#I had better phones before that was half the price. T-T

[lisenberry]

The sweat on your skin is better than regret on your heart

Part Two of this one and a big thanks to both the anon for suggesting it, and this skin for inspiring it.

Tattoo Artist!Price x F!Reader

CW: alcohol, explicit/suggestive language, breakups, smoking.

You walked into his shop like a blossom falling from a cherry tree.  Bright and billowing in your pastel sundress, but bound to start wilting as soon as you hit the ground.  You weren’t his usual clientele, but he tried not to judge on looks alone.  It was his years of experience that told him it wasn’t a tattoo you were after, but an experience.  A line of demarcation.  A before and an after.

And you’d only come to regret it in the morning.

For the best, he thought.  You probably wanted something small and abstract.  With too many details that would translate poorly on the tiny patch of skin you could conceal easily when you returned home to your boyfriend.  Or your daddy.

“Hey there, rosy cheeks.  You lost?” 

He watched as your easy, confident smile turned guarded as you realized it was only the two of you in the small shop.  You were his last appointment for the day, and he never accepted walk-ins after six.  Most of the tourists were good and bladdered by that point.  It wasn’t worth the money to fight off a group of toffs who couldn’t hold their Peroni and didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

“I have an appointment with John?  I emailed earlier?”  Your statements came out more like questions as you nervously busied your hands folding your sunglasses in the darkened room. 

“Right.  I was just about to pop out for a smoke.  Care to join, while you tell me what you’re looking for?”  He pulled a cig down from behind his ear, a bottle of water from the fridge, a half-eaten bag of crisps from the shelf behind his desk.

He notched the first between his lips and handed the rest to you as he ushered you gruffly back through the front door to the bench along the street.

“Well, I was looking for something small.  Like a flower or a bird, maybe?  I found a few ideas on my phone.”  You chugged a strengthening drink of the water, and fished your phone out of your dress pocket, balancing the bag of crisps between your bare knees.

“How long have wanted to get something done?”  He inquired as he lit the end with a quick flip of his lighter and sucked in a long, practiced pull.  The sleeves and chest of his Union Jack t-shirt pulled tight against his sun-ruddied skin.  Not quite tanned, but not burned either.  Weathered.

Strange, you thought.  He didn’t have any visible tattoos.  Most tattoo artists you’d seen were covered from head to toe.  His neck and forearms were clear, at least of ink.  Marred instead by a soft dusting of dark hair and a scattering of angry scars.

“I’ve always thought about it, just never the right time.  My friends were going to come with me, but they backed out.”  You crunched on a handful of crisps and shrugged your shoulders.

“They let you come here all alone?”

“Well, it’s not like I need to be supervised.  I am a full-grown adult,” you grumbled with your mouth full again.  Your belly thanked you for the salty snack as you burned off the last of the day’s wine.

“Rosy darling, I’ve got tattoos older than you.”

It earned him a snorted laugh around your sip of water, as you coughed your amusement.  He was just being facetious, of course.  He wasn’t that old, and you weren’t that young.  Each enough to know better, anyway. 

You had a fiery sweetness that made him feel tight and dried up.  Like once oiled leather left too long in the sun, and he flexed to loosen his tired neck and back from a long day of bending over his work.

“He was supposed to miss me,” you recovered somberly, lost in your own thoughts.

Ah yes, there it was.  He knew he recognized something in the slump of your posture.  The reckless flare in your chest as you marched into his office, like you were fresh from a fight.

Maybe not too young, but certainly too innocent and wounded to be left alone with someone like him.

“Can I tell you a secret, love?”  He blew a short tendril of smoke from his nose, in a way that had you wondering how much of it clung to his mustache.  What it would taste like on his lips.  “You’re not responsible for other people’s choices.  Or their treatment of you.  Learn from it.  Let it go.  And move on.”

“That’s very mature advice.  My friends told me to find a decent cock and ride it until I feel better.” 

It was his turn to choke, this time wheezing out a surprised breath at your candor.  Clearly not that innocent, then. 

His smile made the lines around his eyes deepen in a boyish way.  His cheeks lifted to reveal pink lips and a dimple otherwise hidden just above his beard.  A peek at a row of white, slightly wonky teeth.

Well, shit, you gulped inwardly, noticing his hands as he boldly dipped one into the bag of crisps still perched between your legs. 

He may not have been a bartender or a finance bro, and water and crisps were a far cry from sparkling prosecco.

But he didn’t have any sign of a wedding ring, and you had lost your nerve to get a tattoo.

Stay tuned for Part 3 bringing the smut. I lied. Part Four brings the smut. Part three brings the feelings.

[kaydenverse]

grocery emergency

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x reader x john "soap" mctavish

18+ MINORS DNI

genre: smut with fluff mixed in

word count: 2.6k

a/n: i swear i'm trying to get more works out i've just had a rough start to my year so bare with me for the time being lmao but enjoy this that's been sitting in my google docs for like a month

content warnings: gender neutral reader, phone sex, excessive swearing, teasing, switch reader, switch simon, switch johnny, quickie, price is so done, gaz is a little shit

summary: why the fuck haven’t we as a society figured out how to teleport yet? johnny’s got somewhere he needs to be and it’s not standing in a hallway on the phone on base. 

“how much longer are we gonna be here, cap?” johnny questions as he lightly taps a stack of papers on the coffee table in front of him and straightens them out. he neatly sets them back down on the table before sitting up a little to stretch his back. 

johnny sits cross legged on the floor in front of the polished coffee table. although it would probably be better for his back to sit on the cushioned black leather couch opposite of him where kyle had been sitting before he went to grab a file price had asked for. but still he swears the floor is more comfortable. his tailbone is starting to hurt though, he realizes.

he’s still going to sit on the floor

“i’ve got one more folder and gaz is going to bring another one in a couple minutes,” price sighs, his office chair creaking as he leans back into it. “we should be done after those and you'll be free to go, son.” johnny’s heart swells a bit at the nickname but instead of telling price that, he huffs which makes the captain chuckle.

the five of you had gotten back from a successful mission in moscow, just a simple recon, a few days ago. now you had to do the boring parts of your jobs, the long debriefings and the piles of paperwork.

you and ghost had remained tucked away at the top of an abandoned building with your sniper guns to cover soap, gaz, and price while they had raided the warehouse across the street. because the three of them had been in the main action, naturally, they had more paperwork to cover than the two who kept look-out from a distance. 

but don’t get anyone wrong, of course the two of you still did a phenomenal job of dropping any and all of the strays who tried to escape the wrath of your three teammates. they were sorely mistaken when a bullet from your gun would lodge itself into their necks. 

johnny sighs as he picks another folder up and flips it open. his mind begins to wander before he’s even gotten halfway through the first page.

he’s thinking about this morning.

again. 

-

in all honesty, earlier that morning, johnny had deeply considered turning his car back around and called in sick because of how desperate and clingy his two partners had been while he had gotten ready. he to go in and finish up some leftover paperwork with price. he had swatted both your hands and simon’s away from dripping past the waistband of his pants. 

“stop it.” johnny said sternly as he grabbed your wrist when your fingers began to work their way down his happy trail yet again. “i’ll be gone for barely half a day, maybe less, we’re almost done with everything. you can wait.” he snickers. you groan in defeat and slump forward so your right cheek presses up against his back. simon leans in the doorway of the bathroom with his arms crossed over his chest. 

he would gladly stay and let your hands wander all over him but he knows he’ll be at least an hour late because johnny likes to take his time with you in the mornings. price wouldn’t be too excited about the late arrival. not after the last time that happened.

“i’ll just fuck simon then.” you resort, your voice still laced with drowsiness from having woken up to johnny’s 7 am alarm. you still keep your arms locked around johnny’s waist and one corner of simon’s mouth perks up at the suggestion. the messy blond hair atop Simon’s head that curls around the tops of his ears and the sleepy look in his eyes only makes your sexual frustration grow. 

“no.” johnny says, plain and simple. he combs a hand through his mohawk. “wait until i get back home, both of you.” he locks eyes with simon through the mirror he’s standing in front of. 

simon hums with his head held high as he strides over to the two of you. he kisses the top of johnny’s head, catching a whiff of johnny’s eucalyptus scented shampoo. he then kisses the top of your head that smell like your own shampoo. he makes sure what he murmurs to you is loud enough that johnny can hear too.

“you can fuck me all you’d like once he’s left for work, darling.” simon’s sleepiness adds an extra gruffness to his already deep voice. that alone nearly made johnny call price and ask to do the paperwork tomorrow.

nearly. 

“sure, go ahead.” johnny turns around to face the two of you. “but if you do so and i find out, i won't let either of you cum for a week.” the almost cold tone of his voice as he speaks and the cocking of his head makes you go weak in the knees and simon grins. “and i always find out.” 

“not always.” simon says in a very matter of fact way. the grin that plasters across johnny’s face is devilish. if simon hadn’t grabbed ahold of your hip when he’d kissed your head, you’re almost sure that your knees would’ve completely given out from how wonderfully taunting johnny looked. 

“i pay good attention to detail, lieutenant, i always know.” he gives you a peck on your lips then simon’s before slipping out of the bathroom to finish getting ready for the day. 

-

johnny is pulled out of his thoughts when his phone begins to vibrate on the table. normally he would  let it send whoever had called to voicemail due to his current task but his heart jumps when he sees your contact name and the contact picture of you smiling softly at the camera. in that photo, he can tell you're looking at him and not the camera because of the look of adoration on your face. 

he glances up at price who nods to let him take the call. you don’t often call him when he’s at the office and you’re home. you’d usually just text him and let him respond when he can so he assumes it must be important if you’re calling. 

“hey, what’s up-“ johnny is almost immediately cut off by you speaking. 

“can si and i please fuck? we were going to wait until you got home, i swear to god we were, but i feel like i’m going to fucking explode right fucking now. you can stay on the phone if you want to.” you’re so straight to the point that a cackle from simon can be heard through the phone. 

johnny is ridden speechless for a few seconds at such a forward request. he can hear the desperation in your words, you’re not even trying to be subtle at all. he blinks before he speaks again. 

“sorry cap, grocery emergency.” johnny stands up to excuse himself. price is a tad confused but lets him go to solve the problem. johnny eyes clock above the door before walking out into the hall. 

“you’ve got seven minutes. go.” johnny leans back against the wall with his free hand shoved into his pocket. immediately, johnny can hear the two of you begin to shuffle around. he can also hear the sloppy kisses that are exchanged between the soft thuds of clothing hitting the floor. 

“simon,” you say in a stern manner. “let me ride you.” the bluntness in your voice makes johnny exhale a small laugh. 

you will forever be a stubborn one in bed.

“but-“ simon sounds winded, sounds like you’d refused to let him take his lips off yours to breathe. 

you had. 

“ah,” all shuffling on the other end of the phone ceases at the sound of johnny’s voice. he hums in approval as the scot waits until a new recruit, who’s name slips johnny’s mind at the moment, to quickly shuffle past him and down the hall. they exchange a silent nod of greeting before the recruit disappears around the corner. “listen to them. since you decided to be such a brat this morning.” he then continues in a slightly hushed tone. 

johnny can clearly visualize simon giving the phone a glare that he just knows simon just gave as he allows you to settle in his lap. the phone falls silent again and johnny grins proudly.

you’re both waiting for his next call of instruction. 

always so good for him.

“well? hurry it up, you’re losin’ time.” johnny glances down at his watch to see you’ve both got just over five minutes left. the shuffling resumes followed but a pleased groan from simon. johnny knows that kind of groan from the many times he’s pinched simon’s nipples. 

“no teasing,” simon’s voice has pitched up ever so slightly. johnny shivers delightfully at the small detail. “no time for that.” 

“so needy.” you coo which you then follow up with a low moan. when the wet sounds of you picking your hips up and then quickly dropping back down spills through the speaker of johnny’s phone, he swears his knees almost buckle. he leans his head back against the wall and stares at the ceiling. 

you’d both prepared for him to give in, touched each other before you’d called him.

he makes a mental note to praise the two of you on this silly little scheme later on. 

oh, how he wishes he was there. 

oh, how he wishes to sit himself on the end of the bed and watch his partners desperately pull orgasms out of each other. 

oh, how he wishes he can see simon’s glossed over eyes peak over your shoulder and moan out a whiny ‘please touch us.’ to johnny. 

“stop trying to hold your tongue, let it out si.” your sultry tone makes johnny let out a shaky breath.

oh, how he wishes he were there. 

simon groans as the wet sound over the phone picks up in pace and volume. johnny clicks the volume up on his phone two clicks. any louder and anyone who were to walk by would very clearly hear sounds that one certainly wouldn’t make at in grocery store. 

“three minutes.” johnny glances down at his watch again. he could swear his soul left his body for a second when he hears a faint gag followed by a chuckle from you. 

“so fucking pretty sucking on my fingers like that.” your voice is much closer to the microphone now. you’d picked up your phone and held it as you ground your hips down onto simon’s. johnny can now clearly hear simon’s panting and shaky groans. 

simon always likes to joke that if anyone, and i mean anyone, somehow knew just how pathetic simon could get at the hands of you and johnny, he just might have to kill them.

 he’s obviously kidding.

maybe. 

“johnny,” simon breathes out and johnny thinks he’s about to collapse. the name is muffled, almost slurred really. your fingers pressing down on simon’s tongue force him to sound like that. 

why the fuck haven’t we as a society figured out how to teleport yet? johnny’s got somewhere he needs to be and it’s not standing in a hallway on the phone on base. 

unbelievable. 

“you gonna cum for us, si? come on make it quick, you’re down to two minutes.” johnny hums and both of you make a noise of pleasure at that. the drop in johnny’s tone makes his accent sound thicker in the best way possible. on top of that, the time limit is exciting you far more than either of you had anticipated.

“fucking-“ you’re words fizzle out into a whine when johnny hears the way simon begin to meet your bounces on him. that skin-on-skin noise that johnny loves to hear so much grows louder. “i’m gonna fucking cum.” he then hears you drop the phone. he can picture the way you start shaking atop simon when your incredibly pleased sob fills johnny’s ear. 

“there you go, just like that.” simon sighs as your fingers slip out of his mouth. he wraps an arm around your hips to move you himself. johnny’s hips twitch at the rasp in simon’s voice. he’s starting to wish he didn’t leave you both on edge this morning. 

he should’ve known his two bratty partners would  both do this to him.

“45 seconds or i’ll make you stop and i’m not touching either of you until tomorrow instead of when i get home.” johnny keeps his voice flat to hide how needy he’s starting to get.

that’s a lie.

that’s a lie and all three of you know it. 

he’d have his hands on both of you before the front door is even fully closed and locked regardless of how long you take. 

not even a full two seconds later, you’re squeezing your knees around simon’s waist. “come on pretty boy.” you moan out as you fall apart. and that pet name has him spilling into you seconds later. johnny can feel the tips of his ears burning bright fucking red. 

he’s hard now and there’s nothing he can do about it until he gets home to you two.

“finished with 15 seconds to spare.” johnny’s makes sure you can hear the smile in his voice. “i’m impressed.” 

“well having been on edge from this morning really helped.” you’re panting and feel like mush in simon’s lap. 

“you’re an arse for that by the way.” simon grunts. johnny snickers and shrugs his shoulders. 

“you liked it though, both of ya did.” johnny points out and takes the beat of silence as confirmation.”but seven minutes are up, i gotta go.” he says reluctantly. he feels like he should stick around for aftercare for a bit but he is unfortunately needed elsewhere. 

damn that all of that paperwork, why can’t it fill itself out? 

but he knows you two can take care of each other. he smiles at the thought. 

“you brats both did so well. i’ll decide if that little plan is punishment worthy or not later. that was a genius plan by the way.” johnny chuckles. his heart swells both of your laughs. such wonderful sounds. 

“i love you, johnny.” your voice is back next to the speaker again. his heart somehow manages to swell even bigger when you kiss the phone. 

“i also love you, mctavish.” simon adds. he kisses the phone as well but only because you silently insisted that he did. he pretends to hate doing that. 

“i love you both too. i’ll be home soon so please be good until then.” johnny says, kissing the phone two times for his two favorite people.

“be good until then” you playfully mock the mohawked man’s accent. simon can’t help but snort at that. 

“very funny.” johnny chuckles. “and please actually go to the store, we need more milk.” he doesn’t notice kyle standing in the doorway of his office a few feet away with a file in his hands until he hangs up and turns to walk to price’s office door again. johnny’s face flushes at the amused look on his teammates face.

“how long you been standin’ there, mate?” johnny shyly slipped his phone into his back pocket. 

“opened the door right when you were telling your brats how well they did.” kyle teases. thankfully, that’s all that kyle says before opening the door to price’s office and walks, leaving the door open for johnny to follow him back in. 

but, kyle will be bringing this back up later over comms next mission. 

and price is going to question his life choices when he has to get the four of you back on task.

he pauses so he can quickly… adjust himself… before opening the door to price’s office again. 

“groceries sorted out?” price raises his eyebrows at the sergeant who once again seats himself in the chair across from his desk. 

“sorted out.” johnny nods, praying that price can’t see how red his ears are.

price sees, he always does. 

johnny flushes even harder at price’s next words while kyle erupts into laughter. 

“now let's get this paperwork sorted and quick so you can get home to help with those so-called “groceries” yeah?”

[clus444]

John P. (90-day fiance)

Based on the show. I thought it was a fun idea. enjoy!! This will be slightly inaccurate since there is a lot of visa stuff that I don't know. Will it turn into a series, who knows?

*Thump thump thump thump*

Don't be irrational, don't be irrational..... Shit.

I feel my heart beating in my ass. My palms are sweaty, my chest feels tight, and I just hope I don't pass out. What if he changes his mind? What if he doesn't like what he sees anymore? What if, what if, what if. So many whats and no answers. Y/n get your shit together. I'm going to get off this plane and meet my fiance. If he didn't like me, he wouldn't have asked to marry me!

*Ding!* It's showtime.

I met John on a work trip to London. I was bored in a bar and John's eyes found me multiple times that night. His gaze lit me up like the Fourth of July. He sent me over a drink and of course, who was I to turn that down. I lifted the drink in thanks and shot him my most charming smile. He grins and walks over to me.

The rest is history. Within 21 days he proposed to me on a walk through Kensington Gardens (A real place, but I'm adding to it). We were walking where swans idly swim by, lights decorated the sidewalk to light up the path, and there was a flower stand not that far away from us. "Stay here," He kisses my lips before walking forward.

I look at the water to watch the baby swans lazily follow their mother. My heart warms when I see a black swan circle the mother. They bend their necks down slightly and lean beaks on each other as they gracefully swim. The shape of their necks creates a heart and I feel as if the universe is trying to tell me something. Swans mate once in their life, when they meet their other half it's truly their other half. I look back at John to see him make his way to me.

Is he my half? From the moment I saw him, I felt an energy change though subtle it was there. When I looked into his eyes I saw pass the protector, the hardened war hero, and the lonely man who sits by himself. I saw someone who restricted himself from leaning on someone. I saw someone who didn't need to be fixed but supported. John's gone his whole life being the shoulder to cry on, the helping hand, the man with the plan. Is wrong to want to be the one he leans on?

A grin is on his face and must be infectious because I can't contain the smile that grows on mine. I'd marry him if I could, god I would give him an army if he asked. But I'm here for work and well John? Im not quite sure. "My mother and father used to bring us here sometimes because it's where he proposed. This garden has a prominent price family history here. I can't help but think I would be making a mistake if I didn't do the same," he drops to one knee and I look at him shocked.

"Umm- John?" I ask and look around before he grabs my hand.

"When I saw you at the bar, you not only took my breathe away but the very darkness that clouds my mind. Darling, my heart starves for you and I don't want to be full. My favorite feature about you is your hands...you can create something out of nothing. Your hands have this power over me. They hold our future, they give your brain a creative outlet, and most importantly they hold our love. I just want to be the support beam," He finishes off and slides a plain silver band off the flower stems. "I'll get you a better ring tomorrow, this is all he had and I did;t want to wait any longer. Will you marry me," He asks.

I step off the plane and twirl and ring around my finger. I truly can't believe this is happening. Most of me feel excited for this new chapter of my life. I feel lucky to have John by my side, appreciative. Though if you asked him he's the lucky one. I just hope he doesn't get cold feet or worse.

I walk until I find where to grab my bag. I haul it out and begin walking to the cafe inside the airport. I order a small tea with lemon and honey. My phone buzzes.

Pornstache- Ass is getting fatter, Definitely my doing.

I laugh and turn around to try to spot John. I see a tan bucket hat first and my man second. I put my stuff down and speedwalk to him. I aggressively grab his shirt and pull him to me. He quickly responds and cuffs the back of my head to kiss me deeper. I moan and he pulls back,"My wife is here, finally."

I giggle like a catholic school girl, who has just shown her ankle to the newspaper boy. I twirl a strand of hair between my fingers. "It appears so, though the wedding is in 90 days," I grab his hand to pick up my tea from where I left it on the table. He grabs my bag and we start on our way to the exit.

"I almost forgot to tell you. We got a full house when we get home," I hear him say that and look at him. I almost forgot about meeting his family. The only thing I can do now is nod and smile.

(I wanted to end it there but I love smut yall! I have a problem!)

On the ride to his house, I feel John slide his hand over my thigh. I squeeze before opening them slightly. He smirks and rubs circles with his thumb on my right left thigh. We glance at each other and I give him a cheeky smile. His hands slip into my pants and panties. His forefinger traces my folds lightly parting them to get to my pearl.

He draws fast circles on my clit and I push my hips forward. I moan and lay my head on the headrest. My clit surges vibrations all throughout my body. I can feel a second heartbeat where his fingers beatbox on my clit. The nerves that were tightly winding up my chest slowly dissipated. My breathing shortend for other reasons now and not panic. "I wanna test her so bad. Can tell she's been missing me, poor thing," he talks to my pussy.

She responds in clenches as I feel his thick, rough fingers enter my slippery folds. "mmmmm," I hum out and start rocking against his hand to cum faster. "Please, I wanna come," I beg for him to not tease. To give me this release and let my mind fill with thoughts of nothing. He grins and adds a finger then starts angling up. I arch my back and my heart pounds in rhythm to my pussy.

This is going to be a long ride.

Masterlist

John - Soap - Gaz - Simon

[alidravana]

Congrats on 150! May I humbly request Soap/Ghost with “I’m scared?”

This one really stumped me for a while, because I couldn't see either one of them saying "I'm scared"...and then the new game came out!

So here's an extra long drabble for this prompt, with spoilers for the MW2022 game:

“Soap?  Johnny, you there?” Ghost muttered into the phone, grabbing his jacket and stepping out of the bar so he could hear better.  Soap had left the bar earlier than the rest of the group; Ghost assumed that the kid had a bit too much Scotch, he had been looking a bit green around the edges.  Half expecting the Sergeant to have fallen asleep as soon as he got back to the base, he was surprised when his phone rang, Soap’s name flashing across the screen.  

He frowned when there was no response, wondering for a moment if the Soap had hung up, but then he could hear someone breathing faintly in the background.  “Sergeant?” He said sharply, hoping that the title would rouse the younger soldier.  

“G-Ghost?  Is that…is that you?” Soap’s voice came across the call shakily.  

“Yeah mate, you’re the one who called me,” Ghost replied, rolling his eyes at the slurred speech.  Soap was more intoxicated than he had originally thought.  “Do you need something?”

Ghost pressed the phone closer to his ear in alarm as he heard a loud, hitched breath followed by a muffled sob, almost as if Soap was trying to stop himself from crying.  “Johnny, where are you?” he demanded, his concern skyrocketing as he motioned to the rest of the group who had followed him out.

Covering the mouthpiece, he whispered to Laswell about tracing the phone call, the agent nodding in response as she stepped to the side.  

“Johnny, where are you?” Ghost repeated, a bit louder this time, switching the call to speaker so the others could hear.  

“I…I’m not really sure,” Soap mumbled, his words slurring together.  His breathing was labored, a deep rattling sound coming from his chest.  Ghost frowned, worried that perhaps Soap had hidden further injuries from their last mission, but before he could ask another question, Soap spoke first.

“I’m scared,” the younger man whispered, followed by another sob.  “I th-think I was drugged…maybe in the bar?  It’s…it’s getting harder t-to move.”

Ghost exchanged a glance with Price, the older man motioning for Gaz to go back inside to investigate.  

All of sudden, they heard a bang, the all too familiar sound of a gunshot, and a responding whimper from Soap.  Footsteps were approaching, and Ghost couldn’t help but flinch as though he was the one hiding, everyone else remaining silent as well as they waited to hear what was going to happen next.

But the last word they all heard from Soap before the call ended shot chills down Ghost’s spine.  

“Graves.”

[nobully]

25.  UMBRELLA :  for one muse to share their umbrella with the other on a rainy day!

a comprehensive list of scenarios | 25.  UMBRELLA :  for one muse to share their umbrella with the other on a rainy day.

Winter rain was the worst.

It stung, it froze, it somehow chilled the air around your face so when you breathed it in it was like inhaling aerated slushies up your nose and...yeah, it was pretty miserable.

Wang Yi stood at the trolley station with his hands in his pockets, looking at the raindrops as they drip-dropped in muted misery, and wondered how long he'd have to wait.

Ding!

A message on his phone. He reluctantly dug a hand out of its glove to read it.

Due to emergency road work around the Water of Styx, there will be detours on the Spirale-Line routes 1 and 3. The following trolley stops will be missed until further notice...

Oh look, his station's on the list. Fantastic. He checks the train schedule instead and nope, not gonna make it to the next one on foot. A taxi isn't worth the price and he doesn't have his own wheels, so it'd make more sense to walk. He would've done that in the first place if it wasn't, you know, raining freezing death and he had a bag of library books to carry home.

Sigh...time to suck it up.

Not long after he started trodding through the downpour, the hems of his pants are wet. His shoes are soaked through too, leaving him with cold feet. The library books are fine because he shielded them under his jacket, but that meant his head was exposed to the elements. Sometimes it sucked to live in Archimedes, where the roads wound back and forth like silly string and a distinct lack of malls meant no convenient storefronts to duck in from the weather. Sure it was picturesque, but who took selfies in the rain anyways?

'Achoo!' Damn but it was cold. He better not get sick again—

"Wang Yi!"

He looked up at the voice, peering through soppy bangs at a faint figure across the street.

'...Zhilan?'

'What are you doing out here?'

Instead of answering, the scholar started running towards him with a huge umbrella over his head. But the rain tripped him up a few feet away, causing him to slip.

"Ah—!"

'Got you!' Wang Yi caught him around the torso just in time, half spinning in the rain before they come to a stop. The umbrella in Zhilan's hands bopped against his head a few times before shakily steadying above them both.

"T-thank you." A bit flustered, the scholar wiped his glasses to give Wang Yi a closer look. "It really is you!"

'How come you're in Archimedes?' Wang Yi asked back. 'Isn't your apartment in Golden?'

"Ah, I wanted to stock up on Jueyan chilis from Star Trail. It's a hometown delicacy of mine," Zhilan began, but quickly adopted a serious expression again. "But Wang Yi, why are you walking in the rain? Did you forget about the last time you got sick?"

'Er, the trolley got cancelled so I thought I'd make it home on foot.'

"It's freezing out!" Zhilan scolded. His grip on the umbrella tightened as he shook it above their heads. "Here, share this with me. You're already completely soaked."

'But don't you have to get home yourself?' Wang Yi asked as he meekly shuffled under cover. 'I won't take long, I'm only about three blocks away.'

"That's not an excuse," the other tsk'd before noticing the bundle on his back. "What are you carrying?"

'Oh uh, library books.'

"I see, for your research again?"

'...yeah, you're right.'

"Then it's all the more important that you keep up your health," Zhilan went on matter-of-factly. "Back at the Akademiya, there were scholars who pushed themselves too hard in the pursuit of knowledge. Although their passion was commendable, it's fooldhardy to neglect one's body. I once witnessed a student who refused to sleep for a week and suffered debilitating migraines in consequence..."

Slowly they began to set off, Wang Yi nodding humbly to each and every example from Zhilan's past. When the scholar got worked up enough to start gesturing with his hands, he quietly took over the job of holding the umbrella above their heads.

The handle was still warm from where his companion held it last, soothing his icy fingers.

'...Zhilan,' Wang Yi tried after a lull in the conversation.

"Yes?"

'What do Jueyan chilis taste like?'

"That's right, I haven't told you about them!" Zhilan reached into his bag and plucked out one of the round, red vegetables, his eyes shining with excitement. "But I must warn you, they're quite spicy. Actually, I've meant to ask if there might be something akin to them in your own world, considering the geographical similarities you mentioned last time. Perhaps you could find its equivalent in the Star Trail as well! It would be fascinating if we were to compare their properties and..."

And on and on he went, cheeks turning a dusty pink that complemented the scarlet pepper in his palm. When they finally reached his condo, Wang Yi had to cough, then nudge Zhilan's shoulder, to catch his attention.

'We're here.'

"We are?" Zhilan looked around in surprise, then flushed slightly. "My apologies, I didn't mean to ramble on..."

'It's fine,' Wang Yi replied, then coughed again. 'Do you want to stay for dinner?'

"Oh no, I don't want to impose." Immediately Zhilan raised his hands to wave off the generous offer. "You still need to dry off, and to make you cook on top of that would be too much—"

'Because I'm pretty sure I have a recipe that'll work with Jueyan chilis, but I'd need an expert to tell me how it tastes,' Wang Yi went on as he led the way to the front door and took out his key. 'I'll pay you for them, I mean.'

"You don't have to do that, either!" the scholar protested. "It's getting late. I should leave you to your privacy!"

'So I can leave you to get hypothermia?' Wang Yi's gaze drifted down to Zhilan's legs. 'You're not even wearing rain boots. Your shoes are completely soaked through—at least wait for them to dry before heading home.'

"Ah...you're right..."

'I also still have your umbrella,' Wang Yi pointed out, neatly tucking it out of reach before Zhilan could reach to take it back. 'Come in and I'll start us off with a hot drink. Shouldn't you look after yourself too?'

There was a sheepish chuckle back. "I suppose it wouldn't be very convincing if I keep refusing your offer...and it'd be a poor example besides if I didn't follow my own advice."

'Right. So first off, coffee or tea?'

The door closed behind them, shutting out a bitter night.

Inside, all was warmth.

[viciouslyfilthy]

Starting the day with a splitting headache was not the best, but then again...it was the price to pay for fucking around all night.

Rotgut groaned as he sat up on his mattress, a hand up against his pulsating forehead. Where was he again?

Snoring.

Looking to his left, he could see August's figure, face-down on a very messy bed- his back slowly rising and lowering, accompanied by snoring. He still wore yesterday's clothes...with boots and everything on. It was evident he had climbed into bed without even bothering to take off his boots since the end of the bed was covered in mud and dirt.

His passed out rodent friend not too far away helped his memory clear up a little; he was at August's house. They had been going shenanigans of all kinds yesterday in the name of Halloween.

However, his thoughts immediately fell on his children- he needed to call his home- see how they were doing...

"Ugh..." he grumbled, stretching himself out, cracking a few old bones before attempting to stand up. He had to help himself with some furniture nearby since her legs were awfully sore. He went to open the nearest window to allow some light in, so he could better see his surroundings- and also to peek out. Obviously he was in London, but the area August lived in specifically was nearly deserted. He cringed at how empty the streets were, it couldn't be that early...

There it was! An old corded telephone. Despite his headache, he ignored it to sprint-walk towards the phone, and begin punching in a number into the rotary dial, while impatiently holding the reciever against his ear.

Silence, with the occasional beeping from the other end.

A small smile formed on his face as he heard someone picking up.

"¿Sí?" A woman's voice- clearly tired and annoyed, tone deep and raspy, it had to be her!

"¡Tatiana! Buenos días, cariño." Rotgut chuckled, twirling the cord of the phone.

"Hiiii, you're up early..." she either was not surprised her father was calling, or she was too tired to care.

"I haven't checked the time, is it?"

"Uhhh...it's eleven in the morning over here. Around where you are right now, should be about ten. Still- it's early enough for me. Don't you tend to call in the afternoons when you're out?"

"Si, si...but you lot were the first thing that came to mind when I woke up! How was yesterday? Did the little ones have fun? Did you have a nice time, dear? How was trick or treating?" The excitement in his voice was evident. He nearly forgot about his headache.

"It was fine. They had their fun, got enough candy to fill out an entire bath tub. Marquéz came by with some movies to watch, me and Carlos stuck around until they all fell asleep, then we just kind of went out to do our own thing."

"Wait, is-"

"Ah ah ah." Tati quickly interrupted her father before he could say anything.

"Before you say anything else- no. Carlos did not get himself in trouble. He's okay. He's sleeping on the couch. He did not get beaten up nor did he lose any other limbs. I made sure of it."

"Gracias..." he sighed in relief.

He always worried that little weasel might get himself hurt again ever since that accident where he lost his arm. A stubborn pain in the ass is what Carlos is, guess he got that from his father.

"What about you?" The woman on the other end asked, this time sounding genuinely interested- though still tired.

"Me? Oh, we did the usual- messing with people, scaring them- well- anyone...drinking games, movies, graveyard business, pestering vampires and succubi...you know. August's still passed out, otherwise I would've let you two chatter a little."

"That's fine. I'll call some other time. Has he finished with that ghoul I gave him?"

Rotgut looked around, and while there were some half-finished taxidermied monsters and a few demons he could see in another room right next to him...he did not see what Tati was referring to.

"Eh...I don't see it around here, it's probably still a work in progress, mi niña. When he's done he'll tell you, no te preocupes." He rubbed at his temples.

"Just wanted to check in with how it's going. Oh well.." she audibly yawned through the phone, "back to sleep I go, a'ight papá? Think I'll stick around here today, so don't sweat it."

The man chuckled again, felling his heart flutter and a feeling of calmness washing over him. He was simply happy he got to talk to his daughter and know that his youngest had fun and were okay last night.

"Right, sleep well, Tati. Love you."

"Mhm."

Soon after the call ended, his next goal was getting himself some tea, or warm milk to ease the headache and sleep a little longer, hopefully.

[screwpinecaprice]

Connie as a little metal figurine, requested by E350 at Patreon!

Complete with (a sharp) little sword!

[kickthecan-revolution]

I’m having the weirdest dreams - I still wake up a lot at night but I’m sleeping a lot more deeply and sleeping in much longer than I ever have. I forget the dreams right when I wake up and it’s fine because they are pretty unsettling.

I went with my interior designer and looked at outdoor furniture today and I’m excited, we picked out some really cool stuff. I’m freaked out by the price and spending money on stuff like this but it will last forever and I am here all of the time. I think this will help me enjoy the deck even more and feel even more comfortable having people over. Not that I am thinking about this at all at the moment but it will also really raise the rent appeal at a certain point if I want to rent it and move back to Seattle. She is so cool, I have a feeling we want to be the other’s friend but she’s nervous to say that because she doesn’t think it’s professional and I’m certainly too shy to say anything so LOL,  it’s so weird making friends for me. 

My brother is coming to stay Sunday through Tuesday and I’m excited. I have to get my car fixed on Tuesday because an engine light came on, I may have broken it driving so far after it sitting there for so long unattended.

The house is still on track to close, not next week but the week after. And that’s fine because we’ll get 500 dollars a day stay they postpone, which we need to cover all of their utilities and their taxes. BUT, it’s going to close, I’m confident in that. They still want it. And it really is amazing that we got the price we did for it, given how quickly it crashed  The week after we accepted the offer, the market in Seattle cratered. I feel so fortunate and grateful about that timing.

I also booked a physical for myself Tuesday at our companies wellness center. I got this weird, fairly concerning bruise that just popped up out of nowhere and it doesn’t hurt when I press it. It prompted me to realize I haven’t had a physical in over two years? Maybe longer? I need to make a dentist appointment as well. And a mammogram, and the laydeez exam which is last on my list because I almost forget that I have a vagina. Do I still? 

It’s so nice not to work, I can’t explain it. I chatted with my BFF R little bit yesterday who said it’s crazy and my boss seems to be struggling; she asked when I was coming back and said, stay away as long as you can this is really really chaotic right now. I do need to write my reviews before I go back, that’s OK. They are short and a half a day.

I keep thinking that I can retire next October, that’s where my mind goes constantly but I know that is not possible especially with the economy. But I always operate better when I have a plan, so I’m keeping next October in my mind and building a plan against that.

I’m less sad, less emotional. I’ve almost finished out everything I need regarding their finances, I have to do some thing about her urn which I’m dreading but I will do that today. I have to go to the AT&T store when I get my mom‘s death certificate, but I think I might want to keep her phone on just so I can listen to the voicemails. Or maybe I’ll record them. I don’t know, the letting go of things is really hard for me. The alarm on my mom‘s phone went off and that made me sad for some reason. I still cry a little bit when I talk about her, the words just aren’t all there yet. I think I just miss my mom, maybe the idea of her as she was so different and faded in the last year. I don’t feel any regret for the last year or so that she was so much by her self as that was what she preferred. Maybe I will later, I don’t know.

[asset35-maya]

I am sleepy but I gotta make a request before the busy tomorrow so 2 things on my mind! Sleepy and the 'oh my god they were roomates' vine xD with any characters and aus I love everything you write anyways xD Happy timezones and best vibes your way >^<!! 💖💞💕💕

Oh my god, they were roommates…

//

“The rental market in Detroit is absolute shit! How dare these bloodsuckers charge such high rates for the most under-developed properties! This city’s going to the dogs!”

“Uh-huh.”

“You have to pay your own weight in gold just to live in a shoebox for a year. Nonsense!”

“Uh…”

“Are you even listening to me, Tina!

Tina?

Goddamnit Tina!”

Gavin thumped his fist on her desk, but Tina’s eyes barely flicked up from her phone.

“Oh my god, you sound like my grandpa…”

Gavin turned red and his brain buzzed with a thousand colourful retorts. He was just about to pick one when Tina stopped scrolling and turned her phone screen towards him.

CYBERSCALIA @ NEW JERICHO

The suburban paradise for executive androids and humans alike. Located 25 minutes drive from downtown Detroit, with a full amenities.

Gavin’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He balked at her.

“You’re joking? How could I possibly…?”

“Get with the times, boomer…”

Tina lazily skimmed her thumb over the screen. The webpage promised plenty of greenery, good infrastructure and modest but spacious rooms. The extremely reasonable price tag was Gavin’s dream come true. He’d spent weeks apartment hunting in the wake of an early lease termination by his cantankerous landlord. Gavin knew he’d never find a better deal.

“Shit, this is so good, T! Why the phck does it have to be in that- that place!”

His friend arched a sceptical eyebrow.

“What place?”

“The Tincan ghetto!”

Tina smacked him on the arm. None too gently.

“It’s subsided public housing located in an android-friendly estate… because they’re the ones that need it most right now. And frankly, you seem to be in just as much need, so you should really get off that high horse.”

“Fine, fine. You’re right. I should seriously consider this place, even if my neighbours are gonna have more in common with my car than me. But damn, it seems a little too good to be true. There’s probably some fine print, hidden costs that’ll come out later.”

“Hmm… let’s see…”

Tina scrolled further and then let out a half-laugh. She held her phone up again.

“Nothing shady about the rates, but there is something you should know…”

At the risk of being called old again, Gavin squinted at the screen and read aloud.

“Bearing in mind the founding principles of New Jericho, all human occupants may only apply for tenancy in co-habitation with at least one android citizen of the United States of- JESUS PHCKING CHRIST! Absolutely not! I am not going to live with a plastic prick!”

//

Gavin had to get through half a bottle of wine before he could bear to scroll through the rental listings. Unlike other humans who had happily moved into New Jericho with their android friends or partners, he had to find an android who was also looking for a flatmate.

Some listings came from ardent supporters of Markus. These were the androids who wanted to ease the post-revolution transition by reaching out to humans. Some listings were put up by the android equivalent of frat boys. These individuals were clearly looking for someone on the fringes of human society, someone who could show them a good (if not illegal) time.

Other posts came from eccentric androids who craved company but had likely been rejected by their own kind. Gavin felt a strange twisting sensation, almost like pity, when he came across a post written entirely in third person by someone called Ralph.

He had almost given up hope when he came across a simple little listing for a two bedroom apartment in Cyberscalia.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: Seeking a neat, self-sufficient co-renter. Human or android, no preference. I spend most of my time working and will be out of your way for the better part of the day. I only ask for silence during my nighttime stasis cycles, timely payment of dues and upkeep of cleanliness.

Gavin sighed in relief.

//

“Your room is the first door on the left, mine is the second. The bathroom, laundry and kitchenette are shared, as is the living room. I scarcely find use for the latter, so you need not worry about my intruding on any of your social gatherings, or vice versa. As long as you adhere to the terms of the agreement, our paths will not cross much.”

The tall, stiff-necked android dropped a set of keys, both mechanical and digital, into Gavin’s open palm.

“Er thanks.. RK… sorry I forgot your full model number…”

“You may call me Nines. Although, I’d rather you didn’t call me much of anything. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

In a swish of black fabric, the android turned on his heel and disappeared into his room. Two rapid clicks indicated the shutting and locking of his door.

Gavin sighed and looked around the open-plan living room. It was nothing fancy, but it was far beyond any of the other properties he’d viewed in weeks of unsuccessful house-hunting.

He sat down on the simple black couch with a huff and contemplated his situation. He’d ended up where he’d truly never expected to go, but objectively speaking, things were good… barring the high-handed manner of his robot flatmate, but who gave a shit about that.

He pulled out his phone to text Tina his thanks.

//

“I can’t! I refuse to! It is a violation of my personal ethics and I will simply not take this assignment any further. Good day to you sir!”

Gavin nearly dropped his bowl of cereal one morning when his roommate burst out of his door and rushed into the open balcony.

He hadn’t seen Nines in days, which was perfectly normal. The android came and went at odd hours and made hardly any noise. It was almost like living alone. The only reminder of Nines’ presence was the sight of several dark shirts and trousers regularly hung out to dry on the rack above the washing machine.

Gavin set his bowl down and watched the android tightly grip the bars of the railing and take several unnecessary breaths to calm down. He’d seen deviant colleagues express emotion many times before, but this was the first time he witnessed such a potent mixture of rage and sorrow from a synthetic being.

Out of empathy, but mostly curiosity, Gavin approached cautiously.

“Hey Nines… is everything alright…?”

There was no response for several moments. Then Nines turned around with a grimace and hands held upwards in a placating gesture.

“I apologise for the disturbance. It was hypocritical of me to disrupt the very peace and quiet I demand of you.”

“Uh… no worries…? Are you okay?”

There was a flash of steel blue eyes.

Gavin kicked himself mentally as he realised too late that he’d broached uncharted territory. Their interactions didn’t extend beyond curt nods on the rare occasion they found each other in the same space. It was almost as if Nines engineered the lack of contact, which wouldn’t surprise Gavin at all if it were the case.

“I’m fine. I merely experienced some frustration with my work.”

Perhaps it was boredom, perhaps it was his usual lack of self-preservative instinct… Gavin threw caution to the winds.

“What do you actually do?”

Nines’ expression remained stoic but his LED went through a spectacular series of colours and flashes. His next words were reluctant.

“I’m a private investigator.”

“Oh shit! I’m actually a cop.”

Gavin pointed dumbly at himself and then let his hand drop when he saw absolutely no surprise cross the android’s face.

“I know. That’s why I let you stay with me.”

“For safety?”

“Certainly not for your fashion sense.”

“Wow okay, I didn’t think I’d be much protection for a big scary droid like you.”

Nines hummed dismissively and started to move out of the balcony, body language fully indicating the end of the conversation.

Unable to help himself for some strange reason, Gavin blurted out another ill-advised question.

“What pissed you off so much?”

Nines paused halfway through side-stepping the human. A thrill went through Gavin at the shards of ice he observed for the first time up close in Nines’ irises.

“If I tell you, will you promise to stop asking pointless questions?”

Gavin nodded earnestly, and frankly… rather foolishly.

“I helped a client gather evidence to initiate divorce proceedings on the grounds of infidelity. I provided ample photo and video evidence for his lawyers to work with. Now they want me to keep following the spouse to capture more details that could gear any future settlement in his favour.”

“So what’s your problem?”

“They’re offering me an incredible amount of cash to follow her 24/7. To stake out her workplace, her gym, her parent’s home. They want me to crouch under the window of the bedroom where her children sleep. I can do a lot of things, but not that. It’s deeply insulting that they even asked. That’s why I was so… pissed.”

Nines slipped past and was nearly back to his bedroom when Gavin spoke.

“I respect that.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I know, but for real though, I think ethics are important in our line of work. Not just because of we need morals or a sense of right or wrong blablabla, but because we need… clarity.”

Silence floated through the hallway as Nines paused with a hand on his doorframe.

“Clarity?”

“Yeah, like a sense of direction. We don’t just take cases right-left-centre because they make us money. I mean, we could, and people do… but they never become specialists or experts of any kind. You gotta strategise if you want a career. Ethics helps with that. I think…”

Gavin wasn’t sure what made him say any of that. He was neither one for small talk, nor a man of many words… but something about Nines prompted that unusual level of introspective discourse.

“Sorry that was weird. Never mind.”

“That was actually… very astute.”

Their eyes met and Gavin could’ve sworn he saw the hint of a smile.

“It’s good to see that not all humans are as one-dimensional as I thought.”

The door clicked shut, but there was no locking sound.

//

Since the morning of Nines’ uncharacteristic outburst, the frequency of their encounters in the common areas of the apartment increased. Wordless nods became hellos, and hellos eventually became full sentences.

Not that he’d admit it, Gavin actually looked forward to enquiring about the android’s day and the cases he was working on. It was utterly fascinating to hear about legal investigations without the constraints of police procedure.

For his part, Nines would share as much as he had the patience to, before disappearing into the confines of his room. Though the time he spent outside steadily increased every day.

Another morning, while Gavin was making his coffee, Nines emerged from his room, still in his pyjamas and looking as livid as he had the time before. Gavin had never seen him in anything but crisply ironed businesswear. Before he could voice any concern, Nines stiffly asked Gavin to keep a lookout for a homicide suspect.

He nodded and immediately reached for his phone to text the sergeant on duty at his station. By midday, there was an arrest.

That evening, when Gavin settled in front of the TV with his usual glass of wine, he heard the familiar sound of Nines’ door opening. The couch dipped beside him.

“Thank you.”

“Just did my job. I should thank you for the tip.”

“Hmm.”

Gavin chanced a glance at his roommate, and found him looking right back.

“What?”

“Nothing… I just had the realisation that much of my work is impotent without the authority and means to take any kind of action.”

The sitcom began to play and Gavin thumbed the remote to reduce the volume.

“Takes all kinds to keep the streets clean. PIs can do things cops can’t. We rely on guys like you for intel all the time, you know.”

“I know.”

No words were exchanged for a while thereafter. Gavin found himself unable to focus on the TV show with all the brooding energy emanating from his right.

“If you feel like being a private eye doesn’t make enough of a difference, then why didn’t you… um… you know…”

“Join law enforcement?”

“Yup.”

“Plenty of my fellow androids have done so. I know for a fact that my predecessor model chose to remain there. You might know him.”

“Connor? Yes. Very annoying.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Totally. But why didn’t you join too? You’d be brilliant on the Force.”

“My skillset is certainly well-suited, but I didn’t want to become another puppet of the state.”

Gavin really didn’t know what to say to that. He nodded uncertainly and looked back at the television. He wasn’t sure why Nines was suddenly this social.

“What are you… watching?”

Androids could scan and detect just about anything in the world, so there had to be something else to the question. Gavin, strangely, was happy to oblige.

//

Nines made an appearance every evening, without fail. He would sit through the TV shows if they were of interest, or he would bring his case material and notes to the coffee table to work in silence beside Gavin.

Sometimes Gavin liked to work on jigsaw puzzles on the dining table. Nines would sit beside him, pretending to read a paperback novel, but actually scanning the puzzle and passing the right pieces over from time to time.

Against all odds, an evening ritual and a tentative friendship developed. It was simple, but it was warm. Comfortable. Like nothing Gavin had ever had before, even with humans.

//

He awoke one morning with a slight crick in his neck but the feeling of being very well-rested.

His eyes flickered open and fell upon the window. Familiar greenery came into view… but wait… had everything slightly shifted to the left? And was that the New Jericho Capitol building? He couldn’t see that from his room! There was a tree in the way! A tree that was now a few feet away from where it used to be.

Gavin sat up in alarm as he realised that he was not in his own bed. His heart flew into his throat as Nines walked through the open doorway. Shirtless and carrying a mug of blue liquid.

“Oh good, you’re up.”

“Wha-what happened!?”

Nines frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed. He set the mug on the floor and pulled on a plain black t-shirt.

“You passed out on the couch last night. I think you finished a whole bottle waiting up for me? Sorry, I was out working later than expected.”

Gavin looked down and sighed in relief as he found all his clothes still on him.

“I didn’t want you to injure yourself sleeping at an odd angle so I brought you here. Your door was locked.”

“You could’ve easily opened it.”

“Yes, but that would’ve been an invasion of privacy. I reserve that for working hours alone.”

Gavin looked deep into the sparkling blue eyes and as usual found no trace of humour.

“Thanks…”

“Don’t mention it. Now get out. You’re ruining my silk sheets.”

//

Against his best efforts, Gavin could not keep the thought of being carried to bed and tucked in safely out of his mind. How many years had it been? Since something like that had been even remotely possible for him?

He knew that Nines was just being kind in his own pragmatic little way… but Gavin found that he wouldn’t mind the prospect of waking up in the android’s bed in a wildly different context.

He realised he had it bad when Tina caught him smiling to himself at work one day.

“Why so happy?”

“Oh… nothing. Just remembered something my roommate did… He’s a… funny guy.”

“Huh. Well, look at you getting along so well with androids.”

“Android. Singular. Just him.”

“Wowwww… he sounds special.”

//

“Who did this?”

“Gavin, the damage is merely superficial-”

“Who phcking did this??!”

He reached forward and gingerly touched Nines’ split cheek. His synth skin was smeared with blue blood and glitching in and out. Nines winced at the contact.

“Shit, sorry. That must hurt like a bitch.”

“Androids do not feel pain.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m merely experiencing a surge in sensory input wherever my chassis is exposed. I’m fine.”

“Shut up and give me your first aid kit or whatever toolbox equivalent you tincans have.”

A shade of embarrassment appeared over the android’s features.

“I… actually don’t have one. I didn’t think I’d ever need it.”

“Didn’t think anyone could kick your ass, huh?”

“No… I didn’t think anyone would ever spot my hiding place.”

“Huh. How’d that happen?”

Nines’ eyes dipped, but as always, he answered the question.

“I was… distracted.”

Something in the air solidified and both of them felt it. Gavin cleared his throat and slapped his knees like an old man about to stand up.

“Right. Let me go check if the neighbours have anything that might help with your face.”

//

“So who’s this dapper young gent you’ve brought to the party, Gavin?”

“Er… he’s my uh… roommate.”

Captain Fowler nodded and winked.

“That’s what they called it in my day too.”

Nines shifted beside Gavin and cleared his throat.

“He’s a PI. But I think he’s wasting his talent taking pictures of cheating spouses. He’s quite interested in police work. Maybe we could get him to assist on a couple cases now and then?”

Fowler put down his drink and extended a warm hand to Nines.

//

“Oh thank RA9!”

Nines came running to the cluster of police cars and enveloped him in a giant hug. Gavin laughed as he patted him weakly on the back.

“Watch the ribs, big guy.”

“I was so worried.”

“Why? Your info was good. No chance of error.”

“I meant about you.”

Gavin pulled back and regarded Nines with confusion. The flashing red and blue lights of the cars made it hard to read his LED.

“Why?”

“I can’t believe you have to ask.”

The android pulled him into a bruising kiss. The officers standing nearby broke into wolf-whistles and applause.

“What the-”

“Oh I take full credit for that, sir.”

Fowler glanced at Tina.

“The case, Chen?”

“Oh of course. I solved the whole thing. But I mean that specifically.”

She waved a hand in Gavin and Nines’ direction. The two held each other tightly and seemed unlikely to come up for air anytime soon.

“Like I helped Gav find an affordable place in New Jericho and then he met this handsome investigator droid and they were roommates.”

“Oh my god, they were roommates…”

“Yeah legit.”

//

\\\

Thanks so much for the request @jude-shotto

This ended up being a lot longer than expected, but I couldn’t help it. Your prompt just took me on a whole journeyyyy <3

[thekisforkeats]

Love Languages

Info: The Magnus Archives, JonMartin, rated T probably for swears. Canon-Compliant. Set post-MAG 22, with a coda post-MAG 159. Everyone is ND and everyone is trans because that’s just how my personal S1 Archives gang rolls.

CWs: Mentions of ableism and Martin’s mother. I’d say canon-typical worms but the worms don’t really come up except in passing.

I do not know anything about BSL, so I did not try to describe the signs.

Summary: A love language is not just about how you best show love and affection; it is also about the ways you best receive love and affection. And so, for someone like Martin, who shows love by going out of his way to help others, someone going out of their way to help him, well. What better way for him to realize just how loved he is?

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

The first time Martin went completely non-verbal after starting work in the Archives, it was the morning after giving Jon the statement about Jane Prentiss.

It wasn’t a surprising development, really. Martin didn’t go fully non-verbal that often, but when he did it was almost always a thing that started in the morning and lasted most of the day. Sometimes it wore off by the time he went to bed, sometimes it lasted until the next morning.

After his mother’s diagnosis, he’d been unable to speak for an entire week. That hadn’t gone over well--as much as his mother wanted him to be quiet, she didn’t like the “silent treatment,” as she called it.

Martin hated that she’d called it that, as though his non-verbal episodes were anything he did on purpose. Some days talking just felt like a chore; those days he could get by only forcing words out when he had to. But some days, the worst days, he just couldn’t talk. He could understand other people just fine, he could make noises, sometimes he could even hum. And he could definitely read and write. But speaking words, aloud? No. He could not speak, on these days, however much he may have wanted to.

As Martin grew older and learned more about himself, he learned words and reasons and coping mechanisms. He realized that some of the problem came from dysphoria and the longer he was on hormones the less often it happened. He realized that he was autistic (even if he never got diagnosed), and learned how to handle the episodes that still occurred. He took sign languages classes because it was a good and useful thing to know regardless, to be able to communicate with more people.

As many Deaf people had learned before Martin, he’d found himself in plenty of situations when nobody around him knew BSL, so he’d found a phone app that let him type out things he wanted to say and repeated them in a tinny, mechanical voice. Feminine, but he found it didn’t cause dysphoria; it wasn’t his voice. It was the app speaking for him, a robot lady translating his words.

Martin was fairly certain he was going to need the robot lady to speak for him today, and he was dreading the whole idea. The app got him a range of reactions from scorn to derision to faux sympathy. The last time he’d done so at work, the Institute library staff had regarded him with such pity that he’d called in sick the two other times it had happened since.

He’d woken early, because he was always awake fairly early, to ensure he looked presentable and got to work on time. He did not want Jonathan “Crisply Professional At All Times” Sims giving him that look again. The particular look that was “I highly disapprove of your sartorial choices but I’m not going to get into it right now because I have so very much else to do. Nonetheless, if I could fire you for what you’re wearing I would.”

Jon had a lot of looks. Martin fervently wished he could stop categorizing them; he very much disliked his boss, and very much wanted to stop thinking about Jon quite as much as he did.

Jon was attractive, that much Martin had noticed the first day he’d come in, with a jawline Martin would’ve loved to trace with his fingers, eyes sharp and deep and intelligent, salt-and-pepper hair that Martin would have tangled his fingers in gladly.

Except, of course, that Jon was also a prick who didn’t like Martin one bit and made that very clear. He’d put down on record that he thought Martin would “contribute nothing but delays.” Martin was not such a sucker for punishment that he would put up with someone who hated him just for a pretty face. The tiny potential blossom of a crush had been, well, crushed five seconds after it had poked its head above ground, by Jon’s declaration that he could dismiss Martin if he didn’t resolve the “dog situation” immediately.

Martin counted his lucky stars every day that Jon had not, in fact, dismissed him, despite having had to deal with a doggy mess. The luck was really in having Tim around, Martin figured; Jon actually seemed fond of Tim, and the other man had managed to smooth the entire situation over.

Martin had fallen asleep last night thinking about the new look Jon had given him yesterday: concerned. Truly, genuinely concerned, which had rather taken Martin aback. He’d been certain Jon wouldn’t believe him, would scoff and roll his eyes at the entire statement, and instead he’d just looked… concerned. 

And then Jon had offered Martin the cot that he’d woken up in this morning.

It wasn’t the look of concern that had Martin non-verbal, though; of that he was certain. It was the stress of the last two weeks, and dumping out the statement yesterday, and all the whirl of figuring out how to live in the Archives. Jon’s insistence on going with him to pick up basics with a toothbrush at the convenience store, and then coming back to be sure he was okay. Jon finding clean sheets and discussing how he’d do his laundry. Jon had expensed clothing bought online to the Institute, including next-day shipping, because he’d “lost access to his flat and thus his wardrobe in the line of duty.” It had all been bewildering and overwhelming and it was no real surprise that Martin was in the state he found himself when he woke.

Martin had known as soon as he’d opened his eyes. It was just there, the feeling of nope can’t talk today. He’d pulled on his binder and the same clothing he’d worn the day before and then fumbled around for his phone. Which… he didn’t have. The damn worm-hive-lady had stolen it from him. Well, shit.

He managed to avoid having to figure out how to talk while he went out to get breakfast, just pointing at a scone in the display and smiling at the guy behind the counter as if he wasn’t secretly irritated by the price of everything in Chelsea. By the time Martin got back, Jon was already in his office, so thank God he’d avoided that awkward interaction. He went to make himself tea, and had his breakfast in the breakroom, and brushed his teeth, and then went to get started on…

Wait. He didn’t even know what they were working on right now.

Well, he wasn’t going to bother Jon about it; however nice he’d been last night it surely must have worn off by now, and Martin had no interest in summoning one of his boss’ looks this early in the morning. Normally he’d still be on his commute at this hour.

After a moment’s thought, he went to go see what they’d recorded in his absence, and soon had a stack of statements on his desk. They’d gotten through five statements in the two weeks he’d been gone. Maybe Jon was right. Maybe Martin did contribute “nothing but delays.”

Pushing the thought aside, Martin focused on listening to the tapes, and was just finishing up listening to the second half of Father Edwin Burroughs’ statement when Tim came into the shared office the assistants used.

“Hey, you’re in early. You get the email?”

Martin raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

Tim snorted. “Jon claims he’s got something to warn us about, something that ‘won’t parse properly through digital means.’” He rolled his eyes. “Which is Jon-speak for ‘it’s a weird thing and I don’t want to admit it’s a weird thing because I have to keep my skeptic hat on to preserve my self-image.”

Martin chuckled in solidarity, then gestured toward the door to Jon’s office, to indicate that’s where their boss was.

“Not coming?” Tim asked, his own eyebrow raised. When Martin shrugged, he said, “Well, I guess if you didn’t get the email…” Tim also shrugged, then said, “Guess I’d better get it over with. Wish me luck!”

Martin gave him a thumbs up.

When Sasha came in, Martin silently directed her to Jon’s office as well, then heaved a sigh of relief. He hadn’t had to explain being non-verbal at all yet, and it was already nine o’clock. Maybe if he was lucky, Jon would warn them off talking to him and he’d manage to make it the entire day without having to explain the whole “non-verbal” business to anyone he saw on a regular basis.

Alas, it was barely thirty minutes later that Tim and Sasha returned to talk to him, both wearing expressions of mingled concern and guilt. When they spoke it was a flood of the usual, expected platitudes:

“We’re so sorry!”

“We didn’t know!”

“Are you okay??”

And such like.

Martin shrugged and nodded and shook his head in all the right places, and evidently Jon had played them the tape of his statement so he didn’t have to explain it all again (thank God), and he thought maybe, maybe he could even figure out what statement they were working on right now if he just listened to their chatter after they were done with the niceties, but then…

Well. Then Timothy Stoker happened.

Which is to say, Tim actually looked at Martin, and said, “You’re being awfully quiet. You sure you’re okay?”

And then he and Sasha just… sat there, looking at him expectantly.

Martin sighed and reached for a piece of scrap paper and wrote, I’m autistic and sometimes I go non-verbal. Today’s one of those days, but I don’t have my phone anymore, so no communication app.

As he held up the paper so the others could read the words, Martin braced himself for the ensuing reactions. Pity, probably, like those in the Institute library, and he couldn’t even call in sick to avoid it; he’d rather have scorn and derision. At least those reactions were honest.

What he got from them was not pity, however, nor even scorn.

Sasha hummed. “Autism explains a lot, actually. Don’t worry, it’s not a problem.”

Tim grinned and clapped Martin on the shoulder. “Yeah, why didn’t you just say so? It’s fine, you’ve been through an ordeal. And so you know--you’re hardly the only neurodivergent in the Archives.”

Martin blinked at Tim, then wrote: Wait, what? Who…?

“Would you believe me if I said all of us?” Tim said with a grin. “I have ADD, Jon’s… well… he’s Jon, and as for Sasha…”

Sasha sighed in fond exasperation and cut in, “Tim…”

“I contend that you cannot be neurotypical, Ms. James. You fit in too well around here.”

“I am not admitting to anything on Institute property,” Sasha said with aplomb. “And you shouldn't have either, but here we are.” She looked at Martin. “If HR finds out and they give you any trouble, let us know and we’ll figure out what to do.”

Tim, in the meanwhile, pulled out his phone. “Here, go ahead and use mine for now, until your replacement gets here or whatever. What’s the app so I can install it for you?”

Martin’s jaw had dropped open. Tim having ADD made sense; what did he mean about Jon, though? And Sasha? And what did Sasha mean about HR? And… and why were they being so… nice? So… understanding? It wasn’t an act, or at least he didn’t think it was. They seemed… genuinely fine with it. Accepting, even.

It was the strangest thing Martin had experienced in a while, and that was including the worm-riddled woman who’d stood outside his door for two straight weeks.

From there the day just… went on as normal. Tim installed the app on the phone, Martin’s robot phone lady spoke for him, the three of them did their work, and everything was fine.

Until, of course, the nature of their work reared its ugly head. They were discussing the statement of Leanne Denikin, case #0051701, which they had yet to attach a pithy name to; hence the discussion. It had long since become standard practice to attach a name to the “weirder” statements, to make them easier to discuss. (Jon insisted on using the case numbers on tape still, which was annoying, given that was the only place he did that.)

Martin was reading through the statement, and he typed into Tim’s phone: What do you think of this bit? “Be still, for there is strange music.”

What came out of the phone’s speakers, however, was garbled static followed by high-pitched screeching that startled Martin so much he actually dropped the phone.

Jon was walking in just as this happened; he stopped in the doorway, blinking. “What on Earth was that?”

“Martin’s robot lady gave Tim’s phone an aneurysm, I think,” Sasha said, eyeing Martin as well.

Martin scrabbled on the floor for the phone, pulled up the app (which had crashed), and typed, I don’t know what happened!! I was just typing in something from one of the statements!

Jon frowned at him sharply. “What are you doing with Tim’s phone? Are you quite well?”

“No, Martin is not ‘quite well,’” Tim said. “Non-verbal for the day.”

Then Jon did something that stunned Martin: Jon signed at him, specifically, “Do you know sign language?” He spoke aloud as he said this, too, but also raised his eyebrows and gave a quizzical tilt to his head to convey that he was asking a question.

Martin blinked rapidly, then signed back: “Yes, actually. But Tim and Sasha don’t.”

Jon nodded, then said aloud, along with signing, “Why are you non-verbal, exactly?”

“I have autism,” Martin signed. “Sometimes talking is overwhelming and sometimes, especially in stressful situations, I can’t talk at all. Woke up that way today. It should be gone by tomorrow morning.” Why was he explaining so much more to Jon than he had to the others? Maybe just because Jon knew sign, and thus could communicate in a language Martin found much easier than even the typing.

Jon frowned thoughtfully, then nodded again. Then, still speaking and signing both, “What were you typing into your phone?”

“Be still, for there is strange music. From the statement.” Martin gestured to the statement on his desk.

Jon’s frown deepened and he repeated the words. “‘Be still, for there is strange music….’” His expression went slack for a moment, and then he shook himself. “Right. Well. Just… just… I’ll be right back.” Then he abruptly turned and left the room.

Tim and Sasha exchanged bewildered looks. Then Sasha asked, “Do you know what that was all about?”

“I forgot Jon knows BSL,” Tim replied thoughtfully. “Hard of hearing on one side. Not that he’d have agreed to interpret all day or anything.”

Martin shrugged. It’s alright, he typed. This works just fine.

“Well, no, obviously not for some things.” Jon had reappeared as suddenly as he’d disappeared, holding a small brown notebook the size of Martin’s hand. “Here,” he said, thrusting the notebook at Martin. “This will work better, for communicating about the statements. You needn’t use it with me, of course, unless signing is also taxing.”

Martin stared up at Jon. There was an entirely new look on his boss’ face. Not any level of scorn or sneer, nor even concern. He was… nervous. Fidgety. Like he was offering a gift that he was afraid might be rejected.

Something went flip in Martin’s stomach and it was like the entire world turned upside down. Suddenly, in light of Jon’s actions in the last 24 hours, he saw the way his boss had acted toward him the last six months for what it was: a defense mechanism. Armor pulled up around someone fragile and soft and sweet, someone so terrified of rejection that he went about making sure it happened preemptively so he wouldn’t be hurt.

Martin had a sudden, fierce desire to hug Jon and tell him everything would be okay. It was so bewildering a sensation--he didn’t even like the man! At all!--that he just took the notebook with a nod and a signed “Thank you,” eyes still very wide.

Jon nodded in return. “You’re welcome.” He let out a breath, and seemed to relax a little. “Well. Then. I think we’ve found the name for this one, given the way Tim’s phone reacted to those words. ‘Strange Music’ it is.” He straightened himself. “Tim, you said something about the organ reminding you of articles you’ve read…?”

Tim nodded, expression suddenly serious. “Yeah. I’ll see if I can find them for you.”

“Right. Well, then, Sasha, if I could ask you to look through the Archive like we talked about? I’m certain we’ve had a statement from Jane Prentiss.” Jon then turned to Martin. “And if you wouldn’t mind helping me with ‘Schwarzwald?’ You used to work in the library, right?”

Martin was still staring at Jon in confusion, but nodded.

Jon actually smiled at him. Faintly. “Well, then, I’m certain you must know where to find the German history reference books, if you could go grab whatever they’ll let you bring down?”

The strangest thing about it was, Jon seemed sincere. Like he actually believed Martin did, indeed, know the library well enough to just… go up there and find the German history reference books. The faint, confident-in-his-assistant smile was a new look, at least directed at Martin; he’d seen Jon look at Tim and Sasha that way many times before.

Martin’s stomach was doing cartwheels. There were butterflies taking up residence in his intestines. His heart was pounding. How had he never noticed how nice Jon’s smile was? Soft and small, like he was afraid to let it actually take up residence on his face for too long.

Oh, God, oh, no. Martin could not fancy his boss. Jon hated him. Or, well, no, evidence suggested that perhaps Jon did not hate him, but Jon most certainly did not fancy him. This crush had to disappear, just as fast as it had come. This would not do.

He was going to be writing poetry again tonight, wasn’t he? Crap.

“Martin?” Jon’s tone was concerned rather than sharp, and the way Jon said his name made Martin want to sink into the floor.

Instead, he scribbled furiously in the notebook and held it up so all three of the others could see: Yeah, sorry, was just thinking about where that’d be. I’ll bring them down as soon as I find them.

Jon practically beamed at Martin’s use of the notebook and he nodded briskly. “Right! I’ll be in my office when you have the books, then.” He started to turn away.

Martin’s heart went pound pound pound because oh wow Jon was really cute when he let that smile take up more of his face. Throwing caution to the wind, he made a noise to get the other man’s attention.

Jon turned around, quirking a brow. “Yes, Martin?”

Martin signed, “Tea?” He, too, raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to indicate the question.

Jon nodded. “Tea would be lovely, yes.” He smiled at Martin for a brief moment, and then suddenly looked flustered. He glared at them all. “Anyway,” he snapped in his ‘boss’ voice, the impact of which was ruined by the flush rising in his cheeks, “there’s still work to be done. So let’s… do it.” And with that, he turned on his heel and left the office.

Had Jon blushed because Martin had offered him tea? Did Jon like his tea that much? Was Martin imagining things? He had to be imagining things. He put his head down on the desk and wrapped his arms over it so he could grab at handfuls of hair. What was happening to him?

Sasha tried to make her voice serious, but couldn't quite manage it past quite clearly holding back giggles. “Mourn for poor Martin, working alone with Jon.” She looked at Tim. “We should call HR preemptively, it’ll be a bloodbath.”

“Nah, I think Jon’s softening on our boy,” Tim said with a laugh. He reached over to ruffle Martin’s hair with one hand while he took his phone back with the other. “Don’t worry, Marto. I told you he’d come around one day.”

Martin looked up at Tim with a stricken, betrayed expression. In the notebook: Is this how you comfort me in my hour of need??

Sasha shook her head. “For once, Tim’s being serious. You weren’t in the room when Jon explained things to us. He’s worried about you, he doesn’t want you to have to leave the Institute alone, he doesn’t want you to have to look for the Prentiss statement in case it’s ‘too traumatic’ for you to run across on your own. He actually asked us if we thought we should avoid any mention of Prentiss altogether in your presence.”

“I told him no,” Tim said. “I hope that was okay. You seem like you’d rather deal with trauma by facing it and figuring it out, rather than avoiding it entirely.”

Matin gaped at them. Really? he wrote. Jon’s… worried about me? Really? As if he hadn’t seen the evidence just now that Jon was, indeed… softening.

Tim gave Martin a very serious look. “I’ve told you before… I’ve known Jon, well, not as long as I’ve known Sasha, but for a long while now. He’s prickly and thorny, even to people he cares about, but that’s a front and I’ve said so. You just didn’t believe me.”

“In Martin’s defense,” Sasha put in, “Jon’s been awfully ‘prickly and thorny’ to him specifically.”

Tim put up a hand. “Oh, I agree. I have had words with our dear boss about the way he treats Martin, largely because I’m one of the few people he might actually listen to.” He looked at Martin. “I don’t want to take the credit, because it’s really been a remarkably fast turnaround, but I’d like to think I helped, a little.”

Martin frowned thoughtfully. Thank you, he wrote. If Jon’s at ‘I can stand Martin’ instead of ‘Martin is the source of all bad that happens in the Archives’ work might be… better than tolerable, for once.

“That’s the spirit!” Tim said with a grin. “Now, then, Jon did say to get back to work…”

Jon gave Martin another of those soft smiles when Martin brought in the tea, a smile which widened on seeing the stack of books he carried in right after. That afternoon, spent sitting and going through books and discussing the Schwarzwald statement, was the first of many they’d spend together, reading and talking and comparing notes.

Martin was feeling verbal again the next morning, but he kept the notebook. If nothing else, it was a good place to jot down poetry. And it came in handy when he found himself unable to speak the morning after Jane Prentiss’ attack on the Archives.

And the morning after Jon confronted him about his CV.

And the morning after Jon disappeared, leaving Jurgen Leitner’s body at his desk. (Martin blamed that on the corridors more than the body, really.)

Funnily enough, he didn’t need it the morning after the Unknowing. But he kept it with him that day all the same, the first gift Jon had ever given him, and one of the few things he had left of him with Jon in a coma.

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

When they reached Daisy’s safehouse in Scotland, Martin had hoped he’d somehow manage to dodge the threat of going non-verbal. He’d been the one to drive the car, over Jon’s protests; it was something to focus on, to keep him remembering he was alive and real. He’d clutched the wheel and driven north north north with Jon giving directions in the passenger seat.

Martin had finally figured out that it was the chance to stop and think about trauma that led to his being non-verbal, which was why it was almost always a thing that hit in the morning. Adrenaline would keep him running after a stressful event, and then he’d carry himself through the rest of the day trying to clean up whatever mess had been caused. But sleep was enough for his body and brain to both tell him to stop, to process, to deal with whatever he’d run into.

It was possible, in hindsight, that he’d gone non-verbal more than once since the Unknowing and just hadn’t noticed because he’d been barely interacting with anyone. He’d certainly had a bad bout the morning after his mother’s funeral, dealing with so much misgendering and fake smiles. And there had been more than enough trauma to try to process in the past year, so it must have happened before.

He’d just really, really hoped it wouldn’t now, because he didn’t want to put Jon through that. (Why he thought he was putting Jon through anything he didn’t really want to examine. It made him feel Lonely, and that was bad.)

At any rate, the realization of why he went non-verbal had led to him keeping busy in order to hold it off, in order to hold himself together. So he drove, and he puttered about the cabin poking into cupboards, and he talked to Jon, and he talked to the shop lady in the village, and he brought back food and made dinner with Jon, and everything was good and fine.

And then he woke up the next morning, in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room, and he could not speak.

There was the smell of bacon and eggs and pancakes cooking, and Martin made his bleary way out into the main room of the cabin and peered at Jon, already up and dressed and cooking.

His boyfriend turned to look at him and smiled, one of those soft smiles Martin had come to love so much. “Sleep well?”

"Not really,” Martin signed. “I mean…” He gestured at his throat.

Jon nodded. “I figured you might feel that way this morning. I, uhh… hold on a moment, I need to….” He grabbed the pan of bacon and moved it off the heat, pulled a pancake off the griddle and deposited it on a plate, then turned off the stove and went to poke around in one of the bags.

Martin chuckled fondly. “What’re you looking for?”

Jon was still digging through his bag. “When I was grabbing essentials at the store, back in London, I was thinking, you’ve been through a lot, and the notebook I gave you before must be full if you even have it anymore. I know you were writing poetry in it, and… oh, here we go.”

Jon came up with another small notebook. This one was not plain and brown, the way the first one he’d gifted Martin all those years ago had been. This one was black, and had silvery stars on its cover that, as Jon held out the book and thus tilted it through the light, shimmered into rainbows.

“Just in case, you know, the shop lady doesn’t know BSL.”

Martin blinked at the notebook.

“It, uhh… I know it’s not your usual style,” Jon said, his voice suddenly nervous. He was looking down at the notebook as he spoke, instead of at Martin. “Not… retro. But… I saw it and I thought of you.” He paused. “That tape, where you were talking to Simon Fairchild. He talked about the ‘cosmic scale,’ and how we’ve never even been alive on that time frame, and you said… what was it? You said, ‘I think our experience of the universe has value. Even if it disappears forever.’ And I just… that was… maybe the most… it was very… you. And there were other options, flowers or cursive writing, o-or… I don’t know, they all seemed so obvious, but this…”

Jon swallowed, and finally looked up at Martin. “I thought, after the Lonely, you might like a reminder that, you have value. That… that to me, you shine as bright as any star.” And then he flushed, and Martin knew it was for him, just as he now knew the flushes about tea all those years ago had also been for him.

Martin was gaping. Oh. Oh. Jon… loved him. Which he’d known, intellectually, but the emotional knowledge of it hit him suddenly, took his breath away. He knew it, all at once, in that “oh we could spend the rest of our lives together” way he’d never really thought he’d ever feel.

Jon had clearly misinterpreted the expression; he started stammering, “I-if… it it’s bad, I can… well, no, I can’t take it back, stupid, I should’ve just grabbed the one that had--”

Martin cut him off by reaching out to take the notebook from Jon and reached out with his other hand to cup the shorter man’s cheek. He smiled, and because he’d realized long ago how well Jon responded to physical touch, he leaned in to plant a soft kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead.

Then he pulled back to put the notebook aside on the counter and signed, “It’s perfect. Thank you.” A pause, and then, “I love you.”

Jon smiled, both speaking and signing, “I love you, too.”

And for once in his life, Martin knew that to be true, and trusted that knowledge. He was loved. He had been loved, and he would be loved for the rest of his life, whatever state his voice was in.

[featherymalignancy]

How About a Hug, Hm? REMIX

So a few days ago I got this ask about my Elriel one-shot “How About A Hug?” because I messed up the formatting and I you basically have to to read it as a reblog. I also was really unsatisfied with the end result.

So, I did the most Feathery™️ thing every and REWROTE THE WHOLE GODDAMN THING.

Please enjoy, and know that I will go back and tag people/clean up formatting tomorrow. Right now I just need to post and 😴

——————————————————

Elain Archeron was running late.

Granted, it was only by seven minutes, which—in many social circles—was still considered well within the accepted boundaries of punctuality.

The problem was that a) being late made Elain anxious, and b) there was absolutely nothing polite about Nesta Archeron when she was made to wait, even by her own kin.

Yet another reason it had been critical that Elain arrive on time: Nesta was already likely to be somewhat hacked off when she saw what Elain was wearing tonight, and Elain had hoped to avoid any further dramatics on her elder sister’s part.

She spent half the cab ride downtown trying to convince herself that it was fine that she’d borrowed something out of Nesta’s closet (even if it had been without permission) and that she hadn’t had a choice; she simply didn’t own anything appropriate for dinner at a four-star restaurant. However, by the time the cab slithered under Trump Tower’s unsavory shadow and into Hell’s Kitchen, she’d given up pretending.

The truth was she had half a dozen cocktail dresses that would have been perfectly suitable for dinner in the West Village, even if the place they were going was one of the nicest sushi restaurants in the city. No, Elain had raided Nesta’s closet for a far more embarrassing reason: she’d been in search of a dress she hoped might finally win her Azriel’s attention.

She wasn’t proud of the absurd crush she had on the guy, but it really couldn’t be helped. He was gorgeous, and smart, and darkly funny when he wanted to be, and she’d been secretly mooning over him since they’d met through Feyre’s fiancée three years ago. God, what she wouldn’t give to have him return even a fraction of her feelings.

Apparently not her dignity, Elain thought with a glance down at her neckline.

The worst part was that Azriel seemed oblivious to her interest in him. He was always polite to her, always made a point to talk to her when he caught her hiding out on the balcony during one of Feyre and Rhys’s crazy parties or sit next to her at their big family dinners, but he’d never once given her any indication that he was in any way that he reciprocated her feelings, which should have been reason enough for Elain to pack it in and stop harassing him.

And that was to say nothing of Mor.

Mor was the friend who’d first introduced Feyre and Rhys, and from what Elain could gather, she and Azriel had a long and complicated history. It didn’t seem to matter that Mor had been dating the same girl for over a year now. When she was in the room, Az’s eyes were always on her. Not that Elain blamed him—Mor was gorgeous in a way girls like her could only dream of being. Still, there was no denying the sting of watching the guy you were interested in pine over someone else.

Given all this, Elain wasn’t really sure why she’d gone to such lengths to dress up for this dinner. Mor would surely be there wearing something incredible and couture, thereby rendering everyone else invisible to Azriel. Still, Elain was a hopeless optimist, and she’d stubbornly sold herself on the idea that if she found the perfect dress, she could finally convince Azriel that she was a woman worthy of affection, rather than Nesta’s bookish, boring little sister.

She had to admit, there was nothing bookish about her tonight. The dress was tighter on her that it was her waifish sister, and dear god it deserved a Medal of Honor for the way it managed to keep her boobs looking so perky even without a bra. She didn’t suppose Nesta would be too happy about that bit, either, so she could only hope her sister was in a good mood by the time Elain arrived.

Just then Elain’s phone buzzed, and she looked down at it and groaned. It was from Nesta.

Where the 🤬 are you?

Running late, Elain quickly typed back. Is everyone waiting?

She watched the gray ellipsis pulse at Nesta responded.

Feyre and Rhys aren’t even fucking here yet. But hurry up, Cash is already driving me insane.

Elain rolled her eyes. She wasn’t sure who Nesta thought she was fooling when she and Elain shared a bedroom wall. Nesta and Cassian, Rhys’s other best friend, ended up banging almost every time they saw each other, which—since Rhys and Feyre had gotten engaged four months ago—was fairly frequently. In fact, Cash was at their apartment making Nesta scream so often that Elain had been forced to invest in earplugs and a sound machine. From Elain’s perspective, it seemed rather pointless of Nesta to pretend she wasn’t completely hot of a guy she called “Daddy” in bed.

Elain shuddered at the thought, hoping that Nesta would end up going to Cash and Az’s loft in Williamsburg tonight instead. Though, she realized glumly, they only ever seemed to go there when Azriel was out, and the only person who seemed able to keep Azriel out later than Cash was Mor. That meant Elain’s options were either to pop an Ambien and hope for the best, or stay out and watch Az make moon eyes at Mor all night. Neither one was particularly appearing.

Elain ignored Nesta’s text as the car pulled up outside the restaurant and she wiggled out, smoothing the back of her tight dress before giving her curls what she hoped was an artful tousle before slipping inside.

Elain’s heart felt into her stomach as she took in the elegant but understated interior of the famed Sushi Nakazawa. Given the prices, she’d assumed the place would be all black granite and swanky chandeliers—the kind of place cleavage like hers wouldn’t seem out of place. Instead the place was elegantly spare and distressingly well-lit. God, she was such a prize idiot.

Unfortunately, she was also out of time, because a quick survey of the interior found that her group was already gathered at the bar, Mor, Feyre, and Rhys having showed up in the interim between Nesta’s text and Elain’s arrival.

Elain’s eyes went to Mor first, who stunned in a cardinal red lace and net sheath. It clung to her frame like it had been made for her, and despite a latent jealous she couldn’t quite contain, she was relieved to find that she at least wouldn’t look overdressed.

Elain’s stomach only wended in a tighter knot when Mor’s eyes fell on her and lit up, a reminder that not only was Mor prettier, she was also an infinitely better person than Elain.

“There she is!” Mor beamed, coming forward and hugging Elain. “I love that dress, Ellie!”

Elain braced herself for Nesta’s inevitably remark, but it was actually Cash who reacted first.

He’d opened his mouth to comment seemingly before he’d actually looked at Elain, because the second he realized what exactly she was wearing, his eyes they snapped the ceiling, as if looking at her chest directly might turn him to stone.

“Whoa, El, all dressed up tonight!”

Nesta, wholly unmoved by his attempted chivalry, elbowed him in the ribs.

“Don’t be vulgar Cassian!” She snarled before narrowing her eyes. “And that’s mine!”

Cash smirked, seeming more at ease now that Nesta was his target.

“I knew I’d seen that bef—ow! Goddamnit woman, what was that for?”

He scowled down at the dangerous stiletto Nesta had just jammed into his toe box.

“Sorry,” she cast over her shoulder, not deigning to look at him. “Did I accidentally step on your foot?”

“I’m an adult,” Elain interjected, cheeks burning as she faced her sister down. “Stop acting like I’ve fourteen and stuffing my bra.”

“They’re just boobs, Nes,” Rhys added, arm slung over Feyre’s shoulder. “Relax.”

“Watch it,” Nesta warned him, but Feyre only laughed.

“I agree!” She said, turning to smile at Elain. “And I think they look amazing.”

“If I’d have known they were going to be such a topic of conversation,” Elain mumbled, grateful Azriel wasn’t here to witness this circus. “I would have worn something else.”

“No, I’m with Feyre,” Mor said, wicked grin forming. “Breasts that nice deserve to be shown off.”

Elain wasn’t so humble that she didn’t feel herself preening a bit at that comment, even if she was still flustered by the prolonged attention. Either way, she was grateful when Cash interrupted with a somewhat sheepish laugh.

“Teenage me would be furious if he heard me say this, but can we please stop talking about boobs?”

“Elain’s boobs or just any boobs?” Feyre said with a smirk.

However, before Elain could admonish her for it, Feyre was crushing her into a hug.

“Hey you,” she said, wrapping her arms and Elain’s neck and whispering in her ear, “let me and Rhys know if you wanna stay at our place tonight; Cash already grabbed Nesta’s ass twice when she thought we weren’t looking.”

Feyre indicated the mirror behind the bar with her eyes as they pulled away, and sure enough, Elain watched Cash’s hand as it drew lazy, dangerous circles just above the swell of Nesta’s well-formed behind.

Elain groaned, hugging Rhys now as well. God , her sister was such a hypocrite sometimes.

Ignoring a lingering twinge of annoyance, Elain forced herself to glance in false realization before casually asking, “So where’s the Birthday Boy?”

“He was on his phone out back,” Rhys said, before raising a hand in greeting to someone over Elain’s shoulder. “There he is.”

Elain tried not to look to eager as she turned and drank in all six feet four inches of perfection that was Azriel Macar. He was dressed all in black, from his prada boots to the soft, expensive t-shirt fitted enough to show off his toned physique. Elain honestly had to fight not to swoon as he ran an effortless hand through his glossy sable hair, the longer pomaded pieces on top stand up for a second before falling into an artful tousle.

“Hey Ellie,” he said, gaze on her and gone so quickly that he never even had time to notice her much-discussed cleavage. Instead, his eyes flicked to Mor and held for a long, meaningful beat before he turned back to Elain and added politely, “Thanks for coming.”

“Sure,” she chirped, trying to ignore the fact that he was coming closer, and that in another second she’d be able to smell that divine Givenchy cologne he always wore. “Of course!“

She bent her head, pretending to be fixing the clasp on her bracelet as his scent hit her and she had to bite back a groan. Sweet Jesus, he smelled good. When she looked up again, everyone else was shuffling to their table and Azriel was lingering, a soft smile threatening to the reveal the absolutely devastating dimples in both his cheeks.

“Do I get a hug?” He asked. “It is my birthday after all.”

He extended his arms, and she gave a nervous laugh, accepting the gesture by stringing her arms around his neck.

“Of course,” she repeated stupidly, trying to ignore the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he embraced her. “Happy Birthday.”

At this he squeezed her a little tighter and she fought off genuine giddiness.

It was a friendly gesture, she warned herself, and it ended the minute Mor called, “Az, come sit by me.”

Elain cleared her throat as he pulled away, turning to where Mor was still beckoning. However, before Elain could get too flustered, he turned back to her.

“Shall we?” he said, indicating Elain go ahead of him. To her delight, they reached the table to find that the only two seats left were next to each other. She tried not to give her eagerness too much leash as he pulled out her chair for her before sinking into the one between she and Mor. Mor leaned over to give him a soft peck on the cheek, and he flushed.

“Where’s Emmy tonight?” Feyre asked as Mor tried to wipe the lipstick from Az’s copper skin and he battered her away, like child trying to fend off an over-bearing mother.

“She’s sick, poor little thing,” Mor said, giving a tiny pout. “She hasn’t been able to get out of bed in days.”

Elain didn’t bother to her disappointment. Emerie had been one of Nesta’s best since they’d met in college almost ten years ago, and she not only was she like family to the Archerons, she also happened to be the only person in the group who knew about Elain’s crush. Elain had sworn her to secrecy at the time, and though it would have been reasonable to assume that once Emmy knew, Mor would know, Elain appreciated that she could trust Emerie to keep her secret.

Elain felt Emerie’s absence keenly and Nesta and Cash began bantering back and forth at lightning speed. Emerie was a master at slowing the tempo of Nesta’s quick wit, making it easier for Elain in particular to feel she could keep up.

More selfishly, Elain also missed Emerie’s ability to keep Mor distracted. When Emmy was around, she was all Mor could focus on. However, in her absence Mor’s attention had reverted almost completely to Az, a fact he didn’t seemed to mind a single bit, if his growing smiles were any indication.

Still, he seemed to be going out of his way to make sure Elain didn’t get lost in the chaos of conversation surging around them, even if he never looked at her for more than a moment or two before his eyes flicked back to Mor, studying her dark brown eyes and crimson lips.

After they placed their drink orders and the waiter came over to begin explaining the omakase menu, Elain wondered if she had time to dodge under the table to throw on some lipstick of her own. Assuring herself everyone was suitably distracted she bent down, hastily uncapping the tube before looking up just in time to see Nesta brush a very deliberate hand between Cassian’s splayed quads.

Elain jerked back, banging her head on the table.

“Fuck!” she swore quietly, straightening and rubbing her head.

Nesta shot her an alarmed look across the table and Elain flushed.

“All you alright?” Azriel asked, and she tried not to bleat in excited panic as his fingers brushed the back of her head. “What happened?”

“I—dropped something,” she fumbled, cursing her sister for being such a salacious wench.

Wasn’t it enough that she and Cash were already going to keep her up all night? Did she really have to make Elain look silly in front of Azriel, too?

“Does it hurt?” Azriel said, still studying her head before letting his eyes go to the server. “Do you need ice?”

“No, no,” Elain said hurriedly, trying to regain her composure. “I’m fine.”

“Did you at least find whatever you were looking for?” Mor asked, and Elain’s flush deepened.

“And then some,” she grumbled to herself, and Cassian gave a quiet but unmistakable laugh before letting out a surprised exhale. Elain had a fairly good idea what Nesta was squeezing to shut him up.

“Should we order, then?” Mor asked, hand falling onto Azriel’s arm. “Any particular requests, Birthday Boy?”

“He’s thirty now,” Rhys pointed out. “I think that makes him a Birthday Man .”

“Birthday Old Man,” Cassian amended. “Don’t worry champ, I’ve already put some viagra in your bathroom.”

“You’re not supposed to share your prescriptions, Cash,” Azriel said with mirth, eyes sparkling even as his face remained neutral. “And besides, I would feel dead back if you needed one tonight and couldn’t find them.”

“Checkmate,” Mor purred as Cash flipped her off.

Beside Azriel, Elain was fighting not to blush again. Cash’s comment, however sophomoric and lewd, had her imagining what Azriel was like in bed. She wondered for a moment if Mor knew before dismissing the thought and the twinge it induced.

“Let’s put this poor souls out of his misery and order,” Feyre said, smiling at the server where he still waited patiently. “Maybe if Cash’s mouth is full, he’ll stop talking.”

Cassian grinned, and, after placing their requests for the chef’s tasting menu, they all settled into an easy conversation. Cash and Rhys regaled them with stories of Azriel at various ages, from the gawky child he’d been when they’d first met him to the shy teenager who’d been terrified of girls.

“Let him be,” Mor said, touching her friend’s shoulder. “He was sweet in high school!”

Rhys laughed.

“It took him a year to pluck up the courage to say three words to you,” he pointed out.

“And they were ‘here’s a pen’ in response to you asking him the time. Nice work, Shakespeare,” Cash said, attempting to muss Azriel’s perfectly styled hair before being batted away.

“I can’t imagine Az ever being awkward,” Elain blurted. “I bet girls thought he was mysterious and cool.“

“See?” Azriel said, gesturing to Elain. “This is why I sat over here.”

“Oh please ,” Rhys said, bubbling his lips. “Ellie’s just being polite. If you two had known each other in high school, we all know how to would’ve gone: you’d have had an obscene crush on her and your dreams of true love would have been dashed after she politely signed your yearbook ‘have a good summer, Adrian’, leaving you heartbroken and alone.”

Azriel gave Elain a soft smile, and her heart burst open as thousands of butterflies flitted out of it.

“I hate to say it, but he’s probably right,” he told her. “I assume high school Elain was very popular.”

“She was,” Feyre said. “Eight different guys asked her to prom.”

“I’m not surprised,” Az said, and Elain made a great show out of drinking out of her masu to avoid having to answer.

She was relieved when the food began arriving to distract everyone, if only to save her the temptation of telling Azriel that there was no universe in which she wouldn’t have been into him, high schoolers or no.

Instead discussion turned to the Feyre and Rhys’s wedding as they ate, and as final plates were being cleared, Cash took the opportunity to once again mocked Azriel for the fact the latter had lost the rock-paper-scissors competition to be Rhys’s best man.

“I lost on purpose,” he told Elain quietly, taking a sip of the Yamasaki Single Malt he’d ordered after dinner.

“Why?” she laughed, following his gaze across the table to where Cash and Nesta were now bickering about whether Rhys’s stag night in Vegas would be better than Feyre’s hen do in Napa.

“Because Rhys told me that you’d convinced Feyre to pick Nesta as her maid of honor, and no offense, but your sister terrifies me. I’d much rather be with you.”

She laughed, biting her lip. It felt so terribly like they were flirting, but she couldn’t decide if it was her imagination or not.

“She terrifies everyone,” Elain said. “And I have a feeling this won’t our last trip down the aisle together.”

Azriel only quirked a bemused brow at this, which had Elain flushing scarlet.

“Not like that! She laughed, fumbling to pretend the idea of them being together was absurd rather than her heart’s desire. "I meant for Cash and Nesta’s wedding. Don’t tell me those two aren’t going to end up together.”

“We’ll have to work out a custody agreement when they finally get over themselves and start dating properly,” he agreed. “I’m spending a fortune on earplugs.”

She laughed, and he seemed warmed by the gesture, because he flashed a modest—albeit dimpled—smile being turning back to the larger conversation.

After dinner they’d gone a cocktail bar, then an Irish pub, and finally—much to Azriel’s chagrin—a karaoke bar. Rhys and Cash spend the majority of the evening trying to wrestle Azriel on stage while Mor and Feyre sang duets to Beyoncé and Spice Girls.

Elain was content enough to sit back and simply observe the scene as it unfolded around her. It was hard to contain her giddy, dreadful anticipation when Mor left around one to check on Emerie and Azriel—besides bidding her farewell with a soft kiss on the cheek—didn’t move a muscle.

Less than an hour later, Cash and Nesta both disappeared about an hour after without so much as a goodbye. Elain groaned, hoping they’d be asleep by the time she got home.

She’d have to rally if she wanted to manage it; they would be at it for hours yet.

By three the place was clearing out, and besides them, only a few tables of marathon drinkers and a girl on stage performing a beautiful rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide” remained.

“We’re gonna go,” Rhys said, arm slung around a rather drunk, giggling Feyre. “Ellie, do you want to come with us?”

Elain glanced at Azriel, who’s glass still had two fingers of whiskey in it. If she wanted a chance to be alone with him, this was it.

“I think I’ve got one more in me,” she said, smiling.

“If you mean drink, I’m in,” Azriel said.

“Oh c’mon, brother,” Rhys goaded. “Just one song. I wouldn’t even film it….much.”

“Do Beyoncé!” Feyre chimed in, and Azriel shook his head.

“You know I’d play in traffic before I ever sang karaoke,” Azriel said mildly, making Feyre laugh. "Thanks for coming.”

He rose, embracing Rhys and pressing a kiss on Feyre’s head.

“C’mon, my little drunkard,” Rhys told her. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Let’s have sex when we get home,” Feyre said, her attempted whisper fully audible. Rhys pretended smack his forehead with his palm and a mimed, “ Oh brother ”, to Azriel and Elain before coax a still-singing Feyre outside.

Azriel chuckled before draining the last of his drink and rising. Elain pretended not to notice the way his well-tailored jeans fit his lean legs and…other parts of his anatomy as he adjusted his belt buckle and glanced down at her.

“Bud Light?” he asked, and she nodded, bobbing to her feet as well.

If she wanted a way to get closer to him that was more elegant than her increasing urge to crawl across the table and into his lap, this was certainly it.

“I’ll come with you.”

He flashed her a modest smile before indicating she lead the way. He ordered and waved off Elain’s attempt to pay before leaning on the bar to avoid towering over her. The gesture brought them nearly eye-to-eye, and Elain had to actively fight not to let hers roll back in pleasure at the bergamot and amyris wood notes in his sinful cologne. Up close Elain could see how much green he had in his hazel irises, and she wanted to tip into them and swim until she drowned.

“Did you have fun?” she said, desperate to get the conversation flowing again, and he smiled, making her stomach flop.

“I did, yeah,” he said, glancing around the bar in bemusement, as if still wondering how he’d ended up there. “Thank you for coming.”

Elain shrugged, grinning.

“You say that like you didn’t think I’d show,” she said, resting a cheek in her hand. She knew by now her expression was not her less than a swoon, though she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Hadn’t been this been her plan all along? Finally get Az’s attention long enough to tell him how she felt? Now was the best chance she’d probably ever get.

“No, I figured would,” Az said, interrupting her reverie. “Or hoped you would, whatever.”

Was that—

Did that mean what she thought it did?

Normally she would have chalked it up to wishful thinking, but the way he rubbed the back of his neck, dimples appearing as he huffed what almost sound like a sheepish laugh, had hope igniting in her chest.

“What does that mean?” she pressed, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

For the first time all night, he didn’t look away. Instead, his eyes skated back and forth across her face, as if she were a riddle he only had seconds to memorize. She watched, transfixed, as he wet his plush lower lip with his tongue before biting it almost self-consciously.

“It means I’m glad you came,” he admitted. “And that you didn’t go home with your sister and Rhys.”

It wasn’t the confirmation she’d been hoping for, and the ambiguity of the statement had her conviction waning. That could just as easily have been mean platonically, and if she pushed him and ruined things between them by making it awkward—

“Of course I’d be here for your birthday,” she said, giving his shoulder a playful shove. “That’s what friends are for.”

She couldn’t help the way her voice got stuck on the word, not when her throat suddenly began to clog with tears.

She had to get out of here, right now. Before she started crying and made things worse. She made to retract her hand but Azriel grabbed it, grip gentle but intent.

“El, don’t go,” he said, and she was surprised at the frank discontent in his normally-impassive expression.

She waited for him to explain himself before instead he let out another strained laugh, grip on her wrist easing. However, he didn’t let go entirely, choosing to intertwine their fingers instead.

Holding hands.

She and Az were holding hands.

And he—

She glanced back up to find he was studying her again, his face a mixture of terror and delight. When she gave his hand a soft squeeze, he let out the breath he’d been holding.

“Jesus, I am bad at this,” he said, reaching up to tuck a curl behind her ear. She wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it, but she thought his gaze flicked down to her lips as he continued to study her with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Bad at what?” She asked, though she’d begun to suspect she knew exactly what, even if it seemed too good to be true.

“At least my timeline is improving,” he breathed instead. “And I haven’t offered you a pen you didn’t ask for yet.”

Hoping she wasn’t misreading the situation, she let her finger trail down to trace the circular buckle of his Gucci before glancing back up at him and purring, “Do you have a pen?”

He smirked before raising his right wrist and glancing at his watch face over her shoulder.

“It’s….3:17 am,” he said, smile spreading as she gave a low sound of approval and flicked her gaze to his lips.

“Smooth,” she said, and tried not to lose her mind as he let his raised hand fall to the back of her neck and bent to kiss her.

He had almost girlishly full lips, and they opened for her as they settled into the kiss. Immediately his hand tangled in her hair so he could alter her head position slightly and get a proper taste of her. She groaned into his mouth he pulled at her lower lip with his teeth. He tasted like oranges and the expensive Japanese whiskey he’d been drinking all night, and pleasure tightened in her low belly as his tongue brushed hers. Her brought his free hand up to cradle her face, and in response she pushed closer to run her hands underneath of his shirt and down the silken skin of his back.

“Fuck,” he breathed with a heated half-laugh, nose brushing her cheek as he bowed into her touch. “You’re killing me, woman.”

She only smirked, feeling more confident now that she had before. She could hardly believe this was happening, but she was too excited about it to fully care.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said, and he bit his lip, as if restraining himself from kissing her again.

“Like to another bar?” he asked, dazed as he continued to stare at her lips.

“Like to my bed,” she said boldly. “Or yours, depending on where Cassian and Nesta ended up.”

He didn’t speak immediately, just studied her, and she panicked.

“I mean, only if you—I’m sorry, should I not have—?“

He only kissed her again in response, more gently this time.

“Please stop apologizing,” he said, kissing her jaw now before seeming to realize something and pulling back, brows synced.

“I—Jesus, do you seriously not know?”

She felt a bit sheepish at his incredulous tone and fought not to stiffen.

“Know what?”

He laughed softly, though their was a edge of self-deprecation in it that kept the gesture from seeming conscending.

“I really am the worst at this.”

“At what?”

“El, I’ll crazy about you. I have been crazy about you since we met.”

“You have?” she blurted, horror fading into genuine—if elated—confusion.

He laughed.

“Did you think it was coincidence that you and I are always sitting next to each other at dinner? That I always find you at Rhys’s dumb parties?”

“I—“ she began, still trying to decide if this was a dream or not. “What about Mor, though?”

“Mor?” he repeated, confused now, too. “What about her?”

“I thought you and she—“

He leaned in to brush his nose against hers, and she blushed at the innocent affection in the gesture.

“Not at all,” he assured her. “I did have a thing for her in high school, but I got over it after she and Cash slept together at prom. We’re just friends, I swear.”

“But she’s always touching you, and every time I see you together you can’t stop looking at her.”

At this he laughed, his smile so genuine and open she almost didn’t recognize him.

“She’s always been touchy-feely,” he said. “She grew up in Madrid, and people are just more affectionate there, I guess. And I only watch her when you’re around because she called me out for having an absurd crush on you, and I was afraid she was going to get drunk and blow my cover by telling you.”

Elain shook her head, still not quite believing what she was hearing. Reading her expression, he bent to kiss her softly.

“What guy wouldn’t be crazy about you?” he breathed. “You’re incredible.”

This seemed to break the spell, and she twined her fingers in his hair and pulled him down for another steamy kiss.

“Text Cash,” she said a little breathlessly when they broke away. “I don’t want an audience.”

She couldn’t felt but feeling smug when he almost dropped his phone at those words. It felt good to know that she wasn’t the only one affected by all this.

“Cash and Nesta are at the lof—“ Az began after a minute, but Elain cut him off with a kiss.

H rose, pulling her against him as his tongue brushed the roof of her mouth.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he said as she kissed his neck and tugged on his earlobe with her teeth, earning a low groan. “You’ve been drinking.”

She grabbed his chin so he would look at her.

“Not that much,” she said, and it was true. “And besides, I wanted this way before tonight.“

“Good,” he breathed, pressing a hand to her low back to bring her close to him. “Because so have I.”

Though they spent the majority of the ride up town and the elevator up to her apartment making out, something seemed to shift as Elain’s door clicked shut behind him, as if the gravity of what they were about to do had finally caught up to them.

Reluctantly Az peeled his lips from where they’d been glued to her neck as he took a small step back, as if to give her space.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, feeling embarrassed for how much she still wanted him even now that he seemed to have come to his senses.

“Maybe we should—” he broke off, looking somewhat guilty. “Hold off.”

She nodded, trying to keep the tears at bay again.

“Are you worried this could mess things up in the group? Because I understand—“

“No,” he said hurriedly, coming forward again, as if he could no longer stand to be away. “Not at all. I just—you’re special, El. You deserve to be taken out and spoiled.”

“Az, you just took us to a $1,800 dinner! Or did you think I didn’t see you pulling our server aside?”

Azriel opened his mouth, and she covered it with a finger.

“You don’t need to earn my affection. It’s yours already, free of charge.”

“I’ve just been—I waited so long to make my move and I’m terrified of fucking it up,” he said with a soft laugh.

“Why, are you bad at sex?”

Azriel laughed, seemed to relax at her teasing.

“I’ve never had any complaints,” he breathed again her lips, kissing her deeply again.

She gently bit his lower lip in response.

“Then I’d say you’ve gotten nothing to worry about,” she said, kissing him a third time.

She moaned softly when drove his fingers into her hair, hips canting towards her as he pressed her more fully into the door.

She could feel his body’s reaction to her pressing between her thighs, and she moaned again.

“Fuck,” he breathed onto her skin. “You are so gorgeous.”

“So are you,” she said, running her hands up the back of his t-shirt and feeling the mosaic of muscles flexing underneath. “Take this off.”

He laughed and pulled the offending garment over his head, making her groan in delight.

“God, this body ,” she breathed, running a hand down his chest and enjoying his shiver at her delicate touch.

He responded by spinning her away from him and gently dragging down the zipper of her dress until he could slip a hand inside of it.

“I knew you couldn’t have a bra on underneath this thing,” he said, voice a touch smug as he cupped both bare breasts and her breath caught in her throat..

“I’m surprised you even noticed,” she said, voice somewhat. “I wore this dress for you, and you didn’t even look at it once the entire evening.”

She laughed, the sound into a soft moan as he twisted one nipple in experimentation. When she sighed and let her head fall back onto his shoulder.

“Of course I noticed the dress,” he corrected. “You have the most perfect tits I’ve ever seen. I just knew that if I let myself look, I might not be able to stop looking.”

“You shouldn’t say that until you’ve seen them without the sorcery of underwire,” she said.

With that he spun her to face him, catching her gaze to ensure he had her permission before tugging down the top of the dress so her breasts fell free.

“Gorgeous,” he said, easing to his knees so he could replace his fingers with his mouth. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

“If I known this was going to be your reaction, I would have worn a bodycon dress in front of you ages ago,” she said, threading her hands through his hair as he dragged his teeth and tongue along her nipple.

“You don’t need some tight dress to be sexy,” he said, resting his chin her her sternum so he could gaze up at her. “I’d take you in your overalls and pigtail braids any day.”

“Is this some Pippy Longstocking fetish we should all know about?”

He grinned, rising to his feet and giving one of her curls a playful tug.

“Because as devastating as you are playing dress up in your sister’s clothes, I prefer you as you.”

“You can’t say that when I’m naked,” she said with a smile, touching his cheek.

“Why not?”

“Because I may start crying and ruin the mood.”

He cocked his head to the side, tracing her lips with a finger.

“I wouldn’t mind a few tears from you in bed. But only if it’s from you sobbing in pleasure.”

His words sent blood pooling south, the intensity cause a dull throbbing.

“Why do I feel like you could do it, too?” She asked, reaching down to free his belt as he heeled out of his boots.

“Don’t tempt me,” he said, taking her hand and guiding it between his legs. “Forget this,” he said, squeezing gently so she could feel how hard he was. “I could go down on your all night and be the happiest guy on Earth.”

Emerie had said as much once, at a drunken girls’ night.

Azriel strikes me as the type of guy who loves eating girls out. It’s why gay women find him so easy to befriend; we recognize kindred spirit.

Elain vowed to never tell the others she’d been right.

“Will you let me?” He asked, gently nudging her dressing off her hips until it came free and pooled at her feet.

“Is this a trick question?” She said, voice going hoarse as he slipping a hand into her underwear.

“Some people don’t like it.”

“I’m not one of them,” she said, he smiled, coaxing her legs around his waist so he could carry her.

“Thank God,” he replayed. “That would break my heart. Which way?”

She pointed him in the right direction before giving into temptation and kissing him again, looking to way she could feel like body reacting to hers as he held her close. Only when they reached her room—which was decidedly messier than she’d have liked considering Azriel Macar was now in it—did he set her down.

He wasted no time into coaxing her onto the bed, taking only a moment to admire the silky black thong she wore before dragging into down her thighs and discarding it.

“Spread your legs for me, El,” he said, brushing kisses to her knee as she slowly did as he commanded.

The light from the nearby street lamp made the room a lot less dark than Elain was used to during sex, and for a moment she though to be embarrassed or postpone. Then she glanced down to admire the contrast of Azriel’s inky black hair framed against the pale skin of her thighs, and she forgot what it even meant to be self-conscious as he finally put him mouth on her.

She swore at the first brush of his tongue, which was both deliberate and extremely delicate. She threaded a hand through his hair at his second stroke, the touch more intentional this time.

“Azriel,” she breathed.

She watched the muscles in his beautiful back shift at this, as if hearing her moan his name had untethered something in him. When he put his mouth back on her, it was clear he was no longer attempted to tease her. Instead he felt right to where she needed him most, refusing to relent until she tipped over the edge.

Even then he didn’t seem satisfied, it and it was only after he made her come a second time did he pull back, licking his lips before bending to kiss her.

“Take your pants off,” she demanded. "Right now.”

She felt him grinning against her neck as he peeled off of her, slowly working the buttons of his pants before sliding them down his trim hips. He wore black boxer briefs underneath, and he honestly looked like an Armani model. She bit her lip, eying the sizable swell of him through the cotton.

“Those too,” she breathed, greedily drinking in his well-defined adonis belt and the bare trace of hair above the band.

He did as she commanded, and she nearly melted. Naked he was a God, all rippling muscles and smooth unblemished skin, save for the chest piece tattoo that extended onto his shoulders and halfway down his arms. She let her eyes sink lower. Even half-hard he was big, and her belly clenched.

Wasting no time, she urged him to take her place on the bed before kneeling at his feet and putting her mouth on it.

“Shit,” he hissed, driving a hand into his hand then down his face. “Ellie, you’re kiling me.”

She looked up at him through her lashes, and he growled in approval, seeming to decide something before breaking her grip on him and hauling her to her feet. He kissed her again, and she could feel his cock as it practically pulsed between them.

She still wasn’t sure she could believe it was for her, that somehow he wanted her as much as she did him, and had for almost as long.

“Condoms,” he breathed against her mouth. “I need to be inside of you.”

She froze.

“I don’t have any,” she said, dismayed.

How could she be so stupid? Why didn’t they stop on the way home? The closest bodega was six blocks, and she knew everyone who worked there. The last thing she needed was all of them knowing—

Azriel pressed a swift kiss to her lips before tangling from her.

“Where are you going?”

“To grab a condom.”

“Naked?

He flashed her a slight grimace, “Let’s agree you won’t ask where I get it from.”

“Oh Moses,” Elain said, face flushing scarlet as she listened to Nesta’s door creaking open.

Azriel was back in less than a minute, tossing an entire box onto the nightstand as he pulled open one of the foils with his teeth, using his free hand to push his damp hair, long enough to brush his cheekbones now that it wasn’t styled, out of his eyes.

“You found those distressingly fast,” Elain said, unsure if she was amused or mortified at the situation.

“Cash is predictable with his hiding spots,” Az said, eyes hooded as he stroked himself several times before rolling the condom onto his length.

“And why did you take the whole box?”

Azriel laughed softly.

“Because I have a feeling we’re going to need them.”

Without another word Az sank to his knees again, one hand lazily stroking himself to maintain his erection as he went down on her again.

This time it only last three seconds or so before he pulled back, resting one knee beside her hip to steady himself before pulling her onto his shaft in a single wet stroke. Using her left bent leg as leverage, he adjusted his angle, smirking at her low, guttural moan of pleasure.

“Good to know your g-spot is as sensitive as the rest of you,” he breathed, and she laughed and tugged him into an ambitious rhythm.

Soon the only sound was their shared breathing, and the sliding on their bodies against one another. She came first, and he followed even before the dizzying waves of pleasure ceased. He pumped lazily in and out of her for another half dozen stroke before gently extracting from her and peeling off the condom.

She curled against him, cheek pressed to chest as her hands continued to explore. Her fingers caressed his swelling pectorals and each of his abdominal muscles before lazily venturing back between his legs. He gave a hiss of pleasure as she began to work his silken shaft in earnest, and in minutes he was fully ready again.

He groaned when she snatched one of the condoms and rolled it onto him before swinging a leg over and sinking astride him.

Her third orgasm hit her only a short time later, and she sighed when he bucked up into her before going languid under her ministrations.

She leaned down to kiss him as he ran a soothing hand down her back.

“Jesus,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to hers and swirling his hips, still inside her despite his orgasm. “That was incredible.”

She purred her contentment, feeling something even more alluring than desire swell in her chest as he discarded the second condom and tugged her into his arms, tangling their legs. He still smelled like cologne, but it had mixed with her perfume, and sweat, and the scent was intoxicating. She wanted to bath in it—in him—until she died from bliss. She listened to his breathing even out, and as she was drifting off to bed, he felt his breath ruffle her hair.

“Do you like pancakes?” he murmured. “I want to make you breakfast in the morning.”

“Really?” she said, looking at him over a shoulder and melting at the warmth in his smile, less guarded now than it had been even hours before.

“I want to make breakfast for you every morning,” he breathed. “I have since I met you.”

She smiled, nestling closer to him.

“I’d love that, but I should probably be the one making you breakfast. It is your birthday, after all. You have to let me give you something other than a bj and a few orgasms for your birthday, even if it is your dirty 30.”

Az choked on a laugh.

“Say you‘ll dinner with me, then. No family or nosy friends around, just us.”

“I think the word you’re looking for it ‘date’,” she said, laughing as his cheeks flushed before realizing something. “Or is the idea just too formal for the situation? I know we did things a bit backwards...”

“We did,” he agreed, stroking her cheek. “But that doesn’t mean I want to spoil you any less. So yes a date, if you’ll still have me.”

“I will,” she said, meeting his hazel eyes before gently kissing him. “With pleasure.”

He smiled against her mouth.

“Then that’s the only birthday gift I want or need from you.”

She smiled, feeling happy to the point of bursting when he kissed her ear and closed his eyes again.

"Happy Birthday, Az.”

His hum of contentment vibrated through her back.

“The happiest,” he breathed.

[redrobin-detective]

the end is where we start from

What we call the beginning is often the end / And to make an end is to make a beginning / The end is where we start from. ~ T.S. Elliot, Little Giddings

Danny was running, he didn’t know where to all he knew was who he was running from. He didn’t know if his parents were even coming after him, guns blazing and mouths sneering but he didn’t dare turn around to look. Maybe they weren’t even going to bother chasing him, maybe they were just happy the ghostly scum was out of their house. 

He saw the entrance to Amity’s deepest woods and he darted for it. It was dark and thick and easy to lose yourself in so people usually thought twice before they entered. But people like Danny had little else to lose. The sting of branches swiping at him before he could turn intangible, giant, gnarling roots tripping him up before he could float over him. But he didn’t dare slow down because that would mean acknowledging what had happened.

Another missed curfew, another argument where he and his parents talked about but around each other. Another ghost showing up just as he got dressed for bed, another transformation to take care of it before he could get some sleep. Only the same old script flipped on itself when Mom opened the door, bringing in some tea as an apology for her harsh words just into time to see her son become a ghost. Her gun was drawn before the cup hit the floor and shattered, along with Danny’s heart.

Deep in the thicket of the woods, his human lungs burned and his living muscles ached but he couldn’t turn into Phantom now. Not when it was the stupid ghost’s fault he wasn’t welcome in his own home anymore.

‘What are you doing with my son, ghost?’

‘Mom, please it’s Danny I can explain, please would you just listen?’

‘You can’t be alive and dead at the same time! It’s impossible!’ Oh god my baby died and I didn’t even notice’

‘Mom, Dad, listen to Danny, he’s telling the truth. This is why he never-’

‘Jasmine, you’ve been deceived that’s what ghosts do! That’s what Phantom in particular is known for!’

“Jazzy, Danno, I want to believe you, but it’s a lot to take in. Let us run some tests to make sure.’

‘Danny! Danny wait! Come back!’

Eventually his human body ran out of steam, adrenaline and desperation can only take a person so far. His speeding gait slowed to a lopping jog before settling into a quiet, miserable walk. He squeezed his eyes shut and dared to look over his shoulder but, of course, no one was there. It was just him, the darkness and his own woes.

“What am I going to do now?” He asked quietly, weakly as he fought back panicked tears. All he could see was his mother’s angry, grieving face. His father’s confusion as he tried to make sense of it all while trying to keep the peace. Jazz’s frustration and futile attempts to shield Danny from the worst of the shouting.

He had nothing on his person, why would he? He’d been about ready to go to bed when his whole world came crashing down. His worn Star Wars t-shirt and sweatpants offered little protection from the gloomy October weather but Danny’s ice core more than protected him from the chill. He welcomed it if anything, it matched the ice growing in his heart. No money to escape with, no phone to call for help, no tools to contain any ghosts he battled. He hadn’t even had dinner last night, too busy fighting ghosts. For the first time, Danny was well and truly on his own. Not even dying had seemed so scary.

“I can handle this,” Danny said with false calm. It was pitch dark around him but a little ectoplasmic light brightened the area up. “I’ll just stay here for the night and then I’ll check in tomorrow. If things are still bad, I’ll grab my gear and go.” Where he’d go was a whole other question but that wasn’t important right now. He was still too raw to think about what he’d do if he actually had to abandon his human life. All he could focus on right now was the hurt pulsing through him.

He wandered around in the dark for a little while longer, looking for a suitable place to set up camp for the night. Eventually, he came upon a set of twisting trees that was perfect for his purposes. Lightening his weight, he climbed up halfway and made a little ice tent in the branches. It was lightweight but thick, covering him up and serving as a shield between him and the rest of the world. In his own little ice palace, no one else could hurt him.

“There we go, home sweet home,” Danny mumbled as he crawled inside with a dull thump. He’d left a little skylight open, so he could look up at the stars. If he didn’t think too hard about it, he could imagine he was out camping with his dad or stargazing with his friends. “No, stop it. You’re only making it worse,” he said quietly to himself as the annoying flush of sadness washed over him. He didn’t like to cry; it made him feel stupid and childish and exhausted. Jazz had lectured him about the cleansing release of neurochemicals and other junk but really he usually felt worse after crying. 

“This is fine, everything is fine,” Danny sniffled, shuddering as he curled in on himself. The only cold that could hurt him was his own. It really wasn’t a great idea to use his that much of his ice in his human form, it chilled his body too much to be healthy. That, combined with his light clothes, the chilly night and that fact that he was laying on a solid block of ice, didn’t help matters. If Sam and Tucker could see him, they’d be shoving him in the shower to warm him up and plying him with food and blankets. Jazz and her dozen kind of herbal teas that help with mood or digestion or whatever would shove one or two into his hands and hover until he drank some. Their nagging was annoying but it was helpful and made him feel so loved. Love he wasn’t feeling out in the woods all by himself in the middle of the night.

“This is fine,” he repeated, more choked up this time and gave into his desire to cry. His chest hurt from the force of his sobs and eyes burned from the salty tears. He was flushed and cold and miserable but eventually, after wiping snot away from his nose and hiccupping quietly, he was ready to sleep. He was so worn out from all the hurting and the crying that he slipped from wakefulness as easy as going ghost.

“Child, what are you doing?” Danny groaned at the vaguely familiar voice. His ghost sense went off, reminding him once more how cold he was. He barely had it in him to shiver right now. “Ghost child, awaken and explain yourself.” Cold metal poked repeatedly into his side until Danny shoved the hand away, sitting up with a miserable glare.

“Go away, I’m not in the mood,” Danny grumbled, turning away from Skulker to try and go back to sleep. “I already feel bad enough, I don’t need you making it worse.”

“That does not explain why you are in a tree in the woods,” Skulker said slowly, still hung on stupid details. “The last I checked, the human Lair you stayed in was still standing. I stopped there to show you my latest weapon but you weren’t there, I traced your signature here.”

“Congrats, pass go and collect $200,” Danny sniped back quietly, not putting any heat into it. He didn’t have much to spare.

“Why are you out here, all alone?” Skulker frowned, “humans are susceptible to the elements, I presume you’re no exception given your current state. Just this once, I will stay the hunt to return you to your human Lair and we shall resume at a later-”

“No, I can’t go back,” Danny gasped fearfully, he curled in deeper on himself. “My parents, they know about me, about my powers. They didn’t take it well, I can’t- I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“But those human children-”

“I’m not getting them involved in this, they’re already in too deep. Tucker’s still grounded from that incident with Desiree and if Sam’s parents caught me in her room at night I’d lose the other half of my miserable life,” Danny grumbled. “Just leave me alone or kill me and take my pelt. Either one, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I see,” Skulker hummed, “stay here, Child, I will return.” Skulker said before flying off.

“Great, can’t wait,” Danny murmured as he rearranged himself on his ice block. He still felt unbearably cold but it probably wasn’t enough to actually kill him. Probably. “Stupid ghosts, stupid powers, if I hadn’t walked into that stupid portal, I’d be be safe and warm in bed right now and only have to worry about passing pre-calc.” It felt like he’d barely fallen back asleep when he was forcibly awaken by something soft and heavy dropping on him.

He phased out of the tangle only to find a bunch of blankets and heavy winter coat that looked 2 sizes too big for him. “What the-”

“Wow you weren’t kidding, babe, he looks like a trainwreck,” he heard Ember’s gruff voice say. “Hey dummy, put on the stupid coat. I ain’t had nerve endings in a while but I’m getting cold just looking atcha.”

“You bring your girlfriend to harass me in the middle of the night with,” Danny eyed the pile with price tags still on them, “stolen merchandise.”

“Shut up, we’re crashing your pathetic little pity party so you don’t die before I can off you myself,” the rock star huffed. “If that coat isn’t on you in five seconds, I’m manhandling your skinny arms into it.”

“Jeez you’re worse than my sister,” Danny grumbled even as he pulled the coat on. It was big but fluffy, the extra layer instantly made him feel a bit better. “Happy?”

“Getting there. Techy, you brought the food or what?” Danny yelped as a large amount of food dropped in through his skylight. It was an interesting mix, a jumbo bag of peanuts, dijon mustard, a jar of pickled eggs, a couple bags of chips and a box of uncooked macaroni noodles. “Here, eat some human food.”

“What?” Danny questioned as Technus poked his head into the icy tree house. 

“Oh nice place you got here child but it needs more lights and a flat screen and, oh, I can set you up with a killer stereo system over eek!” the technology ghost yelped as he was pulled back and Poindexter replaced him. 

“Hey Danny, heard you were in a bit of a bind. Thanks to you, my Lair’s school is a better place now, bully free. You can cool your jets with me if you need to fly the coop.” Danny didn’t answer and instead opened one of the bags of chips, barbeque and ranch sweet. 

“You can also stay on my island for however long you need to recover,” Skulker grumbled, like it pained him to say. “It’s no fun to hunt you when you’re so weak. I want to defeat you at your prime not at your lowest.”

“No, no, come to my lair! Everything is beeping and flashing all the time and I have a Minecraft room!” Technus interjected.

“I guess you could come to mine if you have to,” Ember huffed. “But aren’t you also buddy buddy with the Yetis bein’ an ice core and all? Or Queen Dora? Pretty much anyone will open their lairs to you with your stupid, beaten puppy dog eyes.”

“You guys, I don’t know what to say,” Danny said softly, taken aback by the show of kindness. He took in the blankets, the coat, the food, their offers. They didn’t understand, not really, but they were trying. It meant a lot, coming from his enemies. “Thank you.”

“Well, yeah, us nerds got to stick together,” Poindexter grinned.

“You’re human and an annoyance but your existence has given my afterlife quite a thrill. I’m not ready for the hunt to end quite yet,” Skulker announced.

“You’re our favorite nemesis,” Technus exclaimed, trying to squeeze his face back through the packed skylight. “We fight, we banter but we also support each other when we’re down! Whenever I’m feeling down, I come into the human world and our battles have me back up and running in no time!”

“Huh,” Danny said, looking down with a small smile. If his enemies could put aside their grudges and help him when he needed it then maybe... “Thanks again really but uh, I think I should go home, check in with my folks. Probably shouldn’t have run off like that but um, if it goes bad...”

“You’re part ghost,” Skulker said with a sharp nod. “The Zone is as much your home as it is ours. Really should get around to making a Lair one of these days. Only weak ghosts and parasites leech off of others.”

“You know the way back from here?” Ember asked. “Need an entourage?” 

“Yeah I got it,” Danny answered, triggering his transformation. Poindexter squealed with delight as he phased out of his sad little ice cave. It looked cold and lonely which wasn’t what he needed right now. “And I’ll- it’ll be fine. I don’t think bringing a bunch of ghosts home with me will help my case.”

“Farewell, Child. May your spirits be higher on our next meeting. Having the support of ghost hunters will certainly add to the challenge of the hunt,” Skulker grinned. “I look forward to it.” He flew off and the others followed. Danny smiled, watching them go for a moment before flying in the opposite direction towards his house.

He was halfway home when the Fenton Assault Vehicle careened around a corner at an unsafe speed. Danny jumped as it went past, startled out of invisibility. He made eye contact with his parents before the RV skidded to a screeching halt and then hastily backed up. The window rolled down and he met the wide, teary eyes of his mom and dad.

“Uh funny running into you in a place like this,” he said shyly, looking down.

“Oh thank heavens, Danny where have you been? We’ve been worried sick!” His mother cried, jumping out of the RV and pulling him down into her arms. His father was on the phone, he heard Jazz’s name being mentioned, along with Sam and Tucker. “Baby, you’re freezing! Is this,” she paused, pulling back and delicately touching his wisp like hair. “Is that normal?”

“Sort of,” he said, leaning back into her touch. “It’s all kind of a long story. I shouldn’t have run off like that, I’m sorry.”

“No, you shouldn’t have but I don’t blame you,” Dad said, stepping out of the car and wrapping them both in a hug. “But Fenton men always make up for their goof ups. You were headed back home, right?”

“Yeah, home,” Danny sighed.

“Danny, I still don’t understand but I, we, love you and I’m sorry if we made you doubt that. We’ll work it out, sweetie, I promise. That’s what family does,” Mom said before ushering him and Dad into the car. “Now in you get, it’s too cold and too late for this and I do not want the neighbors complaining to the HOA again.”

Danny changed back in front of his parents for the second time that evening, this time intentionally. Their curiosity and happiness at seeing him overrode their earlier fear and confusion. He settled more comfortably into the backseat, warm and happy for the first time all evening.

“Danno, where’s you get the jacket?” Dad asked.

“My other family, don’t worry, I’ll explain it all tomorrow.”

[queenshelby]

Unexpected Circumstances (Just Friends Part 7) - Cillian Murphy Imagine

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: SMUT

Words: 5789

Notes: I have decided to include one of the requests I received in this series as I didn’t know how to best write it as a standalone at this point. I think it makes sense as part of this series as trust between Cillian and the Reader has been clearly established. I might still write a stand-alone piece as well incorporating the same request as this is the sort of Smut I like. So, stay tuned for that!

------

The Letter

It has been five weeks now since Cillian and you admitted your feelings for each other and things were going great.

Some days you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have found a man like him, someone who cared not only for you but also your son Max.

Cillian adored Max and Max enjoyed Cillian’s and Cillian’s children’s company.

Cillian would often pick Max up from preschool when you had to work late and prepare dinner for you and Max. Max thought that this was fantastic since you were a terrible cook.

But, despite this, it was sometimes difficult to arrange dates when you both had children to look after. You both tried to work around this issue as best as you could but, realistically, you only managed to have three sleepovers per week, mostly when Cillian didn’t have his boys. This was when he came over to stay at your house and you always hated when he had to leave.

After all, you were madly in love, a feeling which was unfamiliar to you. You wanted to be around him all the time and whenever you weren’t together you missed him.

As expected, you received some backlash from strangers due to your age gap but you tended to ignore the frustrating comments. They didn’t know you and they didn’t know your relationship.

The comments you received from your friends were nothing but supportive and even your grandmother thought that Cillian was good for you, much unlike your previous partners.

You still haven’t told your parents about your relationship, but your sister was aware. She followed Twitter quite eagerly and loved Cillian’s TV Show hence the reason you told her.

Your sister was concerned that your father wouldn’t approve of your relationship due to the large age gap, but that wasn’t a problem you were ready to face yet and little did you know that you were about to have bigger problems than that coming your way.

Bad news was about to hit you like a freight train. It was 10am on Friday morning. You were working from home while Max was at preschool as the doorbell rang.

It was unusual for the postman to drop off letters personally. Usually that meant that you had to sign for your letters, which was never a good sign.

You thought that it must be a vehicle recall, or notice of some sort. But it was worse. It was a letter from your real estate agent advising you that you will be required to vacate the premises within 30 days.

You could not believe it. It was difficult enough for you to find this townhouse as a single mother in an area where the schools were decent enough. You were always on time with your rent and never missed a single payment. You had no idea why you had to move out.

You called the real estate agent immediately and were advised that the owner is returning from America and requires the premises at the end of the lease term. There was nothing you could do.

The real estate agent advised you that there were no suitable rentals in the area within your price range but that they were willing to give you a good reference should you find something else with a different agent.

You were devastated. The last thing you wanted is to take Max out of preschool just after he made some friends. Furthermore, Cillian’s youngest son was attending the same preschool and it was a perfect arrangement for the both of you.

As you went on with the day, you put your non urgent work aside in order to search for rentals online as, all of a sudden, the doorbell rang.

‘Oh Cillian… I totally forgot’ you said as you opened the door.

‘You forgot our date?’ Cillian chuckled as he walked in the door, giving you a quick kiss.

‘I must be the worst girlfriend’ you said with some embarrassment. You never forgot a date with your boyfriend before. After all, it was what you looked forward to the most.

‘Relax, it’s fine Y/N’ Cillian said before noticing that your face was slightly flushed and your eyes were red.

‘Are you alright though? You look like you’ve been crying’ Cillian said as he ran his hands over both of your arms. He knew that something was wrong.

‘Yes, I just had a very stressful and shit morning. I am alright now though’ you said as you walked into the bedroom to get changed, ready to go out for lunch.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Cillian asked from the hallway.

You took the letter which you received from the real estate agent from the sideboard in the hallway and handed it to him.

‘I’ve just been searching for a new rental but they are either too expensive or out of the area. But, I have found one in North Dublin and the schools there have halfway decent reviews so…’ you explained and, before you could finish your sentence, Cillian interrupted you.

‘The schools here are much better Y/N. I don’t think you should change Max mid-term; it will put him behind’ Cillian said.

‘Don’t you think I know this?’ you asked frustrated. You were still quite upset about having to move.

‘I will lose the enrolment as soon as I move out of area. Despite, I cannot drive backwards and forwards with work. I barely make pickup time now with the hours I am at the office’ you added just as tears began to build up in your eyes again.

‘Common, sit down’ Cillian said as he sat down on the bed next to you and wrapping his arms around you.

‘I might have a solution’ he said as he wiped your tears away.

‘Go on then’ you said, still sobbing.

‘You and Max could move in with me. That way, we could spend more time together and Max won’t have to change preschool and can start year one with Charlie’ Cillian suggested.

‘Move in with you? Cillian, don’t you think it’s a bit too early for that? We have only been together for 5 weeks’ you said.

‘Yes, but we’ve known each other for a few months now. Seems like a perfectly reasonable timeframe’ Cillian chuckled, making you laugh. You knew that he was being sarcastic. He always had a good sense of humour.

‘Coming from the man who just a couple of months ago didn’t want to settle down’ you smiled.

‘Well, that was before I got myself such a beautiful girlfriend’ Cillian said before giving you a passionate kiss. He could taste the saltiness from your tears but it didn’t seem to bother him.

‘You are crazy, you know that’ you chuckled after your lips drifted apart.

‘Well, you do that to me’ Cillian said while cupping your face with both of his hands.

‘We would, however, need to work on your cooking skills’ he added jokingly, earning him a nudge.

‘Very funny’ you said with a laugh.

‘Seriously though, what do you think?’ Cillian asked.

‘I think Max would really love this idea and I would love nothing more than sharing a bed with you every night. I am just worried that you will get sick of me after a while’ you said.

‘I don’t think I could ever get sick of you Y/N. Just your cooking’ Cillian chuckled before telling you that he loved you.

‘I love you too Cilly’ you said before kissing him passionately.

‘Is that a yes?’ he asked.

‘It’s a yes, thank you’ you said before pushing him back onto the bed.

‘The lunch reservation is at 1pm Y/N’ Cillian said as you hoovered over him.

‘Forget about lunch’ you responded just as you threw your t-shirt to the floor.

However, just as you were getting down to business, your phone rang, not once, but twice.

It was Max’s preschool and you knew that it was urgent.

You quickly returned the call and were told that you must pick up Max as he had a fall on the playground.

You got dressed quickly and drove to preschool to pick up Max. You were advised to go to hospital to see whether Max’s arm was broken.

Being cautious, you followed the teacher’s advice and took Max for an x-ray at hospital. Luckily, it was just a sprain which should resolve with some rest. Unfortunately, by the time you got to leave the hospital it was 6pm. You were there for hours.

Cillian suggested that you and Max come over to his place for dinner. You gladly accepted the offer and this allowed you both to talk to your kids about moving in together.

As you told them, they were beyond excited and Max was quick to arrange a sleepover for the following night.

You and Cillian agreed but, for a change, arranged a babysitter to look after your three boys allowing you to go for dinner and to the movies with your friends which was something you didn’t do very often.

Movie Night

The next evening, Cillian’s sister came over to watch the kids. This was the first time you met someone from Cillian’s family and she was quite excited to get to know you.

Apparently, Cillian had told her and his parents about you already.

After you chatted with her for half an hour, you both made your way to the restaurant.

Unfortunately for you, your friends had invited Jeremy, unaware of the fact that he continued to message you daily much to Cillian’s frustration.

Regardless of this, both you and Cillian were polite as you sat down across from Jeremy and your friends.

‘What did you guys do with the kids tonight?’ your friend Amy asked.

‘My sister is looking after them at my house’ Cillian responded.

‘What about Max?’ she asked.

‘Max is at Cillian’s house as well’ you said, which is when your friend Amy slipped the news. You had already told her that you would be moving in with Cillian just before he starts filming again.

‘Oh well, better to get used to it. Living with 4 boys soon Y/N eh? That shall be interesting’ she said.

Her comment quickly raised a lot of questions, in particular from Jeremy.

‘You really are becoming a sugar baby Y/N aren’t you?’ he said sarcastically, causing Cillian to laugh. He tried very hard to take Jeremy seriously, but it was difficult.

‘A sugar baby? Is that even a word?’ Cillian asked.

‘You know what I mean’ Jeremy said.

‘No, please enlighten me’ Cillian responded.

‘Alright’ Cillian chuckled.

‘It’s none of my business Cillian, but why is that you actors have to get involved with women who are so much younger than you?’ Jeremy said.

‘You are right, it’s none of your business Jeremy’ you said harshly while Cillian tried hard to bite his tongue.

Your friends quickly changed the conversation after that but you couldn’t keep your hands of your boyfriend that evening simply to annoy Jeremy and Cillian played along.

‘I am sorry he’s been a tool’ you whispered into Cillian’s ear as you walked to the movies with your friends.

‘I find it very difficult to remain polite around him’ Cillian said.

‘I know’ you responded just as the theatre opened.

You took your seats and, to your frustration, Jeremy sat down right next to you, causing Cillian to get annoyed.  

After what Jeremy had said to you and Cillian, you refused to speak to him and largely ignored him until the movie started.

About twenty minutes into the movie, you started to get rather bored. You couldn’t believe that you had to be there for another two hours. Who decided to choose a two- and half-hour movie in French, with subtitles? Of course, you did, without doing any research.

You looked over to Cillian and noticed that he was disinterested in the movie as well and stopped reading the subtitles. It was evident, he was somewhere in dreamland, probably thinking about how he could annoy Jeremy after his most recent insult.

Noticing your boyfriend’s disinterest in the movie, you reached for his hand, running your hand over the top of his gently. You had his attention now and he gave you a warm smile for all you could tell in the dark theatre.

Taking his hand into yours, you guided it on top of your thighs which is where it sat for a while. Not getting the hint, you arched back into your seat and guided his hand further up beneath your loose cotton skirt.

Whilst you couldn’t see much, you noticed Cillian turn his head towards you. Just as he did, you guided his hand further up your thigh while biting your lip. You tried hard for your eyes not to leave the movie screen.

He finally got the hint and squeezed your thigh gently before handing you your cardigan from your bag.

You placed the cardigan across your lap just as Cillian lifted up your skirt slightly beneath it, giving him better access.

You glanced to your right to ensure that Jeremy, who was sitting next to you, didn’t see what Cillian was doing.

Luckily for you, he was intensely focused on the movie although, no doubt, your boyfriend would have preferred if Jeremy knew what you were doing. After all, Jeremy had just insulted him and it wasn’t long before Cillian and you got together, that Jeremy had told him that he would like to get into your panties.

Just as Cillian’s fingers wandered up your upper inner thigh, you released a sigh and parted your legs slightly while making sure that your cardigan provided enough cover.

By the time Cillian’s fingers reached the apex of your thighs and touched your panties, they were already damp.

You were grateful that the theatre was so dark because your skirt was up to the top of your thighs and draped over Cillian’s hand which would otherwise have been clearly noticeable beneath the thin cardigan.

You were panting with desire, just from Cillian stroking and squeezing your thighs and running his hand over your wet panties.

You slid down a bit in your chair and spread your thighs even more. The adrenaline rush had your inhibitions going out the window.

You could hear a slight chuckle from Cillian as he noticed you pushing your body down against his hand.

Just in that moment, you felt his fingers sliding your panties to the side.

Within seconds, he dipped a finger inside your wet entrance, gathering some of your natural lubrication, then moved it upwards toward your clit.

You sucked in a breath through your teeth, hissing quietly. By that time, you both had completely stopped paying attention to the movie.

Cillian started in a slow rhythm, circling your clit a few times, then dipping down shallowly into your entrance, repeating it over and over.

Your fingers were digging into his forearm on one side and onto the armrest on the other.

Your hips were moving of their own accord as you were whimpering quietly as Cillian’s fingers moved in and out of you.

Suddenly, it hit. You groaned quietly, gripping boyfriend’s hand, pushing his finger into you even deeper and grinding your clit against the palm of his hand.

Your walls clenched around his fingers as your orgasm washed over you and you couldn’t help it but let out a shallow moan.

‘Are you alright Y/N?’ Jeremy asked, noticing the sound you made while looking at you with some confusion.

‘Yes, I am fine’ you said bluntly and with a deep breath while Cillian pulled his fingers out of you with a grin on his face.

You handed Jeremy your popcorn before rearranging your skirt and handing Cillian your cardigan. At this point, he needed it more than you as his erection pushed against the zipper of his jeans.

‘Follow me’ you whispered into Cillian’s ear before standing up and excusing yourself, walking past Jeremy.

‘Where are you going?’ Jeremy asked.

‘Bathroom’ you responded. You were still annoyed with him and he wouldn’t get anything from you but stern and short answers.  

Cillian waited another minute or two before following you so that he wouldn’t raise any suspicion.

You waited for him in the front of the cinema with a big smile on your face.

‘You choose the worst movies’ Cillian said with a cheeky smile.

‘I have been enjoying it so far’ you smirked before taking his hand and pulling him towards the parents’ room.

‘Y/N, I don’t think this is a good idea’ Cillian said as you locked the door behind you.

‘Relax, it’s 10pm. No one will need this room until tomorrow. We will be safe. Despite, I know you, this won’t go down any time soon unless we get to it’ you smirked as you placed your hands on Cillian’s crotch before crashing your lips onto his with haste.

Without wasting any time, you unbuttoned his jeans and pushed down his zipper before running your hand inside his briefs and stroking his hard cock.

‘You’ve got ten minutes’ you said after breaking the kiss and before turning around, leaning forward over the wash basin.

Within seconds, Cillian lifted up your skirt and pushed down your panties before lining himself up with your wet entrance.

You smiled at him in the mirror as he gently pushed your legs apart and grasped the perky butt cheeks before him.

Cillian pried them apart and stepped forward. He was flush against you and you couldn’t help it but release a soft moan.

His cock slipped between your legs, and the head glided across your sensitive lips.

‘Fuck I want you so much’ you moaned as you pushed back against him in anticipation.

Without words, Cillian pulled back a little and then pushed up into your tight tunnel.

‘Fuck’ you moaned loudly as your walls stretched to fit his length inside you.

‘You got to be quiet’ Cillian whispered from behind you as he began to thrust in and out of you.

He gave you barely a moment to brace yourself before he gripped your hips and pulled back. His cock slipped out almost the whole way before he thrust his hips forward and dived back into your heat.

Cillian set a hard pace, knowing that you didn’t have much time together before someone would get suspicious.

You could hear his laboured breathing behind you as you held onto the basin tightly.

‘God yes’ you moaned quietly as the tip of his cock hit your cervix over and over again.

Cillian smiled at your reaction and reached down to grab your thighs. He spread your legs even wider. By that time, you were on your toes, with no leverage of your own.

‘Don’t stop’ you whispered as you could feel another orgasm build up in your stomach and, within seconds, your walls constricted around him.

You cried out a little too loudly, and your whole body shook as your orgasm slammed into you.

Cillian kept his brutal thrusts up as you rode out the waves of pleasure. Your legs trembled before him and he smiled as you whimpered with every thrust.

The contractions around his cock and your moans sent Cillian over the edge also and, shortly after you came down from your high, he reached his and filled you with his warm cum.

‘Fuck Y/N’ he moaned quietly as he slowly began to relax, his face resting on the back of your shoulders, kissing them gently.

After he came down completely, he pulled out of you and you could feel the mixture of his cum and yours drip down your thighs.

Cillian handed you a paper towel but you declined the offer and simply pulled up your panties.

‘I like to remember this for the rest of the night’ you grinned before giving him another passionate kiss.

Your comment earned you a chuckle but, deep down inside, Cillian liked the thought of knowing that your panties will be wet from his cum for the remainder of the night.

After making sure that no one was around, you left the room together and made your way back to the theatre together.

‘You’ve been gone for a while. Is everything alright?’ Jeremy asked as you sat back down next to him.

‘Yeah, I had to make a phone call’ you said just as Cillian sat back down next to you.

You both had a cheeky grin on your face as you watched the rest of the movie.

‘The movie was great, wasn’t it?’ your friend Alice asked as you left the theatre and Jeremy agreed simply because he knew that you chose it.

‘What did you think about the twist towards the end Cilly?’ she then asked.

‘Yeah, uhm…yeah it was alright’ Cillian said, not knowing what she was talking about.

‘There was a twist?’ you whispered to Cillian as you walked outside the theatre.

‘I think we missed the majority of the plot babe’ Cillian whispered back before taking your hand into his and following the others to the pub.

Jeremy kept starring at you and Cillian and you could notice the frustration on his face. You enjoyed it, a lot.

Later at the pub, Cillian received the usual attention from some young females. It always made you chuckle but it really annoyed Jeremy.

Despite the fact that Cillian enjoyed Jeremy getting annoyed, it soon became too much for him and, after about three drinks, you both decided to leave.

Getting Down to Business

You called a taxi and drove back to Cillian’s house.

‘It’s unbelievable’ you giggled sheepishly and slightly tipsy from the three gin and tonics you had earlier.

‘What is?’ Cillian asked, closing the door behind you.

‘All the attention you get from all of these young women every time we go out’ you said.

‘What can I say, it’s Tommy Shelby Effect’ Cillian laughed.

‘Hmm I think I get it’ you said and, just after this comment, you kissed him passionately just as his sister walked out of the living room.

‘Alright, I am going’ his sister chuckled.

You both thanked her for looking after the children and made your way to the shower. You both smelled like beer and popcorn.

Just as you got into the large shower together and were talking about the evening, Cillian couldn’t help it but complain about Jeremy.

‘You know, I am yours Cillian!’ you said as you ran your hands over his chest.

‘You are mine, are you?’ he chuckled in response to your comment which reminded him on his script for Season 5 of Peaky Blinders.

‘Yes…’ you whispered into his ear just before biting his earlobe gently while the hot water ran down in between you.

Cillian’s hands soon moved from your back down to your naked butt cheeks while his lips kissed the bare skin on your neck.

‘I love you Y/N’ he said in between kisses.

‘I love you too Cillian and I want you to fuck me as if you own me’ you whispered. ‘Take me the way you want to’ you added seductively.

‘You’ve been watching too much of this TV show’ Cillian said with a chuckle, referring to a new TV documentary series that you were watching on Netflix about BDSM.

‘It’s intriguing though, isn’t it?’ you asked running your hands over Cillian’s chest and down in between his legs. He grew hard almost instantly as you touched him.

Your face was inches away from his and you could see pure hunger and lust aflame in his eyes as you were stroking him gently. His warm breath fanned over your face like an aphrodisiac and the want in his eyes was intoxicating.

He remembered the last episode of the documentary quite well and grabbed your hair at the back of your head gently, causing the hot water to run down your breasts.

You bit your lip with excitement, fire building up in your eyes.

‘You really want to try this don’t you?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod.

‘Alright’ he sighed with a smile and, with his free arm, he pushed you onto your knees almost instantly.

That’s it, exactly what you wanted.

He pulled on your hair, making you look up at him while you were biting your lips.

You suddenly felt a wretch in your stomach. Cillian wasn’t normally that forceful with you and you knew that, for him, it was a roleplay more than anything. Being with an actor clearly had its perks.

‘Is this what you want?’ he asked, causing you to nod again.

With his hand still firmly in your hair, he guided your mouth towards his hard cock.

You open your mouth willingly and, within one thrust, the head of his hard cock hits the back of your throat, making you gag.

You didn’t even try to pull away and he slowly and deeply began to thrust in and out of your mouth, giving your barely enough time to breath.

You gave into his rhythm as the warm water was running over your back.

‘God, your mouth feels amazing’ Cillian moaned, knowing that you enjoy it when he is talking to you while were intimate. You loved the sound of his voice.

Just as you got used to the sensation of being forced up and down his cock, he began to tweak one of your erect nipples with his free hand, causing you to moan around him.

‘Good girl, keep going’ Cillian said with a slight smirk as he toys with your nipple, pulling and rolling it between his fingers.

The pit of your stomach was set aflame and your thighs were slick with your juices.

With his cock in your mouth and your nipples being aroused, you are under sensory overload.

As he continued to thrust in and out of your mouth, you closed your eyes trying to concentrate on the raw pleasure that was radiating from your body in waves.

‘Look at me’ he demanded, causing you to open your eyes again and dig your hands into his thighs as he kept going.

‘That’s it’ he moaned, thrusting into your mouth a few more times before pulling you away from his throbbing cock and your mouth comes off with a satisfying pop.

Some small tears were running down your cheeks, your mouth sore from opening so widely and your hair was still in his hands. He roughly wiped away the saliva around your mouth and wrapped his hand around your throat gently.

You looked up into his blue eyes and wanted nothing more than for him to take you, fuck you hard.

‘Common, let’s take this to the bedroom’ he said as he began to notice the water getting cold.

‘Yes sir’ you winked, earning him a chuckle.

‘You defiantly are serious, aren’t you?’ Cillian said as you dried each other off. He was slightly out of his comfort zone but decided to play along as he could see the desire in your eyes. You were by far the most adventurous and kinky woman he’s ever been with.

Moments later, you made your way to Cillian’s bedroom.

‘I don’t think so’ Cillian said firmly as you reached the edge of the bed.

With his hand on your throat gently again and the other on your waist, he guided you towards the large reading desk in the bedroom.

‘Turn around’ he instructed and, as soon as you complied, he pushed you down onto the table.

Just as you your face leaned against the cold wood, he took both of your arms and secured both your hands behind your back.

Electricity shot down your spine as you tried to struggle out of his grasp teasingly.

You were completely under his control just as you wanted.

He put your two wrists wrapped around one hand and with the other, slowly traced a finger up your inner thigh.

You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from moaning too loudly.

Cillian took his time, exploring every inch of your thighs and ass.

‘So sexy’ Cillian said as his fingers brushed against your wet folds, causing you to whimper.

He continued to run his fingers up and down your pussy, teasing to put his fingers in.

You whined and struggled against his grasp, your wetness started trailing down your thighs.

‘Oh god yes’ you moaned as Cillian slowly eased his fingers inside, scissoring his fingers as he went.

‘Shh’ Cillian said, knowing that you had to remain quiet with the boys in the next room.

Your mind went blank as pleasure shot through your nerves, spreading like wildfire.

Cillian’s fingers swirled around inside of you languidly, leaving no space unexplored and, moments later, he brushed against your g-spot causing you to jerk.

‘Stay still’ he said as he pressed his body down, immobilizing yours.

He knew very well that you liked to squirm when he reached your sweet spot as the intensity was too overpowering.

This time, you wouldn’t get away, no matter how hard you try.

‘Oh god Cillian, please’ you yelped, the feeling of his fingers on your g-spot being too much for you to handle.

But Cillian wouldn’t let you squirm away and you soon learned that you had to just give in, surrender to him.

But, just as you relaxed and could feel your orgasm approach, he pulled his fingers out of you.

‘Did I say you could come?’ he teased as he placed his fingers into your mouth, making you taste your wet juices.

‘No sorry’ you said, hoping that he would put his fingers back inside of you.

‘Sorry what?’ Cillian asked sheepishly.

‘Sorry Sir’ you grinned just before you ran your tongue along the length of his fingers.

‘Good girl’ he whispered just as he trailed his fingers back down towards your wet entrance.

Within seconds, they entered you again and continued where they left off.

You tried hard not to come right away and, after several more minutes, you couldn’t control it any longer.

‘Cillian please, can I come?’ you moaned, your walls already beginning to contract around his fingers.

‘No Y/N, you cannot’ he said, withdrawing his fingers once again, pulling your head back on your hair and kissing you passionately.

Just as he pushed you back down, you could feel him line himself up with your entrance.

Your hands were still pinned behind your back as he pressed the tip of his cock into you slowly. Your walls clench instinctively.

‘Don’t you dare come until I’ve given you permission’ he murmured into your ear as he pushes into you torturously slow.

‘I promise I won’t come without permission’ you said as you could feel Cillian’s body against yours and his hands gripping over your hands pinned behind your back and your hair.

‘Good girl’ he whispered as he continued to push inside you slowly until he was completely inside.

You tried to wriggle so you could adjust to his size, but Cillian held you in place. He slowly moved out until only the tip remained inside and thrusts back in deeply.

You moaned loudly into the table as he continued his rhythm, fucking you slowly but deeply. Your mind blanks, pleasure rocking through your body.

You could feel him tighten his grip over your hands as he slowly pulls out and slams into you, eliciting a yelp.

‘Yes, oh god, yes’ you moaned loudly as he began to pick up the pace, knocking you almost breathless.

Your moans caused Cillian to place one of his hands over your mouth gently. You were way too loud.

You felt like a wound-up toy, yearning to be released from the tension. With every thrust, you come closer to your orgasm. He's hitting you fast and deeply, but not enough to send your over the edge. You whine and whimper, weakly struggling against his body. You are so close, teetering on a cliff.

‘Please’ you moaned into his, desperate for your release.

‘Please what?’ Cillian asked as he thrusts in and out of you and removing his hand for just one moment to allow you to speak.

‘Please let me come’ you responded.

‘You will need to do better than that’ Cillian said as he thrusts into you even deeper.

‘I do anything, please’ you moaned, your walls beginning to clench around him.

‘Anything? Hmm, alright, that seems like a fair deal’ Cillian said picking up the speed.

With those words, you let go. Pleasure rocked through your body like a wave.

You tried to fight the feeling of falling and flying at the same time as your orgasm washed over you.

Cillian moaned at the same time as he felt your tight walls close around his cock and, with three more thrusts, he came inside of you.

You could feel his cock throb inside of you as your legs shake from the powerful orgasm.

Just as you both came down from your high, he slowly pulled out of you, causing some of his cum to leak out.

He released your hands and helped you up from the desk.

You turned around to face him and, with one of your hands, you reached in between your legs collecting some of his cum before licking it from your fingers suggestively.

‘I enjoyed this’ you smirked, causing Cillian to stare at you in disbelieve.

‘You are naughty, aren’t you?’ he chuckled just before giving you a kiss.

‘Yes I am’ you smirked before you both made your way to the bed.

By that time you were exhausted.

You curled up in each other’s arms and shared some gentle moments together.

‘I am looking forward to sleeping in this bed with you every night’ you said.

‘So do I’ Cillian responded, before turning off the light.

Morning After

The next morning, you got woken up by the smell of pancakes and three missed calls.

Your father had tried to call you to congratulate Max on his recent soccer medal.

You returned the call and handed the phone to Max while you joined Cillian in the kitchen for a coffee. Just as you were drinking your coffee, you listened to Max speak to his grandfather on speaker.

‘So how have you been Max?’ grandpa asked.

‘Good poppy, we are having pancakes’ Max said.

‘Mum made pancakes? Do they taste any good?’ grandpa laughed.

‘No Cillian made pancakes. Mum and I are moving to his house soon and then we can have pancakes every weekend’ Max said.

‘Cillian? Who is Cillian?’ grandpa asked.

‘Mum’s boyfriend’ Max responded, causing you to choke on your coffee.

‘Can you please put your mother on the phone’ he said.

To be continued…..

  ‘

[venatorfemella]

No Vacancy

Dean Winchester has had a full day of flying - which he hates - to get to a destination he’d rather ignore.

Castiel Novak has had a long week at a work conference and is just ready to fly back home.

Both men, exhausted, have an unpleasant first meeting that lasts longer than either of them wanted.

Also Here on Ao3

---

Dean downed the last few drinks of whiskey before rushing through the terminal to the gate. He was out of breath when he got there, but smiled and winked at the attendant scanning his boarding pass. The attendant smiled back, but not without rolling his eyes.

Dean shrugged at him and entered the jetway feeling pretty loose. As he got closer to the plane, though, his heart rate sped up and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He told himself to stop being such a sissy and get a grip.

He found his row in the middle of the plane, only a pretty little thing sitting in the aisle seat. He’d finally get to stretch out instead of being crammed into yet another middle seat - there really was a god.

“‘scuse me, miss.” The woman moved to let Dean into the row. Dean dropped into the window seat and pulled up the shade to look out. He’d absolutely close it once they started moving, but for now, it helped him feel less trapped. The airport workers on the tarmac were struggling to get all of the luggage into the next plane over, entertaining Dean more and more as his whiskey sunk in.

———

“Wait! Wait, I’m here!”

The flight attendant looked up to see a dark-haired man in a trench coat running toward him at the gate.

“Please tell me I can still board!”

“I don’t know, sir. They were just about to close the doors, but I’ll check.”

Castiel tried to catch his breath as the attendant picked up the phone to call the plane. He prayed to any god that would listen that he wouldn’t miss this flight - was there a saint of airplane travel?

“Well, sir, it’s your lucky day.”

Castiel gave the man the most grateful smile he could muster and handed him his boarding pass to scan.

He shuffled down the plane to his row, only to find his window seat taken. He looked at his ticket, then checked the seat number. Yes, there was a man sitting in his seat.

“Excuse me, you’re in my seat.” Castiel was polite, raising his voice only a little to make sure the man would hear him.

Dean looked up and saw pretty blue eyes staring at him. He grinned.

“You can still sit here, I don’t mind sharin.”

Castiel cocked his head, confused for a moment before rolling his eyes.

“Please move.”

“Aw come on, sunshine,” Dean stretched, “I’ve had a long day of middle seats - let me have this window.” Dean winked at him.

Castiel, feeling the opposite of charmed, frowned and furrowed his brow.

“Move.”

“Ugh,” Dean scowled and got up. The woman from the aisle seat was already impatiently waiting in the aisle. Dean shoved against Castiel’s shoulder with his own as he exited the row. “Oops. Sorry.”

Castiel glared at him, but said nothing while he slid in to take his seat and buckle up. Dean dropped down into the seat next to him, yanking his own seatbelt to get it fastened while grumbling under his breath. Castiel could smell the whiskey.

“Ah, that explains it.” Castiel quipped.

“Explains what?” Dean sneered back.

“Maybe you’d be less vile if you hadn’t drank a liquor store before getting on the plane.”

“What did you just say to-“ Dean started to say as he twisted toward the man.

“Ladies and Gentleman, thank you for choosing us as your airline today. Please be sure to have your seats in the upright position, and any of your belongings in the overhead bins or underneath your seat. Soon we’ll also ask you to shut off your electronic devices, or set them to airplane mode.”

Castiel sighed and closed his eyes, resting his temple against the wall.

“What did you just say to me, dick?”

Castiel opened his eyes, but didn’t move. “Nothing.”

Dean let out a humorless laugh. “You suit-and-tie assholes are all the same.”

“Yes, and drunks are all the same as well.”

Dean turned hot and twisted toward Castiel again.

“Ow!” The woman in the aisle seat squeaked. Dean turned back to see he’d bumped her elbow.

“Aw darlin, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just, can we all relax and get through this flight?”

“Well, sure thing, sweetheart. I’m already feelin more relaxed sittin next to you here.”

Castiel couldn’t contain his laugh.

“Okay fucker, that’s it.” Dean unclasped his seatbelt and started to stand.

“Ladies and gentleman, we are sorry to report that there are mechanical problems that must be fixed before this plane can fly. We will need to deplane and everyone will get put on new flights to your destination. Please be patient and listen for announcements in the terminal.”

“Son of bitch!” Dean yelled from his half-standing position. He sunk back down into his seat, defeated.

Castiel sighed and stared at the seatback in front of him. Both men sat in silence, waiting for their turn to exit the plane.

———

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Dean said again to the woman at the airline counter.

“Again, I’m very sorry, sir. Tomorrow is the soonest flight we can get you on.”

“What am I supposed to do tonight? You expect me to just sit here for 12 hours?”

“You are welcome to stay here in the terminal, or here is a list of nearby accommodations that may have availability.”

“Lady, I saw the line I just waited through, pretty sure there’s no vacancies at this point.”

“I’m sorry, sir. Maybe try the nearby hostels here at the bottom? Those usually don’t fill up as quick.”

Dean sighed and took the paper over to an empty spot against the wall. He looked around the terminal, weighing his options. He could try to stay in the terminal, but apparently bad weather in the Northeast grounded some flights and people were everywhere.

Dean shook his head and started making calls on his flip phone. After the first couple hotels were either full or way out of his price range, he finally went to the bottom of the list and called a couple hostels.

“We are actually mostly full, buttt…” Dean sat on the floor in the middle of the airport as he listened to what sounded like a teenage boy humm and tap on a keyboard.

“Yeah so no single rooms available, but looks like we have one spot in a double shared room. So if you’re okay with sharing…”

“Wait, like one bed for two people?” Dean had stayed in many crummy motels in his life, but never at a hostel so he had no idea how they worked.

“Ha, no dude. It’s two single beds in a room.”

Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. A toddler had been having a fit in the terminal for going on 30 minutes. Dean could feel a headache creeping up, especially with the last bit of alcohol leaving his system.

“Fine, yeah, I’ll take it.”

———

Dean checked in at the hostel front desk and got his room key. Music was blaring from a bar on the first level and several young people were milling around, making Dean feel ancient in comparison.

He went up the elevator and through a few halls before finally getting to his room. But his key wouldn’t work. Because of course his key wouldn’t work. He tried it several times, jiggling it this way and that to no avail. He leaned his forehead against the door, eyes closed, and whined out loud to himself.

Or so he thought.

The door opened and Dean fell forward into the man who opened it. The man held out his hands to help steady Dean as he stood up straight.

“Hey, sorry to wake ya man, my key just -“ Dean looked up into familiar blue eyes. “You gotta be shittin me.”

“Wonderful.” Castiel sighed as he walked back into the room, leaving Dean at the open door. “Close the door, please, it took forever for the room to get warm.”

Dean walked in, roughly shutting and locking the door. “Perfect end to a perfect day.”

“Listen, I’m exhausted, you’re exhausted. We’re here to sleep, so let’s just sleep and leave each other alone.”

“Fine by me.”

Castiel got back into his twin bed and turned away from Dean, facing the wall. Dean examined his bed and surroundings. Satisfied there weren’t any biohazards around - none he hadn’t survived before at least - he undressed down to his t-shirt and boxers and lay down. A groan escaped his lips as he was finally able to stretch out.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been laying there before he felt a drip. Then another drip, then faster drips. He finally woke up enough to connect that something wet - please god let it be water - was dripping on him in bed. He jumped out and turned the lights on.

“Unbelievable!”

“What are you doing?” Castiel grumbled.

“There’s a leak. Because of course there’s a leak.”

“A what?” Castiel sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes, adjusting to the light before seeing the trickling stream of water dripping onto the middle of Dean’s bed.

“I’ll be back.” And with that, Dean left the room.

———

The slamming door woke Castiel. He’d tried to stay awake until Dean got back, but ended up falling asleep sitting up.

Dean sat down on the foot of his bed, away from the drip, and roughly raked his fingers through his hair.

“So?”

Dean jerked his head up, but instead of looking angry, he simply looked wrung out.

“So. There are no other rooms. They put a ticket in about the leak, but no one will be out til the morning to fix it. So. I’m fucked.”

Castiel couldn’t help but feel bad for the man. He didn’t know how much better he’d be holding up if it was his bed under the leak. That gave him an idea.

“Why don’t you move the bed?”

Dean looked at him like he was crazy. “Where? You see the size of this room right?”

Castiel stood up, and looked at the room, sizing things up. He paused and thought before presenting his suggestion.

“Just move it to the center.”

“The center?”

“Yeah it should get it out of the way of the leak.”

Dean stood up next to Castiel and looked at the room. He was right, but-

“Dude that puts the bed right up against yours.”

“I’m aware. Look, I’m not thrilled either, but it’s that or the floor. I’m going to bed.”

Castiel got back into his bed and faced the wall again. Dean looked at the floor, then his bed, then Castiel’s back.

There was no option. Dean was not going to sleep on this floor.

The frame scraped on the floor as Dean pushed and pulled it over to the center of the room. He laid down and looked over at his sleeping roommate. It wasn’t so bad. I mean, it wasn’t that many hours ago that he wanted to get up close and personal to him after looking into his baby blues. Felt like an eternity ago, though.

What a long day. Three flights, middle seats, layovers, drinking to ease his nerves, drinking to bury any thought of what he was journeying toward.

But the drinks were long gone and now he lay in a dark, musty room with the faint sounds of dance music coming up through the floor, and the soft breathing of a stranger sleeping next to him.

Bobby was gone. Dean would never see him again. Never be able to call him with a question about a car or for updates on family friends or stories about his long gone parents.

His second dad was gone.

Dean didn’t even realize he was crying until a sob escaped. He tried to stifle the rest.

“Are you okay?” The man next him asked, voice deep with sleep.

“Yeah. Sorry.” Dean quickly wiped the moisture from his cheeks, as if that would hide the sounds that already gave him away. He heard shuffling next to him.

“You’re not. What’s wrong?” The man’s voice was clearer and a little closer now that he wasn’t facing the wall.

Dean huffed out a laugh. “Why do you care? We’re strangers. It’s fine man, go to sleep.”

There was a brief moment of silence and Dean thought the man had taken his advice.

“I’m Castiel. Novak. What’s your name?”

Dean turned his head toward Castiel’s voice. “Uh, Dean. Dean Winchester? Why?”

Castiel shrugged in the dark. “We’re not strangers anymore. Will you tell me what’s wrong now?”

Dean smiled. He had to give it to the guy. Clever.

“Eh. Just life. And death, I guess.”

“Death?”

Dean didn’t know why he was still talking to this jackass, but he was tired and it felt a bit like confession. A dark room where he didn’t have to look anyone in the eyes while he talked.

“My Uncle. He died. It’s uh, why I’m flying. His funeral.”

“I’m so sorry. I take it you were close?”

“Yeah, you could say that. He was like a second dad, I guess. Especially after my dad died.”

“That’s so hard. I’m glad you had someone to spend time with after your dad.”

Dean fell quiet at that. Thinking of all the times he probably could have traveled back to spend more time with Bobby, but didn’t.

“I’m sorry, I’m prying. It’s in my nature, and I forget sometimes that it’s not always appropriate.”

“No, it’s. It’s fine. It’s been a bit since I’ve seen him is all. I hate flying, and you know, a ton of other bullshit excuses. It’s been awhile.”

“You hate flying?”

“It’s unnatural, man! A giant metal tube that weighs, I-don’t-even-know-how-much, shouldn’t be in the sky.”

“Oh, so you have a phobia.”

Dean sighed. He hated that he had a fear of anything. “Yeah. I guess.”

“You really loved him - you’re pushing through your fear to get to his funeral. He knew that you loved him too.”

Dean turned onto his side, mirroring Castiel’s position. “How would you know?”

“Parents know. It’s normal to feel like you didn’t see them enough when they die, Dean. But parents know their children love them.”

Dean swallowed to fight back more tears as he thought about Bobby as his parent. And hoped that what this man said was true, that Bobby knew how much he meant to him. He cleared his throat.

“So uh, what about you, what are you flyin the friendly skies for?”

“I’m heading home actually. Was at a conference for work.”

“And what does Catstiel - Casteel? Do for work?

Castiel chuckled, “it’s Cas-ti-el. And I’ll tell you, but don’t panic.”

“What? Are you a contract killer or somethin?”

Castiel smiled. “Mmm. Much worse. I’m a Psychiatrist.”

Dean lifted his head from the pillow, his mouth opened but no words came. A laugh burst out instead.

“So you been shrinkin my head this whole time? That’s slick, doc.”

“Thanks for the compliment? I think? But no, I haven’t been analyzing you. We’re just talking. I’m a normal person.”

“Well if your attitude on the plane earlier is any indicator then yes, you’re a normal person.”

“MY attitude? You’re the one that tried to charm me out of my seat and then turned aggressive when I didn’t acquiesce.”

Castiel’s calm, playful tone took Dean off guard, keeping this from turning into an actual argument.

“Well, you’re the one who resorted to name-calling.”

“I did not.”

“Dude, you basically called me a drunk.”

“Were you drunk?

“That’s besides the point.”

“Well, I apologize for calling you a drunk. I should have been more specific in my statement.”

Dean chuckled and sighed. He felt just a little lighter than a few minutes ago. It was a nice reprieve.

“So you thought I was charming, huh?”

Castiel rolled his eyes and a yawn overtook him unexpectedly.

Dean sighed. “Yeah we should get back to sleep.”

“You sure? We can talk more if you need, I don’t mind.” Castiel tried to stifle another yawn.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Um. Thanks for. Just. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Dean.” Castiel reached over and gently squeezed Dean’s shoulder before turning onto his back to sleep. “Good night.”

“Night, doc.”

———

Dean slowly stirred from sleep, feeling warm and safe. His face rested on a smooth shoulder as he breathed in the faint scent of cologne. The chin resting on the top of his head moved slightly, ruffling his hair and waking him fully.

His eyes opened wide as he remembered where he was - in a hostel with the good doctor. He was curled into the side of Castiel, who was laying on his back with his arm outstretched, serving as Dean’s pillow. Dean’s upper leg was slung over one of Castiel’s.

Dean slowly tipped his head up, hoping to find Castiel still asleep.

Those wide blue eyes were very much awake and looking back at him.

They both looked at each other in silence, neither moving a muscle. Dean swallowed and let out nervous laugh.

“Mornin, sunshine.”

“Good morning, Dean.”

Dean moved first to get off the poor man. “Sorry, man, didn’t mean to uh- yeah sorry.” He ran his fingers through his hair and walked over to put his clothes from yesterday back on.

Castiel shimmied across the second bed to get up and get dressed himself.

“No reason to apologize.”

“Alright, but uh, were you watching me sleep?”

Castiel’s cheeks turned pink. “What? No! I had just woken up like you, I swear!”

Dean chuckled. “Dude, I’m just messing with you.”

Both men startled when a loud knock came from the door. “Maintenance!”

“Guess it’s time to go - share a shuttle back to the airport?”

“I’d like that.” Castiel gave Dean the cutest smile that should not be allowed to come from a full grown man.

———

“Well, doc, guess this is it.” Dean stood up, hearing the announcement that his group was boarding now.

Castiel was put on a different flight, leaving an hour after Dean’s.

“Guess it is,” Castiel smiled. Dean thought he looked a little sad, but he was probably imagining that.

“Thanks for the, uh, chat. Have a good trip home.” Dean reached out and shook Castiel’s hand.

“Yes, you have a good trip as well. I mean.”

Dean smiled, “I know what you mean. Thank you.”

Dean turned away, and Castiel panicked, “Wait, Dean.”

Dean turned back, brow raised. “Yeah?”

Castiel pulled his wallet out and grabbed a business card, handing it to dean. Dean read it:

“Good things do happen.” Castiel Novak, MD Psychiatrist

“Damn, you must think I need a lot of help.” Dean half-joked with him.

Castiel’s eyes went wide. “No. Oh no no, um wait.” Castiel plucked the card from his hand. He looked around and then leaned over to a woman sitting nearby. “I’m sorry ma’am, do you have a pen I can borrow?” After digging in her purse for a moment, she handed a pen over to a very grateful Castiel.

Castiel wrote on the back of the card, hesitated, then wrote something else before handing the card back to Dean.

“That’s my personal number. Call me, I mean if you want. If you need someone to talk to about the funeral and everything. Not as a shrink. As a friend.” Castiel’s cheeks were pink once again.

Dean smiled and started to look down at the card when final boarding was called for his flight.

“Shit, Cas, I gotta go. I cannot miss this flight. Thanks again!” Dean ran for the gate.

Dean sat in his window seat - a seat he was sure to request as soon as he arrived at the airport that morning. The plane started to back away from the gate, so Dean searched his pocket for gum to chew during take-off. He felt Castiel’s business card and pulled it out.

He read the card again and then flipped it over to the back. A wide grin broke out on his face as he blushed at the scribbled numbers and note:

Call me  XX

———

It’d been a long week. Lots of shed tears, laughter, hugs, and paperwork. No one talks about the paperwork. Dean was exhausted but he’d made it through. Sammy ended up being able to take time away from his law firm, so having his baby brother there with him helped a lot.

It was Saturday morning, and Dean sat on the porch at Bobby’s house - now Dean’s house according to the will - drinking coffee to keep warm. He pulled out the business card that he’d kept in his pocket all week and dialed the scribbled number on the back.

One ring. Two Rings. Three.

“This is Dr. Novak.”

Dean smiled at hearing that familiar deep voice.

“Mornin, sunshine.”

One beat. Two beats. Three.

“Hello, Dean.”

[impala1967dwinchester]

Dean Winchester: Miracle and Simon

Pairing: Dean W. x Wife!Reader Pov: Dean Warnings: Fluff, a little bit of angst, Dean, dogs, talk of infertility, sadness, overall fluff, comforting Dean, Sam is mention. Summary: Y/n and Dean learn after a long time of trying for children that Y/n is unable to bare a child. With this news, they decide to wait. When Dean comes across two very cute pups how can Dean pass it up? Word Count: 2.3k A/N: Written for band-psychos 1.5 followers writing bingo challenge. This is sad, but good at the same time. By the way, I have absolutely no clue what it's like to be told that I won't be able to have children, so what I may say may be wrong. Also, I'm sorry if this is something that affects you. Square: First Pet

Dean Winchester Master List

Main Master List

Tag list: @band--psycho @akshi8278 @deanswaywardgirl @hit-meup69 @doctorlilo @fofisstilinski @wonderfulworldofwinchester

Month, turned into years of trying for a baby. It was okay in the beginning, but it turned into constant disappointment. Not disappointed in Y/n or myself. Just overall disappointment in the situation.

How we had been stripped of the ability to have kids. Y/n being stripped of the chance of being the best mother I know she can be. I felt more hopeless, and helpless than I had in any other part of my life.

My darling wife unable to bare a child, unable to be the most gifted thing in life. Unable to become a mother. That day was horrific, She cried in my arms and spent the drive back home in silence.

She stayed away, she had moved back into her old room. Forcing everything that we had built to be crushed. She pushed everything and everyone away.

It was horrible, she wore her ring still. Years of marriage, years of trying. Years of our life being shut out. Being put behind a wall because she felt as if she wasn't enough, wasn't worth being with.

There were nights of course I'd try and make conversation with her, but it always ended in silence, or in me talking enough for the both of us.

The few months that she pushed me away were the hardest, hearing the loud sobs echo through the halls. Not hearing her voice at all was the worst of it all, not being able to see the bright smile that used to blossom on her face was horrible.

So many things that I wish that I could change for her, so many things that I wish that I could make better. Better for her, better for me, but most importantly better for our relationship.

Finally one night.

Hearing a soft knock on my door, even with it being ajar. "Dean.. Can I come in?" Y/n asked, barely poking her head into my, our room. I was still a little confused on that one.

"Of course honey," I said pulling the bedspread back so if she wished she could climb into bed with me. She walked in slowly, not bothering to shut the door behind her.

She wore an old shirt of mine, sleep shorts, and her slippers. She looked just like she has always looked comfortable, but the look on her face was a displacement of how she looked. Her voice was white, heavy purple and black circles under her eyes, her face even looked a little bit too skinny.

Y/n say slipping her slippers off before climbing to the bed with me. "Hey." She said timidly like, "Hey baby," I said. During the time she had taken to be by herself, I had done more than enough research about what happened when women learned that they were infertile.

How they need space, or how they didn't like to be touched, how they could have outbursts of many different emotions. It's been five months and now Y/n's back in our bed. I'm hesitant to touch her, I think she can tell.

"Let me first say that"

"I missed you"

We spoke at the same time, speaking at the same was something that we always tended to do... God to hear her voice was amazing, like cutting butter so smooth and calming. She was so perfect to me no matter what was going on outside of this moment right now.

I smiled, and Y/n smiled back at me. It wasn't a full smile, but it was true and halfway there. "Do you want me to go first?" I asked not wanting to push her if she wasn't fully comfortable with it.

But if she wasn't comfortable with it then she wouldn't have come to my... our room and sat down next to her husband. Right? 'Stop asking so many questions.'

"If you want to Dean." She said her voice starting to waver. She's going to start crying, start talking Dean.

"I'm going, to be honest with you here. I don't know what to say.' Smiling afterward, ' I... I want you to know that you aren't alone in this, I know now that you needed your space, I want you to know that no matter what you think I don't blame you at all, not once. Because I'll forever love you. I've also been reading a lot,' Y/n was smiling now, raising her eyebrows at my reading comment. 'Anything for you Y/n you know that, but regardless I've been doing some reading on this situation, how this may affect us, you and myself. I just want you to know that I'm here for you." I said finally shutting my mouth.

She didn't look like she was going to cry anymore. Y/n was smiling a bright tooth-grinning smile. "You know Dean even when you don't know what to say you always manage to say the right thing, every single fuckin' time," She said through her smile.

Is it weird to say, but I know when Y/n is at her most happy because she curses. She spouts out every single bad curse word there is known to man. Just to tell you how happy she truly is.

God, I missed her smile. You don't realize just how much you miss something or even need it until it stops coming into your life and then comes back into your life a bullet.

I reached out to touch her, but I'm still hesitant. Very hesitant she most definitely saw that. When I went to take my hand back to my lap, she reached out grabbing my hand.

She's so soft, and her hands god how I've forgotten how much smaller her hands are to mine. Look at her hands, look at that ring, still shiny and glistening under the light of our room. That ring I think is what brought her back to me, no scratch that I think our love for each other is brought her back to me.

I had been looking for weeks after Y/n finally came back. Everything needs to settle down before I can even prompt the question to her. I want her to feel safe, I don't her to feel pressured or like I might be trying to replace the idea of children.

I again dived in and did the research for my idea. Sam even helped me, helped me to try and find the right one for her and me. Sam knows a lot of things but he especially knows this about me. When I do something I do it all the way, no half-assing anything and that only becomes ten times more when Y/n is thrown into the situation.

Doing the best research I could with the help of my brother of course. I found the best thing, not something I necessarily like the idea of but anything to help Y/n.

Anything for her.

They passed my screen, and before I knew it I was scrolling back up to them. In the loud and bold letter, it read.

These two come together, a pit bull and a golden retriever. Price is free, just come and pick them up today.

It just clicked, you ever have those types of moments. Where you can feel deep down in your mind, and body. Gosh, I'm really starting to get more and more like Sam.

I shouldn't say that because honestly, that's how it was for me when I first met Y/n. But that is most definitely a story for another time. I jumped from my seat sending the library chair to slide and then fall against the tile floor.

"Are you okay?" I heard Y/n's sweet voice ringing from behind me. 'Shit I forgot' "Yeah I'm fine, I just remember that I forgot to grab something when I was out earlier," I said, turning jamming my phone in my back pocket, calmly walking over to her, and kissing her temple saying bye.

I rushed, driving down the gravel road that leads to home sweet home. If nobody knew what I was doing they'd probably all think I was trying to get away from a murder that I just committed.

The drive to pups was silent. I'd driven baby so many times alone, but this time it just felt different. My impala was the first one parked, a few people close behind me. I rushed up to the fairly older man. He looked over my shoulder, he huffed before waving the other people off.

"Now listen heree son, I'm given' you 2 pups for nothing, so I don't want to hear anything." He said stepping down the porch and walking in front of me to the red broke down barn.

"They're in here. All yours." He said pulling back the door and then walking back to his barn house. Pointing in a very general area, there were 2 pups as the old man called them. Curled up into each other, 'cute' I thought to myself.

'I've already been gone for too long, hurry up Dean.' I said to myself. "Do they respond to commands? Like come, or no?" I asked as I slouched down to the height or near height of them. He hummed and said a few things under his breath.

"Come here," I said gently, just like if I were talking to Y/n. I know that as husband and wife you're supposed to talk about things before you just go outright and do them, but I kind of figured that Y/n wouldn't have any cons to having some furry children. It would most definitely take her mind somewhere else for the moment.

Waking them up from their shallow sleep, they were both wary at first, but grow to be giving me kisses had me rolling around on the dirty ground.

"Come on son!" The old man said. I jumped up from the ground dusting my clothes off and whistling for the dog's attention. "Let's go" They followed us out of the barn and chased after each other. There was no need for a transaction seeing as he just wanted them gone.

I whistled again, both chasing each other and coming to a fast stop in front of me. I was hesitant to let these pups in my baby, but anything for my girl, for her happiness, anything for her.

Both jumping up and finding a comfy spot and laying down. I speed back home, I'd already been gone for much longer than I originally wanted.

I once again speed down the gravel road heading to my home sweet home. Parking in the garage caused the pups to raise their heads. That being the first time, at least they don't complain about my driving like Sam does. That's rather nice.

I opened the back door and let both of them slip out. Yes at that moment I had realized that I had in fact told nobody of my plans, and I also had nothing to give them food-wise.

Letting them into the bunker they seemed to feel at home, but the more odd thing was that they didn't seem to care about anything other than finding Y/n.

An odd moment, it's like Sam said years ago sometimes animals can sense evil, so why can't they sense happiness or even sadness. I wonder?

The two of them led their own ways to the door of our bedroom. "Sit," I said quietly. They looked at each other and sat down, well actually they laid down.

I knocked and then came in seeing at it was also my room. "When'd you get back?" Y/n's honey slick voiced asked. "Just a few moments ago, love...." There was a comfortable silence between us, but Y/n always knows.

"What are you hiding Winchester?" She asked, pulling the sheets from her body. 'No don't get out of bed' "I need you to stay in bed for this surprise if you will." I said gesturing her to lay back down. " Be ready okay?" I said opening the door,

There sat a golden retriever and a pit bull. I heard her gasp "Dean?!". Behind me I saw the two dogs slowly sit up fully, they looked over at me, then over at Y/n.

I nodded and whistled. The pitbull was the first one to reach Y/n his nose nudging her arm. "Dean?" I heard again, so I turned I was smiling, the dog has already made a way onto her lap. "We.. are.. you." Y/n was most definitely stumbling over her words.

"Yes, they're ours. I thought that if we y'know. We could find a way to take care of something. I think he likes you, baby." I said walking all the way into the room having the golden following close behind me. "Yeah and I think she likes you, Dean." She said, patting the pits head.

"They need names," I said nodding to let the golden know that it was okay for her to jump up on the bed. I want my bed to remember them too, cause my bed is memory foam.

"Miracle and Simon. What do you think." Y/n said resting her hand on top of the pits head. "Whos who?" I asked, Y/n pointed at the dog taking up most of my lap, "That's Miracle" then moving and pointing over the sleeping pup in her lap snoring "This, sweet boy is Simon." She said a single tear falling down her cheek.

"What's wrong honey?" I asked "I know that I didn't even ask you if this was okay," I said worrying as more tears fall down her soft warm-toned cheeks.

"Nothing is wrong Dean, I just remembered that I wanted to maybe name our son Simon when we finally got pregnant." She said, I wiped her stray tears and said, "We've got our son and daughter just in fur version. And being together is enough for me." Kissing her forehead. A whispered, "Thank you Deanie Beanie." I rolled my eyes and kissed her forehead again.

Completed on: 05/24/2021

Posted on 05/25/2021

[mamabearcatfanfics]

Battle Couple

I've had this little idea for a while, and then decided I could bend it slightly to fit this year's @inukag-week's first battle couple prompt. Because not all battles we face have to be huge ones against a deadly foe. Sometimes the battles can simply be standing up for what's right.

Inuyasha dragged the beanie down tighter over his head, stomping towards the exit of the store. He hated this. This is why he bought things online and had them delivered. Because then he could avoid interactions like he’d just had with that racist arsehole. He glanced down at the text from Sesshoumaru again, wondering if there was some other way he could get this gift for Rin. It was the first time his half-brother had thrown a birthday party for his adopted daughter, and no doubt it would be a big deal.

Rin has expressed an interest in this item. Her birthday party is on Saturday at 10am. Do not be late.

And of course the toy Rin had asked for was sold out everywhere online. The tiny dolls with light up dresses and a matching crystal necklace were apparently ‘the’ toy at the moment. She specifically wanted the purple one, the ‘hope’ doll, because it was her favourite colour, and she already had the other dolls in the set. This was the last one she needed. And he hadn’t been able to find it anywhere. He was failing as an Uncle. The last store he’d been to, he’d practically seen a pair of mothers come to blows arguing over the last CrystalShines doll on the shelf.

He was close to the exit of the store when an intriguing scent wafted past his nose. It was another store employee, dressed in the dark polo shirt and black jeans, with one of those ear walkie talkies they all seemed to wear. She was giggling, talking to someone using the button on her mike, her other arm full of a variety of women’s clothing that she was putting back on the racks. Her arms were a blur as she began sorting them into different sizes, working quickly to make each rack neat and tidy.

He watched as she flitted about the store, talking to a customer, smiling and waving at a baby in a pram, folding jumpers and t-shirts. His eyes were drawn to her dark ponytail; the way it swung as she moved was almost hypnotic. Her glossy hair was black, but had a blue sheen to it under the harsh fluorescent lighting, and he had a sudden urge to reach out and touch it, stroke down the length of the swinging tail to see if it was as soft and silken as it looked.

Without even realising it, he followed her, almost bumping into her as she suddenly spun around to go in a different direction.

“Oh! Good evening sir, can I help you with anything?”

There was a pleasant smile on her face, and she was looking at him expectantly. His voice didn’t seem to want to work now he was actually standing close to her, so he turned around his phone, showing her the picture of the doll.

“This is what you’re looking for?”

“Yeah”, he said softly, his eyes focused on hers as she glanced up at him again. He’d never seen anyone with grey eyes before. It seemed they were lit from within like starlight, and now that he was closer to her, she smelt even better. He cleared his throat, trying to get a hold of himself. “My niece wants one of these for her birthday, and I’m having trouble finding one.”

“Okay”, she said, reaching for the button on her headset to talk to the other employees on the shop floor. “Let me just talk to my colleague in the toy department, and I’ll see if we’ve got that item in stock.”

❤

Kagome watched as the man in front of her visibly deflated.

“Don’worry about it then. Already talked to ‘im.”

And then she got it. Ryan was working the toy department tonight. Ryan the racist bigot who didn’t like interacting with any customers who weren’t white, male, good ol’ boys, exactly like him. Usually he worked out the back in the store room, unpacking shipments, but due to the flu going around and the shortage of staff, the evening shift manager had put him on the floor tonight. And he’d no doubt said something innaproppriate to this gorgeous man in front of her, who obviously had some sort of youkai heritage.

She’d had her own run-ins with Ryan. He’d said many cruel things to her over the past six months, since he’d found out what happened a few years ago, cruel enough to make her run to the safety of the women’s toilets to shed a few silent tears in private. He never bullied her in a place where others could overhear, he always cornered her in dark places where there was no one else around. He frightened her. Jak knew she was uncomfortable around him, and did his best to make sure they were never rostered on at the same time, so it had been a while since she’d had to deal with him.

She took in the golden eyes, fangs and the beanie yanked down hard over his long silver hair, but it was the resigned bitter look on his face that caught at her heart. She knew that feeling. Internally Kagome fumed, but outwardly she hoisted her brightest smile onto her face, wanting to make it up to him. She could fix this!

“Wait. I don’t know the toy department that well, but I’m sure I could help. Just give me a moment to put these things down.”

He followed her to a wheeled rack in the aisle where she hung all the clothing in her arms back up, and then turned to him, smiling brightly again.

“Let’s go to the toy department and see if we can’t find this doll for your niece. When’s her birthday?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Oh dear, that doesn’t give you much time to find one!”

“I’ve been lookin’ all week. Online stores have sold out.”

“Well, hopefully we’ll have one in stock. Let’s see, the doll aisle is around here somewhere.”

They walked together down the aisle, both scanning the shelves for the tiny dolls.

“They should be around here”, said Kagome, her finger running along the price labelling on the edge of the shelf, her eyes lighting up as she found the right tag, but sighing in disappointment as she found the shelf empty.

“Yeah”, sighed Inuyasha. “I asked the guy around here if he could find out if there were any more out the back or somethin’ and he, ah…”

“Don’t worry”, said Kagome, a determined look on her face, “I will personally go take a look in the store room for you. Just wait here for me sir.”

“Inuyasha.”

“Huh?”

He coughed a little, his head turning to the side to avoid her direct gaze. “My name, it’s Inuyasha.”

“Oh. Right. Just wait here for me Inuyasha, and I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks Kagome.”

She blinked in confusion as he said her name, wondering how he’d known it, then realised he had read her name tag.

For some reason him saying her name out loud made her stomach swoop, like she was on a roller coaster, even though her feet were firmly planted on the ground. As he gave her a shy smile, she felt her cheeks begin to heat, and she whirled around, making a beeline for the storage room, talking into the mike on her headset as she left.

“Hey Jak, it’s Kagome – just going out to the store room for a moment for a customer. I’ll get right back on those returns as soon as I’m done, okay?”

“Oooh, tell me it’s the hottie with the white hair that I pointed out to you!”

“Jak!”

“Oh it is! Take your time honey!”

“You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“And you love me for it. Make sure you get his name and number before he goes!”

“Jak!”

“For the customer form darlin’, what else did you think I meant?”

She could hear him still sniggering as she released the talk button on her mike, and she shook her head, grinning despite herself. He was her in-line manager and they got on really well, but rarely got to spend time together, as he was usually rostered on during the day, and her in the evenings so her day was free for lectures and study.

Kagome squeezed her way into the storeroom, scanning the aisles of stock yet to be placed out on the shelves. And then she saw it, the edge of a box with a picture of a tiny doll up on the highest shelf.

Dragging over the step ladder, she placed it under the shelf and climbed up, her petite size meaning she had to stand on the very top to have any chance of reaching the box. She just managed to reach the doll with the tips of her fingers, and nudged it. It tipped forward and fell, and with a gasp she managed to catch it with her outstretched hand, teetering on the top of the ladder, her other arm windmilling frantically to keep her balance.

She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her frantically beating heart after her almost fall, the box containing the doll clutched tightly against her. But she’d found one for him, a purple one, just like he’d wanted. She had no idea why that made her feel so incredibly happy, but it did.

Grinning widely as she emerged from the storeroom, she began walking directly to the toy department. She could see Inuyasha there, waiting for her. But she could also see Ryan, his arms crossed as he spoke to him, a sneer on his face. She quickened her pace. Previous experience had taught her that expression couldn’t mean anything good.

❤

Inuyasha stood his ground, hands clenched in tight fists by his sides. He had every right to be here – he was a customer, he hadn’t caused any commotion or damage. Kagome had asked him to wait here. But apparently that wasn’t good enough for this guy.

“I told you already, we’ve got none of what your looking for. Nothing for you. Are you deaf, or just stupid?” The volume of his voice wasn’t loud enough to draw anyone’s attention to them, but definitely loud enough to get on Inuyasha’s nerves.

Inuyasha closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his hands shaking slightly as he held back. He would not punch out this idiot – this was a department store, not a battle ground. Even though he deserved it because he was a racist bigoted shit.

“I already told you to leave youkai! Do I have to call security?”

Inuyasha breathed out slowly, trying to keep any trace of anger out of his voice, even though he wanted to let rip. He’d found out the hard way that security tended to not ask questions, just see his youkai traits and assume the worst.

“And I already told you, another employee was taking a look out the back for me. She told me to wait here for her.”

“Yeah, like I’d believe anything one of you would have to say. You’re all the same. What are hidin’ under that hat huh? Some kinda weird freakish thing I’d bet. ”

“Inuyasha!”

Inuyasha turned, his eyes lighting up as Kagome appeared. But she wasn’t wearing the wide smile she had when she left. She was stomping towards them, a box tucked tightly under her arm, the scowl on her face impressive. Thankfully that scowl was not directed at him.

He could smell the nervousness pouring off of her, but you never would have thought it looking at the way she faced off with her work colleague, stepping in front of him like she wanted to shield him from this man's ire with her much smaller body.

“Ryan, I’m handling this customer. And I’ve already found what he needed, so there’s no reason for you to be here. I think you’ve probably said enough.”

There was the barest trace of a tremble in her voice, and Inuyasha moved in closer behind her, wanting her to feel like he was there to support her. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but he didn’t like it.

Ryan rolled his eyes and then sneered at her, his voice low and vicious.

“Ha. Shoulda known it would be you Kagome. Such a helpful little kiss ass. Why don’t you turn that cute little tush of yours around and head back to the ladies department where you belong, unless you’re still that desperate for some demon tail.”

“What?”

Ryan grinned at the shocked expression on Kagome’s face, posturing like he’d somehow scored a point. “Bit ironic really, you working in the ladies department when you’re anything but. A human ain't good enough for Kagome, huh? Wasn’t it bad enough that the last guy you had got fired, now you’re after customers too? You really are a-“

“Don’t. Say. Another. Word.”

Both Kagome and Ryan flinched at the snarled words behind them.

“Kagome, call your manager”, said Inuyasha gruffly. “I wanna report this guy.”

“It’s my word against yours demon, and little Kagome’s not gonna say anything, are you Kagome, because you’re fuckin’ pathetic. There’s nothin’ you can report me for”, snorted Ryan.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’d probably pick being a racist arsehole, for starters”, said another voice cheerfully. "Then maybe we could add workplace harassment."

A tall man in a tailored suit stepped into view, his dark hair slicked back into a short ponytail. He was holding his phone up, obviously still recording the whole thing.

“Here I was, minding my own business in the Lego aisle while I looked for the perfect birthday gift for my little girls, and what should I hear? An employee bad mouthing a customer, when the customer had been nothing but polite and civil. Don’t worry about proof, I’m happy to be a witness. I was recording the whole thing. From the very first racist slur that left your lips.”

Kagome’s eyes were wide as she glanced from the ponytailed man back to Ryan, and Inuyasha could hear her heart beating frantically. He nodded at her approvingly as she took a deep breath, her hand steady on the button on her headset.

“Jak, it’s Kagome”, she said, her voice a little breathless, but firm. “Can you-“

Ryan lunged towards her.

“Don’t you dare, you fuckin’ bitch!”

Inuyasha ducked out from behind Kagome, his fist grabbing the back of Ryan’s shirt and lifting him into the air, Ryan’s legs kicking frantically as he tried to escape. Before Kagome could move out of the way, his steel capped boot caught her on the chin. She dropped like a stone, crumpling to the floor in a heap.

“Fuck, Kagome!”

Inuyasha swung Ryan out of the way and dropped him none too gently, all his focus on the small woman laying prone on the slightly grubby linoleum floor, still out for the count. He could hear a scuffle behind him as the man in the suit and a few other observers struggled to keep Ryan contained, but he no longer cared about him. He knelt down close to her, gently stroking the glossy dark hair back from her face.

“Kagome, can you hear me?”

Inuyasha shook Kagome’s shoulder gently, trying to rouse her, and her eyes fluttered open.

“Inuyasha?” she said groggily, her arm tightening around the box, a wobbly smile on her face. “I got your doll.”

❤

It took a while to sort everything out. An ambulance was called, and the police. The police took statements from Inuyasha, Kagome and the man in the suit, Miroku. Ryan was fired on the spot, and Jak was positively gleeful, despite the mountain of paperwork he’d have to fill out before he went home that evening. When the paramedic suggested that Kagome should go to the hospital to be checked for possible concussion, Inuyasha had immediately said he’d like to go with her, if that was alright with Kagome, and after a few polite remarks about it not being necessary, she’d gratefully accepted. Jak had positively pushed them into the ambulance together, waving them off with a bright smile. It was the most exciting evening shift he’d had in years.

❤

“You don’t have to stay you know. I’ll be fine, I’ll just get an Uber home.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall, his arm resting on the edge of Kagome's hospital bed.

“For the tenth time woman, I don’t mind. I want to be here when the doctor examines you to make sure you’re okay. And then I wanna make sure you get home safe.” He sighed as he looked at the dark purpling bruise on Kagome’s chin. “I’m just sorry I didn’t throw that fucker down to the end of the aisle when I had the chance.”

“But it’s so late! It’s almost 2am, and you have the party to go to tomorrow. Today I mean.”

“Eh, that’s hours away. She won’t mind if I’m a little late, Rin’s a nice kid. And now I have the perfect present, thanks to you.”

Kagome was quiet for a while. The silence grew to feel uncomfortable, because Inuyasha could sense how tense Kagome suddenly was.

“Inuyasha… I want to explain. About what Ryan said to me.”

“Hmm?” He could smell nervousness again, billowing around her like a cloud, and he didn’t like it. “Doesn’t matter, none of my business.”

“But I want to”, she said, her voice taking on a stubborn edge.

“Fine, I’ll listen. But nothin’ you can say will change my good opinion of you. You stepped up for me back there Kagome, and that don’t happen for me much. I will always remember that.”

Kagome reached out her hand to lightly grasp the clawed one sitting next to her on the bed, and squeezed it.

“Thank you.”

He squeezed back.

“You’re welcome.”

“Anyway”, she sighed. “About what Ryan said. I started working at that department store when I was still in high school, as a weekend job. And there was this training manager, a kitsune. He’d come around every so often, and all the girls thought he was really good looking. He had a little green sports car; a lot of the other girls thought was really important. They all were flirting with him, and then he asked me out. I was so surprised. I mean, me! I’m nothing special! He was so stylish, and so charming. I really thought…” Kagome laughed but it had no humour in it, and Inuyasha squeezed her hand again. She shrugged, her shoulders coming up around her ears as her face turned away from him.

“I was so stupid! It turned out I was right about being nothing special, because he was going out with a couple of girls at every store that he visited.” She flinched a little at Inuyasha’s low growl of disapproval. “There were around ten of us. And because a couple of us were under aged, he was charged. Lost his job. Ryan found out about it a few months ago and thought-“

“Don’t say it”, said Inuyasha gruffly, squeezing her hand again. “Don’t matter what he thought. It’s in the past. And the Kagome I saw tonight was amazing.”

“No I wasn’t!” Kagome shook her head, then winced as her head throbbed, realising that was a bad idea. “I was so scared Inuyasha! I’ve never been able to stand up to him before. But I couldn’t stand the thought of him being mean to you!”

“Then you’re even braver than I thought.” Inuyasha entwined his fingers with hers, and cleared his throat. “Kagome, I know you don’t know me. But I think I’d like to get to know you. Could I call you? Maybe we could go out for coffee or somethin’? I mean you don’t gotta answer, and if you don’t wanna, I totally understand, I mean-“

“Yes.” Kagome giggled at the wide toothy grin on Inuyasha’s face. “Give me your phone and I’ll put my number in.”

“Wait. Maybe you should see what all’a me looks like before you say yes.”

Inuyasha tugged off his beanie, revealing the pointed white dog ears on top of his head. “If you wanna change your mind, I-“

“They’re so cute!” squeaked Kagome. “Please give me your phone!”

❤

Kagome woke up the next morning very late, so late that it was no longer morning at all.

It had been 3am by the time Inuyasha had dropped her home with a bag of painkillers and the Doctor’s instructions for treating her mild concussion. He’d helped her into bed, placed her medicine and a glass of water next to the bed for her, kissed her softly on the cheek and whispered goodnight, closing the door behind him.

She rubbed her cheek gently at the memory of that small kiss, a smile on her face. She still had a headache, so she took two of the tablets, then reached for her phone on the bedside table where it had been charging.

There were two messages.

The birthday girl loves her present! Attached was a picture of a smiling Inuyasha kneeling with his arm around a little girl in a checked orange party dress and sparkly sandals, her dark hair up in pig tails. A wide excited grin split her face, revealing the gap of a missing front tooth. The doll was clutched tightly in her hand, and she was wearing the necklace that came with it.

I told Rin how brave you were, and she wanted you to have some birthday cake. Can I bring some over when you wake up? 🍰

Kagome smiled almost as wide as Rin, despite her headache.

I’d love you to ❤