#and man. a real desk would have drawers. and i could get rid of some of the clutter in there

[aidenwaites]

I need to work Writing At Home into my daily routine so I can make progress on typing up the Jack Rabbit script but it's,,, not easy

[pbandjesse]

I am glad I had the day off. It was a good one even if I was a bit to overheated.

Some of the issue was it was just so hot in here last night. Firstly I had a cut on my foot and I put a sock on to try to protect it and it did not help. Because then I was just hotter and woke up in the middle of the night so uncomfortable. Like dizzy uncomfortable. I put a fan on and it helped a little but man. I was not having fun. Thankfully I did get to sleep and it would cool off eventually.

James says they also didn't sleep well. But they would say goodbye and went to work and I slept a little longer.

When I woke up I would lay in bed for a little while. But would get up and make the bed. And go and wash up and I felt like myself again. I am happy about that. Apparently just trimming my bangs helped a lot. I also just felt real cute in my jumpsuit.

I got right into cleaning. I need to borrow the vacuum we gave to Mr Will to get in all of our corners and stuff. But for now I just vacuumed and did all the surfaces and sprayed down the bathroom. I put the winter rugs in the bedroom away. I Swiffered and used the last two pads so I made a note to get more. It felt nice in here.

I would also spend a lot of time cleaning in the studio. I cleaned and organized my desk a bit. I did not do anything about the drawers but it's fine. I got a box from the recycling and just put a lot of junk in it and put it on the shelf. Did I actually deal with anything? No. But it made me feel better.

Me and James are starting to think about getting a house and I'm like. Very much excited about thinking about moving to a new space, even if it wouldn't be for a while. So I'm also going to hopefully start getting rid of but it's so hard!! So instead I organized my box of glues and tapes. And reorganized the yarn shelves so now I was able to move all my glues and tapes there into three boxes (one all tape, one all glue, one for just got glue guns because I have 5 of them). And I'm very happy with it all.

I would end up texting with a realtor that got my number from one of the sites I was looking at. And he was really nice and answered some questions I had, specifically about percents and savings and FHA loans. So me and James's plan seems feasible. Still scary?? But exciting scary. And it's nice to have a plan.

I would work on fixing some bears and finishing some others. I'm going to bring them to the market to finish sewing tomorrow, but the have faces and are stuffed. Success.

I would chill on the couch and eat jello. Eventually I got bored though and decided I would just go get the Swiffer pads and the trash bags we needed now and maybe tacobell.

But just as I was putting on my shoes Mr Will knocked on the door to add some new caulk to the tub. So I sat with him while he did that and told.me about the repairs he's doing on the other apartments because people aren't taking care of things. He said I do a good job and keep it nice he even commented on how clean it looked today. Thank you Will, I just cleaned two hours ago.

He also said that he'll look at the paddle board in the basement and if it's from the couple that moved a few years ago I can have it! Neat!!!

Once he was done we left together. He said my hair is getting long, and that he has none. Silly man.

I headed to gleb bernie. Which is technically the 4th closest target but it would put me closer to the museum where I could pick up James.

Speaking of the musuem I was texting with Jessica and because the school group canceled on Monday that means I already had my last educator day at the museum for the foreseeable future!! That's so sad!! I'm still going to be there all the time, but still makes me a little sad.

I would have a nice time walking around target. And I did good just getting what I came for. And a cup with strawberries. And a tank top (that was the missing part of a two piece set I had gotten the skirt for in February!!). And I had a very good coupon.

I got Starbucks and then went and got tacobell. So I could have them together. And my Starbucks was correct so it makes up for last week's being so very wrong. And my tacobell was good but was missing a sauce I asked for. Ah well.

I went and ate that in the museum parking lot while I waited for James. But once I was done eating I got to hot sitting in the sun. So I went to sit on the benches outside the musuem with Angie. Who has finally picked a retirement date before she moves to Arizona to be with her son. I'm so happy for her. She deserves the rest. I hope the last few months are good for her, because man has it not been lately. I always love working with her. But the job lately has been hard and I get her wanting to go.

James would get done and kick the door open dramatically. Which was very funny. They decided to leave the bike in the musuem and we drove home together.

I started to not feel so hot. Overtired and to warm. I was very happy to be back here.

James would put the AC in the bedroom. We finally caved. But they put the wrong one in there and so then I had to ask them to change it and I felt bad but we have the correct one now and it's much nicer.

I would hang out on the couch for a long time. And while James was recording their podcast I took a bath and washed my hair. My hair always gets to dry when I do that but it's fine. I'll add more conditioner and oil before I go to bed.

I finally went to lay on the AC and it has been nice. Just laying with James. Sometimes Sweetp is here. I am tired but not overly so. I have a long day tomorrow but I think it will be good. It might even rain a little in the middle which we need so bad. Everything is dusty and covered in pollen. I just want it to be a nice day.

I hope you are all having a good day. I love you all. Goodnight!!

[andilovetowrite]

Webs and Awkwardness P.P

Peter Parker x Bestfriend! Reader

Summary: Walking into your best friend’s room to find out he is Spiderman is terrible as it is, but what comes after is even worse, when Peter rips your t-shirt in the process…

Based on this prompt

Warnings: A couple of bad words (Mostly from May) and a little suggestiveness. Supportive Aunt May, and flustered Peter ;)

Word Count: 1.9k words

Posted May 2, 2021

Here is my Masterlist, in case you wanted to check it out :)

“Hey Aunt May!” you greeted, walking into the apartment. She smiled, hugging you.

“Good evening Y/N!” She gestured over to the pile of books in your arms. “Studying for a test?”

Nodding tiredly, you answered. “Physics...and Peter is probably the only one in the class who is passing. So I desperately need his help.”

Aunt May laughed, pointing to his room. “Thank god he is still doing his work, with being cooped up in his room all the time. Not to mention being so distant after getting that internship from that Stark guy.” She shook her head, primarily to herself. “I don’t like him too much.”

You smiled, thanking her before making your way to Peter’s room, knocking softly. There was no response. You did it again but figured Peter might be too engrossed in making something. So you went in.

And you will never forget the shock that went through your body. In the middle of the room, standing half-naked with only his boxers, was your best friend, Peter Parker. But that wasn’t what shocked you. What made you gasp was the clothing that pooled at his feet. Red and blue. Black lines crisscrossed over it. But even then, you wouldn’t overthink about red and blue clothes. The mask in his palm,, though said everything.

“It’s not-uh not what it looks like!” Peter shouted, haphazardly throwing the mask to the side. It didn’t help his case because the second he threw it, a light red light illuminated the ceiling, showing the iconic logo we all knew. “I’m uh, not- I promise it is not- this it just a- Oh god”,, Peter rambles on, kicking the suit back so harshly that it hits the wall hard, making a small dent before it crumples to the floor.

You could feel your eyes widen, looking at Peter in amazement and then the mask. Almost comically, you come closer, observing his face and then shamelessly looking up and down his body, eyes zeroing on his abs.

“You’re Spiderman. Peter Parker is Spiderman. My best friend is Spiderman.” You say slowly, trying to get it into your head. Peter nodded, trying to judge what you were going to say or do.

“I-”

“It all makes sense now!” you exclaimed, sitting down on the bed, knowing if you kept standing, you were going to pass out or something.

“What?” Peter asked eyebrows scrunched up. Out of all the possible things you could’ve said, that was the least expected one. The most expected one was a hit to the face,, and maybe then you would run out of the apartment.

“It’s- uh- now I understand. How you magically got rid of your glasses,”

“I got contacts”, Peter interjected, biting his lip.

“-no,, you didn’t. I asked May where you got your contacts from,, and she told me you didn’t have any.” Peter looked down, knowing that story went for a toss.

“Then how you also got abs overnight, as well as your overall muscles”, you said, gesturing to his body. Peter became bright red but made no move to put anything on.

“After that, you would never answer my calls in the night. For a bit, I thought you were ignoring me or at some girl’s house-”

“I wasn’t!” Peter shouted, then looked back at the door to see if his aunt heard him.

You nodded, thinking of other things. “Plus, you never speak about the internship, even though it was what you did most of the time.”

Peter hung his head down, now feeling bad about not telling you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just couldn’t let people know who I am and then if they saw Spiderman coming into your house-the-they might start targeting you-an-and you might get hurt. I-I couldn’t live with myself if that happened to you be-because of me.”

You nodded, the seriousness of the situation hitting you suddenly. But in real life, it hit Peter. Well, you hit Peter.

“HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME? BAD GUYS TARGETTING ME IS BAD AS IT IS, BUT THEM TRYING TO KILL YOU?! YOU COULD HAVE ASKED ME FOR HELP! I SWEAR TO GOD PETER PARKER, YOU WOULD WISH THAT THE BAD GUYS HURT YOU AFTER WHAT I DO TO YOU!” you walked closer threateningly. Peter’s eyes widened. No matter who he went against, even if it was Captain America, no one would be more frightening than you when you were mad.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry”, Peter mumbled, moving back further. He didn’t even realize that he was halfway up the wall at this point, his face touching the ceiling.

“Get down here Parker!”

“Okay”, Peter squeaked, jumping down with impressive skills. “I’m s-” He went to apologize again but was cut off by you.

“Come here”, you said softly, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug, feeling his warm skin touch yours.

“Oh, this is nice”, he mumbled, hugging you back.

“You know how I would feel if someone came and told me my best friend died because of saving a city? Do you know how much I would stress out each night about you being Spiderman and fighting people twice or thrice your age?”

“Yeah”, Peter whispered against your skin, lips tickling your neck. “That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

You sighed softly. “But do you know how much it would hurt to know that you got hurt when I couldn’t help you? Just because I didn’t know that you were Spiderman?”

Peter stayed quiet, but his grip on you tensed up, clutching you tightened.

You pulled back, looking him in his chocolate eyes. “Please don’t keep things to yourself. Not with pressure like this. I know the Hulk or Iron Man might be there to help you, but tell me you’re alright. Just every now and then?” By this time, you could feel your throat closing, as you can feel tears prickling the sides of your eyes. Peter nodded, pulling you back in his embrace.

“I will. Plus, who will you come to to get Physics answers if I die?”

“Shut up!”, you laughed, leaving the hug but keeping your arm around his shoulder.

“So Mr Spiderman, how do you stick to buildings? And shoot webs? Do you make webs? Oh my god, are you part spider? Do you grow legs when you are outside fighting crime?”

Peter looked confused, listening to you babble on and on, but then chuckled. “With my suit that Mr Stark made. I make my webs. No I’m not part spider and of course not!”

“Wait, can I see the webs?”, you asked, curiosity blooming in your chest.

Peter shrugged. “Sure” Going over to his desk drawer, he opened it, pulling out a couple fancy technology gadgets. “Here, just press on this button.”

Gingerly taking it from him, you touched the button, not expecting such a light, featherlike touch to make it go on. Suddenly, a white stringy web hit Peter’s hand, jerking him towards you.

“Woah!”, he exclaimed as he banged into you.

“I’m sorry!”

“No probl-” he began, as he pushed himself off you, but one part stuck. His right hand was situated right on your chest, stuck with his web.

“Peter! Get your hand off!”

His mouth opened and closed, looking like a fish. “Uh-I’m sorry, you just- I grabbed onto the first thing, I mean, I didn’t try and grab your boob, oh god- I just-here let me-damn it, two hours.”

“What are you talking about? What’s two hours?” You asked, trying to concentrate on anything but Peter’s calloused hand on your thin shirt.

“Uh, I don’t know how to tell you this but uh-”, Peter looked incredulously at, his hand, quickly glancing at the ceiling. “The web takes two hours to dissolve. And I just ran out of web dissolver…The only one left is on the roof”

“Seriusly? Pete! You can’t...- your hand is on my boob!”

“I’m sorry, I promise, I can’t feel anything. Well, no, I can feel something, but that’s not what I meant! Um-”

You sighed, looking up to see Peter’s face close to your’s. “You’re Spiderman! Just pull your hand off or something?”

“Uh-ye-yeah sure”, he said hesitantly. Giving a couple small tugs, nothing came off, but then he got annoyed, and yanked his hand back.

Not the best decision.

Instead of his hand coming off the shirt, the shirt came with him, tearing off your body. Gasping, you threw your hand to your chest, covering yourself up. “Peter!”

“Oh god, oh my god!” Peter blushed hard, the pink going all the way across his body as he looked at the cut up cloth in his palm. As you tried to find something to cover yourself up with, Peter’s ears twitched.

“Shit!”, he whispered, running over to me. “May is coming here!”

“How the heck can you hear that?”

“Super-hearing…”

“Of course”

“Y/N! May can’t know I’m spiderman! She won’t allow me to do these things otherwise…”

You stuttered, looking around the room. “Quick! Hide the suit.”

Running over to his mask, you grabbed it, throwing it under the bed, while he jumped up and hid his suit in the small slot on the roof. Hearing her footsteps now, you ran over to Peter’s hoodie, but it was too late.

May opened the door. “Hey guys, you want some Indian for dinne- What are you doing!?”

You couldn’t blame her. It looked bad. Peter without any clothes but his boxers on, and your shirt torn open, revealing your red, lacy bra underneath.

“We-we aren’t doing- any-anything May!”, you half yelled, embarrassment flooding your body.

“Yeah, no, we are not- she doesn’t-uh”, Peter said, looking at my torn shirt as he quickly pushed me behind him, not wanting to show his aunt what I wa wearing.

“Um, okay. Kids, I don’t know what’s happening, but just, uh, use protection and don’t be too loud-”

“MAY!” Peter said, hands covering his face. “We aren’t doing anything!”

“Uh huh. Sure….”, she said. “With how much you talk about how beautiful Y/N is, I can’t believe it took this long for you to tell her. But maybe don’t sleep on the first date? I mean, I know you are 19, and it’s your decision.. ”

“NO MAY!” Peter said, glancing back at me, cheeks flooded with pink.

“Also, perhaps lend Y/N your shirt or something. Considering you ruined hers? And wear some clothes when you get out.”

With that, she left the room, winking at me and mouthing to Peter, “It’s under the bathroom sink…”

Peter groaned, falling on his bead, head still in his arms. “I’m so sorry for May! I don’t know what- I didn’t mean to- your shirt-”

You laughed, pulling Peter’s midtown hoodie over your ripped shirt. “It’s honestly fine Pete. Let’s go eat some food. And maybe after that, you can ask me out on that date you’ve been meaning to do?”

Smirking slightly, you walked out of the room, kissing Peter on the cheek and taking pride in leaving him behind in his room, stuttering a nervous “Yes”.

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

I hope this is good, and I did the story justice anon! Thanks so much for requesting this, and I would love to have a couple more to write since you all have such good ideas :) Until next time!

[propsugar]

jealousy . — kaeya alberich

pairing(s): childe x gn!reader, kaeya x gn!reader? (he wishes LOL)

warnings: jealous kaeya, mentions of alcohol, some suggestive parts, umm you get marked with one of those seals?

loud, quick steps echoed through the hall of the building. the panic behind them was n early audible with how your panting breaths fell erratically. you thanked the gods it was a short walk into the building and to kaeya's office. you hooked a left and were in the dead end corridor, repeating to yourself that it was the "third door on the left," until you reached it. grabbing the doorknob quickly, you tuned it and pushed to enter. you were only met with resistance. frantically, you jiggled the knob before pushing your weight in full onto it. your breath sped up impossibly faster, heart beating through your chest and causing a deafening thrum in your ears. why was the damn door locked?

suddenly you hear a familiar voice from inside. you would yell for him, but you were nearly certain you didn't have the energy to do that and keep yourself upright too, evident in the way you continued to brace your weight against the door. everything started to spin when the warm light from the room flooded the dark hall, and you realized he wasn't alone. inside were multiple knights, some familiar, some not, apparently being briefed on something or other. had your cheeks not already been as flushed as possible, you would be turning red. once he assessed your situation, he apologized and excused the men, all of which were now staring quizzically at you, now trembling where yo stood without the strength of the door. you knew kaeya wouldn't offer his hand. as they got up from the table and shuffled you, you could hear the heavy sigh leave the man now towering above you.

"kaeya, he..." you started, huffing with the effort before being cut off.

he mumbled a short, "up," pointing out to you that you had sunk to the cool tile of the floor without even realizing. on shaking legs, you stood and approached the area you had now grown used to; a small stool behind his desk. he closed the tall, heavy door, letting it slam shut carelessly. he silently moved to reached into a cabinet under the largest bookcase sitting directly behind his desk. in it was a basin, a corked bottle, a rag, and a flask-type bottle filled with fresh water. his face was cold, as silent as the room, until he spoke again. "where?"

"where?" you questioned, gripping at the neck of your shirt. it all felt too constricting.

"where is it?" he shuffled to you, dropping the basin on his desk and emptying the contents stuffed inside in no real order. he still hadn't looked at you for longer than a few seconds.

as he filled the bowl you responded, "my lower back," this time feeling the heat bloom impossibly further down your neck with embarrassment.

"tch." you winced at the icy way it was uttered, practically spat under his breath. your eyes cast downward to your bare feet and fumbled clothing. even if you had been in this position many times before, it never got easier on either of you, it would seem. kaeya didn't seem to care much for your comfort as he went around to the back of you, pulling a tie before loosening your pants and pulling them down just enough. a faint purple glow illuminated his hands when he found the seal embellished right above your tailbone. it pulsed with heat, almost like a burn. from what you had told him it even felt similar, regardless or whether it was hydro or electro. this time, though, it was more dangerous latter. he cursed his hands for freezing up at a time like this. he thought he was able to steel his mind to this process by now, but apparently not.

there was nothing said between the two of you as he held the now wet rag in one hand, and the uncorked potion in another. he felt bad at the way you flinched, a sharp whimper tumbling from your lips, but continued to pour the liquid until the seal was coated. he was glad he had half the mind to roll up his sleeves to the element neutralizing concoction before he wiped carefully up your back. the motion was firm, but careful. affectionate in a way. finally when you nearly gasped in relief, he spoke.

"why did you go back?" he didn't mean to ask so quietly and cursed the way his voice stumbled over each syllable. you stared at the floor, just long enough for him to wonder if he was even heard.

"i.. i wanted to." ah, you did hear. he didn't have to hide back here, a disappointed expression gracing his face. after another beat of silence he finished quickly and quietly, wiping everything from your skin as the light dimmed and any sigh of the mark disappeared, save for an irritated swatch from the rubbing. once he returned to the side of you, you fixed you clothes, tying the bottoms back around you and adjusting the wrinkles in everything else. he finally placed everything back, reminding himself to get a clean rag, fresh water, and yet another potion from albedo in return for a favor. it was becoming his morning routine.

even as you thanked him, exiting and telling him goodnight, he just hummed in acknowledgment, too lost in his own head. once you clicked the door behind you, he finally let go. he chewed the trimmed nail on his thumb, paced a bit, pinched between his brows, and finally sat heavily in his chair. he sighed deeply, but it still couldn't seem to rid the tight feeling in his chest. he wondered who really hurt more after all of this.

he searched in his drawers for something to accompany the glass he didn't even remember getting out, retracting a large green bottle previously residing in his brother's cellar. it seemed that this was routine too. you came, he avoided looking, he looked, he thought, he overthought, you left he drank. he tried to use anger to push out the deep sadness that blanketed him. he would convince himself you had to have been attacked, that there was no way the harbinger didn't do something heinous to bring you to his presence like this. but the sucked on bruises decorating your neck and collarbones were far from battle wounds. your clothes were removed delicately, rather than shredded. and you left with company, joining hands once you exited the knights' headquarters and speaking to him softly while you walked down the stairs.

from the first time you've told him it was an accident. you explained his delusion, how it was sometimes out of his control, and even more so when childe was highly … "entertained." he understood fully, and he could see the worry in the man's face when you returned to find him outside. but he couldn't shake that something about all of this was wrong. he ran over possibility after possibility, thinking over Stockholm syndrome, an ultimatum, maybe a deal being settled? truthfully, he knew the answer.

the only thing "wrong" about the fact that you had someone at your side was that it wasn't him.

[rumblelibrary]

Might we get some Sebastian Zollner soft smut 👀 maybe even like young him when he was still trying to do his own painting and you were his nude model

The Artist and his Muse [Sebastian Zöllner x his Muse]

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Smut, bit pf fem!dom and a mess of a man

A/N: As usual Sebastian is my weakest spot. The painting here is "In the Tepidarium" by Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema.

You stood there quietly, a sense of expectation taking over you when he opened the door at you. You noticed him from day one and now you had to wrap the situation between the two of you.

"There you are"

He only said letting you inside, a second voice greeting you.

"Hey! Seb is that your girlfriend?"

He waved at his flatmate to shut up as he put an hand on your lower back pushing you to get out of that situation fast.

As you got into his tiny room it was a mess.

The space was small, scattered art books and biographies of great artists everywhere on the floor, on the big inclined drawing desk, one of those like architects had. Then drawings, drawings everywhere from the floor to the walls, from over the bed to every visible corner of the room.

Also mugs, ashtrays filled up everywhere, more mugs used as ashtrays and some leftover food also used as ashtray.

The place would have been grey and dull if it wasn't so chaotic and full of colours.

You also noticed from the big amount of duvets over the bed that the place was cold.

"Get your stuff here"

He said moving his, hopefully clean, clothes off a chair so you could lean your stuff there.

"Thank you for coming" he added briefly and you smiled.

"Thank you for inviting me"

It wasn't like you had much choice, you posed for the art academy, but some extra money was always nice and he daunted you for weeks by now, so in the end you said yes.

"So, let's begin or do you need anything?"

"Some water would be nice" you said as he nodded taking a glass full of dirty water, probably used to get wet the brushes, and going away. You heard him throw it away and briefly wash it before coming back to you with the glass full of water and still half dirty.

You smiled as you took it taking a sip only to be polite putting it back on side.

"Now please" he gestured something, he did a lot of hand gestures and a lot of waving like he was constantly trying to get rid of some smoke surrounding him.

"Get naked" he concluded and you nodded quietly undoing your dress as he looked away to look trough some of all those sketches he had around the room finally showing you a sketch of a standing naked figure, he clearly had some ideas for the background and it was quite classic as structure.

"You can hold this" he said handing you a ball "hold it low, around here" he said pressing the ball over your lower stomach.

"You know ,like a fortune teller" he said before giving you his back to prepare the easel and put on the canvas. You notice he sketched the back of it, so he probably didn't have all of that money. The chances to be paid becoming small by minute, but you were here and he was awkward enough to intimidate you a bit.

You put the ball down and proceeded to undress, you folded your clothing over the chair he freed for you and piled them neatly before picking the ball again.

"ruffle your hair, I need a kind of unkept vibe"

you nodded as you held the ball under your arm and with one hand you ruffled your hair standing nicely in place as you put the ball back to its position.

He stared at you as he leaned on side, he jerked his hand blindly on side to turn on the small radio to some low indie pop channel.

You took your time to observe him as you stared in front of you.

He had longish hair and he tied them up into an half bun, a soft beard. He wore a used t-shirt from the band The Smiths already stained with colour and some blue pants that must be his kind of working from home uniform.

He was barefoot and you noticed he bowed his feet inward as he got pensive, like a way to get extra relaxed.

He was cute, you had to admit it. He was also the first in line most of the time during real life drawing lessons, you could tell he was striving for it but he didn't take well criticism. He would glare and frown at every critic, nag at his bottom lip as he resumed his sketching every time with more passion.

It was always weird to go and see a student on your own. When you were working at the academy it was easy because you had a clear shift and pauses, while when working with artists alone you always had to give in some time.

"Relax your shoulders"

You blinked like his words woke you up and you took a deep breath resuming your position.

"It is a study for a classical image, you know something like Alma Tadema works, only modern" you smiled as you liked that painter and you nodded.

Silence took over as he observed you and disappeared behind the canvas. He was nervous from the moment you agreed to meet him alone. he felt like a creep because he always had a bit of a crush on you and he was upset when for a reason or another you were not the model on certain days. You were everything he liked, every proportion of your body was the ideal he had as an artist.

He sketched your shape as for once he had all the time, no change of position, nobody calling it too difficult or interrupting the moment.

He huffed softly as he got too excited awaiting for this moment he couldn't sleep at night and he even cleaned up his room. Well, you could tell he tried.

He observed every detail of you: from the way you had little moles scattered on your body that he never noticed before to the way your collarbone met deliciously under your neck, how your shoulders drifted up every now and then to unease the tension from the lack of movement. He bit on the inside of your cheek as he sketched the navel of your hips, the delicious curve where so many times he imagined to bury his head into, to be kept safe from the welcoming world of your female form, the origin of the world of erotica.

He frowned as you moved to take a sip of water, he looked at the time, 30 minutes already gone?

He stared down to the canvas as he had to focus, focus focus.

"Seb?? Do you have my lighter??"

A male voice that you guessed belonged to his flatmate shouted and he picked a cigarette

"NO" he shouted louder as the other guy groaned from behind the door, you smirked as you watched him light up his cigarette with a metal lighter and blow some smoke.

He resumed his sketching and you relaxed after some time, your eyes darting away as you barely saw him beside the smoke raising from behind the canvas.

"SEB"

Another shout interrupting but this time it was another flatmate that just bounced the door open. You gulped in surprise as you didn't have anything at hand to cover yourself

"What shit is this? What kind of pervert are you?"

The guy asked as Sebastian thew the pencil at him.

"Fuck you" he shouted "get the fuck out, out!" he jumped off his seat throwing the lit cigarette at him. And that’s why you hated to go to people's houses. Other that don't study art looked at you like that, like something dirt ,like a naked woman.

You sighed as you moved toward the bed covering yourself with one of the countless duvets scattered in the room, it was warm and soft at least. You looked away trying to zone out from the little fight going on between Sebastian and his the other guy.

"Sorry"

He said as he locked the door and pushed the drawer in front of it huffing and panting as he came to you showing with a gesture of his hand your way back to that position.

"No, look it is better if I leave, if you want to do it a private session let's do it at the school" you said as you got enough of that place and his flatmates and you also realised that if he lived in that chaos he probably didn't have the money to book the room and also pay you.

"no, no, no, no" he repeated as he moved after you as you marched to collect your belonging.

"please, they are just idiots" he said as he looked like he was ready to have a panic attack.

"I can see that myself, so that's better to end it now"

"no, no you don't understand"

You chuckled as you looked at him "don't understand what? the power of art?" you inquired as you had heard all sorts of excuses about it.

"I need you"

He said helplessly as your frowned and looked away as he gabbed you by your duvet yanking you back a little.

“I don’t work with other models, I can’t process it, when you’re there I am productive, I work and overwork, and my head is full of ideas, of hopes and more and more ideas, I can see things in perspective, I can feel it, it is like a raging fire and I need you t make it start, just please, just listen to me”

You tried to focus onto what was around you and there's when you noticed that from this new perspective you saw the sketch.

You moved closer to it as you admired how delicate was Sebastian's hand, he made little traits, quick slashes that made your figure look like you had never seen yourself before and you had actually seen a lot of sketches of yourself, so many pointing out unflattering things about your body that you tried to avoid having a look at those sketches.

"it is rough, don't" he said as he still held you by the duvet but he noticed you look up at the canvas.

He had never been this close to you. You smelled like fresh flowers and soft creamy after bath lotion, one of those that say your skin will be like honey and milk. He was sure you tasted like it.

He gulped down nervously as now this was widely unprofessional and he would have given all he had to avoid this moment and yet he daydreamed of it for so long while watching you getting dressed after the lesson.

"I apologise, I swear, I never.. I mean I know this is not the best place but I never felt like I do with you before and I didn’t want to screw it up on the first time”

You didn't really had the time to answer as he clashed his lips over yours grabbing the sides of your face with his hands and it was so desperate like he was about to break down.

You pushed him off as he frowned visibly. He looked so taken aback and saddened now.

You almost chuckled to his face as he looked like a pup that got smacked in the muzzle for biting onto something pricy.

You tugged him by his shirt still wrapped up in that duvet pushing him to sit down.

He opened his mouth but nothing came out of it when you moved to straddle him.

"Stay still"

You said as you moved your hand to his jaw making him close his mouth, he stared at you as you brushed you lips against his, he looked at you intensely before closing his eyes and letting you guide him into that kiss. He let out a soft sound as you showed him what kisses are made for, not that fearful rushed slamming from his mouth to yours.

"You're a goddess" he whispered softly as he leaned for another kiss. He pulled onto that duvet now hungry for more.

"Calm down, don't rush so much" you whispered as he almost didn't know what to do with himself. He was hard already, he was desperate for you that colonised his dreams for so long.

"Damn" he groaned as you lowered your hips against his. He stared at you panting softly as you started grinding against him, the fabric of his joggers was soft but you would have endured some itchy feeling just for the way he trembled and groaned from the friction you gifted. You were sure his boxers must be filled with precum already.

"Can I touch you?"

"Not yet" you whispered. You loved the way he draw you, you saw all the desire behind it and he deserved to enjoy it and not to rush through it.

"Fuck please, i have never" he stopped himself as you looked at you curiously.

"I did everything but that" he said as he tried to avoid to mention how usually girls got so annoyed with his that after a very good cunnilingus they would ask him to leave.

"even better then" you said as he looked so nervous it was adorable. you leaned in and kissed him again as he let you take off his shirt as he stared at you adoringly, the duvet falling off your torso as his eyes fluttered closed letting you guide him in the kiss, he had a lot to learn but he was eager to.

You swiped your tongue over his lips as he parted them and groaned as you joined your lips in a more eager kiss, your tongue trying his as his hips jerked aimlessly against you trying to get some relief, but you moved your hips away not willing to satisfy him too fast. He was used to stare at you, to long for you with his eyes and now he had to persevere in that.

You pulled back from him moving to stand up between his legs letting the duvet fall off your body, now the act taking a whole new meaning for him as you kneeled down taking off his clothing.

You pushed his cock out slowly stroking it, your cold fingers making him hiss as you pumped him slowly, your lips moved across his cock slowly sucking on it and tracing its length with your tongue.

“If you cum I will leave”

The threatening enough to make him groan, he couldn’t take his eyes off from you even if that made him only more horny.

“Fuck” he hissed as you sucked on his needy tip already spread with premium, your tongue twirling over it before taking it whole in your mouth.

Oh the strangled moan he let out.

He held over the edge of the bed like a dear of life, your bobbing head making him lose his mind, you let out soft moans and humming sound that echoed through his whole body.

“Fuck”

He repeated, more helplessly than before if possible, as he closed his eyes, he squeezed them as his thighs trembled eagerly fighting against his natural eager nature.

You pulled back as you stood up and he let out a loud groan.

“Look at you, already a mess”

You smirked as you moved to straddle him, your bare slit tracing his cock like your tongue just did before letting the tip of it inside you, then you pulled back making him cry out.

Once again, his hips jerked up helplessly.

“Please” he groaned “I need it, I need it” he begged as you held him by his jaw with your left hand as your right one guided him inside you.

You stared at him as you did, his eyes widened, his pupils blown as your warmth engulfed him and wrapped him in a dense sense of pleasure.

“Move, move”

Your leaned your head on side

“Please”

You still didn’t wince, he parted his lips not knowing what to say.

“You have been staring at me like that all that time, do you think I didn’t notice?” You whispered as he licked his lips nervously

“You used me for your little dreams didn’t you? I bet you wanked like a loser with your sketches, you were getting hard on the first day only”

He whined like a suffering cat his thighs trembling as he was bouncing on his heels lightly

“Am I wrong?”

He shook his head to you and you smirked

“I have been your fantasy, now, you’re going to be mine”

He moaned as you begun to move, your lips meeting his as he sucked onto your finger before you moved your own hand to rub your clit, he was completely out of his zone. He used to be hungry and straightforward and now he was just an idiot who didn’t know where to place his hands.

“My muse” he groaned as your moves were making him go wild, his hips jerking against yours “my muse”

He repeated it as you pushed him to lay onto his bed, your sensual bouncing over his lap making any sane man become a priest for your religion.

“Fill me Sebastian, please me”

You moaned as you rubbed over your own clit as he squeezed your thighs unable to phantom any move, to focus.

His mouth hanged open, he licked his lips and groaned, your permission making him lose control as he released inside you.

He kissed onto your lips rising to sit up, arms around your waist as he nuzzled helplessly against you.

A whole new world open in front of him.

“Do you want to paint me now?”

He nodded looking up at you, hair stuck up to his sweaty forehead as he looked so lost, pupils blown and erratic breath.

You smiled tenderly to him tracing his face with your fingertips guiding him into another kiss that he won’t forget for a lifetime.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

New in Town

Warnings: noncon sex.

This is dark!Lumberjack!Thor and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new job in a new town but find your welcome not so warm.

Note: Another piece for @imanuglywombat​ and @nellblazer​‘s Lumberjack Challenge. I needed me a big, scary Thor so here we go!

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

It was your first day and you already felt in way over your head. Your predecessor had left quite the mess and it would take a while to clean it all up. The filing cabinet had little actual organization to it and the computer, well that was just a bunch of nonsensically titled files dropped in random folders. It would take you the better part of a month just to get things in order.

You suspected however, that even that wouldn’t be fast enough for you prickly new boss. Loki, who preferred Mr. Laufeyson, had been short as he showed you your desk and nonchalantly pointed to the filing cabinet and assured you everything was ready to go. Well, it was not at all. Payroll, scheduling, among other admin to be done. Your only saving grace was that last week’s pay had already been doled out and you only need to figure out that week’s before, oh, great, end of the day.

You shivered as the walls of the portable shook with the frigid gust. It was poor protection from the northern chill and you kept your jacket on and only slightly unzipped as you went about your work. If your gloves weren’t so thick, you’d have kept them on as well.

As you jotted down names and hours and switched between windows, the door opened and you sat up as a tall man entered abruptly. He slammed the door behind him as he glared around the office and tilted his head at you. Thick blonde hair poked out from beneath his wool cap and a golden beard trimmed his jaw. His flannel jacket was worn and stained and he smelled of pine and sweat as he neared your desk. He held a hatchet in his right hand and leaned it against the edge of your desk.

“Where’s Kevin?” He asked brusquely.

“Kevin? Oh, um, I was told he quit. I’m his replacement.” You smiled as best as you could as the large man loomed before you. 

Like most of the workers, he lived in the small town an hour down the road. You’d only just moved there and he was no doubt wary of the stranger staring back at him. Your employment had been hurried; so much so that much of your home was still in boxes stacked in your front room. 

“I can help you.” You offered.

“Where’s my brother?” He growled.

“Your brother?” You wondered.

“Loki,” He huffed. You blinked. They didn’t look like brothers.

“Oh, sorry,” You said. “Well, he’s just in his office but he did ask not to be disturbed.”

The man rolled his eyes and turned the hatchet flat. His nostrils flared.

“Typical.” He muttered. “I suppose it’s your job now. I’m short.”

“Short?” You repeated.

“I was paid for maybe 14 hours. I worked almost 50.” He barked. “And my check didn’t clear until last night. You wanna tell me why?”

“Well, sir,” You clicked a few buttons as you switched to last week. “If you give me my name I can see and I can fix the--”

“Odinson, Thor,” He said sharply. “I’m the yard warden. I’m the reason these saws run.”

“I understand,” You placated as you looked at the screen and squinted as you found his name. 

Sure his enough his hours were entered correctly but his pay had been miscalculated. You corrected the typo and clicked a few more buttons.

“The payment should clear by the end of the day.” You assured him.

“End of day?” He sneered and you pushed yourself away from the desk as he raised the hatchet and brought it crashing down into the wood. “I’ll be back if it doesn’t.”

Your eyes rounded and you gripped the arms of the chair. You looked up at him and he gave a sinister smirk. He turned and stormed out as you gaped at him. As the door clattered behind him you stood and reached for the hatchet. You pulled on it but it was lodged firmly beside your computer.

The door of the back office opened and Loki stepped through. He raised his eyebrows and sighed.

“Mmm, that didn’t happen to be my brother, did it?” He asked.

You nodded and let go of the axe. He neared and looked at the hatchet.

“What was it this time?” He touched the handle and his long fingers wrapped around it. He jerked it and the whole desk moved with it.

“Mistake in the payroll.” You answered. 

“Hmm,” He let go of the hatchet and shrugged. “Well, see it doesn’t happen again.”

You bit back your response. It hadn’t been your mistake. He spun away and head back to his office. 

“Wait? What about this?” You asked as you tugged on the axe again.

“Work around it,” He waved his fingers over his shoulder. “Desk is still in one piece.”

🍯

The next day was more of the same. You were suffocated by the amount of work to do and how your list grew ever longer. You wondered if perhaps whoever previously held the post had been plucked from the lumberyard. 

You sat on the floor next to the filing cabinet, the drawers open as you sorted papers into piles. As the door opened, you kept a pile from fluttering away with your foot and looked up at your visitor. It was the same man as the day before. Thor looked just as perturbed as then, if not more.

“Hello,” You said as you gathered up the piles, stack them perpendicularly to keep them separate as you neared the other side of your desk. “What can I do for you?”

“The schedule.” He said. “I need Saturday off.”

“Saturday?” You nodded and bent to look at your computer, searching through your programs. “I’m certain we can spare a saw--”

“No, we have to run all. You’ll have to find someone to cover me.” He insisted.

“Alright, well, it’s pretty short notice.”

“Look, I know how it works in the yard. We’ll fall behind if we don’t run all the saws.” He crossed his arms. “You get it, honey?”

You frowned and scrolled through the names. You’d be lucky to get anyone to say yes to a Saturday.

“Well,” You stood straight. “Why didn’t you request the time off?”

“Excuse me?” He snarled.

“It’s customary to request time off before a schedule is made,” You said. “So for me to find someone at such short notice, there’s only so much I can do.”

“You’ll find someone.” He huffed.

“With all due respect, I don’t go out there and tell you how to cut wood,” You said. “So, if you must have Saturday off, we might just need to be down a man.”

His nostrils flared and his jaw squared as he stepped closer to your desk. He dropped his arms and reached out to grip the hatchet still buried in the wood. He chuckled and ripped it out, shaking your desk.

“See that you don’t,” He warned as he turned and leaned the hatchet against his shoulder. “You can explain to my brother yourself why we don’t meet our numbers on Saturday then.”

“Oh, he’ll know why,” You affirmed and watched him disappear through the door, a draft skirting in past him.

You sniffed and glanced at the slit left in your desk. Great. Wonderful start.

🍯

Saturday was your first day off. You spent much of the day unpacking and settling into your new place. It was a small town and you still felt like the odd one out. Everyone knew everyone and you suspected, they didn’t want to know anyone else. 

As it got later, the night falling earlier there, you took a walk downtown and ordered some old-fashioned fish and chips from the shop downtown. You waited at a table along the wall as the cook talked and yelled in the kitchen and the couple at the front counter called out orders and rang them through.

You played with your phone, playing a matching game to keep you busy until your ticket came up. The chair across from yours scraped and you looked up at the broad figure on the other side of the table. Thor leaned an elbow on the table and stared up at the menus above the counter.

“Not from around here. I knew it.” He said. “Because I know everyone around here.”

“I’m sure you do,” You said stiffly.

He scoffed and scratched his beard. He leaned back against the wall as he sat sideways in the chair and flicked the corner of his receipt in his other hand.

“You city folk are all the same. You think you know everything.” He grumbled. “You’ve got this air about you. The way you walk around with your nose up.” He grimaced. “A real tight ass, just by looking at you.”

“If that’s what you think.” You shrugged. “I haven’t done anything against you so I don’t see why--”

“My town. My yard.” He slapped his hand down and gripped the edge of the table. “You won’t last. You’ll be on the same truck out of here soon enough.”

Your number was called and you stood. You tucked your phone in your purse and gave a tense smile.

“Have a good night,” You said evenly. “Hope you enjoyed your day off.”

You went to the counter and showed your ticket. You took the greasy paper bag and headed out without looking at the man still at the table brooding. You weren’t entirely sure why you’d riled him so, but you weren’t eager to provoke him further.

🍯

On Monday, you hunkered down with a thermos of coffee and set to sorting out the computer. You had to open every file and rename it, place it in the proper folder and back every bit of it up. It kept you busy, not that this job had let up, and you were content to lose yourself in the tedium.

When your lunchtime came around, you went out to your car to grab the lunch you’d forgotten on your passenger seat. You had been so preoccupied with your mental to do list, you had entirely overlooked it. As you carried your purple lunch tote back to the office building with its rippled tin walls, you passed by several of the workers on their own breaks.

Among them was the one man who’d proven himself troublesome. The rest of them had been understanding and were even relieved to be rid of the man who came before you. They were surprisingly patient even if they were a bit grim. Thor sat with several of his men on the log bench as they drank from steaming metal cups.

“So I get her home and she doesn’t even wait to get in the door before she has her shirt off.” Thor’s deep voice boomed as you neared. “I’m like honey, you know the neighbours like to talk. Well, she shut me up.”

You blinked and peeked over at the men. Thor smirked and winked as he caught your eye. You righted yourself and carried on.

“Had her bent over the kitchen table. She said she doesn’t fuck in bed.” He chortled. “Not high-maintenance like some.”

The men laughed as you climbed the steps of the office and turned back. Thor waved at you and then folded all but one finger. He pointed at you and looked at the men on either side of you.

“Not like that one.” He said. “Looking at her, I guarantee she hasn’t been fucked in at least a year. Maybe more.”

You winced and grabbed the door handle. You were embarrassed but angry. You knew if you said anything, it would only be worse, but you couldn’t just let him talk like that. You spun back and slipped inside, quickly snapping the door shut behind you.

You placed your lunch on your desk and crossed to the other door. You knocked and waited for Loki’s response. It was dull and already agitated. You entered and stood by the open door.

“What is it?” He looked up. “I’ve twenty minutes before I’m on my way out.”

“What-- Where?”

“Personal,” He said pointedly. “Now, why have you bothered me?”

“Look, I’m not trying to cause a fuss but… your brother,” You explained cautiously. “He’s been… extremely rude and his behaviour borders on harassment.”

“My brother?” He uttered. “Oh don’t mind him, that’s just the way he is. Repugnant, really, but you’re better off to ignore him.”

“I’ve done my best to but… are you not going to do anything? Say something to him?” You challenged.

“Why would I do that?” He leaned back in his chair and twirled his pen.

“Because if this continues, I will fire a report with the labour board for harassment.” You said.

“You’ve not been here a week and you’re coming up with these unfounded accusations,” He pointed the pen at you. “These men, they’re not used to a woman in the yard. My brother, especially. They’ll be even less hospitable if they hear this woman is whining to the boss.”

“I’m not--” You stopped yourself as he showed little interest in continuing the dialogue. In fact, he’d already traded the pen for his phone. “Suppose you’re right.”

“I am. Now don’t bother with my brother. He’ll leave you alone.” He waved you away like a bug. “Just do your work. That’s what I pay you for.”

🍯

In the five days you’d been at the lumberyard, Loki had left early twice or disappeared for midday meetings. You found your work was straightforward but he didn’t seem to care unless you made some glaring mistake. He was entirely unfazed as he left once more. You couldn’t blame him for not wanting to deal with his volatile brother and yet, that was his job.

Alone, you continued your overhaul of the filing system and reviewed the schedule for the next week. Your life had never been exciting, none of your jobs had been much different than this. A desk, an office, an endless pile of work. And yet this one felt more desolate. The walls did nothing against the cold winds and you could hear the buzz of saws and hollers of men without. All men. It only occurred to you then that there was not a woman beside yourself on the employee roll. Perhaps that was why you’d been met with hostility.

You checked your watch and shut down the old PC and locked up the filing cabinets. As you did whenever Loki flitted off, you killed the lights and locked the front door of the office behind you. You turned and tramped down the stairs onto the frozen ground. You could see your breath as the days grew colder and colder.

You stopped dead as you headed for the row of vehicles along the edge of the yard, all parked at an angle. You stared dumbly at your small Ford. That wasn’t good. A whole tree trunk laid across the car and its weight had sunken in the roof. What were the odds that a tree had traveled to fall on your car in particular. Well, you had a good idea who had left the rather large gift and you weren’t going to give them the satisfaction.

You turned and strode back to the office but again your fortune was not so kind. Thor strutted towards you with a big grin and his arms brushed against yours as he passed.

“Have a good night, honey,” He said.

“You too.” You returned rigidly and sped up.

You didn’t look back as you dug out the keys and unlocked the office. You slipped inside and closed yourself in as you pulled out your phone. You dialed the cab company as you peeked out between the blinds. Thor was stood by your car guffawing with a red-headed man at his handiwork.

Would Loki do anything about that?

🍯

In the back of the cab, you called the towing company and scheduled an appointment for the next night. Then you tried to phone Loki but he didn’t pick up so you e-mailed him with the picture you’d taken of your car. It was damage of property! Surely he had to do something. 

You checked the time and watched the meter run higher and higher. The commute was long as it was and seeing it in numbers made you even angrier. You wouldn’t have much time to cook or do much of anything.

As the taxi pulled up to your house, you charged the ride to your credit card and climbed out. You shivered as the dark blue sky shrouded your front yard. Voices carried from the next and you looked over the short iron fence. Your neighbour leaned on the rail of his porch as a tall figure stood in his yard. Your flesh went hot as you recognized Thor.

“You live around here, honey?” He asked as you turned away and scurried to your front door.

“Mmhmm,” You hummed as you unlocked your door.

“You’re home late.” He remarked.

You ignored him and swung the door open, quickly closing it behind you. Your neighbour, Earl, had proven an equally unfriendly man. He complained about your bin when you put out your garbage and the little fairy ornament you’d placed in the yard. If there was one thing the people in this stagnant town loathed, it was change.

You dropped your bag and shed your coat and boots. You yawned and stretched as you walked anxiously around your front room. How was it that you ran into Thor everywhere? Work, sure, but why was he suddenly chummy with your neighbour? You hadn’t been there long and it was a small town but it all just seemed too coincidental.

You went to the window and hooked a finger around the curtain to peer out. Thor was closer to the fence now, arms crossed as he nodded up at Earl. He lowered his eyes for a moment and then turned his face slightly. He grinned as he spied you on the other side of the drapes and you quickly backed away.

You weren’t going to run away because of him. You weren’t going to quit and you weren’t going to leave this town. His fragile masculinity could shatter for all you cared.

🍯

The next morning, Loki agreed to drive you to work. The ride was awkward but you were thankful only to contribute half of gas rather than a full fare. You hadn’t slept very well and spent much of the drive staring out the window as classical music droned from the stereo. You hadn’t expected anything different in the overpriced car.

At the office, you brewed a pot inside and poured your second cup of the day. You had to finish the next week’s schedule and finalize the payroll. The noise of the yard kept you working and had almost come to be a comfort to you as you sat staring at tight fonts and endless numbers.

You were interrupted by the door and you didn’t need to look up to know who stomped inside. Thor looked as happy as ever and you peered over anxiously as his heavy boots clunked along the floor.

“My brother?” He asked bluntly. “Has some business to deal with.”

“In his office,” You said.

He smiled and stared at you. He didn’t move at first but finally crossed to the other door. He didn’t knock and you heard Loki’s chagrined greeting as he entered. The door fell closed but did not click into place. You went back to your work and tried to ignore the rising voices that sifted through the thin wall.

“Prove it!” Thor boomed, followed by a bang. The door swung open and he thundered through with a snarl. He marched towards your desk as you sat straight and he planted his hands on the top. “Whiny little bitch.” He said. “You’ll see what happens to those who can’t keep their mouth shut.”

“Thor,” Loki warned from his office door. “Leave her be. Don’t get yourself into any more trouble.”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” Thor pushed himself away as he barked at his brother. “You sound like father.”

“And you sound ridiculous.” Loki said evenly. “Get back to work. I’m certain you can handle cutting wood. It’s truly not that complicated.”

Thor scowled and spun, sparing you not an ounce of his fury as he did. You watched him go, the door shuddering in its frame as it slammed once more. You let out a shaky breath and glanced over at Loki.

“I assure you, he will not bother you again.” Loki said coolly. “He is… impulsive and needs a little reasoning. Once he’s over his tantrum, it’ll all clear up.”

You nodded as he turned and strode back into his office. You’d been gripping the edge of the desk tightly and it took you a moment to unlock your fingers. You leaned back and clutched your head. You really hoped he was right.

🍯

The next day, you waited at your window, watching for Loki’s sleek black car. Another day after another restless night. You watched the pale morning through the glass and your phone vibed in your pocket. You pulled it out and swiped up as the notification from your boss appeared.

“Emergency in the city. I’ve made alternate arrangements. E-mail me your progress at end of day.”

You frowned and looked up as an engine rumbled outside. You cursed as you recognized the red pick-up and the shadow of the man behind the wheel. Was Loki really that stupid? Certainly he just didn’t care. Or maybe he really thought he could control his brother. You had doubts. Thor didn’t seem the type to be reeled in by any.

Well, you could always rack up even more debt on a cab; there and back. Dammit.

Thor honked and you winced. You grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder. You locked your door as you stepped out into the morning chill and turned to make your way to the idling truck. The doors clicked as you neared and you hesitantly opened the door. 

Thor stared down at you. You didn’t move.

“Well, get in,” He sneered. “Long way to go.”

You climbed up and shut the door. Before you buckled in, he was already in drive. You snapped the belt into place and slid your bag down to your feet.

“Thank you.” You said. He didn’t answer. “Look, I know you don’t like me and I know you don’t have to drive me so I do appreciate it.”

“Anything to get my brother off my back,” He shrugged. 

You were quiet. It was pointless trying to get into this man’s good graces. He had decided to have a grudge against you and you’d only stoked it by tattling on him. You should’ve just shut and smiled, as you always had. It was the essence of professionalism.

You bent your elbow against the door and held your chin as you watched the houses pass outside the window and thin to lumpy fields and forests. You were almost lulled to sleep by the steady mutter of the engine and the motion of the truck.

Then all at once you were tense. A warmth settled on your thigh and squeezed. You sat up and tried to pull away from Thor. He kept his other hand on the steering wheel and grinned at the road. You tried to shove his hand away and he gripped you tighter until you cried out.

“You shouldn’t distract me while I’m driving,” He said. “It’s dangerous.”

“What are you talking about?” You tried to pry his fingers off of you. “What are you--”

Slid his hand further and leaned over, just a little, as he turned his hand flat along your pelvis. He was strong and forced two finger down between your legs.

“Thor!” You gasped as you slapped his arm.

He veered, just a little, but didn’t relent.

“You don’t want me to lose control, do you, honey?” 

He pushed his fingers against the fabric of your pants and rubbed. You could feel the seam through your panties as he moved his hold hand. He was rough and it hurt. All the same, you felt a tingle. You clung to his arm in shock.

“Stop! Stop! You’re--”

“Shhhh,” He kept going as his other hand gripped the wheel tighter. “Don’t be such a bitch.”

He moved his hand faster as you tried to crush it with your thighs. He wedged his hand between your legs and kept on. You trembled as a painful pressure began to build and you sank back against the seat, terrified. 

“That’s it, honey.” He purred as your thighs quivered. “You just need to relax… get that stick out of your ass.”

“Thor--” You gulped. “Please-- st--”

His fingers were right on your clit. The fabric chafed but still the ripples swirled around you. You went rigid and then the sudden and unexpected release swelled and crashed. You let out a pathetic squeak and gripped the door as you spasmed, your legs falling apart as you rode out your orgasm against his large hand.

His palm dropped against your leg and he caressed you before slowly drawing away. Your panties were soaked and you were certain it was seeping through your pants too. You looked at yourself in the rearview mirror and covered your face. 

What just happened?

🍯

You hid in your office. When you finally arrived at the yard, you’d almost sprinted to the building. You closed yourself in and sat behind your desk as if it were a shield. It took you a while to focus, to be able to read clearly, to comprehend anything in front of you. And yet, you could still feel his hand between your legs. Every time you moved, your panties tickled your tender cunt.

At noon, an e-mail chimed in your inbox. Another message from Loki. He wasn’t half as attentive when he was on-site. You opened it and sighed. There was a severe weather warning and the yard would have to shut down for the storm. That meant everyone had to go home before they got stranded.

You zipped up the jacket you hadn’t taken off and went to the door. Go out, go out, go out. The sooner you were home, the better. But getting there…

You stepped outside and the door clattered behind you. You ambled down the stairs and crossed your arms against your chest as the wind swirled the light powdery snow around you. For now, it was little enough, but it would get worse.

You crossed the yard and followed the sound of saws. Arn was loading up a trailer with Cameron and they paused as you neared. You smiled, then frowned.

“Storm’s coming. Boss says we need to shut down.” You called to them.

“Shit,” Cameron looked up and wiped away the flakes that fell on his cheek. “Yeah, it’s coming.”

“We’ll tell the other,” Arn offered. “Thanks, miss.”

“Not at all. We need the saws off and everyone gone within the hour.” You explained loudly.

“What’s this?” Thor, as was his habit, appeared as if out of air. He clapped sawdust from his thick gloves. “Saws off?”

“Your brother. He wants the yard down for the storm.” You turned to him and edged away as he got closer.

Thor shook his head and huffed. He nodded to Arn and Cameron as he shrugged. “Go on. Tell the men. I’ll get the rest sorted.”

The two other men left their pile of chopped timber and strolled away to the saws. You spun away, eager to shut down the office and lock up. Thor’s voice stopped you.

“You’ll need a ride,” He said. “It’s gonna be a big one. Storm, that is.”

“Uh huh,” You grumbled as you turned back and crossed your arms. “I gotta go deal with the admin stuff.”

“I’ll stick around. Loki’s always the last to leave.” He said. “You’ll need to do a walk through. Make sure everything’s down.”

“I know,” You assured him. “It won’t take long.”

“I’ll take you through it.” He offered. “This is my yard, after all.”

“So you keep saying.” You uttered.

“I own half of it.” He countered. “My brother just does the paperwork.”

“Alright,” You continued to edge away. “I’ll just--”

“This is a place for men.” He hissed. “Women… just get in the way.”

You swallowed and said nothing. You turned and walked away as you felt him watching you. As you rounded the corner of the storehouse, he called out behind you. “I’m patient. I’ll be here.”

🍯

Thor’s truck was the only one left as you locked up the office and began your walk through of the saws and checked the doors of the storehouses. You checked that the cranes and lifts were all shut down as well, all the while Thor watched. It was as if he was judging you. You ignored him as best you could and announced that all was in order as you secured the edge of the tarp thrown over the stack of timber at the edge of the yard.

“You’re a quick learner,” Thor mused as you neared. “So you might know.”

“Know what?” You asked as a large flake hit the tip of your nose.

“That it’s too late,” He pointed up. “We won’t make it back in time.”

He kicked his boots in the blanket below. It was building by the second and the sky was almost pure white with the downfall. He was right and you hated that. Your stomach sank.

“You have chains?” You asked.

“Won’t do me much good if I can’t see,” He tilted his head and smirked. “There’s a kit in the office. Not the first time this has happened. You learn to expect it up here.”

“A kit?” You shook your head. 

“Some blankets, some food,” He came closer. “Keep ourselves comfy until this all clears up.”

You stared at him dumbly. You checked your watched and looked up at the sky again.

“No, we can--”

“We can’t,” He said firmly. “What’s wrong?” He neared. “You afraid of the big bad wolf?”

You shouldered past him and kicked through the thickening snow. “No.” You snipped back at him, his heavy boots crushed the snow in your snow. “I suppose you’re right.”

You climbed the stairs to the office and took out the key, fumbling with your thick gloves as Thor came up behind you. He pressed himself to your back as you frantically turned the key and stumbled inside. He chuckled as he followed and closed the door. You tucked the keys away in your purse and took out your phone. No signal.

You left your purse on your desk and sighed. Thor went to the door of Loki’s office and glanced back at you. “Kit’s in here. Easier to keep warm, too. Smaller space.” He waved you along. “He’s got an electric heater hidden under his desk too.”

You said nothing as you followed. You really had no choice. Stuck here with no way out but him, you’d just have to fend him off through the storm.

He held the door for you and shut the door behind you. His hand grazed your back and ass as he drew away and you watched him round Loki’s large desk and go to the corner behind the standing cabinet. He dragged out a large bin hidden there and unclasped the lid.

You watched him, twiddling your fingers as your mind raced. You felt the ache below still and you looked at his large glove hand as he turned to push the desk against the wall. He laid out a thick duvet on the floor and the small travel pillow atop it with a quilt. He untangled the cord of the electric heater and placed it beside the blankets. He flipped it on and stood.

“Well,” He said. “Some soups in there. Some preserved fruits.” He offered. “You hungry, honey?”

You were quiet as he removed his gloves. You went to the other side of the blanket and sat. You took your boots off and left them to melt on the floor. You pushed your feet under the quilt and leaned against the cold wall.

“Don’t call me honey,” You crossed your arms. “And I’m not hungry.”

He nodded and lowered himself next to you. He untied his boots and set them aside with his hat. His shoulder rested just above yours as he sat back. You closed your eyes and let out a long breath.

“He’s got whiskey. Bottom drawer.” Thor said. “It might warm you up… loosen you up at least.”

“No, thank you.” You opened your eyes and slid down onto your back and turned your back to him. The electric heater buzzed in the silence.

“What wrong, honey?” He taunted. “You want more, hmm? This morning wasn’t enough for you?”

“Leave me alone.” You hissed.

He slipped down behind you and before you could sit up, his arm was around your waist. He pushed himself against your back and his hot breath seeped into your scalp. He nuzzled the back of your head. It was even more apparent, laid against him, how large he was. You shivered.

“I can keep you nice and warm, honey,” He bent his arm and tugged at the zipper of your jacket. “Keep you distracted.”

“Stop,” You grabbed his hand as he pulled your zipper past your chest. “Thor!”

“I felt it earlier. The way you quaked.” He snarled. “You need this.”

“No,” You clutched his hand as he forced your zipped further. “Stop. I just… want to sleep. Wake up when this is… over.”

“Feel that,” He pushed his pelvis out so that his crotch was against your ass. “You owe me.”

“I said--” You gasped as he broke your zipper entirely and slid his hand under your jacket. “Thor!”

“Are you fighting me or yourself?” He rasped. “Hmmm?”

He slid his hand up your blouse and cupped your tit. You wiggled against him but were trapped in his embrace. He squeezed and pinched until you cried out. He snarled and brushed his lips against your ear.

“I bet you’re sweet, honey,” His hand crawled down your stomach. “Aren’t you?”

You whined helpless as his hand pushed beneath the elastic waist of your pants. He pulled free of your grasp as he continued lower and slipped down the front of your panties. You gasped as he pressed a finger to your cunt and found your clit. You squeezed your legs together and he pulled his hand back to pinch you.

“What do you want, honey?” He growled. “You want to let me in or you want me to hold you down?”

“Please--”

He withdrew his hand and grabbed your leg. He bent it and drew it back over his.

“You think you’ll win?” He shoved his hand back down your pants gruffly. “Really?”

“Please--”

“That’s it, keep begging, honey,” He pushed two fingers to your clit and twirled. You twitched and he snickered in your ear. “Weak.” He sneered as he pushed his fingers along your folds. “You’re already wet… or is that from earlier?”

You murmured as he dragged his fingertips back and once more focused on your clit. He nibbled your ear as he snarled and rocked his hips into you from behind, grinding against your ass.

“You’ll want to be ready for me.” He gristled. “Nice…” He flicked his fingers and you groaned. “And…” He did it again and you whined. “Ready.”

You bit your lip as you fought against the tide that flowed from his touch. He rubbed you until you were breathless and ready to cum. He stopped suddenly and felt you tremble against him. He pulled his hand back and pushed your leg down. He brought his fingers up to his lips, just beside your head and sucked them noisily.

“Sweet as pie.” He muttered.

He gripped the back of your pants and wrenched them down roughly along with your panties. The cold air raised bumps on your flesh.

You reached out and tried to drag yourself away from him. He swiftly caught you and rolled you back to him.

“You don’t want to do that, honey,” He warned as he squeezed your hip. “Do you really want me to break you?”

You gulped and reached to grasp the small pillow lodged beneath your neck. He reached between your bodies and pulled up his jacket and you heard the subtle whisper of his zipper. He shifted behind you and snaked his arm around you once more. He pushed your pelvis until you arched your back and a deep rumble rose from his chest. 

He poked between your legs, parting them as much as he could as your pants confined your thighs. He leaned into you and his cock prodded along your ass and he angled it lower. He spread your cunt with two fingers and blinding pressed himself against you, guiding his tip between to your entrance.

A chill went through you and your arms shot out. You tried to roll away from him and he pushed inside you all at once. You cried out and he grunted as he forced himself even deeper. You threw your head back as your body curved backwards and yet, there was more of him. You whimpered as he filled you completely. 

“I told you, honey,” He jerked his hips and you yelped. “You gotta be ready for me.”

He thrust, slowly. You murmured and slapped the floor with your palm. You were breathless, senseless as your walls clenched him hungrily. Your arm flew back and your fingers tangled in his thick hair. He drew his fingers back to your clit and teased you once more. The scent of his sweat and evergreen mingled and engulfed you as he grunted with each tilt of his hips.

“I didn’t think you could do it, honey,” He sped up. “I didn’t think you could take it all.” He rutted with dusky breaths in your ear. “Ah… you’re so fucking tight.”

You whimpered. He was so big it hurt and yet it was the type of pain that had you wanting. His fingers drove your hunger and you panted wildly as you closed your eyes and drowned in the delight. His warmth chased away the cold and you forgot where you were, who you were. There was only the twisting coil inside you.

He pounded into you harder and pathetic mewls tumbled from you. You clung to him tighter and his grunts punctuated each thrust. The wet sound of your cunt added to the lurid rhythm and your body quaked as you crept closer and closer to the edge.

“Cum for me,” He snarled in your ear. “Come on, I can feel it, honey. Cum--”

You cried out and your entire body shook as your nails grazed his scalp. Your orgasm was disorienting and left you dizzy as it turned to wispy murmurs. It only spurred him on. He crashed into you even hard as he brought his fingers to your lips and poked them inside your mouth. You sucked on his fingers and tasted yourself. It was sweet.

He turned you on your stomach and kept his motion as he lifted himself over you. He crushed you beneath him as his pelvis snapped down into you. His hand spread over your head as he held you down and his other arms pinned your shoulder. His grunt grew louder and louder as he hammered into you.

He moved your whole body as his thrusts turned frantic. You clawed at the duvet as your face was buried into the small pillow. You could barely catch your breath and you gave muffled whine as your hips and ass throbbed.

He planted his hands on either side of you and lifted himself as he slammed into you. He roared as you felt his release spill inside of you. He jerked into you harshly and impaled you completely. He stayed like that as he shuddered and eased himself down onto you. You turned your face out as you suffocated beneath his weight.

He inhaled your scent as he dragged his nose along your cheek.

“You should’ve stayed in the city, girl.” He wiggled his pelvis and you winced. “Where you belong.”

[sequinsmile-x]

Riptide

A love story told from two perspectives. One after it is has ended, and the other just as it begins.

Chapter 2: The Middle 

Words: 5k

Rating: Mature. Major Character Death.

You can either read over on a03 or below the cut.

I would love to know what you think.

November 2025

Six weeks after Aaron dies it’s the anniversary of Haley’s death. The date had been burned in her brain long before they were together, the memory of hearing Haley begging Aaron to teach Jack about love was something she was sure she would never forget.

Emily’s still laying in bed when she realises what Aaron no longer being around meant. That he wouldn’t be there to leave flowers at her grave like he did every year with his son. Emily wasn’t even sure if Jack was in town or if he was back at college, his responses to her attempts to reach out short and sharp.

It’s the easiest she’s gotten out of bed in weeks. Determined to do this one thing for the man she loves and the woman he had loved before her. She dresses quickly and throws her hair up in a bun. She goes to a nearby florist and buys the most expensive flowers she can, feeling as if flowers from the grocery store just wouldn’t have been enough.

When she gets to Haley’s grave she falters, wondering for a moment if she has somehow overstepped. She swallows against the feeling and places the flowers down on Haley’s bare grave and she sits down, the damp grass pressing into her knees through her thin yoga pants.

“Hi Haley.” She says, looking at the flowers she had just put down. “I used to do this for him when he was in witsec. I didn’t even know back then that it was what he did when he was around, it just felt right.” She shakes her head at herself. “I think he’d want me to carry on now.”

She remembers what he’d told her once, that in another life, one where they had sorted themselves out sooner and Haley had lived, he thought the two of them would have been friends. Bonding over his annoying habits, how frustrating he was to live with at times. Emily liked to think that was true.

“I don’t really know what I’m hoping for.” Emily admits as she looks at Haley’s headstone. “That he’s with you wherever you are, or that he’s somewhere waiting for me.” She wipes at her cheek with the heel of her hand, getting rid of tears she didn’t think would ever stop. ______________________

He joins her on the balcony, wrapping his arms around her from behind, pulling her back into his embrace. Emily leans against his back and smiles as he presses a kiss to the side of her head.

“Aren’t you glad I convinced you to do this?” He murmurs against her skin. He tangles their left hands together, their wedding rings hitting each other with the motion.

She tilts her head to look at him, and is unable to stop herself from kissing him, placing a hand on his cheek to keep him in place. She pulls back so their noses touch. “I’ll admit a honeymoon wasn’t the worst idea in the world.”

He kisses her again, smiling too widely against her lips for it to be more than a brush against her. “Where are you taking me first, tour guide?” ______________________

When she first wakes up she can still feel his touch on her skin, and the ghost of his lips against hers. It feels so real she half expects to turn over and find him laying next to her.

Then reality starts to kick in, the harsh truth seeping in through the lightness that her dream had created. The heaviness of her loss taking its place back in her chest. Tears blur her vision as she checks the time on the alarm clock on her nightstand.

2.30am

Emily sighs as she gets out of bed, knowing she wouldn’t sleep again that night. She grabs a box out of the nightstand as she leaves their bedroom and walks downstairs.

She sits in the living room, curled up in a blanket Aaron had bought her because she always complained how cold she was, and she opens the box. She takes their wedding rings back out and holds them in her hand, hoping she can find some of him in a ring he never wore.

______________________

She buys a long chain and loops it through his wedding ring. When she places it around her neck she feels the tiniest bit of relief when the cold metal settles between her breasts.

She slips her own wedding ring onto her finger, settling it against her engagement ring. She stares at them together for a moment and decides to leave it on.

She had already felt married to him anyway.

______________________

Emily goes back to work after Christmas. She doesn’t tell the team about her return, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. The way the bullpen practically grinds to a halt when she steps out of the elevator tells her that she had failed.

She makes it to her office without being stopped, and as she steps into the room she realises her hopes of getting away from him for a few hours, from feeling anything other than sadness wasn’t going to work. It had once been his office too. As she sits down at her desk she remembers the first time they met, how rude he was to her. She used to tease him for it, poke fun at him for how much he hadn’t wanted her around those first few months.

Emily remembers when he first left, entrusting the BAU to her. It was the first time she had walked into his office, her office, when she felt the true pressure of what he had left her. The BAU was precious to him. She had walked over to his desk and picked up his nameplate, tracing her fingers over his name and job title.

She had put it in the top drawer of her desk. At first it felt wrong to get rid of it. Some part of her sure he’d be back eventually. But then they stopped Scratch. His death the end of the danger that Jack was in, and he still didn’t come back.

After that she kept it as a memory, a talisman of sorts of the man she had more complicated feelings for than she would ever have admitted. A piece of him that she had left.

It took on new meaning when they got together. When she knew how it felt to be loved by him, to be taken apart by him. How his skin felt pressed against hers. She’d look at the nameplate when she was at work and missed him, feeling ridiculous for feeling that way when it had only been a few hours since she had last seen him.

When they got engaged, she got an idea. An ongoing joke between them, that his love of the BAU was so great he was marrying into it, that she could turn into a keepsake for him. A small wedding present she knew would have made him laugh.

Emily pulls the drawer open and looks at it, picking it up and looks at its new engraving. She runs her thumb over the words and feels the now familiar tug of pain in her chest.

Aaron Hotchner Husband of the BAU Unit Chief

There’s a knock at her door and she puts it back, wanting to keep this one thing just for her.

“Come in.”

JJ opens the door, a smile on her face that seemed forced. “Em, we didn’t know you were coming back today.”

Emily clears her throat and tries to smile at her friend, “I couldn’t stay home forever.” She sees the case file in JJ’s hand.

“Em.”

“Do we have a case?” She asks, desperation in her tone. She just wanted to be somewhere, anywhere, else.

JJ steps into the office and eyes her cautiously. “Yeah, a serial killer in Kansas.” She hands over the file and Emily reaches for it with her left hand. She doesn’t miss how JJ’s eyes land on her hand, the slight crease in her brow when she realises Emily is wearing two rings. She quickly retracts her hand, reaches for the file with her right instead.

She clears her throat and hopes JJ doesn't hear how her voice wavers. “You can brief me on the jet. Wheels up in 30.” ______________________

“You’re doing it wrong.”

Emily puts the spatula down, sighing as she turns to see him, eyes narrowing at the smug look on his face as he leans against their kitchen counter. “You could help you know.”

He closes the gap between them, places his hands on her hips and he kisses her. “Well then how will you ever learn to cook?”

“That’s what I have you for.”

He raises his eyebrows at her, places his hand under her shirt, his skin burning into hers. “Is that all I’m good for?”

She leans forward and kisses him, biting his lower lip slightly. ��One of many things.” ______________________

She wakes up on the couch, unsure when she’d even fallen asleep. Emily closes her eyes in frustration, tears leaking out as soon as she opens them again. She can still feel his hand on her skin, the width of it scorched onto her back. “Damn it.” __________________

She dreams of the car crash they’d got into on their first anniversary. A car running straight into the back of them as he told her a terrible joke whilst they waited for traffic lights to change. He’d hit his head on the steering wheel and become unconscious as the car spun.

The fear she felt when he wouldn’t wake up still sat in her belly sometimes. The thought she’d lost him just as she’d got him overriding her every thought until he had woken up in the hospital several hours later, immediately concerned for her.

Emily still dreamt about it up until the day he died. Her nightmares telling her he had gone, that she was stuck in a car with his body and unable to move herself. Aaron would always soothe her awake, able to tell what had scared her just by the look on her face.

She has the dream again, but this time when she wakes she is alone.

______________________

“Don’t smile at me like that.” She whispers, running her thumb over his lower lip, marvelling in how warm it was.

His smile widens, his dimples coming out for her to trace her fingers over. “Why not?”

Her hand falls away from his face and she sighs, the sound catching in her throat. “Because this isn’t real.

______________________

When she wakes up she is angry. Tears already on her cheeks. And she misses the days when she could forget he was gone when she was dreaming. Moments when her subconscious would let her think he was still here, still beside her like he should be. ______________________

One night, around seven months in, Emily is desperate. Too many dreams about him lingering in her head, traces of him at every turn that she loves and hates in equal measure. Nothing smells like him anymore, and she realises in a harrowing moment she doesn’t even remember what he smelt like. She sprays their bed in his cologne and it’s not quite right. Whatever scent he had, something uniquely Aaron, missing.

A letter inviting her to the court date, to hear details about how he died yet again, tips her over the edge. She goes out, wanting to feel anything other than the all consuming grief that had become her normal.

A man across the bar she finds herself in keeps looking at her, throwing her looks in the dim lights. She drinks just enough to convince herself it's a good idea, that it would help.

If the fact she is wearing a wedding and engagement ring bothers him he doesn’t show it, doesn’t comment on it as she pulls him into the alley behind the bar.

The man kisses her. She moves her head, not wanting his lips pressed against hers. He presses his lips against her neck and she feels a stone drop in her stomach. His fingers trace her arm and they are too soft and she wrenches herself away from him.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” She walks away, ignores how he shouts that she should just go home to her husband after her, and she hails a cab. She cries the entire way home.

For the first time, for only a moment, she hates Aaron. Hates him for loving her so much, so well, that she can’t forget how it felt even for a second. ______________________

“You’re sad.”

She closes her eyes as he settles behind her in bed, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “Of course I’m sad.”

Aaron kisses the top of her head and she sighs, settling into his embrace. “You can’t be sad forever, love.”

She brings his hand up to her lips, presses them against him. Feeling his skin and the metal of his ring against her. “I don’t know how to be happy without you.” ______________________

August 2021

Emily is nervous the first time they have dinner with Jack after they get together, and Aaron finds it very endearing. She comes to his apartment and he can immediately tell she is on edge. Signs he hadn’t seen when Doyle came on the scene all those years ago. Little changes in her demeanour he had gone over in his head again and again when she was in Paris, a fake grave for her too close to where he lived that made his lungs fill with regret.

When she came back, nervous and on edge, he had purposely looked out for them. He’d seen her need to leave them before she even had, and he’d let her go, despite everything in him wanting to beg her to stay.

Aaron lets her into his apartment, explaining Jack was just on his way home from after school soccer practise, and she walks into his kitchen, helping herself to a glass of wine like she lived there. It takes all of his self control to not ask her to move in, knowing they’d only been together two months, as he watches her sit at the dining table. He sighs and sits next to her, taking a sip of the wine she passes to him, and he smiles as he realises she had poured it intending for them to share.

“Sweetheart.” He places a hand on her bouncing knee, soothing the joint with his thumb running back and forth over it. “Jack’s known you almost his entire life.” He says, not missing the way she rolls her eyes when he knows that is wrong with her without anything being said.

“I know.” She says, teeth immediately going for the cuticle on her thumb before he grabs her hand, subtly surveying the damage she had already done. “I know I’m being ridiculous. But…this is different.” She grabs his hand off her knee and links their fingers. “We’re together now. I love you. I’m not just a friend or someone you work with.”

He can sense the spiral, the self doubt seeping into her pores. “Emily.” He gently cups her face and makes her look at him. “Jack loves you. When I told him we were together, do you know what he said?” He smiles as she shakes her head at him. “He said ‘about time.’”

She laughs at that, a beautiful sound that makes his heart sing. “He didn’t.”

“He did.” He promises, kissing her firmly. “Well, he actually said ‘about fucking time’ but I told him off for cursing.”

Emily laughs again, her nerves finally seeming to uncurl and she kisses him this time, her love for him clear as she wraps her hand around the back of his neck.

Dinner goes well, and Emily becomes a pretty permanent feature in the Hotchner’s apartment after that. ______________________

The way they easily fall into their relationship surprises him. Aaron had always pictured their relationship, when he’d allowed a little bit of dangerous hope to seep in, to be fiery. Both of them too used to being alone, to being self reliant to give enough of themselves to make something work between them. But it’s not like that.

They communicate. They love each other openly. And every time she touches him, which she does almost constantly, he feels like something in him clicks into place for the first time in his life. A piece of the puzzle he didn’t realise had been missing. ______________________

Aaron wakes with his head on her chest, curled around her in a way that made it hard to determine where she ended and he began. Emily was running her hand through his hair, her short nails scratching against his scalp.

“Morning.” She says gently, her thumb skating over his temple.

Aaron doesn’t move from her chest, but tilts his head so he can look up at her. She smiles at him, adoration all over her face despite how tired she looked. “It’s unlike you to be up first.”

She hums. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He does lift his head at that, and he moves his hand from where it had been resting at her waist to cup her cheek. “Did you sleep at all?” He sighs when her answer is a shake of her head, sitting up and changing their positions so she’s resting against his chest. “You should have woken me up, baby.”

“You need your sleep too.” She grumbles, but he can feel the smile she presses into his bare chest as she protests.

“What kept you up?” He asks, his finger tracing the scar at the top of her left breast, as if he already knew the answer.

Emily rests her chin on his chest so she can look up at him, hand skirting over one of his scars. “It feels stupid, because its been so long now.” She smiles sadly. “But sometimes I feel like I’m still in that warehouse in Boston. Like part of me never left.”

“That isn’t stupid, Emily.” Aaron says firmly, catching her hand in his own. He wonders how many people had told her since Ian Doyle had torn through their lives that she needed to move on, to leave it behind her. “If anyone understands how it feels to be haunted by their past like that it’s me.”

Emily smiles at him and pushes down at his chest so she can reach up and kiss him before she lays back down. They don’t say anything else, and she certainly doesn’t get any sleep, but they spend hours just laying together that morning.

Aaron thinks, not for the first time, that they understand each other better than anyone else ever could.

______________________

He knew he’d been moody for a few days, the anniversary of Haley’s death looming over him. Aaron is shorter with her than usual, and he even ignores a couple of calls from her when she tries to check in when she’s away on a case.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to her, it was quite the opposite. She knew him well enough to pull his emotions out of him until he felt raw, and this was something he didn’t want to put on her. To make her comfort him as he grieved another woman. Emily takes to texting him instead, simply asking for a response to let her know he’s ok. He replies, just a one word text, and she leaves him alone after that.

It's very late in the evening the day before the anniversary when she lets herself into his apartment. The key he had given her only a few weeks into their relationship scraping in the door was his first sign that she was coming over. She has her go-bag slung over her shoulder, an indicator that she had only just landed and hadn’t even been home.

“Hi.” She says, a soft smile on her face that he isn’t sure he deserves.

He clears his throat, just seeing her making all the emotions he’d been suppressing climb up his chest, threatening to spill out. “Hey, Em. Look I’m-”

“I know what tomorrow is.” She interrupts, placing her bag down by the door. “You don’t have to hide it from me.”

Aaron sighs, and he rubs his hands over his eyes. Of course she remembered. She’d been on the line when Haley died, heard her final words at the same time he had. “Emily.”

She moves so she’s stood in front of him, somehow having taken her shoes off without him noticing so their true height difference is noticeable. He looks down at her and she's looking at him so kindly, her eyes full of so much love and understanding for him that he almost loses it there and then.

“Is Jack in bed?” She asks as she grabs Aaron’s hand, smiling as he nods in answer. “Let’s go to bed, love.”

She leads him to his bedroom and gets ready in silence. Getting pyjamas, that used to be his, out of the drawers that now have more of her clothes in than his, and changing quickly in front of him, encouraging him to do the same.

Emily gets into bed and sits with her back against the headboard, patiently waiting for him to join her. He does, he sits next to her and pulls the covers over them both, the chilly November air feeling sharper now he is in bed. She drags him down to her, makes him rest against her as she puts her arms around him, and that’s what makes the dam break.

Aaron rests his head on her shoulder and presses his face into her neck, trying to hide his tears from her even though he knows she’ll be able to feel them against her skin.

Emily holds him tighter to her, she cups the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his hair, and she kisses his forehead. “You’re ok, honey.” She whispers against his skin, her nose pressed against his temple. “You’re ok.”

“I’m sorry.” He apologises, looking up at her. The look of annoyance at his apology on her face almost makes him laugh despite the circumstances.

“You don’t have to apologise, Aaron. You loved her, you still do.” She says, pushing some hair off of his forehead. “Grief doesn’t just go away after a certain amount of time.”

She shifts them so they are laying down, and she curls around his back. Presses her body into him so he can feel all of her. She rubs her hand in gentle circles on his chest until he falls asleep.

When he wakes in the morning he’s curled around her, taking comfort from her kindness and her warmth. Her fingers gently skipping over his temple tells him she is already awake.

“Good morning.” She says quietly, as if she is worried she’ll disturb him.

“Morning.”

“What are you going to do today?” She asks gently, running her hand through his hair.

“What I usually do.” He says, grabbing one of her hands and linking their fingers together. “Take Jack to her grave and put flowers there. I try to think of a memory I have of her that I haven’t told him yet, give him something new about her.”

“That’s sweet.” She smiles at him, nothing but adoration for him on her face. “What did you do when you were gone?”

“There was a nice park near where we lived that she would have liked. We took flowers there. It was nice.” He reaches out and tucks some of her hair behind her ear. “Jessica told me that someone always put flowers on Haley’s grave whilst we were gone, but she never figured out who.”

“Oh.” She replies, suddenly looking unsure about something. She bites her lip before she looks at him. “That...that was me.”

He sits up suddenly, dislodging her from him. She sits up too, looking more unsure than ever, as if she was worried she had overstepped.

“Really?” He asks and she nods. “Why?”

Emily shrugs. “It just felt like the right thing to do.”

He closes the gap between them and kisses her gently, before resting his head against hers. “I love you.”

She smiles at him. “I love you too.” ______________________

They are laughing together when it happens. Sat at a junction in his car on the way to their first anniversary dinner when the car behind them doesn’t stop. The car spins, and the sound of Emily’s scream echoes around his head.

All he remembers is a sharp pain in his head, Emily trying to talk to him, and then nothing. ______________________

He wakes up to the sound of her shouting at someone. His head hurt, more than he ever remembered it hurting.

“I’m not going anywhere until he wakes up.” She says her tone a challenge to whoever she is speaking to.

Aaron opens his eyes and the room comes into focus slowly. He’s in a hospital bed, and he suddenly remembers the car accident.

“Em?”

She turns to look at him, her face softening as she looks at him. She has a bandage on her forehead, and one on her wrist. There's a small cut on her cheek that has been cleaned.

“Oh thank God.” She says, walking over from where she was standing at the end of his bed to sit on the edge of it and she grasps his hand in hers. “How are you feeling?”

His eyes flick to the nurse who was still at the end of his bed, and eyebrow raised at the pair of them before she shakes her head and walks out the room. He refocuses on his girlfriend. “My head hurts.” He lifts a hand to run a thumb over the cut on her cheek. “Are you ok?”

She scoffs. “I’m fine, they’ve already discharged me.” Emily takes a deep breath and her chin trembles. “You took the worst of it.”

“I’m ok, sweetheart.”

“Aaron. You wouldn’t wake up.” She says, her fingernails digging into his hand as she holds it tighter. “I…I was so worried.”

“Em-”

“You can’t do that to me again.” She smiles at him but it’s shaky, a tremor to her bottom lip that she doesn’t try to hide from him. “I’m too old to start over.” She jokes, lifting their joint hands to her lips to press a kiss into his skin. “And I quite like having you around. So please, no more dramatics ok? I think we’ve both been through enough.”

Aaron considers trying to reason with her. To remind her it had been a car accident, one that was completely the fault of the other driver. He couldn’t have stopped it. But she looks so upset, so wrecked by whatever had transpired between their car being hit and him waking up in hospital, that he simply nods.

“Okay, love.” He can’t help but smile back when she smiles brilliantly at him. “I’ll do my best.” He kisses her, but the movement strains his chest making him groan. “We may have to take a raincheck on our anniversary plans.” ______________________

It’s another month before they can actually celebrate their anniversary. Jack is with Jessica for the night, having made a crass comment about giving Aaron and Emily space that made both of them blush and the teenager laugh.

He makes her dinner, her favourite pasta accompanied by a wine she likes. They share a glass despite not needing to, sitting pressed together on his couch. That's when he asks her to move in with him.

He’s ready for a fight over it. Arguments in his head are already planned where he tells her she spends most of the time at his place anyway, that he can’t remember the last time they spent apart when she wasn’t away on a case. That when she says the word ‘home’ it never means her own apartment anymore.

Emily agrees immediately, smiling widely at him as she climbs into his lap. Kissing him as she asks him what took so long to ask her.

They barely make it to the bedroom, him pressing her against the wall, not wanting to wait another second until he’s inside of her. Her laugh turns into a moan, and any quip she had about him being too old to fuck her that way dies on her lips as he does exactly that.

He carries her to the bed afterwards, holding her close to his chest, his hands running up and down her spine. He hopes she sleeps. The car crash they had been in had featured in most of her dreams recently, her waking up and thinking he was dead. It always took him time to calm her down, to remind him that he was right there.

“Aaron?” She murmurs, half asleep against him.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Let’s find somewhere new.” She turns her head to press a kiss into his chest. “I’ve always wanted a house. A small garden where I can fail at growing vegetables.”

He laughs against the top of her head before pressing a kiss there. “Whatever you want, Em. Let’s find somewhere to call home.”

She’s mostly asleep. The way her words fall unbidden from her but slurred together give her away. “You are my home.”

[thiswasinevitableid]

93. I hire your matchmaking services but all the people you set me up with are horrible and I’m demanding a refund and you’re asking me for one more chance??? what are you going to do? be my date?

Indruck, nsfw, please!

Here you go! I was inspired by @kriskukko's incredible art for the orc designs in this, and I highly recommend checking them out!

“Indrid? Some from Kepler House is here to speak with you.” Ned pokes his head into Indrid’s rooms.

“Drat” Indrid hisses, dressing gown whipping about him as he scrambles to put the apartment in order while also dragging his notes on the man in question to the forefront, “I didn’t forsee anyone coming by today, goodness, he had his first engagement with Lady Austens daughter last night, what on earth could they need to see me for?” He tosses his spare pens aside, landing them in his second set of house slippers.

“Well, dear boy, given the luck you’ve had with them lately-”

“It’s not luck, it’s simply very unlikely futures. Please just, just stall whoever it is a moment, Leo is usually patient and-”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that my friend.”

“Why not? I watched you once talk an entire flock of constables away from your door. Praytell, why can Ned “Silver Tongue” Chicane not get rid of a single attendant?”

“Because the attendant ain’t here this time.”

Indrid slams the drawer of his desk, looking up as an orc in a deep brown suit steps into the room, tossing his hat onto the table. He’s shorter than Indrid and Ned (stout and strong, according to the notes Indrid received), wavy black hair streaked with grey at the front. One eye is blue, the other brown, and both regard the harried matchmaker with casual annoyance.

“Mr. Newton, I, ah, I was not expecting you to visit me.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be on a date where she found me so damn dull she hailed a cab as soon as dinner was done. I was already in town on some business for Minerva, so I decided to come tell you I ain’t in need of your services anymore.”

“I beg your pardon? Your benefactor employed me to find you a suitable match and I intend to do just that. I know there have been missteps, but such things are to be expected when searching for one’s lifelong partner.”

“Uh huh. And the fact I’m Lady Minerva’s chosen heir, which means there are a bunch of folks waitin to mimic my style and choices, has got nothin to do with it.”

“I, ah, I can’t say that I’m ignorant of the potential repercussions of being the one assigned to locate a spouse for you.”

“Which is the long way of sayin you know damn well that if I decide to stop askin you for help, no one with money is ever gonna come to you again.”

There’s a determined set to his rounded jaw, and a glimpse at the future suggests Indrid will have better luck with a different tactic

“....were they really so awful?”

“Yes. They were rude, or thought I was rude, or thought I was dull, or we just had fuck-all in common.”

“Have you considered you might just be a tad more demanding than average?”

“It ain’t demandin to want the person I spend the rest of my life with to actually like me.” He sighs, “I’m sorry, Mr. Cold, but unless you got a real winner up your sleeve, I’m done.”

All responses, all timelines show Duck ending his time as Indrid’s client and walking out the door.

“You could try me!”

“Really?” Duck looks deeply unconvinced.

“I will admit it’s unorthodox, but I, I foresee us having a perfectly nice time together. It will let me prove that I am capable of choosing companions for you.”

The shorter orc looks him up and down more deliberately and Indrid fights not to draw his dressing gown tighter. He will not be intimidated by some newcomer from across the sea.

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I got to go to this concert tomorrow; someone from Kepler house is expected to show and Minerva is busy. You’re comin with me.” He holds Indrid’s gaze, daring him to renege on his offer.

Indrid summons his best, professional grin, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

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

Indrid smooths his waistcoat and jacket as he steps from the cab, tucks a strand of his silver hair behind his ear. It’s his only concession to the nerves skittering up and down his spine.

Gatherings such as these are nothing new to him; he goes to them to gather new information and new clients, to remind the well-to-do families of London and beyond that he is the matchmaker extraordinaire. But there is always the moment between when they see him and when they recognize him, when every face in the room wonders why someone like him dares to enter their space.

Somewhere in Indrid’s ancestry is a love story between an orc and a goblin. His silver hair, very angular features, and complete lack of tusks or fangs is the proof. The red eyes don’t help--they unsettle everyone who sees them--but his mother insists they’re evidence of other orcs gifted with rare magic on her side of the family. He wears red spectacles over them just to be safe; he rather likes how the color stands out against his skin, and his glasses let him avoid prying questions.

Duck is waiting for him under the awning outside the music hall; he’s in a grey day suit this time, looking just as understatedly handsome as he did yesterday morning. Indrid must admit his desire to save his reputation is not the only reason he agreed to this; he cannot understand why Duck is having such trouble meeting his match. He’s good looking, moneyed, American--an exotic background in the eyes of the average, sheltered upper-class orc--but still has family history here in England. All Indrid’s matches showed a high probability of success. The point of failure must lie with the orc himself.

“Afternoon, Mr. Cold.” Duck smiles with everything but his eyes.

“Indrid is fine, given the reason for our meeting.”

Duck nods. Indrid wishes the ground would swallow one of them up. When the pavement fails to oblige, he offers his arm. The shorter orc takes it, both of them doffing their hats as they step inside.

“I, uh, like the earring.” Duck indicates the moth cuff on Indrid’s left ear, a stark contrast to the single gold hoop in his own.

“Thank you. A friend gave it to me. I, ah, I rather enjoy working moths into my wardrobe; I find them fascinating.”

“Y’know, back home we got moths that look like hummingbirds.”

“Really?” Indrid’s ear twitches, “how big?”

Duck holds up his hands to indicate the size. Indrid is about to demand details when they’re waylaid by their hostess and pulled into a cluster of families. Indrid breathes deep, feeling crowded in, and notices Duck routinely being cut off in conversation or given disapproving looks behind his back. Yes, Indrid supposes his manners are a bit rough, but there’s no harm in that. Too, everyone seems far more interested in the goings on at Kepler House and with Lady Minerva than with Duck himself. By the time they’re seated, their arms feel locked together from shared tension.

The violinists are quite good; Indrid enjoys strings, his recordings of them being his favorite music to listen to while drawing. But his mind is so consumed by futures and by thoughts about the orc beside him that he struggles to focus on the music. Duck is having a similar issue, though he hides it well; were they not side by side, Indrid would miss the way he fidgets with the knee of his trousers.

“Are you alright?” He whispers under the applause.

“N-ye-uh. Fuck. I, the musics real nice but I gotta say I’m gettin kinda bored. But I got no fuckin clue if leavin will piss everyone here off.”

“Intermission is soon. When it comes, keep quiet and follow my lead.”

When the guests rise to stretch their legs and fetch refreshments, Indrid guides Duck to their hostess.

“I’m so very sorry, but I’m afraid my stomach is rather angry with me and it’s best if I go home. Duck has agreed to accompany me so I do not pass out in the street. I’m sure you understand.”

She nods, and in a matter of moments they’re out on the street, each breathing deeply.

“Thanks for that.”

“My pleasure.”

“Guess I oughta just head back to the hotel.” Duck sighs.

“You could. But, ah, we’re not far from Kew Gardens and the weather isn’t miserably cold for once. If you’d like-”

“Hell yeah. Wait, fuck, sorry, tryin to swear less in public.”

“I don’t really mind.” Indrid starts them down the street.

“Lots of them do” Duck tips his head back towards the concert hall, “I mean, at least that rule is easier to figure out. It’s not that there aren’t weird rules and class stuff back home, but I grew up learnin them. Here I always feel like I’m one move away from makin an ass of myself. No one’ll say anything because of Minerva, but I know if it weren’t for her, none of ‘em would give me the time of day. It makes every interaction so goddamn stressful.”

Indrid twinges with sympathy, “When I first started in these circles, I wrote myself notecards and had Ned test me on them.”

Duck giggles, so absurd and loud it draws stares from passersby, “why? You seem to know your stuff.”

“I didn’t come from money, and I don’t always read social situations the way others expect. It was learn or live as a penniless artist for all my days.” As the gardens come into view he adds, “I know the basics of your life in America but if you weren’t here, what would you be doing there?”

“Workin in the Yosemite valley. I was a ranger there for a few years before Minerva called me here.”

“What was that like?”

Duck tells him as they wander the first stretches of the gardens. He’s midway through a tangent about bears when he stops.

“Holy fuck, you’re really still listenin.”

“Of course I am, this is fascinating.”

His companion smiles, “Glad you think so. But it ain’t polite for me to dominate the conversation like this. Now you gotta tell me what you do when you’re not gettin fancy folks together.”

“...You promise you will finish the story about the bear and the tent later.”

“You know it.”

Indrid knows that time passes more quickly with good company, but he’s still startled when the sun sets. The Savoy, where Duck is staying, is closer than his home, so their cab stops there first.

Duck pauses halfway out the door, “Meet me here for dinner tomorrow?”

Indrid grins, “I’d like nothing more.”

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

“I didn’t know the line even went this far.” Indrid watches the moors race by them out the window of the train.

“You and me both.” Duck rotates his map, glances at the letter he received a week ago, “okay, once we get off at Amnesty, we need someone to take us down Greenbank road. The house is at the end of it, somewhere around here.” He taps a patch of moor miles from anything else. Indrid studies his fingers and is glad that, of his more rugged habits, one he elected to keep was letting his nails stay claws rather than filing them down.

“My visions suggest that as long as we don’t ask anyone to drive us out after dark, we should have no trouble reaching it.”

Indrid tries not to be too giddy at the prospect of spending weeks and weeks more or less alone in the countryside with Duck. They’re going because an anonymous note informed him that he did indeed have a family estate and--once they determined that the house near Dartmoor did indeed legally belong to him--it was decided he would go to see how the old place was doing and perhaps take up residence.

He asked Indrid to come without even glancing up from the telegram from the solicitor. Indrid agreed without looking away from his drawing. If two months of semi-courtship in a crowded city got them close enough for that, Indrid dares to hope that being out here together will bring them closer still.

Amnesty is small, as they both expected, the air chilly and fog threatening to swallow whole buildings as they make their way to the Lodge where they’ve been told they can find a driver. When Duck asks the young woman working the counter for help getting to Greenbank Hall, she quirks her lips in a frown.

“I’m not sure there’s even a place called that around here….OH! Do you mean Beacon House?”

“Maybe?” Duck looks at Indrid, who quickly looks at the futures.

“Yes, it seems we do.”

“Okay. Since it's still light, I should be able to find someone to get you out there. If it comes down to it, I can, like, drive you out myself.”

They end up being driven by a friendly young man named Jake, who deposits them and their bags on the steps of the massive house with a friendly wave farewell.

“Agh” Indrid shivers as they step through the newly unlocked doors, “I think it’s actually warmer outside.”

“No kiddin. Damn fog means it’s already gettin too dark to see too. I’ll go get some kind of fire started, you see if you can find some lanterns or candles so we ain’t trippin all over ourselves.”

Indrid begins his search, comes to the kitchen and finds some matches and a candle. The solicitor arranged for food and other supplies to be brought in ahead of time, so in theory lanterns should be somewhere nearby. He’s just glad that the paltry light shows no signs of rodents getting into their food.

When he gets upstairs, he discovers two things; one, all the lamps are gas, so he’s able to light them easily. And two, a mother tortoiseshell cat is nesting with her kittens on a guest bed.

“Well, that explains the lack of mice.”

Footsteps behind him, “Got a fire goin in the sittin room, if you wanna pick a room for yourself I can light one th--awwwww” Duck moves past him towards the cat, who hisses at him, “now, there ain’t any need for that, missy. I ain’t gonna hurt you or your babies. But we oughta bring you somethin more’n mice to eat.”

“I saw some tinned food in the pantry.”

“Perfect, lemme go find a bowl.”

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

Beacon House has seen better days, but Indrid discovers the houses loss is his gain. Duck decides they can do many of the repairs themselves, and sets about ordering supplies from London or bringing them in from Amnesty. The few times they need help, the cook and several others from the Lodge come to assist in the project. These gatherings are far more pleasant than any Indrid had to attend for work (well, except for the ones where he was with Duck). And they always end before dusk.

Indrid occupies himself with figuring out why. There was no mention of this house when he first researched Duck, and even using the local name turns up very little. It’s not until he finds a diary belonging to one H. Newton in the library that he understands.

October the 15th, 1805

I fear the worst is upon me. I cannot leave the house, dare not even peer out the windows for fear of what I shall see. Lucy says it is my health, that we should travel to warmer regions so it will improve. But I know it is not so simple. Were we to flee, it would merely wait for our return. It may even waylay us before we reached town. I am cursed. We are cursed. We always will be.

Beneath the words is a hastily sketched image; yellow eyes and sharp fangs peering from between the bars of the front gate.

There are no more entries.

Indrid is unsure whether to raise the matter with Duck. On the one hand, he wishes him to know of any possible dangers. On the other, his friend is so very content these days, coming in from some project or other with grime on his skin and a smile on his face. Indrid’s own desire to stay with him here, in a house he can pretend is theirs, threatens to drown out all other reasons.

Eventually, his conscience shouts it down while he and Duck are on their evening walk.

“Oh yeah, Barclay told me about that a few days ago. Some ghost apparently wanders around the moor at night; got somethin to do with a murderous ancestor.”

“That does not alarm you.”

“You know I don’t believe in curses and destiny or anythin like that. People make up all kinds of stories when they’re alone in wild places.”

Indrid’s foresight guides his arm, gripping Duck and keeping him from moving forward.

“Does that look like a story?”

Directly ahead of them, a tor rises like a spike. Atop it, revealed by the rising moon, is a gigantic, fur-covered shape.

“See” Duck whispers, “were we back home, I’d say that was a bear.”

“And now?”

“Given there ain’t been bears in this part of the world in decades, I say we get the hell outta here.”

They take off back down the slope, the hall a collection of yellow squares of light in the darkening distance. A howl splits the air behind them and Indrid quickens his pace, keeps his eyes on the future in hopes of protecting them both.

This means he doesn’t see the burrow in the path until his ankle goes sideways in it.

“‘Drid!”

“Under no circumstances are you to try and help meAH!” He yelps as Duck swings him over his shoulder and continues his flight towards the house. As he’s bounced about, Indrid watches a glowing shape bounding closer.

“Thank fuck.” Duck crosses the gate, slams them closed, and lowers Indrid to his feet. Nothing glares at them from the path. But a growl creeps from the shadows and follows them until they shut the door.

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

“How’s the ankle?” Duck drops his coat on the chair opposite Indrid before tending to the fire.

“Better than yesterday. I should be up and moving tomorrow, if the futures are to be believed.”

“You know you don’t gotta rush. I’m happy to take care of you.”

Indrid picks at the ends of the blanket in his lap, “but I miss being able to aid you with work.”

“There’ll be lots of time for that. We got plenty to do to get the house to where we can live in it full time.”

“We?”

Duck goes completely still, then fails to put the fire poker back in place three separate times. When he finally meets Indrid’s eyes, he looks worried.

“‘Drid? What’s your endgame? With, uh, with me?”

“I…” Indrid grabs his teacup, intending to drink it to buy time and finds it empty, ‘I...I don’t know. I, I wanted to prove to you that I could find you a companion who made you happy, hoping you would give me another chance to locate your perfect match. But lately I, ah, I struggle to see that plan working. As I do not wish you to have any match but me.”

Duck moves across the rug, shadows on his face making it hard to read.

“I know that shows great selfishness on my part. If that is not something you wish to have in your life I, I…” he shrinks back as Duck leans down, certain this is the timeline where he accuses him of being a conniving monster.

“Funny you should say you’re bein selfish” Duck braces his arms on either side of the chair, “because I’ve been beatin myself thinkin’ I was selfish for keepin you out here so long.”

“Keep me here forever.” Indrid whispers. Duck smiles, closes the remaining space between them. His lips are still a bit chilly from working outside; Indrid does everything he can to warm them with his own.

The shorter orc straddles him and he whines so needily that Duck snickers in reply.

“What’s wrong darlin? Kissin too much for you?’

“On the contrary; it is far too little, but my injury means my ability to drag you to my bed and beg for more is greatly impeded.”

“Good thing we live alone.” Duck pulls the blanket from Indrid’s lap, nibbles his ear as the seer catches on and begins frantically undoing the buttons of Duck’s workshirt and shoving his suspenders. When at last he pushes it open he loses himself a moment, tipping forward to tongue at the golden ring in Duck’s left nipple.

“AHheh, gettin right to it. Good” Duck unbuttons his pants, “because I’ve been wantin to fuck you since before we even came out here.”

“Oh I see” Indrid purrs, “you lured me into the countryside to sully my virtue.”

Duck laughs, full throated, as his tusks catch in the firelight, “You forgettin the time we got drunk instead of goin to the opera and you told me you convinced two sailors to take you home?”

“Only if you’ve forgotten telling me about the young ranch-hand you gave several rides to” Indrid nibbles along his neck, his twitching oddly in their quest to grind against him without jostling his ankle.

“Not a chance. But I don’t care about reminiscin right now; right now, I got the best lookin fella in the world beggin for my dick.”

“I’m not begging.” Indrid tilts his head back to help Duck get his shirt open some.

“Not yet.” Duck grins, then shoves his hand down his trousers.

“Ohhhhhyes” Indrid reaches for him.

“Keep your hands on the armrests until I say you can move ‘em.”

“But, but” it’s hard to argue when he’s trying to stare a hole through Duck’s remaining clothes. His partner notices and makes a show of moaning louder.

“Only good boys get to watch the show. You gonna be good for me?”

“The best.”

Duck kisses the tip of his nose, then wiggles and kicks his pants and underwear off. Indrid can only watch, growing more envious by the moment, as he fucks himself open and rubs a thumb along his cock. Indrid tries bucking his hips, only to discover Duck is keeping himself out of reach.

“Cruel creature.” Indrid groans.

“Cruel? I’m giving you a seat to the best show in town.”

“I’d rather you take the best seat in town.”

Duck laughs, is still doing so when he bends to kiss him. Indrid whimpers, nails digging into the upholstery to keep his promise of good behavior. Duck notices.

“Good boy.”

“AHHHnnnthankyou, thankyouthankyouthankyou” Indrid moans as Duck drops his weight into his lap, grinding on his clothed cock with abandon. He flings Indrids hands up to his shoulders. The seer glides them up to his hair, burying them there where he’s now certain they’ve always belonged. Duck mirrors him, lips only leaving his to bite the tip of his ear.

“Fuck, Indrid, that’s it darlin, lemme ride you like the sleek little beast you are.”

He whines, loses his thoughts as Ducks hips quicken.

“I know ‘Drid, you like bein mine, like that I’ll bounce on this fuckin perfect dick as often as you want as long as you’re my good, sweet, ohsweetfuck, fuck, darlin’” Duck drops his forehead to Indrid’s shoulder with a groan as he cums, soaking the fabric of his pants. Before Indrid can think about stopping, Duck picks up again with as much force as before, growling in his ear to be a good little social climber and cum for his lord.

Indrid cums at that with a chirping sound he thought he’d stopped making long ago, legs spasming from the force of his climax. Unfortunately, this means his pleasure is chased by a burst of pain. He whimpers, flinches, and Duck spots the problem.

“Oh, oh darlin I’m sorry” He drops to the floor, rubbing Indrid’s thighs, “thought the position would keep you from hurtin.”

“Apparently not. I, I want you to know I don’t regret it in the slightest.”

Duck smiles, relieved, and rests his head on Indrid’s stomach, “Guess you did find me a match, huh?”

Indrid bends slowly, nuzzling his hair with a hum, “Yes, I believe so.”

[citygirlinschool]

Breaking Bad

Read it on Ao3

Original bingo

~

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” 

“I have got two research papers pending, I am falling behind on my thesis and I have to submit Mr D’s essay on Monday. So yes, I am not coming.” Frank resisted the urge to physically pick up the boy from his bed and throw him out. 

He could if he wanted to. Leo was a tiny slip of a thing, all wild curls and ADHD. And gods did the boy tempt him to do some serious bodily harm to him.

“Come on man you haven’t come to a single party since well... ever. This one is supposed to be real rager.” 

With a jerked motion he stood up from his desk, threw his door open and marched towards the kitchen. 

“Is that supposed to be a No?” There was ruffling of sheets and Oh my Gods he was wearing shoes the whole time.

His eyes twitched and he slammed the glass on the counter with more force than necessary. A drink, that’s what he needs.

“Mixed signals buddy.” And there he was in all his flannel glory, and those hideous pun t-shirt (Never trust an atom, they make up everything). Never would he have guessed the devil would be a elf in science pun t-shirts. 

“No, Valdez. I am not coming to your rager party.” He made towards the refrigerator.

“Whatever man your loss.” 

There was an audible slam of the door as the fridge door fell of it’s hinges and over a startled Frank, followed by a crash of food spilling on to the floor.

“LEO!” 

~

“So, what was it this time?” 

“He broke the fridge.” Frank stabbed his food gloomily.

“And?” Percy waved a ketchup covered fry.

“He fixed the AC.” Frank mumbled.

“That’s good right?” 

“After he broke it.” He snorted.

Percy was in the year above him. Swim team captain and marine biology major. They met by accident and hit it off immediately.

They made it a point to meet in the dinner near the college campus once a week, or when they could.

“What else?” he drawled lazily, and Frank would feel guilty about turning all these meetings into venting sessions, except Percy wasn’t the type to entertain people just because it’s polite, so he probably didn’t mind.

“He brought someone back to the dorm. Again. Some blondie, Maria. This is the third this month. And it’s distracting, and I have told him clearly to bring someone when I am gone… How does he even land these many?” 

“He is kinda cute?” Percy shrugged.

Frank pulled a face. “He has a horrible track record. Can you believe he flirted with Ms Grace?” 

“To be fair he flirts with everybody. I don’t think it counts.” 

“Still. That’s the Thalia Grace.”

 “Touché. Talked to the Dean?” 

“Jason said, only Octavian is vacant. And that guy is… creepy.”

Percy nodded solemnly. “Heard he guts plush toys to some cult god he worships.” 

Frank looked at him wide eyes, and just like that Leo was forgotten. 

At least until he reached back to his dorm. 

“Frankie! You are back.” Leo flashed him his infuriating smirk that he knows gets on his every nerves. “Hazel was just leaving.” And that asshole turns to her, “Until you changed your mind and decided to stay.” 

He flirts with everybody; it doesn’t mean anything. Percy’s voice echoed warningly in his mind.

Hazel flushes, and looks down. Those flawless curls hiding reddened cheeks. “Thanks for the offer but I can’t stay past curfew.” 

“Aw.” Leo leans forward, “That’s not a no.” he wiggled his eyebrows. “Don’t be stickler for rules, get that enough from Frankie boo here.” 

This time Frank’s cheeks heat up. “Leo.” He hopes he would stop.

“Fine, Fine. Goodnight, Hazel.”

“Bye, Leo.” She presses her books to her chest, and Frank shuffles hurriedly to the side as Hazel moves past him.

He slams the door once Hazel is past. 

“So,” Leo straightens from where he was leaning against the wall. “Somebody has got a crush.”

“Don’t.”

“Cant blame you, she is a real looker.” 

“Oh, come on, don’t play.” He stalks back towards his room, his back toward the Latino. “You already knew that.” 

“I did?” there it is again, the annoying mocking tone he didn’t bother dignifying with a reply. But that didn’t deter Leo from barging in his room behind him either.

“I mean, were all those lectures ignored in the favour of staring at the back of her head, and doodling H+F in the back of your notebook, did give me an inclination but thought they stood for Himbo plus- “ 

“Shut up, asshole.” He whirled around. “You know I freaking liked her.” He stalked towards him. 

“Oh yeah like how you knew my Chatelier’s experiment made twelve percent of my grade?” 

“I apologized for it.” He spit back in his face, grabbing his forearms. 

“That doesn’t make up for it, jerk.” He hissed back.

Blood roared in his veins, drowning out any further jabbing remarks from the squirming boy in his arms.

Gods the things he would do to shut him up. 

“-and would you please let me go, I am pretty sure this counts as phys- Mmph! ” 

He kissed him. That annoying fucking mouth, with those pretty fucking lips. He bit on his lips tugging at them, pressing that tiny body against his.

He kissed him. Fuck.

Frank stumbled back in horror. “Shit I am sorry, I didn’t- “ 

“Oh no.” Leo lunged at him, and he stumbled back in surprise, catching his hips. “You would be sorry when I am done with you.” 

Harsh demanding lips pressed against him, a sharp nip and the metallic tang of blood spilled on his tongue, making him curse.

The heels of Leo’s feet dug in his back, “Bed, bed, bed!” He panted, slim but strong fingers tugging at his hair painfully, tilting it back. He grabbed his lips in another kiss that had his dick aching in his pants.

Frank stumbled blindly towards his twin bed, his hands groping the Latino’s ass, as they both fell on the congested bed in tangle of limbs.

Leo’s hand left his hair and trailed over his collar, clever fingers making a quick job of his shirt, hips shamelessly grinding in his abdomen. 

“Come on, man, get naked.” He ran his fingers over his chest, tweaking his nipples.

“Leo.” He pulled back, “Aren’t we going a bit fast.” 

Leo’s lips pulled back in a condescending sneer, “You sure you wanna be a cock blocker.”

His hand snaked down to the bulge in his pants, and he involuntarily humped forward into the pressure.   “I already hate you enough.”

That was a reminder enough. The clothes were gotten rid of in a flurry of uncoordinated limbs, and broken buttons, until a very naked Frank, had a very naked Leo in his lap. 

He dug his teeth into the hollow of his collar bones, and Leo hissed, but didn’t stop the wild rhythm of his hips. Frank’s hand squeezed the ample flesh in his hands and parting them. 

The head of his cock slipped between them, sliding over the fuzzy hole.

Leo’s hips stuttered, and he exhaled shakily, fingers digging in his shoulders hard enough that Frank knew they would leave welts.

“Lube? Tell me you have lube” his voice was so deep; it had his cock twitching.

“Top drawer, in the back.” He mumbled, leaning back until he was laying down as Leo stretched over him, searching his drawer.

He couldn’t help but mouth over his well formed abdomen, for his deceptively short stature he was strong. Lithe muscles and surprisingly broad shoulders. 

Fuck he hated him so much.

There was a click of lube opening, as Leo pulled back, his fingers dripping with lube.

He leaned forward, one hand beside his head while he reached behind him.

Frank knew the exact moment Leo’s fingers breached him. His eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched and his breathing became a tad bit heavier. 

He reached up, pressing a sweet almost a innocent kiss against his lips, and for a moment Leo let him. 

“Let me do it.”

And just like that Leo pulled away. 

His weeping cock bobbed proudly between his supple thighs, his dusky nipple looked raw and abused, there was a myriad of hickies littering his chest and his hair was wilder than usual. 

Yet, that jerk had the audacity to smirk mockingly at him.

“Not your girlfriend, Zhang. So don’t treat me like it.” he must have done something inside him cause his eyes fluttered for a moment. “Besides- Ah” his back arched, “we are doing this by-mmh- my rules, cause clearly you are as clueless in this-Ah!”

“What is your problem.” Frank had jostled his fingers out of him as he flipped them over. “I am just trying to be nice.” He snarled.

“No what you’re trying to do.” A lube covered finger smeared across his neck, “is fucking coddle me.” He spat.

“I am not coddling you.” He glared indignantly at the infuriating boy underneath him.

“Oh yeah? What is this? Fucking me? Please, you are not even in me.” He sneered mockingly.

“I am- I don’t –” Leo mercifully cut his spluttering off with a kiss.

“God I didn’t know I had to just spread my legs to get underneath your skin.”

He would have tried replying, except Leo had wrapped his lubed up hand around his dick, slicking it up with quick efficient strokes, and Frank had been so painfully hard all this time all he could do was helplessly jerk forward into the warm wet hole, until Leo tightened his grip. “Don’t come.” He warned, as he guided him to his stretched hole.

Frank to his dying day would deny the sound he emitted when his head slipped in.

A loud unashamed sound, as his head dropped onto Leo’s shoulder, as he panted harshly. Leo was tighter and hotter then anything he had ever felt before. And so deliciously soft.

He wouldn’t have been able to stop the unrelenting rolls of his hips as he pushed deeper if he wanted to.

Like he had no control over his hips, he pushed in inch after inch, as Leo’s back arched off the bed until Frank bottomed out.

For a moment Frank could just lay still and shiver so as to not bust a nut, Leo as so tight around him, it was probably painful for him.

“Move, move, move, jackass.” Or maybe not.

“Oh, gods fuck me, or I am gonna fuck up your laptop and not repair- Oh yesss!” Leo’s eyes rolled back in his head, as Frank pulled out almost all the way and then pushing in rapidly. 

“Why can’t you shut up for a moment.” Frank picked up his pace. “For once –mmh” his nipped at his ear, “just shut up- ah fuck- and moan.” 

“Maybe- mmph- Maybe if you put all that beef - oh Dios- and man boobs (he gripped said boobs) to use than I will.” 

Frank dug his teeth right below his ears, just shy of tearing skin, but definitely marring the skin, as he readjusted his grip, hooking his hands underneath his knees and practically folding the twink (because that’s what Leo fucking Valdez is and Frank is tired of lying) in half. 

He must have hit his prostrate with the deeper angle cause Leo made a he- would- never- admit- it- but- adorable high-pitched sound, his hands flying between his legs, except Frank slapped it away and wrapped his own hand around his flushed, almost painfully purple cock.

Much to his pleasure Leo hooked his own hand underneath his knees, holding himself open.

“Didn’t know” he panted, “all it took was a good dicking down to shut you up.” 

Leo’s eyes opened up to slits, in what he thinks is a glare, but it is hard to take him seriously on good days, even harder with his cock stupid bambi eyes, and drool covered chin.

Fuck! This is the hottest thing ever and Frank hates him so much.

Frank lost his carefully maintained rhythm, finally rutting in abandon. The bed creaked threateningly, the headboard banging fiercely with the force of his thrusts.

Paired with the slick sound of where Frank was jerking Leo off, slap of skin against skin and squelch of Frank fucking Leo, it sounded like a cheap porno.

Harsh breathing was littered with moans and litany of curses. There tongues ran sloppily against each other, Leo tweaked his nipples, clenching down on Frank as they both hurtled toward the peak like freight train.

The orgasm was a bang.

Literally. 

In hindsight, two fully grown men fucking on a barely hanging on twin bed was not the wisest plan. But what can he say? Leo brings out the worst in him.

“Did it?” Frank muttered tiredly. All he wanted to do was sleep.

“Get off.” Leo’s voice was slurred and strained, “You are suffocating me. And you are sleeping on the couch.” 

~

“What was it this time?” 

“The bed.” 

“Leo broke your bed?” 

“Something like that.” Frank mumbled.

[foulserpent]

@fantrorillaz submitted:

Guys, guys you’re not gonna believe this, so I fuckin’ I fuckin go to Peynon Wir- Weypon pir- fuck. I’m going to Weynon Priory because the fuckin, he’s like, he’s like the king of all of Tamriel this is Uriel. Fucking. Septim. And you guys know I’m not a fan of his work, but like, Xikeel was like sitting there filing her nails or somethin ignoring every word he said but I shit you not this fuckin, goblet-swilling like imperial dude. Yknow how like the super rich imperials are always swilling goblets like “oh! It uh- fluctuates the subtle flavor notes!” Or whatever but it doesn’t really do anything I imagine if he had like, some wine with him he’d be doing that even though, and I forgot to say this, he had a VERY large stab wound; that he kinda deserved not just because he’s the emperor, but guys; guys he fuckin would. Not. Shut. Up. About how he was gonna die. Not in the like “oh I’m so old! Gonna kick the bucket any day now!” But this man was like, takin it like a champ. Whole time he was like “yep! Gonna get murdered, it’s my destiny to die in this very spot!” I shit you not he almost pointed to the exact fuckin, dusty-ass corner of the dungeon that’s practically IDENTICAL to all other dungeons and STOOD there while some guy who has to conjure his own armor sneaks up from behind with the grace of a fucking. Like a fucking cave troll with his arms like *this* and everything and stabbed the man right there before like thirty guys with curved swords hacked him to pieces.

But anyway- oh yeah. Xikeel was like picking up the knife, lookin at it, looting the other dead bodies like she really didn’t give a shit and Yknow what I didn’t either but this guy he was talking 1. End of the world 2. Everyone dying 3. Some other dark shit and then; and then this guy fuckin, lobs this jewel the size of my fucking palm, like, [shows hand] you see my hand here? It was like from like, the middle part of my fingers here like to joint to the bottom of my palm that’s how huge it was. Nearly fuckin. Beamed me in the skull.

But anyway he says if I don’t want all that very bad shit to happen to everyone including me; I need to take it to some - I think his name was Jeff? Jeff. What a stupid fuckin name. Anyway I need to bring it to Jeff in Weynon Priory so I go do that. Shit’s the first thing I do because I’m freakin’ out because it’s the fuckin oblivion crisis not like- the oblivion vacation or the oblivion... thing but like an actual, interplanar demonic invasion typea crisis. So guys I get there, and I meet this Jeff guy and he’s like a monk, like you know monks, right? Not even like the cool kind we’re talking shitty robes, stupid haircut, probably just... sits in a chair and eats bread and cheese all day and he’s not allowed to speak and he’s like, this secondary old guy. So I tell Jeff I show him the fuckin’. Stone. Which at this moment I realize is the amulet of kings cause the guy tells me it is and WOW it’s UGLY, like if I was emporer you would not catch me dead wearing that shit.

Do y- do you think all emperors have like really strong necks? Do you think they just have big, beefy neck muscles under those HYUGE fur collar coat thingies from wearing this fucking paperweight all the time? Every septim probably has a thick neck or a really bad back probably, would explain a lot. Where was I? Oh yeah so we- Xikeel’s still there she’s kinda tagging along we’re buds, and it’s the end of the world so we’re gonna stick together. We give Jeffery the fucking amulet and then he tells us to go to Kvatch and my feet already fuckin’ hurt cause I had to like step on rocks n shit barefoot until I could find real shoes cause they don’t give you shoes in prison, but I’m gonna go anyway, I gotta go find a priest in kvatch and bring him back because apparently he’s some secret bastard king deal.

So I get there. And there’s an oblivion gate. And there’s spiders and alligator things and dremora and all this other shit I want NOWHERE near me but like. It’s in the way I gotta get into the church I gotta get the fucker back to Weynon Priory cause it’s the oblivion crisis so I gotta fuckin- use my shitty sword and bow and stuff and I’m mostly there as backup Xikeel is KILLING it and I mean that makes sense she’s some kind of like, assassin... thing... so it was actually pretty easy with her and we get to the church. Guys. This priest is so fuckin hot. Like I’m not saying he was tall had big muscles a nice chin, I’m sayin like, he’s like very “30s-40s got his life figured out gay man” with like a- like a he’s gotta bit of padding he’s a bit- what’s the word kids are saying “”thick”” ? Am I saying that right? He was... “”thick””?! I don’t fuckin care dude was hot. Anyway we get back to this monastery yankin my collar the whole time, I- I may have undone a button or two Yknow just get the pecs- the pec- the one pec I have kinda out with the chest hair and the scar to kinda try to look hot. Anyway, we get back to Weynon Priory and shit’s on fire, people are screaming and there’s fucking wizards. Everywhere. Like you know how you can have like rats...? Or flies...? This place had like a huge wizard infestation and they were just. Beating the SHIT out of everyone. So I run in kinda. Flailing my sword and at this point I am HUNGRY like I have had not had 1. Lunch 2. Or dinner. Like I broke out of prison right when they were gonna feed me like the dude with the fuckin’ tray was coming down the isle like “here’s your slop you elven scum” and I’d be like “thank you very much sir for the delicious food!” But no I gotta deal with this fuckin. Wizard infestation on an empty stomach.

So anyway like we get rid of the wizards, almost everyone’s dead and Jeff is like. “[gasp] the amulet of kings!” Like he didn’t have it on his fuckin person and I’m like... what’s going on? What’s wrong? I follow this guy upstairs and he’s checking his like desk drawer. Guys I shit you not he put the amulet of kings in his fucking desk with like. His keys and his lozenges and stuff. He didn’t even lock- he didn’t even lock it! He hid it like- he hid it like one of those jokes you play on your friends like “Oh no where did my inkwell go!!” And you just sit there with a smarmy look on your face while your friend fiddles around for it for like- an extra two seconds. Anyway, now I gotta go infiltrate their fuckin- wizard cult base and get the amulet back and hopefully it’ll be just that easy... but probably not... because seriously this whole thing has been a slog. Anyway guys thanks for coming to the stream see ya.

[scribble-games]

Hi! Don’t know if you are still doing Angel vignettes, but here are some ideas :) :(A) Angel revealing the story behind a scar to 180, (B) the POV of Angel learning about 180s torture/backstory while at DIABLO HQs, (C) the aftermath of Angel making his first casualty on the job or finding the body of someone he knew. Thanks!

I chose C! I wouldn’t normally do big backstory stuff like this, but I’ve written it all up now, so just this once y’all can have a little spoilers. As a treat.

Content warnings: gore, eye injury, implied assault, death, drug mention

The man reels back, clutching at his face. His eyeball bulges out of the swollen lids, almost out of the socket, as red and angry as the man's mottled cheeks. His mouth hangs open and a guttural cry rips from his throat.

Noise. Fuck, if others come to help him...

Angel hadn't even realised that he'd made a note of the things on the desk, but his hand goes for the letter opener as if he'd planned it all along, and it's like the weapons trainer is speaking in his head. Soft spot under the chin. Blade's blunt, needs to be hard and fast, put your weight into it. He does, puts so much force into it that he knocks the man to the floor, falling on top of him.

The man's scream cuts off. His mouth gapes open as if in indignation, and Angel sees the glint of metal within, the blood oozing from his split tongue and pouring out of his lips. Still he's moving, limbs flailing; Angel bears down until everything, finally, stops.

Angel stands up. He rearranges his clothes. His shirt won't button right. There's some missing, must have been torn off. Where did they go? He looks down at the carpet, then shakes himself. Stupid. These clothes will need to be burned anyway, get rid of the blood and evidence.

He looks down at the body.

Fuck.

Now it's the spectre of Azazel with him, coolly judgemental. You didn't plan for this, did you? If there's going to be bodies, there needs to be a plan.

Angel grits his teeth. There was a plan. It just needs some - adjustments, now. He hurries to the door of the office and presses his ear against it. No sounds of footsteps, doesn't seem like anyone's rushing to see what's going on. They must be expecting a certain amount of noise, right? Don’t want to barge in and get an eyeful of the boss. A giggle tries to work its way up Angel’s throat and he forces it back down. It’s hard to keep from laughing, though. He feels… giddy, like a cocaine high, his heart pounding a staccato rhythm.

Ok. So. So, first he should do what he's here for.  

There was a box of tissues that got knocked to the floor when Angel was sitting up on the desk. He wipes the blood off his hands, then wraps some more tissue around his fingers as he starts going through the drawers. Just like the client said, there’s a little notebook locked in the top drawer with a password list. There’s also a revolver in one of the drawers. Its weight is reassuring, as is the familiar ritual of checking and loading the gun, swinging the cylinder back into place with a satisfying click before tucking the gun into the back of his jeans. He switches the computer on, finds the necessary files, and hesitates. The client said to send direct if possible, but after this? Fuck that. Angel wants to make sure he’s going to get paid what he deserves for this mess. He copies the folders onto a flash drive and shoves it into his pocket.

Now there’s just the one problem. He stares down at the body, willing some good idea to present itself. There’s no way to make this look like anything but murder. People don’t stab themselves like that. Could he take the letter opener and then shoot the guy in the same spot to cover it up? No, the noise. And the eye would still be suspicious.

He could just leave, right? But people saw them. He’d get away with it this time since no one knows him, but it wouldn’t look good for future jobs. DIABLO want ghosts, not people who leave a trail behind. But he can’t haul the body out of here by himself, not without being seen.

He catches sight of himself in the window. Wide-eyed, dishevelled, and -  he raises a hand to gently touch the sore skin – already there are livid marks showing on his throat. People would be sympathetic to that, right? Could he spin some story, get help? From who, though? Everyone here works for the dead man. Why would they feel any sympathy? Angel won’t have been the first cute young thing to be brought back here.

He traces the marks again, thoughtful. There’s an idea forming. Maybe not a good one, but the only one he’s got. But he’s going to need something to put the body in.

Very carefully, he cracks the door open and glances out. Empty, for now. Which door does he need? Where had the guy been trying to go, before Angel had cajoled him into getting a look at the office?  He takes a guess, and is relieved to find himself in a large bedroom. Bedding, good. Dry cleaning bags in the wardrobe, even better. He scuttles back to the office and begins to wrap the man up.

Several minutes and a swift descent down the drainpipe later, Angel drops to the ground with the dead man’s car keys clutched in one sweating fist. Gravel crunches beneath his feet. He moves towards the parked Jaguar as silently as possible and hides behind it. Sweat blurs his vision and he has to wipe it away with his sleeve. The giddiness is turning to nausea.

There’s a voice changer function on his phone. He must have collected enough of a sample of the man’s voice, the guy was a real talker. Now he just needs to remember… he screws his eyes closed, trying to concentrate. When they first arrived and the man had called over to his security guy, what was the name?

He licks his lips, then presses the call button.

“Sir?” comes the muffled voice.

“Marc,” says Angel, and the changer produces the wheezy tones of the dead man. “There’s been a small complication. Go upstairs, you’ll find a package that I need you to dispose of. I’ll be taking the Jaguar. If anyone asks, I’ve been out all evening.”

There’s a pause, and Angel bites his lip so hard he starts tasting blood.

“I don’t remember seeing you this evening, sir,” says Marc, and Angel punches the air in silent jubilation. “I will take care of that other matter.”

“Very good. I’ll be sure to reflect that in your pay this month,” Angel says, and hangs up. He has to force himself to go up the driveway at a casual pace, but once he hits the road he floors it. Adrenaline is surging through him and he’s riding the wave now, every inch of him alive. Time to meet up with the client again. Time to renegotiate some terms.

--

(tbh I could do option B, but it’s basically, Angel reads the file that says what happened and goes ‘huh, that’s fucked up’. They wouldn’t have any kind of strong reaction to it)

[sympathyfortheblinderdevil]

All Is Fair: Ch. 19 Velvet

Tommy's plans have everything to do with a little velvet box. Ada and Polly have reservations, but Tommy is off to the country to bring back his bride.

Sorry for the giant-ass hiatus. I've had Covid and complications from Covid, so it has been tough to find my muse. I hope you like this offering.

“On the table by the window will be fine, and if Mrs. Gray arrives before we’ve come down, send her up here,” Ada spoke quietly to the maid who had brought a tray of tea and scones into the bedroom. She didn’t want to wake the boys, who were sleeping uncharacteristically late for a Christmas morning. Her own chances for a good night’s sleep had been poor to nonexistent after Tommy dropped his bombshell.

She’d had a bath and fixed her face and hair before the sun crept over the eastern treeline of Tommy’s estate. By the time the sky had begun to fade into the bruised lavender shade that she loved best, she had slipped into a burgundy satin and velvet pantsuit. She stood at the window and watched the dawn go fuchsia, then salmon, and finally pale blue before she rang for tea. The loosely draped satin of her top flowed like liquid as she poured her first cup and waited for Aunt Pol.

Like many others who were raised with very little, Polly celebrated Christmas in a big way. The loss of her own children and the hardships she faced while raising her nieces and nephews had meant that she couldn’t get enough of a proper Christmas morning through the eyes of a child. Polly made it a point to be with Charlie or Karl or both on Christmas morning, and she brought enough gifts to make Croesus blush. True to form, she came down Tommy’s drive, fresh from sunrise mass, as Ada poured her second cup of tea. Ada stifled a giggle as she watched one of the house boys struggle under the weight of a huge red flannel bag filled with gifts, but her lightened mood was short-lived as her mind returned to the news she had to relay to her aunt.

“Happy Christmas, Ada,” Polly sang as she walked through the door and pulled Ada into a hug.

Ada squeezed her back with all her might inhaling deeply the scent of French perfume. When she pulled away, she placed her finger to her lips to warn Aunt Pol to be quiet. “The boys aren’t awake yet. Have some tea.”

“I’d rather go wake the boys. Who ever heard of having a lie in on Christmas morning?”

Ada wrinkled her brow and gestured toward the sitting area, “I really need to speak with you before this all gets started. It’s Tom.”

As they settled into a pair of dainty boudoir chairs, Polly lit a long brown cigarette and sighed, “This had better not ruin my Christmas. What’s he done now?”

“Well there are two things, and they are somewhat related,” Ada started. As much thought as she had given the recent turn of events, when it came down to telling Aunt Polly, she didn’t quite know where to begin.

Polly took a long drag on her cigarette and blew the smoke towards the window, where the draft from the aging sill sent it wafting into curlicues. “Take your time, love, but those boys will be awake before long.”

Ada looked down at her fidgeting hands. “Esme is in town, and Tommy is getting married.”

Polly sat up noticeably straighter and raised her voice. “And just exactly how are those two things related?”

“Tommy is marrying Lia, but I think Esme is partially responsible for his sudden decision to propose.”

The whole story came spilling out of Ada starting with how Jenny came after Tommy, armed with information that she got from her copper boyfriend and Esme. “She told him that if he really cared about Lia, he’d let her go before she got hurt.” She took a deep breath and wrinkled her nose, nearly afraid to voice her thoughts to Pol, “I’m convinced that he’s marrying the girl half out of spite.”

Polly nodded knowingly. “And the other half is that he loves her and doesn’t want to lose her. This impulsivity, it isn’t like him.”

“Apparently, Esme laid it on rather thick. She had Jenny talking about tormented souls and such.”

Polly was taken aback. That Esme—she could hold a grudge like no other. The family would need to get a handle on her. On the other hand, all of their lives depended on the protection and discretion of Moss and his men. If there was any trouble in the ranks, it would need to be swiftly dealt with. Jenny’s man was a liability.

“Is Tommy getting rid of the copper?”

Ada nodded in the affirmative. “Tommy contacted Moss and to let him know about the leak in his department. He told Moss that the money that changes hands between them is meant to ensure discretion on the part of his officers and that any more exceptions would mean a change in leadership at the top. The only reason that Jenny’s man hasn’t been permanently reassigned to guarding the prison’s shithouses is that Tommy ordered him to keep Jenny away from Lia. At least until he can marry her.”

Polly nodded and raised her eyebrows in agreement. “What about Esme?”

“He said wants to make things right with her. He said it’s not right that she’s a Shelby, but she won’t even take our money for her children. He wants to call a truce and set something up for her and the kids.”

Polly scoffed, “I’ll handle Esme. She’s more likely to take it if it’s coming from me.”

A melancholy feeling came over Ada all of a sudden. She remembered taking care of John’s kids when Martha died. They were like her little brothers and sisters, but before long Freddie was back from France and babysitting was the farthest thing from her mind. Then a few years later they lost John on Christmas day. She wished she had spent more time with them all. Maybe there was hope for some kind of reconciliation. It would be nice to have John’s children around.

There were sounds of movement in the hallway, and they realized that their time was almost up. Polly leaned forward and asked, “And this marriage proposal? Did you see it coming?”

Ada cut her eyes toward the door then back to Polly. “No, Aunt Pol, just a few days ago I was worried that he was growing bored of her and that he was going to break her heart. I believe that when Jenny told him that Esme was on about curses and the blood of the innocent on his hands, it got to him. I think he has it in his mind that Lia is his second chance...his saving grace. He says he wants to keep her safe, give her the Shelby name. He kept saying that he doesn’t want to lose her. He was saying things like, ‘I have to do this the right way this time.’ Just talk to him. I’d love to have her in the family, but she's not like us. I want to see Tom happy, but it’s not fair to drag her into this life without knowing what she’s getting into.”

***

The following morning, Tommy stepped into his study to find Polly curled up on the end of the couch while she smoked and waited for her tea to cool.

He circled around his desk, unlocked the drawer, and slid a blue velvet box into his coat pocket before announcing, “I’m off”

Polly smiled into her teacup, “Where are you going?”

“You know where, Pol,” he grunted as he pulled on his overcoat.

“Do you love her?”

“Yes. As much as I’ve ever loved anything.”

“Anything or anyone?” She let her words settle on him as she took a long drag from her cigarette. “You know there's a difference, right? I know she makes you feel alive and strong. I know she adores you and makes you feel like the most important person in the world, but, Tommy, she’s a real woman with a real heart that can be broken.”

“I know that. No one’s heart is getting broken.”

He crossed the room to where Polly sat and gazed down at her with those limpid blue eyes that made her want to believe him.

“I know what I’m doing, Pol. No one’s heart will be broken.”

She reached out for his hand and squeezed it with both of hers, softly smiled, and whispered, “Alright, Tommy, alright.”

***

Tommy walked along the path that led to the barn, his boots crunching into the near-frozen gravel. His left arm swung at his side; the fingers of his right hand unconsciously rubbed the velvet of the ring box that was nestled in the pocket of his coat.

As he approached the barn, he could hear the rise and fall of indistinct voices. One of them was unmistakably hers. He stopped walking and took in the scene before him. A few milk cans stood against the wall, and a hay wagon was parked beside a neatly kept fence. A collie poked her muzzle out of the barn door, perked up her ears, and warily barked.

“What is it, girl?” Lia said as she patted the dog’s back and stepped around her.

He hardly recognized the girl standing before him: face scrubbed clean, hair tied back with a workman’s kerchief, clad in dungarees crammed into muck boots, and a barn jacket that was at least two sizes too big for her.

“Tommy! What on earth are you doing here?” she gasped.

A weathered voice called from behind her, “Who’s here Lia-Bug?”

Her father came out of the stall just in time to see Lia rush to Tommy and throw her arms around him.

“I can’t believe you’re here. You should’ve sent word that you were coming.” Her muffled words were warm as she nuzzled her chilled face into his neck.

Tommy gently pulled her away to his side and cleared his throat. Lia’s father stood a few feet away, wiping his hands on a kerchief like the one tied in Lia’s thick waves. His moss-green eyes never wavered from Tommy’s as he spoke, “Auralia, where are your manners?”

He stepped up to Tommy with his hand extended, “Patrick Montrose. You must be Thomas Shelby.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Montrose. Call me Tommy.”

With his hand gripped firmly around Tommy’s he returned, “Alright, Tommy. You might as well call me Paddy since we’re damn near the same age.”

[cpd5021]

How to Save a life...

Hello again! I’m back with another multi-chapter fic! I told myself I was going to finish writing this whole story before I posted it, but we all know I don’t have that kind of self control. So instead, here we are with chapter one of my music inspired fic. Long story short, I found an old iPod of mine with lots of old, somewhat angsty music and it led to me writing this fic. Worth noting is that teenage me was OBSESSED with the early season Grey’s Anatomy soundtracks, so if you’re familiar with them at all, you’ll quickly notice a theme. Anywhoo, this fic is going to be full of angst, just fyi. Eventual Upstead, but this starts out as a pretty Hailey centric fic. Although Jay will be right beside her every step of the way. Buckle up, she’s a long one. Here we go!

Chapter One:  

Where did I go wrong,

I lost a friend.

     A Tuesday morning that started like any other, except it was only my second day back from New York. Yesterday had been filled with paperwork, debriefings, an hour with Platt where I wasn’t really sure what was accomplished, and finally, an evening at Molly’s with the whole unit. It felt good to be back and I was already settling right back in, almost as if I had never left. Everyone had been excited to welcome me home and of course the teasing about me turning into a Fed ran rampant throughout the night. But I was home, with my people, and that’s all that mattered to me. I woke up early this morning, quickly showering in an attempt to rid myself of the remnants of last night's multiple rounds of tequila and popped two aspirin before I headed downstairs. I found Vanessa in the kitchen, her upper body sprawled across the counter as she waited for the coffee to finish brewing and the sight brought a smile to my face. She had celebrated my return probably harder than anyone and I had no doubt she was feeling it this morning. I made my way over to the cupboard just above her and rested my hand on her back as I grabbed two travel mugs from the shelf. She groaned in response before pushing herself back into a standing position, rubbing at her eyes before squinting at me in the dim morning light. 

“You know, I’m pretty sure I told you to stop after that third shot.”

I teased, filling each of the mugs. She groaned again, feigning annoyance at my words. 

“Yeah yeah, I was just happy you were back.”

She took the mug from my hand and moved to the table to grab her things. I followed after her, grabbing my phone and keys from their spot before heading out the door behind her. We climbed into my car and she immediately shifted the seat back slightly to recline herself, draping her jacket over her face to block the sunlight. 

“I’m pretty sure you would be more happy this morning if you had listened to me.”

I teased again, earning another groan and a middle finger. I laughed at the sight and started the car, shifting into gear and pointing us in the direction of the district. 

We made the journey to the 21st in what felt like record time, probably because I was happy to finally be making this drive again, and I found myself grinning once again as Vanessa rolled herself out of the passenger seat, grumbling as she made her way towards the building. A familiar voice sounded behind me as I followed after her and I turned to see Jay jogging to catch up with us. Vanessa didn’t stop, instead settling for a slight wave of her hand as she continued her way into the building. 

“She seems pleasant this morning.”

Jay nodded in her direction before looking down at me with a grin. He knew exactly how much she had drank last night and that she would be suffering today. 

“I told her she should have listened to me.”

I shrugged, starting my walk towards the building as Jay fell in step beside me.

“Ouch. You gave her an ‘I told you so’? Harsh.”

He grinned down at me as I playfully smacked his shoulder. Kevin and Adam lingered by the front door, with Adam looking about as rough as Vanessa and Kevin seeming just as amused. I pulled the door open and they all trailed in behind me, bantering as we made our way into the main lobby. Platt, sat at her perch and peering down at us as usual, snapped her paper closed as she saw us approach. 

“Well if it isn’t goldilocks and her three bears. Looking a little rough this morning…”

Her attention was on Adam who merely nodded her way, his sunglasses still settled firmly over his eyes. I sent a small smile towards Platt and then headed up the stairs, my three bears in tow. We filed into the bullpen, finding Vanessa already sat at her desk, digging for medicine in her drawers and I made my way over to my own desk, plopping onto my chair and wiggling the mouse to wake my computer up. I shrugged out of my coat, draping it on the chair behind me and went to log in to my emails before Voights gruff voice filled the office. 

“Upton. A word.”

He said before promptly turning back into his office. I exchanged a quick glance with Jay who sent me a shrug and a confused look before I walked into the office, shutting the door behind me. Voight could sometimes be a hard man to read, but his current body language with his arms crossed over his chest and his jaw set in a way that made me think he was holding something back, instantly had my nerves on edge. He nodded for me to sit down and I followed his lead, watching as he leaned forward in his own chair, resting his elbows on the desk and letting his head fall into his hands as he rubbed his temples. This wasn’t going to be good, I could already feel the pit growing in my stomach. We sat in silence for longer than I was comfortable with, but I didn’t want to be the first one to speak. 

“We have a problem.”

He spoke softly, rubbing at his chin while his eyes bore into mine. I wasn’t sure how to respond to that so I settled for a nod of my head, urging him to go on. 

“Gael got a real good lawyer. They found a flaw in his ‘open and closed’ case. Gael is being released, today.” 

His words hit me like a freight train. My body instantly went cold. Gael was the whole reason I was in New York, the lines I had crossed to put him in jail, risking my career and this unit's future...to learn that it had all been for nothing had my heart sinking. I wanted to argue, to yell that it wasn't fair and that he should never be let out, but I knew I didn’t really have a leg to stand on.

“That’s not the problem.”

Voight’s words threw me for a loop, how could that not be our problem? I tilted my head, sending him a confused look. 

“Word on the street is, Gael knows that the drugs were planted in his car by police and there’s a damn good chance he’s figured it out. Or thinks he’s figured it out.”

His nod towards Vanessa was subtle but enough to sink me even more.

“None of this is on her. She doesn’t even know.”

I shook my head, clenching my fists as my blood began to boil. 

“I know.”

He said calmly, in a way that angered me even more. 

“How are we going to get him off her back? We can’t let him get to her.”

I swallowed hard, my nostrils flaring as the emotions coursed through me. Voight leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest once again as his eyes never left mine. 

“We start by clueing her in to the whole story.”

Everything in me screamed at the idea. Not only would that put her job in danger, it would crush her to know what I had done. I couldn’t stand the thought but couldn’t see another way. Voight watched the range of emotions play out on my face before he stood from his chair, pulling his office door open just enough to call for Vanessa. I wanted to turn to look at Jay, to have him somehow tell me this wasn’t all my fault, even though it was and I knew it, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn around. I heard Vanessa shuffle into the room, closing the door behind herself and instantly sitting down beside me. I couldn’t look at her either, even though her eyes were boring into the side of my face before darting to Voight and back. 

“Vanessa, we need to explain something to you so we can figure out our next steps.”

Voight spoke, drawing her attention away from me for just a moment before her eyes quickly returned to me. 

“Next steps for what?”

She asked, sounding genuinely confused, her stare only increasing. I couldn’t look at her, I was barely holding it together as is and I knew if I saw her face when she heard the news that I would crumble. I furiously blinked away the tears that threatened to gather in my eyes, hoping she wouldn’t notice. But under her intense look, of course she noticed. Her hand came to rest softly on my forearm, giving it a reassuring squeeze and causing me to have to swallow hard as my throat began to burn with tears. 

“Gael is being released from prison. His lawyer found a loophole and his case is being thrown out.”

Voight began, his words confusing her even more and her gaze finally shifted to him, her hand never leaving my arm. 

“So what? We need to go after him again? Build another case?”

She asked, instantly shifting into cop mode, a fact that would have normally made me smile with pride at the officer she was becoming. But instead it only made my heart sink more. 

“No. We won’t be doing anything. Other than keeping you safe.”

At his statement, I quickly closed my eyes as I felt wetness gather there, knowing they would spill at any moment.

“Me? Sarge, I don’t understand…”

I knew she was looking at me again but I kept my eyes clamped shut, waiting for him to drop the bomb. 

“Gael somehow knows that the drugs they found in his car were planted there by police. He knows you were personally tied to the case so he’s linking you to this whole situation.”

Her grip on my arm tightened and when she spoke I could hear some fear trickle into her voice.

“Sarge, I didn’t...I would never.”

She stammered, trying in vain to prove her innocence. 

“I know it wasn’t you.”

He said softly, trying to reassure her. The room fell silent for a moment and I could practically feel her putting two and two together. Her grip on my arm faltered slightly and I finally forced myself to open my eyes, still avoiding meeting hers. 

“Hailey…”

It came out as a mixture of a question and a statement. She wasn’t stupid and had instantly realized what had occured, but I knew she was having a hard time believing it. I couldn’t respond, I didn’t know what to say to explain myself. I had never meant to cause any issues, I just wanted to get a bad man off the streets and if that meant helping out a friend in the meantime then so be it. I had never in a million years expected this to blow up and I had really hoped after my stint in New York I would be able to put this all behind me. 

“Vanessa we’re going to have you lay low until we can figure out a plan. We might be able to set another case up to get him put away, but it’s going to have to be by the book. Gael’s not stupid and if we come at him again he’s going to fight back.” 

She nodded at Voight’s instructions but her eyes were once again glued to the side of my head. I swallowed hard and pushed myself to meet her gaze, seeing a mix of anger and hurt behind her eyes once they reached mine. 

“Why would you...how could you?”

She stammered out her words, shaking her head slightly as if still in disbelief. 

“I’m sorry Vanessa..I just thought-”

She cut me off before I could continue, standing abruptly from her spot beside me. 

“No. You didn’t think. That’s the problem.”

And with that she stormed out of the office, slamming the door shut behind her. I stayed firmly planted in my seat, reeling from the blow I had just received. It had been well deserved but that didn’t make it hurt any less. 

“I’ll have you grounded here too until we can figure this out. I don’t want you anywhere near this case, is that clear?”

He asked, waiting for me to make eye contact to assure I was listening. 

“Yes sir.”

I all but whispered, my voice thick with emotion. I stood then and slowly pulled the door open, immediately turning down the hall towards the locker room before anyone could see my face. I stormed all the way to the back, towards where the bathroom stalls were and briefly debated locking myself inside to fall apart. But I knew if I let myself do that then I would have a hard time coming back out. Instead, I headed towards the sink, running the cool water and splashing some on my face. I looked at myself in the mirror and felt disgusted with the person looking back. How could I have let this happen, how could I have done this, crossed these lines and put everyone at risk. It made me feel sick. Just as I was drying my face off with a paper towel, I heard footsteps come up behind me and turned to find Jay standing there, looking concerned. 

“Everything okay?”

He asked, taking another step closer. I tried my best to put a smile on my face but I knew he would see right through me.

“Nope. And I don’t know how to fix it.”

I waved my hands up in frustration, feeling the emotions once again gather at the back of my throat. 

“Is there anything I can do?”

He asked, his voice genuine and filled with care. I couldn’t handle this right now. I couldn’t handle Jay being Jay and looking at me like I couldn’t do anything wrong. He knew the story, I had told him the night Voight sent me away. I figured I at least owed him an explanation before I disappeared off to New York. But I had hoped it would be the last time we had ever talked about it. I shook my head, dipping my head slightly before sending him an empty smile. 

“No. This doesn’t involve you and I’m not bringing any more people into it.”

With that, I brushed past him, ignoring the way his face displayed some hurt from my words, and made my way back out into the bullpen. 

     Only a short while after I had settled into my desk, aimlessly scrolling through emails I wasn’t actually reading and ignoring the concerned looks from Jay, Voight came out of his office. 

“Alright listen up, we have a case. Rojas and Upton, I’m pulling you. I want you two to go sort through some case files Platt left downstairs. Stay put until I tell you otherwise. I stood from my desk immediately, warding off all the looks being sent my way as I rushed from the room. I could hear Vanessa right behind me but didn’t dare turn to face her. We entered the rollup, finding a stack of boxes on a table in the corner and settled into our task silently. I didn’t know what to say to her to fix this, I didn’t want to upset her more or push her further away. After a while though, I couldn’t stand the silence any more. 

“Can I explain?”

I asked quietly, hoping she wouldn’t immediately shut me out. 

“I don’t think you need to. I know you well enough to know what happened Hailey, I just can’t believe it.”

Her words were cold and harsh. My throat felt tight once again. 

“I only did what-”

I started, only to be cut off with a raise of her hand.

“I know what you did. And why. You planted the drugs to get him the deal, for me. You jeopardized your career, all of our careers, for me? I guess I should be honored or something. But Hailey, you could have been fired. Or worse, sent to jail. And then the whole time you’re in New York I was over here thinking you’ve been given this amazing opportunity because you’re just that good...and it was really just a punishment? Over something that could have ruined all of us? I just...I don’t get it.”

Before I had the chance to reply, she stood angrily from her perch beside the table and stormed out of the room. I hesitated for a moment before I slowly followed after her. I made it all the way up the stairs,  my eyes scanning the empty bullpen for her when I spotted her small frame hovering over Kevin’s computer. Her eyes darted to mine for a moment before she jogged past me, heading back down the stairs into the roll up. I wanted to follow her again but the look on her face had me curious as to what she had found on Kevin’s computer. I rounded his desk quickly, looking at the screen which held a pinged address, the name under the small picture of a building read Gael and my heart sank. Not only was my unit headed there for who knows what, but I had no doubt that Vanessa intended to follow them. I turned and raced down the stairs, hoping to catch her before it was too late. Luckily, Vanessa didn’t have a car of her own and leaving with a UC or patrol car would require her to check in with Platt whom I’m sure was all too familiar with our grounding. I found her lingering by the side door, looking panicked as she considered her limited options. Her eyes met mine once again and I saw a determination within them that frightened me.

“Vanessa...you can’t.”

She let out a cold laugh, shaking her head as she looked at me.

“So now you wanna stick to the rules?”

She challenged, making my blood boil just a bit. 

“Yeah, I do. I already messed this up enough. We sit tight. They have this.”

I tried to reason with her, while at the same time talking myself down from racing out the door and doing the same thing she wanted too. The look on her face told me she was leaving one way or another and I wasn’t going to win this battle. 

     I knew the repercussions of what we were doing was liable to get us both in some hot water, but that didn’t stop me from pulling my car up behind Jay’s truck and shutting it off. Vanessa immediately jumped out, with me hot on her heels. The team was nowhere in sight and I assumed they were all inside the large warehouse, I just didn’t know how long they had been there. I followed closely behind her, trying to quietly draw her attention to the fact that we couldn’t just barge in without the risk of our own unit shooting us down. But Vanessa was on a mission and my words never reached her ears. She found a door at the back of the building and pushed her way inside. I drew my gun, blindly following behind her into the dimly lit room. We travelled down a hallway that ended with a flight of metal stairs leading up to a second level and without hesitation she was climbing up them at a rapid pace. I followed behind, pausing when a step protested loudly under my weight and when I looked back up she had disappeared from view. I took a few more steps before I heard footsteps behind me, I turned just as a beam of light hit my face. When the light lowered I was met with Jay’s eyes looking confused and angry at my presence. 

“I could have shot you! What are you doing here?”

He hissed, closing the distance between us. 

“Vanessa.”

I nodded up the stairs, letting him know I wasn’t alone in this awful idea. His jaw clenched as he followed my nod, before we quickly made our way up the steps. As we cleared the landing, voices sounded from down the hall. I heard Vanessa’s voice, trying to reason with whoever she was talking to. My heart sank when a man responded and I recognized the voice as Gael’s. My eyes shifted back to Jay’s, sharing a look of panic before we made our way down the hall, guns drawn. Just as we approached the doorway where the other two were, I heard Vanessa’s voice again.

“No!”

She screamed, seconds before a gunshot sounded from the room. Jay whipped into the room, instantly firing off two shots of his own. I rounded the frame just behind him and felt my body go ice cold as I took in the sight before me. My body moved on autopilot as I raced to her side, her body limp on the ground as a pool of blood rose from her chest. My hands pressed into the blood, trying in vain to stop the flow but I could feel it rushing out around my fingers. Her face was pale as she looked up at me with a terrified expression and my world closed in around me as I watched the life begin to fade from her eyes.

[for-a-muse-of-fire]

oh, but you’re good to me

the wench and the witcher

"oh, but you’re good to me”

Fandom: The Witcher (2019)

Paring: Geralt of Rivia x Black!OFC - Zahra Auberel. Platonic!Jaskier x Zahra.

Summary:  Midaëte brings the height of summer, and a reconciliation. 

Warnings: Rated Mature due to brief mention of sex. Please don’t interact if you are under the age of 18.

A/N: Well, what started as a simple reader insert character grew into a fully-formed OC through the course of this series. And now we have reached the end! Well, mostly. I have some random outtakes and drabbles that I’m sure will crop up, but my (eventual) multi-chapter will feature Geralt and Zahra as they navigate some... interesting magical developments. 

But, for now, I call this the end of The Wench and The Witcher. Thank you guys so much for your kind words, reblogs, likes - this is honestly the most I’ve written in years and knowing that y’all have enjoyed it warms the cockles of my heart. Title and lyrics under the cut from Hozier’s “Would That I” which I think might be my favorite Hozier song full-stop, hands down. 

@coconutxraikage - @onyour-right - @ly–canthrope - @kianya-loves - @c-s-stars - @gczanetti1 - @alwaysnatz - @agniavateira - @owillofthewisps​ - @hina-chans-stuff - @yespolkadotkitty​ - @wastingmypotential​ - @inber​

With each love I cut loose, I was never the same Watching still-living roots be consumed by the flame I was fixed on your hand of gold Layin' waste to my lovin' long ago

“Contracts from the butcher and the miller,” Lucja rattles off. “And Jaskier returned your message – says he’s very much looking forward to performing for the solstice festival.”

 She gives a hum as she thumbs through the stack of papers on the desk. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you, as well,” she teases.

 Lucja’s pretty round face goes pink, making her employer grin. The older woman pauses when she finds an unfamiliar piece of folded parchment among the stack of invoices. Slim brown fingers unfold the sharply folded letter and suddenly her heart is in her throat. “Lucja… where did this come from?”

 “Oh… it, ah, came with Jaskier’s reply. Do you want me to get rid of it?”

 Though half-tempted to let Lucja burn the letter, she bites her lip and shakes her head. “No,” she murmurs. “Thank you, Lu’ – that will be all.”

 Her young barmaid flashes a sympathetic smile and closes the door behind her. The neatly looped scrawl of the letter makes something around her heart ache. She’d always been surprised by how tidy the Witcher’s handwriting was:

 I don’t

 This isn’t what

 I’m not – fucking shit fuck 

 The first time I saw you, it was like walking into the light of the sun after half a lifetime in the cold. And it was so fucking cold that night.

 You were like summer.

 It’s cold again now, without you. I don’t know what I’m doing

 Two weeks later:

I wanted want wanted to bring you to see Kaer Mohren. I know you said you like the ocean more than the mountains, but I think this place could change your mind. You would get on with Eskel like a house on fire. He’s more of a southerner, like you.

 I told him about the time you tried to teach me to cook and he nearly pissed himself laughing.

 Lambert’s a shit. Vesemir already likes you.

 You’d like it here. The kitchen is nearly as big as the whole front room of the tavern. Library’s bigger.

 Garden’s a fucking nightmare, though.

 We could go to the ocean, too. Anywhere you want.

 The missives don’t come with any real regularity. A few at a time, a week-long gap, but they never stop. She thinks about writing back, at first, but deciphering where the Witcher is would likely be impossible and… gods, she’s still so damned angry. The White Wolf receives no reply.

Regardless, the letters keep coming.

 The thing is, I don’t know what else there is besides The Path - this life of slaying monsters and getting paid in coin. I was told that was all I needed and I believed it for a very long time. There was nothing to challenge that, not until I met you.

 You were are so fucking beautiful. And warm, and bright, and vulgar, and kind, and a pain in my ass and I should have told you how much you meant to me, but I couldn’t parse it out until just now, and I am an idiot. And a coward. I thought that telling myself you were an amusement would be enough, that I would be content with warming your bed, but I can’t do that anymore. I can’t keep lying about how much I need you.

 I need you, Zee. It feels like I’m missing my fucking sword arm.

 The words on the page blur together. She brushes them with her fingertips, almost smiling even as the tears catch in her lashes:

 I miss the way you laugh at Jaskier’s dirty songs.

 I miss the way you used my legs to keep your feet warm at night.

 I miss that fucking rabbit stew.

 I miss the way you’d look at me when I walked in the door.

 I miss the sounds you make when I’m inside of you. The way you taste.

 I miss your eyes. And your smile.

 Your voice. Your terrible fucking singing.

 You are my home. You’re my harbor and my safe haven.

 I love you. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.

   ---

Midaëte approaches. With it, a week’s worth of festivities, and food and drink, leading up to the day of the solstice. It means early mornings in the kitchen and late nights in the tavern. The evenings are balmy, windows and doors thrown open to allow the scent of summer air and night-blooming flowers to drift through.

 For a time, she is so busy that she forgets to be heartsore. Geralt’s letters – page after yellowing page – sit tied with a gold ribbon in her desk drawer. Confessions and apologies, promises and rambling stories that she keeps picking up to read again and again. It’s a veritable book, more than he’d ever seen fit to say in person and she’s not sure whether to be infuriated or hopeful, but there’s barely time. Thank the gods.

  Business booms, between trades-folk coming in for the market day, then musicians, then families. She drinks a little, dances when there is time; she lets Lucja weave tiny yellow purple flowers into her hair for Midaëte Eve and dresses in white and yellow to enjoy the evening. Or try to, at least. The main room is full almost to bursting, patrons laughing, carousing, and eventually spilling out into the courtyard to dance in the falling dusk.

 Zahra watches from the doorway. A few try to tempt her into the circle for a reel and they receive a grateful smile with her refusal. Jaskier, however, will not be deterred.

 “You, dear lady,” he croons. “Look too lovely to be hiding in the shadows.”

 “Jas…”

 “One dance. Just one – you might even have fun by mistake.”

 She rolls her eyes, but the bard just grins and lifts her hand for a kiss. He leads her, hand-in-hand out to the courtyard; Jaskier gives a nod to his fellow players and they begin with a sharp beat that eases into a lovely, familiar melody.

 “You know this one, ducky?” Jaskier queries with a smile. She nods and he takes the lead.

 It’s a simple step, to start with. A sweet back and forth to match the sweet, flowing verse of the song. The touch of Jaskier’s hand on her low back offers guidance, keeps her moving in gentle circles around him until the real movement begins. Swinging, agile steps carry Zahra and her partner around in wide loops. The mingle with other dancers, threading hands to spin back together and then apart.

 Jaskier grips her waist across the front, and she follows suit. The dizzying spin turns the world into a wash of summer colors for a moment and she can’t help but laugh. It feels good to be light again.

 The bard turns her under his arm and into the hands of the next man. There’s a moment of hesitation, a moment where she considers bowing out and going back to her corner, but the tabor still thrums in her blood and it’s such a beautiful night.

 Still smiling, she curtsies, and is lead back through the steps again. Her partner leads easily, light of foot and loose of tongue – from her ale, more like than not – but he’s kind, and sweet, and so funny that she’s nearly in tears when she’s suddenly spun away to her next partner. She catches the fabric of her skirts to add a flourish to the spin; the soft yellow cotton dances with her.

 When spins to a stop, she sees black, at first. Matte black buttons, black tunic shirt – worn, but cleaner than it usually is. The silver wolf’s head medallion sparks in the torchlight.

 Zahra looks up into the face of Geralt of Rivia and the music goes dull behind the roar of blood in her ears. It feels a bit like standing on a ledge cliff and looking down to gauge the fall. She feels dizzy, and terrified, and wonderfully breathless. Heart in her mouth, she spies Jaskier out of the corner of her eye.

 The bard grins. Bastard.

 “Zahra…”

 The Witcher’s voice rumbles through her like soft summer thunder. Strong fingers grip hers, and he lifts her knuckles to his lips. His honey-gold eyes are more earnest and honest than she’s ever seen them – he asks the question without moving his lips. Zahra nods.

 Geralt leads her in the dance and everything falls away.

  She hears the music, feels it sing through her, but her focus remains on the white-haired mutant at her side. His hand spans her back, warm through her dress and stays; the lightest pressure of his fingertips, or palm, guides her to turn, or step, or pivot in time with him. It shouldn’t be surprising to her, how well he moves – she’s seen him fight, and his grace with a sword, and how would dancing be any different?  He doesn’t look away from her once and the heat of his gaze flushes over her. The Witcher very nearly smiles.

 Geralt turns her under his arm, guides her through the last few measures of the song. He steps away, takes his warmth with him, and bows. Zahra curtsies in return.

 The crowd, the rest of the world, rushes back over them. The townsfolk whistle, and stomp, for a moment determined to swarm in and start up another country dance, and Geralt grips her hand tight for a moment. She sees him hesitate before he asks, simply, “Can we talk?”

 Most of the party has spilled into the streets, leaving the tavern itself practically empty. Lucja still keeps to her spot behind the bar, green eyes going wide when she spies Zahra and her guest in tow. The girl’s pretty face splits into a knowing smile that makes Zahra’s face go hot.

 It’s mostly dark in her study. The small hearth fire has gone to smoldering embers, and it gives her the opportunity to light a few candles and collect her utterly scattered thoughts. She flicks out the last taper and finally looks up at Geralt. He stands just inside the closed door, just as he used to. It’s familiar – it feels like it’s been years, or decades, or maybe just a few hours. His honey-colored gaze still holds a heat that sings over her skin. She drops her eyes to the desk.

 The last letter sits there, creased and folded from how many times she’s read it. Zahra picks at the parchment. Keeping her focus on Geralt’s neat lettering seems easier than looking at the Witcher himself. “Did Jaskier put you up to this?” she teases half-heartedly.

 Geralt exhales on a chuckle. “Something like. Threatened to garrote me with a lute string.”

 She smiles, in spite of herself. When she lifts her head and meets his eyes, it takes a moment to catch her breath. For a few heartbeats, she simply stares. Gods, he is still so beautiful. She swallows hard and feels her throat go dry.

 “Did you mean what you wrote?” she asks.

 “You know I did, Zee.”

Gold eyes go guarded again. He doesn’t go totally cold, but she can see the way he builds up his walls to prepare for the worst. He steps forward. Second-guesses – stops.

 “What I do – what I am – I can’t change it,” he rumbles. “I’m still a Witcher, Zahra. A mutant. I can’t… I can’t give you normal, sweetheart – ”

 “Gods, Geralt - fuck normal.”

 ---

 “Fuck normal.”

 She says it with such passionate certainty that it startles a laugh out of him. The soft yellow of her skirt floats like woven sunlight around her legs. Like the sun, it almost hurts to look at her, but fuck all, that’s all he wants to do. He watches her face, watches her chew her lip; feels his slow pulse try to speed up when she steps closer. His fingers itch to curl around her waist.

 “I never asked for normal, Geralt,” she whispers. The way her voice cracks pulls tight around his heart. “I don’t want normal. I want you. That’s it. Can… can you give me that, or no?”

 The Witcher’s footfalls carry him to her. He studies her face; re-acquaints himself with the curve of her cheek and the dimple that presses there. She all but melts into his touch when his thumb brushes her cheek. He pulls her into the circle of his arms. She’s still soft, and warm; he closes his eyes, feels his muscles go lax with relief when she holds fast, locking her arms around his back. Geralt presses his face against the smooth curve of her shoulder.

 It feels like stepping into the light of the sun after ages in cold and rain. “I love you, Zahra,” he breathes.

 Her soft, tearful laugh settles warm into his heart. “I love you, Geralt.”

 He gives a pleased murmur, lets the tip of his nose trail lazy circles over her shoulder. When he inhales, the warm, soft smell of her skin eases back into his lungs. From shoulder to neck, the Witcher draws in slow breaths and ghosts his lips over the exposed skin he finds until Zahra shivers. “What are you doing, Witcher?” she whispers, breathless.

 “Hmm… taking your scent back,” he mumbles. “I missed this smell.”

 His lips ease along the shell of her ear. She still gasps when he nips at the crux of her jaw. “I missed you, love,” he growls.

 Geralt takes his time. He savors the smell and the taste of her skin, humming lowly when Zahra’s hands grip at his back. The sweetness of her begins to bloom with heat, with the richness of desire – want – and when he sets his teeth gently against her pulse point, she moans delicately.  Insistent fingers tangle in his hair; she whispers his name and pulls him to her lips. She kisses him like a woman starved and it feels like his heart might thunder its way free of his chest. He lifts her onto the edge of the desk and comes to stand between her parted thighs, gathering the soft yellow cotton of her skirts up. Her fingers yank at the buttons on his trousers.

  It’s a quick, desperate of coupling. Mingled breath and bitten off sighs – greedy kisses with fingers gripped in the front of his shirt. She flutters hotly around his cock with a whimper and a curse. He groans against her mouth when he comes. Zahra drinks down the noise with a grin on her lips.

 Geralt stays put for more than a year. It’s good.

 The Path still calls, and he still follows, but she finds she’s able to let go of the fear. It’s no longer a question of ‘if’ but ‘when’ in terms of Geralt’s return. And if he knows it’s going to be a long journey, or if the mood simply strikes him, he writes -

 I miss you.

 I love you.

 Sometimes no more than a line, sometimes full paragraphs – even pages –  but he always tells her when he plans to return. When he’ll be home.

 It’s nearly spring next time he rides back in, market day in full swing as he passes through the township gate with Roach at his side. Vendors call their wares, families and merchants wander the stalls as he peers out from the shadow of his cloak. He finds the trail of Zahra’s scent past the cloying smell of cut flowers and rounds to corner to find her chatting with the butcher’s daughter.

 The younger woman catches his gaze. Geralt watches the girl grin and give his woman – his woman – a nudge, nodding in his direction. Zahra is already smiling when she turns, and the Witcher has the pleasure of watching her face flash from surprise to joy in the space of a heartbeat. She moves to him, a walk that becomes a jog, and then a final sprint that launches her into his arms. He curls his free arm tight around her waist. Immediately, he has his face pressed to her hair. Zahra’s laughter rings softly in his ears when she draws back, just enough to look up into his face.

 At her throat, the polished wolf’s tooth is bright against her brown skin. “Welcome home, my love,” she murmurs.

 The greeting settles warm over him like the sunlight. Geralt pulls her close again, kissing her in full view of half the town. She shivers sweetly in his arms and pulls her fingers through his hair. He hears a wolf-whistle, and a smattering of applause that makes Zahra giggle against his mouth.

 “People are staring,” she teases softly.

 He smirks. “Let them,” he tells her before kissing her once more. She tastes of clover honey.

 She smells of sunshine.

 She feels like home.

[buckyodinson]

Undisclosed Desires (Javier Peña x fem!Reader)

Request from anon: I loved reading "The First" w/ Jack so much, and I was wondering if you would consider writing something like that but for Javier? Like it's her first time and she's obviously nervous/shy and Javi is (obvs) not and maybe some softness?❤️🥺 Thank you and ily!

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: I wanna pre-empt this by saying I have not watched Narcos, so know next to nothing about Javi other than what I’ve read in other people’s fics, so I hope I did him justice! 🤞🏻 and again, I’m not the best at smut so I hope that’s okay too!

It had been a long day at the embassy. You were pacing around your desk as far as the phone cable would allow, sighing deeply as you spoke with one of your superiors back in the States. Yet another member of the Medellín cartel had escaped today and he was on everybody’s ass about it, as usual. You’d spent the best part of the day out pursuing this cartel member, but at the last minute, he managed to slip away from you and Murphy. After Murphy had his grilling over the phone and was allowed to go home, it was your turn having to explain yourself on the phone to your asshole of a boss.

“Listen, sir, I understand you’re pissed. We all are too, it’s just th-“ you stopped abruptly and threw the handset down, missing the base entirely, sighing as you watched the handset bounce and hang limply off the side of your desk. Javier watched from his desk, raising an eyebrow at the sudden outburst.

You all but melt into your chair, running your hands over your face and groaning into your palms. You take a few deep breaths before moving your hands to your lap and opening your eyes. When you do, you’re met with Javier bending down to pick your phone up and put it in its receiver. He perches on the edge of your desk, giving you an uncharacteristically soft smile, “You need a break.”

“That’s the last thing I need, Peña. Not with Bellamy breathing down my neck.” You sink further into your chair and bring your feet up to rest on your desk.

“All the more reason to take a break.” He tentatively brings a hand to rest on one of your ankles, rubbing a thumb along it gently, “You’ll burn out, and make mistakes, and piss Bellamy off more.” You look down at your feet, and blush when you see the gentle swipe of his thumb over your ankle.

“I don’t know how you do it, Peña. You never let it get to you.” You reluctantly remove your feet from your desk, immediately missing the warmth of his hand, and grab your blazer from the back of your chair. You slowly stand and put it on.

“Trust me, dulzura, it gets to me. I just have my ways of letting the stress out. I’d recommend it.” He gives you a wink and you roll your eyes. He chuckles as he saunters back to his own desk.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be taking your advice there.” You smirked, but your embarrassment was evident with the heat rising in your cheeks.

You’d be lying if you said you had no feelings towards your colleague. The infamous Javier Peña. Known to frequent several brothels across the city - sometimes for information, sometimes just for pleasure. You wished that these tendencies put you off the man, but nothing allowed you to shake those feelings. When you walked past his apartment to reach your own, and you heard the moans from inside, you would feel a pang of jealousy, wishing it were you in there.

You felt like a schoolgirl, and you felt ridiculous for feeling the way you did about him. He clearly didn’t feel the same about you, and even if he did... well, once he found out you were a virgin, you’re sure he’d run back to Freckles, or any of the other girls he visits. Back to someone he knows will give him a good time.

“I’m telling you, there’s no better way to end a stressful day.” He continued as he put on his own blazer, breaking you out of your daze.

“I’m more of an alcohol and wallow-in-self-pity kinda girl myself.”

“No wonder you’re so pent up at work. I’m sure men practically throw themselves at your feet at bars. Take one home and I promise the stress will just drip out of you.” He smirked and you didn’t miss the tone of his voice shift in that last sentence, blushing at the double meaning.

“I’m not that kinda girl, Javi.” You sighed as you rummaged around your desk looking for your car keys.

“Could always use me instead of some random guy from a bar?...” he smirked and looked up at you expecting a witty reply, but saw you rooting through one of your desk drawers. “Havin’ trouble over there?”

“Can’t find my goddamn keys. Jesus, can nothing go right today?!” You groaned and kicked your chair away from your desk.

Immediately Javi was in front of you, hands coming to rest on your forearms, “Just calm down, muñeca. This is what I’m talking about - you’re overworked. I’ll drive you home, it’s not problem.”

“Thank you, Javi.” You gave him a small smile and he led you out of the embassy.

You climbed into his Jeep and on the drive to your apartment complex, you wondered how many other women had sat in this seat before you, being driven to Javi’s place and shown a good time.

“Stop it.” Javi’s voice cut through the silence.

“I wasn’t doing anything?” You bit back.

“You were thinking too hard. Could practically hear the gears grinding. Just forget about today. What’s done is done. You can’t do anything more about it right now, so relax.” He kept his eye on the road as he spoke.

“I’ve already forgotten about that asshole, Javi. That’s not what I’m thinking about.” You stared out the window, blushing profusely.

“Thinking about my offer from earlier?” You can hear the smirk and you turn to face him.

“What offer?”

“Earlier. I said you could take me home instead of some random guy. Then we’re both getting rid of the stress.” He raised his eyebrow as he turned briefly to look at you and wink before looking back at the road ahead.

“Real funny, Peña.” You deadpan and you subtly squeeze your thighs together at the thought. Javier doesn’t miss this action and he smirks, seeing the affect he has on you.

“I’m not joking, princesa.” He says softly as he parks his jeep outside your apartment complex.

You quickly take off your belt and get out of the car, attempting to make a quick getaway, but Javi grabs your arm gently and makes you face him, “Y/N, look at me. Listen, I’m sorry if that was too far, but I genuinely mean it. And not in the way you probably think. This job... seeing you out there kicking ass everyday and almost getting shot or killed... it’s made me realise that I love you.” His chocolate eyes bore into yours and you could tell he was telling the truth, and it made your heart burst.

A smile made its way across your face, “I feel the same, Javi.” His eyes lit up at your admission, and he leaned slowly down to capture your lips. You happily melted into the kiss, moaning as he pressed himself against you. You reached a hand into his hair and he groaned as your nails brushed against his scalp. As you leaned backwards and felt Javi’s Jeep behind you, you were suddenly very aware that you were out in the middle of the street and you pulled away. His lips chased yours for a second before he pulled back to look at you, breathing heavily.

“Let’s go inside.” You spoke quietly and pulled him along with you, smiling at the grin that spread across his face.

You climbed the stairs to your floor of the complex, and took him past his apartment until you reached your own. You fished your keys out of your bag and opened the door, motioning for him to go inside, shutting the door behind the pair of you.

He stood in the small hallway, a little awkwardly and you moved past him towards your kitchen. You grabbed two glasses and poured a glass of whiskey for each of you. Javier graciously accepted and downed his almost immediately, watching you sip at your own. He had a little look around your apartment, admiring the little decorations you had strewn about, before settling down on your sofa and patting the space next to him. You finished your drink and joined him on the sofa, and his lips immediately found yours again. You wrap your arms around his neck, and he pulls you into his lap, gripping your thighs tightly. He moves one hand to your back and pushes you flush against him, deepening the kiss. Your hands find their way into his hair again, and you squeal when suddenly he’s picking you up and carrying you to your bedroom.

He places you down on your bed so softly before lifting his shirt over his head and crawling back over you. Your hands roam the expanse of his back as he litters wet open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. He continues lower and lower until his mouth reaches the waistband of your trousers, and he begins to undo the button when you suddenly freeze, “Javi, wait.” You breathe heavily.

“What is it, mi amor?” You look down and see his blown pupils staring back at you, worry painting his features.

“I just...” you take a deep breath and cover your eyes with your hands, embarrassment settling in.

You feel him move back up the bed, and when he speaks, you hear that he’s above you, “Is everything okay?” his soft voice calms you down, and he peels your hands away from your face and smiles down at you.

“I’ve just... I’ve never done... this before. We were moving so fast, and I-uh-I panicked. I’m sorry.” You slowly admitted, worried about his reaction, but the warm smile remained on his face.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I’m sorry I rushed into this. You’ve gotta be ready. I can wait for whenever that may be, it’s okay.” He lowered himself to lay beside you, and you rolled on your side to face him properly.

“Thank you, Javi. I’m sorry.” You ducked your head down and he leaned forward and kissed your forehead.

“You don’t have to apologise.” He whispered into your hair.

“Will you stay the night?” You asked shyly against his chest.

“Of course.” You looked up and he kissed you softly.

You stood up and went to the bathroom to change, coming back to your bedroom in a t-shirt and sleep shorts, finding Javier smoking a cigarette by the window in just his boxers. You walked behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your forehead between his shoulder blades, kissing the skin there. He smiled as he used his free hand to wrap around yours, sighing contentedly.

You gave his skin one last kiss before slowly removing your arms from his waist and walking back to bed. Javi put his cigarette out before following you, climbing in behind you and pulling your back to his chest.

“Thank you for staying, Javi.” You sighed as he kissed your jaw.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” He pulled you even closer and pressed his nose into your hair, tracing small circles into the skin of your stomach under your shirt. The gentle touch lulled you to sleep, and he followed soon after.

With the stress of the job, you rarely ever got a full night’s sleep, but that night, both you and Javi had the best sleep you’d had in months, if not years. When you awoke, Javi was on his back, snoring lightly, and you were tucked into his side. His arm was wrapped securely round your waist, and you relished in the feeling, shuffling even closer to him and resting your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat. You stayed there for what felt like hours, tracing little shapes into the skin of his hips that were just peeking out of his boxers. After a few minutes of this, his soft snores stopped, and you felt him stir.

He gave your waist a little squeeze and when you looked up at him, you swear you fell in love all over again. His hair was messy, and a few strands were stuck to his forehead, and the lopsided grin he gave you with his little squinted eyes was enough to make your heart stop.

“Morning, dormilón.” You smirked at him, and he chuckled at your Spanish.

“Morning, angel.” He ran his fingers through your hair, and that feeling combined with his rough morning voice pulled a small moan from the back of your throat. You immediately blushed and tried to bury your face in his chest, but he rolled you over and looked down at you, smiling, “Don’t be embarrassed, dulzura. You sound beautiful.”

This Javier was so different to the usual suave, rough man you usually saw at the embassy (not that you didn’t find that version of Javi incredibly attractive). This sweet side to him made your heart flutter in your chest, and made your thighs clench. You reached your hands up to tangle them in his hair and pull his lips down to your own. He happily obliged, and your teeth clashed from the force of the kiss, which made you giggle lightly into the kiss.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, and he pulled back to look down at you, “Are you sure you’re ready, mi amor?” He raised an eyebrow but you saw genuine concern in his eyes.

“Yes, Javi. I want this. Want you.” You panther and he leaned back down to adorn your neck with kisses and little bites. His hands moved softly down your sides before lifting your shirt up slowly, fingertips ghosting your skin. A groan escaped his lips once he lifted the shirt over your head, and he took in the sight of your naked chest. You were a little embarrassed, but seeing the look on his face made you feel like the most beautiful woman alive.

“So beautiful...” you blush even further and he dips down to kiss you again, one hand trailing up your stomach to palm at one of your breasts and rolling your nipple between his fingers, earning a moan from you. He moves onto the other breast while his kisses down your jaw, leaving a bruise on your neck in his journey down to your breasts.

You’re panting by the time he reaches your chest, where he leaves little nips and bites littered across your skin, sighing when he kisses further down your stomach. He reaches your shorts and looks up at you to confirm you’re still okay. You nod quickly, not trusting your voice, and he slowly pulls your shorts and your underwear down your legs, kissing the skin that is revealed.

Once you’re bare before him, he slowly parts your legs and settles in between them, adorning your inner thighs with kisses, getting closer and closer to where you want him most. The slight scratch of his mustache against your thighs sends a shiver up your body, and you feel him smirk against your skin. One of his hands is interlocked with one of your own, while the other is being slowly dragged down your body from your breasts to your core. His hand and mouth both reach your heat at the same time. Javi uses his fingers to spread your folds before licking a stripe through them, and your free hand grips the sheets until your knuckles turn white. He quickly latches into your clit, methodically adding pressure before removing it and just ghosting it with his tongue, moving closer to your entrance before doubling back and repeating, the mustache doing wonders as it brushes against your skin too.

Javi hums his approval deep in his throat, and the vibrations against you only fuel the pleasure further. He moves his fingers and lightly traces your entrance with them, before slowly pushing one in. You moan lewdly and he groans in satisfaction.

“So tight... so perfect for me.” He whispers against your clit as he pumps his finger in you, adding another once your clawing at his hair.

“Please, Javi- oh God!” You sigh when he removes his fingers, watching as he sucks them into his mouth and groans.

“I want you, Javi.” You reach out for him and he crawls until he’s level with you.

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Yes, Javi. Please.” You practically beg and he captures your lips once more as he pulls his boxers off. He quickly jumps up and grabs his wallet, where he fishes out a condom and rolls it on before jumping back into bed and kissing you again. He lines himself up and slowly pushes in, going slowly so you can get used to it, or ask him to stop if needs be. It’s painful at first and a few tears do escape your eyes, which are pressed tightly closed. He wipes the tears away and kisses along your cheeks until he bottoms out.

You’re breathing heavily and digging your nails into his back, eyes still screwed shut, and he stills, waiting for you. He pressed chaste kisses along your jawline until he feels you relax under him and he looks up to see your eyes open, “Please move, Javi. I’m okay.”

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckles lowly at the blush that paints your face and chest. The pain was soon overtaken by pleasure as Javi softly rocked into you, only picking up the speed when you wrapped your legs around his waist and pressed him deeper into you.

“Eres mi todo...” he whispers against your neck before sucking a mark into your collarbone.

“God, I love you, Javi.” You’re shocking yourself by saying these things while he’s on top of you like this, but you just can’t help it. The way he’s pushing into you feels good enough, but when he reaches a hand down to rub your clit, it’s all over. Your vision goes black for a split second, your entire body tenses up, and you cling onto Javi like your life depends on it, while he carries on riding you through your high and he soon follows you to complete bliss. As you both come down from your highs, he lazily kisses up your neck until he reaches your lips, and captures them in a passionate kiss.

He pulls out slowly, quickly disposing of the condom in your bathroom and grabbing a wet cloth, coming back to clean you up, stroking your hair as you lay there panting. He puts the cloth back on the bathroom, and when he re-emerges, you’re still lying there, and he stops and just stares at you. He thinks you look ethereal, and he can’t quite believe what just happened.

Since you joined him and Steve at the embassy, he’d fallen for you. It was a very foreign feeling to him, and he tried to fuck his feelings away with his usual girls, but he would always be thinking of you, and would smoke a cigarette and leave immediately afterwards. He lit a cigarette and moved over to your window, thinking about how lucky he was, “You okay over there, sweetheart?” He smirks at you still laying in bed where he left you.

“Yeah, I’m great. I just don’t trust my legs right now.” You giggle, still in a bit of a daze.

Javi sniggers and puts his cigarette out, joining you in bed once more, pulling you flush against him, “So, how was that for a first time?”

“It was perfect, Javi. You were perfect.” You smiled back at him and kissed his chin.

You had a lazy morning since neither of you had to be in the office until midday. You danced around your living room to some old records, and Javi made you breakfast. Javi went back to his apartment to get ready and you did the same, meeting him out by his jeep so he could drive you both to work. He kept a hand on your thigh the entire drive there.

When you arrived at the office, Steve was already at his desk, hunched over some paperwork, phone held between his ear and shoulder. He covered it with his hand while he spoke to you, “Bellamy has called twice this morning already, still wants to chat about yesterday.” Steve waited for the inevitable swearing from you but you simply sighed and sat down at your desk, removing your jacket and getting comfy.

“What’s got you in such a good mood this morning?”

“I bet she finally gave into all the stress and took my advice and picked some guy up at a bar and let him give her a good time.” Javi piped up as he leaned back in his chair.

Murphy raised an eyebrow at you and you rolled your eyes at Peña while smirking, “A lady never tells.”

Murphy chuckles and shakes his head as he turns back to his desk and Javi shoots you a wink, to which you blush profusely.

—————

(These are 100% google translated, so I apologise if anything is wrong!!)

Dulzura - sweetness/sweetheart

muñeca - doll

princesa - princess

mi amor - my love

dormilón - sleepyhead

Eres mi todo - you are my everything

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Good Business: Part 16

Fandom: Marvel (Mob AU)

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a ruthless mobster. He’s also referred to as Big Buck due to his towering strong frame as well as his round stomach. You’re the owner of a small diner, a place that Big Buck decides to visit. Based off this drabble.

A/N: uuuummmmm....do people still care about this story?

warning: violence

You’re sitting in the back of the cop car, leg bouncing while you wait for Steve to respond. 

You: SOS

You let out a breath of relief when Steve texts back:

Steve: what’s going on?

You: with the cops, not getting a good vibe. supposedly going to the station, but i don’t think we are.

Steve: what’s your location?

You immediately send him your location and you’re hoping to whatever almighty above that you’re not dying today.

__________________

Bucky’s phone is buzzing on his desk and he’s looking over some papers when he mindlessly answers it, “Hello?”

“We have a situation,” he hears Steve say in a very serious tone. 

Bucky immediately sits up straight on high alert, “Rumlow?”

“Maybe? Y/N texted me and told me she was being brought in by some officers, but she has a bad feeling. What do you want me to do?”

Bucky clenches his jaw and runs a hand over his beard, “Do you know where she is?”

“She sent me her location.”

“Good. Find her. Get her and bring her to one of the houses upstate. I’m gonna pack some stuff and head back,” he immediately grabs the papers he was looking over and stuffing them into files. He then took the files and tossed them into his desk drawer. 

“Buck, is this really a good idea?”

He pauses, thinking over his options, “At this point, I think I’m done playing nice with Rumlow, Steve. He’s messed with me, my business, my family, everyone I’ve ever cared about for too long. It’s time to show him who the real boss is.”

_______________

You’re not really surprised when you’re getting further and further away from the busy streets and population. Your palms are starting to get really sweaty and your heart is pounding in your ears. 

“We’re...not going to the station are we?” you manage to ask, but met with silence. 

Like a typical mob movie, you approach what looks like an abandoned building. When the car stops and the door flies open, you fight as much as you can to get away from these men, the uncertainty of your fate weighing down on you.

“What the fuck is going on?! Who are you guys?!”

“It’s in your best interest you stop fighting, sweetheart.” you look up to see a man in what looks like a knock off Dior suit. He’s tall, his hair slicked back and looks like bad news. 

“Who the fuck are you?” you spit out and the man smirks.

“Barnes never mentioned me, huh?” the man walks closer to you, one hand in his pocket, the other twirling a switchblade, “I’m Brock Rumlow, sweetheart, and I just wanna talk.”

“I don’t know where Bucky is! He broke up with me and I haven’t had contact with him since! So whatever macho bullshit is going on between the two of you has nothing to do with me!”

Rumlow chuckles with a shake of his head, “Oh, honey, as soon as you got involved with Barnes, it had everything to do with you. And since him and his family decided to run for the hills, you’re my next best bargaining chip.”

Using the handcuffs the officers carry, they handcuff your wrists behind your back and push you to follow Rumlow into the warehouse. 

The place was just as you expected. Dimly lit, a gross musty smell lingering in the air, and, of course, a single chair waiting in the middle.

“Jeez, dude, how many mob movies and shows have you watched? Really trying to be all big and tough and soprano-esque aren’t ya?” that comment earned you a slap to the face and you chuckle, looking up at the supposed cop that was to protect and serve citizens like you.

“My grandma hits better than you, my dude.”

SMACK!

“Damn, I can see why Barnes like you, sweetheart,” Rumlow states as he sharpens his switchblade, “You’ve got a fire to you, huh?”

“I’m also amazing with my hands. I can show you if you uncuff me,” you say with a sweet smile despite your cheek starting to swell from the blows you’ve taken. The cops snort and start to tie you to the chair with some rope. 

“So, sweetheart,” Brock runs his blade along your cheek and you wince when you feel the ridges slightly scrape along your skin, “let’s have a little fun, shall we?”

You have a mischievous look in your eyes when you smile and say, “Yes, let’s.” with that, you kick one of the cops that was tying your legs to the chair. The action causing Rumlow to stumble back and fall on his ass.

You took the opportunity to stomp onto his hand that reached for his blade, breaking the bones. He cried out in pain and the two dirty cops raced to you. Your hands were still cuffed behind your back, but that didn’t stop you from fighting. 

After Bucky had left you, you decided to take up self-defense classes, afraid something like this would happen. Looks like you were right. 

You give a roundhouse kick to one cop, knocking him out in an instant. The other cop grabbed for his gun, pulling it out, but only to have it kicked out of his hand. You then kick him in the gut making him fall back. That’s when you gave a blow to his face, hearing a crack. He didn’t move after this. 

You looked at Rumlow who clutched his hand in pain, anger in your eyes, “You messed with the wrong girl.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, sweet cheeks.” your ears perk at the familiar voice, your heart pounding. 

You turn to see Bucky, Steve, and the rest of the gang filing into the warehouse armed and dangerous. 

Rumlow chuckled, standing up, “You’re not gonna kill us, Barnes. It’s not fair, you guys against us three? That’s bad form.”

Bucky scoffed, “Bad form? You wanna talk bad form, Rumlow? Bad form is coming onto my territory and shooting my businesses up. Bad form is threatening to kill my family. Bad form is kidnapping the woman I love in order to get to me. I’m done with your shit, Rumlow. There’s only one king of Brooklyn and that’s me.”

With a single shot ringing through the warehouse, Brock Rumlow fell dead with a bullet right between his eyes.

Handing his gun off to Steve, Bucky rushed over to you, cupping your face and examining the damage that’s been done, “Oh, sweet cheeks,” he said somberly.

You shook his head, “It’s not that bad. I mean, check out the other guys,” you nodded to the unconcious dirty cops on the ground. 

“Yeah, about that, what the fuck?? Since when did you learn how to do that shit?”

You shrugged, “I had to be prepared. I’m not some damsel in distress, Barnes.”

Bucky snorted and kissed your head, “No you’re not, sweetheart.”

Steve approached you, jingling the keys to the handcuffs. He unlocked them and you rubbed your wrists, “Don’t know why you called me, Y/N. Looks like you handled yourself just fine.”

“You can never be too sure, Steve.”

He gave you a hug and kiss on the cheek, “Glad to see you’re okay.” then he looks at Bucky, “Now what?”

Bucky scratches at his beard and looks at the three bodies around him, “Get rid of the bodies and any evidence we were here. I’m gonna take Y/N to the hospital-”

“No,” you say with a shake of your head.

He gives you a stern, “Baby, you-”

“I’m fine, Bucky. They’ll heal,” you wrap your arms around his thick bicep, “I just wanna go home with you.”

He sees the desperation in your eyes and he agrees. He sees that you missed him and he missed you too. So how could he deny the chance to be with you again?

“Alright, sweet cheeks. I’ll take you home.” he removes his arm from your embrace, instead protectively wrapping it around your shoulders, “You’re gonna be okay now, baby.” he presses a soft kiss to your head and you both walk back to his car.

Good Business Taglist (CLOSED): @cametobuyplums @sergeantrosabellaswan @asadmarveltrashbag​ @youcanhaveyourspacecowboy​ @reniescarlett​ @j-the-smol-otter @buckysknifecollection @lowkeysebby @rinthehufflepuff @134340-cm @snoot-snoot-toot @seabassali1328 @bluebellhairpin @emzy106 @viarogers @feelmyroarrrr @vxidnik @jasura @jade-cheshire3303 @yknott81 @baliebay19 @jessieray98 @fandommemporiumm @iluvsumbucky @bucksandroses @lecoindenox @ylva-stark @booktease21 @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @cheyenne222222 @momobaby227