yet another ball, shivering, unable to summon the strength to climb out. The cold doubled the intensity of the pain. His jaw was beginning to add itself to the list of aches from clenching it so hard to keep his teeth from chattering, but he couldn’t even make himself reach over for his towel.

You’ve got to get up. Do you really want someone to find you like this?

As if reading his mind, the door swished open. “Keith?” a familiar, accented voice called. “Are you in here?”

Regris. He lifted a trembling arm finally, swallowing a grunt, trying to get himself covered before he was spotted, but had only made it to the top of the tub when his partner rounded the corner.

“There you are!” Regris stopped, taking in the empty tub, the shaking limbs, and the streaks of water down Keith’s cheeks that were probably very obviously not bath water, and frowned. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Keith gritted out through his teeth. “‘m fine.” He continued trying to reach the towel, but his arm didn’t want to unfurl quite enough to nab it.

“Ya don’t look so fine, mate.” Crossing to the side of the tub, he snatched up the towel himself and threw it over Keith’s shoulders. “Are ya sick?”

“N-no.” Now he had to get up, whether he thought he was capable or not, so he gripped the sides of the tub with sore fingers and began to push, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to ignore the screaming in every inch of his body. “Told you. ‘m fine.”

Regris shook his head with a sigh. “Course you are. That’s why ya can’t even stand up proper.” Leaning down, he grasped Keith’s arm in his clawed hand and hoisted him up. While he did need the help, the sudden movement sent a wave of pain through him and he wasn’t able to hold in his cry.

The young Galra jumped back like he had been shocked, swearing. “What is it, mate? You’re injured, aren’t ya? Why didn’t you go to the med bay?”

“‘m not...injured.” Shakily, he adjusted the towel so it was wrapped around his waist, then gave in and grabbed onto Regris’ shoulder so that he could painstakingly step out onto the cold floor. “Don’t need th’...med bay. Doctor’s never did anything for me before. ‘cept tell me it was...just growing pains.”

Regris’ brow furrowed as he watched Keith slowly collect his clothing. “Well, what is it then, if you’re not injured? Ya look like somebody stabbed ya in the gut.”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Feels...kinda like somebody put concrete in all my bones.” He paused, thought about that comparison, then added, “But it’s expanding concrete.”

“I’ve no idea what ‘concrete’ is, but if ya feel that bad then maybe you should be restin’ in your room.”

Keith shook his head. “Got a mission soon. Need to get ready.”

Regris groaned. “Don’t be bone-headed Keith, ya can’t go on a mission like this.”

Turning his back, Keith started shuffling back toward the door. “Pretty sure the...Blade of Marmora doesn’t give...sick days.”

“Pretty sure the Blade of Marmora doesn’t want someone who can barely walk on a stealth mission!” Regris called to him just before the door slid shut.

He was right. He needed to get his act together. If Kolivan saw him like this, he’d kick him off the mission for sure, and then it wouldn’t be long before he was kicked out of the Blade altogether. Especially if he found out that this was a semi-regular occurrence.

Making it back to his room, he sat down on his bed and attempted to put on his uniform. Ten dobashes later, he had managed to get it over his legs and up to his waist, and had then fallen over sideways on the bed to fold up and shake some more. That’s when a knock came on the door. He jolted, thinking to try to sit up, but the door opened before he could.

“Regris informed me that you were feeling ill. I believe that he may have understated the severity of your condition.”

Quiznak. Why did stupid Regris have to go and get Kolivan?

“N-no, no, ‘m fine, I told him I was fine.” He pushed himself up much faster than he thought would be possible, avoiding eye contact with the towering Galra while he tugged his uniform up further. “I’m not sick. Just...a little sore.”

“Keith.” The severity of the tone made him glance up for just a moment, but he couldn’t hold the steady yellow gaze. “We have worked together for quite some time now. I have seen you after the hardest of training sessions, when older, more experienced Blades have thrown you to the floor and against the walls repeatedly. I have seen you after missions when you were shot, cut with a sword, or caught in an explosion. These things would all cause you to be more than ‘a little sore’.” He paused as if for effect. “Yet I have never seen you like this, barely able to leave your own bed. Clearly you are suffering from more than simple sore muscles.”

Keith clenched his jaw again, his arms wrapped tightly around his bare stomach. He wasn’t going to get away with lying. Kolivan would see through any of it, and he couldn’t even think of a believable excuse to give him.

“It’s nothing,” he finally said quietly. “Just this...pain, that I get from time to time. It’s not usually this bad. I can usually work through it.” He lifted his head. “And I can today, too. I know this mission’s important. I’ll make it happen.”

“What kind of pain?” Kolivan asked, his voice almost as soft, uncharacteristically so.

Keith shrugged, though he immediately regretted it. “In my bones...my muscles...feels like...they’re being compressed. Like there’s not enough room in my skin for what’s inside of it.”

Kolivan nodded solemnly, not speaking for a moment. Inwardly, Keith was beating himself up for allowing his secret to be found out, waiting for his leader to break the news that he could no longer be a Blade.

Instead, he crossed the room and sank down gently onto the bed next to Keith. “This has been going on for a long time, has it not?”

Keith nodded slowly, still expecting the worst. “My whole life. Or at least, as long as I can remember.” Countless foster families, social workers, and doctors had dismissed his pain, telling him that he was being overdramatic and exaggerating the intensity. Eventually he had learned not to tell anyone.

Kolivan hummed in thought. “As a full-blood Galra, myself, I do not know much about this phenomenon. But I have heard that it is, indeed, very painful.”

It took a moment for the full meaning of his words to sink in, and then Keith was too surprised to do more than stutter, “W-wait, what?”

“Growing pains,” Kolivan stated matter-of-factly, and for a tick Keith thought he was being dismissed again and he wanted to melt. “Many half-blood Galra struggle with it. It is much like you described - likely your bones are more like that of a Galra than a human, and are attempting to grow at the rate that matches. However, the outside of your body is very much human, and is holding them back.”

Keith just stared at him as his brain processed this information. Finally, somebody believed him. That in and of itself was almost too good to be true. And not only did he believe him, but he had answers? He knew why Keith was hurting? He still had so many questions, though, and wasn’t sure whether he could believe this quite yet.

“If...if it’s a half-Galra thing, then why didn’t Regris know what it was?”

“It all depends on not only what the other species is, but also what traits from each species you acquire from your parents. Others may struggle with different types of mixed blood related problems, while some, like Regris, seem to have no conflicts between their two halves. What you are experiencing is quite rare, but not so rare that I have not encountered it before.”

Biting down on his lip, Keith considered this. “Okay, but...I’m eighteen years old. Shouldn’t I be done growing by now?”

He could have sworn that Kolivan almost smiled at that, and kind of almost looked like he wanted to reach out and ruffle Keith’s hair. “In human years, maybe. By Galran standards you are still quite young, and Galra also continue growing well into their young adult years.”

Keith sighed heavily, hunching over himself further. “So in other words, I’ve still got a long time left to deal with this.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Kolivan stood. “But if you will accompany me to the med bay, I believe we will be able to find something to help you, at least on these especially hard days.”

Keith grimaced. “Thanks, but pain medication doesn’t work for me. At least not for this.”

Kolivan leveled a knowing stare at him. “Keith, when was the last time that you tried pain medication for this?”

“Um…” He bit his lip, realizing the answer. “Before I found out I was Galra…?”

“As I thought.” Kolivan held out his hand. “Come. I will assist you to the med bay, and once you have taken your medication I want you to come back here and rest.”

“But the mission -”

“Will be handled by others.”

“Kolivan, I -”

“You are ill. We cannot afford to have anyone on a mission who is at less than their best.”

Keith stared down at the floor. “I know,” he whispered.

“There is no shame in taking care of your health. Everyone must do so from time to time.”

A spark of hope replaced his disappointment, and he looked back up. “You’re gonna let me stay?”

Kolivan’s brow furrowed. “Of course. You have yet to give me a reason not to.”

Relief washed over him. Someone believed him, he was getting help, and he wasn’t being kicked out. Maybe today wasn’t such a bad day after all.

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

A/N: And Kolivan managed to make Keith tell him that being cold made it worse, so he gave him a ton of blankets for his bed. The End.

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hobeymakar · 4 years ago

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Holiday | M. Barzal Imagine

Dedicated to my girl @softbarzal

Author’s notes: This is based off the song Holiday by Little Mix. This is the first fic I’ve written in a long time and the first that I’ve ever posted on here, so please be kind to me

Word Count: 2,373

Warnings: Explicit language and brief sexual content, as well as alcohol use

Boy, have I told ya? I swear you put the sun up in my sky. When it’s cold, you pull me closer. So hot, it’s like the middle of July (July)

Melinda sees Mat's silhouette appear at the airport in Rio and she could literally cry from how much she's missed seeing him in person. It has been two months since she last saw him and she had been dying to see him again.

"Babe!" he smiles, and that's all it takes for her to run full speed towards him.

He drops his suitcase and she jumps right into his arms, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. She feels the tears start to roll softly down her cheeks and she hates how emotional she gets after a long time without seeing him.

"Babe, don't cry," he murmurs into her neck, before peppering her face with kisses.

"I can't help it! I missed you!" she replies, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"Well I'm here now, baby," he smiles.

She realizes they're in the middle of a crowded airport and jumps back down.

"Welcome to Brazil," she smiles, lacing her fingers with his, as she leads him towards the exit.

"I have a feeling I'm gonna really like it here," he smiles.

They exit the airport and are immediately hit with the humid, tropical air of Rio. They make their way to the car and Mat puts his suitcase in the back while she turns on the car and gets the A/C pumping. He climbs into the passenger seat and she hands him the aux. He plugs his phone into the aux and 20 Something by SZA starts blaring through the speakers, to no surprise.

They sing along to the song while they hold hands over the center console. After 15 minutes, they arrive at her house. She parks her car and he takes his suitcase out of the trunk. They walk up to the front entrance and she unlocks the front door.

"I'm home," she calls out in Portuguese.

They walk into the living room and see a soap opera playing on the TV. They hear footsteps coming down the hall and Melinda's mother appears.

"Hello, you must be Mathew. I'm Gisele," her mother smiles, bringing him into a hug.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he smiles back.

"The pleasure's all mine. Melinda has told me so much about you," she smiles.

"I hope only good things," he replies hopefully.

"Yes, only good things. You and Melinda will be staying in the guest house in the back. I assumed you two would want your privacy. If you need anything, don't be afraid to ask. Consider this your new home for the time being," she explains.

"Thank you," he nods.

Wanna have a little taste, so let me lay you down (Lay you). Nothing better than your skin on mine (Skin on mine). And I been looking for the feeling, looking all my life. Boy you give it to me every time

Melinda leads him toward the guest house in the back, so he can put his suitcase down. They enter the guest house and go straight into the bedroom. He puts the suitcase down and sits down on the bed. She climbs into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and straddling his waist.

"Hi," she breathes out, her lips inches away from his.

Before he gets a chance to say anything, she's kissing him, with an intensity that he's never felt before from her. He kisses back, trying to match her intensity, while she lays him down.

She breaks the kiss to lift her shirt up and he gets with the program right away, lifting her shirt up over her shoulders and head. He tosses it to the ground, not caring where it lands. He takes a look at her blue lacy bra and smiles.

"You're wearing my favorite color on you," he muses, flipping her over gently.

Before being able to make a response, he starts trailing kisses down her neck and chest, while his hands make their way around her back to the clasp of her bra. Just as he's starting to unclasp her bra, the sound of knocking on the door, grabs their attention.

"Lunch is ready, you two," her mother calls out, causing Melinda to groan.

Mat reluctantly gets up and wills his dick to go down from being half-hard in his shorts. Melinda puts her shirt on and suppresses the thoughts of wanting to kill her mom.

"Do we really have to go eat lunch with your mom?" he groans, pissed off that he got cock-blocked by his girlfriend's mom.

"Unfortunately we do. If we're not in the kitchen in five minutes, she'll break the door down and drag us into the kitchen by our ears. That woman doesn't play when it comes to that," she explains, causing him to grimace for a second.

After making themselves look decent, they leave the house and head back into the main house.

Can we make it all night? We don’t stop all up on my body babe, ooh. Touch me like a summer night, you feel like a holiday, ooh-ooh. Up all night, we don’t stop feel up on my body, babe. We’re just dancing the night away. Boy, you feel like a holiday.

So, I’mma let go. No one else in the world could ever come close to you, baby (Uh-uh). Close to you, baby (Uh-uh). We’re taking it slow. Whenever, wherever, we’re lasting forever my baby (Uh-uh). And you’re turning me on (Uh, uh-uh)

Later on in the evening, they arrive at the beach and see the party is in full swing. They walk over to the beach tents and Melinda starts looking for her friend.

After a few minutes, she finds her.

"Melinda!" her friends squeals, bringing her into a hug.

"This is my boyfriend, Mathew. Mathew, this is my friend, Alessandra," she introduces them.

Mat extends his hand for her to shake, but she brings him into a hug instead.

"Melinda has told me so much about you!" she gushes.

"Alessandra, can you come here please?!?" a voice from afar shouts.

"I'll be right back," she sighs, running off towards the guy.

Mat and Melinda greet a few more people they know before grabbing some drinks and making their way towards the music and all the people dancing.

The song Check by Kojo Funds Ft. RAYE comes on and her hips start moving to the afrobeat song. One of his hands goes to her waist as she sways against him. The DJ keeps playing more island jams like Confidence by RAYE ft. Maleek Berry, Finders Keepers by Mabel Ft. Kojo Funds, and Come Closer by Wizkid ft. Drake.

After a while, their drinks are empty and they've grown sweaty from all the dancing.

"Let's go for a swim!" she suggests.

"Okay," he shrugs.

She leads him towards a secluded area of the beach, near a bunch of palm trees and bushes and she takes her cover-up dress off and tosses it on the sand.

"Last one in the water is a rotten egg!" she announces, before running into the water.

Mat chuckles before taking off his shirt and running towards the water. He eventually catches up to her and she's chest deep under the water, while he's only waist deep in the water, due to his height. She jumps onto him, wrapping her arms and legs around him.

"You know now would be a perfect time to finish what we started earlier," she suggests, the liquor making her bolder than usual.

"I am not getting arrested for having sex on the beach," he replies, even though his dick is very much onboard with the idea.

"It's dark, everyone is at the party, and no one comes to this part of the beach anyway," she assures him.

He remains skeptical, but she starts kissing him, trying to get him onboard with the idea.

It works because minutes later, her bikini and his swim trunks are in her hands as he thrusts inside her. Luckily, there aren't many waves in the water, allowing them to remain coordinated enough to fuck in the water. After a few minutes, they both come and take a minute or so to catch their breaths, before putting their clothes back on and making their way back to the shore.

Luckily at the party, there are beach towels and they grab some, drying their bodies off. They stay for a while, before deciding to head back home. They take an Uber back home and end up fucking some more, going at it well into the night.

Boy, have I told ya? You give it to me like no other guy. We got that heat, yeah, like the summer (Summer). And that’s why I’m so glad I made you mine

The next morning, she wakes up to feather-light kisses across her abdomen. She opens her eyes and sees Mat in between her legs.

"What are you doing?" she asks, still a little groggy from waking up.

"Trying to see if I can eat," he replies cheekily.

"Well, the food is in the kitchen," she teases.

"Well, what I wanna eat is right here," he replies, kissing her hip bone.

After 20 minutes, they're both laying side by side, out of breath.

"Fuck, we need to shower," he sighs.

"Save water and shower together?" she suggests.

"Of course," he smiles.

They shower together and manage to not fuck again in the shower. They get dressed and head into the main house for breakfast. Gisele and Mat start talking in French, which makes Melinda happy that they're getting along so well.

Right as they're finishing breakfast, they hear the front door to the house open and the sound of a male voice entering the house speaking rapid Portuguese.

Mat shoots Melinda a look and she informs him that it's her dad. Her father makes his way to the kitchen and greets Melinda and Gisele before stopping at Mat.

"Dad, this is Mathew, my boyfriend," she introduces them.

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Fernando. Melinda has told me about you," he smiles, shaking Mat's hand.

"How was your business trip, Dad?" Melinda asks, noticing how awkward the exchange between her dad and Mat was.

"It was good. I was able to see your brother while I was in Florida and he sent some gifts with me," he informs her.

His father hands them all their gifts and sits down to have some leftover breakfast.

"Do you kids have any plans today?" Gisele asks.

"We're renting a boat and going out on the water and we're doing some sight-seeing stuff too," she informs her mother.

"Sounds like fun," Gisele smiles back.

So, put your love on me, up on me. Oh, boy, I love it when you’re touching me, holding me. No way nobody put that thing on me, up on me, like you do. Feel like a holiday (Uh, uh-uh). You know that I want it babe (Uh, uh-uh)

After doing some sight-seeing and visiting nearby historical landmarks, they arrive at the dock and get on the boat. Luckily, Mat has his boating license, so they don't need to have a boating driver with them. They sail out to the ocean and pop open a bottle of champagne and take out food from their basket.

They talk about the upcoming season and the upcoming school year for Melinda at Columbia. They even talk about when they first met at the Brooklyn Mets game. She had been chosen for the half-court shot challenge and didn't make the shot. Mat thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and was determined to talk to her. He looked her up on Instagram and slid into her dms, not expecting a response. He never thought that one dm would lead them to where they are now over two years later. They started as friends and after a year of friendship, they got together.

After a while of reminiscing on great memories between them, they head back to the dock. They return the boat and Mat suggests they go for a walk on the beach, with Melinda not expecting anything from it.

They start walking down the beach and at one point Mat stops walking and takes something out of his pocket. She notices it's a white ring box and feels the air get sucked out of her lungs all at once.

"I know what you're thinking and it isn't what you think. This isn't an engagement ring, it's a promise. It's a promise that in the future, preferably after your graduate college, that I'm going to give you a real engagement ring and I'm going to marry you. I hope that's something you want because spending the rest of my life with you is all I want," he explains, while she remains speechless, covering her mouth with her hands.

Soft "oh my gods" fall out of her lips and tears start rolling softly down her cheeks as she's in shock over what's happening.

"So yes, is this what you want?" he asks nervously.

"Yes yes yes, a million times, yes!" she finally cries out.

He slides the ring on her finger and the tears of joy start flowing more freely.

"I'm so in love with you, baby," he smiles, kissing her.

"Me too, babe, me too," she replies, still not sure all of this is real, and not some type of fever dream.

That night, she posts a series of pictures of her and Mat on her Instagram with the caption "whenever, wherever, we're lasting forever my baby 🎶". Mat comments with "I love you forever and ever baby ❤". Mat's phone blows up with texts from teammates and friends asking if he proposed and Melinda's phone blows up with texts from the WAGs, friends, and family, asking if she's engaged now.

They decide to put their phones on Do Not Disturb for the night and spend the night in each other's arms, enjoying the rest of the time they have together before Mat heads back to New York for training camp.

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #new york islanders #hockey #nhl imagines #nhl players #mat barzal imagine #mathew barzal imagine #hockey imagine #nhl writing

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horansqueen · 6 years ago

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I wrote this quickly. It’s not a request, it’s based on a MLT i got a few weeks ago. i was trying to write 4 fics and it just wouldn’t work so for some reason I started typing that so here it is. i didnt proofread, i never do. it isnt very good. it’s just fluff. clearly not my best but wtv, its written so may as well post it. 1.3k.

I was late and when I entered the bar, my eyes quickly scanned the room. My boss had kept me longer than he was supposed to and i was tired and frustrated. I couldn't be happier for the weekend but I had to admit what I really wanted was to immerse myself in a very warm bubble bath with a glass of wine and soft music. Unfortunately, I made a promise, and I hated to disappoint.

I walked to the bar and sat on a stool, ordering a drink, and that's when I saw him sit right next to me. His curly brown hair fell on his forehead and a dimple dug itself in his left cheek as his lips curled into an intoxicated smile. He was pretty and my heart skipped a beat at his sight. I smiled despite myself but looked back in front of me as the bartender handed me my glass.

"Hey gorgeous."

My heart jumped in my chest and I chuckled, tilting my head and turning to him. He sent me a smirk, or what looked like it, but I could clearly see he was drunk. I only nodded slightly and for some reason, it made him move closer.

"I mean it, y'know." he whispered, moving his face closer to mine. "You're the beautifulest person in this place."

"Beautifulest?" I chuckled again, amused. "I'm pretty sure that’s not a word."

He groaned low and closed his eyes tight for a second before opening them again and diving his gaze in mine.

"Mm mayb' not." he slurred.

This time, I laughed, and I could swear it made his eyes sparkle. He sat up straight again and twisted his stool my way, pressing his knee gently against my thigh. I glanced down at his jeans rubbing against my bare leg and held my breath.

"I thought some international superstar who writes songs for a living would have a better vocabulary."

"Ah ha!" he let out a bit louder, shaking his finger, a smile still plastered on his face. "You recognized me, didn't you?"

I laughed again but didn't answer. His hand found mine on the counter and I licked my lips when his warm skin met mine. Fuck, he made butterflies hit the inside of my stomach and the closer he got, the harder my heart beat against my rib cage.

"I didn't want to use m’ fame to bring you back home but if yeh tell me it would work then I just will."

It felt like my fingers covered by his were burning but I acted like It didn't do anything to me and used my other hand to bring my glass to my lips, still staring at him.

"I don't know, I'm not really starstruck right now, to be quite honest with you."

His smile fell and it made me burst into laughter, bringing a few other customers' attention. He, however, kept his eyes on me the whole time. I knew he was drunk, but I enjoyed the way he was looking at me, like no one else in the world mattered or would ever matter.

"That's a s-shame, kitten."

The way he stuttered due to the amount of alcohol running in his veins was endearing and I moved closer, bending down slightly, His eyes immediately fell down and he smirked again as he stared barefacedly at my cleavage. I let him but cleared my throat. It took him a few seconds before looking up in my eyes and I raised my eyebrows, even more amused than before.

"My eyes are up here."

"Mm, I know, M'sorry." he smiled more. "Yeh just have such a nice r-"

I quickly pressed my palm on his lips and he looked surprised but still stopped talking.

"Don't ruin this, will you?"

He kept silent, his glossy eyes roaming on my face, and finally nodded slowly. I pulled my hand away and his eyes dropped to my lips. I wanted to kiss him too, there was nothing I wanted more at this exact moment.

"I want to kiss you, baby girl." he let out in a low tone, as if he could read my mind. "But y'know, I really can't. I'm engaged."

He quickly brought his hand up and shook his head, realizing his mistake. He finally brought the other one up to show me his gold ring. I stared at it a few seconds and looked up in his eyes, raising my eyebrows.

"Are you now..."

He nodded exaggeratedly and I rolled my eyes, bringing my hand up too and showing him my own ring.

"Me too."

He grabbed my hand and contemplated the ring on my finger for a few seconds before bringing my hand up, pressing his lips on the back of it.

"We can't do that to our future spouses, it'd be wrong."

"Totally."

We stared at each other and I felt my heart twist in my chest but it's really when his fingertips brushed against my skin that it fully melted.

"Oh kitten, the things I would do to you if we both weren't taken,"

I was surprised the whole sentence made sense and he didn't even trip on his words but I didn't have time to think more about it, I was completely paralyzed by the way he looked at me and by how close his mouth was from mine.

"Maybe you should do it anyway." I breathed, running my tongue on my bottom lip, feeling suddenly desperate for a kiss.

He moved closer and I could feel his warm breath against my skin.

"What would my girlfriend say if she found out?"

This time, my lips curled into a fond smile and I brought my hand up to his chest, gripping his shirt in a fist. He smelled good, and I knew he tasted even better.

"She'd say it's fine, don't worry."

It seemed to take forever until I felt his mouth brush on mine and the feeling of relief that invaded me when his lips parted mine to kiss me deeper was indescribable. At this moment, I didn't regret coming in this bar, I didn't even feel like I had a bad day. With one simple yet intense kiss, this day had turned into an amazing one. I felt his fingers brush against my chest and I smiled against his lips.

"Harry, you can't do that in public."

"M' sorry, princess." he apologized in a mix of a whisper and a whimper. "I've just been waiting for you here for hours and the boys and I sort of had a few drinks."

I chuckled against his mouth and pulled away slightly.

"Oh yea? I couldn't tell." I joked, making him raise his nose in a grimace.

"When you walked in I couldn't believe my eyes." he added, ignoring my comment. "You are the beautifulest person in the universe. I want to bring you home."

I laughed and brought my hands up to cup his cheeks and peck his lips gently.

"I think I'm the one who's gonna bring you home, you clearly can't drive." I shook my head with a smile. "Harry, you realize i'm your girlfriend, do you?"

"Of course!" He frowned again and moved back, shaking his head as I placed my hands on his thighs. "The beautifulest girl around is my girl."

His gaze dropped down again and he smirked, making me chuckle.

"Okay, let's go back home now." I just said, swallowing quickly what was left of my wine and getting up. "Do you need help to walk?"

"I can walk by myself." he replied, getting up too but slightly unsteady on his feet. "And we can go home but we surely won't sleep. M' about to take care of yeh, kitten."

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #harry styles blurb #blurb #blurbs #my fanfics

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sentofighta · 6 years ago

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Happy Birthday, Deuce and...I love you. || @oursongofhealing

It is the day. Machina made up his mind to finally come with terms with his feelings. It was not easy at all. For years, he thought he loved Rem. Perhaps because she was the only person in his village to survive with him. The only person he remembers after ‘Izana’ but now she is...truly the only one.

His feelings were mixed, he loved her, wanted to protect her, wanted to make her happy, all because she was always pushing herself even though she was sick. She covered it up with tiny lies but he saw through them but couldn’t confront her.

Then...Class Zero appeared and everything went crazy, his life, his feelings, everything. Despite how the higher-ups tried to portrait class zero for him, there was something that bugged him about it. Talking to the zero cadets, they felt detached from the world around them yet they cared in their own way.

He met Deuce and honestly he never thought that one day he could have feelings for another girl beside Rem. Their interactions were superficial, limited to their missions but little by little, fate kept betting on them. Each time they were in a team, he felt a strange feeling; he wanted to be there for her because she is always pushing herself...Ah...just like Rem.

Machina pushed the thought away, thinking his feelings were nothing but how a classmate looks after his fellow classmate. Perhaps with time, he saw her as a little sister because she kept trying to interact with him until a couple of faithful encounters that made him question if he really sees her as just a ‘classmate’, a target for his spying activities.

His heart was in pain, torn between who he knows he really loves and the new sudden warm feeling he gets whenever he sees the flutist. Even Rem at some point noticed something was wrong with him towards Deuce and she encouraged him on her own way which he did not think about it until later on.

He loves Rem. His fear to lose the only person who he has memories with hunts him. He loves Rem. Perhaps his obsession with being strong had blinded his ‘love’ and made him possessive of her. She never complained that is why he assumed it was the right thing. To love her and wish she was his only, no one had the right to ‘have’ her but him. How foolish...when he thinks about it, it makes him mad at himself for viewing Rem like that. How his simple wish to be strong to protect everyone turned to complete possession of everything?

His fear.

He is scared.

He does not want to forget or be forgotten.

‘She’ made him that way.

‘She’ made Rem that way.

‘She’ put him in an endless cycle of fear and doubt.

‘She’ could have let everything the way it was, everyone was friends but ‘She’ wanted her children to be puppets.

If only they could go back to one of the old spirals, where everything was okay...alas...another one soon starts after and wipes their memories clean.

New Game . . . ?

New Cycle.

Restart the pain.

Machina was done of feeling pathetic for himself. If it is the only thing he can control in his life, at least he should do it right. For himself, and for her.

Today is her birthday and in his mind, it was probably the only good chance he will ever have to confess his feelings. He has to do it!

Well, easier said than done when his body is refusing to leave his room. Gosh...his heart is about to jump out of his chest, thinking about meeting her and saying...he...he loves her.

Alright, steady breathes. He can do it. “GAaaaaaah!!!!” why did he remember her blue stripes pants now? Commence bashing his head to the nearest wall to calm down. “Nn...that’s....she will be upset of me...I have to tell her about that too...before or after ...Damn it...”

If he kept at this it will be noon and he will ruin every chance of seeing her first in the morning. Pushing himself to open the door, Machina exists his room and head to the girls' dorm. He might die in the process because Studen President Aki might catch him but he does not care (well, he is scared but he is trying his best not to think about this.)

Sneaking inside, his heart dropped when he saw Sice coming his way and quickly opt to hide. Thankfully, she did not see her but to his chagrin, Cinque was right behind him.

“eeeehhh~ machipyon? what are you doing here?”

“AAAAAAH! C-C-Cinque?! M-me? N-nothing. Ha..ha....walking.”

“Walking in the girls' dorm~~?”

“........Yes. I’m maintaining peace.”

“Heeeeeeeeee~ Machina is a nice guy~ Cinque wants to help too! Do you think someone is trying to steal the girls’ panties?”

“P-P-Pa!”

“Pa pa pa?”

“....Nn...I feel...sick...”

“Oh no~ should I go call Deuce? she can cast some healing magic on you ~”

“NOT DEUCE! NOT! DEUCE!”

“Uwah! Machina is acting strange.”

“I-I’m not!...uugghh! just go, okay? I have...I mean I will go too.”

“...Oka~~~y. if you say so. but cinque wanted to help in kicking bad people’s ass too.”

“thanks, i will call you when i erm fine bad people to be kicked.”

“ye~y!” she turned and walked then stopped, “y’know deuce has left her room already~ she said she was going to water the flowers in the cemetery~ byennee~”

“!!!” how did....he had a hunch that this cinque had more than she let out. So deuce is already out...he wanted to leave this message to get her somewhere where they can talk alone but that is okay too.

Machina quickly left before anyone else spot him or it will be really his death sentence. he made his way to the cemetery which he had to pass through the class and luckily no one was around because it was still early in the morning. he spotted eight who was as per usual training. sheesh...this kid is either training or training.

He walked into the cemetery, teal eyes flickering around, trying to scan where the flutist is when she got up after watering some plants. His heart skipped a beat seeing her smile at the flowers.

Damn it, he thought to himself, left hand pressed against his chest. He cannot have cold feet now. A deep breath before he walked towards her, “H-hey...” to get her attention and not startle her.

Deuce turned around quickly when she heard the voice and a smile beamed on her features which made him freeze in his place before he shook his head, “Um...you’re early...”

“Mhm. I have to water the poor flowers or no one will.”

“That’s..awful kind of you...”

“Is...it?”

“I-I mean um..you are sure busy and stuff and...make time for them...*sigh* I admire that...”

“Hehe, they can’t water themselves, can they?--- o-oh...” she clasped her hands.

“I admire a lot of things about you...You still talk to me even though I am...a spy.”

“Machina...”

“I have something to tell you, so please, listen to me.”

“Yes, I will. Go ahead, Machina.”

“...Okay...First, I have to apologize for something before I um forget.”

“...?”

“I’m sorry! I am REALLY SORRY!” he bowed, “that day when we were on Milites land and we were climbing for the other side of the building and--”he coughed because he was talking fast, “a-ahem, I...s..s..s-s..saw your...um...underwear....I couldn’t tell you because I was scared that you might think I meant for it to happen! I swear I did not!” he was legit scared to look up but he could tell she tensed up. Deuce’s face was definitely glowing red as she held onto her skirt, pulling it down unconsciously. Great...he ruined the moment.

“I-...It is okay. Machina did not mean to...l-look. Besides, it was my idea to go first so, I know you didn’t mean to...” she was so embarrassed, probably thinking what underwear was she was wearing at that time and she is shy to ask him which one he saw. Crystal...

“D-do you forgive me...?”

“Mhm...It’s in the past.”

“...ha...ha...”

“M-Machina...?’

“...that’s a relief...” he fixed his posture, a smile curled his lips.

“U-um, is that...all?”

“...No.” he closed his eyes, took another deep breath and looked right into her eyes. Deuce felt it was even important so she took this even serious and looked him back right into his eyes. “You know that...I love Rem....”

It was evident that she momentarily flinched but kept her cool, “...yes.”

“I...thought I do. I mean, she was the only person left in my life who knows me. I clung so hard onto her because I was scared of losing her. Of losing the last person who I share memories with. When Izana died, it felt..weird and ..there is something missing in my heart. He was my brother but even now I cannot feel that ...sad to not have him. I feel angry because I cannot recall what he was to me, how we acted around each other, did he loved me? did I love him? were we good family? I...recall nothing. Rem was the only thing I can clearly remember any part of the day and it kept me going.” he paused to sigh and look up. “If it weren’t for that love, I wouldn’t be here...strange...I wouldn’t have met you...” a sad smile formed on his lips. “My love for Rem was...i don’t know if it is but it felt like...obsession more than love. I based everything in my life on her. I..I for sure made it hard for her but she never complained. She was and still a good friend. I wish if she said something about my behavior sooner...Maybe she...loves me...maybe she just petty me...but I can’t go on like this. She has the right to live her life the way she wants. I..I want to protect her but..I want to protect you more.” eyes look back at her. “*sigh* This is..going nowhere....Deuce, I love you.” he let that sink first before he continues. “I love Rem but now I see I was projecting my insecurities on her and treated her unfairly. You came in and opened my eyes. You are the reason i have the courage to stand against my fears, to stand against everything that has shackled me for years.”

Deuce was paralyzed and said nothing. Of course, she was. A confession after that long rant was a curveball.

Machina stepped closer towards her, “Deuce...will you...have me?”

#oursongofhealing #⌈⌈ic. (machina)#//aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa #long post #//wheezing sounds..i ....love them...so much....#//YOU GONNA BE MAH GURLFRI ENDO #//HAVE M Y EHART SHAY AND THORW IT IN THE GARBAGE AAAAAAAAAAA #//IM C R YING #//HE WAS JUST....YOU KNOW I LOVE REM BUT I LOVE YOU MORE YOU GET IT????? I ...LOVE YOU OMG I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

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seriouslyhooked · 7 years ago

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The Words We Keep (Part 3/3)

A three part CS AU based loosely on the music video for ‘The Words’ by Christina Perri. I know this has been done before by so many talented writers in this fandom, but I had so many readers ask for it so… here we are. Rated M. Part 1, Part 2. Also available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! So as promised here is the last fluffy (and smutty) little piece of ‘The Words We Keep.’ As you all must have expected, it is nothing if not over the top sweet, but hey, that’s the only way I know how to write for this couple. Thank you to all of you for the comments, reviews, and amazing support. It has meant the world and I am just happy that you guys have embraced this little AU. Hope you guys enjoy and definitely let me know what you think!

What a difference one year can make, Killian thought to himself the following spring as the train sounded down the tracks, rolling in at the same exact time that it always had.

Yet while some routines remained, life was entirely different now than it had been then. For one thing the solitude was gone, the loneliness all but forgotten, and the light Killian had been missing was now never far from his reach. He and Emma had started something all because he’d let those pent up words of wanting slip out of his mouth a year ago. The exact request of a date with just the two of them could be seen as asking for very little, but that spoken wish had led to so much more. One date had turned to many, one kiss to countless others, and after two years of build up the romance came easy. The comfort was there and that feeling of never being so alive and so adventurous while also feeling safe enough to share his burdens with Emma too was the best thing he’d ever known. His Swan had saved him in so many ways, and now here they were, watching the twilight and the train go by from the porch swing Killian had put here just for the two of them.

“Sometimes I swear I’m going to wake up and realize this was all a dream,” Emma murmured from her place beside him, tucked up in his embrace as she watched the train pass as the lingering light of the now gone sun slipped away.

“It’s hard to imagine such a life after the one’s we led, my love. But we were always meant to be. We were always meant to find our way here.”

Emma smiled at that, her hand absentmindedly coming to cover the bump of her newly showing belly. Sometime late this summer they’d be welcoming their first child, and Killian couldn’t imagine a greater gift, save for his chance to love Emma as he deserved. Calling her his wife, knowing that they were forever tied together and that they’d share their story side by side, made every day the best day it could be. There was no more wondering. There was no more doubt about where he stood or what he wanted. There was only certainty that he was the luckiest of men and that he would always cherish the opportunity to belong to this gorgeous, precious woman at his side.

Six months ago, in a fall wedding that was like something from a fairy tale, the two of them had tied the knot in a ceremony out here on their land, surrounded by a picturesque autumnal landscape and all their well-wishers and best friends. Perhaps it might have seemed crazy to some, to marry so quickly after starting to truly give this a go, but Killian had known from the first moment that this was what he wanted. Emma swore she felt the same way and so it seemed silly to wait when all was considered. Why put off what they could have now for a distant future? Why sacrifice the present because people might think they lacked patience or sense? The two of them were confident in the love they had, and that had been more than enough.

Despite the time that had lapsed since then, Killian could remember every detail of their wedding and he held those images close to his heart always. At any given moment Emma was the loveliest woman he’d ever known, but on that morning she’d been something else entirely. Dressed in white lace and donning a genuine smile that spoke to how truly happy she was, as the rays of golden sun glistened in her hair, she’d nearly stopped his heart. It felt like all of the light in the world was reserved for his Swan and that everything else faded away in that moment. There was no reception of people, no minister, nothing except for Emma and him, taking a step towards forever at last. It was almost impossible to behold such perfection, but somehow he’d done it, taking her hand in his and promising her the whole world should she wish for it.

“Emma, I wish there was a way to truly tell you all that I feel, to express to you what your love has brought my life and how you’ve changed me and made me the man I always wanted to be. And though I’ve never been the best with words, I’ll try and give it a shot: Since the day that we met, you have illuminated something long missing from my very soul. You cut through the noise and the silence alike. You mended a heart that was sure its best of days were behind it, and you’ve taught me with every passing hour that there is nothing that can harm me – nothing that can touch this perfect feeling – as long as I have you. Together we’re building a life and living a dream – our dream – and I can’t say how ready and how happy I am to be starting this with you here and now. You are my always and my forever, Emma, and I will love you until the end of time.”

Teary-eyed as she’d been after his vows, Killian knew that his woman was nothing if not up for any challenge. He had no doubt at all that she would hear his professed words of devotion and match them with ones of her own, but Emma had delivered something more melodic, more beautiful, and more magical than even he could conceive. Her words had been effortless and brilliant all in one, and for all his days and even after he was gone they’d be tattooed on his very being.

“Killian – in all the imaginings I had about my life and my future, I never allowed myself to really believe that it would be like this. I was afraid to let love in, to risk my heart. But the scariest part was letting go, and after I did that – after I trusted in you and in us – the rest was easy. You’ve proven to me that what we have is real and good. It’s beautiful and precious, and it’s enough to chase away every ghost from both our pasts and fend off any troubles that may come our way. In all honesty, the only word I have for what your love makes me feel is magic. And I know magic is supposed to be something reserved for children and for storybooks, but with you I’m not so sure that’s true. Because you make me see everything differently. You make me believe in the impossible. You make me brave enough to hope when hope was something I never could risk before. I’ll never be able to tell you how thankful I am for that, and for you. All I can say is that I love you, and I can’t wait to love you my whole life and forever after.”

“I can’t wait to share all of this with the baby,” Emma said dreamily, her words cutting into Killian’s memory as her eyes cast out over the farm and fixed on the gardens they’d worked so hard on making for this spring.

Once a rather barren place, this land was now truly starting to come to life with a mix of random wildflowers and carefully selected blossoms alike. Beyond it were the fields and the trees that had always been here, and off in the distance those waves upon the nearby coast still washed ever so softly. It was an enchanted place, and somehow Emma coming had not only brought Killian back to life, but it had brought his home and his land just as much. This place was perfect, and Killian was just as eager to share it with their little one and all the others that might come thereafter, but before he could say that, Emma beat him to the punch with another thought.

“She’s going to love it, I just know it.”

The comment might seem to a stranger like it was nothing but sweet sentiment, but Killian felt the ache in his chest at all that Emma had just given away. They hadn’t found out yet what they were having, but when Emma turned to look at him with her smile and happy tears in her eyes Killian knew that she had discovered the truth and he was overjoyed. A little girl, an angel who would no doubt be just like her mother, was joining their little family soon, and Killian felt choked up from the raw emotion of finding it out like this.

“She? We’re having girl?” He asked, and Emma nodded as her hand came to cup his cheek and her thumb brushed ever so slightly across the place where bare flesh met the scruff of his beard.

“Mhmm. Ruby’s Grandma had another dream…” Emma said with a surprisingly straight face, causing Killian’s brow to instinctively rise. Emma was seriously giving this kind of power to the admittedly often-correct guesses of her best friend’s Gran? But then Emma giggled and shook her head. “And the doctor called today too.”

Killian didn’t know whether to scold Emma for the teasing or laugh at it, but neither needed to happen since their lips met in that moment and the sweetness of this blissful moment in time and the shared joy of their good fortune soon melted to something hotter and more fueled by need. They were used to this at this point, aware that the chemistry and the fire between them was nowhere near disappearing, and instead of torturing either of them with something long and drawn out, Killian decided to take what he wanted. In seconds he was on his feet with his wife swept up in his arms as he headed into the house, and as he carried her in, hearing the light hearted laughter that sang out between them and entering the home they’d built together, Killian knew that life was really and truly good and that with Emma in his arms it always would be.

…………….

Swept off her feet was an apt description of Emma’s relationship with her loving husband, and as he brought her into the house to no doubt deliver on the taste of foreplay between them out their on the porch swing, Emma couldn’t help but think back to how this giddy feeling of rightness had been there from the start.

About a year ago Emma and Killian had gone on their first date, and after a first kiss that should have been reserved for one of those classic romantic movies, Emma hadn’t known what to expect. It was all so up in the air and it felt like a big, huge, gigantic deal that things were finally happening, but Emma knew even then that whatever Killian had planned she would love. Yet even she couldn’t have imagined all the stops he would pull for her, and that dinner under the stars at the Public Gardens private greenhouse had been unreal. Maybe it was a good guess on his part, given her obvious love of flowers and greenery, but everything was purposeful and full of thought from the white twinkle lights that were strung up in the canopies above to the gourmet grilled cheese and onion rings that were on their special menu. Emma had no idea how he could know her favorite foods or her favorite place, but it was clear from that point on that Killian did know her almost better than she knew herself.

With such a connection between them love came oh so swiftly. She’d been halfway there before they’d so much as gone on a single date, but in the weeks and months that followed Emma couldn’t stop the blissful fall. There hadn’t been anything like fear in it either, and though she’d had to learn to grow in some ways, Emma never doubted that all their choices were right for what they wanted and for the life they were trying to build together. They were moving quickly, what with moving in together and getting married in close succession, and now they had a baby on the way too, but to Emma it was perfect. She couldn’t even think of slowing down when she’d waited so long for this man and for this chance. Instead she embraced every opportunity and she allowed herself the best of all worlds.

Despite the argument that she couldn’t have her cake and eat it too, Emma knew that she could own a business, be a wife, and soon be a mother with the right kind of framework set up and with Killian’s love and support. As a first step to securing that Emma made Ruby a partner, helping to ease off some of her commitments so she could cut down her physical days in the shop to three a week when their little girl came this summer. Someday she might go back to more, but right now everything was about balance and prioritizing the things that mattered most. For Emma that was family, and that family was only possible because of this man who carried her with such tenderness and care.

“You’re not going to be able to do this much longer,” Emma murmured as her fingertips ran across the top of his flannel shirt that was slightly unbuttoned, teasing out the course hair underneath. “Soon I’ll be as big as a house, or so everyone tells me.”

“You know I love a challenge, Swan,” Killian joked as they made it to the top of the stairs and into their bedroom. “But not to worry. I’d never put you or our little lass at risk. I’ll find other ways to ravish you properly.”

Emma swallowed harshly at that as Killian lay her down atop their bed. That word – ravish – was one she’d heard before from Killian and he wasn’t being hyperbolic. Every time they came together like this he fulfilled Emma in ways that were indescribable. Her blood thrummed with heat at the thought of it and her pulse ticked up as she wet her lips in anticipation. Her husband watched all of this closely, his eyes locked on her as he moved to strip the shirt he’d been wearing off. The sultry action had Emma’s head spinning, and all she could wonder was how he’d love her tonight and if she’d be able to take it or if she’d finally die and go to heaven.

“The answer to your question is simple, Swan. I’ll give you everything and more, just as I always do.”

Emma didn’t even know if she’d asked the question allowed, but Killian certainly answered her internal musings with authority. As he did so he also teased her bit by bit, easing down the zipper at the side of this dress that had at most a few weeks left of wearability. Then he slipped it off of her, stripping down the leggings beneath but taking his time with the lace she wore underneath. His eyes were molten at the sight of her and Emma would have grinned triumphantly if she were capable of it. As it was, she was too wrapped up in the feel of his hands moving against her, his body coming over her as she lay back against the bed, his presence hot and hard and domineering.

“Every damn time you do this to me, Emma,” Killian growled out, his fingertips tracing the red edges of her barely there bra before he came to unclasp the front of it with deft fingers and the precision of a man used to seductively undressing his wife. “All prim and proper on the outside, and then a vixen underneath.”

“You aren’t complaining are you?” Emma asked, meaning to sound more confident, but finding her voice was airy and filled with a quivered sense of desire as he trailed kisses from her lips down her jaw and to her neck.

“Never, my love. You might drive me to an early grave one of these days, but God, it’ll be worth it to have you like this and know you’re all mine.”

“And you’re mine,” Emma said as her hands roamed over him, her mind thinking of what she could do to flip the tables and have him as aroused as quickly as he had made her, but then his mouth was on her breasts and she was sidetracked, blinded by the pleasure of his attentions.

Killian knew just what to do, how to lick, suck, nip, and Emma was totally beholden to this moment. She felt the need coil low in her gut like a spring, winding tighter and tighter and tighter and he’d barely taken this anywhere. His fingers were only just edging up her thigh, and by the time he grazed ever so lightly across the soaked material of her panties Emma was gasping out. She could try and pretend it was baby hormones, but that would be a lie. This was all Killian, and her body had no choice but to succumb to his plans that always ended in the most delicious release.

First with his fingers he took her right to the brink, knowing exactly how to play it so her lust crept higher and higher, but when she was nearly there he stopped, pulling away and bringing his fingers up to lick. The sinful gesture left Emma even more needy. Seeing her husband like this, almost like an animal when to everyone else he was nothing but a gentleman, was overwhelming enough, but then he was kissing down her body, leaving marks from the scratch of his beard and the edge of his kisses. That roughness was perfectly balanced, however, with only the tenderest of attentions to where their baby was currently growing.

“I love you, Emma,” Killian said as he hovered above her bump. “And I love this little one with everything in me too. How I’ll ever thank you for giving me all of this… God, I’ll never have a way.”

Emma debated telling him the truth, which was that there was no thanks needed. How could she expect thanks when Killian had just as much power over her happiness and her feelings of contentment as she did for him? But while caving to the sweetness was tempting, it would be oh so much more delicious if she took this another way. Emma could poke at that primitive need in Killian to satisfy her and claim her as his, and since she knew that their usual sparks flamed so much hotter when she did, it was an easily made choice.

“I wouldn’t say that…” Emma counseled as she tried to speak with seductive tone that held more control than she felt. “You could actually follow through instead of teasing me.”

That was it. The gauntlet was thrown and no sooner had Killian growled out that she didn’t know what she was asking for, than his mouth was right where she wanted him, landing hot and eager on the slick flesh of her sex. Thoughts flew from Emma’s mind and there was only sensation. It wasn’t teasing either but demanding and oh so freaking good! She couldn’t stop the climax that had been building up from crashing over her, but it wasn’t enough to appease her husband. Saddled with a challenge he was set on satisfying every need and only when she’d come again and was right at the edge of more did he relent, crawling back up her body and meeting her eyes as he filled her with one long hard thrust.

“Killian!” Emma moaned as her hands gripped at him for purchase. She couldn’t even get the rest of her thoughts out. Did she want more? Harder? Faster? She hardly knew. All Emma was certain of was that she needed her husband, trusted him more than anything, and that she was so close to breaking apart again as he kept up his perfectly timed tempo, designed to get them both exactly where they needed to be.

“Let go, Emma. You know I won’t stop until you’ve given me what I want, and I want you. All of you.”

Emma did know that, and the edge of command along with the raw need in his voice was all it took for her to obey that wish. She cried out his name again, pulling him down to kiss and feeling like she was floating as she eventually came back to herself. Sex should never be that good. It just wasn’t fair to everyone else who didn’t get to enjoy something so divine, but hell if Emma cared. She was just so freaking happy and she knew as she looked over to Killian, who was lying on his side, perched up to look at her with a gaze of pure adoration and love, that he felt just the same. This was their happily ever after, and after so many years apart, and so many trials that they’d both had to face alone, they were more than worthy of it.

“You know what would be amazing right now?” Emma asked some time later after the two of them had cuddled together and she’d traced a hundred tiny maps that all lead to his heart across his skin. But Killian didn’t need any actual hints to know what she was thinking. Instead he kissed her lightly before grinning and getting up from the bed, giving her a full view of that body of his that always drove her crazy even if he’d just ravished her completely.

“Aye, love. Cleaning up the mess we’ve made just to do it all over again.”

And with that new plan in place, and the promise of a romantic soak with her loving husband followed by a night wrapped up in his embrace, Emma allowed herself to feel all the bliss and magic that love could bring. For that was her new fate and her enduring destiny: she and Killian would always have this love no matter where life would take them, and Emma for one could hardly wait.

Post-Note: So there we have it. I think I officially ticked off all of the requests with this, including those of you who wanted pregnant Emma and some gratuitous smut. Needless to say I have had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope to write some more similarly short but oh so sweet stories in the future. Thank you all for joining me, and if you happen to be a new reader check out my other stories! They’re basically all this level of over the top cuteness, I swear. Anyway thanks again and hope you all have a lovely rest of your weekend!

#captain swan #captain swan fic #cs fic #cs ff #cs fluff #cs au #cs mc #emma swan #killian jones #captain swan fluff #captain swan ff #the words au #the words we keep #the words we keep 3 #completed cs fic #prompted fic #captain swan mixtape #cs mixtape

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thoseofgreatambition · 7 years ago

Text

guardian to be

genre: supernatural, fantasy, thriller

pairings: none

wordcount: 3.5K

warnings: swearing, mentions of violence and spirits, vomit

a/n: remember that short story i’ve been talking about all semester, this is it! it’s based off of an idea for a novel i had a few years ago, and I”m so proud of the finished product! i’ve tagged my permanent tag babes, so i hope y’all like it! if you’d like to be added to the permanent tag, please let me know!

November 11, 2017

“Aren’t you supposed to be good at this?” Lee scowled at the woman opposite from him, as she frantically formed a line of salt around the room. “Didn’t I hire you so I didn’t end up holed up in some murder cabin being chased by demons?”

Ada’s hands shook so hard she couldn’t keep the salt into a line. Her hands felt numb, and for the first time in two centuries she was remembering what true fear felt like. Sure, she couldn’t die, but that didn’t mean those spirits wouldn’t kill her companion. “They’re not demons, they’re spirits. They’re hurting and confused, that’s why they came after us.”

She shot a look over her shoulder to see Lee standing in the middle of the room looking more and more agitated as things went on. His lower lip wobbled as his brow furrowed, and Ada watched as his eyes began to shine. Her maternal side took over, as it was prone to do.

“I’m sorry, Lee.”

Just like that, the floodgates opened. The 19 year old broke into sobs, his fists clenched so hard it hurt as he desperately tried to wipe away each tear as it came. His shoulders shook as he fought the urge to wail. Lee had always prided himself as being put together and mature, after all, being raised by a single mother would do that, but this was too much, even for him.

He wasn’t even done with his first year of college yet. Life wasn’t supposed to be like this. He should have been worrying about what his grade in Algebra II was, not whether or not some demons or spirits or whatever the hell you wanted to call them were going to kill him.

This wasn’t fair! This wasn’t even his fault.

It was his father’s fault, and why should he be blamed for what a serial killer did before he was even born?

One Month Prior: October 11, 2017

Lee stood in front of a rather shabby looking house, with a skeptical look on his face. He’d confided to a friend that he’d felt like he’d been followed lately, and that he could have sworn he’d seen things crawling outside of his windows at night. That friend had spoken to one of their friends, who had spoken to a friend of a friend’s friend who eventually got back to Lee with an address and a name of someone who could protect him.

The college freshman had scrawled it on the back of a dining hall receipt and now he wondered if this was all some sort of prank. The name Adelaide Lewis didn’t exactly seem like it would strike fear into anyone’s heart.

Regardless, he’d spent 40 minutes trying to find the damn place, and his morbid sense of curiosity wouldn’t let him leave without at least finding out what this was all about.

The pastel blue door flew open after the second knock, revealing a woman who hardly looked older than he did. A glance inside showed what seemed to be one of the ugliest home interiors Lee had ever seen. The furniture was a mix of stuffy Victorian china cabinets, beaded curtains from the 60’s, and what appeared to be shag carpeting with several Disney movie posters framed on the walls.

The girl seemed unassuming at best. She wasn’t the type of person that stood out when you passed them. Her features were kind but plain, with wide brown eyes and dark hair in braided pigtails. For a moment Lee wondered if she was either insane for decorating a house like this, or was living with whoever he was supposed to see. “I’m here to see an Adelaide Lewis?”

“Oh please, call me Ada. Come on in. Are you Lee?”

Reluctantly he shed his coat, and hung it on a rather antique looking coat rack. “I am, yes.”

Lee considered himself to be good at reading people, and while he got no strange vibes from Ada, it was hard to feel comfortable. His shoes sunk into the shag carpeting, and while the floor looked clean, he was reluctant to take them off. Still, Lee did as his mother taught him to do and removed the trainers, only feeling mildly abashed by his Legend of Zelda socks. “Is this your parent’s home?” The false note of Texas politeness seemed far too obvious and inwardly he cringed.

Either Ada was too polite to comment or she didn’t notice. Either way, she shook her head. “No, it’s mine. I’ve lived here for about… ah, sixty years? Seventy maybe…” she looked back at him and laugh, “It’s so easy to lose track of time after a while, isn’t it? Would you like something to drink? I’ve got coffee, tea, water, sweet tea… I went to H.E.B the other day, I have some of that powdered lemonade stuff that everyone seems so fond of. “

It was almost as if Lee’s brain had stopped working for a moment. “Se-seventy years? You’ve lived here for seventy years?”

“Yes.”

“You’re my age.”

Ada laughed once more, a melodic sound that filled up the room they were in. “Oh, is that why you’re confused? I should have explained. I’m not a human. Well, I used to be one, but I’m not anymore. I died you see, a long time ago in the 1800’s. I’m really 200 years old. I turned into a guardian angel, and now I work for hire protecting humans from immediate danger.”

Again, Lee froze. He only jerked into motion when a theretofore unknown cuckoo clock made itself known to him by shooting out a wooden bird next to his left ear. “Shit!” at her disapproving cluck of her tongue, he looked abashed. “Sorry. I just—A guardian angel?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you weren’t… I thought those weren’t real.”

Ada shrugged, “Everyone does. But you got recommended me by a friend right? Do you trust them?”

“More of an acquaintance really.” Or an acquaintance of an acquaintance… of an acquaintance. Lee was silent for a moment, wondering about her question. He didn’t really know, though he supposed he trusted his friend who put him in contact with the one who recommended Ada to him. “I suppose so, though.”

“So what’s the harm? I’ll take whatever you can pay me.”

“You don’t even know what my problem is.”

“You’re a kid. You came to some sketchy house and listened to some ‘crazy lady’ tell her story just because something was really bothering you.” She gestured to his shoes that had holes near the plastic soles and the weathered hem of his jeans. “You obviously don’t have a lot of money to blow on this sort of thing, I’m not going to rob you of the next semester’s rent check. So what would you like to drink, and what’s the problem?”

There was a long period of silence as Lee’s brain worked in overdrive, trying to understand what in the world was going on. His tan hand fiddled with his sleeve cuff, and his brown eyebrows knit themselves together as he thought. It was like he’d stepped into some sort of strange, fantasy or sci-fi novel. Sure—he enjoyed reading those things, but to actually be in a situation like that was quite unnerving.

Suddenly he found himself wondering if he was having some sort of fever dream or had gone insane without noticing. Especially when what she was saying sounded good enough that he was willing to go along with it.

“I’d like some sweet tea, please.” Lee situated himself in an overstuffed armchair, and looked at Ada with a worried expression, wondering how to explain about his problem. “Something is following me. Or some things. There are these creatures following me around. I keep seeing the shadows out of the corner of my eyes.I hear people talking to me when I’m all alone—There were people outside of my window last night, and I live on the fifth floor!” his voice cracked as his anxiety rose and Lee massaged his throat. “I don’t know what to do.”

Ada handed him a glass of sweet tea and sat down across from him, taking a sip of her own glass. “Tell me about you.”

He was silent, wondering what that had to do with anything. Eventually though due to Ada’s silent probing he finally got around to speaking. “I’m a sophomore in college. I’m nineteen, I’ll be twenty in June… I’m studying English History.” His voice trailed off, “Honestly I’m not sure what you want from me.”

She pointed a long finger towards a window covered with a lacy curtain, and spoke very calmly, “Is that one of the things following you?”

Lee spun around and saw a dark silhouette outside of the window. It looked like a human, a woman, perhaps? He could almost make out her face, and her pained expression. For a short moment Lee felt sorry for her until she let out an ungodly wail of anger and began to beat on the window.

He jerked up from his seat, not sure what to do in his panic, and accidentally knocked over his glass of sweet tea onto the red shag carpeting. Ada was quicker to spring into action, she opened a small chest of drawers next to her chair, pulled out a white bladed knife and very calmly walked over to the window. The rest happened so quickly that Lee didn’t know what to say happened. Ada yanked open the window, grabbed the attacker by what seemed to be ethereal strands of hair and shoved the dagger into her back. Immediately the wailing stopped and the being, whatever it was seemed to disintegrate into nothing.

Ada looked towards him and Lee noted that there was no blood on the knife. She quirked her head and took in the sight of him, “You’ve got spirits following you. And it appears that something in you has made them rather angry.”

October 18, 2017

Lee was retching in the corner, and Ada sighed just a bit as she watched him. The poor thing. This was not how someone should find out about this sort of family history. It did explain a lot about why those spirits were following him though.

They were standing in a rather dark corner of the Texas Lutheran University library, with quite a few old newspaper articles pulled up onto the computer. Ada stared at the screen, and felt a chill roll down her spine at the image before her.

A man who looked just like Lee, stood in a courtroom in an orange jumpsuit. The caption ‘Serial killer sentenced to death’ was in italics underneath and described a rather horrible series of crimes. A confirmed victim count of ten, with quite a few more suspected from the man. A woman sat in the front row behind him, visibly pregnant and crying. As Ada read the article she let out a sigh. This did explain a lot.

As he dry heaved into a waste basket, Lee desperately tried to catch his breath. This couldn’t be happening. This was not what his mother told him. She said that his father was an old boyfriend who moved away to Germany after college. Lee hadn’t tried to pester her for more information. Why should he? He was happy with his life as it was. His mother had given him more love than he bet two parents could have given him.

“That article’s wrong!”

“Lee, it identifies your mother by name.” she scrolled through to another article, titled “Arthur ‘Artie’ Scott executed via electric chair”. “The date of his execution was almost exactly 19 years ago, Lee. It’s why they’re going after you. They’re upset and they didn’t get any closure.”

“But why are they going after me now!?” Lee’s voice roared out throughout the quiet space, and bounced around the walls. “I didn’t do anything!”

That was a fair question, but it only took a little while to find the answer. “Your father was 19 when he was executed, Lee.”

“Don’t call him my father!”

Ada ignored his outburst and continued, “They think you’re him. You’re his age, you look alike…” with a long sigh she stared at the angry young man in front of her. His world had been turned completely upside down—thankfully all of her time spent on earth had given her enough patience to handle a bit of misplaced anger. “Now we know where to start though. This won’t be too bad, I think.”

“Oh you don’t think it’ll be ‘that bad’? We just found out my—“ he sputtered, as he tried and failed to make the word ‘dad’ leave his mouth. “He’s a serial killer. How is that ‘not bad’ Ada? In what world does that mean ‘not bad’!?”

“We just have to wait for a little while longer, let some more time pass so they realize you aren’t him. We’ll find someplace safe, and hide out.”

When Lee seemed to falter, as if she was saying something that couldn’t be achieved, Ada frowned, “What is it?”

“I can’t leave.”

“Why?”

“Midterms.”

November 11, 2017

Now here they were.

Trapped, with no way out.

“I can’t believe I let you take me here!” Lee’s voice cracked with rage. Perhaps this was misplaced anger, but dammit, if he was about to die then he didn’t think it should matter. “This was supposed to be a safe place! We should have stayed near everyone else!”

“That wouldn’t have worked, Lee. We’d have put everyone else in danger and they’d have found us even sooner.” She looked at him with a frown, and watched as he shook and trembled while trying to hold back his emotions. “Lee I’m sorry. I need you to stay calm.”

“I thought you could protect me! What the hell kind of guardian angel can’t protect someone?”

Ada flinched as Lee’s words hit fairly close to home, “Lee.”

“No really! A guardian angel for hire? What in the hell was I thinking? You’re just some crazy chick aren’t you?”

“No!” Ada raised her voice for the first time that Lee knew her, breaking the calm and motherly demeanor he’d come to know. “I was a guardian angel! I was!”

The silence that fell between them was heavy, as Lee processed her words. “Was?” when she blanched and set down the salt, Lee continued to stare at her, “You were a guardian angel? Past tense? As in, you’re not a guardian angel anymore?”

“I lost my wings.”

He shook his head a bit in confusion, “What does that mean?”

“You become a guardian angel by dying protecting someone else. I died protecting my son and became his… but when he passed away naturally, a long time later I was assigned to new people.” She hesitated, and only continued to speak when Lee looked at her imploringly. “I wasn’t good with them. I did what I did with my son and encouraged them to follow their dreams and what they wanted to do, but—“

“But what?”

“That didn’t work out well. They kept making bad choices. They got hurt. They wound up dying. Eventually I got in trouble and was sent down like this, on probation. I’ve got to save one hundred people to become a guardian angel again. You’re my hundredth.”

It took a little while, but Lee felt his surprise turn to anger once more, as he shouted at Ada, “Why didn’t you tell me that?!”

“I knew it would scare you off. I can handle this though! I’ve handled trackings like this before—it’s textbook!”

“You screwed up so bad that you got fired as a guardian angel! You really think you’re good enough to keep me safe?” Lee gestured to the cabin walls, where they could hear the echoes of the damned outside. “This is your fault! This is your fault! I’m going to die because of you!”

Ada flinched just a bit, wondering how exactly to recover from this. There was only one real way to recover from this. “You’re not going to die.”

It was impossible to kill an angel, even one on probation, but not for those who were also ethereal beings.

“Oh really, I’m not going to die? How are you going to save me Ada? You going to do the same sort of job that you did with all your other clients?”

She took a deep breath, he was young and angry. Rightfully so. It wasn’t right to lash out back at him. “I’m going to distract them while you grab the car and get out of here. Take my knife, and my bag it’s got lots of things in there to protect you. Holy water, loads of salt to ward off spirits. Go and hide somewhere safe, and wait it out for as long as you can. They’re already decreasing in numbers as they realize you aren’t your dad. I give it another week.”

She grabbed a shotgun off of the wall and loaded several odd looking bullets in them. For a moment, Lee was distracted enough to forget his anger. “How are you going to distract them?” Lee had never been a hunter, nor had he ever really seen a gun up close, but those didn’t appear to be normal bullets. “What are you putting in there?”

The real answer was blessed silver buckshot, something that would cover a large range and inflict lots of damage. However, it wouldn’t kill them. At least not all of them. “They’re special bullets that can kill the spirits.”

“You’ve got enough in there for them?”

She did not, but one of the few things Ada had learned on this earth during her short time as a mother was that at times, it was best to lie for the comfort of others.

“Of course. Hide out, I’ll come and find you, and if I can’t find you in a week then go back to normal. It’ll be over by then alright?”

Something felt wrong to Lee. He couldn’t put his finger on it but something about all of this felt off. It was enough to completely wash away his anger. “You’ll be alright then? You’ll come and find me?” Even if he’d been angry at Ada, it was hard to go through a month of this with someone and not become their friend. “You won’t get hurt?”

Without hesitation, Ada smiled and lied to his face. “Of course I’ll be alright. Don’t worry.”

There wasn’t enough buckshot, and she was sending him off with everything else in her arsenal.

It was impossible to explain to Lee why she’d failed so many times, an impossible thing to explain to anyone who hadn’t been a mother. But Ada had followed everyone before she’d gone on probation from birth to death, and they’d all become her children in her eyes. Perhaps this made her a bad mother, but as the world around them quickly changed she’d had trouble keeping up with what was safe for them and what was dangerous.

All she’d ever done was try to guide them to make the right decisions, and she’d seemed to fail at that.

Things had gone better since she’d gone on probation, but right now Lee was a scared kid, someone who needed comfort and to be protected. Just like her son had been two centuries ago.

“Now go on Lee to the garage and get in the car. Open the door, the salt line that’s down will still keep them out until you drive over it. When you hear me shoot, drive out and get as far away as you can, okay? Just keep driving.”

“Ada…”

“Go, now.” Her voice sounded a great deal like Lee’s mother when she’d decided on something and Lee no longer had a choice in the matter. He stared at her for a moment before nodding and walking to the garage.

Ada waited until she heard the car start up and the garage door open. She felt cold. Her hands were trembling. However, she’d died before, and while this time there was no promise of an afterlife, Ada allowed an overwhelming sense of peace to wash over her. She had failed plenty of times in her many years. This time though, she would succeed.

With that thought in mind, Ada swung open the door to the cabin, kicked a hole in the line of salt and fired a shot straight into the chest of one of the spirits in front of her.

Before the mob descended she could see Lee drive off into the distance.

Yes, she’d done her job this time.

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hrina · 7 years ago

Text

Popsicles And Kiwis

PAIRING: Harry/Y/N RATING: R WORD COUNT: 4800+ REQUESTED: yes !

so this came from a small request about eating a popsicle and accidentally starting something that couldn’t be finished.......i went a bit overboard with it, but i hope u enjoy some smut! please let me know what u think :-) it rLY motivates me ! [feedback] [masterlist]

~*~

It’s hot.

The unbearable heat that’s swept over the country still hasn’t ceased. It had been hot when you’d woken up (Harry had yelped when you’d practically pushed him off the bed, moaning about how he just wanted to love on you and being met with your rebuttal of how his body was like a furnace and today that kind of temperature just wasn’t welcome). It had been hot when you’d arrived at Anne’s, and whilst you’d been eating lunch. You couldn’t stand it.

Thankfully, Anne had insisted on giving you a popsicle; she couldn’t have her son’s fiancée fainting in the middle of her kitchen, now could she? You had expressed your gratitude with a kiss to her cheek, and now you’re happily sucking on a raspberry-flavored treat on the couch. Harry’s documentary is playing on the television–Anne had said that she wanted to watch it with him (you’ve already seen it about four times, but really, that’s something that nobody needs to know).

“You little felon!” Anne laughs as the Harry on the screen pulls off his shirt, his pants quickly following. Your fiancé covers his face with his hands, leaning forward and groaning in embarrassment.

“I didn’t know they were gonna put that in!” he protests. He presses his forehead to your bare shins, which have been slung over his lap carelessly. You smile, watching Harry and his mum interact–every so often she lets out small, teasing quips, and she even tears up a few times, her pride getting the best of her.

“Dont cry, Mum,” Harry warns, “If you cry, I’m gonna cry.”

“I’m sorry,” Anne chuckles. She reaches for the remote to pause the documentary before standing and dusting off her pants. “I’ll be right back–I need some tissues.”

“Take your time,” you say, and she shoots you a grateful smile.

Once she’s out of the lounge, you turn back to Harry, subconsciously swirling your tongue around the popsicle in your mouth. “She loves you so much,” you say, the thought slipping out.

You wait for a response, but when it doesn’t come, you lift your eyes. Harry’s staring at you intensely, gaze focused on where you’re sucking the sweet treat into your mouth, lips molding around the shape and cheeks hollowing almost pornographically. You raise your eyebrows at him.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?” he blinks, snapping out of his obvious stupor. You smirk at him, hearing his mother ruffling around in the kitchen. A moment later, you extend your arm, offering the popsicle to him.

“Want a lick?”

“No,” his voice is hoarse as he watches you. He licks his lips, his jugular bobbing almost painfully in his throat. “No, I’m—you can have it. Finish it, please.”

Your brows knit together in confusion—what’s gotten into him? It’s only when you sit back, your legs shifting on his lap, that you feel it. Oh.

Oh.

“Are you…?” you trail off, the popsicle slipping from your mouth. The pursing of his lips is an unconscious answer, and you scowl. “Harry!”

“’M sorry!” he whispers fiercely, throwing up his hands. “Can’t control it!”

“Your mum is here!” you hiss at him, reaching over to slap his arm. He groans, but if anything, the sound is more sensual than pained. You frown—your ice cream hasn’t found its way back past your lips, not now since you’re aware of the effect that it has on him. You hear Anne make a triumphant sound from the kitchen and you assume that she’s finally found some tissues. Her footsteps become louder as she nears the lounge, and you turn back to Harry with an even expression.

“I’m finishing this,” you tell him, quietly but firmly. “It’s hot, and it’s not my fault that everything is hypersexual to you.”

“It’s not!” he protests, but you shush him.

“Try to make it go down before we have to leave,” you say, and then you pop the cold treat back into your mouth, giving it a particularly forceful suck just to spite him. Harry lets out an agonized groan just as his mum sashays back into the room.

“What’s wrong, love?” she asks, having heard the sound.

Harry shoots you a panicked look before clearing his throat and glancing back up at his mother. “Stomach ache,” he grits out. “Think it might be the heat. Mind if I duck out to use the loo?”

“Of course,” Anne nods. Harry springs up quickly as his mother sits down, taking full advantage of the time that it takes for her to get settled on the sofa. He’s out of the room before she even looks back up (which is convenient, obviously—the last thing either of you need is for her to see her son’s raging erection), and you’re forced to cram your popsicle into your mouth to hold in your laugh.

~*~

That fucking treat.

Harry swears under his breath as he rapidly unbuckles his jeans, forcing the constricting material only down to the middle of his thighs. He doesn’t have much time before his mum comes knocking and wondering if his abrupt stomach ache was a result of something he’d eaten. He pulls his cock out of his boxers, hissing as his thumb brushes the tip. There’s already a dollop of precum beading at the head, and he grits his teeth, wrapping a loose fist around himself.

“C’mon,” he mutters, starting at a quick, rough pace—usually he’d tease himself, but he’s painfully aware of the time constraint. He knows it won’t take long for him to get there, but he’s paranoid, and right now, his release seems impossibly distant.

“C’mon, be good for me.” Imagining you with him always does him in—he takes full advantage of that. For one fleeting second, he’s pounding into you; the next, you’re on your knees, waiting with parted lips and wide, expectant eyes. He swears yet again, frustrated that he’s unable to focus on a single memory without being overwhelmed by nearly all the sexual endeavours that you two have experienced.

He puts his left hand on the bathroom counter next to the toilet, trying to steady himself. The position is brief, however, seeing as a prominent, incredibly bright image pops into his mind. It’s something the two of you had only done once, after he’d returned from Jamaica. You’d jumped him the moment he’d stepped into your flat, peppering his face and neck with kisses and begging him to make up for lost time.

His left hand leaves the counter and joins his right. He presses his palms to the base of his cock, slowly sliding upwards towards his tip and hissing through his teeth. Though he’s unable to replicate the sensation perfectly, it’s enough. He can see you beneath him, eyes clouded over with both lust and love, hands pushing your breasts together as his dick slides between them fluidly. His thumb runs over his tip, and he imagines that he’s just bumped your chin in his eagerness, causing you to let out a small chuckle.

“Such pretty tits,” his whispers. He can practically hear your whimper—you love the praise, and the sound has been ingrained in his mind thanks to months upon months of being together.

His hands are picking up speed, and—almost subconsciously—he reaches down to squeeze his balls lightly. He can hear the documentary still playing a few rooms away, mixed with laughter—your laughter—and fuck, he knows he’s there.

“Good girl, such a good girl, pet,” he mumbles furiously. He balls his left hand into a fist, shoving his knuckles in his mouth to muffle the groan that escapes him as he finally explodes. Thick, opaque streams of cum shoot into the toilet, a few haphazard ropes dribbling down his hand. Harry closes his eyes, his lips forming around a silent prayer of gratitude.

He pulls on the roll of toilet paper, ripping off a piece to wipe his hand. He then tosses it into the trash can a few feet away; after a moment, he grabs some more, balling that up as well and meticulously covering the cum-covered tissue. He’s at his mum’s place, after all.

He flushes the toilet and turns on the faucet, looking up at his reflection in the mirror as he washes his hands. His cheeks are slightly flushes, eyes frenzied yet fucked-out. He runs his tongue over his lips lightly before turning the tap and shutting the flow of water. Your voice floats through the air, and over the ringing in his ears, he hears something about “checking up on him”.

He opens the door after the first knock. You’re standing there, your fist raised and your eyes wide in surprise. Harry takes advantage of your posture, his hand wrapping around your wrist and tugging you into the washroom.

“Wha—?” you yelp, but then his lips are on yours, subsequently cutting off your exclamation.

The kiss is bruising, and you can’t help but to melt into him as he grips your face in his hands. The tension leaves your shoulders, and your knees suddenly feel wobbly, like they’ll give out on you any second. Harry doesn’t fight the smile that curves along his lips; after a long moment, you place a delicate hand onto his chest, pulling back and inhaling deeply.

“Hi,” you murmur. Your fingertips come up to tap gently on your lips; you do that every time one of Harry’s kisses catches you by surprise. It’s almost like you’re trying to savour the flavour of his mouth.

He finds it unbearably adorable.

“Hi,” he smiles at you, his grin lopsided. He’s feeling the effects of his post-orgasmic haze: his insides are warm, eyes droopy, muscles loose and flexible. He always becomes insanely cuddly and affectionate after his release, and his mannerisms spark a flicker of recognition on your face.

“Did you…?” your lips part in surprise. His response is simply another pert kiss delivered to your nose, and you gasp, pushing away from him.

“Harry!”

“I’m sorry,” he says, but his words are painfully slow, and you can tell that he doesn’t really mean it. “Was nothing else I could do.”

“You could have—,” you break off abruptly, searching for another plausible option, but he’s right. Nothing—at least, nothing inconspicuous—could have been done to control his little problem. You abandon the rest of your sentence, letting out a long sigh and pinching the bridge of you nose in exasperation.

“I can’t believe I’m marrying you,” you say. Harry grins dopily at you, his eyes shining with love, and you just shake your head. His expression is enough to make you smile, though, and you close your eyes as you nuzzle your nose against his cheek. “I love you, you idiot.”

“That’s my girl,” he says, turning his head and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Love you more.”

~*~

Payback is a fucking bitch.

Your chest is puffed out, filled with a held breath that you can’t force yourself to release. Your lips are pursed, and your eyes are boring into your fiancé’s skull, silently urging him to quit it. Harry remains completely unaware, though, biting into the soft half of a kiwi and humming in delight. The sound is pure torture, and you have no other choice but to look away.

Usually, he does things like that on purpose. A tiny gesture to get you riled up—whether it be the pass of his hand on your lower back, or a small kiss to the crook between your shoulder and your neck—usually followed by a teasing smirk that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. But this…this is downright painful, and it’s all because he’s so oblivious to the effect it has on you.

Why are you making it so much more sexual than it should be? He’s just eating a piece of fruit, for God’s sake. But then he dips his tongue into the crevice created by his teeth, his eyes closing in satisfaction, and you swallow convulsively. That’s why.

When he lets out a moan of pleasure, you snap.

“Can you stop that?” you demand.

Harry freezes, his eyes popping open and his brows knitting together in confusion. He pulls the kiwi away from his lips, and you want to sob. His mouth is shining with juice, a few haphazard droplets running down his chin. On cue, his tongue darts out to lick his lips, and he wipes the excess fluid away with the back of his hand.

“Sorry?” he asks—it’s not an apology, it’s him wondering if he’s heard you right.

“Can you—,” you grit your teeth, looking back down at the pasta that you’re cooking on the stove, “—just…fuck me.’

You mutter the last part under your breath, the words acting as an exasperated exclamation. Harry, however, pushes back from the kitchen table and rises from his chair. “Can I just ‘fuck you’?” he asks, his eyebrows still furrowed in bewilderment.

“No!” you say, before realizing that you want him to fuck you. “Yes,” you backtrack, before gritting your teeth; this really isn’t going well. “I mean—just stop eating that fucking fruit!”

He’s still confused—you can see it written all over his face—but your disgruntled behaviour makes him laugh. He circles around the counter, wrapping his arms around your midsection and pressing his forehead against the exposed nape of your neck. When he exhales, his hot breath tickles your skin, and you tighten your grip around the wooden spoon in your hand.

“Why’re you so cranky today, hmm?” Harry asks. He peppers a handful of kisses to your shoulder over the large t-shirt draping down your figure; you let out a shaky breath.

“’M not,” you mumble, glaring down at the pasta in the pot. You need to prepare lunch; there’s no time to act upon your needs.

“You are,” Harry muses. You sigh, setting down the spoon. It lands with a muffled noise onto the counter, and you reach forward, turning the knob on the stove and shutting it. The pasta can wait.

“Fine.” You spin around in Harry’s grasp. He steps back slightly, evidently not having expected the movement. Your gestures are dramatic and exaggerated, but you can’t find any other way to express your frustration. “I’m cranky because I’ve had to watch you basically eat out that kiwi for the past ten minutes. And it’s...it’s making me hot, okay?”

His brows were furrowed before, but now, with your confession ringing in his ears, they creep up his forehead until they’re almost disappearing into his hairline. Harry smirks, pinching his bottom lip in between his thumb and forefinger; his eyes are trained on you, smug and tempting and God, you just want to kiss the annoyingly handsome expression from his face.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you mumble, casting your gaze downward. You play with the silver band that circles around your ring finger, tapping the large diamond idly.

Harry snorts quietly, and you jut your bottom lip out into a pout. “C’mon now,” he says, stepping forward and running his thumb over your mouth, smoothing out your hurt features. “Don’t be like that. If you want something, you need only ask. Thought you knew tha’.”

“I do,” you breathe, tilting your head up so that your gaze locks with his. Your hands creep up his chest, fingers gripping the material of his crewneck. You wait, looking up at him expectantly—he usually makes the first move, and it’s something that you’ve come to love about him.

“Do you need to excuse yourself to the loo?”

You gasp, swatting half-heartedly at his shoulder, but a knowing smile curls at the corner of your lips anyways. Harry laughs loudly, baring his perfect teeth and the dimple that you constantly poke, despite his grumbling (you know he loves it though—he’d told you once while he was drunk).

“Last time I checked, we were the only ones here,” you murmur. You stare fixedly at the skin of his neck, running your fingers along where you know his veins bulge when he’s singing. You tap his jugular lightly, and he swallows in response. His hands find your face, and before you can make a sound, his mouth is on yours.

“’M sorry for teasing you, pet,” he grits out the words through hot, heavy kisses, “Lemme—fuck—lemme make it up to you.”

You whimper in affirmation, and he spins you to the side, pressing you against the counter a bit harder than was intended. A small, pained sound echoes in your throat, and Harry grimaces, kissing you softly and stroking your cheeks in apology.

“Sorry,” he says, “So sorry, love, I—”

“It’s okay!” you gasp, your voice bordering on frantic. He’s lit a fire in the pit of your stomach, and with each pass of his hands over your body, with each kiss from his lips, you can feel the flames crawling upwards, licking higher and higher until your chest is hot and tight with need. You pull at the collar of his blue crewneck. “Off, get this off, please.”

“Easy, easy,” Harry tells you. “Gonna take care of you, I promise.”

He stoops down slightly, placing his hands on the backs of your thighs and lifting demandingly. You help him, wrapping one leg around his waist before hopping up so that he has a firm grip on you. He exits your kitchen and carries you into the adjoining lounge, placing one knee on the couch before toppling over.

You squeal when you land on the cushions with a muffled noise, Harry groaning as his body plops down on top of you. A brief laugh leaves your lips before he’s stifling the sound with his mouth against yours. The chuckle that he makes melts into a moan when you run your tongue along his bottom lip, and he opens easily—eagerly—for you.

Before you know it, he’s got his right hand in your pants, wedged between the fabric of your shorts and your underwear. The elastic band of your bottoms presses against his wrist as he twists, finding your clit with ease and rubbing you through the cotton material of your panties. When you twitch underneath him, he lets out a satisfied sigh. “Oh, there it is.”

“Shut up,” you choke out, throwing your head back when he moves your underwear to the side so that he can brush his fingertips against you fully. Harry swears, frustrated with the awkward angle and the shorts that are still seated on your hips. With a final kiss to your lips, he pushes up so that he’s kneeling and moves down your body. His large fingers hook into the waistband of your bottoms and he pulls them down in one swift motion, knocking a gasp from your lungs.

“That’s it,” he mumbles, his eyes trained on the apex of your thighs, where a small wet spot is staining your panties. Your fists ball up tightly when he leans down, planting a long kiss to your left hip before running only the tip of his tongue along the skin right above the elastic of your knickers. A squeak leaves your lips when he presses his nose against where he knows your clit is practically throbbing with arousal underneath the fabric.

“So…warm.” It’s almost like he’s in a trance, his eyes closed and his lips puckered in thought as he nuzzles his cheek against your inner thigh. “Always so warm and ready for me, angel. Love your cunt.”

“Harry,” you say meekly, his name a plea for more and a reminder that you’re here, you’re with him, and you’re waiting for something. Harry finally opens his eyes, dark irises trained on you. His lips are pinker than usual and slightly swollen due to your fierce kisses, and his cheeks are flushed—he looks freshly-fucked, even though you haven’t even done anything yet.

“Sorry,” he apologizes softly. He litters kisses along the sensitive skin on the inside of your thighs, and you can sense him slipping away again, getting lost in his own head. “So, so sorry, love. Lemme fix it.”

He pulls at the cotton covering your pelvis, eyes fixated on the skin that is revealed to him as he inches your panties down your legs. His nostrils flare when he smells how turned on you are—he’s been reduced to only the most primal of instincts, and your scent is driving him positively wild.

“Making me mad, love,” Harry says gruffly. He yanks your underwear down the rest of the way, and you thrash momentarily to fling them off. Harry’s on his stomach between your thighs, and you spread your legs a bit wider to grant him enough room. You lift your right leg so that your knee is nearly hooked over the back of the couch, and Harry burrows in deeper so that he can angle your left thigh over his shoulder. His large hands find your hips, holding you down as he leans in and inhales deeply.

“Fuck. Love how wet you get, angel. All for me, yeah?”

“Yes.” You hate how your voice shakes.

Harry hums in approval before pressing a quick, teasing kiss to your clit. You gasp at the brief stimulation, your hips bucking up involuntarily—he’s quick to pin them back down. The slight show of dominance makes something in your stomach curl deliciously, only adding to the flames that have spiralled out of control.

“Really wanna hear you, alright? You gonna be good for me, pet?”

“Yes, I will, I will, just—,” you huff, your impatience getting the best of you, “—please, Harry I’m so…it hurts, it—”

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Harry shushes you, laying his cheek against your thigh, “’M sorry. Haven’t been very nice to you, have I?”

You stay silent, unsure of what to say. Thankfully, Harry continues, which only assures you that he hadn’t wanted an answer to begin with. “I’m gonna make it better, love. Gonna make you feel so much better.”

With that, he—quite literally—dives in.

You gasp when he wraps his lips around your clit, his tongue flicking the sensitive nub in rapid strokes. He’s merciless with his technique, pulling out all the tricks that he knows will have you positively quivering underneath him. Your hands fly down, fingers braiding into the soft tufts of curls atop his head, and you let out a shaky breath when you feel him give a firm suck to your clit.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your eyes fluttering shut. Harry hums against you, and the vibrations make you whimper quietly. For the next minute or so, the only sounds that can be heard are those of him greedily eating your cunt and you rewarding him with heavy pants and groans.

When his tongue begins to circle your entrance, you let out a particularly loud moan, opening your eyes and peering down at him. His hair is tousled from your fingers, and you only tighten your grip when he sighs against you. His nose is resting on your clit, and his eyes are closed in bliss, eyebrows high up on his forehead. It’s the same expression he wears when he’s fast asleep, vulnerable and exposed.

Except the bottom half of his face can’t be seen. His mouth is hidden from view, but you can feel the contrast—he’s licking and sucking and kissing with a franticness and an urgency that you’ve never quite seen before. You vaguely remember him telling you once that he enjoyed eating you, that you tasted tart and ripe and inviting—but you’d never truly believed it until now, when the evidence of his satisfaction is driving you closer and closer to your orgasm.

“Harry—,” you warn, toes curling in pleasure, “Harry, I feel—oh God!”

He smirks against you. Your hips buck up, but he’s quick to pin them down, hands gripping you tightly and thumbs rubbing soothing circles along your skin. You pant, your chest heaving beneath the material of your t-shirt.

“Gonna cum for me?” Harry asks, his words slightly muffled against your clit. “Gonna help me out, love?”

“Yes, please,” you cry, “I w-wanna cum.”

“Do it for me, darling, c’mon…”

His words are utterly sinful, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge. His hand pinches your left hip comfortingly before sliding up under your t-shirt, fingers dancing over your ribs until he finds your breast. “Fucking love these,” he tells you, pressing a pert kiss to your jumping clit. “Perfect, they are.”

“Oh!” you call out when he reattaches his lips to your clit, and God, he’s really determined to get you to cum. Your fingers are positively yanking at his hair, eliciting a deep, throaty groan from his lips. His own digits are playing with your nipple, tweaking it and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger and only adding to the powerful coil that’s tightening in your stomach.

“Wanna taste you, love,” Harry admits against you, his tongue stroking your outer lips with a gentle pressure. “If you cum for me, I’ll fuck you after—fuckin’ ruin you if you want me to.”

While he speaks, he keeps your clit stimulated with his thumb, rubbing harsh, unforgiving circles into the small bud. Your hips careen upwards and this time, he doesn’t bother pinning them down. A yelp gets caught in your throat, and you let out a pained, imploring sob. “Harry, I’m gonna—!”

“Yeah,” he whispers, more to himself than to you. “Yeah, give it to me…there we go, you’re there, you’ve got it…”

His cheeks practically hollow when he delivers one last powerful suck to your clit, and you cry out, body wracking with tremors and fingers locking in his hair. Harry kneads your breast gently, his thumb flicking against your nipple as you ride out your orgasm. Your thighs quiver around his head and haphazard whimpers fall from your lips, piercing the air as he watches in silent awe.

He doesn’t know how long it lasts, too caught up in watching the way your lips pull back over your teeth and how your brow forms that small crinkle that he loves so much. Eventually, your dry sobs die down, and you’re left spent and breathless, sprawled across the sofa. Your grip in his hair loosens and your hands fall to your sides, completely limp. In fact, your entire body has gone lax; the sight makes Harry smile with a smug kind of satisfaction.

“Oh, you did it, love,” he whispers, kissing your hip encouragingly. “You did it, I’m so proud…”

“Harry,” you mewl, “Harry, I need…need you, please—”

You lift your arms slightly before whining and letting them drop back down, lacking enough energy to properly convey your desire. Harry, however, understands perfectly. His lips part in surprise before he’s scrambling up and splaying himself out on top of you. He clings to you tightly, gently turning you over so that you’re both laying on your sides. You whimper, fingers flexing as you try to make grabby hands at him, and he hugs you, his lips pressed firmly against your forehead.

“Just need me close?” he mumbles, and you sigh quietly, rewarding him with a faint nod of your head.

You grip the material of his sweater in your fist, realizing something. “You never…never took this off.”

Harry chuckles, inhaling the sweet smell of your shampoo. “Do you want me to?”

“No,” you murmur, “S’okay. You’re…warm.”

He chuckles again, shifting slightly; you hiss when the fabric of his shorts brushes against your still-sensitive core. “Sorry, sorry,” he sputters, gritting his teeth at his mistake, “Christ, you came hard, didn’t you?”

“Mhm,” is all you say. You press your forehead against his collarbone, fingers dancing up and down his covered chest. Harry’s still as you explore his body, but he wheezes in pain when your thigh accidentally nudges the full, plump erection that is still trapped beneath his shorts. Your mouth pops open in surprise—you’d completely forgotten.

“Shit,” you whisper, “I’m so sorry. Do you want me to—?”

“No,” he cuts you off firmly, “No, I…you’re tired, love.”

“But I can—my hand?”

“No,” he says again, but there’s a faint smirk adorning his lips—he’s endeared by you and how you still want to get him off despite not being able to keep your eyes open. “Later,” he adds as an afterthought, because he knows that once you’ve started, you’re nearly insatiable, “We can do it later.”

He kisses your mouth softly, and without thinking, you part your lips and open up for him. It’s quite one-sided, seeing how you’re still drained, but he hums happily nonetheless, cupping your face in his hand and stroking along your cheek.

“Love you,” you breathe when he pulls back.

He smiles. “Love you more.”

He presses a series of smaller, teasing kisses to your lips—you giggle—before pausing. “And for the record,” he muses, his eyes sparkling with mischief, “I’d pick eating you over eating a fuckin’ kiwi any day.”

~*~

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ljfeed-spn-j2-bigbang · 7 years ago

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2017 Masterlist

This year, cloex_brosluvr is the hero for coding allll of this masterpost. Please tell her thank you! Below, you will find master lists of all the entries posted to this community for the 2017 spn_j2_bigbang challenge. I encourage you to scroll through the list and look for anything you might have missed. There is some AWESOME fic and some INCREDIBLE art, and it all deserves to be appreciated! If you see any errors, just let me know and I'm happy to correct them. Start getting ready for 2018, I'll see you right back here in January for sign-ups! JARED/JENSEN Fic title: Wandering Lost Link to art: Here Author name: dugindeep Artist name: thruterryseyes Genre: RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Word count: 36,000 Summary: Hired by an eccentric billionaire, Jensen is tasked with transporting a '55 Ford F-100 from California to New York. After the car breaks down, he's stuck in the middle of Nebraska and spends a week getting to know a whole mix of oddballs he'd never spend a minute with back in NYC. "Not all who wander are lost," but Jensen's a little of both as he warms up to the townspeople and the local handyman, who is equal parts peculiar and charming. And maybe he even finds himself along the way. 　 Fic title: To Protect Link to art: Here Author name: twoboys2love Artist name: 2blueshoes Genre: SPN RPS AU Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: Explicit Word count: 27,000 Warnings: Vague references to anxiety, hurt!Jensen, hurt!JDM, UST, violence, firearms, bottom!Jensen, assault Summary: Jensen is a famous author of horror novels. He gets his inspiration from his nightmares and fears. When he moves to an isolated house, he picks up a "stalker" who sends him vaguely threatening letters and flowers. His agent and long-time friend, JDM, hires a retired cop as live-in security for Jensen. As Jared makes himself at home in the house, on the grounds and the pool, they develop a friendship with tantalizing possibilities. What are Jared's motives for the friendship? Is JDM jealous or protective? Jensen ends up with two people he trusts pitted against each other. 　 Fic title: Come What May Link to art: Here Author name: hideurdemoneyes Artist name: quickreaver Genre: RPS AU Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC-17 Word count: ~32k Warnings: major angst, fluff, smut, major character death, modern day AU, prostitute!Jensen, writer!Jared, swearing, bottom!Jared, top!Jensen, implied past Jensen/others, implied bottom!Jensen, terminal illness, virgin!Jared, anal sex, anal fingering, rimming, drinking, attempted non-con, mild violence, singing, light feminization Summary: San Francisco, mid-2000's. Jared is fresh off the bus, a wild-eyed dreamer from Texas searching for fame and romance. He finds himself in an unexpected friendship with t he eccentric Misha and his gang of aspiring theatre folk, allowing them to introduce him to the seedy underbelly of the performance world. Along the way, Jared falls madly in love with the star of the failing Castro Theatre, Jensen. But there's another man out for Jensen's affections - the rich, powerful, and sadistic Jeffrey. Based as an AU of Moulin Rouge!, Jared and Jensen's tale is the greatest love story ever told -- and the greatest tragedy of this modern era. 　 Fic title: Forgiving the Past, Finding the Future Link to art: Here Author name: morganadw Artist name: white_laurel Genre: J2 AU Pairing: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki Rating: R Word count: 44,176 Warnings: This may contain slight triggers but nothing is shown and most of the serious trauma/abuse is in the past and mentioned in dialogue or description. This is a bottom!Jared fic as well that includes some minor kink and use of handcuffs. See tags and warnings on actual AO3 story post. Summary: Jensen Ackles & Jared Padalecki were once best friends and high school sweethearts in their small hometown of Paxton, Texas. They had plans to run away to start college & their life together on their terms until the night of graduation when betrayal and lies ruined those plans. A decade later found Jared returning back to the town he hated & finding himself confronted by Jensen, the man he believes lied and used him. Jensen wants answers as to why Jared not only ran away without any explanation but also now hates him. Upon learning the truth of that fateful night, Jensen uses some unconventional methods and his job as sheriff to get Jared to listen. He realizes he also has some listening to do as some of what Jared's done comes to light. The former flames must come to grips with their pasts and the events that led to their breakup. They will have to learn to forgive in order to heal and start moving forward towards a future they both still want. 　 Fic title: My Secret Heart Link to art: Here Author name: storyspinner70 Artist name: meesasometimes Genre: RPS Pairing: Jensen/Jared Rating: NC-17 Word count: 25,154 Warnings: bottom!Jared, top!Jensen, OCD!Jensen, genderqueer!Jared, m/m, light angst, schmoop, homophobia Summary: Jared isn’t obsessed with Jensen Ackles. Except, you know, that he really kind of is. A moment of clumsiness brings him into Jensen's life and they start a tentative friendship. As they get closer, they learn exactly how true the old adage is – you can never judge a book by its cover. He learns how Jensen struggles with OCD and the nightmare the world can be for him. He also learns Jensen is a safe place for him to lay his own secrets, and that not everyone will laugh at an all american college boy who, some days, wants nothing more than to be beautiful. College age AU. Reduced age gap boys. Genderqueer!Jared, OCD!Jensen, Not a cross dressing fic. 　 Fic title: Wake Me Up When September Ends Link to art: Here Author name: lullysg Artist name: kaelysta Genre: RPF AU Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC-17 Word count: 131k Warnings: descriptions of September 11th attack (only in the first couple of chapters), permanent injury, physical disability, PTSD, survivor’s guilt, alcoholism, depression, substance abuse, accidental overdose, a lot of angst, hurt/comfort, hurt!Jared Summary: It started out as a regular Tuesday morning in New York City. The sun was bright in the sky when at 8:46 a.m., a plane crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center. 2,606 people died in there that day, but there were also survivors. Jared and Jensen meet for the first time in a night that hadn't gone so well for either of them, and they build an instant connection. An unplanned second encounter happens while a building is threatening to collapse on their heads, and an impossible choice has to be made. The attack leaves deep scars, both physically and mentally, and they are going to learn that the hardest part wasn’t surviving September 11th. Finding the strength to keep living in the aftermath of what that day caused is what proves to be the real challenge, especially when the light at the end of the tunnel seems impossible to reach. 　 Fic title: When the Devil Came to Pluto Link to art: Here Author name: tsuki_no_bara Artist name: amberdreams Genre: RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: PG Word count: 21,300 Warnings: Chad. Asexual!Jensen. A certain amount of historical hand waving. Non-CW actors. Summary: The New Mexico territory in the 1870s is a vast and wild place, all scrubland and hills and mystery, home to gunslingers and miners and working girls and scattered native tribes. Jared and Jensen live in a little mining town called Pluto, keeping the peace for a brothel and occasionally checking up on the mine. The land around them is full of secrets and stories, which Jared is eager to learn and share. And then one night Jensen vanishes and Jared sets off through the desert to find him. A herd of ghost ponies brings him to the devil's front door, and even though the devil is not what Jared was expecting, he still thinks they can make a deal so he can get Jensen back. 　 Fic title: Bound Link to art: Here Author name: junkerin Artist name: emmatheslayer Genre: RPS Pairing: Jensen/Jared, Jensen/Misha (mentioned), Jensen/Lehne (non-con) Rating: NC-17 Word count: 35,809 Warnings: Non-con, slavery Summary: Thanks to nanobots humanity got finally rid of all diseases. Or so they thought. That was when "Omega" the last disease hits. It leaves the patient paralyzed while conscious. Catlin Padalecki finds a treatment in form of bonds or tapes that enables the "omegas" to move again. But her invention gets misused and sends the omegas into slavery. 25 years later Jensen Ackles is a freed omega who works with the resistance. He wants to pressure Catlin into helping them. But he only finds her son Jared and Jared is to not willing to help even after Jensen makes him an omega too. Can the two stubborn men overcome their differences? Will they be able to overcome hate and prejudice in order to free the omegas and to set right what once went wrong? 　 Fic title: A Song in the Stars Link to art: Here Author name: strive2bhappy Artist name: immortalfire13 Genre: RPS Pairing: J2 Rating: NC-17 Word count: 40,000 Warnings: mentions of past torture, scarring from said torture, a bit of blood from overuse of powers Summary: Jared Padalecki has dreamed of taking to the skies since he was five-years-old. When he becomes an adult and builds a spaceship of his own, he gets to do just that, looking for adventure -- little did he know the adventure waiting for him. Jensen Ackles is born part human, part Terryn and his life as an outcast is difficult -- music is his only real escape. When he's captured by the Dominion, an organization hell-bent on taking over every galaxy in every way they can, he's used as a lab experiment to see how his special, combined heritage can be advantageous for them. Fleeing Dominion control, he vows to himself, they will never find him again. A chance meeting between Jared and Jensen helps both of them get what they're looking for -- and the way things end up, it may have been more than just chance. From various planets throughout different galaxies, to nights under the stars in space, Jared and Jensen find in each other something worth fighting -- and possibly dying -- for. 　 Fic title: Silly Love Songs Link to art: Here Author name: nerdypastrychef Artist name: liliaeth Genre: RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC17 Word count: 28,436 Summary: Jensen’s life revolves around love songs. He feels about music the way that most kids feel about Disney movies. They all have a special place in his heart and all of his important memories are embedded with a soundtrack of his favorites. Jared, on the other hand, doesn’t care much about music beyond background noise and love songs are low on his list. But when he moves into a new apartment in downtown Austin his neighbor’s singing through their shared walls start to change his mind. A love story told in three acts. A YouTube Playlist for the music. 　 Fic title: Open Warfare: The Secret of a Successful Marriage Link to art: Here Author name: whiskygalore Artist name: magic_penguin Genre: RPS Pairing: J2 Rating: NC-17 Word count: 40k Warnings: Omega Jensen, Alpha Jared, Age switch, Very brief attempted non-con, and potty mouthed boys. Summary: There was a time that arranged marriages for Omegas were a common occurrence: thirty or forty years ago. Now, thankfully, Omegas have the same rights as everyone else, are free to live their own lives, to marry whomever they choose. Except for Jensen. Because, in a move that will save Ackles’ Systems from bankruptcy, Jensen’s dad has just signed him up for an arranged marriage to Jared Padalecki. Unfortunately, Jared is an idiot with a poor choice in friends, and Jensen is a stubborn dick with an unconventional profession, so it’s no surprise when their marriage quickly degenerates into a state of open warfare. 　 Fic title: The Pie that Binds Link to art: Here Author name: herminekurotowa Artist name: liliaeth Genre: RPS Pairing: Jensen/Jared, Jensen/Matt, Jared/OMC’s Rating: NC-17 Word count: 29,000 Warnings: kidnapping, slavery, non-consensual drug use, most dubious consent due to drug use, attempted rape, minor character deaths, hurt!Jared, hurt!Jensen Summary: Jensen lives in the woods, He'd never thought his sweet tooth could get him into trouble so deep he might drown in it. Jared lives in a palace made of stone because he's the king, but he's not very good at it. 　 Fic title: Till Death Do Us Part Link to art: Here Author name: aggiedoll Artist name: mangacat201 Genre: RPS Pairing: J2 Rating: NC-17 (PG for art) Word count: + ~126k Warnings: major character deaths (for fic, no warnings for art) Summary: When two young men, Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki, bump into each other in the crowded cab zone in front of a bustling airport, in the middle of a fierce comeback of winter in spring time, they don't know yet how their fates will soon intertwine – and how this connection has started years before without them realizing. When the competition between the ruling mob families Jensen and Jared belong to turns into an open war, things start to get out of hand. Mob Family politics threaten to crash and burn the forbidden love, marriages are being plotted, death sentences spoken. A mysterious blue eyed consigliore, called “The Angel” and a ruthless Russian mob boss who likes to call himself Lucifer are woven into the deadly game. A game that might become obsolete, as Jensen is fighting a war of his own against an illness no one knows of, and Jared desperately tries to write his own rules by turning his parents´ schemes against them... 　 Fic title: Therapy Link to art: Here Author name: sanshal Artist name: evian_fork Genre: RPS Pairing: J2 Rating: R Word count: 37,345 Warnings: There are instances of male-nudity, and (because of the theme) descriptions of power-imbalance. Also mentioned are one incident (each) of spanking, diapering, figging and past/off-screen, but referenced instance of self-harm. References to past dub-con. Jared suffers from self-hate/ excessive guilt and self-image issues. Unevenly sized chapters. Some language. ... and I think that covers it? Summary: Jared embarks on a D/S relationship to combat his depression. 　 Fic title: Of Princes and Prophecies Link to art: Here Author name: zubeneschamali Artist name: fridayblues Genre: RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC-17 Word count: 44,101 Summary: Jared has lost everything thanks to the usurper High King. He can't take any of it back, but he can strike out the only way he knows how: kidnap and ransom. The High King's fiancé is riding across the country and through Jared's forest, and wouldn't he be a fair prize? Jensen has not quite resigned himself to the fate of being the High King's second spouse when bandits strike. If he can get away from them, it might be his only chance for a life of his own. But once he finds out who the bandits' leader really is, everything will change, for himself and for his kingdom. 　 Fic title: The Lighthouse Link to art: Here Author name: timehasa_way Artist name: blondebitz Genre: RPS Pairing: J2 Rating: NC-17 Word count: 21,388 Warnings: top!Jensen, language/sex, some angst, AU Summary: When his adoptive mother loses her eyesight, a clueless Jensen takes her to the San Antonio Lighthouse for the Blind, an organization meant to empower, train, and educate those with her condition. Upon their first visit there, they meet Jared, a helpful volunteer who's been through a similar experience with his grandfather. Jared helps Jensen adjust by befriending him and accompanying him to blindness sensitivity training classes. Jensen comes to realize that he and Jared have a connection he can't ignore, and that this helpful volunteer could be the best thing that's ever happened to both him and the woman who raised him. 　 Fic title: Flickers Upon Cordillera Link to art: Here Author name: cyndrarae Artist name: yanyann Genre: RPS, werewolf lore AU, shifter lore AU, post-apocalyptic AU Pairing: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki (others: Jensen Ackles/Matt Cohen, Jared Padalecki/Adrianne Palicki, Jeffrey Dean Morgan/Andrew Lincoln, etc.) Rating: NC-17 Word count: ~70k Warnings: explicit m/m sex, bottom!Jared, BDSM elements, dubious consent, prostitution, non-graphic violence, character deaths, some heterosexual content, minor characters from cast of The Walking Dead Summary: It’s a brave new post-apocalyptic world. Humans no longer rule the planet, Lorics do. And at the bottom of the food chain are the shifters. This is a world pretending to be better, but racial tensions simmer thick under the surface. Then there’s Jared, genius-level shifter, pretending to be someone pretending to be Jared. And there’s Jensen, powerful Loric Alpha, falling in love with a human but accidentally bonding with a shifter. It’s an epical comedy of errors that snowballs into the biggest socio-political scandal of the millennium. One this brave new post-apocalyptic world sorely needed. 　 Fic title: The Load Link to art: Here Author name: zmphony Artist name: myukur Genre: RPF Pairing: J2 Rating: NC-17 Word count: 56k Warnings: Brief attempted non-con (not main characters), age gap, bottom!Jensen, daddy!kink, explicit sex, language. Summary: Jared had never picked up a hitch-hiker before. He’s spent the last five years behind the wheel of a semi-truck, looking down the endless black ribbon road like the barrel of a gun. This was his job – his life. It’s when he’s passing through Loveland, Colorado, a few weeks into the haul, that he sees him; sitting on the side of Route 287, a few scarce fingers from the yellow line dividing him from the wandering shoulder to Limbo, USA and instantaneous death. His thumb pokes out of a hole in his ratty black gloves, arms covered in flannel and denim, and his whole body is strapped under worn, beaten overalls. The line of his legs, constantly stepping backwards, becomes fractured at the calf where steel-toe boots begin. Overalls, Jared thinks. 　 Fic Title: Yours, Mine, and Ours Link to art: Here Author name: angelzfurys Artist name: bluefire986 Genre: Supernatural RPS Pairing: J2 - Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki Rating: NC-17 Word count: 54,000 Warnings: slight but not to detailed self harm and thoughts of suicide, not very detailed car accident with minor injury, male on male sex (just two small scenes) and some teenage sexual exploring in general. Summary: Jared and Jensen have been accidentally switched at birth. They grow up in vastly different circumstances owing to the fact that Jared is a werewolf in a family of humans who sometimes masquerades as the family dog while Jensen is the lone human in his pack and feels ever the third wheel. When the mix up is discovered it shakes up both families and opens a new can of worms for all involved. 　 Fic title: Fair Winds and Following Seas Link to art: Here Author name: riyku Artist name: phoenix1966 Genre: RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC-17 Word count: 21,000 Warnings: age difference, mentions of permanent injury (not the main characters) Summary: Deadliest Catch AU. Keep your head down. Work hard. Never wear a hat in the wheelhouse or your luck will take a nosedive. This is the rookie advice that Jared gets in his first few days as a deckhand on board an Alaskan crabbing boat, in between catnaps and ice storms, twenty-foot seas and more near misses than he really wants to count. He also learns early mornings followed by late nights aren't enough to kill a person, but ten minutes in below freezing waters might be, and that the biggest favor he can do for himself is to try and stay on the captain's good side. Jensen rose quickly through the ranks to become one of the youngest captains the fleet has ever seen, but he has been around long enough to know that no one ever gets through a season without a few battle scars. It's Jared's quick wit, sarcastic mouth, and a particular sort of point-of-no-return look about him that makes Jensen hire Jared on a whim, reminds Jensen a little of himself fifteen years ago. There's nothing better than watching the morning break over the bow of the ship - Jensen just needs to keep Jared alive and well long enough for the kid to figure that out for himself. 　 Fic title: Breaking the Ice Link to art: Here Author name: ashtraythief Artist name: dancing_adrift Genre: RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC-17 Word count: ~70k Summary: Jared has been harboring a crush on Jensen, the prince from the far north, ever since he was fourteen, so when his parents announce that they’ve chosen Jensen as his husband, Jared couldn’t be happier. But when Jensen arrives in Scayen, Jared realizes that there’s more to him than meets the eye — and even more that Jensen doesn’t want Jared to see. But it shouldn’t take much more than Jared’s sunny charm to melt Jensen’s icy facade, right? Except it isn’t so easy dealing with cultural differences and misunderstandings; sometimes it takes a lot of food, some good friends’ advice, a little kitten, and even a bit of magic to overcome a rocky start. 　 Fic title: Love is a Burning Thing and It Makes a Fiery Ring Link to art: Here Author name: deanshot Artist name: bflyw Genre: RPS AU Pairing: J2 Rating: NC-17 Word count: 32,759 Warnings: Bottom Jensen, scenes of fire damage Summary: Fire, one of nature’s purest forms consumes as it goes, caressing the earth in its fiery grip, like a serpents tongue it flickers and wraps its coils around living things before turning them black as life departs. Being part of the Glenveagh Fire search and rescue team was a dream job for Jared. But being part of a community that cared for each other and had no problem with Jared loving another man who happened to be the most gorgeous green eyed man he had ever met but also understood Jared’s passion for his job. Everything was going well until on a seemingly normal sunny day, one fights to stay alive while the other has to wait at his boyfriend’s base of operations. Each one living through their darkest day not knowing if they’ll see each other again. 　 Fic title: The Deeper Illusion Link to art: Here Author name: hybridshade Artist name: riverofwind Genre: RPS, AU Pairing: J2 Rating: Nc-17 Word count: 37k Warnings: includes some minor/previous pairings other than J2, dub-con situations, mind control, power imbalance, injured!Jensen Summary: Agent Jared Padalecki of the FBI's Magical Injustices Division is just doing his job when his team manages to capture high-level magic user and thief extraordinaire, Jensen Ackles. The takedown seems way too easy for Jared's liking, but Jensen refuses to divulge his motives until an attack on his life forces him to give up a name. That name is JD Morgan - an infamous mind-weaver and all-round bad guy that the MID has been quietly hunting for years. Using Jensen as bait, the Bureau decides to tie him and Jared together in more ways than one, and neither is particularly happy about the new arrangement. However, in the process of luring Morgan out into the open, Jensen's precariously kept secrets threaten to be exposed, and he and Jared may just be forced to put their lives on the line. 　 Fic title: Swallowing Matches Link to art: Here Author name: sleepypercy Artist name: emmatheslayer Genre: RPS AU Pairing: J2 Rating: NC-17 Word count: 32k Warnings: underage sexual content (younger Jared is the aggressor) starting at 13, implications of violence, actual violence, serial killers, rough sex, toxic relationships, bottom Jensen, Jensen/OMC Summary: Jared's a budding serial killer and Jensen's the boy next door who sometimes baby-sits. They've always been obsessed with each other, and Jared's always been able to get Jensen to do anything he wants. The problem is, Jared gets jealous. And when Jensen hits high school, Jared's not the only one who notices how pretty the boy is. 　 Fic title: Singularity Link to art: Here Author name: paleogymnast Artist name: lightthesparks Genre: RPS (sci fi au) Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: R Word count: 21,000 Warnings: descriptions and discussion of terrorism, war crimes, violence to children, and other unsettling subjects in a sci-fi setting; nonconsensual body modification; slavery; xenophobia; apartheid, other dystopian elements, and widespread mindf*ckery Summary: Thousands of years ago, humans left Earth and traveled to the stars. Hundreds of years later, humans left Earth once again, and founded a new home, New Terra. New Terra exists in peace, but danger lurks in her past, and the calm is nothing but a paper-thin illusion. War is returning—a centuries-old conflict between humans and "Pios," the pioneers who left earth hundreds of years before the settlers of New Terra. Will Jensen unlock the mystery of his past? Will Special Agent Jared Padalecki find the traitor responsible for the worst act of terrorism in New Terra's history? Or will their shared secrets push them towards a deeper hidden truth? 　 Fic title: Mayhem Afloat Link to art: Here Author name: candygramme and spoonlessone Artist name: thruterryseyes Genre: (rps) Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC-17 Word count: 33,572 Warnings: Minor Character Death Summary: A cruise should be a relaxing vacation away from the worries of the everyday world, but with an international assassin running wild, not to mention a master jewel thief, relaxing is the last word Jared Padalecki would use to describe his voyage. Fortunately there's a really hot lounge singer onboard to help take his mind off things. 　 Fic title: ...and heartbreak ensued Link to art: Here Author name: cillab42 Artist name: jessie_cristo73 Genre: SPN RPF Pairing: Jared/Jensen, Chris Kane/Steve Carlson, Tom Welling/Mike Rosenbaum, Chad Michael Murray/Matt Cohen Rating: NC-17 Word count: 75,041 Warnings: mentions of abortion, miscarriage, mpreg, A/B/O, werewolves, omegaverse, top!Jensen, Bottom!Jared, suicide attempt Summary: Jared loves Jensen, he does; he just doesn’t like being an Omega. He’s assimilating, but he’ll never be the perfect Omega that society demands. After a year of hell, he’s still attempting to reconcile who he was with who he is now and the answers aren’t easy. Especially when Jared spends his free time dreaming of subjugating his Alpha and have Jensen bend to his will. Jared plans to continue to struggle against his mate’s authority until Jensen comes to the aid of two Omegas whose problem takes up Jensen’s time and awaken a jealousy in Jared he wasn’t aware he had the capacity to feel. 　 Fic title: Untitled Superheroes or Why you should never let the media decide your superhero name Link to art: Here Author name: shadowcat_spn Artist name: siennavie Genre: RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC-17 Word count: 20k Warnings: Swearing, description of violence and injuries (minor, not too graphic), sexual situations, implied!bottom Jared Summary: Splashing color from your fingertips isn't the greatest superpower to have. But when a new villain emerges who only brings darkness it is left to a young reporter and his disabled chameleon to save the city. And maybe fall in love with his roommate along the way... Featuring Jared as a reluctant hero with a peculiar gift and a sense for bad timing, lots of color being splashed around and two boys being oblivious to what is right in front of them. Or: The hero and the villain unknowingly share a flat. 　 Fic title: Blues in the Night Link to art: Here Author name: oobydooby67 Artist name: beelikej Genre: J2 RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC-17 Word count: 33,000 Warnings: Vampire AU, blood, blood kink, graphic sex, PTSD, WWII, graphic violence, depiction of war, minor character death, implied character death, torture, angst, explicit sex/language. Summary: The search for a missing elder leads Jensen to Los Angeles, California. It is his responsibility to question contacts and connections about Tyman, who has not been heard from or seen in a year. Frustrated with the search, Jensen meets a human who claims to have had a casual relationship with Tyman. Jared trades information for two pastrami sandwiches and ten thousand dollars. Unfortunately, after the trade, Jensen is no closer to finding Tyman, and a lot closer to Jared than he ever thought possible. 　 Fic title: The Wounded Don't Cry Link to art: Here Author name: pinkisgoth Artist name: sinnerforhire Genre: RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: PG-13 (technically under the MPAA: R for language) Word count: 87k Summary: When artist Jensen Ackles moved to the Pacific Northwest from the southwest with his family – adoptive father Jeff and adoptive brothers Chris and Quinn – it gave him a chance to paint a whole new world of mountains and forest at the beautiful plateau near Mount Rainier. Two years later, disaster struck when Jensen was the victim of a violent attack that left his hands permanently injured to the point that he could no longer paint. During the two years since then, he has spent days helping his father and brother at the farm, café and draft horse rescue that has become the center of their lives on the plateau while slowly recovering, physically and mentally. One day their world is shaken when their new neighbor – a local tycoon infamous for his ruthless business methods – informs them that the survey line on their property is wrong and they are about to lose almost a third of their pasture to him. That is, unless one of them can work for him for a year, in which case he will deed over the property. Jensen goes to work for their mysterious new neighbors – coffee magnate Jared Padalecki and his lawyer Matt Cohen – but is shocked to discover one of his own paintings hanging in the house. As the past is slowly revealed and revisited, their lives are increasingly intertwined until the fateful day where all their lives may be changed – or destroyed – forever. 　 Fic title: Gladiator: A love story Link to art: Here Author name: zara_zee Artist name: evian_fork Genre: J2 RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC-17 Word count: 29,930 Warnings: violence, minor and spn-canon character deaths, torture, references to animal deaths, references to executions, m/m sex, slavery, branding, corporal punishment, non-con touching, attempted assault, non-graphic references to non-con and dub-con, fanciful Romanization of names, anachronistic language. Probably. Well it’s not ancient Latin, anyway. Summary: As a second son, Jensen Akelsen of Cimbria will never inherit the family farm, so he travels to Rome with a trader to join the Auxilia—the non-citizen corps of the Roman Imperial Army. Unfortunately, Jensen’s travel companion proves less than trustworthy and he finds himself sold into slavery. Jensen’s fighting skills see him bought by Ludus Armentarius, the training school which owns the most popular—and most terrifying—gladiator in all of Rome; the infamous Colossus, Jared of Illyria. Bitterly angry and struggling to adjust, the very last thing Jensen expects to find in his new life is friendship, romance and love. 　 Fic title: You're My Mortal Flaw; I'm Your Fatal Sin Link to art: Here Author name: backrose_17 Artist name: banbury Genre: RPS AU Pairing: Jensen/Jared Rating: Mature with a few NC-17 scenes Word count: 31,522 Warnings: Minor character death, top!Jensen, bottom!Jared, child trauma Summary: Jared has always been a fan of heroes and hopes to someday be the sidekick to his favorite hero the Dragon. What he didn't expect was one of the Dragon's worst villains to kill his parents and his life changed forever after that night. Being the adopted son of his hero's alter ego Jeffrey Dean Morgan Jared vows to do whatever it takes to prove himself to Jeff that he is a worthy hero. The day that Jensen Ackles and the new villain Chaos arrive into his life Jared's world is altered once again. Jared finds himself swept off his feet by Jensen and unable to say no to Chaos as Tempest. He has no clue what Chaos and Jensen are the same people, they, on the other hand, have known for a while who he is and plan to never let him go. If Jared knew what was waiting for him in the shadows he would have been happy dealing with the fact that his boyfriend was a dangerous villain. 　 Fic title: Muse FM Link to art: Here Author name: cleflink Artist name: dollarformyname Genre: RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: PG Word count: 31,920 Warnings: Fantasy violence Summary: Jared's job is boring, boring, boring. As a night security guard, he protects empty buildings by sitting on his ass and watching the security cameras while listening to a lot of talk radio. Not exactly the life he dreamed of for himself but hey, it's a living. When he gets chosen for a new job babysitting the front desk at Muse FM radio station, Jared's mostly expecting more of the same. He's not expecting Jensen, the mysterious, hoodie-wearing host of Muse FM's overnight show, to catch his interest quite so thoroughly, or to be quite so difficult to figure out. He's not expecting so many unanswered questions about what, exactly, he's supposed to be protecting Jensen from. He's also not expecting to care so much about either of those things. Oh, and he's definitely not expecting the monsters. 　 Fic title: Shipwreck Between Your Ribs Link to art: Here Author name: cherie_morte Artist name: cassiopeia7 Genre: RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC-17 Word count: 40,913 Warnings: Explicit sexual content and mental illness (supernaturally induced depression, suicidal ideation). Consent issues typical of selkie tales are not present between the main pairing but are discussed. Summary: AU: All Jensen wanted was a nice month at the beach. What he got was an over-affectionate seal that happens to turn into a hot guy when no one else is around. Jared makes Jensen’s summer better than he ever could have expected, but when his vacation is up and he has to return to the real world, Jensen finds that he's fallen in love with someone who can only truly love the ocean. 　 SAM/DEAN Fic title: Sometimes Love Don't Feel Like It Should Link to art: Here Author name: amypond45 Artist name: stormbrite Genre: Wincest Pairing: Sam/Dean Rating: PG-13 for show-level violence, sexual suggestiveness, bad language, dark themes Word count: 27,784 Warnings: suggested non-con, self-harm, addiction, sibling incest (not explicit) Summary: Investigating a rodent problem in the bunker, Sam and Dean find a magic door that reveals alternate realities, worlds that came into being when Dean made different choices throughout his life, sometimes disastrous ones. When Dean finds another version of his little brother, one who is wounded and alone and needs his help, his instincts lead to potential disaster as he learns that things aren't always what they seem. 　 Fic title: Flyover States Link to art: Here Author name: tardisonameter Artist name: badbastion Genre: Wincest Pairing: Sam/Dean Rating: NC-17 Word count: 32,000 Warnings: sexual content, canon-typical violence, angst Summary: Sam's world tips on its axis after his girlfriend dies in a fire and his brother is the only thing that keeps him from drowning. Despite his every intention to hunt down the demon that killed both Jessica and his mother 22 years ago and then returning to his studies, that plan grows more and more distant. The ever-presence of Dean's care morphs into something else over time, born from the need for comfort and fueled by danger and desperation, and Sam realizes something about the both of them. But transitioning from being brothers that are just beginning to find their way around each other again to something more, something that could potentially destroy them for good, is anything but easy. 　 Fic title: Seven Rows of Seven Link to art: Here Author name: smalltrolven Artist name: tx_devilorangel Genre: Wincest Pairing: Sam/Dean Rating: NC-17 Word count: 28,500 Summary: Soulless Sam reconsiders the leprechaun’s offer to retrieve his soul from the Cage. As they leave Elwood, Indiana behind them, Soulless Sam reads the fairy spell book in the car and weighs the pros and cons of giving up the freedom of being without a soul. Due to a series of ill-considered decisions, the payment of boons owed to the fairies cause changes to the brothers' relationship that have been a lifetime in the making. 　 Fic title: The lost plateau - The lost daughter Link to art: Here Author name: siriala Artist name: kuwlshadow Genre: Wincest AU, partial fusion with The Lost World Pairing: Dean/Sam Rating: NC-17 Word count: 30k Warnings: hurt Dean and hurt Sam, bottom!Sam, top!Dean, human Castiel, animalistic Impala, dinosaurs, ghosts and demons Summary: Still trapped on the plateau without the first clue about a way to escape, the members of the Campbell-Singer expedition settle in their new lives through more adventures and strange discoveries : backbreaking work down in the mines, ghosts and monsters, deadly volcano and ceremonial caverns ! The Winchester brothers and their allies might stand a chance of surviving all foes and obstacles if they prove smarter than the traitor in their midst, ready to take advantage of their weaknesses to get what he wants more than anything. Notes : this fic is a sequel to my 2016 bigbang, The lost plateau – The lost brother. If you haven't read it, you'll find everything you need to know in the new story. 　 Fic title: I Wanna Live With You (Even When We‘re Ghosts) Link to art: Here Author name: runedgirl Artist name: alexxkah Genre: Wincest Pairing: Sam/Dean Rating: NC-17 Word count: 23,400 Warnings: Character death (Dean is a ghost), suicidal ideation Summary: The Winchesters learned a long time ago that it takes more than death to part them. But Dean didn’t count on two things when he decided to stick around – Sam harbors feelings that aren’t just brotherly for him, and Bobby was right about what eventually happens to ghosts. 　 Fic title: Moments Lost Link to art: Here Author name: milly_gal Artist name: stormbrite Genre: Wincest Pairing: Sam/Dean. Pre-Crowley/Castiel Rating: NC-17 Word count: 29,780 Warnings: Temporary Major Character Death. Suicide. Blood, guts and gore. Dark Themes. Time Travelling Winchesters Summary: Sam's gone, Dean's barely holding on, and Castiel - well, Castiel's left nursing a man who's already given up. When Dean decides The Empty would be preferable to a life without his brother, Castiel has to find a way to scrub the red from his clothes and fix the world, a world that needs the Winchesters. It takes a deal with a deity who wants nothing more than to see the Winchesters burn, a reforming of old friendships, and an alliance with an unholy creature to bring Sam back into play and stop Dean making a cataclysmic mistake (again). Now, all that's stopping the universe being shredded is a group of individuals that make absolutely no sense: two desperate and disheveled Hunters, one half flaccid Angel, and a Demon who doesn't know which side of the fence he's sitting on any more. Can Dean let go of this Sam? Will Crowley finally pick a side? Can Castiel live with his guilt? Who knows, but one thing is set in stone: The Winchesters and their family never give up without a fight and they'll take whoever they need to, down with them. 　 Fic title: (Only) the Gods Can Dwell Forever Link to art: Here Author name: swan_song21 Artist name: blackrabbit42 Genre: wincest Pairing: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester Rating: NC-17 Word count: +34k Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence Summary: In his desperation to save his brother from The Mark of Cain, Sam makes a pact with Ishtar, the Sumerian goddess of love. The story follows Sam as he struggles to finish his quest, and comes to terms with his relationship with Dean. Only to discover that the solution has been with him all along. 　 Fic title: Stillness in Winter Link to art: Here Author name: glasslogic Artist name: blythechild Genre: Wincest - unrelated , slash Pairing: Dean/Sam Rating: R Word count: 34k Warnings: Vampires, Murder and slow, sleepy sex Summary: As the world around him gives up its autumn colors and settles down into the long cold of winter, Sam's own body is finally slowing into its own kind of hibernation. Deep in the mountains with only Dean and a broken laptop for company, isolation is their best defense against the outside world during the vulnerability of Sam's transformation. Sam didn't expect becoming a vampire to be easy, but he didn't expect almost a decade of being mind-numbingly bored either. He should have remembered that the world has cures for boredom – and the cure is always worse than the disease.　 Fic title: The Many Bitchfaces of Sam Winchester Link to art: Here Author name: majestic_duxk Artist name: stargazingchola Genre: Gen Rating: PG Word count: 22400 Warnings: canonical death, but not all canonical deaths, show level violence, spn au, John Winchester neutral, canon verse, canon divergent, brotherly relationship, angst, misunderstandings Summary: Sam's always had a way with words. Dean's always admired it, respected it. But what he can do with a single facial expression? That's pure genius. 　 Fic title: A Step Beyond Logic Link to art: Here Author name: firesign10 Artist name: red_b_rackham Genre: Gen Rating: R Word count: 20,760 Warnings: Major Character Death, Side Character Deaths Summary: When Gadreel kills Kevin, it triggers a series of personal losses and grief that devastate Dean. He continues to hunt, but travels a path of moral ambiguity, self-searching, and analysis that ultimately leads him to take drastic action. Working with Rowena, Dean confronts God (Chuck) and seeks to violently reshape the world on a scale that even the Winchesters have never attempted before. Fic title: Through the Valley of the Shadow of Death Link to art: Here Author name: ameraleigh Artist name: kuwlshadow Genre: SPN AU Pairing: Dean/Cas Rating: R Word count: 31191 Warnings: character death, sexual content, horror elements Summary: When Sam came home, they thought that their troubles would be over. That they could get back the normal life they craved so much but when the demon who had spent more than a decade torturing them threatens to take away everything and everyone they love; Sam and Dean are forced to team up with Crowley via a binding spell. Instead of normal they are forced to deal with the horrors of time travel, curses, evil spirits, the devil and a weapon that could potentially blow up their entire lives. Continues on from His Name Was Death and Hell Followed with Him. Fic title: Curse Breaker Link to art: Here Author name: all_the_damned Artist name: m14mouse Genre: Supernatural AU Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Castiel, Dean/Sam/Castiel Rating: NC-17 Word count: 50,722 Warnings: Mystery, Horror, Memory manipulation, Spells and curses, Light blasphemy, Brief references to torture--including sexual assault and mutilation, War, Demon deals, Hellhounds, Blood drinking, Slavery, Immortality, Deception and lies, Sibling Rivalry, Wings, Rimming, Biting, Anal, Hand feeding, Humiliation, Service Submission, Magically induced asexuality, Complicated book restoration Summary: In Heaven, all angels bow to Michael, immortal god and supreme ruler, the architect of peace and order. At his command, Castiel, a humble librarian, is sent to Hell to serve as ambassador, the liaison between regimented Heaven and unruly Hell. Castiel doesn't feel up to the task, especially after meeting Lord Winchester, the charismatic and cruel ruler of a large territory in Hell. At Winchester Hall Castiel finds secrets, lies and manipulations. But he may also find the answer to the disturbing dreams that have long disrupted his sleep. Fic title: Sweets For My Sweet Link to art: Here Author name: ascn Artist name: knowmefirst Genre: SPN AU Pairing: Sabriel Rating: NC-17 Word count: 24k Warnings: Gore, Murder, Blood, Blood-play, Mental Illness, Hallucinations, Injury, Bleeding, Serial Killers, Psychology, mentions of abuse, mentions of sex trafficking, death Summary: Serial killers Sam Winchester and Gabriel Novak dole out their brand of poetic justice as the Karma Killers, disposing of those who have slipped through the law's fingers. After a botched kill tears them apart, leaving Gabriel in jail and Sam floundering on his own, the two Killer lovebirds have to find a way to be together, or die trying. 　 from Supernatural and J-Squared Big Bang Challenge! http://ift.tt/2ucrgza

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