#ch: secret agent man

[ask-spectrum-coding]

Alright gang, what do your parents think you do for work and how hard of lie is it to maintain

RUBY: My parents are easy to trick; my friends are the clever ones. There's only so many time you can break out the 'tragic grandma death, gotta take a week off school to recover' excuse before they start to get really nosy. But I manage.

BLACKER: Sad to say, I don't have much of a social life outside work. I don't exactly mind, though, definitely helps with the 'TOP SECRET, DO NOT REVEAL' clause of my employment contract.

FROGHORN: Hmph.

[tiredassmage]

I cannot word how much I love this. This is when these two first started to get along, when this landed so well, lmao. It’s a hilariously short jump from Tyr genuinely wanting to shoot him and threatening to flush him out the airlock for messing with him to just absolutely messing around and, also, I think... we’ve probably all realized that Tyr’s secret Achilles’ heel is a mentor figure and while he doesn’t always like Lokin’s advice (or Lokin in general, for that matter), he does end up keeping most of it in mind.

But, tldr, once he’s on the ship, Tyr realizes maybe he isn’t completely atrocious company and they can leave Taris mostly behind them. Tyr still never apologizes for punching him and Lokin never tries to get him to.

Kaliyo and him are always knife catting each other, but him and Lokin’s is more they are both sipping tea and reading the news casually discussing different ways to poison a target and you can’t tell how serious they’re being about experimenting on each other. Similar, yet distinct flavors, lmao.

[gurugirl]

Can We Start Over? | Ch. 1 The Winter Ball

Series Summary: From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? rich!harry x plus size!reader | enemies to lovers

A/N: This is a 5 part series commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you hon!).

Chapter 1. Summary: You meet Harry at your boss's retirement party and your night ends with a bang.

Word Count: 10k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, alcohol consumption, angst

Can We Start Over? masterlist

The winter ball was something Mr. Spector threw every year for his clients, colleagues, and other wealthy people he wanted to be seen with. This one was like the past three you’d attended, but unlike the others, this would be the last. Your boss, Mr. Spector was retiring, and he was moving to Italy. You were happy for him. Truly. He’d been good to you the past three and half years you spent working for him. You took on the duty of a personal assistant and friend. The friend part came naturally, of course. It wasn’t part of your job description but you honestly really liked Mr. Spector. He wasn’t nice to most people. But to you, he was kind of like the dad you never had. He was hard-nosed but he was fair and somehow you two just clicked.

You worked for one of the most elite household talent staffing companies out there. Your clients usually consisted of, not just wealthy people, but filthy rich and usually the kind that wanted to fly under the radar and needed the utmost discretion. In Mr. Spector’s case, he didn’t want his spiteful children to know how much he was really worth. Sure they were in the will, and they’d certainly do well upon his passing (that was all they seemed to care about), but they’d never see the real number of his assets until it was too late and everything was already doled out according to Mr. Spector’s wishes.

And so you helped him in any way you could to achieve this façade. You found a private accountant for him to move money about and helped him keep the appearance of not having the kind of money he actually did. You suggested, for example, that he not buy the Rolls Royce but that the Mercedes should be sufficient, and that rather than wearing a 31-million-dollar Patek Philippe, diamond-encrusted watch, he go with the more basic, 25-thousand-dollar stainless steel sports model Rolex instead. So he still maintained an air of wealth and prestige because there was no question to anyone that he was super rich. But you just helped him bring it down a notch.

And his winter ball was more like his retirement party this time around. He’d really gone all out. Despite your hesitation with some of his selections, you figured you’d give him this one. And you could admit that helping to plan his parties was one of your favorite tasks. You’d fly to venues all over the world seeking the best (once they’d been narrowed down of course) for him. Find the best chefs and mixologists, the perfect planners and decorators. You got to help select finishings, menus, and staff, right down to the types of linen and even the theme of the events.

And the theme of the night was A Secret Garden in the City. For this, you found a penthouse in Manhattan with full 360-degree views. The space was empty when you first arrived to look at it. You were told it wasn’t a place normally rented for parties but that the owner had intended to make it a fancy restaurant at some point. But it had been sitting for years, empty. And you found the place because Mr. Spector knew everyone. You had a number for a real estate agent to the wealthy in New York City and he gave you a bit of insider information. The penthouse space, he’d told you, could be negotiated by the owner to rent given the right price.

You had landscapers come in and make a garden of the space. Flowers, grass, trees, bushes, vines, even a lily pad pond… when everything was put together, it really did look like you were in a secret garden in the middle of Manhattan. Delicate string lights lit the space, the ceiling was painted a dark sky color so it felt as if you were outside. The table settings were like something out of a Hobbit’s Tale with knotty oak chairs with green silk cushions. The linens were of green satin silk with gold embroidery design and the napkins were gold satin. Centerpieces were potted leafy plants of all types, and moss was placed around the pots to give them that fairyland look. Tiny candles illuminated each table all around. Gold cutlery. Big golden lighted globes hung from the ceiling in various sizes between plants that cascaded down. It really was quite the spectacle.

You were proud of how it all turned out. And the 200 guests that Mr. Spector invited all appeared to be in awe of the space.

The stringed music playing for most of the event in the background was live. The musicians stood to the side of the room on a newly installed platform, trees lined the back of the stage. And now that the night was finally coming to an end, well, the main event had ended, it was time to drink and dance and let loose, the band was switched out for something rockier and more upbeat.

Mr. Spector kissed your cheek and gripped your arm, “My dear, you never cease to astonish me with your hard work. Thank you for this. I’ll see you in the morning okay?”

You tried to get him to stay and enjoy the after-party. And like every year before, he declined. He liked his private time. Liked reading and writing and the quiet. He preferred his guests to enjoy what he’d been able to give them. It was, after all, for them, he always said.

“Even though it’s your last event like this? You won’t get this again, sir. Are you sure?” You smiled at him and he nodded. You knew he’d decline to stay.

So, you ordered your second cocktail of the night once Mr. Spector left. Some type of green concoction with a blackberry-sized red flower floating atop. You didn’t know what was in it. All you knew was that it tasted delicious and it was going to get you into some trouble. But maybe that’s what you were looking for that evening. After all, this was your going away party as well. You’d be put back into the system as active again once you were officially out of Mr. Spector’s employ. It would be time to find your next role.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Many dancing, some sitting and chatting, others making their rounds to network and schmooze. You stayed at the edge of the dance area and let your body move to the rhythm. You kept your eyes on everyone. Even though you were trying to just enjoy yourself you still felt somewhat responsible for all the attendees. It was ingrained in you.

You definitely fit in with everyone, though. Your outfit was couture, high fashion like the rest of the guests. Mr. Spector had paid for everything for you, as always. You picked out a beautiful cowl neck, deep navy-blue velvet dress with a slit that went up to your mid-thigh. The back draped down tastefully but the drape at the front was dangerously low. Just like you wanted. You had red pumps with gold and ruby jewelry. It was always difficult finding things in your size that weren’t from a big box store but the hunt for the perfect dress and accessories was always worth it. And the dress? You felt absolutely sexy. From head to toe.

The song was swingy and fun. More people covered the dance floor and somehow you’d gotten pushed further in. You still had your drink in hand but now it was nearly empty so you were less worried about spilling any of the liquid on yourself.

A woman you recognized as a small IT business owner greeted you and you both chatted as you danced together. When the song changed Elsie pointed at your drink, “You’re low. So am I,” she lifted her glass to show you, “Should we grab more?”

The answer that night was yes. Yes to anything.

The bar that lined the wall opposite the band had people hovering, waiting for their drinks. You let Elsie take the lead in getting the attention of the bartender. She was a tall, slender blond with smooth shiny hair so you figured she’d do better at getting your drinks faster. And you were used to that. Being the fat one, you tended to get overlooked and ignored. When you were younger it hurt a lot more, but these days you learned to use it to your advantage.

It wasn’t that you thought you were ugly or unworthy. You just understood how most people perceived you, even if they were wrong. You were confident when it mattered and took good care of yourself. And you rarely ever mistook a man’s kindness for him flirting with you, which was nice in a way. You couldn’t ever wrap your mind around assuming every guy who was kind to you was flirting. A lot of your friends had that mentality. Any time a man would chat them up they’d automatically jump to thinking they were being sized up somehow. You couldn’t imagine feeling so confident that you thought a man having a conversation with you meant anything more.

So that’s why when the tall, gorgeous man with dark, soft curls, sharp green eyes, and an even sharper jawline leaned in and asked, “Are you having a good time?” You didn’t assume he was flirting with you.

“I definitely am. How about you?” You turned to look up at him. Deep pink lips, broad shoulders, a very expensive suit and shoes, cocky grin.

“Sure. But I had to fly out here to attend last minute. My assistant forgot to add the event to my calendar so I had to settle for this suit and here I am. I’ll deal with her later. Luckily Alfred always throws the biggest and best parties so it’s been worth it.”

You noted the tiny dig to his assistant in the back of your mind and nodded, “Yeah, Mr. Spector loves to go big. It’s turned out great I think.” You had planned on mentioning you were the man of the night’s assistant until Mr. Cocky complained about his own. So you’d keep that little detail to yourself.

He was drinking whisky, neat. And when Elsie finally returned to your spot at the edge of the bar she handed you your tasty green drink and you introduced her.

“Elsie, this is… uh… What was your name?”

“I’m Harry. Harry Styles,” he held his hand out, gaudy rings on most of his fingers toward the pretty blond and she nodded, “Elsie Powers. Nice to meet you.”

The pair got to talking the moment Elsie mentioned her company and so you decided to dip out. You didn’t need to stand around and watch them flirt, which is what you assumed was going on. They were both gorgeous so that seemed natural to you.

But before you could take even a step outside of the little bubble the three of you were in you felt Harry’s hand at your low back as he leaned down to speak into your ear, “Don’t go too far. I was hoping to ask you something.”

You looked down at his arm and back into his eyes, “Okay… I’ll be around. You can come find me.”

When his fingers slid off your back as you stepped away you still felt the heat of his skin where he’d touched you. You liked his touch, but you assumed it happened because you took up so much space. It was more likely, in your mind, that he hadn’t meant to touch you there at all.

After another cocktail and a bit more dancing by yourself, Harry did find you. You didn’t realize it was him at first. You felt a warm body dancing behind you, not touching, just near enough that the heat emanated from him to your back. But then you heard his voice, “Found you. Thought you left.”

You turned to look at him over your shoulder and spoke, “Was planning on staying til the end. Felt like I deserved to enjoy tonight.”

“And why’s that?” Harry’s hand brushed along your bare arm softly before he removed it. You felt the trail of where he’d touched your arm and it made you wonder if he’d done it on purpose.

“No reason. I just deserve it,” you kept swaying your hips and you felt Harry moving with you, standing over you. You could smell his cologne.

“You don’t mind me dancing with you, do you?” His voice was close to your neck as he spoke.

Shaking your head you turned your body to face him, swinging your hips softly, “Not at all.”

He grinned down at you and the dimple that appeared on his cheek had you taken aback. He was truly stunning.

“Good. Wanted to chat some with you. Find out more about you…” he took your hand in his and pulled you closer, shifting the mood a little as you both danced. You silently inhaled in surprise at his gesture.

“And what did you want to know, Mr. Styles?” You raised your brows and smirked at him. You weren’t sure at that point what he was doing. But he was certainly leading you to believe this was more than just a friendly chat.

“First, what’s your name?”

You laughed, “I’m Y/n. I guess I forgot to introduce myself.”

“Are you here alone, Y/n?” His free hand found a spot on your side over your hip.

“I am. What about you?” You weren’t used to receiving this kind of attention from anyone. Much less a wealthy handsome man.

“I’m here alone too,” he kept a cocky grin plastered to his face as he drew nearer and spoke lowly so only you could hear, “But was hoping I wouldn’t be leaving alone.”

It was at that moment you were truly surprised. Was he…? Couldn’t be. You’d surely misread this situation just in the way all your pretty girlfriends misread it every time a guy showed any friendliness. Maybe it was the three cocktails you’d drank and that had you wondering what was in them.

Harry's hand released yours and he brought his ringed fingers up to your shoulder where he brushed the side of your neck, drawing you in closer with his other hand at your hip, “What about you?”

You blinked your eyes and looked up at him in confusion, “What about me? What do you mean?”

Harry’s grin deepened as he looked down at your mouth and took a clear glance at your cleavage before responding, “Did you hope to leave with someone tonight?”

You scoffed and looked around the dance floor before looking back at him, still not quite believing the direction this conversation was headed, “I hadn’t imagined I would leave with anyone. Figured I’d just go back to my hotel room alone after.”

The ridiculously attractive man licked his lips and kept his gaze on yours, “Really? You don’t want someone to take you back to their room and help you out of this pretty dress tonight?”

You began to cough. You’d choked on your own saliva as you inhaled a sharp breath at the wrong moment. His words caught you off guard.

But now you were hacking and bent at the waist, red in the face like an idiot.

Harry patted your back and you heard him speak into your ear, “You okay, darling? Need some water?”

When you’d recovered you and Harry were standing at the edge of the dancefloor away from the crowd and he had a comforting hand on your back.

You laughed and shook your head, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened…” you wiped your face, which was moist from the tears you’d forced out from all the coughing.

Harry took your hand and led you to a free seat, pulling a chair out for you and then sitting next to you, his hand still on your back, “Do you feel better now?”

You nodded and smiled at him. You hadn’t forgotten what he said. But now you were sure whatever he was getting at was all but out the window after your little display.

“Come back with me to my room, Y/n.”

Well, that just blasted your little theory.

You sat up straight and your jaw dropped open wide, “Why?”

Harry laughed, “Because I don’t want to go back alone. Spend the night with me tonight.”

Were you in a dream? Had you drunk too much and were blacked out and hallucinating?

“I don’t… I’m not sure what you…” you were unable to put your thoughts together coherently. You hadn’t expected it. You assumed you weren’t his type. Too chunky for a man like him. Imagined he preferred a more modelesque figure on women he found attractive given his appearance.

“Look. I’ll just be very straightforward with you. I think you’re gorgeous and I’d like to have you in my bed tonight. Naked. How does that sound to you?”

You whispered the word naked back to him as if it were a word you’d never heard before. You took a deep breath and looked around the room.

“What are you drinking? I’ll go get us another so we can chat a bit before you make any decisions.”

Now this question was one you could actually answer, “The cocktail is one from the menu. Called the Grove.”

Harry got up and left you at the table by yourself. You sat back in the seat and sighed. What were you going to do? He was mouth-watering, which is why you choked on your spit in the first place. Your mouth was literally watering at his proximity on the dance floor. And now he was asking you to go back to his room to hook up. He couldn’t have made it clearer. There was no room for you to misinterpret what he meant.

And why should you say no? Why should you go back to your own room and sleep in that big bed all by yourself? Well, mostly because you were worried about getting attached. Sure you didn’t even know the guy but that’s just how you were. You weren’t built for casual hookups or one-night stands. And you were sure that’s all this would be. Could you handle it? Would you be able to have sex with someone and then move on from it?

When you saw Harry walking back toward you you’d made up your mind. You’d finish your drink and tell him your verdict. You needed one more drink, though. Just to really loosen up. If you were going to do this if you were going to take a risk and have sex with a stranger, one more drink would help you relax about the whole situation.

Harry handed you your cocktail and sat down with his whisky in hand. He brushed his fingers over your arm as he spoke about how he knew Mr. Spector, “His cousin was my boss years ago. Before I got started in my current line of business. And since then, Alfred’s been inviting me to his parties. I can’t usually go but I rarely miss the winter ball.”

“And what is your line of business?” You asked before taking another sip of your verdant drink.

Harry grinned and licked his lips, “Let’s not talk business.”

You frowned and looked down at your red-painted nails. It wasn’t always polite to ask people what they did for a living but you figured given the circumstances, those being that he’d just asked you to have sex with him, it was okay. Clearly, you’d misjudged.

Harry gripped your chin and pushed your head back up to look at him, “Don’t feel bad for asking. You were just curious. I think the less we know of one another the better. Besides, work talk is boring. Don’t you think?”

You blinked again, his intense gaze was really working its way under your skin.

“Okay. Sorry. You’re right.”

Harry shook his head, keeping his hand at your chin, “And don’t say you’re sorry. Wouldn’t you rather talk about anything but work right now?” He let go of your chin and sat back in his chair as he kept his eyes on yours.

“I guess. It’s just that everyone here is networking and I thought it was only natural.”

“You and I are not networking, Y/n.” Harry grinned.

By the time your drink was but a clear puddle of melted ice at the bottom of the glass, you could feel how hot your face was from the alcohol. Your neck and ears were burning and all of Harry’s soft touches were making you fuzzy. The way he was whispering in your ear…

“Okay. I’ll go with you to your room tonight,” you spat out quickly before you could change your mind.

Harry’s gaze lowered to your breasts again, his arrogant grin in place, “I know, darling. I was just waiting for you to admit it. You ready then?”

If he wasn’t so hot you’d have changed your mind at his cocky response. But god was he alluring. And somehow, his egotistical attitude was putting you at ease a bit. Because it would possibly be much easier to not get your feelings mixed up for a guy like him. It could just be a one-night stand. Like so many other people indulged in (which you always found absurd).

You both walked to the coat check to get your things before Harry led you, with his hand at your low back to the elevators.

You draped your wool coat over your shoulders and stood awkwardly in the elevator next to the man you were leaving with. You couldn’t believe yourself. You were 28 years old so it shouldn’t have felt like such a big deal but it was. You’d never done anything like it before.

“Are you nervous?”

You sighed and nodded as you looked up at the man, “A little. Haven’t ever done anything like this.”

Harry hummed and nodded, “I can tell. That’s okay. I’ll take the lead.”

There was a black car waiting for you at the curb as soon as you exited the building. A man who was standing near the car opened the back door and gestured for you to get in. You followed behind Harry and the door was shut, closing you off from the outside and loud noises of the city to the dark leather interior of the car. Harry’s hand slid up your exposed thigh the moment you’d settled into the seat, “We’re gonna have a lot of fun, me and you.”

You turned your head to look at him, “Are you always like this? So confident about everything?”

Harry laughed and squeezed at your thigh, “If I wasn’t confident I wouldn’t be as successful as I am.”

You guessed that made sense. You just found it so strange that he was so sure of himself even when he hardly knew you at all.

You felt Harry’s long, ringed fingers slide upward over your plushy thighs in search of your panties most likely. And when he leaned over you and took your jaw with his free hand and smushed his mouth against yours it felt like crystalized water beginning to melt and drip and pool onto the ground.

He pulled your hand onto his lap and pressed your palm over his crotch, to which you felt as he grew harder and harder as the seconds passed with your lips connected.

When he was satisfied that you would be keeping your hand in place as you pressed down harder he raised his hand to your breast, his palm placed over the soft velvet before he lowered his mouth to your neck causing you to lean back the slightest for his access.

The car ride ended before you even realized you’d been moving through the city streets when the door you were sitting next to opened and the driver looked in at you two all disheveled and mid-kiss with his hand out for you to take.

Harry walked you into the hotel, which happened to be the same one you had a room at (how convenient you thought). The elevator ride up to his room was not unlike the car ride where you’d lost track of time and space when his lips were on yours and his tongue softly swiped at your mouth. You’d never had a man act this way with you before. It almost felt like desperation. Like he couldn’t keep his hands off you.

Guiding you off the elevator and to his room, you felt buzzy and your heart was bouncing around in your chest wildly. His hand was at the back of your neck, his long fingers gently ghosting over your skin.

The moment you were pushed into his room Harry stood over you and began to loosen his tie, “Take your dress off. God, I need to see you.”

You were already worked up as you panted, keeping your eyes on his, slowly unzipping the back of your dress and stepping out. You had forgotten that you were wearing a nude shapewear slip that kept your tummy rolls in place and your breasts pert. The back of the slip was low cut to accommodate your dress. You looked down over yourself and stuck your fingers into the fabric to pull it down and as your breasts were revealed Harry groaned and leaned down to wrap his pink lips over your nipple. You watched his tongue drag over your plump flesh and his fingers dig into your heavy tits as he worked his way around both sides.

You were pressed against the wall as he pinned your arms back and kissed his way up your tits to your neck and then he found your lips.

Finally, he backed away, giving you space to finish the reveal of your body to him as he continued removing his own clothes.

You watched tattoos appear on his skin and the more buttons he undid the more you saw of him. He was strong and muscular. His pecs were impressive and he had a soft six-pack hidden under the fabric that you only saw once he tossed his shirt off. Tattoos on his arms scattered over his skin.

Tugging at your slip to get it off you knew Harry’s eyes were on your body. But you weren’t going to stop now. Even if you were slightly embarrassed. This was happening and you knew he wanted it. Sometimes you worried about the logistics of sex being as heavy as you were, especially when it came to being with a guy who was not at all. But Harry’s build was masculine and broad and he was clearly going to be able to handle you.

When his pants were off and he was down to his underwear you knew he was enjoying the view of all your bits based on the thick lump under the fabric. You were left standing in your silky black panties when he stood over you and smoothed his hands up your arms and palmed over your tits, “Jesus fucking Christ look at you. Get on the bed for me.”

You swallowed and stepped toward the area of the room where the bed was and sat at the edge, watching as he stalked after you. His eyes were dark as he crawled over you and nudged you with him into the middle of the perfectly made bed, soft and luxurious feeling under your skin.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he smoothed his lips against yours as he palmed over your skin down to your thigh, pinching at the fleshy insides as he pushed your legs open, putting his knees down into the mattress to keep you spread with his thighs.

He kept his lips working over yours, his tongue smearing against your tongue wetly as you felt his fingers dip down to your panties and then to the wet patch at your center. You could tell you were wet before he even touched you. He’d turned you on with ease. His voice, his body, his eyes, his confidence…

You felt him smile against your lips when he dredged his fingers up and down over your wet panties, right where your labia was. Soft strokes of his fingers pushed the fabric of your panties between your pussylips until he dragged a finger up and found your clit and you gasped. He circled over your clit, pressing the wet fabric into you.

When he lowered himself, using his lips and his tongue down your body as he went he looked up at your face after dotting kisses over your fleshy tummy, “You’re gorgeous and you smell so good. Such a dirty girl, though, aren’t you?” He dabbed more warm kisses down your stomach to just above your panties, “All wet for me like you’re desperate for cock,” he licked along the band of your panties and looked up at you again as he adjusted himself between your legs, “Are you desperate for cock, Y/n? Need me to take care of you tonight?”

You nodded, “Oh my god…” your words came out as a whisper, “Yes, Harry.”

When you felt his tongue glide up your crease over your wet panties your mouth dropped open wide. He was not holding back with the foreplay so far. You were usually disappointed in sex, the few times you’d had it. Foreplay was an afterthought. And only a handful of times did you ever receive any kind of mouth-to-pussy action, which you assumed was due to your size.

But Harry was having no trouble treating you like some kind of irresistible sex pot. He pushed your thighs harder and raked his tongue up and down over you until you’d bucked upward just a bit.

Harry’s fingers pulled at the waistband of your panties, “Taking these off because I need more.”

You felt your panties being moved down your legs then Harry returned with enthusiasm, his lips all over your cunt, sliding his tongue through your folds and his fingers pinching into your flesh before he poked the tip of his wet muscle to your clit and began to lick all around it, lapping you up and teasing you to the point you were shaking and whining, proving him right about how desperate you were.

When he finally stopped his teasing licks he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. You gasped loudly and moaned, to which Harry moaned into your pussy.

His shoulders were against the back of your thighs as he masterfully licked you out and kissed your clit until you were reaching down with one hand to slide your fingers into his thick curls.

And that only seemed to stir something more ravenous in him. He growled when he felt you pulling at his roots and suddenly you felt his fingertips at your entrance before he pushed them in slowly, the metal of his rings being nudged in the slightest. You were in an alternate universe. Somewhere that only existed you and Harry and the bed you were on as you laid spread out for him to pleasure.

He was good with his tongue. He used it over your clit like he understood what you needed, putting pressure where it was vital and then slurping you into his mouth making your entire body quiver in ecstasy. His repeated movements, soft tonguing, pulling at your clit, the bump of his fingers through your walls and into your delicate warmth, the precipice of your orgasm was taunting you.

“Harry!” You yelped when he sucked your clit in especially roughly and his fingers dug in deep making your pussy squelch.

He smiled and lifted his mouth, speaking against your cunt, hot breath coating your labia and clit, “Feels good, Y/n? You gonna let me give you an orgasm?”

You moaned pitifully and nodded to yourself as you scrunched your face when he attached his wet lips back to your clit and curled his fingers just right, “Yes! Oh my god…”

You had never felt anything like it before. Like Harry. And maybe it wasn’t that he was all that good at cunnilingus (he was), but perhaps it was the way he was handling you. The way he was so eager to make you feel good. The way he wasn’t worried about his own throbbing cock between his legs, growing heavier by the minute as he sucked and licked and kissed your cunt.

His focus was on you completely and you felt that. You felt his attention and his devotion to your pleasure before his. And that was what did it for you. It was the care and thoughtfulness of it all. It wasn’t like anything you’d experienced with any man before and it pushed you over the edge.

Your orgasm rolled out of you in waves as you writhed under him and cried curses and nonsense into the room. He held you down with one hand as well as he could so he could lavish you with his mouth until you were done with your unraveling. His fingers stroked your insides as you pulsed around them and felt the tingle of your clit being overwhelmed by his lips. You gasped and laughed at the way he continued ravaging you well past what was necessary.

Releasing his hair you pushed yourself up by your elbows to see his face still between your legs, his eyes closed like he was enjoying it just as much as you had. It might have been the hottest thing you’d ever seen in your life. But that could have been all those feel-good chemicals being released in your brain post-orgasm.

You pushed at his forehead to indicate you were done, “Okay!” You tried closing your legs but Harry pulled his fingers from your pussy and pressed you down as he licked up and up and up. Until finally he opened his eyes and looked at you, lips still making out with your pussy as you laughed and tried pulling away.

“It’s too much!” You giggled and moved your hips under him.

Finally, he parted from your labia and pushed himself up over you, caging you in as he hovered, “Good?” He raised his brows.

You rolled your eyes, “Obviously.” You laughed as you spoke.

Harry grinned and you watched him move away from you, pulling his underwear down and exposing his weighty cock, thick and long. Yes. He’d be able to handle you just fine.

He grasped it in his hand and moved next to you. You sat up and reached out to feel him, velvety and warm under your palm before getting to your knees and looking up at him as you lowered your lips to his shaft. You wanted to feel it on your mouth and in your mouth.

Dragging your wetted lips down until you reached the base you gripped him and tongued your way up to his tip and heard a shallow gasp from his chest. Licking around his crown you pulled at his skin and wrapped your lips around just the very tip of his head before slipping your tongue around him and sucking softly.

A beautiful deep moan was music to your ears. He was enjoying it. So you indulgently lowered yourself down a bit more, feeling the width of him take up space inside your mouth and on your tongue. Gentle strokes of your lips over the top part of his shaft and over his swollen head felt good for you. You hadn’t given head in a long time. And you could tell Harry was into it.

He smelled good. Nice and clean and warm. You used your hand to pull at the base of his shaft up to your parted lips as you sucked on him and lapped around his skin.

When Harry’s moans turned into a rhythmic panting you felt his hand at your jaw, nudging you up until your lips were pulled away from his pretty cock, “You are desperate for cock. Sucking me like that? If I didn’t want fuck you so bad I’d let you finish me off with that gorgeous mouth.”

You shifted back as Harry leaned over you and pressed his mouth against yours, his hand at your neck pushing you down into the mattress. His mouth was wet and smelled like you as he smeared his lips on yours. You moaned when he parted from you and got off the bed.

You could hear the crinkling of the wrapper from the condom as he sorted himself out and then crawled back next to you, taking your hand, “How’s that sound, Y/n? Want my cock inside your soft pussy? Hmm?”

Looking down at his hard length, covered in a condom, and back into his eyes you nodded, “Yeah,” you were breathless.

The grin on Harry’s face as he moved between your legs, his eyes on yours was like someone who’d just gotten the best news they’d heard all day. He thread his fingers through yours, pressing the back of your hand down into the mattress near your head.

The front of his strong thighs pushed against the inside of yours as he positioned himself over you. His cock heavy on your belly before he moved back, letting go of your hand to grasp himself.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good. I want to hear how good it makes you feel, okay?” His tip dragged through your wet labia, up and down, “Just lie there like the pretty little thing you are, and let me fuck you deep.”

You nodded as you watched his eyes. He was looking down at where his cock was brushing over your wet and puffy pussylips, his lips parted as he bumped into your clit and then smacked his girth down over you.

The sound of his cock dragging through your arousal made you feel like a different person. No man had ever taken the time to indulge the way Harry was. It was clear by the look on his face that he liked everything he saw and even how soaked you were.

You felt the tip of his broad head nudge into your entrance as he looked at you with dark pupils. He pulled his brows together as he savored the feel of you and gently pushed through the ring of your wet muscle. Just knowing that you were making him feel like that had you moaning with your eyes locked on his.

“Feel that, Y/n?” He slowly dipped in and pulled back, wetting the condom as he went, pushing in deeper on each thrust forward.

“I feel it…” your words came out shaky as his length was forced through your slick walls, spreading your insides apart slowly.

Harry inhaled a breath and let out a deep moan when his cock reached as far as he could take it, “Taking my cock so good,” he pulled back and looked down at the scene between your legs. All wet and puffy, his cock coated in your creamy arousal. He loved the way your pussy gripped him and your labia stretched around his cock, “Gonna be dreaming of this,” he pressed his thumb over the space where his cock was moving into your entrance and then up to your clit to rub circles softly, wet and warm.

“Ohhh…” you whimpered when his thumb pressed into your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your entire body was boiling and buzzing as Harry rocked into you, his balls thwacking slowly into your ass.

“Yeah? Tell me how you like it, pretty girl.”

How could you answer this man with his dick lodged so deep in your tummy? How did he expect you to make a coherent sentence with the way his thumb was stroking your clit back and forth? How could your brain form any sort of response when his cock was dragging through your insides and pressing into all your bits, hitting your hidden spots like his shape was made just for you?

“I want it… Mmm… like that…” was all you could bear to squeak out when he smacked into you in one harsh thud.

“Harder? Softer?” His thumb never ceased the yummy caressing of your fleshy pearl.

“Fuck!” You gasped when he smacked into you again, causing your body to jolt upward from the force.

“Like that? Need it a little rougher, Y/n? Need my cock to split you in half?” Again, a harsh thrust into your guts that had you gurgling and falling apart too soon.

“Oh she wants it a little rough, I can tell. Your cute pussy likes a good pounding doesn’t she?”

You held your breath when you felt him angle over you and sink down into you until it hurt. Until his long cock was buried in so deep his balls were tucked against your ass as he ground himself in, “Pussy like this needs a lot of attention. Lots of care…” he moaned when you clenched around him, “Want me to take care of you? Want to feel what my cock can do to this pretty little pussy?”

“Yes, please, Harry!” You grasped onto his forearm as he rolled solidly into you, deep and slow, slushy and sopping between your thighs.

“Yeah? Gonna stuff myself so far into you that you can’t breathe. Gonna make you come so hard you’ll never want another cock again.”

You moaned and felt his crushing weight over you as he continued grinding his hips against yours but then suddenly he was pulling out and you felt a sting on your thigh when he smacked you, “Get on all fours.”

You were blurry and floaty as you rolled over and pushed yourself up to do as he asked. Your pussy puffy and begging for more of his cock.

His hands gripped the side of your hips tight and you smushed your face down to the mattress before you felt his cock rip into you in one punishing stroke. You cried out and he did it again. And again. His cock pummeled into you repeatedly, punching the air from your lungs and giving your pussy the best fucking of its life.

You did like it hard. A little rough. Nothing wild, just something that you could feel for a couple of days. Something that made you gasp and brace for more.

“Holy fuck…” Harry gritted as he fucked into you, watching his dick disappear repeatedly. Your pretty round bottom bouncing and wiggling at each plunge. He dug his fingers into your ample flesh and spread you out so he could watch as you gripped him exactly like he loved. The little noises you were making had him reeling.

It was his favorite. A beautiful woman with her ass in the air as he railed her deep. But especially when it was a nice big ass. He loved to be able to grip something in his hands. To squeeze and smack. It always felt so much better to have something to hold on to. Not that he didn’t love slender women. He certainly did. But there was nothing like the feminine physique of a woman with meat on her bones, wide hips, a big tummy, and extra bits to touch and run his fingers over. It was fucking sexy.

You could feel him as he worked you open. He buried in deep and then pulled back until his thick tip was being pushed through your entrance again and again. He was long and every inch of him pulled and pushed through your walls, sliding along all your bits and ridges making your skin heat up.

Then you felt his chest against your back and his cock was angled so far inside of you that your eyes nearly crossed, “Love your little gurgles and moans, Y/n. Feels good on my cock?” He rolled into you, keeping himself stuffed to the hilt.

“Yes! Fuck, Harry!” You turned your head to speak so he could hear you and then you felt his lips on your back as he kept rocking into you languidly, never pulling back, only dipping into you, swiveling his hips to ensure you could feel every part of his cock moving through you.

You felt a tear drip from your eye as he reached down for your hand and moved it toward your pussy, “Rub that wet clit, sweet girl. Want to see you quivering under me again.”

The moment your fingertips came into contact with your puffy nub you moaned and all you could feel was Harry’s warmth and his big cock and your clit being worked just how you liked.

He began to rut into you with unforgiving strength. Your body was being smacked into and your skin was beginning to burn where his hips were striking your ass. It felt incredible. It felt like a man who knew what he was doing.

“Yes! Yes!” You shakily cried out. Harry’s long shaft was gliding in and out and you could feel him every time your fingertips moved back the slightest. His heavy cock slipping into your pussy vigorously as you ran your fingers back and forth, up and down on your clit.

Harry put a hand on your low back and settled his thumb into the top of your crack as he watched your cunt swallow him on each thrust. He bit his lip at the gorgeous sight and lowered his other hand to your right cheek, pulling at your flesh to give himself a better look at how you were taking him. How perfect you were for his cock.

When he noticed your moans growing louder and more desperate and then saw your thighs shaking he pounded into you with deliberate, long strokes so you could really feel him inside of you.

And feel him you did. His length filled you up and pulled back, before pressing back in until your world began to spin and your pussy was powerless to your orgasm. You reared yourself back onto his cock and cried out pathetically as Harry breathed heavily and felt your cunt sucking him in and spasming around him.

“Oh, baby…” he moaned and watched more cream coat his cock from your pussy. You were coming hard, lips wide open as you cried out and gasped, and the way you were clenching around his cock felt like the best thing he’d ever experienced during sex. You were fucking sexy.

When your voice lowered and your body stopped quivering Harry halted his movements and ran his hands on your back gently and down to your bum, keeping his cock lodged inside of you, “Creamed all over my cock, Y/n,” swiped his thumb around the area where you two were connected and lifted it to his mouth to taste.

You panted and smiled into the blanket when he suddenly pulled out and popped your bottom with his palm, “On your back. Want to see that pretty face again.”

You were on the verge of being completely wiped out. You knew he hadn’t come yet, though, and you felt like he deserved it with how fucking good he was. Two orgasms already. That was unheard of for you.

Harry helped you situate and he fit himself between your thighs. You looked down at his cock and noted he was right about you creaming all over him. White gobs of your arousal at his shaft and in the thatch of dark, trimmed hair at his base. God his cock was good.

“You feel so good on my cock, Y/n. You know that?” He pressed his tip inside of you, making you drop your mouth open and he gasped. The way he stretched you apart was insane. It felt incredible.

“Fuck… your pussy needs my cock inside of her. Yeah? I could fuck this sweet cunt all day and never get tired of it. Fuck, baby…” he moaned his words as he thrust into you, his hips dragging against you and your clit being pushed into with each plunge.

You took your breasts in your palms and kneaded at them as you watched Harry’s face twist up in rapturous despair. Every roll of his hips was torture for him. His body wanted to come but he had planned on you having one more orgasm. Wanted to feel you squeezing and pulsing around him as he came with you. The decadence of being able to feel your pussy coming around him as he was pouring into you would be bliss.

The edge of his hairline was wet with sweat. You knew he was working hard to give you his cock the way you needed it. His arms were flexing as he held himself up over you, back and thighs clenching and stretching as his muscles exerted, loosening and tightening.

Now there was no slap of skin or the sound of thuds filling the room, it was only hot breaths and gasps and wet pussy being fucked. The occasional distant sound of people moving past his suite on their way to their own.

Deeper and deeper he stuffed himself as he kept his radiant green eyes locked on your face. Your insides were bowing and tensing and vibrating with delight. It was the best you’d ever gotten and his handsome face watching you had your head spinning and your body melting under him. He was too good. The way he was tugging his cock inside of you and stroking your walls and fitting himself deep into your guts like he was trying to reach up into your spine and your lungs under your ribcage… it was going to stick with you for a long time. And he was probably right. You’d be dreaming of his cock. You were sure of it.

His pacing was perfect; smooth, wet thrusts and a satisfying angle that had your whole body resonating with sex and electric crackles like you’d never felt. His undulating hips kissing your clit each time he ground into you.

“Look at your tits jiggling, Y/n. Fucking so hot…” he panted his words like he was out of breath, “Damn baby,” he moaned as he slowed his stride for a moment to collect himself. His balls were already tightening against his body, ready to release too soon.

He leaned over you and pressed his lips against yours and it made your skin and pores and nerves spark and convect. Little by little your pulse accelerated until you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. His tongue inside your mouth and his perfect cock inside of your tummy, the smell of him and of you and the soft bed beneath your back- it had you nearly going up in flames.

When he finally began to move again, when he’d steadied his composure so he could last a little longer you gasped into his mouth.

Now his long strokes were thick and stunted, his shaft inching in and in and in until you couldn’t breathe. His nose pressed into yours and his lips moved around your lips, smearing saliva over your warm, plush mouth with his tongue. It was filthy, the way he kissed. Wet, aching. Like he was fucking your lips with his tongue at the same time he was filling your pussy with his cock.

You felt his muscles begin to shake as he parted from your mouth and looked down at you. Blown-out pupils, pink parted lips, and a flushed face. He was about to come and you could see it on his face and in the way he was panting and getting louder with each jerk of his hips. It was delicious.

“You gonna come, baby? Gonna milk my cock with your cunt, squeeze around me, and drain me?”

Grabbing onto his forearms you nodded and feebly whimpered, “Yes… oh my god…”

Harry groaned as he canted his hips sloppily and his thrusts grew erratic as he held back to wait for you to come first.

You’d always heard of the mythical concept of a cock fitting together perfectly with the right pussy and how it could make women come from penetration alone when they’d never been able to before. You’d never experienced it and thought it was just a made-up fantasy. A wild fable.

But you were wrong. Harry’s cock proved you wrong. He was nudging into things inside of you that even your vibrator missed and as shocking as it was to know you were about to come, yet again, you were of no mind to think too much about that because your body was submitting to the way he was handling you and your pussy was already beginning to flutter around him and pulse as you gasped and dropped your mouth wide.

Yes, you were having one of those kinds of orgasms that you could feel from the inside out. That made your ears feel stuffy and your vision go white as you cried out loudly.

Harry choked out a gasp as soon as he felt your walls gripping him and you tossed your head back, moaning his name over and over again like you needed the room to know who was making you fall apart.

Your pussy wrapped around him so perfectly and he looked down from your perfect tits to your face and he lost it. His own cry of your name was loud as he threw his head back and throbbed, releasing into his condom, his come filling the tip full as you milked him with your pulsing orgasm.

Divine. Complete and utter perfection. He hadn’t come so hard in years and the way you responded to him only coaxed him deeper into his own ecstasy.

When his cock stopped pumping and twitching he opened his eyes and looked down at you looking all fucked out and satisfied. Exactly what he had hoped for when he brought you to his room. Better even.

When your gaze finally found his he smiled down at you. He figured it would be nice to have you again in the morning if you were up for it because he certainly didn’t want to have you leave. Not yet. Maybe he’d order room service and you two could talk some more. Maybe another round or perhaps you’d both just crash after that marathon. But he knew he’d want to give you a parting gift in the morning at the very least. One of those soft and lazy morning fucks before kissing you and sending you off so he could catch his flight the following afternoon.

Yeah. That sounded nice to him.

But the sudden sound of his phone buzzing had him turning to look at the nightstand. You’d barely recovered from your scorching orgasm when he rolled off of you and quickly picked up the phone, his back to you, “Hello?”

You inhaled deeply. You still couldn’t believe you’d just done that. With a stranger nonetheless.

“No, I’m okay. Just ran to grab the phone is all.” He was panting just enough that whoever was on the line had wondered what he’d been doing. You turned your head to look at him. His back was to you.

“Sure, babe. See you then.”

You sat up quickly. Babe?

Harry stood from the bed and picked up his pants, “I’m sure you can get your clothes on and be on your way quickly. Yeah?”

You instinctively covered your chest with your mouth dropped open, “What?!” Harry paused before putting his shirt on and looked at you with an unamused expression, “I said you need to leave.” He raised his voice a notch as if the reason you asked him what was because you hadn’t heard.

You shook your head and slid off the bed feeling dirty and shameful, reaching to the ground for your discarded dress, “I know what you said. I was surprised that you were… never mind.”

The sudden change in his attitude toward you was a shock. He’d been so attentive and affectionate and now he was cold. Inconsiderate. You struggled to keep up with the abrupt shift in his temperament.

Harry walked to the window as you shimmied into your dress and attempted zipping it up, “Fuck…” you mumbled under your dress. The last thing you wanted to do was ask this asshole to help you but really didn’t want to walk out of his room with your dress half unzipped and your ass crack hanging out.

“Can you please help?” You sighed and looked over at him. God, you hated how attractive he was, especially now that he was being so cold to you suddenly.

 Harry silently shook his head to himself as he tucked his shirt in and walked toward you as if it were some terrible chore to help you.

“There. Now I really need you to go. Quickly.”

You hadn’t even had the chance to wipe up in the bathroom or pee. You were stunned at his behavior.

You gave him your dirtiest scowl, scooped up your underwear, and grabbed your small purse, stuffing your bra and panties inside. The slip you had to carry in your hands. As you pulled your shoes back on your feet one at a time, Harry was plucking the condom off the floor and looking around the room in a slight panic.

“Fuck you, Harry. This is rude. You didn’t have to treat me like garbage. Not like I was gonna fall for you or something you prick.” When your feet were securely in your shoes Harry walked across the room toward you as you tried to make your way to the door to leave.

“Y/n?”

You turned to look at him.

“Can you toss this in the garbage near the elevator for me? Thanks,” he pressed the used condom that was stuffed into a tissue into your hand and you nearly lost it. Nearly fucking karate chopped his ass to the ground and stomped on his face. But then you realized something. He was in a hurry to get you out of his room because he had someone coming up to see him. Someone he wanted to hide the condom from. A lover? Girlfriend? Wife?

Instead of responding verbally you flipped him off and slammed the door behind yourself. But before you walked away from the door you pulled the condom from the tissue and put it over his doorknob, nice and tight. The used rubber was still heavy with his come and you smiled as you dropped the tissue onto the floor and pulled out a cocktail napkin and pen from your purse, pressed your lips into it to leave it lightly stained with your leftover lipstick, and then wrote Thank you, Harry xx. You balanced the napkin right over the condom on the doorknob and then grinned to yourself as you walked down the hallway to the elevator. You sure were glad your room was in the same hotel. When the elevator doors opened a pretty blonde stepped off and rushed past you, headed in the direction of Harry’s room. She barely even glanced your way before you stepped onto the elevator and pressed 2 for your floor.

So maybe it wasn’t a terrible ending to the night after all.

Part 2

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[tumbleweed-writes]

From your smut prompt list....how about #1 and #44 for my favorite scotsman Chibs?

Belonging.

I have zero idea how this got so filthy. I would apologize for the filth, but it's smut. What'd ya expect???

18+ Only obviously.

Chibs pushes Y/N away in a poorly thought out attempt to protect her . Y/N decides to go on a date with a rebound to mend her broken heart and Chibs is left trying to remind Y/N that they belong with one another.

========

This date was a terrible idea. In fact, it might be the worst idea she’d ever had in her entire life. The thought danced through her head as she studied herself in the floor length mirror in her bedroom. A voice in the back of her head exclaimed that the polite and handsome rookie cop who’d asked her on a date was not quite worthy of the pretty little floral dress she’d chosen to wear.

The white knee length dress was adorned with red roses and the sweetheart neckline gave a perfect view of her cleavage. The red heels she’d worn with it made her legs look so appealing. She’d spent far too long curling her hair and picking out a perfect shade of red lipstick to match the roses on her dress.

The dress had been bought with a much different man in mind. Her heart ached as it reminded her that this man was clearly no longer worthy of this dress.

When she met Filip Chibs Telford she should have been wise enough to know he would break her heart.

She had been new in town opening a bakery not far from Floyd’s Barbershop on main street. She’d used what little inheritance she’d received from her grandfather to follow her dreams and open a bakery. She’d taken a huge risk having left her safe and stable job to follow her passions and open her own business. She’d been praying the risk would pay off.

She’d chosen to move from San Francisco out to Charming, California. She’d been charmed by the name, no pun intended, and the small town atmosphere.  It felt like the perfect place to follow her dreams.

One of her very first customers had been one Gemma Teller Morrow.

The intimidating looking Queen of SAMCRO had been looking for a birthday cake for her grandson and had been impressed with Y/N’s work.

Y/N had been nervous but delighted to have her first big client and she’d thrown herself into making the Harley Davidson themed cake for the toddler.

The men who had been sent to pick up said cake had not been what she’d been expecting. The Scotsman in particular had caught her attention; the accent quite uncommon in the middle of northern California.

She’d been unaware that she had caught his attention as well. 

At the time of their first meeting she’d been a bit distracted by Bobby Munson who’d been talking to her about the secret to a perfect muffin. She’d not noticed the Scottish Son admiring her during the discussion she’d been having with Bobby over preferred leavening agents and the perfect ratio of fruit to batter in blueberry muffins.

Bobby had become a frequent visitor to her bakery after the birthday cake job, and much to her shock the Scotsman had joined him more often than not.

The very first conversation Chibs and she had ever had one on one had been over shortbread, in particular his praise for her shortbread. She’d taken it as a genuine compliment when he’d admitted that her Scottish shortbread was the best he’d had stateside.

A friendship had formed between Chibs and she, although she knew to outsiders it might appear to be a strange friendship; the scary looking forty something year old outlaw biker being so buddy buddy with the young sweet looking baker. It was an odd mix; leather and whiskey with floral dresses and cupcakes.

The change in their friendship had come unexpectedly. She’d had some trouble with a local developer who’d been visiting Charming; the man had begun attempting to intimidate Y/N into backing out of her lease. He’d been quite pushy with a few of the businesses on main street.

He had intentions of building some upscale condos and high end retail on the street. He thought Charming would be a perfect getaway for yuppies looking to escape the big city. 

Apparently the landlord who owned this particular strip of buildings on main street was not interested in selling the property. He’d figured he had a pretty good deal going with the businesses operating there as most had been there for decades. 

So the developer had taken to attempting to get the business owners who were renting the shop spaces to back out of their lease. 

His attempts to get Y/N to give up her retail space had been friendly at first, until it had become clear that she was not interested in moving from her place of business no matter how much money he was willing to throw at her. 

He’d gotten quite demanding and it had become full on harassment. 

SAMCRO didn’t take kindly to the developer taking an interest in Charming’s real estate if it meant bringing in outsiders to the safe haven that was Charming, and Chibs had not taken kindly to the man attempting to intimidate the pretty young baker who he’d taken such a liking to.

SAMCRO had been willing to come to her defense and Chibs had seemed to take quite the pleasure in scaring off the developer.

Y/N’s intention to thank the guys with baked goods, and Chibs with his own batch of Scottish Shortbread, had been started with innocent intentions.

The guys had appreciated the muffins she’d baked them as well as the cake. Chibs had appreciated the shortbread…but somehow her thank you to him had gotten a little out of hand.

One second he’d been standing in her shop accepting the box of shortbread and the next minute her lips had been pressed to his; his hands caressing her body.

She was grateful that the bakery had been closed and it had been late enough at night because Chibs had wound up taking her back to the kitchen and one thing had led to another. She was sure the health department would shut her down if they’d ever known just what she allowed Chibs to do to her, bending her over the counter, and what they’d done on the floor. 

They’d laid side by side nude on the kitchen floor both out of breath staring up at the ceiling when the words had left him. “I think it kinda goes without sayin that I like ye a lot.”

The giggle that had left her made a smile cross his features, the smile only growing as she spoke in response. “Good, I like you a lot too.”

Things had been good; they’d been happy.

Then things had changed. Jax Teller had taken the gavel becoming club pres and Chibs had become his SGT At Arms.

With the new title came some unexpected distance between Chibs and she. Y/N had figured at first that perhaps Chibs had just been busy given all the changes in the club, but then weeks had gone by and then before she knew it a month had gone by and she barely heard from him.

She’d made several attempts to reconnect with him and find the spark they seemed to have lost; but he’d just seemed to brush off her attempts. She’d called and paid visits to TM Auto…she’d even visited the clubhouse and his apartment, but he’d seemed so eager to push her away.

The last interaction they’d had told her all she needed to know.

They’d been standing in his dorm room at the clubhouse after she’d paid a visit practically begging him to just give her a moment of his time. 

She could remember the words that she’d said to him. “Lately, I just feel like maybe you don’t love me as much as I love you. I just feel so…neglected. I know you’re busy, but I’d like to at least feel like you still have a moment for me in your life. Lately, it feels like I have to fight tooth and nail to get you to glance my way. I know there’s been a lot of changes for you in the club, and I’m trying to be supportive…I am trying so hard to meet you halfway, but it feels like I’m the only one trying. I feel like I’m fighting so hard for us. I’m so tired of fighting, Filip…I can’t be the only one fighting for us.”

The words she’d gotten in response had felt like a knife to the chest. “Maybe it aint worth fightin fer.”

“I love you, how is that not worth fighting for?” She questioned not above pleading with him. This just seemed to be coming out of left field. She didn’t understand how he could claim that they weren’t worth fighting for.

He’d always made her feel so loved and adored. She felt so connected to him. He made her feel so wonderful. How had he changed so quickly without even a moment's notice? 

The response she got cut her all the more deeply. “Jus leave me alone, Y/N.”

He paused the next words that left him sounding uncharacteristically cruel. “It was fun while it lasted, aye? Ye were a good fuck. We got each other off and it was all good n’ well. Shite is getting too deep between us lately; too personal. It’s gettin a wee bit pathetic on yer half. Yer clingy and desperate. Like I said, shite is pathetic. I can’t do commitment, Lass. I ain't the type to give ye the white wedding and white picket fence. We’re two different people from two very different worlds. We should own up to the fact that our paths ain’t goin to align. Ye shoulda known from the start what this shite was between us. This was never anythin serious fer me. I don’t love ye.”

Those words had shattered her heart; she only managed to step back from him as though he’d slapped her. She spoke, her words harsh, tears flooding her vision. “I wish I had never met you.”

With that she’d turned away and fled from his room and his life.

She’d allowed herself time to cry and have the biggest pity party known to man. Then she’d done her very best to put on a brave face and carry on with her life without Chibs Telford. She had returned to work and pasted a smile on her face. She’d thrown herself into her work. She had ignored the looks of pity that had been sent her way as Bobby and a few brave members of SAMCRO had dared to still come to her shop for baked goods.

She’d not seen neither hide nor hair of Chibs Telford though, and even though her heart might claim differently, her head insisted that it was just as well for her.

Even if her heart screamed that it was a lie; she swore that she never cared to see Filip Chibs Telford ever again as long as she lived and breathed. 

When a handsome young rookie cop had stepped into her shop with his little sister in tow looking to buy a treat for the girl; Y/N had been flattered by his obvious flirtation. She hated to admit it was cute. Guys who were good with kids were appealing. 

Though she didn’t quite get the same weak kneed putty feeling she got when Chibs flirted with her; she’d forced herself to flirt back with the young officer.

When he’d come back a week ago and asked her out for dinner, she’d said yes despite her heart screaming at her that she was not ready.

That was how she wound up sitting at an Italian restaurant on main street with her date. The restaurant was nice; romantic and cozy. The candlelight failed to invoke romantic notions in Y/N though as she stared at her date.

Seth; his name was Seth.

He was sweet, intelligent, handsome, and funny. He was kind and seemed as though he was passionate about his work. He had brought her a bouquet of roses and complemented her outfit. He’d held the car door open for her. He’d hung on every word she’d said tonight. He didn’t do a thing for her though. 

There was no spark there at all. He didn’t make her heart skip a beat. He didn’t make her feel that stir of lust deep within her. He didn’t make butterflies fill her belly. He didn’t make her feel like a nervous schoolgirl. 

She found herself comparing him to a certain Scotsman. He had a nice smile but his smile was missing the dimples she adored in Chibs. He had a charm to him; but it was not the same charm Chibs Telford had mastered. He was handsome and young, but Chibs was handsome in his own right and she was fond of the gray along his temples. Seth had a slow California accent but it was nothing like Chibs’ thick Scottish brogue. Seth was brave due to his career, but she didn’t feel the same sense of protection she felt around Chibs. He was funny, but he failed to make her laugh as hard as Chibs though. He was sexually appealing, but she didn’t find herself picturing what he might be like in bed. A voice in the back of her head exclaimed that he could not please her the way Chibs had done.

Chibs Telford had ruined her for other men, and she despised him for it. 

It felt hopeless. She hated that she was on a date with a nice and socially acceptable man and all she could think about was the socially unacceptable man who had been awful to her the last time they’d spoken. How was she this pathetic?

She loved a man who did not want nor love her. She could not think of anything more pitiful. 

She frowned as Seth spoke a frown crossing his features. “What do you think?”

“About?” She dared to ask hoping it was not so obvious she’d not been paying attention to a word he’d said thus far. She had no idea what they were even talking about.

“The sushi place they’re putting in? It’s going in out near that coffee shop by Jones Appliance Repair. Everyone’s been talking about it.” Seth explained the frown deepening he most likely picking up on the fact that she’d not been paying attention to him nor the conversation he’d been attempting to carry along with her.

“Oh, uh, I’d be curious to try it out.” She remarked her cheeks flushing ever so slightly mortified it was obvious she was not able to focus on this date at all.

Seth scrunched his nose up at the response he fast to reply. “Oh, I don’t think I’d be brave enough to try it. Eating raw fish just seems kind of unsanitary. I don’t know…seems like it might make you sick. I mean you really aren't supposed to eat raw meat, ya know?.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, tempted to snap that people ate sushi all the time and fared just fine. She pushed back the comment ignoring the voice in the back of her head that claimed Chibs would endure trying it with her even if he felt wary of it. He would try it if he thought it would make her happy.

She hated the thought, reminding herself that Chibs cared very little about what made her happy. If he cared about her happiness, he would not have broken her heart.

He didn’t love her. He’d said the words himself. Nothing between them had been serious according to him. He did not want her. 

“Are you okay? You seem miles away.” Seth observed she cringing at the statement.

She sighed, deciding to just be honest with him. He seemed like a nice enough guy and she felt guilty that she was unable to really commit to this date. She was using him as a rebound and she felt awful for using him in such a way. She felt like an awful person. Didn’t hurt people hurt people though? “I just got out of a relationship…he broke up with me and I guess, I’m still kind of heartbroken over it. I found out he wasn’t taking it as seriously as I was…or at least that’s what he said. I guess I'm still in love with him…which sucks, because he doesn’t love me. You’re a nice guy, but my head and heart are kind of a mess right now. Rejection stings, and my heart just feels so heavy lately. I guess, I’m just not entirely ready for any of this…I thought this date would be a good idea, but I’m just not ready.”

Seth nodded his head, reaching down to toy with the polished fork on the table. “Your ex is that Scottish guy, right? The biker, he’s in that club, The Sons of Anarchy?”

She furrowed her brow at the comment. She knew SAMCRO was well known around town…but she found it strange that Seth would have enough knowledge about the club to place the fact that she’d been previously involved with Chibs. She spoke the words flying from her lips. “How do you know that?”

Seth shrugged his shoulders he fast to respond. “I’ve seen them around town…saw you on the back of the Scottish guy’s bike once a few months back.”

He was fast to speak again. “Sheriff Roosevelt knows the Sons of Anarchy are up to no good despite their company line of just being motorcycle enthusiasts. The last sheriff Charming had was apparently way too willing to turn the other cheek when it came to SAMCRO. Pretty sure old Unser was just as crooked as the MC. Now that San Joaquin has absorbed the Charming Police department, the days of turning the other cheek are over. Most honest cops worth their salt would love to bust those guys. I’ve seen the records these guys have, the Scottish guy too. They’re criminals, there’s no way of sugar coating it. It’s some crazy shit. They’re an international organization, don’t know if you knew that. The Feds have tried and failed to bust them. The ATF were in town a few years back and they didn’t manage to pin them down the way they’d hoped. So, if the local PD did it, it’d be impressive.”

He paused, shrugging his shoulders the words that left his lips sounding so nonchalant. “I imagine you have to know something about what they’re up to given you dated one of them. I mean, I’m pretty sure you’re smart enough to see the red flags he must have been giving off.”

“Did you ask me out so you could dig for information about my ex and SAMCRO?” She snapped, the thought making her blood boil.

She was being used wasn’t she?

“Not entirely. I asked you out because you’re attractive and you seem like a sweet girl despite your dating history. Anything you might say about your ex and his friends is just a bonus.” Seth remarked.

 Y/N reacted by picking up her wine glass, tossing the liquid within it in his face.

Seth wiped his face, a scoff leaving him, his dress shirt now stained with red wine that had managed to drip down his face before he had a chance to really wipe it away. “Guess you’re really not over the ex if you’re this defensive over it. The guy seriously broke your heart and you’re still protecting him. Dude is a scumbag and you’re this upset about the idea of him being busted.”

He spoke nodding at the large windows, to their left, that gave a view of the street outside the restaurant. “Guess he’s not over you either. I noticed him following us when I picked you up. I’m surprised you didn’t hear his bike or notice him. Like I said though, you’ve been miles away all night. He really did a number on you. It’s a shame. You seemed like such a sweet girl and he’s ruined you, clearly.”

She turned in her seat spotting the motorcycle across the street and the familiar man standing beside it. She could see him standing by his bike, his arms crossed, his eyes squinted as he struggled to peer through the restaurant windows in the dim light of dusk.

She grimaced, torn between wanting to stay here and endure this horrible date or wanting to go outside and risk confronting the man who had broken her heart.

She sighed deciding that her heart was going to hurt either way. She might as well go with the devil she knew.

She spoke, gathering her purse and her jacket. “Lose my number. I am not going to be a career stepping stone for you. I may be ruined, but I’m not stupid nor is my self esteem low enough to let myself be used by another man ever again.”

With that she gathered what little she had left of her pride, ignoring Seth’s comment as she walked away from him. “Don’t come crying to me when he winds up in prison. He’s a criminal, Y/N. Don’t forget that. He’ll never change.”

She kept her head down as she left the restaurant pretending she did not see the Scotsman watching her every move.

She cringed as she heard the sound of a bike starting up. She moved a little quicker knowing it was a futile endeavor as she could not outwalk his Harley especially not in red open toed pumps.

“Get on the bike, Lass.” The comment sounded out beside her.

“Fuck you.” She snapped, daring to glare at him, not stopping her pace.

Chibs sighed, rolling his eyes at the comment. “Aye, I deserve that.”

“No kidding. You’re a real piece of shit, showing up here after the last time I saw you. I hate you.” She remarked her pace speeding up Chibs not giving up riding along beside her slowly.

“Now that ye got that outta yer system, will ye please jus get on the damn bike? What do ye think yer even doin? Are ye seriously goin to walk home? Ye live miles away, Love. Jus let me take ye home.” Chibs responded, flinching a bit at the venom behind her words.

“No, I don’t need a damn thing from you. I am no longer your concern. We were never serious, remember?” She snapped back, turning down an alleyway attempting to escape him.

Chibs remained undeterred, parking his bike at the curb and dismounting it. He followed her down the alleyway, his voice sounding drained. “Come on, Y/N. This is fuckin insanity.”

“The only insane thing is you bothering to show up and crash my date. I think you made it perfectly clear that you wanted me to leave you alone the last time we spoke. You made your thoughts on me and how pathetic I am perfectly crystal clear. Nothing has changed.” Y/N retorted groaning as she neared a dead end, it hitting her that her escape route was useless.

Chibs sighed, unable to stop himself from saying it. “Ye ain’t pathetic. Yer date didn’t look like it was goin so well. A fuckin cop, Love? Really?”

She scoffed at the comment she turning to glare at him, the words falling from her lips, unable to stop herself from taunting him. “Remember we come from two different worlds. In my world I can date a cop and you can’t do a damn thing about it.”

He stepped closer to her his eyes growing dark as he stared down at her. “Aye, maybe so. Ye didn’t look like ye were havin much fun with him though, Lass. Ye looked fuckin miserable all night.”

She glared up at him, deciding to push his buttons all the more, lying through her teeth her words far more vulgar than she’d ever dare them to be in any other conversation. “Oh I’ve had plenty of fun with him, Chibs. You did say I was a good fuck. I thought I’d test the theory with him. I might be desperate and pathetic, but you know how good I feel wrapped around a cock. Maybe I thought I’d try his dick out, see how good I could feel.”

The words made his eyes grow all the darker. He stepped even closer to her his voice picking up a possessive tone. “We both know he can’t fuck ye as good as I can, Love. We both know I could do ye so well ye couldn’t walk the next day. Ye seem to be walkin jus fine righ now which tells me he’s nowhere as good as me.”

Her eyes narrowed, she shoving back the lust creeping up in her at the reminder of just how good Chibs Telford had been in bed. “You lost the right to fuck me the second you broke my heart”.

She paused, stepping back closer to the wall, her words harsh, the pain evident in her voice she clenching her fists refusing to cry in front of him. “You don’t love me, remember? So, why the hell are you even here?”

He cringed at the statement a sense of something she did not expect to see in his eyes washing over him; shame, regret.

He sighed the words leaving him. “I made a mistake.”

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, she sounded as emotionally drained as she felt. “You can’t just show up like this, Filip. You can’t throw me away and then get mad because some other guy wanted me. I’m not something you can just drop and pick back up at your convenience. I can’t deal with the emotional whiplash. I deserve better than someone who only wants me when someone else shows interest.”

“It ain’ like that. I ain’ jus showin up because some prick wanted ye. I won’t lie and say that Bobby mentionin ye had a date didn’t push me to get off my arse and stop bein so stubborn. This ain’ about me wantin ye only cause someone else does. I never stopped wantin ye.” Chibs struggled the explain the comment, his words only confusing her further.

“You didn’t act like you wanted me very much the last time we spoke. You told me I was the only one taking anything between us seriously.” She pointed out the hurt evident in her voice.

Chibs cringed at the comment, reaching up to run a hand through his hair, a sigh leaving his lips. “I didn’t mean any of it…I thought I was protectin ye.”

“From what?” She exclaimed, annoyance joining her confusion.

He sighed, shaking his head. “From me, Love. I know we never said the words…never acknowledged the truth…I never said out loud jus what I am…what SAMCRO is. I knew ye were smart enough to figure it out…that I’m an outlaw. I’m a criminal and yer innocent.”

She parted her lips wanting to snap that she was not that innocent. She didn’t have the chance though as Chibs spoke again. “I have seen ol ladies come and go in this club. I never took an ol lady before ye…Even after I divorced Fiona…I figured I’d not find anyone I wanted to spend my life with…I watched my brother’s and their ol ladies though…I’ve seen em be treated like shite by my brothers. I’ve seen men treat the women they claim to love like dog shite.”

“You never treated me like that…I mean aside from how you dumped me, that was kind of shitty.” She remarked, her voice soft.

Chibs nodded his head, a heavy sigh leaving him. “Aye that may be true. It wasn’t jus kinda shite love, I was a piece of shite.”

He paused, forcing himself to say the words he should have said to her from the start. “The violence that the life I’ve chosen requires…I never wanted ye to experience it. The role I’ve taken in the club..Sgt at Arms..it requires a certain level of violence…violence I’m perfectly capable of…it’s a side of me I never wanted ye to know existed in me…the life I’ve chosen to live chews ye up and spits ye back out. I’ve seen it break more people than I care to admit…and I’ve lost more than a few people in my life. I got in my head thinkin bout ye, thinkin bout how much I love ye…how pure bein in love with ye feels. Told myself the life I chose to live would jus taint that purity, that the world that comes with me would break ye. I couldn’t let it happen. I love ye, and I’d rather let ye go than lose ye or make ye think I’m a monster.”

“So, you just broke my heart instead of telling me how you felt? That was the plan?” She snapped, absorbing the words rolling them around in her head soaking them in.

He loved her.

She knew of course just what he was…she was not stupid. She didn’t buy the whole innocent motorcycle enthusiast lie SAMCRO loved to spin. She had spotted the occasional signs that Chibs’ day to day life consisted of more than just being a mechanic at TM Auto. He carried a burner cell and weapons for heaven's sake. Those were pretty big red flags if there ever were any. 

The red flags had never pushed her from Chibs. He’d seemed so sweet and had been a perfect gentleman to her. She’d told herself that anyone who could treat her with such adoration could not be a danger to her. She’d ignored any sense of self preservation that told her he was dangerous and had followed her heart with him.

She also heard the whispers around town. Charming’s local populace seemed to be well aware that SAMCRO was up to no good. They seemed to tolerate the club as a necessary evil of sorts.

She’d told herself that the men she’d gotten to know, who so often frequented her bakery, were not a threat to her.  

Chibs sighed nodding his head wordlessly as Y/N spoke the words leaving her. “You’re an idiot, Filip.”

He felt a small smirk cross his features at the comment. “Aye, been called worse.”

He sighed the smirk dropping from his lips the words sounding certain as they left him. “I fucked up, Love. I thought I was doin the righ thing…lettin ye go. It fuckin hurts though. I miss ye. My heart misses ye. This past month has been miserable without ye. When I found out some fuckin cop was takin ye out on a date, I bout lost my mind. I came out here tonigh to…I don’t know…see ye from afar, maybe work up my nerve to crash yer date…try to win ye back. I figured if I got here and ye seemed happy, then I’d let ye go…but ye don’t seem happy. I don’t think either of us are happy apart, Love.”

She sighed resting against the brick wall of the building behind her the words leaving her. “I don’t know what to do with this, Filip. I mean it. I can’t deal with the emotional whiplash. This past month has sucked. I’m not happy apart from you…I’m afraid of letting you back in though. How do I know you aren’t just going to drop me the next time you get too lost in your head? I know what you are, Filip. I’m not an idiot. I care about you enough to learn to accept that side of you…I’ve been accepting thus far…I’m so hesitant to learn to trust you again though… I can’t listen to you tell me you don’t love me again. I can’t let you break my heart in some hairbrained attempt to protect me again.”

He let out a sigh of his own, his heart sinking, fearing that it was too little too late. Perhaps he’d ruined the one good thing he seemed to have going for him.

He swallowed the lump in his throat knowing he had to try to fix this. He was going to try as hard as he could. “I know I really fucked up, Lass. I swear to God though that I will spend the rest of my life tryin to make up fer how much I hurt ye. I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but I’m beggin fer ye to give me a chance. I will do whatever it takes to get ye to let me back in. I’ll work fer it day and night if that���s what it takes. Yer the best thing I got in my life…the purest, I aint known many pure things in my life. Bein with ye made me feel like I migh jus be a good man even with all the shite I’ve done and all the pain I’ve caused fer the club…Bein without ye, it’s been hell fer me. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, and I can’t focus. I’ve been a grouchy fuck, accordin to Bobby at least.  I fuckin broke yer heart and my own in the process. I want to fix it, Love. I want to fix our hearts if yer willin to give me the chance. Jus give me the chance to put our hearts back together. Let me try.”

She felt her throat grow tight at this, her eyes growing damp, Chibs fearing she was about to tell him that there was no chance for them. His fears died as she spoke, her voice weepy. “Oh, Filip.”

She reached for him, her hand pressing to his cheek he leaning into her touch as she spoke. “I don’t want to feel this miserable ever again. Please, don’t make me feel that awful ever again.”

“Never, Love.” He reassured her his hands reaching out to press to her sides, thankful that she did not yank away from him as he pulled her into an embrace.

He leaned down his lips sliding across her, the kiss starting out slow and sweet, almost as hesitant as their very first kiss.

The kiss quickly grew deep and impassioned the realization of just how much they’d longed for one another growing apparent. 

She slid a hand down his body resting it against his denim clad cock massaging it as it began to perk up the lower region of his body very aware of just how much he’d longed for her. He groaned, pulling from the kiss his words thick with need. “Fuck, Love. Yer playin with fire here.”

She smirked at him, the words spilling from her. “I don’t mind fire.”

He moaned his hips rocking against her on their own accord eager to chance even the slightest hint of stimulation from the woman he’d feared he would never have a chance to have ever again.

He spoke that jealous little voice, unable to stop itself from working the words from him. “I have to know, Love. Did ye really fuck that cop bastard?”

She sighed, deciding that lying to him would just be cruel. She pulled her hand from his crotch ignoring the low whine that left him. “No, Filip. The last guy I slept with is you.”

He nodded his head frantically, a sense of relief washing over him. “Aye, okay…even still...”

He paused for a moment finding the words unable to stop himself from still feeling possessive of her. “I’m going to fuck ye so hard yer going to forget that guys name”

She felt a wave of lust wash over her that she knew Chibs was only capable of dragging from her. “Please.”

His lips met hers, the kiss somewhat harsh that possessive voice in the back of his head insisting that he had to claim her right here right now. She was his and she needed to be reminded of it.

His lips left hers pressing down her neck nipping at her skin roughly sucking against any marks his teeth may have left behind ensuring she’d have plenty of love bites to remind her of who she belonged to. 

His hands roamed her body she practically melting against him doing all she could to run her hands across his back caressing him over the leather of his kutte.

He ran his hands up her body yanking the front of her dress down so hard he was amazed it didn’t rip the fabric. His lips pressed down her chest nipping at the delicate skin along her cleavage wanting to leave his mark there as well.

She moaned, her head falling back, his name leaving her lips. He groaned against her his words muffled against her skin. “Aye that’s right, Love. Say my name, let everyone know jus who ye belong to.”

He yanked her bra down her breasts spilling from the cups, his lips locking down over a breast suckling harshly a whine leaving her.

He ran a hand up her dress along her hip caressing her skin as his lips focused on her breasts nipping at the skin and taking her nipples between his lips suckling eagerly.

She whined as he wasted no time to slide a hand along the lace of her panties, a groan leaving him the noise vibrating against her breast as he continued to suckle.

His hand slid eagerly under the waistband of her panties, his fingers finding her slit. He grunted rubbing her for a moment before allowing his fingers to slide between her damp center. He thrust his fingers in her stroking her walls, her knees practically buckling.

He spoke pulling from her breasts his voice sounding almost awestruck. “Yer so fuckin beautiful, so fuckin wet fer me. Just grippin down on my fingers pullin me in. This pussy missed me, aye?”

She nodded her head wordlessly a whine leaving her his fingers stopping a frustrated noise leaving her. He spoke his voice demanding. “Tell me, Love.”

“I missed you so much, Filip.” She admitted the words so needy and so true. 

He groaned, rewarding her with a thrust of his fingers curling them just right to hit a part of her that made her tremble against him. “Good girl. That’s my lass. Drippin down my fingers takin em so well.”

She moaned, not caring who might just hear her. She was sure a marching band could make their way down the alley at the moment and she would not give a damn as good as she felt at the moment.

His fingers slid across her clit, the action making her knees grow all the wobbly, her fingers digging into the leather of his kutte a high pitched whine leaving her. “Fuck.”

He smirked, rubbing circular patterned into the sensitive bud, the action making a few more curses leave her lips. 

He balanced stimulation to her clit with the thrust of his fingers into her core, the action making her feel dizzy. The only thing she could focus on was rocking her hips to chase the stimulation he provided. 

He spoke a teasing tone to his voice. “Christ, look at ye, Love. Riding my fingers, so needy fer me. Ye love this don’t ye? Me fingerin ye in the alley where anyone might see us.”

She whined nodding her head knowing this was the most risky thing she’d ever done in her life and she found it thrilling.

She knew she’d realistically be mortified if anyone walked upon this, but the risk of it all made her wetter than she was sure she’d ever been in her entire life.

He spoke, pushing her all the more. “Imagine if yer fuckin date walked up on this aye? Saw ye riding my fingers moanin fer me like a whore. Fuckin seein I’m the only one who can make ye feel this good by my fingers alone.”

“You make me feel so fucking good, Filip. No one else feels this good.” She whined the statement, working a moan from him, his lips pressing to hers in a deep bruising kiss.

She continued to ride his fingers eager to chase a release.

He encouraged her his voice demanding as he pulled from the kiss. “Play with yer clit, Love. Touch that pussy while you ride my fingers.”

She moaned, pressing her fingers to his lips, he taking them between his lips sucking them wetting them for her.

She pulled her hand from his lips reaching down as he demanded toying with her clit, the task not easy with the fuss of working around the skirt of her dress and her panties.

She rubbed circles into her clit frantically trying to increase the pleasure she felt.

She whined the heat beginning to pool in her abdomen, a coil tightening within her proving that she was so incredibly close to falling over the edge.

She spoke the words needy. “Going to cum.”

“That’s my love. Want ye to fuckin cum. Cum on my fingers, sweetheart. Let go fer me.” He encouraged her his eyes unable to leave her as she neared her release, her skin flushed, her lips parted, her head fallen back, her chest heaving. 

She was unable to stop the high pitched moan from leaving her as she let go her thighs shaking her center clenching and unclenching around his fingers.

He continued to finger her throughout the orgasm he moaning his cock throbbing desperate to be within her his manhood feeling envious of his fingers.

She whined as she came down from her orgasm, his touch becoming too much all too quickly. She slumped against him as he pulled his fingers from her.

She kept a tight grip on him almos sure she’d collapse to the ground if he was not holding her up.

She moaned as he pulled his fingers up to his lips, sucking them, cleaning her taste from them, a satisfied groan leaving his lips.

 He pulled his fingers from his lips pressing his lips to hers sharing her taste with her. She moaned against the kiss his hand roaming her body as she recovered from the intensity of her orgasm.

He pulled from the kiss his words needy. “Want ye so bad, Love. Let me fuck ye.”

She whined nodding her head the words that left her just as full of need. “Please, Filip. Need you so much.”

He groaned, reaching down and unfastening his belt with skilled hands. He unzipped his jeans unbuttoning them. He yanked his boxers down just enough to pull his hard cock from the confines of the fabric.

She moaned, reaching between them her hand wrapping around his cock he grunting at the touch. Her thumb ran along his slit spreading the precum leaking from him, he moaning at the action.

He spoke resisting the urge to thrust against her hand though the temptation to spit in her hand and demand she jerk him off a tempting one. "Shite, m'love."

He could picture cumming from her touch spilling his release against her hand, maybe even letting a little of it land on her sweet little dress. He smirked at the thought a possessive voice in the back of his head exclaiming that he’d mark her so clearly making it obvious she was all his.

He spoke his voice demanding as he reluctantly pulled from her touch. “Get rid of those panties, Love. Give me room to fuck ye.”

She did was she was told, reaching down to place her fingers under the waistband of her panties, sliding them down her legs letting them land against the concrete below them not caring what happened to them as long as it meant having his perfect cock buried in her.

He groaned, taking himself in hand, sliding it along her wet pussy, the words leaving him. “Gonna fuck ye so good, Love. Gonna ruin ye for any other man.”

“Already have.” She whined the words so honest. 

She knew her heart was his. She was trusting him to take care of her and make this right with her.

He groaned the words spilling from him. “Fuckin ruined me too, Sweet Lass. Ye belong with me. Yer all I fuckin want, forever.”

He moved his hands to her thighs encouraging her to wrap her legs around his hips allowing him to press her against the wall for support.

She wrapped her arms around him clutching on to him desperately trusting him to keep her held upwards. She spoke the words needy. “I’m addicted to you. You’re mine.”

He spoke positioning his cock at the entrance the words possessive. “Yer fuckin mine too. My ol lady, only mine, till the breath leave my body.”

She didn’t have a chance to respond as he slid himself home entering her inch by inch hissing at the sensation of her velvety soaking walls enveloping his cock. 

He spoke his words low and full of praise. “Perfect fuckin pussy. Belongs wrapped round me, only me.”

“Only you.” She moaned agreeing her head falling back as he began to rock against her his hips jerking against her desperately proving he was intent on fucking her.

His hips rocked against her frantically pushing her back up against the wall, his hand reaching up to press to the back of her head not wanting to slam her head into the rough brick wall behind them.

She whined clutching on to him all the tighter, letting herself sink into the sensation of him. Her lips pressed to his trying her best to muffle her moans.

He moaned against her lips the sensation of her wrapped around him so heavenly. He knew no one had ever felt so incredible wrapped around him.

He may have taunted her commenting that he was capable of fucking her so hard that she couldn’t walk the next day, but it was the truth. He knew she was so capable of taking all he had to give her.

She thrived equally on the rougher encounters they had as well as the softer slow love making sessions. Each time he had the privilege of taking her he was reminded of how lucky he was.

He had not been lying. She had ruined him for other women. 

He was hopelessly devoted to her. She took him so perfectly and she loved him so deeply. She loved him for all he was, even his imperfections. She saw the good in him that others disregarded.

She was his saving grace at the end of the day. He knew he could protect her. He could make sure she could remain his sweet loving ol lady who made him shortbread and slept peacefully by his side at night trusting him to care for her.

He kept thrusting in her his hips not losing speed knowing he was desperate not only to chase his release but to help her reach hers as well. 

He spoke his voice low and filled with adoration. “Look at ye, fuckin cock drunk on me. Can’t think bout nothin but how good I feel.”

She whimpered, nodding her head the words struggling to leave her lips. “Feels so good, Filip.”

He spoke a moan of approval leaving him. “Feels perfect, Love. Takin my cock so well. Shite, I love ye.”

“Love you.” She responded, her fingers digging into his back as he continued to take her against the wall.

She whined, able to hear the sounds of cars passing by only feet away.  The alleyway was dark enough out and there were no lights nearby to reveal that she was being fucked in such a public place.

This felt so filthy but so perfect. This was so dangerous, just as dangerous as him, and she loved it. She loved how risky this felt. She loved the man desperately fucking her making her center ache around him dripping against his cock. 

She knew he was the only man on this entire planet who could make her feel this good and the only man she would trust to take her in such a vulnerable place.

He would protect her; she knew this. She trusted him to take care of her and keep her safe. He would prove to her that he was devoted to her and would cherish her heart just as dearly as she cherished his.

He moaned the words leaving his lips. ‘Gonna take ye slower the second I get ye home. Gonna take ye so many times tonight, Lovely girl. Gonna remind ye that this pussy belongs to me.”

She whined, nodding her head frantically. “Missed you so much, Filip.”

He groaned, nodding his head. “Aye, missed ye, Love. Never goin to make ye miss me again. Never gonna fuck this up ever again, Love. Gonna keep ye by my side as long yer willin to have me.”

“Want you forever.” She whined the words so certain, making his heart ache with absolute adoration.

“Aye, forever.” He worked out his eyes locked on her, she by far the most stunning woman he’d ever seen and ever had the privilege of loving. 

She moaned, her hand pulling from his back sliding down her body finding her slick clit. He moaned realizing what she was doing as she began to rub at the bud of nerves so eagerly. “Such a good lass. Touchin that pussy fer me. Jeysus, Love. Play with yer wee clit make yerself cum on this cock.”

She whimpered his words encouraging her, she wanting to make herself cum for him. She wanted him to know how good he made her feel. She wanted him to know he was the only man capable of making her feel so good. 

He spoke becoming lost in lust, the words falling from him, his balls aching knowing he was closer than he’d prefer to be. “Fuckin cum on my cock and let me cum in ye. Fuck, make yerself cum. Wanna fill ye up so bad. Want my cum to drip from ye. Gonna fuckin put yer panties back on ye, not clean ye up even. Want ye to know I’m claimin what’s mine. Gonna be our wee secret, Gonna take ye home on my bike with my cum leakin from ye.”

She moaned at the statement knowing he was truly the only man who could say such absolute filth to her without her feeling bashful. If anything the dirty talk just egged her on.

She’d not had too many partners prior to him but he was by far the best she’d ever had. 

She rubbed her clit knowing just how to touch herself to help her along the path to a release. She’d had more experience in getting herself off before meeting Chibs Telford.

She’d discovered that with Chibs around she rarely had to rely on getting herself off. He was always eager to make her feel incredible even when he was exhausted.

She felt her toes curl at the sensations building up in her, she knowing it wouldn’t be much longer now.  She could feel her orgasm building in her, the fire spreading through her knowing it would burn so hot for him. 

She trembled against him, her thighs growing tense, her body jerking against him. Her fingers did not let up on her clit, her center clenching around his cock eagerly attempting to milk his release from him as she fell over the edge.

She pressed her lips against his a cry leaving her lips as she came.

He moaned the feel of her fluttering around his cock absolute perfection. It did not take long for his own end to sneak up on him, his balls drawing up close to his body, his cock throbbing.

He spilled into her as he fell over the edge, his words spilling against her lips, his accent growing so thick she could not even make out the words. “Fuckin take it, Love. Yer mine.”

She whined the warmth of his release filling her in hot spurts making her shudder against him. She clung on to him, her body feeling weak and so incredibly satisfied. 

He moaned the last of his release, desperately spilling from him into her his own knees feeling wobbly.

He pressed her further into the wall knowing he felt shaky enough that he feared not being able to hold her up as well as he should.

He pressed lazy kisses to her lips a low moan leaving him as he softened enough to slide from her body a shudder leaving him as the cold air hit his spent cock.

He spoke a drowsy giggle leaving him. “Christ, Love. Thank God fer the pill.”

She felt her own giggle leave her, she shaking her head. “Beats the hell out of condoms.” 

He smirked knowing she was the first woman he’d been with in a long while where condoms weren’t an absolute necessity. 

His experiences prior to her had consisted of croweaters who he was so not going into fucking without a rubber. 

He’d made it quite clear to her though that he only had eyes for her and he had a clean bill of health. So the pill had become their main form of contraception until the day they decided they might want to bring a few tiny Telfords into the world.

It was a possibility they’d discussed, and Chibs had been shocked to find that he didn’t mind the idea of possibly giving her a child at some point in the future even if it worried him to know he’d most likely be an older parent.

The idea of her having his child did fill him with an undeniable sense of pride though. 

She lowered her thighs from his hips he continuing to hold her up her knees feeling like jello at the moment.

She rolled her eyes not missing the proud smirk on his lips at the realization that he’d made her so unsteady on her feet especially in heels.

He tucked himself back into his boxers hastily zipping his jeans back up and refastening his belt.

He pressed his lips to hers lowering her dress back down the words leaving him. “Never goin to risk losin ye again, m’love. Need ye in my life. Never fuckin this up ever again. I love ye.”

She placed a hand on his cheek, her lips pressing to his, the words spilling from her. “I love you too, never letting you take the risk of losing me again. You can’t get rid of me, Filip. I’m yours.”

He nodded his head, a sense of comfort washing over him any fears he’d had of tainting her or destroying her seeming way too far away to grasp. “I’m yours. Ye ain’ gettin rid of me either.”

She closed her eyes as he held her against him, rocking her against him soaking up the comfort of belonging to one another.

Her heart once again felt full.

She knew they would not part again. He was hers just as much as she was his.

She would never lose him ever again.

[curiositydooropened]

Halloween • A Ranged Special

A woman dies of mysterious circumstances and you and your partner are called to a tiny Midwest town on Halloween.

Pairing: special agent!Steve Harrington x special agent!Reader

Wordcount: 3759

Warnings: This is a special based on this fic.*This blurb contains canon typical violence, including violence toward both main characters, mentions of suicide, all characters in peril, jump scares, zombies, etc. Please read at your own discretion.

This blog is 18+ only. I do not give permission for any of my fics to be duplicated, reposted, or put into AI. Thank you!

Navigation • Masterlist

---

Moodboard • Episode 00: Prologue

A paper Dracula hung in the doorway, spinning on fishing line that was paper clipped into ceiling tiles. Crepe streamers dangled from its cape. 

A friendly little bell chimed your entrance, and although you’d managed to duck beneath the streamers, Steve walked directly into it like a moonlit spider’s web, and with a grunt, he batted it from the ceiling and into the ficus pot nearby.

“Steve,” you scolded, trying to muffle your laughter between your molars at the look of disdain etched in his brow.

“I hate Halloween,” he punched the vampire’s face into the soil for good measure before following you through the vestibule and to the open lobby of the little 24-hour diner. 

Cakes and pies with glistening tops rotated in a spinner to the left of the till. Bats and ghosts were hung from a coat rack and more ceiling tiles.

You waited near a hostess stand for a young woman to arrive, watching with baited breath as she gave your partner the ole up-down and lash-bat before ushering you off to your table.

He ordered two coffees and handed you an oversized vinyl menu, flicking a bat-shaped sequin from the tabletop.

“You’re such a Scrooge.” You chided, peering over stock-images of pancake stacks and sausage links.

“That’s Christmas and bah-humbug,” he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair.

You glanced at him over your menu, hair perfectly coifed, bruise from last week’s scuffle yellowing at his jaw. “You not eating?”

He shrugged and glanced around the room.

You followed his gaze to a couple of truck drivers hunched over cups of coffee. Three old men shared a table in the back corner, laughing heartily with food in their beards. A mother was cutting up her pancakes for a little girl in face paint and cat ears. Your shoulders relaxed when Steve’s did. Safe.

The waitress returned with two steaming cups of coffee, staring directly into Steve’s eyes as she took your order, dark curls flowing from a hair tie at the back of her neck. “Are you really a secret agent, or is this a costume?”

Steve leaned forward in his chair, reaching into the inner pocket of his trench coat. “Wanna see my badge?” 

You slid the menu between their line of sight, and Steve cocked a brow your direction, the slightest smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“The sheriff is supposed to be here any minute,” you informed him when she walked away, peeling the lid from a creamer container to stir into your cup. Anything to distract from the heat in your face and neck.

“Henderson says hi, by the way,” Steve said, coffee mug in both hands, pink lips bowing to blow the steam from the surface.

“Huh?” You began to shuffle off your trench coat.

“Dustin Henderson, the friend of mine you met a few months ago. I was with him when Owens called about this case. He wanted me to tell you hi.” Steve explained, taking soft sips of his coffee.

You smiled, remembering the young man with the curly hair and delightful penchant for spy-craft. “Tell him ‘hi’ back.”

“Boo!” A man appeared from around the corner, nearly startled the coffee from Steve’s mouth. You recognized the Sheriff’s uniform, but did find yourself a little unnerved by the hyper-realistic zombie makeup and gashes the man had tacky glued to his face. “Or should I say ‘braaaaains’?”

Steve’s hand went to the handle of his weapon under his jacket, and you pushed your chair back to stand and greet you brunch guest. 

“You must be Sheriff Bouchart,” you introduced yourself and Steve with an extended hand.

“Oh please, call me Tim,” he cackled and ushered you back to your seat while he pulled up a chair from a nearby table and sat in it the wrong-way-around. “I just love Halloween. Don’t you just love Halloween?”

You bit back a smile as you watched Steve squirm in his seat and hummed your agreement. You’d helped Sadie decorate their front porch the night before, fresh carved jack-o-lanterns and corn stalks. Jeff was going to dress as a scarecrow and sit limply on a bench with a bowl of candy in his lap, waiting to scare passersby. You ached a little at the thought.

“So, what can I do you for, Agents?”

You looked from the Sheriff to Steve and back. “We’re here about the… murder.”

“Murder?” The Sheriff frowned.

You nodded and pulled a small notebook from your jacket pocket. “Cheryl Leahy?”

Tim shook his head, the bright smile falling from his bloodied face. “Oh that, tragic thing, really, but coroner agrees it was a suicide.”

“She made an emergency phone call about a monster with rows and rows of teeth,” Steve said, arms crossed and brow furrowed.

“She did,” Tim nodded.

“And you found her with several puncture wounds the size of small bite marks?” You tried to confirm.

Tim nodded. “So we thought, but upon further selection, we noticed it was glass. Poor woman threw herself out the front window of her home.”

Steve shot you a perturbed look, fingernails tapping the ceramic mug in front of him.

“Any sign of a break-in? Maybe she could have been pushed?” You asked.

“Nope. Doors were unlocked, but this is the Midwest, no one locks their doors. They weren’t any signs of a struggle either, other than the broken window,” Tim clarified, thanking the waitress with a hand on her arm as she dropped off another cup of coffee and your pancake stack. Then he reached across the table to pull out four sugar packets and unload them into his drink.

Steve looked like he might be sick.

“Listen, kids,” Tim picked up the spoon from your napkin and began to stir his drink. “Cheryl Leahy, God rest her soul, was a troubled woman. She’d gone a bit off the deep end in the last couple of months, and this wasn’t exactly a surprise.”

“What do you mean?” Steve pulled his coffee from the table, as though the sweetener might jump into his own cup. 

“I mean, she left her husband, quit her job, became a hermit.”

“Does anyone know why?” You asked, taking a bite of delicious, buttery pancake.

Tim shrugged, leaned in to offer the next bit of information just above a whisper. “Rumor has it she was seeing a woman.”

“Have you looked into this woman?” Steve asked.

Tim shook his head. “We couldn’t find any proof of an affair or even of another woman. You know how the rumor mills work in these small towns. I think the ladies at the credit union just needed something to talk about at the water cooler.” He turned to offer you a wink.

You faked a smile.

Steve’s fist clenched on the tabletop. “Well, we’re going to need access to the crime scene.”

Tim sipped his coffee and smacked his lips, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “No can do, buddy. Crime scene’s cleared. New window’s being installed today. Like I said, it’s been ruled as a suicide. Nothing to see there.”

“We understand,” you said, mouthful of sticky sweet pancake to cut Steve off before he said anything rash. You swallowed. “Unfortunately, we have to report something to our boss. I’m sure you understand.”

“Sure, sure,” Tim nodded. “You’re more than welcome to canvas her neighbors. See if maybe they saw something? Other than the poor lady’s body in her driveway.”

—

Mist crawled from the lake’s surface and swirled at your feet. Lamplight cast you both in long silhouettes as you walked, heads disappearing into the fog. 

You stifled a yawn with your hand. 

“Knew I should’ve stopped you from eating those pancakes,” Steve tutted, kicking dead leaves from the toes of his shoes.

You’d spent the day canvasing. You left Steve at the stoop and walked door-to-door after the first homeowner nearly got decked in the face for wearing a Freddy Krueger mask and holding a candy bucket. Nobody knew anything about Cheryl Leahy, nor had they seen or heard anything unusual the night of her death.

“Why did Owens send us here?” You groaned, pawing at tired eyes. Your shoulders and feet felt heavy, each step a slog. 

A blood-curdling scream was better than a cup of coffee.

Steve took off first, the clack of his soles against pavement before he was up a lawn, reaching into his trench coat. You were hot on his tail, heart pumping.

Your partner stopped short, and you nearly barreled into his broad back until you peered around him to see a bunch of kids cackling, pretending to stab one another with a plastic knife. They were dressed as various cartoon characters and carried empty pillow cases and pumpkin-shaped-buckets.

With a snort, you grabbed Steve’s shoulder and led him back down the hill and to the paved path.

“I hate Halloween,” he repeated his sentiment from earlier through gritted teeth.

“Why?” You smiled, kicking at the fog as you stepped.

“Because,” Steve said, that frown burrowing itself between his brows, “there are real monsters in this world they should be afraid of.”

“Have you ever had fun?” You asked behind a yawn, laughing when his eyes snapped to yours. “Even once in your life?”

“I have fun,” he argued.

“Shooting monsters in the face doesn’t count,” you countered.

“Believe me, that is not fun,” he sighed.

You tried not to let the sadness sink in, choosing instead to barrel forward, back around the cul-de-sac where you’d parked your rental. “Alright then, what do you and Dustin do when you hang out?”

“That isn’t fun either,” he rolled his eyes.

“Okay, your… other friends then,” you ventured, hating the way your stomach sank at the thought of him having other company. You thought of Michelle from that party months ago, and wondered if he’d ever reached out.

Sadie hadn’t mentioned anything. She just kept pestering you about whether or not you’d tied him down: figuratively and literally.

Steve’s face fell in a way you hadn’t anticipated but recognized as a shut down of your line of questioning. He shook his head and looked far up the path into the mist. Robin.

You swallowed. You knew better than to push further, but you ached to slip your hand into his and tell him it was okay, that he was safe with you.

You felt his elbow bump into yours. “We should get you something to eat.”

You smiled up at him. “Don’t think I didn’t hear your stomach two houses ago, Harrington.”

You swatted at him to push him away, but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you in tighter, his trench coat and chest all-encompassing as a stampede of children skipped past you both, chanting.

“Trick-or-Treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat!”

His chest radiated warmth, and when you looked up, his throat and cheeks were pinched pink. You watched his mouth as his chest rose and fall beneath your palm, and his Adam’s apple bobbed in a swallow.

You felt his stomach growl before you heard it, and you bit back a smile as you patted his middle. “Let’s get you something good to eat.”

—

The same Dracula was restrung in the doorway, and the hostess’s sign had been flipped to have you seat yourself at the same table as that morning. Vinyl menus now displayed mashed potatoes and chicken club sandwiches. A car drove by, casting Steve in the headlights for a moment across the table, engrossed in his dinner selections.

You tried not to think of Sadie’s pesterings, or wonder what Steve would look like all face-painted up like a scarecrow, hair stuffed into a straw hat. 

The same waitress from earlier approached with a tongue pressed to her top row of teeth. “You’re back.”

Steve flashed you a daring smile and leaned back in his seat. “You didn’t get Halloween off?”

“Jehovah’s Witness,” she explained, tapping her pen cap to the pad in her hand. “I’m off at midnight, though.”

“I’ll have a cheeseburger,” you cleared your throat, folding your menu over Steve’s. “Fries and a coke.”

“That sounds great. I’ll have the same,” Steve flashed her a thousand-watt smile, handing over the menus. 

You hated the green monster that clawed at your insides.

“So what brings you to town, G-man?” The woman asked, idling with a nylon-covered knee a little too close to Steve’s.

“Did you ever spend anytime with Cheryl Leahy? Serve her here, maybe?” You asked, leaning across the table to catch her gaze.

Recognition flashed across the woman’s face, and she pursed her lips. “You mean the crazy lesbian lady from the credit union? Thought she killed herself.”

“She did,” Steve shot you a look. “Her family just wanted us to tick all the boxes.”

“Right,” the girl nodded slowly, glancing between the two of you before the smile slid back onto her lips. She tapped her pen cap twice to Steve’s knee and promised to be right back.

“They wouldn’t send us on a false lead, would they?” You asked when the waitress’s hips swung out of earshot.

Steve’s eyes widened, and he glanced around the empty diner before leaning into you. “Say that again.”

You swallowed, the ominous feeling you felt around house six settling back between your shoulders. “Well, it did sound like our thing, but it’s looking like maybe it’s not our thing, and I’m just wondering if this is,” you lowered your voice, “some sort of distraction.”

“Distraction from what?”

You shrugged, played with the sticky wrapper holding your silverware inside your napkin. “Les Joplin, George Humbolt, the Garcias.”

When you looked up, Steve’s face was inches from yours, eyes carefully watching every change in your expression. You hoped you could convey your worry, that you’d been thinking about this for the last few months, through every small town and every patch of rotting Earth.

“Two cokes,” your waitress interrupted, placing sticky sweet soda between you. The bubbles fizzed against their straw.

You thanked her and ignored the ripple of butterflies at the smile Steve gave her.

“The last three people we saved are still alive,” he said through his teeth, glancing back up at the waitress as she sauntered away.

You swallowed and nodded, stirring your drink before taking a sip. The bubbles tickled at your nostrils and it went down ice-cold.

“Think they’re onto us being onto them?”

You shrugged. “Could be.”

“Do you think I put Henderson in danger?”

You watched the panic fill his eyes. “Steve.”

The bell chimed and a gust of wind rolled in, sweeping leaves into the lobby. Pies and cakes continued to spin in your periphery.

Your shoulders felt heavy with burden, with the weight of the world, and your eyelids too. You reached a hand across to Steve, and he spoke your name like sound waves through a soupy atmosphere. 

“Who sent you?” The waitress appeared, large bottle in her hand, although even she was sideways, off-kilter. “Was it Brenner?”

You fell from your seat, heavier than gravity would allow, and you watched as the bats and Draculas began to spin, crepe paper circles blurring your vision until everything went black.

—

Your brain felt fuzzy inside your skull, your mouth was bone dry, and the light was too bright behind your eyelids. You scrambled to remember your whereabouts, squinting against the harsh glow, and as you slipped back into consciousness, you became painfully aware of the rope around your wrists and ankles.

You strained against them and pulled yourself from laying to seated to find yourself in the auditorium of an old theater. Paint peeled from decorative lighting around the expanse and down from this balcony to the lower level.

On the stage, a huge white projector screen showed the mist of a classic monster movie.

You called out for Steve, but your mouth had been tied too, cloth between your teeth in a gag.

You tugged on your restraints for just a moment of more panic before remembering your training. Deep breaths in and out. 

You observed your surroundings, looked for exits, on either side of the floor level, and then one across the mezzanine from where you sat. You laid back down to peer under the seats for any sign of your partner. 

A few chairs creaked near the exit, almost imperceptible, and you froze, closing your eyes, stilling your breathing like you might pass for being asleep. Then footsteps, the clack of soles against the steps.

You risked a peak to find Steve, who crouched across the aisle from you, finger to his lips.

You nodded and waited with bated breath until a familiar voice startled you. “Oh good. You’re awake. You think now you’re willing to talk?”

You stared at Steve, and he maintained his posture, reassuring you he had it covered if you just played along.

You looked back up at the waitress and nodded fervently.

The waitress barked a cold laugh and approached from the row behind Steve, uniform discarded for something less conspicuous. Her long curls had been released and now fell at her shoulders. “Or maybe I ought to play with you a little bit more.”

She snapped her fingers and Steve stood from his crouch.

You cursed under your breath. Of course she was enhanced.

Feeling the ground around you for a loose screw, you used your thumbnail to loosen it from its hold to use to begin to cut the ropes at your wrist.

Steve wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in close, bending to press his lips against hers. She moaned, tangling her fingers in his thick hair.

You tried your damndest to focus on the screw until they began to move, slowly backing him to the balcony’s edge.

You cried out for him, but it was too late.

With one powerful shove, you watched your partner plummet to the auditorium floor. Scrambling to your knees to peer over the side, you saw his mangled remains, blood seeping down the incline toward the orchestra pit.

You screamed and ripped your wrists from their restraints.

Standing, you managed to swing your arms at her with the intention to push her over the side with him. Only, she wasn’t there, not really. You wafted through the air until you lost your balance, and you felt gravity cascading you up and over to meet your partner’s fate.

With a sharp tug, your arm was ripped from it’s socket.

“I’ve got you,” Steve said, gripping your wrist, teeth grit.

You glanced to the floor to find it empty, nothing but air beneath your dangling feet.

On the giant screen behind you, a monster’s silhouette was framed in shadow, tens of feet high.

“Give me your hand,” Steve yelled.

With a cry of agony, you swung your other hand to grasp his and allow him to hoist you upward.

Safely back on the mezzanine, Steve made to quickly untie your bonds, large hand replacing the gag on your cheek. “Are you alright?”

His voice was hoarse, blood caked the side of his temple.

You swallowed, nodded. “Are you?”

He shrugged and looked around for any sign of her. “I think she’s enhanced.”

“She can make you see things,” you confirmed.

“Great,” he sighed, hand brushing your hair from your cheek, warm and comforting. You knew she couldn’t manufacture this, not the care or the devotion. “Can you walk?”

“My legs are fine,” you stated, gritting your teeth through the sting in your shoulder.

Steve shook his head. “I’ll put it back in the car. Stay close to me.” He grabbed your hand to assist you in standing, and didn’t release it as you made your way up the balcony aisle and through the exit doors.

—

Flashes illuminating the mist and trees surrounding the little theater. Blood that spilled from her wounds. She coughed and sputtered, face covered in shards of glass.

Tim Bouchart handed you the handcuffs from his belt, and you clipped them around her wrists to restrain her to the gurney, flesh and blood and bone.

“You sure you’re okay there, Agent?” Tim asked, face quite mundane without the zombie makeup.

“I’m fine,” you breathed through the ache. The emergency response team insisted on a hospital visit, but you’d rather not spend your Halloween night watching droves of other people in skeleton costumes puke up their dinner.

Steve finished giving the ambulance drivers their specific directions and shook Tim’s hand. “Sheriff, thank you for all your help. We’ll be in touch.”

“I’m sure you will,” Tim managed an exhausted smile before stumbling back into his cruiser. “Happy Halloween.”

You stifled a yawn behind your hand.

Steve scoffed beside you, cut on his head covered with a butterfly bandage.

You nodded. “I think I hate Halloween.”

—

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Dismissed,” Owens smiled, blue eyes sparkling. He clapped his hands together and held his office door open for you and Steve to exit.

In silence, you exited through his receptionist’s office and into the hallway, glancing both directions before making your way into the elevator. Steve whistled as he pressed the button for the lobby.

“Have any fun weekend plans?” He asked, ceasing his whistle.

You frowned back at him, small-talk so not his forte. “Going to Sadie’s to help with Thanksgiving plans,” you said. “You’re invited, by the way.”

He bristled at that, didn’t respond.

The elevator dinged, doors sliding open to reveal a large group of people waiting. The two of you shuffled around them and to the revolving glass door.

Crisp autumn air hit your face, and you sighed, watching leaves tumble down the sidewalk.

“So listen,” Steve stopped you with a hand to your forearm. “Henderson’s coming over tonight to watch movies. He wanted me to invite you.”

You pushed down anything that kicked in your stomach, tilted your face to catch the sunlight just over his head. “Do you want me there?”

He pursed his lips to avoid the smirk toying at the corner of them. “Not really. I know it’ll just be the two of you talking over the whole thing.”

You hummed. “Is that what you like to do for fun? Watch movies?”

He eyed you for a moment longer, weighing whether or not to tell you the truth, before he nodded. 

This time it was you disguising your smirk. “What movies are you watching tonight?”

“Halloween,” he said. This time, his lips split into a knee-weakening grin.

---

[A/N: In my mind, this entire chapter is in B&W. Like my two favorite episodes of Supernatural and X-Files. I missed you guys. Happy Halloween! xoxo]

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 17

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 10.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics, mentioning of pregnancy/babies, family planning, breeding kink* Cavity inducing fluff, mentions of guns and shooting, an unwelcome guest, physical attack, attempted manipulation/revelation of secrets, fingering, hand job, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, bath sex. Summary: Your bachelor/bachelorette surprise comes with a little more than anyone bargained for. Notes: There is just one more chapter left to this story and then an epilogue. Thank you so much to everyone who took this beautiful journey with us! We have loved Marcus and Birdie so much and it is incredibly bittersweet to be wrapping up their story.

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Ch 16

It’s 9:30 in the morning when Agent Bailey steps aside to let Sydney and Juan into your house. She has been fully apprised of the plans for the day and was even in on a little of the planning, but right how her job is to step aside and let the chaos begin.

“It’s early,” you complain teasingly, coffee in hand, when your best friends stroll into your kitchen with two garment bags and puckish grins on their faces. “And you didn’t even bring our goddaughter to love on?”

“No, she is spending the day with her grandmothers.” Neither grandmother could agree on who would watch her, so they had decided to both spend the day with little Constance. “She knows we have adult plans and she completely approves.” Sydney grins as she shrugs slightly.

“She approves because you left her with Nana and Abuela.” It’s a good strategy, you have to admit that, and you cross the kitchen to hug your best friend. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Today is your bachelor and bachelorette parties.” She smirks at the shock on your face. “That’s why your calendars were blocked out.” Juan chuckles. “And your team is aware that you are unavailable today. Unless the world is ending.” He tells Marcus.

“So our Matron of Honor and Best Man have come to kidnap us?” The slack surprise on your face turns into a shrug. You and Marcus are still in your bathrobes. “You’re gonna have to let us get dressed, guys.”

“Why don’t think we brought clothes?” She shakes the garment bags at you playfully. “Come on, we need to get you both ready, we are on a schedule.”

“I…guess I’ll see you later, then?” You look at Marcus and shrug, laughing at the sideways direction your morning has gone in. So much for catching a matinee.

Juan chuckles as he watches Marcus’s face fall at the thought of not spending today with you. “Cheer up.” He slaps him on the back. “You will like your party.”

Less than an hour later, Marcus and Juan have swept out the door without you getting a single glimpse at your groom, and Sydney has helped you into a pink and white gingham swing dress that looks like it came straight off of Unique Vintage, complete with petticoats and pearl earrings and pink low top Chucks to complete the look. “Are we going dancing all day?” You ask, twirling around in the middle of your bedroom to test how the petticoats move.

“Maybe.” She smirks, changing into her own outfit of black shorts and a t-shirt that is the exact same shade of pink as your dress. ‘Pink Ladies’ is written across the breasts in beautiful white calligraphy. “Maybe not

"Oh my God." You burst out laughing the second you see it. "Am I Sandra Dee?"

“Look at me, I’m Sandra Dee.” she starts to sing, twirling around you playfully.

You hiccup, giggling, and bundle your best friend up into a tight hug after another twirl. “I’m gonna spend all day thinking about Marcus in his leather jacket being the sweetest version of Danny Zuko ever.” Dirty thoughts, that’s what those thoughts are gonna be. “Should we get going?”

Her smile is secretive and she nods. “The rest of the Scooby gang are meeting us there.”

“Girls’ dayyyyyyy.” You sing song, following her out the door and smirking when you see Sydney’s Starbucks app already open on her phone. Coffee means it will be a lengthy drive and now you have absolutely no idea what they could possibly have planned. Well…you do love surprises.

The swing through the coffee chain drive-thru doesn’t take long and soon enough, you are hitting the highway to your destination, although she refuses to connect her phone to the car so you can see how far you have to go. “So, no texting Marcus.” She holds her hand out for your phone. “Juan’s already taken his.”

You crinkle your nose at her but hand your phone over, watching her drop it into her purse and zip the top back up. “That’s fair,” you concede, since you had taken her phone the same way for her bachelorette night out.

“I know it’s fair.” She cackles slightly. “Payback is a bitch, isn’t it?”

“Hey,” you point a finger at her, the others clutching your iced latte. “I told you what we were doing.”

“It would spoil the surprise if you knew.” She defends. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be on pins and needles, now would you?”

“I hate how well you know me.” It’s disingenuous when you huff, but you both grin knowingly.

“Hehehe.” She cackles again and takes a sip of her drink. “T minus ten days to marriage.” She reminds you, as if you don’t have a countdown going on your phone. “Are you ready?”

"More than ready." waiting a year had allowed you to plan a beautiful wedding. But now you're so close you can taste it. "If you're bringing me to a time machine, I'm ready."

“I don’t think you want to miss the last few days.” She jokes. “Even if you aren’t pining for freedom.” She reaches over and squeezes your hand, having deposited your phone into her purse. “I’ve never seen you so happy. Ever.”

“Can I tell you something without you crashing the car?” You ask, glancing over at her as she cuts a clear path down the highway.

“You can tell me anything, always”. She promises. It’s been a theme between the two of you since you first became friends and she doesn’t see that changing.

Since you’re grinning when you look over at her she has no reason to believe it’s bad, but you’re grinning so hard your face might split and tripping over your words. “We…we decided…we started trying for a baby.”

“What?” Her eyes widen and her head whips to the side, and stares at you in disbelief. “Wedding night?”

“We’ve already started,” you admit, knowing your expression is fully flustered and pleased as punch. “I just finished my period, so the first few weeks were unsuccessful.”

“Oh my god.” She has to look back at the road, but the excitement and shock is nearly overwhelming. “I get to be an auntie sooner?”

“Hopefully.” Her excitement has you cackling, and you snort behind your hand. “Just keep your fingers crossed that Marcus’s swimmers work fast.”

“That man has to have fast swimmers.” She snorts and slaps your thigh. “Knocked up in no time.”

“Like I said, fingers crossed.” Once the doctor has given you a clean bill of health, you and Marcus hadn’t wasted time — practically the whole rest of that day had been spent in bed. And much of the hours of each day since.

“I’m so damn excited for you.” She squeals. “Now I’m sad we decided to wait a year to go for the sibling.”

“Syd.” You poke your best friend in the leg as she drives. “It has been a year. If you want to try to be pregnant together, let’s do it.”

“It has!” Another squeal, this one in pure delight, has your ears ringing as Sydney slaps the steering wheel. “Let me talk to Juan! We are having babies together!”

The rest of the drive is endless, joyful chatter and singing along to music until Sydney pulls off the highway and around an odd intersection somewhere in the country of Virginia that puts you on a dirt road marked only with signs for a state fair ground that look fairly defunct. “Um…babe?” You glance back at her nervously. “Is my bachelorette surprise a serial killer?”

“Yes.” She deadpans the response perfectly, looking over at you with a straight face. “We will turn you loose in the woods and if you survive the night, you get to live!”

“I think there’s an episode of Criminal Minds like that,” you toss back, making both of you smirk and bust out in snorting laughter just as the car crests a hill. In the valley ahead of you is an entire carnival ground — and a giant Congratulations! banner over the entrance gate. A simple laugh between friends turns into gasping giggles almost instantly. “Oh holy shit, is that it?” You’re bouncing in your seat as she pulls down the hill toward the parking lot. “Are we going to the state fair? That’s the best!”

“No, this isn’t a state fair.” She doesn’t have to pull up in a parking lot of cars and instead, she’s pulling right up to the roped off gate. “This is your fair.” She tells you with a grin. “Come on.”

There are cars scattered around and as she pulls you out of the car with a gob smacked expression on your face, you slowly start to realize what lengths your friends and beloved siblings and family have been going to for the last year. There is music pouring through the speaker system overhead, the smell of carnival food is in the air, and you can even hear the click and swooshes and background clamor of rides and games. “What the hell?” Is all you can gasp as she pulls you through to the center of the entryway, and you’re instantly bombarded by your bridesmaids.

A scarf is pulled out of Junie’s pocket. “Happy Bachelorette party! Now you have to be blindfolded!” She shrieks happily as she throws her arms around you.

“Oh my god,” you groan playfully, but don’t move a muscle, allowing your sister to blindfold you and your friends to presumably either bring you into the fairgrounds or to release that serial killer that was mentioned earlier.

Every single one of the women are giggling and shuffling around you. Someone taking your shoulders and guiding you forward. “Are you ready?” Selena chuckles softly.

Given that you're practically dancing in place, you nod eagerly and hold your hands behind your back so you don't reach out and try to figure out if there's anything around you. "I'm ready, I'm ready. Show me!"

The musics soundtrack from Grease starts playing. Summer Lovin’ more specifically. They shuffle you forward until you are stopped in the perfect position. “Okay. You can take it off.”

Taking off the blindfold is a little bit of a task with whatever insane knot Junie put in it, but when you eventually pull it off you're face to face with your own fiancé — head to toe in black with his leather jacket and a pompadour in his hair as he carefully removes a blindfold of his own and a pair of noise cancelling headphones.

Marcus’s eyes widen when he sees you, sees your bridesmaids around you. “Sweetheart?” He gasps and everyone starts the shout. “Surprise!”

"Baby!" His confusion is met with your elation, and you both spring forward to hug each other. One look at him and a long glance around you at the fairgrounds and your bridal party...all of that combined with the music has you giggling all over again. "Did you guys..." You keep swiveling, taking in the details as you look around you. "Did you recreate the carnival from the end of Grease?"

“I told you she would get it.” Sydney crows and high fives Selena. “We figured that you would rather have a joint party and just have fun than try to do any of the normal stag party bullshit.” She wraps her arm around Marcus’s cousin’s waist. “Plus Lena spilled the beans that Markie also went through a Grease phase when he got his first motorcycle.”

"Did you..." Your eyes track back up to Marcus with your lip between your teeth and a smirk forming. "Did you guys ride your bikes here?" If so, tonight's baby making endeavors are going to be extra enthusiastic.

Juan smirks, knowing exactly where your mind is going. You and Sydney both find riding motorcycles incredibly sexy for some reason. “Of course he did.”

"I am very not upset about it." And you will absolutely be riding home with him. But there is a whole carnival to have before then. How they pulled this off is completely beyond you, but it's the most wonderful thing you've ever seen in your life.

“Come on!” Junie giggles and starts to hand out the cute little arm bands that had been printed up. It has your initials with Marcus’s and the date printed on it with the little emoji of a Ferris wheel. “The workers know to look for these bands in case there’s someone who wanders in.”

"You guys have thought of everything." The bracelets are going to go straight into the life milestone book that Junie gave you for your bridal shower as soon as you get home, but for now you admire it as Juan and Sydney lead the way into the center of the chaos.

There are all the trappings of a fair. Selena had managed to get in contact with the group that comes from town to town around the area and book them for tonight. Promising special social media spotlight and filming a detailed experience for them to advertise with. Because of that, the promise publicity and the fact they will open to the public for the week after your combined stag party, the price of the day had actually been reasonable. The only difference between the public’s fair and yours is all the personalized banners that have been strung around and the prized at the game booths.

“This is the most insane thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” And that is probably the biggest compliment you could ever give. That and the giggling laughter that is overflowing from you fairly constantly as you explore the carnival. But you’ve spotted the first ride you want to go on and your face splits into a grin when you turn to Marcus again. “Tea cups?”

“Anything you want.” The fact that he is spending his bachelor party with you makes him feel better. Knowing that this will be a party everyone can enjoy and not have to worry about things getting out of hand.

"As long as you're with me." That's all you want. All you've ever wanted, you realize now. The love of your life by your side and ready to live with you.

“Always.” He squeezes your hand, finding it easy to promise that. The fact that only your party is here allows for the entire wedding party to clamber into the oversized teacups of the ride.

Between your wedding party and your friends and a few cousins who came out to DC early, the ride is full up with your group and it turns into a massive session of hooting, hollering, heckling, and squealing as the whole group of you spin manically in the tea cups. Bumper cars are the same way — turning into an unsurprisingly competitive ride of who can knock into each other the most times — and there is no chance that the games don't turn into an equally competitive activity this afternoon.

“What’s next?” Instead of everyone going off to do their own thing, the group collective is possibly even more fun.

“The shooting gallery!” The agent training never really goes away and Juan proves that by the smug smirk on his face “My range scores were always higher, Pike.”

“Yes they were, baby.” Syd nods with blind faith in her heart for her husband to show his nerdy stripes in front of everyone. Of course Juan’s break is scores. Scores of any kind.

Marcus scoffs, taking up he gauntlet that was thrown down easily enough. “Yeah, but that was then. When was the last time you went to the range, papa dearest?” He teases, doing the very mature figure gesture towards one of his best friends and making the entire groom’s party howl with laughter.

“I guess we’re going to the shooting range,” you laugh, one arm hooked around Marcus’s waist and grinning madly. Whatever he wants to do, you’re in.

“Agent Bailey????” Juan’s eyes cut around to the agent who is sporting a casual look as well today. Her suit exchanged for tights and a push up bra with a bouffant hairstyle. The male secret service members also dressed the part with jeans and t-shirts with the sleeves rolled. Juan smirks. “Care to make a wager and join?”

“Well…” She surveys both men and smirks playfully. “I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of your wives.”

Marcus huffs and Juan snorts, neither one of them taking offense, but they pretend like they do. “Bring it on.” Marcus challenges.

Alex and Junie's agents get in on the bet as well, and the whole group troops over to the game stalls to get things to drink and razz the competitors as they line up. The employee who is running the game is immensely amused to have five federal agents in front of him and he introduces the game with all the pomp and circumstance it's due.

“One game to sight it in?” Marcus asks, looking around and shrugging when no one agrees. “Okay, we do this blind.”

“What are the stakes?” Selena interrupts, always ready and willing to tease Marcus and wanting to make this entertaining for everyone.

“A buck a shot?” Juan offers, willing and able to put money on what he thinks is a sure thing.

“Easy there, Badillo.” AnnaLeigh teases. As his sister-in-law it is her right. “Wouldn’t want to get crazy.”

He snorts and lifts a brow. “What do you suggest, sis?” He asks, cocking his head. “And are you getting in on the action?”

“I am purely a rabble-rousing spectator,” she assures him, batting her eyelashes. “But I’d say losers pitch in for a special something on the honeymoon, wouldn’t you?”

“Skinny dipping in Loch Ness?” Selena snorts out the suggestion and everyone giggles.

“I don’t think that costs money, Sel.” Leo points out with a smirk.

“But someone has to post bail when they get arrested.” She fires back with a grin of her own.

“That’s a fair point,” you concede, giggling through the insane idea that you would ever even go skinny dipping in the first place.

“Seriously though?” Junie pips up. “Maybe a night on the Isle of Mull?” She suggests. “You can actually stay at Glengorm Castle.”

“I’ll put money on that.” Agent Bailey has already prepared her own surprise for your honeymoon after coordinating with the innkeeper in Inverness, but she isn’t above extra spoiling. Having the First Daughter as a charge is a privilege and you’ve both become good friends to her.

“No, that’s too much.” Marcus insists, knowing that everyone must have spent a fortune on today. He would feel so guilty if something else was done. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Of course we don’t have to.” Leo and Clark step up together. “But since when do any of us say no to a little competition when the stakes are good?”

Sighing softly, Marcus shoots you a grin. “I guess I just have to win.” He tells you smugly with a wink.

“I have no doubt,” you assure him, making a big show of the kiss for good luck and getting a good hoot and holler out of your friends in the process.

“Now you have to kiss all of us.” Leo pouts, pointing at his cheek as Clark whips out his phone to snap a pic.

"Oh is that how this works?" It's just a bit of fun, so you don't care in the least, and Marcus just laughs, waving for everybody to line up so you can go right down the line giving cheek kisses while your sister films it on Leo's phone. "There. Now you all have luck and it's totally fair."

“Perfect.” Agent Bailey grins and motions all the participants up to the line where five rifles are lined up. “Let’s see who wins.”

Junie lines up to film this too, catching the cheers and laughter of the rest of the crowd as person after person takes their chance with the targets. Predictably, Agent Bailey is the best shot of most of the group, but Marcus and Juan are saved for last.

“Feels like old times, doesn’t it?” Marcus bumps Juan’s shoulder playfully and the other man scoffs.

“What? Me kicking your ass?” Juan jokes.

“Sure, sure.” Marcus rolls his eyes. “In your dreams, asshole.”

That part of the video when it goes up on Junie’s Instagram reels will be tagged #Besties4Life or something similarly teenage girl sounding, she thinks. But she makes sure to capture the end of the target shooting ruckus as Marcus shoots a perfect game and barely edges Juan out with one more perfect shot than his friend.

“So does this mean I pay for a night in the Isle of Mull?” Marcus crows, pumping his fist and grinning like an absolute idiot at winning a carnival game.

“If you’ll remember,” Clark snickers, amused to see his friend peacocking around like an overgrown Peter Pan. “It was losers chip in to pay.”

He snorts, swearing that they have changed the rules on him, but he doesn’t complain. Stepping towards you to claim a victory kiss.

“Bad guys beware.” You hum, grinning as his arms slide around you and you lean up to give him his kiss. “Agent Pike is as sharp as they come.”

“Absolutely.” Marcus snorts and turns towards the worker who runs the booth. “The prize?” He asks playfully, shocked when he brings out a stuffed hummingbird as a prize.

“Oh you’re kidding?” The utter delight on your face is sensational though, and you hug the oversized stuffed bird to your chest when Marcus passes it to you.

“We had to find stuffed animals that matched you two.” Sydney giggles. “Hummingbirds for Birdie and the softest, sweetest, brown eyed golden retriever stuffed animal for Marcus.”

“It is the perfect choice for him.” After affectionately telling him he was as cuddly as a puppy for your entire relationship, it’s only right. “I need to win you a stuffed puppy,” you declare with a grin. “So we can have a matching set.” A matching set that will doubtlessly end up in your baby’s crib at first opportunity.

He rolls his eyes playfully, but not one person in the group fails to see the beaming grin or the way that his chest puffs up ever so slightly. Having a woman who equally believes in making their partner feel loved and appreciate has done wonders for him. “We have to have a matching set.” He agrees. “Just like that damn hummingbird tattoo.” He teases with a wink.

“I’m not even sorry,” you hum, looking around at the game stalls for something you think you can win. “That damn tattoo brought us together. Just like I wanted it to.”

He laughs, having to agree with that theory completely. “Oh, it’s my favorite damn tattoo.” He promises, dropping a kiss on your nose.

“Ring toss!” All of a sudden the words burst out of you on a giggle and you’re tugging Marcus toward the game immediately. “I can totally win at ring toss! That was my jam when I was younger. Come on!”

Your enthusiasm is infectious and several from your bridal party join in the game. “Don’t let her win.” Marcus warns playfully.

“Or what?” Alex asks, always on board for both giving you some trouble and trouble in general.

“Now I won fair and square.” He pouts. “It makes it special.”

"*He meant don't cheat so she wins." David tells his fiancé, wrapping one arm around Alex freely. The power to do so has him glowing every time. "Don't worry, Marcus. She's a beast at ring toss. Ask her about her stuffed animal collection sometime."

“Oh?” He turns to you and arches a brow. “Are we already keeping things from each other?” He tsks playfully. “I thought we would never.”

“My savant-like ring toss abilities were not relevant until now.” But still, you’re smiling proudly as the group of you belly up to that stall. “I won every one of those stuffed animals fair and square.”

“Do you still have them? Are they packed up in a box at your parent’s house?” Marcus asks curiously.

"They're in my bedroom in the house in Philadelphia." Tilting your head at him, your grin turns a little lopsided. "Why? What are you thinking?"

“I was thinking that maybe a wall of stuffed animals would go great in our nursery.” Marcus admits shamelessly.

Absolute silence falls over the entire group, with different levels of giddiness and surprise crossing the faces of your family and friends as confusion turns to understanding one person at a time.

"What did you just say?" David and Selena ask, almost in unison, as Syd grins proudly for having just an hour's headstart in knowing your next big news.

“Sweetheart?” He turns towards you, knowing this is an announcement he wants you to be comfortable making.

Your hand fits neatly into his as you stand with your friends around you, and no one has their phone in hand so this isn't going to accidentally end up on the internet, so you nod. "Go ahead, love."

He nods and turns towards the group with the biggest grin on his face. Proud as punch about the news and he’s honestly a little teary just thinking of it. “Birdie and I have officially started trying for our first baby.”

The whole group takes a collective breath before the floodgates open and suddenly everyone is congratulating, exclaiming, and even exchanging money all at once. Selena hands Clark a folded bill and they share an amused expression. "I thought you would wait to start trying until the honeymoon," she admits, amused at Marcus's exasperated expression.

“You bet on when we would start trying for a baby?” Marcus snorts, shaking his head in faux disappointment.

"To be fair, we've made a lot of stupid bets over the course of our friendship," Clark defends, shrugging but feeling absolutely no remorse whatsoever.

Marcus laughs. “Glad I could win you some money, especially from this one.” He tells his friend, pointing at his cousin. “Are you two sure you aren’t soulmates?” He teases.

"What?" Selena sputters, stepping dramatically away from Clark's side and blowing a decidedly animated raspberry in the process. "No. That would be too much of a coincidence."

The vehemence in her denial makes Marcus’s brow tick up and he glances at his friend as he shuffles his feet nervously. “Yeah, her? Never.”

"Guys...?" You look between the two of them and back to Marcus, feeling a beaming grin form on your face the more Selena and Clark shuffle side by side.

“I think they are protesting a little too much.” Sydney snorts, leaning off your shoulder and grinning. “Want to tell the class anything? We’re among friends.”

"We..." Clark glances over at Selena, who bites her lip and slowly lets a smile overtake her face in almost the same way yours did. When she nods, Clark slides his arm around her back and pulls Selena Pike into his side fully. "We didn't want to steal your thunder," he admits sheepishly. "So we were going to wait until after the wedding to say anything."

“There’s no such thing as stealing our thunder.” Marcus manages with a broad smile as he lets the shock subside.

“It’s still your day,” Selena insists, though she is blushing with how tight Clark is holding her. “It’s just…nice to share it with my soulmate.”

“It is our day.” Marcus agrees. “But now we just have a little more to celebrate.” He reaches for both Clark and Selena to pull them in for a hug. “God, I’m so happy for you.”

“I told you he’d get sappy on us,” Selena huffs, but it’s all bark without bite. She’s been so damn happy these last few months with Clark — after both of them had apparently been pining for years but there had always been some kind of barrier in the way. Now it’s just them, and they’ve been brilliantly happy.

“Of course I am.” Marcus snorts. “You’re my favorite cousin.” He reveals shamelessly. He and Selena are the closest cousins, becoming even closer with her moving to D.C.

“Traitor!” A few of his other cousins tease, but it’s all in good fun. Marcus and Selena have always been close and no one whatsoever is surprised by this declaration.

Marcus laughs and slaps Clark on the back. “I hope you know what you’re in for. She’s amazing but a lot.” He warns playfully, ducking her swipe at him and sticking his tongue out in retaliation.

“I have never met a single Pike who was easy going with no strong opinions whatsoever,” you tease, hugging Clark in turn. “And that includes us soulmates of Pikes. Don’t worry about a thing.”

“Well….” Marcus looks around at the group and laughs. “Anything else to celebrate today? Anything at all? Let’s hear it, we are an all-inclusive party.”

David and Alex exchange a glance, deciding not to add more to the pile, but Alex nudges Junie and the youngest of the three First Kids shrugs in exasperation. “Dylan and I found an apartment.” She mumbles, looking supremely embarrassed and wonderfully excited all at once.

“That’s great!” Marcus knows how big of a step this is for your younger sister and he is so proud, scooping her up for a hug. “Don’t pick up his socks.” He warns her. “It sets a bad precedent.”

“That might be the most brotherly advice you could ever give,” she laughs, hugging him back. “But I won’t. I promise.”

Marcus let’s go of your younger sister, only so you can pounce on her with your own hug. He moves over to talk to Dylan about where the apartment was.

It’s long moments of celebration before the group of you go back to playing games, and soon a golden retriever stuffed animal joins the hummingbird in becoming the very first plush toys to be earned and saved for the nursery in your house.

“Trying for a baby, huh?” Alex walks beside Marcus and shoots him a grin. “Are you hoping for a boy or a girl first.” Marcus immediately grins at the idea of a baby and shrugs. “All I care about is if they are healthy.” He admits. “But if I had to pick? I think I want a girl first.”

“It’s going to be twins.” David sidles up to Alex’s other side and wraps his arm around his soulmate’s waist. “I’m making the prediction now. The first pregnancy will be those twins the Pike clan is so famous for.”

There’s a slightly evil edge to Selena’s grin as she spears you with a stare. “And how do you feel like being a double Dutch oven?” She snorts. “Pike’s make big babies, by the way. Like huge.”

“I’ve heard.” Her attempt to tease and scare you only makes you laugh. “If big babies is what it takes to have little Marcuses, I’m all for it.”

She groans in disgust, rolling her eyes but everyone knows that it’s just for show. She will be the proudest cousin cooing at the baby or babies when they come. “I’ll remind you of that when you’re living in a pool like a hippo during the summer.”

You just grin, poking her shoulder in that playful manner you’ve adopted with each other. “Maybe by then, you’ll be in the pool with me?”

Clark’s eyes widen in what can only be described as unrealized hope, as if someone just made him think of something he didn’t know he wanted but now desperately does. Selena sees it and instead of rejecting it outright, she gives a small smile. “Maybe.” She shrugs. “Cousins should be close in age, right?”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens.” You shoot her a wink and aim a broad smile for Clark. He’s such a sweet guy, it’s easy to see the pair as a wonderful couple. “Now…how about we all grab some dinner instead of planning out the next eighteen years of our lives?”

"TO THE FOOD!" Sydney cries, absolutely in love with carnival food despite some thinking that a chef of her caliber would find it abhorrent. "I want a deep-fried cheesecake." She moans, rubbing her stomach gleefully. "Maybe even the deep-fried butter if they have it."

“Are you sure you’re not already pregnant again?” You ask, arching an eyebrow at her food choices.

“Not yet.” She shrugs and grins. “Or maybe I am and don’t know it yet.”

The noise Juan makes at that suggestion can only be described as plaintive, and Alex snorts in affectionate amusement. “All the straight men have baby fever.”

David chuckles and wraps his arm around his soulmate. “I think you might want a baby too.” He teases, leaning in and kissing Alex’s cheek.

“Might be a little difficult biologically,” he reminds his fiancé. “But not out of the question.”

“I don’t think it would be too hard.” David has been thinking about it more than he’s admitted. Baby fever catching and all. “If we had a surrogate to carry one from my sperm and one from yours, we could have a perfectly blended family.”

“You’ve been thinking about this.” It warms Alex through in a way he can’t quite explain, and his arms go around his soulmate entirely so he can squeeze him close. “I love it. A perfect little family all our own.”

He hums happily, thrilled that it will be a conversation they can have down the road. “First, we need to get the bar passed.” He teases. “Kids aren’t cheap.”

"I like that. Planning ahead." Alex grins, tilting his head back to kiss David's cheek as a pose for yet another of Junie's numerous social media posts from today.

“I’m glad there’s been no horrible backlash.” Marcus murmurs to you quietly, watching the couple as they find joy in being so free with their affections.

"There's been the usual stuff. But a lot less than we expected." Of course there has been some backlash, but the White House had been braced for death threats and protests and so far it's only been rhetoric. "It's just been people talking, and we can deal with talking."

“I know, I’m just happy they get to be themselves.” Marcus pulls you close and leans in for a kiss when the sound of a commotion breaks his thoughts.

"Sir, we are closed for a private party!" One of the fair employees is calling from around the corner. It's obvious from his tone that it isn't the first time he's said so, and Agent Bailey stiffens immediately. She takes your shoulder, urging your backward to be with your siblings as Alex and June's agents close in around you and Bailey has one hand over her sidearm like she's ready to quickdraw as she rushes around the corner.

Marcus pushes in front of you, unarmed but immediately willing to be a human shield for you and your siblings. Juan pushes Sydney behind him and Clark is right there. “Sir, come back!” the shout has Marcus stiffening at the sight of someone rushing towards him from the side and without a second thought, he lowers his shoulder and tackles the intruder.

"What the FUCK?!"

The indignant cry is familiar. Too familiar. Familiar enough that you go stiff and grab your brother's hand for emotional support. Oh god. It can't be...

“Get off of me!” Sam Chase struggles to get away from Marcus and his hoodie is pulled away to reveal the frantic, disheveled hair that Marcus remember always being so fastidiously combed. He looks deranged and furious, a bad combination considering he had just crashed a private event. Somehow tracking you down. “Birdie! Call of your dog!”

"What the hell are you doing here?" You're sure as hell not going to call anyone off of anywhere, and you're even less inclined to be polite or kind when your bad penny of an ex has just insulted your soulmate.

“I deserve to be here!” Sam struggles again and manages to get an arm free. Agent Bailey tenses, but eases up slightly when she sees that he doesn’t have a weapon. “I should be here! Me! This was supposed to be my time to shine! He stole it! He stole you!”

"You've got to be kidding me..." The disappointment and heaviness in the way you shake your head is so deeply felt by not just you, but several people in the crowd. "Sam, this is...this is downright sad now. It's been like a year and a half. Just let it go, please."

“You don’t understand.” He huffs, his voice taking on a petulant whine and he continues to struggle as Marcus practically straddles him to keep him on the ground. “You could never see the big picture. You have to come back to me.”

"I don't have to do a single damn thing." Thinking that it would be polite and mature to not have to restrain Sam at every damn turn, you squeeze Marcus's shoulder gently. The silent signal to let up hopefully isn't misplaced. "And we're not rehashing every single reason why our relationship didn't work. I love Marcus. I'm marrying Marcus. And you need to leave. I don't know how the hell you figured out where we are but please just go."

“You happy bullshit Instagram page dedicated to this wedding.” Marcus eases off of him and Sam pushes to his feet with indignant huff, throwing Marcus a scathing look but he doesn’t move. The guns still pointed at him are very real and he would rather not get shot, although maybe the sympathy would bring you back to his side. “It didn’t work?” He shakes his head. “We were happy. You were happy until he showed up.” He jerks his head unhappily towards Marcus. “We said we didn’t need to know our soulmates? Remember? We charted our own course.”

Unfortunate as it is, he does have a point about that. It's something you had said early on and you had actually thought to stick by it. "I was trying to chart a course to a happy and fulfilled relationship. Love. A family." You cross your arms, feeling utterly despondent by the idea of what he did to you all over again. "You charted a course to the White House. You used me. And even if Marcus wasn't my soulmate I have had a happier, more honest, and more supportive relationship with him than you and I ever did. Please for fuck's sake, just leave? This really has gone way too far."

Sam’s brow furrows and he drops to his knees, causing another moment of tension by the way every agent - including Marcus - braces, but it’s just the last ditch plea of a desperate man. “You don’t understand.” He repeats. “They will kill me. They will kill me.” He stress, clapping his hands together and shuffling forward towards you. Literally on his knees begging. “I- I made promises. Promises to some very nasty people when they don’t get what they want.” He shakes his head. “What did it hurt? I was having dinner at the White House every Friday. I made some promises and in return they did me some favors. Except you took away my access!”

"You did what?!" Somehow this reality is even worse, although it doesn't necessarily hurt more. The idea that Sam had been using you is something you're used to now. It doesn't make your chest ache with betrayal anymore. But that he was already betraying the office he aspired to this early? And people were apparently so corrupt that Sam is begging out of fear? A part of you wants to know who these people were just to be able to expose them. "That isn't my problem," you tell him instead, steadily staring down the man who had gotten you to bare yourself to him body and soul without having cared for you for even a second. "If you were doing backdoor deals and dirty handshakes, then you're the one who has to live with the consequences. I'm a human being, Sam. Not a fucking photo op."

“I know, I know, baby.” He pleads. “I do. I love you. You have to know that. I - please? Please, just give me a chance. I can be better, I will be better.”

"No. How many times do I have to say it? Dammit, Sam!" It may be the first time you've ever really yelled at him and you should have done it long ago. It's too much. It's far too damn much for you to still be dealing with this less than two weeks before your wedding. "No. End of story. I am marrying someone else and you're just going to have to deal with that fact!"

There isn’t an ounce of self respect left in his body at this point. The horrible realization that you can’t be convinced to change your mind makes him break down. Sobbing as he drops his hands and his head down. The piper has yet to be paid and now the cost will be too much.

"Alright, Congressman." Agent Bailey steps forward, firearm still drawn but hoping this can be settled peacefully. "I think it's time to go. Don't you?"

“Yeah.” He’s still crying but he’s no longer resisting when she reaches down to take his arm to help him to his feet.

"Alright." She repeats again, stepping up behind him to help him up if he needs it. "How about we get up and walk you back to your car." Any sympathy she might have had for him evaporated a long time ago, but this is...it really is just sad. After the party is over she'll speak to you about reporting the possible abuse of his position to the President. But not now. The party has been dampened enough already.

The agents all gather around Sam after Alex’s makes sure that Marcus will stay with the three of you. Wanting to impart the wisdom of not returning to the congressman out of earshot of the party. Marcus turns towards you, his brow pinches together. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” He knows how badly Sam’s betrayals have hurt, but you just learned the final and most damning piece of the convoluted puzzle. Why Sam was trying so hard.

"Physically? I'm fine. Thanks to you." The fact that Marcus had tackled Sam without hesitation meant that this whole thing probably went a lot smoother than it might have otherwise. Now, though, you lean into Marcus's chest and try to remember all those lessons on controlling your breathing from yoga class. "But...I'm going to have to say something. He just admitted in front of two dozens people to taking bribes while in office."

“Yeah.” He murmurs quietly, rubbing your back. “It’s put me in a hell of a spot. The FBI will be the ones investigating.”

"It won't be your department," you remind him quietly. It's...utterly shaking to have the party interrupted like this and even though someone might think you would expect outbursts from Sam by now, there's really no way to prepare yourself for that in reality. "At least there's that."

“Thank god.” He huffs and pulls away to cup your cheeks gently. “I’m sorry that he had to bust in on our day, but I’m not sorry that I love you and I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you.”

"I love you so much." If that wasn't abundantly clear by now, the gratitude and trust in your eyes might be enough all on its own. Marcus has been everything that Sam was not, in all the little and unconscious ways. His support is unwavering. His love an utter constant. There is never judgement or expectation with Marcus. The universe gave you an unimaginable gift when it made him your soulmate. "More than I could ever say or show, I think."

“No. You show me.” He promises with a small smile. “There’s never a moment I don’t know it, feel it and see it.”

"Show, don't tell." You laugh softly, shaking your head against his chest. "Isn't that what they tell writers? I swear I had a professor that said that. Guess I internalized it."

He kisses your hair. “Nothing wrong with that.” He promises. “Now, don’t want a pretzel first, or one of those Korean corn dogs?”

Steadfast and true, Marcus holds you tight to keep you safe physically as well as make sure your racing mind knows that he will never let anything happen to you. He's the closest thing to an angel you may ever know of in real life and once again you remember to breathe and just let yourself be utterly grateful for his presence. "Korean corn dog," you tell him, summoning a smile as you look up at him. "Definitely."

It's late that night when you make it home again. After leaving the carnival the whole group of you went by a favorite bar for a round together, but you and Marcus found yourself entirely exhausted after just one round so Marcus had plopping you on the back of his bike and brought you home. Your stuffed animal prizes are now deposited in the spare bedroom which will become the nursery, and Marcus is toeing off his boots in the bedroom.

“Babe, do you want a bath?” He smiles when you walk into the bedroom, just like he does every time you walk into a room. He can help it. “Or do you just want to go to bed?” Despite the interruption, you had tried not to let it get you down, but he can see that your mind has been spinning since Sam had appeared and he just wants to help you wind down.

"Do you want to take a bath together?" The giant tub that you had picked out together for the master bathroom in your house is intentionally big enough for two people and you turn your eyes up to him hopefully. "Relax a little?"

It will get you into it and that was his goal. “Absolutely.” He agrees. “I’ll go get it started. You want bubbles or a bomb?”

"Bubbles." Right now all the bombs you have, have glitter in them and that is definitely not the vibe you're going for tonight. Maybe yesterday if you had known about the carnival, but not now. "Thank you, baby. I'll be in, in just a minute."

“Of course.” The idea of putting a bar cart in the bedroom is still one that he thinks will work. Especially for nights like this. The little coffee nook is your favorite thing in the mornings and the bar could be the best thing after a long day.

Undressing is easy enough. Sneakers off. Socks, dress, and underthings all go in the hamper. Jewelry in the tray beside your jewelry box to be sorted through later. Your make up wipes are in the bathroom, so you meander in naked and open the cabinet to wash your face before getting in the bath. "It was a beautiful day. Other than the thing."

“Is that what we are calling him now?” Marcus snorts, admiring your ass as you lean over the counter to carefully remove the winged eyeliner.

"If I had my way," you sigh, swiping the treated makeup remover wipe over your eyelid carefully. "I would never think or speak about him ever again."

“I know. He’s been a real pain in the ass.” Marcus admits.

"Can we..." Glancing up in the mirror, you meet Marcus's eyes easily. "Can we not talk about him tonight? I just want to try to relax with the man I love. Is that...is that okay?" You'll work through it with him, and with your therapist, and you'll speak to your mother about it. But tonight you just need to pretend that Sam Chase doesn't exist and that he has no place at all in your relationship or future.

“Done.” Marcus walks over at holds onto your waist. He kisses your shoulder. “All I want to do is relax and talk about my favorite bachelor party in the entire world.”

"Did you have fun?" Pretending like the day held no strife at all seems like a very good strategy tonight, and when you're done wiping off your makeup you turn around in his arms. "I think our friends had a pretty spectacular idea, if I'm honest."

“Only disappointed that they didn’t have ‘You’re the One That I Want’ queued up to play when we were leaving.” He jokes. “But it was amazing.”

“I would have insisted on listening to it in the car.” You grin and kiss his chin. “Except we were on the bike.”

“And I don’t have a radio on my bike.” He points out and pulls away so he can get undressed. “Go get in the bath, baby.”

Happy to obey that particular command, you cross the white-tiled floor and inhale the fresh scent of jasmine and sandalwood from your bubble bath before climbing in. The depth and the sheer size of the tub mean that the two of you will never have trouble lounging in it together, which might actually be the smartest house-building decision you ever made.

“I have to admit, I love that they threw us a joint party.” Marcus admits easily, pulling his shirt over his head. Juan had wanted a gym buddy, so they’ve been going three times a week and his build has definitely improved in his opinion.

"They knew we'd hate being apart." And right now you don't want to even be a few feet apart. You're going to have to remember to send Juanito a thank you card for suggesting the guys go to the gym together. "It was perfect."

“Yes it was.” He smirks as he unbuttons his form fitting jeans, not oblivious to the way you are eyeing him like your favorite candy. “But not as perfect as you.”

"No need to butter me up," you tease, leaning on the edge of the tub like you're at the edge of the stage at your own personal strip show. "I've got the real perfection right in front of me."

He knows from personal experience that this back and forth compliment thing can go on for hours. Both of you loving the praise and giving praise. Instead of coming back with another thing he loves about you, he winks and pushes down his jeans and boxer briefs to kick off.

"In the bath." Gliding backward in the water gives him room to climb in with you and you tuck yourself against one side to give him plenty of room to get comfortable. "Please and thank you."

He snorts at your manners. “You never have to ask me twice to get into a bath with you, sweetheart.” He jokes. “If I refuse, know it’s my doppelgänger and he’s got me locked in a cage somewhere as he steals my life.”

"Noted." The smirk on your face matches his as he gets in, and you cuddle together on one end of the bathtub. Arms around each other, legs intertwined, and the world outside unable to touch you in the safety of each other.

“This bathtub was the best thing we did in this house.” He groans, loving the tankless hot water that will make soaking a pleasure. “The best.”

"This house was worth the work," you hum in agreement. "Thank you for making it a home with me, love."

“Thank you.” He kisses your shoulder and sighs as the both of you slip a little lower in the water. “You have given me everything that I’ve always wanted so easily. I don’t know how I deserve you.”

“Right back atcha, gorgeous.” You might point out that he literally tackled an intruder to protect you today, but you’re decidedly not speaking of that incident or that person right now. “I guess we’ll just go on being in awe of each other, won’t we?”

“Undoubtably.” His hands always like to roam when you are in a bath together. Reminded of those phone conversations when he was first out of town after getting to know each other. Now, he can touch you like he had imagined back then. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” This close and this tantalizing, you lean into his touch and sigh softly at each little press of his hands. “So much.”

“You looked so pretty in your dress.” He coos softly in your ear. You might not have the physical or mental energy for sex, and he will respect that if that’s the case, but his hands cup your breasts gently. “Wholesome and dirty all at the same time.”

“Mmm, I think you just have a thing for naughty girls who look nice in the surface.” You slide deftly into his lap, one knee on either side of his thighs, without any fear of overflowing the tub. Sinking it down close the floor and building a little platform around it means never having to worry about splashing your bathroom to bits if you want to fuck in the tub.

He chuckles in your ear and his cock twitches against your ass. “Figured that out, huh?” His hand slides up to caress the collar you still proudly wear and he hums in pleasure. “Good girls get pleasured.” He coos. “Bad girls get spanked and then pleasured.”

“I’m not going to lie, babe,” you hum, suppressing a giggle. “Sounds like either way, I win.”

“It does, doesn’t it.” He laughs and knows that it’s all just how it works out. He doesn’t deny you often. “So I guess the question is, do you want me to make love to you? Or fuck you?”

From your position in his lap it's easy to look down on all of him and appreciate the broad expanse of his body. Golden tan skin, smooth chest, strong arms, all of it. "Make love to me?" After the day you had today — and the interruption in the middle of it — you're craving that closeness with him.

Soft it is. Marcus can do soft. He smiles gently and nods, leaning forward to press his lips to yours. It’s slow and sensual, like the pace will be as he traces the familiar path of your favorite spots for him to touch.

These are the kinds of kisses that you get lost in, immediately glad to melt against him as his hands draw you flush to his body and your fingers start to comb through his hair.

One hand cups your breasts, the other slides down to the neatly groomed patch of hair that covers your cunt. Loving how you tilt your hips slightly, thighs spreading more in anticipation. Leaning into his touch and moaning at the first pass of his fingers.

"Baby..." Your hips rock in his lap, canting forward to urge him on just as your tongue dips into the sensitive skin below his ear as you press open mouthed kisses down the length of his neck. "Fuck I love you."

“Love you too.” Marcus groans quietly when your teeth scrape over his pulse, shuddering slightly as he strokes your folds and slides back to press two fingers inside you.

Fullness. Fullness is always the feeling that comes with any part of Marcus. From the way your heart swells with love to the way his finger and cock spread you open to push every extraneous thought clear out of your head. The only thing you have room for is him.

His own kisses run across your shoulders, taking special care to lave your clavicle with his tongue just like he knows you love while his fingers curl inside you. He wants to take his time, be thorough tonight and it starts with building you up until you cannot take anymore before he even slips inside you.

One...two...three fingers stretch you to the limit, making you drop your head back as you ride his hand and clasp his shoulders to hold yourself steady. The bathroom fills with moans and breathy cries as he builds you up, punctuated by his own deep groans of approval each time you rock your hips or gasp his name.

It’s not as slow and sweet as it would have been if he had you stretched out in your bed, but it’s satisfying to watch as you try to restrain yourself. Knowing that you are wanting and needing more, but trusting him to give it to you at his own pace. The jerk of your hips stilled with a shuddered moan. “So beautiful.” He promises, his mouth buried against your throat and working his way down to your tits.

He takes the most pleasure in pulling that first orgasm from you at an unhurried pace, priming you to take him and to let him draw out both your pleasure for as long as he pleases. Only the temperature of the bath water will dictate how long you spend riding him tonight, and even that is up for debate. You can always top off a cold bath with piping hot water.

He keeps the rhythm of his finger deliberate. Playing your pussy like his favorite instrument and loving the soft moans and the way the slickness of your arousal feels coating his fingers under the water. His mouth wraps around a nipple with a groan of your name and he sucks languidly.

One of your arms wraps around his shoulders, anchoring you to him as his fingers fill you over and over again, and with your other hand you reach under the surface of the water to wrap your hand around his cock and stroke it just as languidly as he is at your breasts. Nothing is rushed tonight, though your need for him is growing every second.

Marcus moans against your flesh, twitching in your hand as he pumps his fingers into your heat steadily. Aware that you are panting in his ear because you are so close. “So good.” He mumbles.

This close to your peak is when the chanting starts, moaning his name over and over in time with each thrust of his fingers into your entire body bears down on those thick digits and your fingernails bite into his back with one hand and the other stills on his cock. You fly apart for him at the perfect curl of his fingers inside you, but it’s just the beginning of the night. Just the first of many orgasms. The start of a night that will be as drawn out as you could possibly desire.

Watching you cum, feeling it, is probably one of his best gifts. The awe that always washes through him when you combust in pleasure is so satisfying. Knowing that he had made you peak this way. “I love you.” He moans, slowly working you through it.

When you sink down against him fully worth every muscle in your body relaxed and the aftershocks still coursing through you, absolutely no feeling could be better except what’s coming next. “I love you, baby.”

He hums, almost chuckles as your body leans against his heavily. His fingers are still curled up inside you, but he swears you could probably drift off to sleep right now.

“You’re so good at that,” you hum, giggling at how drunk your voice sounds on pleasure alone.

“Yeah?” his own voice is slightly smug and he kisses your chin. “I think you just like to cum.”

“I mean you’re not wrong,” you giggle a little but pull back to look him in the eye. “But I’d rather cum on your cock than anywhere else.”

“Is that a hint?” He smirks at you. “You’re ready for more? Insatiable.”

“Would you rather just go to bed?” The teasing edge in your voice spreads with a grin. “Did you not want to breed me tonight?”

Marcus groans at the magic word, his cock twitching against your folds. "Fuck." He hisses, blowing how a breath through his teeth. "You know how to twist my arm, don't you?" He huffs, leaning in and capturing your lips in a kiss as he pulls you close again. "I want to breed you, fill you with my baby tonight."

Twist his arm? You grin into the kiss, knowing it's just as pleasurable of a kink for you as it is for him. Especially now that it's no longer make believe. Since deciding to try for a baby, even your lovemaking has gotten decidedly more animalistic with that need. "Do it, Daddy," you hum, gasping sharply when he pulls his fingers out of you and replaces them with his cock in one practiced stroke.

Hissing in pleasure, his hands turn harsh. Fingers digging into your flesh as pulling you down onto his cock harder than the previous languid pace of his fingers. Reacting to your need for him, your use of the word Daddy in both the submissive nature and the fact that you wanted him to breed you, had water sloshing over the side of the deep tub from the force of his thrust.

You’re both needy when you’re like this. Grasping for handfuls of each other, teeth biting and tongues laving everywhere. It’s like a flurry of competition to decide who wins the award of fiercest love, as if that depth could be quantified in the sweet aches you leave behind on each other’s bodies.

"So good, so good to me." Marcus praises breathlessly. "Gonna be such...a good wife." He pants. "Good momma. Everything."

"All for you." It's so easy to promise him the world when you mean it so dearly, and even with your head thrown back and your chest arched against his as you rock in his lap and ride him there in the bath, you pour out praise of your own to let him bask in just as much love as he's giving. "Perfect soulmate, feels so fucking good inside me — gonna fuck a baby so deep inside me—"

Marcus groans, loudly at your surety. Knowing that he will fill you up and pray that it takes. That you are so willing to change your body for him, for your future kids. His hand slides down to cover your stomach, where the baby will rest, before he slides his fingers down to your clit again. "Fuck yes. Take it, want you to carry my baby." He pants out raggedly.

“Then cum for me, Daddy.” Sweet and filthy all at once, you speed up your pace bouncing on his cock and feel your pussy bear down on him as he starts to rub your clit. “Cum for me and fill me up.”

His head rocks back, unable to do more than sit still and rub your clit while you bounce on his cock like you are riding a rodeo. "Fuck, not—" He chokes when your walls clench around him and barely resist giving into his body and filling you up. "Before— you do." He manages, his voice strangled and he just knows tonight is the night that he's going to get you pregnant.

"So close." He's long since learned which buttons to push to make you cum quickly, and in this case the button is very literal. "So close baby, so close to our baby."

"Want you- to prop your hips up." He groans, leaning in and wrapping his lips around your nipple for some extra pleasure. Knowing that you say that sucking on your tits shoots straight down to your pussy.

"Fuck!" It's sharp and sweet and earth shattering, the way your second orgasm hits you as soon as he sucks on your nipple, scraping his teeth down your areola with just the right amount of pressure. Your body locks up gorgeously, hands clinging to his shoulders just as firmly as the velvet walls of your pussy hold his cock deep inside you.

He had been holding back for you. Already on the cusp of his own orgasm, as soon as you start pulsing around him, he lets go. He has to rock his hips up, "fuck, take it, oh fuck baby, so good, so good for me." He pants against your breast.

There are some times when the two of you will break out into an endorphin-driven fit of giggles after sex. Or sometimes lie panting together for long moments afterward just holding each other. Sometimes the overwhelming emotions that come with lovemaking have you both smothering tears afterward. Tonight you find yourselves staring into each other's eyes as the shockwaves course through you, filled the the unshakable determination that something wonderful has just happened.

"I love you." A whisper in the flickering candlelight. A promise. And a wholehearted vow for the future.

______

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[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 14

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 2214

Warnings: Angst, suspense, emotional situations, Crowley being Crowley.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 14

When the SUVs pulled up to what looked like a heavily guarded wrought iron gate, attached to a thick brick or concrete wall, your heart almost felt like it would beat out of your chest. Dean at least still had his arm over your shoulders, holding you close, but your eyes were focused on the things outside. Outside the gates, all you could make out were the tall hedges and trees that had grown past the top of the wall, which you assumed encompassed the property. There were a few different types of vines, but they looked as though they’d been repeatedly cut back.

You wanted to ask where they’d taken you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak at the moment, even after what the judge had said. As the gates began to open, you felt like you were almost holding your breath. The driveway was neatly kept, winding its way through a pedicured landscape of trees, hedges, and flower beds. The mansion of a house where the SUVs stopped took your breath away. It was the most elegant and extravagant home you’d ever seen in person. The agent next to Benny opened the door, stepped out, and then held the door for the three of you. You swore your jaw had hit the pavement as you stepped out, staring up at the mansion before you when that Scottish accent pulled your gaze to the man coming down the steps.

“Oh good, you made it without incident,” Crowley stated, seeming quite pleased.

“What’s going on?” you asked, relieved it was Crowley and not someone from the Vaught family.

“I’ve made arrangements for you to stay here during the course of your case,” he explained. “One of my men will be back with your belongings, and theirs as well. Now, shall we get some brunch?”

You were still fairly confused, but you followed Crowley into his mansion, Dean by your side and Benny bringing up the rear. The interior of Crowley’s mansion was even more impressive than the exterior. As you stepped inside, your eyes were immediately drawn to the high ceilings adorned with intricate moldings and chandeliers that looked like they belonged in a palace. The walls were lined with dark wood paneling and elegant wallpaper, giving the space a sophisticated yet intimidating ambiance.

You walked through a grand foyer with a sweeping staircase that curved up to the second floor. The marble floors gleamed underfoot, and you could see various pieces of antique furniture and art tastefully arranged throughout the space. It was a stark contrast to the cold, sterile environment of the courtroom.

Crowley led the way down a long hallway, the rich scent of polished wood and old books filling the air. You passed several rooms, each one more opulent than the last, until you reached a set of double doors. Crowley pushed them open to reveal a lavish dining room.

The dining room was dominated by a long, mahogany table that could easily seat twenty people. The table was already set for a smaller group, with fine china, crystal glasses, and silver cutlery laid out meticulously. The walls were lined with tall bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes, and several large windows allowed natural light to pour in, illuminating the room in a warm glow.

A chef and a few servants were bustling around, preparing the final touches for the meal. The aroma of bacon, cooking meat, and something that was perhaps a fine fish dish wafted through the air, making your stomach rumble in anticipation.

“Please, have a seat,” Crowley gestured to the chairs, taking his place at the head of the table. Dean guided you to a seat beside him, and Benny sat across from you, giving you a reassuring nod.

As you settled into the plush chair, Crowley smiled and spoke to the servants, “Begin serving, please.”

The servants moved with practiced efficiency, bringing out a covered plate for each of you, while others had platters with delectable deserts displayed on them. The aromas only made your mouth water further. Another servant set a chilled, open beer on a coaster near your, Dean’s, and even Benny’s plate while another poured Crowley a glass of what looked like fine wine.

Crowley dismissed the servant as he looked at you, his expression more serious now. “You must have many questions,” he said, taking a sip. “Feel free to ask anything you need to understand.”

You wanted to answer him, but the servants set a dish down in front of the three of you, revealing what had smelled so good. Yours and Dean’s contained the most delicious-looking burger you’d ever seen, while Benny got something that was clearly something he hadn’t had in a long time. You were just too focused on your burger at the moment to even ask what it was.

“Figured you lot would prefer something simple,” Crowley told you, seeing you focused on the meal and not his prior statement.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, looking over at him as Dean squeezed your knee in a reassuring way. “Why are you doing this for us?” you asked finally.

Crowley’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something softer behind his usual confident exterior. “Let’s just say, I have a vested interest in seeing justice served. The Vaughts have been playing games for too long, and it’s about time someone put a stop to it.” Dean leaned in slightly, his voice low. “We appreciate your help, Crowley. But what’s the catch?”

Crowley chuckled, setting his glass down. “No catch, Dean. Just a mutual benefit. You get the support you need for this case, and I get the satisfaction of seeing the Vaughts lose for once.” Benny spoke up, his tone serious. “We’ll do whatever it takes to win this. They’ve messed with the wrong people.” Crowley nodded approvingly. “That’s the spirit, Benny. Now, let’s eat. You’re going to need your strength for what lies ahead.” As the meal progressed, you found yourself relaxing slightly, the initial shock of Crowley’s opulent home giving way to a sense of determination. You had allies in the fight, and together, you were going to bring the Vaughts to justice.

Halfway through the meal, the double doors opened, instantly pulling your attention to what looked like a butler. “They’re here, Sir,” he told Crowley.

“Ah, wonderful,” Crowley replied, delighted as a smile played at his lips. “Show them in.”

The butler nodded, and a few moments later, Sam, Ellen, Jodi, Bobby, Mary, and John came into the dining hall. You instantly stood as Ellen made her way to you, tears in both your eyes as you embraced her in a tight hug.

“Oh, honey,” she told you softly, and you heard the sadness and relief in her tone.

“I’m okay, Auntie,” you replied quietly.

Ellen held you at arm’s length, her eyes scanning your face as if reassuring herself that you were truly alright. “We’ve been worried sick about you,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

Dean, Sam, and even Benny embraced in hugs before Dean hugged John and Mary. Even Jodi and Bobby hugged the boys, then came over to you, giving you a soft, but relieved smile, embracing you in a hug. 

“We’re here for ya, kid,” John told you with the softest expression you’d ever seen on the man.

Crowley, ever the consummate host, gestured to the empty seats. “Please, join us. There’s plenty of food, and we’ve much to discuss.” As everyone settled around the table, the atmosphere shifted slightly. There was a sense of camaraderie, of a team coming together to face a common enemy. You wished that Jo could be there, as she was more like a sister to you than a cousin. And, oddly enough, even Cas and Garth. Just as you were finally feeling like you were relaxing, your mark began burning, horribly, a pained hiss leaving your lips just as Dean was getting out of his seat.

Crowley snapped his fingers a couple of times while you put your hand over your mark, missing whatever was being said. Moments later, though, Dean was putting cream on your mark. “It’s okay, I’m right here,” he attempted to soothe you as the entire room had gone silent.

“Well, now, this changes things,” Crowley mused from where he sat, leaning back in his chair. “Why wasn’t I informed about that?”

“About what?” you asked, only wincing slightly as you looked at him.

“With that,” he began, gesturing to your mark, “we’ve got a little more leverage.”

You tried to look down at your mark, but with where it was, you couldn’t see it. Frustrated, you looked back at him, “What are you talking about?”

He practically laughed, “Dean, you haven’t told her?” 

All Dean did was glare at him and the others stayed silent, which only annoyed you further. “Tell me what?” you snapped, clenching your hands in your lap.

“I was waiting,” Dean managed through a clenched jaw, clearly annoyed.

“Will someone tell me what the hell you’re talking about? I’m tired of this, of all of you keeping secrets from me,” you snapped at them, looking around the table as your anger finally boiled over. When no one spoke up, you just got up and walked off, practically slamming the dining hall doors. 

Crowley sighed and nodded to one of his servants, who promptly followed you. The servant was a young woman with kind eyes, and she caught up with you just as you were starting to feel lost in the labyrinthine halls of the mansion.

“Miss, please allow me to show you to a room where you can rest. Your bags have already been brought up,” she said softly.

Too tired to argue, you nodded and followed her. She led you up a grand staircase and down a long corridor to a beautifully furnished room. “If you need anything, just ring this bell,” she instructed, indicating a small ornate bell on the bedside table.

“Thank you,” you murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed as she left the room.

Meanwhile, back in the dining hall…

Dean, still fuming, stood up, “We agreed to tell her when her mark came in more.”

Crowley shrugged nonchalantly, although he wasn’t pleased about his secrecy, “It slipped my mind. Besides, she has a right to know.”

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. “This isn’t helping. How did she not notice one of the letters came in all the way?”

Dean sighed and sat back down, “She never looked in the mirror at it, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her to.”

“Son, she’s gonna be more hurt if you wait much longer,” John told him sincerely.

“Does she have at least an idea of how you’re connected to all this?” Crowley asked, although clearly frustrated, but needing further information.

“Not completely,” Dean reluctantly answered.

“Benny, did she even pay attention when Dean testified?” Sam asked, fairly puzzled how you wouldn’t have found out.

Benny sighed, “No. I was talkin’ to her. Tryin’ to help er’ relax a little.”

Crowley was usually a calm, collected man, but this frustrated him: "What does she know?”

Dean grabbed his beer, taking a sip before he answered, staring at the label, “I told her I know she’s my soul mate, part of the thing with Lisa, and that she’s an empath.”

“That’s it?” Bobby exclaimed in annoyance and frustration.

“That explains why she knows we’re hiding something,” Mary sighed, looking back at the closed dining hall doors.

“I didn’t want to make it harder on her,” Dean mumbled quietly.

“Dean, she has to be told, before her birthday, or it’s gonna hurt her more, and not just emotionally,” Sam told him, his tone soft but firm. “I know what I told you before, but she’s quickly running out of time.”

Dean’s attention went to the doors, his mind on only you and what you were feeling. He’d hated not telling, not letting himself get closer to you than you’d let him. He’d felt everything from the moment he’d seen you that first day at the bar, and it was tearing him up inside that you still doubted him. Sam had warned him of the risks of waiting too long, but he just hadn’t been able to find the right time and he didn’t want to do it once you two had gotten stuck in that bunker. “Dean, are you even listened?” Crowley asked him, frustrated and now leaning forward in his seat, pulling Dean from his thoughts.

“Yeah, I mean, no. I wasn’t listening,” he grumbled.

An annoyed sound left Crowley’s lips as he leaned back in his seat. “Her birthday is in two days. Either you tell her tomorrow, or I’ll have to make sure the doctor is here.” His tone was of concern for you more than for Dean.

Dean looked down at his beer, “She’s gonna hate me, but… I’ll tell her tomorrow.”

“Son, she’s gonna be mad at all of us, but she’s not going to hate us, especially not you,” John tried to reassure him, feeling bad for what not only his son had to go through, but also what you have had to endure.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 15

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[anki-of-beleriand]

Bad Liar ch. 15

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accpet what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers - Mentions of Natasha/Maria being married

Warnings: Slow burn - Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - violence - mentios of abused and sexual assault - more tags as the story progress.

Author's note: They needed to find a way out, but it turned out to be a deathly way to deal with the current confrontation.

This chapter was really hard to write because I didn't want to focuse too much on the violence but I did want to put the tension around everyone. They are not agents or people with superpowers, so perhaps their reactions is tied up to what they had seen in movies and who they are more so that because of that expertise. Guys, we are almost there!!! Please rmemeber English is not my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes, hope you like this one.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 15

Five minutes to midnight

You let out a groan, your body weighted you down and the world in front of your eyes was spinning out of control. You opened your mouth, but no sound came, only the ragged breathing that created a piercing pain on your chest.

Wanda 

Her name came into mind, and soon after panic rose in your mind. You needed to move, and fast, Wanda was outside and she was in danger. With great effort you tried to sit up, pain clutch at your arm and the office spiralled in front of your eyes. You held your head, taking a deep breath that made you open your mouth in discomfort.

You tried to evaluate the damage, your legs were left mostly unharmed, but your midsection, your arms and your head had been harmed quite badly. You grimaced trying to stand up holding onto the table, your eyes closed for a moment before you found the broken mobile on the far corner. Staggering towards the place, you let out a cry when you tried to grab the mobile. The screen had been crushed, and the normal functions of the phone were not available for you.

“Tony.” You rasped out, “Friday call Tony.”

The mobile flickered, the sound was not good and suddenly it just turned off. You dropped the article turning around, it would be up to you to get help. You dragged yourself to the door, each step a painful reminder of the fight you held with the man.

Your hand lifted to the panel to call for the elevator. You waited, taking slow breaths, trying to hold onto your sanity while thinking about Wanda. About your family.

“Y/N!!!!” 

You let out a whimper, turning around fast made you crash against the wall. your eyes went wide, and relief soon filled your expression when you noticed Maria coming towards you with the security detail of the building and Nick Fury.

“Maria, Wanda…” you started watching as everyone started checking the floor, Fury held you up with Maria cupping your face, completely pale and trembling.

“Wanda…you didn't tell me…” you groaned trying to glare at the woman, but Maria shook her head.

“I wasn't supposed to, Y/N. Natasha made me promise, it was to make sure Wanda's secret was safe…”

You shook your head glaring at Maria and Fury, “if anything happens to her…”

You groaned again, tears coming out of your eyes, Maria’s lip quivered while putting your face in her hands.

“I'm sorry, they already sent a search and capture warrant with Wanda's car description and plates.” Maria tried to soothe your worries; Fury nodded to the lift where a pair of paramedics came in ready to assist you.

“America, Billy and Tommy…”

“I sent someone over there, everything is being taken care of.” Fury placed you on the floor slowly, the stern glance firmly in place.

“He said something to you, anything else that may help us in our search?” 

You shook your head letting the paramedics do their job, you tried to wrap your mind in what was happening, the officials and security looking around the place.

“I just wished you had told me…” You mumbled tiredly; your attention turned to the two men attending to your wounds. “How bad is it?”

“I think we need to take you to the hospital,” one of them started checking the bruises and the general stated you were in, “some bones may be broken but we cannot be certain unless we take some x-rays or…”

“No, I need…I need a computer.” You replied shaking your head, lifting your face to see Maria there, “call Tony.”

“Y/N I think…” Fury started but your eyes shot a heated glare towards the man.

“My family is in danger, Fury.” You motioned to the paramedics so they could help you up, “you need help, and right now Tony and I are your best hope, you got us into this mess, you better pray to God that this ends well…”

Fury held your stare with his sole eye, he pursed his lips tempted to say something against your plan but you were probably right. He nodded curtly, with Maria already making the call to Tony; you let out a breathy cough shivering while motioning to one of the medics to come closer.

“I need something for the pain, but not to leave me out of it, do you have something like that?”

He hesitated glancing at his partner then at you, “we’re not supposed to….”

“Don’t worry, I will take full responsibility, just…give me your best drug I will need it.” You mumbled making your way to the closest lab, you sat down in one of the chairs while turning on the computer.

“There are two patrols driving right now towards your house, they will be there in twenty minutes,” Fury entered the room with you, his eye glancing curiously at the screen, “Tony is coming over, he will be here in ten. What exactly are you doing?”

“This man…I know you guys want him for the deals he is making but, Maria, how bad is it going to be for Wanda? I need to know everything.”

Fury and Maria glanced at one another, you hit the table with your fist glaring at the both of them while pointing to the screen.

“I can hack into her mobile and his, I can put a tracker on them or the car Wanda is using, but I need to know everything! I need to know she is going to be fine! That nothing is going to happen!!”

This last part was said with tears welling up in your eyes, “tell me you don’t think this man is going to hurt Wanda or Billy or Tommy or even America…and I step aside…”

Maria clenched her jaw sitting right beside you turning on another of the computers, “what do you want me to do?”

Fury huffed putting his mobile out and typing really quick before making a phone call, you winced with your eyesight getting blurry every once in a while, but your fingers moving decisively over the keyboard.

________________

Wanda drove in silence, her mind completely blank reflecting what her face was trying to convey. The world passing her through was moving in slow motion, Wanda could not feel anything at all, she was just going through the motions with the weight of Vision's hand on her thigh gripping her tightly to the point she could almost feel the bruises he was leaving on her.

For a brief moment Wanda played with the idea of crashing her car against a tree or a wall. She could actually spot a couple of places that could work for her plan, she knew that whatever happened her boys would be okay. She liked to think that you wouldn't leave them alone and that maybe Natasha would also come forth to help them out. But Vision cut her hopes off when he punched her thigh pressing the barrel of the gun on her ribs.

“Don't even think about it,” Vision spoke in a dangerous whisper, the cold anger sent shivers down Wanda's back, “if we're not there by the time the clock strikes the six, Agatha will make sure our children join us in death.”

“No…” Wanda held her tongue before she could say something else.

She was not surprised that Agatha's name came into play in the conversation. The young woman had known that their neighbour had been playing on Vision’s side from the very beginning. At first, Wanda had fallen for her good-natured smile and the complicity she came by on that first meeting, it took Wanda some time to realise that all her secrets and mistakes were being told to her husband by the very woman she thought was her friend.

Soon, Wanda discovered Agatha enjoyed her suffering while also flirting with Vision and making her children's life impossible. The fact that, at the end of everything, Agatha had come forth to be with Vision in such a predicament was not a surprise at all.

“Yes, Agatha is a good pet, I have to admit that much.” Vision said offhandedly, he turned to Wanda and this time around his hand drew circles on her thigh going up and down until he was grinding Wanda's crotch pressing his knuckles harshly. 

“But you, my love, have the most exquisite moans and tears I have ever seen in a woman,” he clenched his jaw when Wanda grimaced holding back her disgust but unable to hide it from his eyes.

Wanda let out a groan when he hit her hard on her thigh, he did it again, and again, and again until Wanda almost lost control of the wheel.

“Look where you are going, my love, or the kids will suffer. Now you are going to take your punishment quietly, like a good wife, are you not?”

“No.” The word came out of nowhere, it left her lips with more strength and conviction to what she actually felt at the moment.

Wanda flickered her glance through the rear mirror, Vision was left dumbstruck never before having heard such a tone of voice, or that strength behind his wife. He was so tempted to hurt her, to teach her…but, he leaned back on the seat if the car chuckling darkly.

“Sooner or later, my love, you will bend to my will.” He cocked his head pointing to the road, “for now, drive faster, we are almost there and I'm dying to see my kids.”

Wanda clenched her fist tightly around the wheel, she tried to hold back the tears welling up in her eyes. Her mind was screaming in pain, confusion and terror, she was trying desperately to give of a signal to one of the cars moving past her, she was trying to make faces or make sure anyone could see the state Vision was in. But it was as if the world was deaf and blind, for a moment she let go of her thoughts, and soon enough she thought of you. 

The panic that had risen inside her went limp for a moment, the memory of your smile and your words almost made her smile. She held onto these memories, while trying to quiet down her worries. She remembered Vision's words, the story of you laying on the floor in a pool made of your own blood.

And now, she was driving to her home begging and hoping that perhaps America had decided to go to her place with the twins or opted to take them out to someplace.

She could only hope, though. 

With a heavy heart, and fear she drove down the highway trying to make sure every camera on the road could take a good picture of her and the wounded Vision sitting by her side.

Time, all she needed was time.

__________

Agatha Harness stood by the window, her fingertips caressing the soft texture of the curtains protecting the intimacy of the house. She smiled, the two cops that had parked in front of Wanda's home had finished the inspection on the property talking through their radios before making their way to the car. 

She turned around to see America and Kate tied together on the ground while Tommy and Billy had been frozen on the sofa. The little boys were trembling, each one of them wearing the signs of the struggle they tried to put up when they came across the woman.

The ordeal had been far too easy, nor America or Kate knew of her, and by the time the twins were ready to scream she had put the weapon against the Bishop heir. Now, all she had to do was wait. 

“I don't suppose your sister keeps the alcohol in the living room, right?” Agatha put a hand on her cheek, her eyes gleaming mischievously at America who was glaring at her. “Yes, I think a house filled with teenagers would make her think twice about the storage of the alcohol.”

America struggled against the ropes on her hands, she lifted her chin in defiance only to be soothed over by the side glance from Kate and the whimpers from Tommy. Agatha rolled her eyes approaching the young teen, her fingers mapping out the features of the young woman.

“You are quite the beauty, Missy, just like your sister,” Agatha lifted a brow walking towards the closest table that held a picture of you and America, “I can see why Wanda fell for her. I have always suspected Wanda was odd, but never imagined she was into women. Tsk, no wonder she could never please Jarvis.”

The woman strolled around the room taking notice of the different objects adorning the living room, the pictures and the technological gadgets, the expensive furniture and the layout of the house. Without a doubt, you had money, and Agatha could appreciate the sleaziness behind Wanda's actions to get you wrapped around her finger. Too bad this wouldn't last,at least at the end you would be grateful that her and Jarvis would free you from such an arrogant, and quite dangerous individual.

The mobile she brought with her rang three times, her face lit up picking up the gadget from the table before turning to the twins.

“Well, boys, I hope you are ready because daddy just got here!” She exclaimed happily clapping while rushing to the sofa, she tried to put a hand on Tommy's shoulder but Billy slapped it away. 

“Nos, Billy, don't be like that,” the woman slapped Billy under the muffled protests of America and Kate, she glared at the boys before grabbing both of them harshly. “You two will behave, you will go out there and greet your dad and then we will be on our way. There is a long trip waiting for us, and your dad has made a great effort to make this perfect for the family.”

America winced under the biting pressure of the ropes on her hands, she felt the slashes on her wrists and the burning pain running up her arm. To her left, Kate was just breathing with her eyes, the only indicator that she was scared. America felt like an idiot, she knew it was her fault the woman had entered the house that this freaking woman had trapped them in and then dragged them to her house so the police couldn't notice they were missing. Many thoughts were crossing her mind, she was thinking about Wanda that was looking so beautiful that day, with hope and happiness at being on a date with you, she thought about you perhaps back at work ignorant of what was happening. America wished she could do something, but her fight against the binds on her wrist had caused a lot of damage and she couldn't risk anything foolish that would endanger Kate, Billy or Tommy.

Agatha fixed herself pushing the twins forward to the door, she put on a big smile while opening the door. America's breath caught in her throat when her eyes fell on the figure of Wanda Maximoff and Edwin Jarvis. Both of them wore the signs of struggle, blood and bruises covering their bodies but whereas Wanda was scared with her green eyes falling on her children then on America; Jarvis was looking enraged.

“Jarvis!! What happened to you?” The other woman ran to her lover, but the man dismissed her pushing her and Wanda away to greet his children.

“Billy, Tommy, my boys,” he opened his arms waiting for the greeting of her children, his expression changing into one of anger when the boys didn't move from the spot, if anything their eyes went wide open sending glances to Wanda.

“Is this the way I teach you to greet me, boys?” Jarvis never lifted his voice, he spoke calmly, softly with a hint of coldness in his voice.

Wanda nodded at the twins, and after a moment of hesitation they came to Jarvis hugging him with trembling hands. Jarvis smirked ruffling their heads harshly making them wince under the pressure.

“That wasn't so hard, was it?”

The man limped inside the house closing the door behind him, he pushed Wanda further into the house before settling his eyes on America and Kate. He raised a brow quite amused at Agatha who smiled back.

“They were in the way.”

“Indeed.” Jarvis sat down on the sofa, his eyes falling on America for a long moment before pointing at Wanda, “now dear come sit here, we need to talk about the future.”

Wanda held back her facial expression, she tried to conceal the disgust she was feeling at the thought of her sitting on Vision's lap. The man path his thigh three times, and Wanda knew she would need to comply or else, this would end up badly. With some reluctance, she stepped forward knowing America and Kate were looking at her shaking their heads while Tommy and Billy cried silently sitting on the chair in front of them.

“Now, dear, we're going to talk about the future and your misdeeds,” the man passed his hand through Wanda's uncovered knee, his eyes gleaming in lust ignoring the open frown from Agatha.

“You see, Mrs. Y/L/N,” he said directing his attention to America, the young woman scowled but said nothing, “I gave everything to my wife, I took her in when no one else loved her, I educated her, dress her, I have her children, a house…and what does she do? She leaves in the middle of the day and takes my children with her. Why? Because she is a bad woman and a bad mother, and she is always defying me and going against my wishes, even though she has been mine since the very first time his father sold her to me.”

Wanda felt her lower lip quivered; the fear she was experimenting soon mixed up with the anger his words were fuelling. The muscles on her arms and shoulders tensed, her fingers twitching trying to form a fist she still didn't dare to throw to the man that had his hand on her thigh. The young woman was trying with all her might to look for a way out, her eyes found those of America and Kate and she regretted the moment she hid the truth from you or rejected the idea of this ever happening. But, what she regretted the most was dragging you and your family into this mess.

Would you still love her if something were to happen to America?

Would you still want Wanda after all of this?

Wanda needed her kids, America and Kate safe, she let her eyes wander around the room before turning to Vision. Nausea raised inside her throat, her heart almost stopping with the shiver of sheer repulsion as she lifted her hand to cup Jarvis face.

The man let her eyes wander back to Wanda, he had not lost his scowl but now there was curiosity in his gestures. He raised a single eyebrow, his lips curling slightly when he spotted the fear and submission in Wanda.

“Are you going to apologize?” He asked Wanda nodded, opening her mouth only to close it again.

The words tangled themselves on her throat, Jarvis snorted lifting his hand only to wrap in around her neck.

“You will have time for that for now I think we need to go.” He grabbed Wanda tightly making her stand up while he did too, letting out a groan of pain.

His face was swelling slowly, while the eye you had hurt was bleeding profusely. Wanda stepped back when he almost fell down, but the man held onto Wanda before straightened up.

“As fun as this has been,” Jarvis turned to America and Kate, “we will leave, I'm sorry about your loss, but surely you understand that when you mess with a taken woman the consequences may be…deathly.”

America opened her eyes, they stinged with unshed tears just as her struggle against the ropes started again. Jarvis smirked when Wanda shook her head, and desperation filled America's face.

“I'm sure you will thank me, once you are able to come upon such a good inheritance.” The man stepped away from Wanda going over to where the twins were sitting, he grasped their clothes pulling them to him harshly making them yelped and Wanda almost went to their rescue. Agatha was right on top of her stopping her before pushing her to the entrance door.

“However, if by any chance, Y/L/N survive then…you may let her know that I make sure to take my wife in body and soul,” Jarvis continued with his rant, “and that the last thing she did before the end was scream my name.”

Kate clenched her jaw trying to hold back her tears, America was still struggling trying to get free to get to her phone. Her mind wrapped around the idea of you being dead or badly wounded without any help.

Jarvis pushed his family to the door, and he was about to close the door when his ears caught the sound of guns getting ready to fire. He turned around only to see five police cars parked on the street cutting off the exit. He snarled, grabbing his own gun and pointing it to Tommy. This time around Wanda did react by hitting Agatha on the face while going to Tommy, she stopped dead in her tracks when Vision pressed the barrel on Tommy's head.

“Are you ready to risk it, dear?”

“Vision, please…take me, just…take me, leave him alone.” Wanda begged, her voice trembling with her eyes wide open.

Tommy started sobbing with Billy gripping his brother wide eyed with tears streaming down his cheeks.

The moment of tension grew amongst them, Vision ready to risk everything to get out of the situation alive. And everything would have ended in tragedy if it wasn't for his phone that started ringing. The man blinked a couple of times confused, he kept the gun pointing to Tommy while also grabbing the phone with a hint of annoyance and curiosity. 

His brows got lost on the hairline, with his lips twitching back while the skin around his cheeks tensed. His eyes went quickly to Wanda who was struggling with herself ready to grab her children, Vision huffed, pressing the green button while locking his glance with Wanda.

“I am very surprised to see you survive.” His voice dripped sarcasm, a hint of anger tainting his words.

“I can't say I was left unaffected, but my people were nearby,” you trailed off holding whatever else you wanted to say to the man while fear gripped your heart tightly, “but your failure is not the reason I call you about.”

You winced when Peggy Carter and James Logan glared at you while pointing to the script they had set up for you. The man at the other end of the line chuckled darkly, the scream from Wanda and Tommy almost made you drop the phone.

“I wouldn't call it a failure if you are at the office and I am at your home with them, and your sister.”

You clenched your fists tightly, wincing when the effort tensed the bruises in your body.

“Touché.” You took a deep breath, the words leaving your mouth with a bad taste, “I have a proposal for you.”

This time around Vision was looking extremely interested, he didn't lose sight of the police patrols or the people surrounding the house. He could see everyone waiting for the action while he spoke with you. His eyes soon drifted to Wanda and the kids, before settling in Agatha who had her own weapon tightly grasped on her left hand. He weighed his options, the tension kept growing and he knew any moment now a team of negotiators would arrive to control the situation.

The end of this particular chapter of his life wasn't looking bright, and he hated that he let himself be caught in such a foolish action. He contemplated his options, but your voice soon brought to the table a most suitable deal.

“Kingpin sold you out for a pretty good deal of money you stole from him,” you let out a raspy cough, the pain shooting electric spasm through your body, “you know what will happen, jail would be your grave.”

Vision narrowed his eyes, nodding to Agatha and Wanda to go back inside the house, his hand never wavering while pointing the gun to his son. He frowned, noticing that not since the phone call had anyone done or said anything, no one had dared to even approach him or try to talk him out of the threat. Vision’s mind started working fast through the different possibilities and ways in which he could get out of the situation. Your words had made his blood run cold, a shiver of sheer terror went through him knowing that his previous associate knew of the embezzlement of the money he had done while working for the man.

How did you know him? 

Did he really rat Vision out?

“He is a practical man, and I'm a woman of business. Why do you think the police have done nothing to try and take you out and away from my family?”

“Perhaps they are afraid I could keep my promise of putting a bullet in my son's head.” Vision retorted, you sighed in exasperation and the man was really tempted to put the bullet in your forehead.

“You are not an idiot, they won't do anything unless I say so. Money can buy a lot of things, Jarvis.”

Jarvis was starting to feel tired, his head was hurting and his eye was actually killing him. The sight on his right eye was getting blurry and with every minute that passed his body felt heavier and sensitive on his skin.

“And how much does your sister and her girlfriend cost, Y/N?” this time he turned to America who was torn between relief and fear. 

“Enough to make an effort and call you back.”

“What about the life of my children and Wanda?”

This time around he could hear the intake of breath on your end, he smirked tilting his head until his eye was mocking Wanda.

“Ah, not that much, I see. Don't worry, I don't blame you, if she did this to me, imagine what she would do to you.”

Wanda was trembling, her arms limped at her sides. She had her eyes on her children, forgetting the tears rolling down her cheeks or the ability to move, her only concern was to get Tommy and Billy out of the situation she was in at the moment. Wanda blinked, turning to Vision wrapping her mind around his words, soon she understood who was behind the line talking to him and her heart almost stopped beating at the relief she felt knowing you were alive. How did they end up in such a mess? How was it possible that Vision had access to you? Or that he had found her and the twins?

So many questions, and Wanda was trying to gather her strength to fight. She could live with the idea of her dying or being taken away by Vision but her children…she had left the man to make sure they could grow in peace. They would have a chance.

Wanda waited with her heart at her throat, and her mind moving through different scenarios while Vision continued talking through the phone. 

The room was only filled with the sound of Vision's conversation with you, everyone had their eyes on him waiting. Making time.

Jarvis snarled into the phone, finally giving into his own pain and sitting down. Sweat rolled down his forehead, her hand was trembling while holding the phone against his ear.

“I am a businesswoman, Jarvis, so I have a proposal.”

You took a deep breath; you had rehearsed this speech before but it didn't mean you felt comfortable saying it out loud. Peggy nodded curtly at you; Logan was talking on the other line while Fury was snarling orders to two different teams right outside the van you were in. You waited to hear the laboured breath of the man at the other end of the line, your mind going to your sister, to Wanda, to Kate and the twins. You should have been stronger, you should have hit first and ask questions later, you should have…

A hand placed softly on your shoulder; Tony offered a single smile shaking his head. Your lower lip quivered but the man shook his head placing a hand on his chest before pointing a finger at you. You nodded, turning to face Peggy once more.

“I have resources, I have money…more than you can even imagine.”

“I can imagine a lot.” The man stated before adding, “but right now I am imagining my freedom, and my life…with my family, of course.”

“You don't need the kids, but you need Wanda and Agatha.” You made a face, scrunching up your nose paled and nauseous, “they can be bred and I can get you someone suitable for your tastes.”

Jarvis chuckled darkly, he glanced at Wanda putting his phone out of his ear and putting the conversation on speaker.

“Are you really telling me to leave my children and breed my wife again?” Jarvis smirked when Wanda's expression faltered at those words, “how fast is the affection you held for her.”

“Again, I deal with business, not so much emotions. I needed a good time, and Wanda offered that.” You closed your eyes before continuing, “I have a jet ready, a country without extradition and the means to make you rich, give you a new life and stop Kingpin from torturing you after you decided to steal from him.”

Wanda couldn't help but lowered her eyes at your words, she was confused but she also knew there was something else behind what you were saying. She had to hope, she had to wait. Jarvis shifted on the sofa, for the very first time since this whole mess started he finally took into consideration the woman that had come to him into this mess. Agatha approached him tentatively, her hand brushing his hair away from his face.

“Do you think it is true? Do you think she is offering a good deal?” The woman was not so sure, she had seen you beside Wanda and the twins, you looked pretty much in love with Wanda and this was a little fishy for her, but so far she had let Vision's lead the way and was not about to contradict him.

Jarvis tilted his head glancing with his good eye to the woman, he grabbed her by the hair crashing his lips to hers.

“What is the catch?” Jarvis finally asked and you chuckled.

“Let my sister and Kate Bishop go with the twins, the police are not going to stop you once you leave the house with Wanda and the other woman.” You stated flatly, your eyes burning with rage, “I will be your bargaining chip, they won't dare to hurt me or intervene in any way, and you will have access to my power, my money.”

Everyone in the room went silent, America opened her eyes shaking her head in disbelief with Kate frowning. Wanda felt dizzy, her heart dripping to her feet while she tried to wrap her mind around what you just said. Jarvis weighed his options, his good eye flickered to the kids and the teens, undoubtedly they would be too much dead weight to carry around while trying to get away from the police. Wanda was the easiest option, she and Agatha would obey Jarvis's instructions if necessary while also a great source of amusement for him. Besides, you were offering something equally interesting: yourself.

Could this be a trap? Yes, of course, but Jarvis bet he could play his cards carefully and get away with it. He could get freedom, money, and a new life.

“You have yourself a deal, Y/N but I will put the conditions to ensure I'm not double crossed.”

“Very well, tell me what conditions do you have?”

___________________

No one was speaking, your hand held the kevlar best with your eyes examining the article closely. Fury and Tony waited patiently for you, pursed on your lips telling the two men you were not convinced about using this for the mission. The bulletproof vest was body contoured built to adjust to your torso to offer the best protection, it was a near-fit of military engineering.

Still, you were not convinced.

Jarvis could notice the article, and everything they had been working for could fall down in a second. Besides, Wanda's life depended on you doing your job well.

“I won't do it, Wanda's life is still on the line.” You fault out refused the item putting on your jacket, your eyes glancing from Tony to Fury.

“Y/N, this is a dangerous mission and you're a civilian, you're being sent because…” Fury started for the tenth time, you lifted a single hand shutting him immediately, much to his surprise. 

“You got me and my family in this mess while keeping the identity of this maniac a secret.” There was a heavy huff behind your words, your stare hardening as you continued, “don't try to patronise me with this, you messed up and you need me, so I'll do this part my way.”

Fury rolled his sole eye ready to fight when Peggy Carter entered the trailer, her sharp eyes pinning you to the spot. 

*Everything is ready, are you sure you don't want the protection?” She asked curtly, you shook your head and after a second of hesitation Peggy nodded.

“Your car is right outside, you have your phone and the tracker and the teams are getting ready.” The older woman hesitated before stepping closer to you, “your sister is doing okay, she is being looked after by Hope and Natasha, the twin and Ms. Bishop is doing fine though a little scared.”

“Thank you for the update.” 

“You know the plan?”

You nodded curtly; the older woman smirked her eyes twinkling smartly at you.

“Then, let's move it.”

Jarvis had chosen an abandoned military station in the midst of a forgotten highway. The place had hosted the secret service working against the Nazis back in the 30’s, night was already there the lights of the cars had disappeared almost forty minutes ago while the radio finally gave in to the lack of signal. You drove fast, as fast as the speed limit and your car allowed it, your heart had not stopped beating with a constant thud with your mind going over and over through the plan that you had been subjected to by the authorities.

New year was closed now.

And Camp David was just around the corner.

The place looked empty, the gates had been opened recently and you could see a car parked in the distance the lights still on. Your body trembled with anticipation, the pain of your wounds pulsating through your senses keeping you awake while the night engulfed the place in a dark, and sinister silence. The car came to a stop with the lights falling upon the form of Edwin ‘Vision’ Jarvis, who was wearing the signs of the fight you two engaged in hours ago. Tension is quite obvious, the fact the man trusted you enough to come here without any questions was enough to tell you he was desperate. As much as you were.

The door of the car closed with a dry thump; your eyes shifted to Wanda who was sitting by the passenger’s seat trying to hold onto the tears while Agatha had a gun to her head. Vision smirked when he realized you kept your word of coming alone, of giving into his demands and getting him closer to the escape he needed to have his freedom filled with money and pleasure.

“You kept your word.”

“I am a woman of my word, Jarvis.” You replied limping towards the man, his smile grew nastier noticing the pain and the effort it took you to make your way towards him.

“So it seems.” Jarvis nodded to the car, and in that moment your eyes crossed for the very first time with those of Wanda. Something inside you stirred with violence, you wished you could go to her and comfort her, to tell her the children were fine and that everything would be fine.

But you couldn’t, and what you did was to drift your stare to go back to Jarvis.

“Very well then let’s get this over with, you and I need medical attention and I already have someone in mind.”

Without any warning he lifted his hand wrapping it around your neck and squeezing hard, “I think you are in no position to order me around.”

You lifted your chin holding onto his eyes, he made sure that his hand never left your throat until your face turned into a nasty red colour and your eyes filled with tears. He kept his grip on you, growling while putting his face closer to yours.

“Jarvis, please!” Your heart fluttered tenderly when your heard Wanda speaking, and you couldn’t help the curve on your lips when the man let go of you.

You took a deep breath massaging your neck, your eyes gleaming with anger and defiance, an expression Vision would have a pleasure to take off of you as soon as you kept your part of the bargain.

“I hope you know that if you double cross me or if you try something against me nor Agatha, Wanda will end up with a bullet in her head.”

You clenched your jaw tightly, nodding curtly while nodding towards the car. Jarvis snorted pushing you hard against the car opening the driver’s door.

“Come on, time is of essence right now.”

The car smell like blood and sweat, your eyes found those of Wanda and for a brief moment you could see the doubt in her green eyes, you could sense her fears and the uncertainty of the whole situation. Agatha huffed hitting Wanda with the gun, she then turned to you making a face of pure disgust.

The car was put into motion, you glanced out of the window while giving the directions to the closest private airport. Without a doubt, Jarvis knew his way around the seclude parts in the country, and while he didn’t fancy to have anyone know where he was about to go, it was quite obvious for him he needed you and this place to get away from the authorities. He didn’t trust you that much, if the police had arrived at your home he knew they would be looking for you and him after the scene at your place.  

Jarvis drove fast, erratically showing the signs of exhaustion and pain that had been consuming him all through the afternoon. You could see him losing the battle against his wounds and the state he was in, just as you could notice the craziness consuming the woman sitting beside you with the gun tightly pressed against Wanda’s head. The silence in the car was only interrupted by Jarvis ragged breathing, and the engine of the car.

Soon, and after more than an hour of driving you saw the gates leading to the private airport. The place was empty, the guard that was supposed to be watching over the gates was absent though the security hut held onto white light flickering from time to time. Jarvis stopped the car holding onto his grunts before turning his eyes to you.

“Well?”

You frowned leaning forward, your head turned left and right shrugging.

“The guard is not supposed to leave his post.” You commented softly, a sigh left your lips with your eyes flickering to Wanda, “I can try and see…”

“No, Agatha, give me the gun go and see who is in there and open the gate.”

Agatha hesitated before giving in and handing the gun to Jarvis, the man enjoyed the control he had over the women in the car. Not only did Wanda obey without protesting and was now as she had always been, quiet and submissive, but Agatha was ready to comply with all he needed and wanted and you…well, you were smart, you did nothing to jeopardy your security and that of Wanda, with time Jarvis would make sure to correct your sexual deviation while submitting you to him.

The place looked empty, though Jarvis could see the workers of the night shift filling out the hangars, small cars moving in and out before settling for the night. Everything looked quite normal, a night in a private airport in which charter planes waited for a new trip, you shifted in the back seat glancing around the place while directing Jarvis to the last entrance.

“When is the plane schedule to leave?” Jarvis asked glancing back at you through the rearview mirror, you furrowed your brows putting your phone from your pocket before handling it over to the man.

“Five minutes to midnight.”

“Why? Why so late?” Agatha asked with tension dripping from her voice.

Jarvis quirked a brow, he too was quite interested in the answer to such a question. He had never known of a plane to take off at such an hour, his eyes went back to the road taking close attention to everything and everyone making sure no one would dare to stop them.

“We need to justify the flight, I told the pilot I was needed it in Paris for a meeting.” You replied shrugging, “I told him I didn’t want to wait so he got the permissions and that’s the latest we could get.”

“Permission? I thought that you could fly whenever you want.” Agatha furrowed her brows, but it was Jarvis the one who laughed shaking his head.

“Don’t be an idiot, we need to ask for permission to take off, it’s not like grabbing a car or anything like that…” Jarvis then shrugged, “I did think it would be faster…”

You huffed rolling your eyes, “no, flying it is far more complicated than driving.”

“Very well, do we go in or stay outside?” Jarvis was approaching the last Hangar, he lifted his eyes to you.

“Let’s get in.”

The place was lit up by the white and yellowish lights of lamps hanging from the ceiling; the gate was completely open with the nose of the plane pointing to the runaway ready for the trip. Jarvis exited the car walking around to stretch his hand to Wanda, the young woman hesitated enough for him to lean in and gripped her forearm tightly. You tried to step closer but Agatha stood by your side pressing painfully the barrel of the gun on your ribs.

The place was alone, but the plane had the cabin door open with the stairs down waiting to be boarded.

“Look at the efficiency of your lover, dear.” Jarvis whispered in Wanda’s ear, “soon, you will know pain, and I won’t let you die until I have taken new children off of you. Until you are begging me to end your life.”

Wanda shivered clenching her jaw while keeping her eyes ahead of her, you shifted letting your eyes wandered around before settling on Jarvis. Out of the corner of your eye you saw movement in the cockpit, Agatha narrowed her eyes shifting uneasily at the silence in the room.

You worked hard on what you were supposed to do, Jarvis needed to go inside the cabin with Agatha but Wanda was a problem. You saw movement inside the plane once more, and you could feel eyes on you.

“We can wait inside the plane,” you suddenly offered, your voice trembling while you grabbed the phone, “I can call the pilot asking where he is.”

Jarvis frowned turning to you, “why is he not here?”

“I don’t know? Maybe you can ask him when he comes,” you replied harshly earning yourself a hard hit from the gun Agatha was holding, you were seeing stars while trying to hold onto your consciousness.

“I would hold back my tongue if I were you, Agatha doesn’t appreciate rudeness, much less if it is directed against me.” Jarvis commented approaching you, he snatched the phone off of your hands narrowing his eyes he tried to see that your communications were being done with the pilot.

He read the messages, his hand clenching into the mobile when he caught sight of those messages you had exchanged with Wanda.

“Very well, I think I need a drink, I hope you have a good whiskey inside.”

You scowled lifting your chin, “I do.”

Your heart was beating really hard, so far you had only seen one gun and it was the one that Agatha had been flashing all night threatening Wanda and then you. Your eyes drifted quickly to the cockpit and then to the back office in the Hangar. Your muscles tensed in anticipation, counting in your mind so as to distracted yourself from the growing anxiety inside your chest.

You followed Jarvis who pushed Wanda ahead of him, then he went behind her and Agatha staggered behind you. From the moment she arrived to the airport, Agatha had felt uneasy; there was just something so…strange about this. It was so easy, without any unwanted encounters.

Silence filled the place, you took a deep breath.

You trusted Fury and Peggy and all the forces that had filled out your building were capable of doing what they said they would without harming anyone. Your eyes flickered again to the cockpit window, this time around you could see the reflection of someone wearing military gear inside, then the swift movement in the back office and you knew you would need to get to Wanda before Jarvis could do something.

Behind you, and totally forgotten, was Agatha.

The woman that had obsessed over Jarvis, ready to do his biding as long as she got to enjoy a piece pf affection from him. She grabbed the gun, her eyes going big as saucers when they caught sight of someone inside the plane.

Everything happened in a second.

Wanda and Jarvis crossed the threshold of the plane’s gate, with you almost putting a foot on the stairs when the woman shrieked for Jarvis to come down. She grabbed you by your hair pulling hard, while Jarvis having heard and understood the meaning behind such a scream grabbed Wanda by her neck punching her several times on the ribs and abdomen making sure his grip on her was tight almost to the point of choking.

“GO! GO! GO!”

You grunted struggling against the older woman, your elbow finding her abdomen hitting her hard until she had to let go of your hair. You heard more than saw the screams and heavy footsteps moving towards you, you turned around hearing Wanda’s gasp and tiny scream for help.

“NOO!”

Agatha screamed and then, you stood there…

You didn’t even register the sound of the gun.

But you felt the bite from the bullet, the burning pain running through your body. And then, you knew no more.

______________________________________________________________

Next Chapter: Wanda can't sleep, the twins don't know how to deal and America is trying to hold it together. What is the price of happiness?

[ashitakaxsan]

🎉Franky: The Unsung Hero of Spy x Family 🕵️‍♂️💥

Franky Franklin seemed like the goofy, lighthearted informant in Spy x Family, but Chapter 105 shows how much rigorous training he underwent. Besides the humor and awkward moments, Franky is a man who plays many roles—some light, some heavy, all vital to the mission and to those around him.

On a day that feels almost ordinary for Franky, we see him waking up in the morning to Japanese karakuri. Interestingly also he starts his morning ritual by enjoying listening to government-banned music. 🎉 🌟 As a well-functioning informant he listens to Fiona Chan's request for a "forged pass for the Podam School of Science. Cool that agent Nightfall(our cute, lovable Kuudere is here) has absolutely recovered after the fight against Mole Wheeler. And he's got the guts to remind her how has wants to be treated :)

and a man still holding out hope for love. His day starts with babysitting Anya, a task that, for anyone else, would be overwhelming. But for him, it’s just another part of his vigilant life. His relationship with Anya is one of the most endearing parts of his character—he’s her goofy uncle figure, someone who can make her laugh and doesn’t mind stepping up when needed. The man is a solid uncle figure, he makes it where Yuri simply fails. 🎭✨

As he takes the fee he goes to invest the money to a bet in horse races, but he's unlucky.

So he's up again to get info about any lucky route. that's when he hears the bad news from the teller. The only informant regarding access to gates 4 and above, Latchkey Lachy(whoever he is) got arrested by the always-feared force throughout Ostania, the SSS! So there's the looming menace of the Secret police.

What’s striking is his relentless optimism—even in the face of constantly changing hideouts and near-constant danger, Franky holds onto the hope that one day, he’ll find love. That's why now he's on a date with a familiar girl, Priscilla, and they'll go to watch a movie.

It’s this mix of resilience and vulnerability that makes him so relatable. He’s a man living in the shadows, often overlooked, but still working to hold onto the idea that there’s more to life than just survival.

Suddenly the news comes: Their teller is arrested "by the you-know-who": The SSS who has him, and Franky has to act quickly to save him.

The way Franky charges in and saves him is Amazing: He steps up prepared, with an effective plan as a real spy, saving the teller from the clutches of the SSS.🕵️‍♂️🛡️👧

The seeming "flower bouquet" is actually a pistole of smoke gas to make the SSS interrogators lose their focus, briefly and it works!

Watch this. How he gives them an awful time:

As they see the SSS reinforcements arriving he says: "They're welcome to try. But I'm going to show them just how hard catching rats can be!" With goggles for concealment, he fights them, using a real handgun, he presses a secret button to open a hatch, and they escape with his well big balloon:)!

This is Franky at his best—quick and profound thinking, resourceful, and willing to risk everything for the people he cares about. In this moment, we see his true heroism. He may not have the physical strength of Yor, but Franky's improved, worthy peer of Twilight. He’s a man who understands the dangers of the world he’s in, yet continues to put himself on the line.

Then he listens to Priscilla, about how she has found a boy to chaperone to the movies.🤔💔 Despite the disappointment, he calls it a good day.

Thus he and the teller go to watch a romance movie:

"How did he get so determined for the rigorous training?" you'll ask me the question.

The failings for finding love didn't get the better of him, so he made up his mind: To become someone as effective as the two people he's looking up to: Twilight and Nightfall.💪🕵️‍♂️🤔

Franky’s ability to juggle these different aspects of his life—his spy duties, his loyalty to his friends, and his optimism for happiness—makes him one of the most vital characters in Spy x Family. He reminds us that even the seemingly ordinary people in a story filled with super spies and assassins can have profound, heroic moments.

[thenatashamaximoff]

Whispers In The Dark; Ch. 2

Summary: When a casual one-night stand develops into a deeper, forbidden love, you and Wanda try to keep your relationship a secret as you navigate the challenges of balancing your growing emotions with the fear of being caught.

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Warnings: 18+ (nsfw), mentions of death

Words: 6,174

✎ | ❁

┌─────────────ᗢ─────────────┐ @diaryoflife​ @women-am-i-right​ @creatively-analytical​ @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @beforeoursecrets​ @iliketozoneout​ @olsensnpm​ @hoefnagel521 @chasingmaximoff  └─────────────ᗢ─────────────┘ ┌─────────────∞─────────────┐ @myfavoriteficss @pinkytoecrust @cyncity32 @romanoffomixam @peachbear88 @magicallymaximoff @therealmeari @peggycarter-steverogers @ba-romanoff @natashabelovas @morbid-gaymer @reminiscingtonight @when-wolves-howl @idontknownemore​ @natashasilverfox @sayah13 @fuxk182 @scarletwitchofthewilds @natashamaximoff69 @wuwu96 @jsonebraincell​ @whendarknessturns​ @marvel4liferz @red1culous​  └─────────────∞─────────────┘

“Yes, sir.” You seemed to have stopped listening for a while now. You weren’t sure what he had said. The words had jumbled in your mind, making it difficult to comprehend the meaning behind them. You wondered if you had even articulated your response clearly, or if it had come out as unintelligible gibberish. It was as if the random noise in the back of your throat had escaped, mimicking speech without conveying any coherent message.

On the desk in front of you, Alexander Pierce’s face appeared on the computer screen. As your boss and the higher authority within the organization, his presence demanded attention and respect. Yet… you were struggling to do just that. For what was probably the gazillionth time in the span of twenty minutes, your eyes slowly shifted away from the virtual meeting to land on the folder resting amidst the scattered papers that littered the desk’s surface. Wanda Maximoff’s name was emblazoned in bold, black ink on the tab, enticing your curiosity. It seemed that the comprehensive dossier on her had arrived just before this unexpected meeting commenced. You hadn’t had a chance to explore its contents, as other pressing matters took precedence. 

You had hoped that it would’ve faded into the recesses of your mind, much like the other neglected folders resting amidst the sea of unpacked boxes in your apartment. Yet, its persistent presence refused to be ignored, exerting what felt like a gravitational pull on your thoughts, compelling you to explore its hidden contents.

The allure of the folder became too enticing to resist any longer. With a mix of curiosity and trepidation, you reached out… but the moment your fingers grazed it, you were snapped back to attention by the mere sound of her name rolling off of Alexander Pierce’s tongue. “It has come to my attention that you sent Wanda Maximoff on a highly sensitive operation this morning.”

“Yes, sir.” The fog that had clouded your thoughts began to dissipate, replaced by a renewed sense of alertness. You recalled the mission you had assigned her earlier, a covert operation of significant importance. “The assignment involved retrieving Loki Laufeyson, Thor’s brother,” you explained, making sure your words were clear and coherent this time. “Agent Maximoff’s unique abilities made her a valuable asset for the task. As far as I’m concerned, she executed it with precision and achieved the objective successfully. The man in question is sitting in one of our… rigged capsules.”

Pierce’s scrutinizing gaze remained fixed on you, his expression unreadable. “I hope you understand the gravity of the situation, Director,” he stated sternly. “Not only are Maximoff’s powers still relatively unknown and untested, but she also has a past that makes it difficult to trust her. We cannot afford any mishaps or breaches in security.”

You maintained a composed demeanor, acknowledging the seriousness of Pierce’s concerns. “I understand the gravity of the situation, sir,” you assured in a steady voice. “While Agent Maximoff’s powers may be unfamiliar to us, she has demonstrated her loyalty and commitment to the mission. Her past may raise questions, but she has been thoroughly vetted and deemed fit for the task.”

Pierce’s expression remained wary, but a hint of curiosity flickered in his eyes. “Vetting can only provide limited assurances,” he cautioned. “We must tread carefully when dealing with individuals of such complex backgrounds. Their loyalties can… shift unpredictably.” His eyes were guarded behind a steely look as his words hung in the air, underscoring the delicate nature of the situation and the potential risks involved.

You met his gaze head-on, unyielding in your resolve as a determined spark ignited within you. “I’m well aware of the risks, sir,” you responded firmly, your tone brimming with conviction. “Agent Maximoff’s past may be complicated, but her actions thus far have shown dedication and commitment. She successfully apprehended Loki under the radar. I entrusted her with a mission, and she exceeded all expectations.” Leaning forward, you rested your elbows against the top of the desk, emphasizing your earnestness. “I understand the need for caution, sir, but how can we expect someone to earn trust if they’re never given the opportunity?”

You could’ve sworn you caught Pierce’s expression softening, but he was quick to catch it, steeling himself once more. “You have an optimistic view of her,” he remarked, though his wariness remained visible in his tone. “Just ensure that your optimism doesn’t blind you to potential threats. Keep a close eye on her, Director.”

“I will exercise vigilance, sir,” you assured him. “The safety and integrity of this organization are my utmost priorities. We will monitor her closely and act accordingly should any concerns arise.” As you spoke, your attention was momentarily captured by the sound of your office door swinging open and then closing. Your heart quickened its pace when you watched Wanda confidently stride into the room, maintaining eye contact over the top of the laptop while sitting against the arm of the couch, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. The intense energy between you was palpable, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of anticipation.

Pierce’s voice brought you back to the present, jolting you out of the spell Wanda’s presence had cast. “Very well, Director,” he acknowledged, his tone authoritative. “I trust your ability to handle this matter with the necessary caution. Keep me informed of any significant developments.”

You nodded in response, slightly struggling to keep your voice steady and determined, “Yes, sir.”

With those parting words, the screen flickered and Pierce’s presence dissipated, ultimately allowing you to turn your gaze back to Wanda, who was still resting against the couch, a small, enigmatic smile playing on her lips. You closed the laptop slowly, deliberately, allowing yourself a moment to collect your thoughts. The room seemed to buzz with an electric charge, and the intensity of the connection between you and Wanda lingered in the air. 

No matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you knew you had to… you couldn’t deny the magnetic pull between the two of you.

“I wasn’t aware I had an open-door policy, Miss Maximoff,” you remarked. As you casually adjusted your position, leaning back in your chair, your arm subtly slid across the desk with your movement, purposefully disrupting the already-scattered pile of papers to conceal the folder containing her dossier.

She chuckled softly, lowly, yet you heard it all too well. “Well, Director, I couldn’t resist the temptation to see you in action,” she replied, her voice carrying a teasing undertone.

A playful spark seemed to ignite within you, and you found yourself leaning forward just as she was slowly moving to stand. “Is that so?” you retorted, a glimmer of excitement unwillingly dancing in your eyes. “Perhaps I should enforce stricter rules then.”

Wanda’s smirk grew more pronounced, and she began closing the distance between you with calculated steps. “Or maybe,” she offered, her voice low and suggestive, “we can find another way to bend them just a little.”

Your eyes darted to the laptop, remnants of the video call with Alexander Pierce slipping into your mind. The weight of your responsibilities bore down on you, reminding you of the delicate balance you had to maintain within the organization. The lines between professional conduct and personal inclinations blurred in the presence of Wanda Maximoff.

The air crackled with suspense as she rounded the desk, pushing against the top of your chair until you were fully facing her. Once again, the weight of responsibility is completely forgotten. Your jaw dropped open, a word on the tip of your tongue, yet no sounds could be heard when Wanda gently lowered herself onto you, straddling your lap as her fingers gripped the back of your neck. Your movements were automatic, your hands resting on her hips as you seemed to have trouble looking away from her emerald irises. 

“Wanda…” You were trying to say her name with authority, trying to warn her that she shouldn’t be doing this, but your body sold you out. Instead, you said her name wanton, as if you were begging for more because, fight as hard as you can, Y/N, you did want more.

And her low, breathy chuckle told you she knew that, too. “I told you,” she whispered, bending slightly so her lips brushed your ear. “I was more than willing to wait to finish thoroughly.” She took your earlobe in between her teeth just as she drove her hips against you, pulling a gasp from your throat while your stomach twisted like a coil.

Your grip on her waist tightened with need, and you gave in to the feeling pushing against you. With one quick maneuver, your lips were pressed into hers, swallowing her moans as your hands guided her rutting. Your insides throbbed with desire, your fingers danced up her shirt as she took over her own motions, and the way she moaned your name into your ear had you gasping. You turned in the chair, Wanda bracing herself against the desk behind her, and the movement seemed to brush some of the scattered papers off of your desk and to the floor.

“Touch me, Y/N,” she whispered, panted, begged. It sent shivers up your spine.

You obliged, allowing the tips of your fingers to ride the supple surface of her abdomen until they reached the hem of her bra. The skin under the garment was warm, and she was groaning the moment your touch skirted over the area she desired to be touched the most. Her chin tilted back as you leaned forward, exposing her neck to give you more access as your lips brushed across it like a feather. 

“Wanda, I’m…” Your words trailed off as a sudden clap of thunder reverberated through the air, jolting you back to reality. The sound seemed to echo in your ears, its intensity leaving you slightly unnerved, yet Wanda appeared unfazed by the disturbance. The moment you pulled back, she pushed forward, pressing her lips to the soft skin just underneath your jaw. It was like flipping a switch, plunging back into the captivating allure of Wanda’s touches and the sensations they bring. However, reality wasn’t going to let go of you that easily, reclaiming its hold as a series of sharp and loud knocks resounded throughout the room.

Unlike earlier, Wanda wasn’t as willing to part ways this time. She released a deep, irritated breath as she swiftly climbed off your lap mere moments before the door opened. A woman popped her head into the room, her eyes bouncing back and forth between you and Wanda for a moment before finally settling on you. She looked familiar, her name making an uncomfortable itch appear in the back of your mind as she fully entered the room.

“Ma’am,” her voice broke through the hazy enchantment, serving as a reminder of the woman’s identity. You recalled her from earlier in the day, realizing that she had requested your signature for… something, yet her name seemed to elude your memory. “There’s an urgent matter that requires your immediate attention.”

You pressed your lips together, scratching the back of your neck before you moved to stand up. Now that Wanda’s body wasn’t pumping adrenaline through you, exhaustion seems to be sneaking up on you pretty quickly. It was evident in your eyes, but your movements didn’t lack confidence as you followed the woman (whose name you can’t remember for some awful reason).

As she guided you down the corridors of the compound, the clamor of raised voices grew louder. Surely this was the urgent matter the woman had mentioned.

Rounding the corner, a scene unfolded before you - a swarm of SHIELD agents surrounding a central figure, their attention fixated on the source of the commotion. It was none other than Thor Odinson, radiating an unmistakable aura of anger and frustration at the heart of the gathering.

“I demand for my brother to be released at once!” he commanded, his furrowed brows displaying deep frustration and determination. His body turned, eyes searching the growing crowd, seeking an authoritative figure. “Loki belongs in the prisons of Asgard, not held captive in some mere human penitentiary! Show me to him!”

“That’s not happening,” you declared, the sea of agents parting at the sound of your voice. It was instant that Thor’s piercing blue eyes snapped onto you, eyeing the way you stood as tall as you could with your hands gripping your hips, projecting an air of superiority. “Your brother stands accused of grave crimes against humanity. He is required by law to face consequences, whether or not he is a god or the adopted brother of one.”

“And he shall see to those consequences on Asgard.”

“He didn’t seem to last very long in your prison,” you countered, your arms firmly crossing over your chest as you held your ground. The tension in the hall thickened as your words hung in the air “Considering he’s here and not there, did he get early release for good behavior?” Thor’s eyes narrowed, his gaze intensifying, while faint chuckles floated from the onlookers. Your focus remained on his intimidating presence. The soft laughter ceased just as quickly as it came to be, swallowed by the weight of the situation when he took a small yet heavy step forward, his expression becoming sterner.

“Where’s Fury?” Thor’s voice was laced with a mix of suspicion and urgency. The mention of the former director’s absence seemed to ignite a spark of concern within him.

You cleared your throat, your tone unwavering as you met Thor’s fiery gaze. “He’s no longer with us. Unfortunately for you, Mr. Odinson, that puts me in charge.” Authority floated around you as you stepped forward with confidence despite the anger displayed on his face. “Loki stays here.”

The area grew quiet, the anticipation hanging thick in the air. All eyes were fixed upon the clash of wills between you and Thor, the atmosphere crackled with tension as the two of you stood locked in a silent battle of determination. The fate of Loki hung in the balance, and it was clear that both of you were determined to defend your respective positions.

“Loki is my brother. My responsibility,” Thor announced, his voice growing deeper and more forceful. “I’m not leaving until he is at my side, and anyone who stands in my way will face their own consequences.” The agents in the room exchanged uneasy glances, recognizing the potential for conflict that loomed before them. Some even slowly moved their hands to rest on their sidearms, and you could feel your stomach twisting tautly with nerves. Hopefully, it doesn’t come down to that.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself against the mounting pressure. It was clear that Thor’s determination had escalated, and finding a peaceful resolution would be an uphill battle. But you couldn’t allow the situation to escalate into violence or compromise the safety of those nearby. “I understand the bond you share with Loki, Mr. Odinson,” you finally said, your tone steady despite the growing tension, “but we cannot allow personal attachments to undermine our duty and the security of innocent lives. We must consider the results of releasing Loki into an environment where he has proven to be a threat.”

Your decision was met with an intense gaze, his grip on Mjolnir tightening, sparks of electricity crackling around him. The crowd held its breath, awaiting his next move.

“Stand aside,” Thor growled, his voice filled with anger and resolve, “or face the full fury of a god.”

Your heart raced rapidly, beating against your chest as he seemed to stand taller before you, but you stood your ground, refusing to be intimidated. “Violence is not the answer.” You lifted a hand in an attempt to calm him down as you added, “We must find a way to resolve this without causing harm to anyone.”

The air seemed to tremble with the unspoken clash between the two of you. The agents watched on, their loyalty divided between their duty and the power emanating from Thor. At that moment, you realized that finding a compromise would be even more challenging than anticipated. The fate of Loki, the security of the organization, and the potential for a confrontation hung in the balance, awaiting a resolution that could satisfy both duty and familial bonds.

Heavy silence suffocated you as Thor’s gaze bore through you, his muscles tensed and ready for action. It wasn’t a debate anymore, it was a standoff. A battle of wills that threatened to tip over into chaos. The weight of the decision rested upon your shoulders, and the outcome would shape the course of events to come.

It was a moment of unexpected intervention. As Thor attempted to wield his hammer, a surge of red energy surrounded his wrist, hindering his progress. His mighty strength rendered ineffective against the force, causing his brows to knit together with rage, his pupils narrowing even further to mere crumbs. His gaze shifted behind you, and you turned to witness Wanda, her eyes ablaze with a fiery crimson hue, exerting her own power to counter Thor’s aggression. You found your stomach uncoiling when she met your stare with a soft, easy smile.

Hushed whispers filled the air as the two powerful beings struggled against each other, the agents watching in awe and apprehension, unsure of how this unexpected turn of events would unfold.

“Release me!” Thor’s voice boomed, his demand filled with indignation and defiance.

You felt a renewed sense of empowerment surge within you, a willful smirk curling your lips. The tables had turned, and you held the upper hand for now. With a determined gaze, you stood your ground, undeterred by Thor’s wrath. “Not until you calm down,” you declared, voice steady and commanding. It was a bold move, challenging the god of thunder himself, but you were resolute in your stance. The safety of everyone involved and the preservation of order was paramount.

Thor’s expression shifted from anger to incredulity, his eyebrows furrowing deeper as he grappled with the unexpected resistance he faced. The room crackled with charged energy, the clash between power and authority hanging in the balance. “I’m calm,” he finally said.

Wanda’s crimson eyes locked with yours once more, a silent understanding passing between you. She released her hold on him, and Thor straightened his form as his eyes danced back to you. He stared at you for a moment, feeling as if he were sizing you up, or as if he were forming another plan in that brain of his to get his brother back. Either way, you didn’t back down.

“Very well,” he conceded, his voice tinged with disappointment. “But know this, Director, I will be watching closely.” He turned on his heels, the crowd of agents instantly parting to give way as he marched away. The presence of the Asgardian gradually faded, his departure leaving behind a lingering sense of tension in the room.

You nodded, clapping your hands together while you announced, “Back to work, everybody.” As the agents returned to their normal rhythm, dispersing to resume their duties, the weight of the confrontation slowly lifted from your shoulders. You turned to fully face Wanda, but your gaze slowly drifted to Coulson lingering behind her in time to catch his small nod before he left.

“That was very impressive,” Wanda mused, struggling to hide the mischievous smirk that played upon her lips. With each sly step she took towards you, your heart quickened its pace, climbing up to your throat, unable to escape the intensity of the moment. The darkening depths of her eyes added an electrifying allure, casting a spell upon your senses. “It takes a special kind of courage to challenge a god, especially one consumed by anger.”

The surge of pride coursed through your veins, straightening your posture and bolstering your confidence. With a casual shrug, you maintained an air of nonchalance, even as you found yourself drawn closer to her magnetic presence. “I wouldn’t be a very good director if I cowered away at mere inconveniences, Miss Maximoff.”

She responded with a whimsical hum, her playful head tilt accompanied by the tantalizing sight of her teeth capturing her bottom lip. Her eyes glistened with desire, casting a bewitching spell that ensnared your senses. Lost in the haze of her allure, your arm instinctively reached out, compelled to gently sweep away the stray strands of hair that adorned her cheek. For a fleeting moment, you forgot your surroundings - that you weren’t in the solitude of your office, nor the seclusion of her apartment - until an abrupt chirp shattered the illusion. Your phone, a stark reminder of reality, jolted you back to your senses. Like a switch being flipped, full control over yourself snapped back, causing your breath to hitch in your throat as you hastily stepped away from her. The passionate darkness in her emerald irises wavered, replaced by a tinge of disappointment as you cleared your throat, forcing yourself to avert your gaze and reach for your phone.

The spell was broken, and the weight of your responsibilities crashed back down upon you when you read your boss’s name on the screen, serving as a harsh reminder of the boundaries that needed to be maintained. The boundaries you are constantly neglecting.

“Excuse me, Miss Maximoff, but duty calls,” you uttered, your voice betraying a hint of reluctance. As you lifted your eyes to meet hers once more, a strange sensation washed over you, causing your legs to momentarily falter. Lost within the depths of her captivating gaze, you found yourself trapped in a trance unlike any before. The usual desires, seductive playfulness, and mischievous glints were replaced with something different - something softer, more powerless.

In that brief instance, vulnerability danced in the depths of her eyes, as if revealing a hidden side that had previously remained concealed. It tugged at your heartstrings, stirring a mix of emotions within you. The allure remained, but it was laced with a yearning for connection and understanding. It was a vulnerable invitation, silently pleading for you to acknowledge the unspoken depths of her being.

However, duty compelled you to tear yourself away from the enchanting pull. With a resolute sigh, you mustered the strength to regain control over your legs, willing them to move forward. Yet, the memory of that moment lingered in the recesses of your mind, leaving an indelible mark upon you.

You could feel her eyes on the back of your head as you walked away.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ᗢ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Come in,” you announced automatically, barely lifting your gaze from the papers scattered across your desk. The routine had become second nature to you: someone knocked, you acknowledged their presence, signed whatever document they presented, and swiftly dismissed them. Your hand instinctively reached out to receive the clipboard, expecting the familiar weight of papers to land in your palm. But the footsteps approaching your desk seemed unusually slow, causing a flicker of curiosity to interrupt your monotonous rhythm.

Lifting your head, you found yourself locking eyes with Coulson. To your surprise, his hands were empty, folded neatly across his chest as he fixed an expectant gaze upon you. The absence of paperwork left you momentarily puzzled, prompting a question to escape your lips. 

“Am I missing something here?” He maintained his composed stance, the air in the room growing heavy with unspoken revelations, and the gravity of the moment enveloped you. “Out with it, Coulson,” you pressed.

“Mr. Pierce is waiting for you in the conference room.” He met your gaze steadily, clearing his throat as he patiently waited for your mind to process his words.

Confusion furrowed your brows for a brief moment before surprise widened your eyes as you frantically sifted through the papers on your desk, searching for your phone. Desperation laced your voice as you hastily denied the imminent arrival. “No, he’s not due until tomorrow,” you protested, a touch of desperation seeping into your words. “It’s-”

“Ten in the morning.” Coulson interrupted your frantic search, his head tilting to the side as he observed your panicked movements. The unspoken thoughts that passed between you were evident in his expression. No, you hadn’t gone home. No, you hadn’t slept. Yes, you were doing all this paperwork Pierce sent over last night. Yes, your mind had been consumed with thoughts of Wanda Maximoff. The weight of your responsibilities and the unanticipated turn of events collided, leaving you reeling with a mix of exhaustion, longing, and apprehension.

In the corner of your eye, a glimmer caught your attention, obscured beneath the papers on your desk. Relief washed over you as you successfully fished your phone out of the chaotic pile. However, any fleeting sense of triumph swiftly dissipated when you glanced at the screen. Coulson’s words echoed in your mind, confirming Pierce’s untimely arrival and a wave of anxiety surged through you. The details of this meeting eluded you as if shrouded by a foggy haze.

Without a second though, you sprang to your feet with such haste that your chair careened into the wall behind you. The loud thud punctuated the urgency of the situation, emphasizing the disarray that mirrored your racing thoughts. Time seemed to accelerate as you quickly gathered your composure, determined to face the impending meeting, even if you couldn’t recall its purpose.

You exited the room, the door slowly sliding shut behind you, leaving your deputy director alone. However, it didn’t take long for a realization to dawn upon you, prompting a swift about-face. Sheepishly, you poked your head back into the office, a contrite smile adorning your face. “Where’s the conference room?” His finger pointed in the direction you needed to go, and with a nod of gratitude, you swiftly disappeared once more, determined to find your way to the meeting.

Upon reaching the conference room door, the sound of laughter emanating from within caused your muscles to tense up. One laugh was unmistakably Pierce’s, characterized by its gruffness and rigidity. However, the other laughter resonated deep within you, igniting a warmth in your gut that was undeniable. The mere sound of her laugh had the power to captivate you, making you hesitate to open the door and disrupt the harmonious melody unfolding on the other side. But you quickly snapped out of your daze, remembering that Wanda Maximoff should not be engaged in friendly conversation with your boss.

With resolve, you entered the room and confirmed your instincts. Wanda was indeed immersed in a cheerful conversation with Alexander Pierce, both of them sporting smiles. You forced one of your own, but as soon as you met those sparkling green eyes, your grin became authentic. “What’s going on in here?” you inquired, closing the distance to the occupied table.

“There you are, Director. Please, take a seat and join us,” Pierce greeted with unexpected cheerfulness, a major difference from the stern man you’d spoken to through the computer not that long ago. He gestured toward the seat next to Wanda, and you reluctantly settled into the chair while attempting to maintain a noticeable distance from the woman. “Where have you been hiding this one from us?” He looked toward Wanda, whose face had grown brighter when she saw you. “She’s an absolute delight! And she’s already ours for the taking.” Soft laughter lingered in his voice, leaving you intrigued about their earlier conversation.

The sight of Pierce’s ease and comfort with Wanda - as if they were old friends - immediately after issuing a strict order for you to monitor her due to a lack of trust in the new Avenger sent waves of unease rippling through you. It was disconcerting to witness such a stark contrast in his behavior, as if the order had been mere words with no real significance. Your mind raced with questions, trying to comprehend the motives behind his contradictory actions. Did he genuinely trust Wanda more than he let on? Or was there a hidden agenda at play? Doubt gnawed at you.

Wanda chimed in playfully, answering on your behalf while keeping her eyes trained on you, “Oh, Y/N just loves keeping me for herself.” However, as she spoke, Pierce’s demeanor shifted abruptly, returning to his usual strict professionalism. He studied Wanda intently, causing her to divert her gaze from you to meet his scrutinizing one. A knot of anticipation formed in your stomach as you watched him silently analyze her.

He cleared his throat, shaking his head for a moment before turning to you. “I’m impressed by how you handled the Loki situation,” he confessed. A glimmer of pride shone in his eyes, contrasting with his rugged expression. “It was your first assignment, a significant one at that, not to mention. To be honest, I wasn’t sure you had what it took, but I’m not one to shy away from admitting I was wrong.”

Leaning forward, Wanda placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and spoke, her voice filled with admiration, “It’s only been a day, but I think Y/N’s been doing a wonderful job so far.” This time, your smile remained forced as you subtly shifted your shoulder, discreetly removing her hand from your touch under Pierce’s watchful eyes.

“I can handle anything thrown at me, sir,” you commented in an attempt to divert his attention.

He cleared his throat, his eyes dancing back and forth between you and Wanda for a quiet, tense moment before asking, “Do you let all your agents call you by your first name?”

“No, sir-”

“I don’t see how that’s really relevant here,” she interrupted, not mincing her words. You swallowed the thick saliva that had formed in your throat, the knot in your gut beginning to grow tighter. “I believe that she-”

“Agent Maximoff,” you interjected swiftly, your voice firm, trying to regain control of the situation. You avoided meeting her eyes as they flickered toward you. “That’ll be all for now.” The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, with Wanda watching you, Pierce observing her, and you staring at the table, desperate to dodge all eyes.

“Yes, Director.” You winced subtly at the tone of her voice, ultimately telling you that she was not pleased with your dismissal. Surely she wasn’t one to hold a grudge over something so minute… right? 

Pierce adjusted his suit jacket as she made her way out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. The sound of the door closing resonated in the quiet before his voice finally cut through it, “I’m not questioning your ability to do this job, Director.”

“Hasn’t even crossed my mind, sir,” you assured.

“I mean, you’re the first female lead since the fifties. I have the right to be cautious.” His smile appeared forced, lacking the sincerity it held when you first entered the room. The tension returned, and he seemed to fully revert to his usual self. “I came here to ask about your plans with Loki.”

“We have him contained in a specially designed confinement capsule aboard the Helicarrier,” you began, your voice steady and composed. “The cell is equipped with a failsafe. Any attempts to escape or breach the containment will trigger a rapid descent mechanism, dropping whoever is in the cell a significant distance.” You glanced at Pierce, ensuring that he was following your explanation. His eyes narrowed slightly, indicating his focus on the matter at hand. “I made it clear to Loki about the consequences of any efforts of escape,” you continued. “The knowledge of imminent death should serve as a deterrent and discourage any further disruptions or attempts to regain his freedom. My plan for Loki is to keep him imprisoned to prevent any further damage to Earth.”

Pierce nodded, slow and precise movements, but you sensed by the way he leaned back that he was ready to voice his concerns. “You want to keep him locked up for the rest of time?” He scoffed, a humorless laugh crawling out of his throat as he shook his head. “Loki has caused substantial damage to New York, costing us billions of dollars.”

“He has also taken just as many innocent lives,” you quickly claimed. “It’s not about the money, sir. People-”

“That’s beside the point,” he interrupted. “Keeping him locked up isn’t enough.”

Your eyebrows knitted together deeply as you eyed him, trying to get a good read on his face, but he was a closed book with no chance of getting it to open. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not sure I understand what you’re implying.”

Pierce’s gaze solidified, his tone growing more serious. “What I’m implying, Director, is that simply containing Loki isn’t a long-term solution. We need to consider more permanent measures to ensure he can never pose a threat again.”

A flicker of concern crossed your face as you contemplated the weight of his words. “Are you suggesting…?”

He leaned forward, his voice lowered. “I’m suggesting we explore options for a more definitive resolution,” he explained.

Your breath caught in the back of your throat, the earnestness of his proposition sinking in. “You’re talking about… terminating Loki?”

His expression remained impassive, but there was an underlying intensity in his eyes. “I didn’t propose such an extreme measure, Director.” He shrugged loosely, a sly smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Loki is a prideful god. He views humans as insignificant and feeble creatures. It’s only a matter of time before his arrogance is bound to make him disregard your warnings and… attempt to escape his rigged prison. If he chooses that path, we cannot be held accountable.”

You paused, allowing his words to sink in, fully aware of the subtle subtext beneath his statement. It was a strategic maneuver to absolve himself and the organization of any responsibility. By framing Loki’s demise as a consequence of his own pretentious choices, he aimed to keep your - and his own - hands free from the stain of his blood.

The knot in your stomach - the one you had thought had dispersed at Wanda’s departure - reappeared, only this time it launched itself into your throat. The way his eyes gleamed with a sinister glint made you feel nauseous. “Sir, I understand the severity of Loki’s actions, but we must also remember our duty to uphold the principles of justice and due process. We cannot become judge, jury, and executioner,” you argued.

His gaze bore into yours, his voice unwavering, “We can’t afford to let sentimentality cloud our judgment. Loki has proven time and again that he is a danger to global security. We must be willing to consider all options, even if they are difficult.”

The weight of his words pressed upon you, and you knew you weren’t going to convince him otherwise no matter how hard you fought. Still, you didn’t plan on giving in so easily just yet. “Then we must exhaust all alternatives, explore advanced containment methods, and leverage our resources to ensure the safety of both our agents and the world.”

Pierce’s face hardened, the lines etched deeper into his features. “Director,” he began, folding his hands on top of the table between you and him, “there will come a point where we have exhausted all options. Don’t you think it’d be a waste of time, resources, and money to only end up at the same outcome?” He smiled lightly, a wicked tinge to the expression. “We cannot shy away from that possibility.”

Your eyes locked with his, a silent battle of principles and pragmatism. You had gone head to head with the God of Thunder and won. Yet, here you were, butting heads with a mortal man and on the verge of losing. “I refuse to believe that we must sacrifice our values is the only path to achieving the greater good. It is our duty to explore other solutions, to seek justice and preserve life - all lives. We cannot embrace the mindset that justifies shedding blood. There must always be a line we will not cross.”

His gaze softened ever so slightly, a flicker of begrudging respect crossing his features. “I must admit, Director, your unwavering dedication is commendable.” However, the smile that lingered on his lips revealed his underlying satisfaction. It was evident that you had officially lost this battle, succumbing to his ability to see to it that you would never step foot inside a SHIELD building for the rest of your life. “I expect a comprehensive report in my email by the end of the week.” He swiftly rose from his seat, adjusting his jacket with deliberate movements. “An autopsy report,” he clarified his tone laced with a chilling edge. A twisted smile played on his lips, the sinister glint in his eyes sending a shiver down your spine. It was a reminder of the darkness that lurked beneath his polished exterior.

With that final unsettling gesture, he exited, leaving you alone with the weight of his demands.

[armpirate]

Soundleasure | Choi San || CH. 16

Pairings: Soft!San x fem!reader || Strangers to lovers, fake dating

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, online sex, ghosting

Warnings: inexperienced!San, fem!reader, masturbation, online sex, camboy, first times.

Summary: You can do whatever you please and be whoever you want on the Internet. And San knew that a little bit too well.

After finally following all the signs the universe was throwing at him, he started living a double life that no one was aware of. Everyone in his daily life knew him as Choi San, the reserved and quiet boy who wouldn't raise his voice, and would barely communicate with anyone outside of his comfort group. But only a few knew him as Soundleasure, the man with a sexy voice and a filthy mind that had their toes curling just with his narrations.

He never thought of the possibility of those two lives ever meeting, he had always tried for them to follow a parallel route and had always played safe to keep his friends from ever suspecting that side even existed. But his plans will start to crumble when he gets a little too close with one of his subscribers and she invades his real-self and altergo's universes without being able to stop it.

Y/n will not only help him to keep his secret from his circle, but will also show him there's more of Soundleasure in him than he'd like to admit. 

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Aprox. time of reading: 23 minutes

San brushed his hands together, trying to get himself ready as he walked a bit faster when the Maps app warned him that he was closer to his destination through his earphones. Superstar by Jamelia blasted his ears as he slowly pictured Y/n in his head. He listened casually to that song on the radio the other day and he couldn't help but think of her, because the lyrics just fitted her so well. She attracted everyone in a room so effortlessly, it was almost as if she was born with it.

The music seemed to fade-out slowly as he found that route familiar for some reason.

He recognized that old banner of one of the restaurants in the area, that he used to go to whenever he met up with his father close to his workplace. It only took him a few more steps to know why he thought he knew that street so well. Classic Cruise headquarters were at the other side of the street, with that wide three floor building taking most of the space in that block. He knew that restaurant because he usually went there when his father had to double his shift for some reason.

He could only hope Y/n wasn't working there, but the location she sent him marked exactly that place as he took his phone out of the belly pocket in his black sweater.

His steps turned slower as he tried to think of how his life turned a whole different turn after his father was dumped from that company, with no other explanation other than production requiring less people to work on certain projects. That company still stayed the same, while the rest of the people that were kicked out had to completely change their way of living, only because the man in power didn't know how to handle his own business properly. And relating it to one of the things that Y/n mentioned, that man didn't change a single bit.

He was about to turn on his tracks, and change his destination again, but he thought about her. Y/n was completely different from that. Of course she came from a rich family, of course she had enough money to cut up her salary to save someone else's position, but how many people in that same situation would've done the same?

He was there for her, he wanted to see her. She was a mere agent when all that blew out, and she had no fault in the way her father managed his business. She was better than all that, and she had proved it time and time again since they talked for the first time.

As he stepped inside the big building, he met up with a tall man with a nice haircut and a trimmed beard waiting behind the counter, looking up to him over his glasses.

—Hey, I'm here to meet Y/n —he nervously informed.

—Miss Y/s, you mean?

He held back that inner huff when the man felt like correcting him. He understood him, so what was exactly the point of calling her by her username?

—Yeah, miss Y/s —San confirmed.

—May I know who's looking for her?

—Choi San —he slowly introduced himself.

—Hold on a second.

The man left him waiting, with both of his hands hanging nervously over the edge of the white counter, while the suited receptionist grabbed the phone to confirm whether she was waiting for a visit or not.

—Her secretary said there's no one under the name of Choi San on her schedule. Would you like to arrange a meeting for tomorrow, instead?

—No, look...

While raising up his finger, the man interrupted him again, paying attention to the person he was talking to on the phone rather than what he had to say.

—Yes, miss Y/s. I'll give him a badge right now —his tone completely changed as he realized Y/n was the one speaking to him at that moment.

A few minutes went by while the receptionist tried to get the badge machine to start working, until the clacking sound of heels interrupted the silent noise of the machine. He looked up curiously, finding Y/n dressed in a black tight knitted dress. Her presence instantly made the receptionist turn to her and stand straight.

She genuinely didn't care about John not letting San walk through easily, because that was exactly the point of his job. He made the first filter that assured the security of the company and those inside. That was why she didn't think of saying anything to him when she saw San at the other side of the counter.

—You should've told me you were here —she said—. Did you make the badge already? —Y/n turned to John, who shook his head.

—The machine was getting started.

—Jennifer prepared a permanent badge half an hour ago, so it should be fine —she told him—. I think Charlotte saved it somewhere with a note with my name.

—Oh, yeah. Here it is.

His colleague had saved it under the computer monitor, without telling him what it was actually about. He handed it over to San, who hung it around his neck as he started walking towards Y/n.

—Also, a new task: any bucket coming for me, feel free to send them all back. Inform Charlotte as well about it. Let's see if that person takes the hint.

After talking, she turned again to San, moving her head to encourage him to walk with her towards the stairs.

—Do you have a secret fan? —he asked first.

—More like a secret creep —she sighed—. I don't know who it is, but I have enough with worrying about everything going on in my life and the company to worry about a clown trying to tease me.

—To tease you? —San asked, confused.

—If that person was dangerous, they'd have tried something else than sending flowers with weird notes —she tried to play it cool—. If those flowers don't ever get to me, they'll end up giving up. By the way —she stopped before reaching the last step—, were you busy when I texted you?

Other than lamenting his clumsy mouth, there was nothing more interesting going on with him that morning.

—No, no.

—You didn't go to class today? —her eyebrow raised.

Through all those late night conversations they had since they met, Y/n was sure he didn't mention a single time missing a class.

—Huh? —his eyes moved from the metallic railing to his shoes, going back to her— Well...

—Was it because of yesterday? —Y/n asked again.

Was he so easy to read? She only had to dedicate one look at him to be able to tell what was wrong with him?

—I shouldn't have asked you to go for that drink —the click of her tongue interrupted his thoughts—. I didn't remember you had to be in class today.

At least that's better than having her knowing he spent the whole morning in bed, whining because of the big idiot he was.

San was confused at how she acted like that kiss never happened. She was so chill and calm, talking to him like she hadn't left his text unanswered for a whole morning, until she felt forced to speak to him; it was almost as if she was confirming what he suspected. While Y/n was doing her best at keeping her doubts and thoughts to herself. Whether she wanted to discuss it or not, she wasn't going to be the one forcing a justification out of him. She was convinced dealing with all of it was already hard enough for him to be making it even more difficult.

—Let's go to my office.

The second they both entered the common area, most of the eyes instantly turned to them. It was like they had a big spotlight pointing at them, with a neon light announcing they'd be walking through the hallways towards the office she worked in.

From behind, and fighting his inner need to look at the way her hips swayed with grace, he managed to notice how her head was raised up, letting her neck adopt the perfect straight posture. And suddenly she felt so distant and intimidating, that he even wondered if it was right to follow her up -despite her inviting him inside.

In the middle of his own anxiety levels increasing, and the fog of judgment from those around him clouded his mind, San tried to focus on what it first pushed him to text Y/n and meet up with her.

He needed to let go of all those thoughts, he wanted Y/n to know that what he said wasn't exactly what he meant. And, for that, he tried to remember Wooyoung's advice earlier that morning.

—Okay, you don't want to talk about it, but I will —the door closing behind them seemed to hit a button, having him put an end to the silence as he tried to get an explanation out of her—. I know the kiss was awful. I bet you're trying to erase it from your memory, and I can't blame you.

Y/n was surprised by how sudden he sounded out of nowhere, focused on his discourse to the point of completely forgetting about his shy aura that usually kept him from discussing things like that.

—When I said I was sorry for kissing you, I meant that I was sorry for putting you through such an uncomfortable situation for a kiss that wasn't worth it. I didn't mean that I didn't like kissing you, because I did like kissing you. It was my first kiss, and possibly the best kiss I'll ever have. But I know it wasn't your first kiss, and possibly you've had way better kisses...

Y/n pressed her lips together, trying to hold back her smile as she listened to his rant, where he barely paused to breathe. She was worried he'd act like it never happened if she didn't mention it, only for San to blow it all out while deeply looking into her eyes.

The lack of air in his lungs started to show off on the marked veins of his neck, and the way his words sounded drowned and forced as his speech went on. She could only think of one way to keep him from passing out at any moment. Holding his cheeks, she took one step towards him and linked their lips together on a soft peck that kept all the remaining words stuck in his throat.

His eyes instantly closed at the gentle touch of her lips on his, letting himself go by how intimidating and warm it felt. He moved his lips first, sucking on her lower lip to deepen the kiss. Although his muscles didn't take long to tense, making his body stiff again, when he was drowned back to the reality that that wasn't the best place to do things like those.

She looked up at him confused as San moved back, breaking the kiss.

—What...?

As she looked down to one of his hands, she noticed his index finger pointing behind her to the people that were pretending to be back to work as soon as she moved to look over her shoulder.

Those damned glass walls.

When she looked back at San, she could notice a soft blush forming on the upper part of his cheeks.

—Why so red? —she giggled.

—I'm not —he shyly smiled, looking down as he touched his face to feel the warmer spots against the reverse of his digits.

—So you were actually worried about me not liking the kiss?

As she walked past him, she could feel his senses completely neutralized by the sweet scent that radiated from her. Her eyes were comprehensive as he followed her gaze, but her pose was so tempting while supporting the weight of her body on the edge of her desk.

—Yeah.

—Why?

—Why? —he frowned at her question, trying to think of an answer.

—Just be honest. I want to know why you thought like that —she shrugged.

—I was nervous, I let myself go with the impulse although I wasn't ready for it. I mean —he closed his eyes momentarily to settle his thoughts—, I was ready, but I wasn't ready to be at your level.

—My level? —she scoffed.

—You kiss so well, and I just... I just looked like a fish flopping around.

—San, it was your first kiss, what did you think I expected? —although she tried to hold back those giggles, all efforts were in vain— We aren't born and know how to do those things. It's something that needs practice. Like the way you express yourself through texts —she joked—. I thought all morning that you regretted it.

—No. Of course not. I just thought you were disappointed last night.

—Oh, you should also improve those body language readings as well —she mumbled, grimacing at his words—. Wait, is it because I kissed you on the cheek instead of the lips when I dropped you off?

And San finally saw some sense in the way he overreacted. Of course it was that. The first thought that crossed his mind as soon as he laid on the bed was that, if she had liked the kiss, she'd have kissed him back in the car, instead of going for his cheek.

—San —she whined, face palming her forehead—. Okay. Let's be direct with each other from now on, and I'll start by making it clear for you: I liked it, a lot. Because it was you. No disappointments, no regrets. I just kissed you on the cheek because it felt less invasive. I know you're shy, and I thought that maybe a goodbye kiss on the lips would've made you uncomfortable.

If she was already his ideal woman through texts, meeting her in real life made him believe he had won the lottery. She respected his space and rhythm, and she tried to adapt to his pace. She was clear and comprehensive with him, and it actually made him wonder how many others would be so lucky to meet someone like that.

—Is that so? —his lips puckered while the corners lifted slightly.

Y/n scoffed again, shaking her head in disbelief at how easily it was for Sun to get flustered at the same time his cheeks lighted up again.

—Quit that smile —she pointed at him—. Look at how fast we would've solved things out if you just had called me last night with this.

San nodded, but he still smiled through his efforts to keep a straight face.

—Was this why you wanted to meet up?

—Yeah. Also —he scratched his nape—, one of my friends' girlfriends is planning a trip to Cape Cod this weekend, and they wanted you to join. I know we said we wouldn't do it again —he tried to be careful with his words—, but Meghan, she's Yeosang's girlfriend by the way —he added, as if that extra information was needed—, thought it'd be a good idea to have you there, too.

—Yeah, about that... —Y/n started— I need a favor from you.

—Hmm?

—We're planning an event, and I kinda said you'd come with me —she shrugged as she innocently smiled.

—An event?

—I'm sorry, I just got carried on by the asshole of Tim, and said you'd attend with me. It's okay, you don't have to do that. I know last time was too much.

—No, I can do that —he nodded—. I can do that if you want me to be there.

—Are you sure?

Last time it was more lighthearted than what those events tended to be, and she knew the pressure that San already was on during that barbeque.

—I'll just prepare better for my role as an engineer in Vancouver. There will be no flaws this time —he chuckled—. Would you... I mean, just if you want... Do you want us to have dinner together?

Y/n then realized the time it was. It was still early to have dinner, but she didn't want him to go so early. He came all the way from his house to her office just because she told him to meet up.

—Can you hang on for thirty minutes? I need to finish up some documents.

When she first told him to meet up, her schedule was completely clear. But suddenly her email was flooded with requests of reports that needed to be handed before she left.

—Yeah, sure —he nodded, walking around nervously.

As she tapped on her computer, her eyes went up to him, smiling while he wandered around the room with his hands inside the pockets of his jeans. It was impressive how any style suited him, to the point of having her gushing over him. Until his clumsiness kicked in. His face grimaced, momentarily scared, when he almost dropped something from the shelf that was over the couch, making her silently laugh as she focused back on the screen.

San's eyes uncontrollably fell on her every few seconds, moving away quickly before she could notice it, but enough to appreciate how delicate her features seemed whenever she was concentrating on something.

They were playing tag with one another, until their eyes coincidentally moved to each other at the same time, ending with both of them moving their gazes away while smiling.

Two knocks on her door broke all that silly game, having her aiming her eyes at her father stepping inside her office.

—Am I bothering you?

—Hmm no —she shook her head.

—I'll be leaving earlier today, so just send those reports to the head of administration, and put me on cc —he explained—. Your mother prepared me roasted ribs.

And right when he was about to start salivating, he found San looking curiously at them after looking around his daughter's office.

—Oh, San. I didn't know you were here.

Harry walked over to him to greet him, but somehow it felt different to the other two times. Anxiety and nervousness were replaced by some type of distrust and discomfort that Y/n couldn't ignore. It was different from the other times, where he was visibly nervous by the situation itself. Now it clearly seemed like his discomfort was due to her father.

—Do you want to come over for dinner?

—Actually —Y/n interrupted, before San felt forced to reject the offer—, we already had plans.

—Okay, then —he greeted, heading to the door—. Have fun —he winked at his daughter one last time before stepping out of the office.

Y/n saw San sitting again on the couch, slowly going back to his calm and relaxed persona whenever he was around her. Although she wasn't going to ask him about it right in that moment, it was something to leave it better when they were in a more intimate space.

***

He took the bag with food from her hand so she'd be able to reach for her keys, earning a sweet smile from her before she started walking to her door again. He waited for her to step inside first, despite knowing the way inside her house after being there before.

—Do you mind if I get changed? —she turned to him, getting San to slowly shake his head— You can sit wherever you want: the dinner table, the couch... up to you.

And just like she told him, he did. San looked around first, trying to choose the right place, and ended up walking towards the coffee table in front of her long couch. Not shortly after she was back with him, wearing a pair of baggy pants and an oversized t-shirt, whose edge danced on her lap when she happily trotted to where he was.

—Are you hungry? —he chuckled.

—Very —she sat next to him—. I ate earlier today because I had a meeting at my usual lunch time. I could've gone later, but it sits wrong with my body whenever I do. It's weird.

—I've only had a plate of pasta before going to the gym —he commented, taking the food out of the bags.

—Oh, so you went to the gym —she asked, picking one of her french fries—. Did you do it on purpose before coming to see me?

San instantly had that nervous expression again, moving his lips to speak, but without a single word coming out of them.

—What did you do? —Y/n asked, smiling maliciously while ignoring her own teasing.

—It was back and arms day.

—I can't believe you don't get hit on there —Y/n mentioned, biting on her burger.

—I do —he nodded—. I mean, it's not something that happens every day, but it's happened. Let's just say you need a Doctorate in patience with me —he mumbled, unwrapping his burger.

—What are you talking about? It's not that bad —she assured him—. With a Bachelor's degree it's alright —Y/n stopped to change the tone again—. I don't think it's that bad.

—Because you're different —San reached for a napkin when he spotted the bit of mayonnaise in the corner of her lips—. You'd see the weirdest thing, and you'd still find its positive side.

While he was right, he was missing something important, and it was how powerful his aura was despite him not being aware of it. And it was there again, as he leaned over her a bit to clean off her mouth while looking directly at it, her whole body froze for him, and he still believed he didn't have that power.

—Maybe the one who doesn't have good eyesight it's you —he replied back —. I only pay attention to things that are worth it. So if that weird thing got my attention at first, it's good enough already. If I think it's cute, then it's over the top. So do with that information what you want —as she was to look out for ketchup, her tongue clicked when she didn't find any—. They didn't add ketchup.

—Do you have?

—Yeah, in the fridge.

She remembered it's one of the few things she had there specifically because of that.

Y/n was going to stop him, but San was already midway when she realized. She paid for the food, and made extra effort to make him feel comfortable. The least he could do was try hard to make her feel better.

As he opened the fridge, he first looked for the sauce, but his eyes got stuck in the small boxes he only managed to see from afar. It looked like some type of medication, although he couldn't really tell what it was by its name alone. He went back to her quickly though, trying to remember the name as he grabbed the bottle, with the thought of searching it up later.

—Thank you —she smiled widely at him—. I was thinking... Earlier this afternoon, you looked so serious when seeing my dad, did something happen?

Of course he was so obvious that Y/n could tell. He completely forgot she was an ace while reading people's body language.

—I was just nervous.

—Still?

—Because of a man that could end me with a snap of a finger? Yes —he lied.

—And you think I'd allow him to do that to you? —she challenged him, taking one french fry with ketchup on its tip to her lips.

—Are you my guardian? —he laughed.

—Of course I am! You look tough and big, and you're way taller, but I'll protect you.

Being around Y/n was always a good experience for San. Although he didn't know her for long, she always managed to make him feel in a safe place, like he was with anyone else from his group of friends.

It could be that they didn't have a lot of things in common, but they always managed to build a long conversation around those topics. And, even if it wasn't about one of their mutual interests, they both made it seem like it was. It was all so fluid and easy, that both of them felt like they were back to when they started speaking through long phone calls. It was all that again, but better because he was able to see the way her eyes lit up and she was able to appreciate the way his dimples deepened as his smile got wider.

—And I remember my dad told me to just stop taking taekwondo lessons. He was the one who encouraged me to go, until I broke someone's nose.

—I bet that little shit deserved it —she shook her head.

—A little bit, yeah.

Y/n found him attractive already, but nothing beated the way he looked when he was just being himself, completely relaxed and talkative. Not only because he radiated confidence like that, but it was also precious for her. He wasn't the type to be open like that with a lot of people, but he was like that with her. And it made her think how all that patience was completely worth it if she was going to see him like that.

—What? —he smiled shyly, noticing the way her eyes scanned all over his face.

—We said we would be honest and direct with each other, right?

San nodded, unsure of where that comment was coming from.

—I really want to kiss you right now —she admitted.

—I want to be really honest, too. I'm dying to kiss you, too.

Her fingers caressing the pecks on his neck, combined with that happy smile, made some part of his brain tickle, and he was ready to deal with that sensation increasing its feeling.

Her lips felt so addictive the two times she kissed him, but it didn't feel like that night. Something was urging him to hold her closer with his hands on her waist, and never let go until their lips were swollen and they both felt dizzy.

—Just follow me, okay? —she whispered, breaking the kiss just to link their lips together again after he nodded.

She controlled the way he moved by imposing her movements, moving her head to find the right angle, tasting each bit of skin, just getting him used to her. Some of the first times San found himself kissing blindly where he wasn't supposed to, aiming sometimes in the air, until he got used to her slow pace, feeling all of his hairs rising whenever he got a taste of her inner lip.

Y/n broke the kiss again, looking at him under her eyelashes, and noticing how thick and heavy his eyelids seemed as he tried to look at her.

—I'll add a bit of tongue, alright?

San waited for her lips to cover his again, but instead he only felt her slowly rubbing them against his. The tip of her tongue traced the line of his lower lip so gently that he thought his spine would melt at any moment. Instinctively, his lips parted and Y/n took that invitation freely, sliding the tip inside and rubbing it against his. His reaction was hidden behind the need to want more and focus on what she was doing to learn from it, and mirror it.

She took it slow, she was patient, Y/n just wanted him to feel comfortable before going on. She always waited for him to move, and imitate what she did, before she continued.

Their lips popped loudly when they broke apart for the first time, and that sound alone started waking up something in him. Blinded by her, he moved forward, feeling a perfectly marked pain in his frontal teeth as he moved way too fast, ending up hitting against hers.

—Oh my god, I'm sorry —he mumbled, seeing her forcibly moving back due to pain.

—It's okay —her hand covered his wrist, trying to help him take it easy—. Let's go for it again.

He did exactly what Y/n did, he imitated everything he felt, playing with his fingers on the fold on the side of her t-shirt. Her hand, still on his wrist, tried to appease him, while the hand on his neck moved up to his cheek to rub her thumb on his skin.

The kiss was still sloppy, despite being slow, but damn wasn't it making her go crazy every time his tongue rubbed on hers. She wasn't able to control her gasps, just like he gave up a few times by airing out some of his groans whenever her fingers digged on his scalp.

She wanted to kiss him until he got it perfect, and she genuinely didn't mind if they spent hours like that. But he stopped before she could even think of making it real, covering every corner of her mouth with small kisses before he looked at her.

Both of their lips were shiny, coated with each other's saliva, and parted as they tried to recover some of the air that left their lungs.

—Did I pass the test?

—Hmm, I won't mind giving you some extra classes —she joked, licking her lips.

—We should leave those extra classes for another day though. I think I should get home now.

And he was afraid that, if he kept falling into Y/n's trap, he'd fall into something that it'd be difficult for him to escape. And he didn't want to make her uncomfortable with the consequences of those kisses.

—Is everything okay?

—Yeah, just that... You kiss so well, and you're so tempting, that I doubt I'll be able to control my body if we keep on like this. And I don't mean it in the wrong way —he quickly corrected himself—. I'm not going to force you into anything, that's exactly why I'm leaving. Not —he sighed— not because of that.

Y/n snorted as she saw him struggling with his words, trying to explain to her what was going on, but being careful with his words so as not to hurt her.

—Are you laughing? —he tilted his head.

—No —she tried to lie—, just a bit. But not of you, I promise.

—I'm just trying to say that I was getting hard, but I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.

—I guessed so —she nodded.

He was just looking at her surprised by the way those words just came out of his mouth.

The fact that he was so honest and straight to the point, with no fake excuses, made her laugh. But it was most definitely excitement over seeing him more comfortable around her than the words themselves. She probably would've just shrugged it off at a man being decent towards her -which wasn't exactly the case in her dating life, but with San she appreciated it a bit more because she knew where she was coming from.

Holding his cheeks, she planted a peck on his lips so he'd just stop overthinking and ranting until running out of air.

It was alright. Those things happened.

—I'll take the keys —she let him know.

—You always drive me home, I'll get there by myself —he assured her.

—You sure?

—Hmm —he nodded—. I'll send you a text when I get home.

It was like an impulse, something that got from his inner self and he wasn't able to control. He didn't kiss her lips or her cheek, his lips fell on her forehead. And Y/n was sure that certainly felt way more intimate and close than any other make out session. Such a small gesture had her cheeks burning up, and her smile drawing across her face.

And that smile was something he kept thinking of after he arrived home, that smile was the only thing in his head as he got changed and laid in his bed. And it only felt right that Y/n was the one taking control of each one of his thoughts after that evening, only clouded by one quick thought that made him frown.

Exiting their chat, he opened the navigator, typing each one of the letters that were written in those boxes.

Copaxone: is thought to modify immune processes believed to be responsible for activating MS.. It's not clear how glatiramer acetate (Copaxone or Brabio) works. It seems to kill the immune cells that attack the coating (myelin) around nerves in your brain and spinal cord. You inject it under your skin once a day or, at a higher dose, three times a week.

Y/n was sick?

[daydream-cement]

Vines Forever Intertwined Ch. 1

Larissa Weems x OC (Fern Rogers)

With Larissa and Fern’s love life fizzling and their children acting out, the couple take on a new adventure to get their spark back.

Gosh guys!!! I’m so excited for this story! It’s good to have Larissa and Fern back!

The visit from Agent Thatcher has been weighing heavily on you for days. You were irrationally waiting for her to show up with some decree, forcing you and Larissa to take the job. 

Life was already hectic enough with two twelve year olds (one of which often chose to use their shapeshifting abilities more for troublemaking rather than good). Althea was enjoying periodic stays in the Jericho Middle School’s principal's office due to their ‘stick it to the man’ phase, and Violet was having her own personal battle with a lack of any outcast abilities whatsoever. There was far too much happening at home for you and Larissa to get up and leave to go traipsing around looking for danger. 

Domestic life was bliss with Larissa, but you knew the past few years had lacked the spark that once brought you together. Some time away would be good for the both of you, but you were convinced that time away from the kids was the worst decision either of you could make. 

Now you reclined back in your desk chair, attention drawn away from the grading of student presentations to Althea and Violet dropping their backpacks by your classroom door. 

You couldn’t help but notice how they were growing like weeds. They were as tall as you at age twelve and they would surpass you in no time at all- destined to be tall like their mother.

“We are going to the library.” Althea called out, eyes wandering to the recently hung up posters on poisonous plants clinging to the walls. Their attention finally fell on you, their common devilish smirk gracing their lips, “Mom stopped us and said you need to go to her office. I really hope you don’t get fired. That would make life awkward at home.”

“You and me both, kid.” At the mention of being needed in Larissa’s office, you stand from your chair, swiping your phone and keys from your desk on your way towards the classroom door. As you stride towards the twins, you point a finger at Althea, knowing they were behind all of the mischief the two got up to, “Stay out of the secret passageways. Your mother will pitch a fit if she finds out you are skulking in the walls of the school again.”

Althea turned to Violet as they turned to leave, their lip curling in confusion at your vocabulary, “Skulking?”

“Like creeping around, Al...” Violet retorted, offering a general definition to the troublemaker as the pair walked from the classroom. 

They were headed in the opposite direction of Larissa’s office, so you called after the children a final time, urging them to stay out of trouble, knowing full well it was nearly impossible for them. 

As the twins continued to grow up, you were delighted at getting to know their developing personalities. Althea was fearless and headstrong, while Violet was kind and empathetic. The pair always stuck together and it was always an indicator of trouble if you saw one without the other. The memory of Violet operating as a lookout while Althea searched Larissa’s desk for a key to the cabinet where cursed objects were kept came to mind. 

Up the grand staircase and down the hall you walked, knocking on Larissa’s office door twice before pushing it open. Your anxieties were realized when lo and behold, Agent Thatcher sat perched across from your wife. 

With wide eyes and a clenched jaw, you looked from the shapeshifter to the agent, mind racing at what the two could have spoken about in your absence. You remained silent, but your face said everything Larissa needed to know.

“Agent Thatcher has been telling me about an interesting outcast in Louisiana. A- Uhm, what was it called again?” Larissa was positioned upright in her chair, back ramrod straight. She was obviously uncomfortable with the agent’s presence 

“It goes by a few names, but we are deciding to go with rougarou. It’s a parasite that lives off normies, turning them into a werewolf-like creature for a few months and then it transfers to someone else.” As Agent Thatcher delved deeper into her description of the matter at hand, you took a seat on the edge of Larissa’s desk, folding your arms over your chest. The agent politely glanced between Larissa and you, dividing her attention equally as she spoke, “We have less of a problem with the parasite and more of a problem with a normie organization attempting to create more of this parasite in a lab. Inside informants say they are looking to turn this parasite into a one-a-day pill to turn normies into werewolves as they please... You can understand our concern with makeshift werewolves running around.”

“You seem to know plenty about this issue. Why would you possibly need us?” Larissa’s brows raised at the brunette, 

“A shapeshifter and a plant manipulator? You are the perfect people for the case. The company is big in plant based pseudo-science medicines. Ten greenhouses built into the swamps of Louisiana.” Reaching down into her briefcase, Thatcher pulled out a manilla envelope, handing it over to Larissa. The shapeshifter skeptical analyzed the packet in her hands before prying it open and allowing the contents to spill onto her desk. Brochures, maps, and company information graced the many pages of the documents Larissa and you began to leaf through. 

Agent Thatcher smiled as she glanced between Larissa and you, “They like doing tours too. Perfect for a couple out of Vermont to tour and sabotage the facilities, hm?”

“Don’t you have agents to do this?” You question, returning the photos of the greenhouses back to the pile, not wanting to seem too interested or invested in the case at hand. 

“None with your skill set. We know how you survived nightshade poisoning and how you both defeated the ancient curse. You are both more than capable.” Agent Thatcher focused on you for the later half of her thoughts, her eyes filled with an intensity that made you consider her words for once, “You should be dead, Dr. Rogers, but here you sit before me. Twelve years of no danger, no excitement... Don’t you miss it?”

The question made you pause. Your first year at Nevermore had been a nightmare, one near death experience followed by actually dying was more than you ever thought you wanted in the lifetime. But there was something enticing about Agent Thatcher’s offer. Perhaps there was something you missed about that danger?

Larissa must have seen you considering the question, so in an act of protective instinct, she ended the conversation, standing from her desk and offering the agent a polite smile, “I think our meeting time has run out, Agent Thatcher.”

----

“Fern... I don’t- I don’t think this is best for us right now. Althea is in trouble every other day, and Violet with her lack of powers. Who would even stay with them?” Larissa’s voice cut through the darkness of your bedroom. She lay on her back, eyes staring up at the ceiling with her hands folded over her stomach. You had been facing away from her with your eyes shut, but your mind was far too preoccupied for you to actually have been asleep.

You hesitate in your answer, not wanting to upset Larissa. Turning over in bed, you observe Larissa through the darkness, frowning at how upset she seemed, “This just might be a new adventure for us. Don’t things feel...”

The shapeshifter finished your sentence, a lump forming in her throat, “Stagnant?” 

You take a deep breath, your response flowing out with your exhale, “Yeah...”

“Sometimes...” Larissa mumbled her response, her heart aching at the idea you both could be growing apart.

Quiet overtook the space between you once more. It almost felt suffocating. 

There was no explaining how your relationship had taken a backseat to your other roles in life. Between raising children and working at your careers, Larissa and you had become more of roommates than lovers. While you knew spontaneous sex and make out sessions may be rare given the addition of the twins, you hadn’t expected physical affection to be absent altogether. 

Rare were times you would lay together on the couch wrapped in one another’s embrace, date nights were a thing of the past, and occasional pecks on the cheek had become the quickest and easiest way to say, ‘I love you.’ The last time you had sex was nearly two months ago, you both needed to change and knew it to be true.

Larissa was the one to end the silence, her hand reaching out in search of yours. When she found your fingers, she laced hers with yours, giving your hand two squeezes, “Maybe we should go...”

Just down the hall, the twins had been sitting in silence in Violet’s bed scrolling through social media until Violet furrowed her brows, a feeling of boredom and sadness washed away by love and promise filled the young girl’s head. 

Since the girl’s twelfth birthday, she began having bouts of intense emotions, always being brought on by the emotions of others. Larissa and you had written it off as a large well of empathy within the child. Only if you would have known the true depth of the child’s growing abilities. 

Of course, Althea never doubted the seriousness of Violet’s abilities, and began to readily recognize the signs of when Violet was reading the emotions of others. Althea’s voice was quiet, not wishing to disturb their sister’s focus, “What do you feel, Vi?” 

Althea closed her eyes to focus on the energy radiating from her parent’s room, her heart swelling at the positive emotions emitted from within. “Less sadness... More hope. They are excited, but unsure about something.” 

——

You checked your watch once more: 7:05am, you were already running late. Larissa was beginning to fuss over the twins, hugging Violet to her as she went over the rules once more for Ms. Sinclair, “No phones after 11pm, all the homework should be done before dinner, no-”

Enid began reciting the rules back to Larissa. She kept her tone light and airy, but the young werewolf was growing a tad annoyed by her former headmistress’s fretting, “No junk food before dinner, no trips to the principal, up and out of bed by 7:30. I got this Principal Weems. You have repeated them to me at least a dozen times, and left a printed copy on the dining table. We’ll be just fine.”

“Behave for Enid.” The shapeshifter squeezed Violet even tighter, making the young girl yelp at the bone crushing hug. Larissa’s eyes found Althea standing next to you, her tone firm, “And you, no impersonating others as a scheme to get out of work, school, or chores.”

“How about schemes to get out of-” 

Althea began a sarcastic question, only for you to cut them off while shaking your head, “No scheming. How about that?”

They only shrugged and folded their arms over their chest, seemingly unbothered, “Fair… No schemes.” 

“We love you both very much.” While Althea was hesitant at first, they sunk into your embrace as you wrapped your arms around them. You were pleading with them to behave, not wanting the endearing troublemaker to distract Larissa from having fun, “Please don’t stir any trouble. I don’t need your mother in a tizzy when we are over 1,500 miles away.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll keep Violet in line.” 

You ignored the small shapeshifter’s snarky comment, moving to wrench Violet out of Larissa’s grasp so you could hug her yourself. 

The next ten minutes was spent ushering Larissa to the car, wanting to get this road trip started as soon as possible. You were already 15 minutes past when you should have left, and you had a 15 hour drive to Kentucky ahead of you.

With a few more kisses blown to the twins, you finally had the weepy headmistress in the car. 

Larissa was wiping at her eyes with her handkerchief as you pulled out of the driveway. She sniffled twice and her sadness had visibly subsided, her emotions turning more bittersweet as she knew her time with you would be time well spent. 

She sighed and sunk deeper in the passenger seat, hands digging around in her purse for her cellphone. Mrs. Weems was a happy woman being a passenger princess. With one hand she played Candy Crush, and with the other, her fingers massaged the back of your neck.

Perhaps this trip wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[duhragonball]

Chainsaw Man Ch.53-62

I've got a lot to cover here, so let's just dive right in.

Last time, Denji fell in love (again) and got his heart broken when the girl turned out to be a Russian agent sent to assassinate him. He seemed to think it could still work out somehow, but he hasn't seen her since their fight, and I'm pretty sure he never will, since Makima had her killed in Chapter 52. Not sure if Denji knows that part, but there you have it.

So he's pretty depressed about the whole thing, and he's been having dreams where Pochita calls out to him from behind a locked door "Don't open it." Don't open the door? I guess. Also, Denji's a kid in this dream, so I don't know if that means anything.

He quickly bounces back from his funk when Makima invites him, Power, and Aki to join her on a vacation in Enoshima.

Buuuuuut the trip is postponed when Makima learns that the news media is covering the Chainsaw Man, who was seen fighting Reze and Typhoon Devil in the previous arc. This is a problem, because Makima considers Chainsaw Man a very valuable asset in the hunt for Gun Devil, but now the whole world knows she has Chainsaw Man, and she expects other nations to send agents like Reze to capture him.

Makima reasons that this was Reze's goal all along. The Russians sent her after Denji, and maybe their plan was to start a big enough ruckus that Public Safety couldn't keep Chainsaw Man a secret any longer. So even if the Russians couldn't get Denji for themselves, they could at least make it harder for Makima to keep him.

That makes sense up to a point, except it doesn't quite line up with Reze's actions. She took a very subtle approach with Denji, and seemed very intent on killing him as quietly as possible. The big battle in the city might have been Plan B, but at the end of the arc, she admitted that she had failed by taking too long to fight Denji. So if her true mission was simply to expose him to the world, she sure didn't act like it.

So why the hell is Chainsaw so damn important anyway? Denji's pretty formidable now that he's merged with Pochita, but Pochita didn't seem all that special by himself, and all these players seem to be fixated on the Chainsaw Devil, not Denji. Gun Devil's gone after him, the Russians have gone after him, and now Makima is expecting other countries to send their own agents. But why?

The answer seems to have something to do with the fact that other devils are terrified of Chainsaw Man's power. Aki discussed this with Angel Devil recently, and Angel explained to him that when you kill a devil, they don't actually die. They turn to ash and simply reincarnate in hell. Then they live as devils in hell, basically doing the same thing there, until they're killed in hell, which causes them to reincarnate on Earth.

This has to do with the devils being manifestations of fears. People are afraid of guns, so there's a Gun Devil. People are afraid of bats, so there's a Bat Devil. Apparently enough people are afraid of tomatoes to get a Tomato Devil started. So it kind of makes sense that you can never permanently kill these things. Those fears don't just go away, so it follows that they can resurface after a time. I'm not sure how this cycle works, but Angel Devil doesn't even understand it himself. He doesn't remember his time in hell, and he compares it to a human having no memory of the womb.

Angel's point in all of this is that he's spoken to other devils who work in Public Safety, and while they don't remember hell very well either, they do recall a very specific sound they heard when they were killed in hell. And that sound was the revving of a chainsaw.

So that suggests that the Chainsaw Devil, Pochita, is the manifestation of the devils' collective fear. He's the boogeyman of all boogeymen. Then again, if Pochita was killing them all down in hell, how did he end up on Earth when he met Denji? Someone must have killed Pochita in hell, right?

At this point, it seems likely that everyone wants to control Denji so they can use Chainsaw as a weapon. Devils were eating Gun Devil flesh to get stronger, so it's likely that eating Chainsaw flesh would give them an even bigger buff. As for the humans, apparently they just really don't want Makima to control Chainsaw, even though she plans to use him against Gun Devil, which seems like it'd be in everyone's best interest.

All right, let's talk about the characters who go to Japan to hunt down Denji. First, we have these three guys from America. I call them "The Immortals" because I don't think we ever learn their full names. They have a contract with the Skin Devil that allows them to impersonate other people, and they've survived a lot of hardships in their lives, including the Gun Devil attacks, so they consider themselves indestructible.

Next we have Tolka and his master. I guess they're Russians, but I don't think this is spelled out. Tolka's master has him kill, skin, and cook a fox, just to prepare him for their mission of hunting and killing a 16-year-old boy. She wants to know if he can go through with such a thing, and he seems to believe he's up for the job.

Next we have Quanxi, a Chinese assassin. She has a squad of four fiends who help her on missions and such. Also, they fuck constantly. This army guy just walks in on them while they're in bed together and tells her about the mission to kill Denji, and they're both pretty casual about the whole thing. It's like they both understand that there's no point waiting for her to get done fucking, so he can just walk right in and state his business.

Beijing apparently is willing to grant her just about anything for her to take this job, and she thinks about it and requests human rights and a basic education for her harem of demon skanks. I just want to point out that one of them keeps saying the word "Halloween!" over and over again, so that's probably some sort of learning disorder. Also, I like how the CCP will do anything within their power to pay Quanxi for this, and she asks for human rights and they're like "Ouch, gee, that's a tall order, but we'll see what we can do." Like they were hoping she'd just ask for a solid gold house or a new eyeball.

Somehow, Makima already knows Quanxi is coming... Uh... sorry. Bad choice of words. But as dangerous as Quanxi is, the real threat is.... Germany's Santa Claus. What the fuck? Do I even want to know?

No. No, I do not. Germany's Santa Claus is an old man who takes the job and asks for four "good looking" children as payment. He plans to sacrifice three of them to make contracts with devils for more power, and the fourth one is "for pleasure", and that just might be the most spine-chilling pair of words in this entire series. Fuck you, Germany's Santa Claus. Just... no. Fuck.

Hey, here's these guys. I don't know who the hell they are, and it doesn't matter because the Immortal Bros. run their car off the road and gun them down in order to assume one of their identities and infiltrate Public Safety.

The problem with this whole part of the story is that there are a lot of new characters being tossed around here, and a lot of them are just young men in suits with fairly normal features. Chainsaw Man has demonstrated to me just why so many other manga characters have outrageous hairdos and wardrobes. All six of these characters look pretty similar, and one of them is a woman, for crying out loud. Fortunately, only two of them matter much here. The Elder Immortal, the one with the soulpatch, plans to impersonate Kurose, the Public Safety guy with the scar across his nose.

As he prepares to do this, he asks his brothers, Joey and Aldo, how they feel about the murder they just did. Joey's cool with it, but Aldo throws up, because it's his first killing.

So just keep Kurose's face in mind, even though the real Kurose is dead, and Elder Immortal is imitating him. He's got a scar running horizontally across his face. The other one who matters is Aldo, who has two scars over his right eye.

See, the logistical problem Public Safety has is that they're devoting all their resources to defending Denji, but they can't just hide him out in the mountains somewhere, because even though the agents pursuing him might not know his human appearance, they have contracts with devils who can sniff him out. Hiding Denji is all but impossible, so Makima just has him and Power go about their day-to-day business, but with a bunch of Public Safety guys standing guard over them all the time. Denji hates this because they boss him around constantly, and he soon realizes that this arrangement isn't to protect him at all. He's bait. They're hoping to draw out his pursuers, and maybe defeat some of them and convince the rest that it's not worth the trouble.

Meanwhile, Tolka and his master are eating in the same McDonalds as Denji and Power. Tolka's master has a contract with the Curse Devil, the same one Aki used a while back. The difference is that Tolka's master actually knows how to use the ability. She uses a nail instead of a sword, which allows her to poke Denji three times without him even noticing. Once she gets him a fourth time with the nail the curse will activate and insta-kill him. She leaves this task to Tolka. I guess this is like a final exam for his apprenticeship under her.

Fake Kurose shows up and tells the others that his two comrades were killed in an ambush, but he insists on continuing to help on the mission. He starts being all friendly to get good and infiltrated when...

Power hits him with her car. No, wait, it's Kobeni's car. Power saw it and wanted to drive it, because it reminded Power of her car, which looks exactly like Kobeni's car... Wait, did Kobeni steal Power's car? How could you, Kobeni? We all trusted you!

No, wait, Kobeni was the one driving and it's definitely her car because it was used to commit manslaughter. But wait, Kurose's face changes and he's one of those American hitmen! Power immediately takes credit for exposing his ruse.

So what about the other Immortal Bros.? Well, they were also nearby, but disguised as bystanders. They're horrified to see their big brother die so randomly, and Aldo pukes in an alley while Joey swears revenge. But he immediately gets spotted by a Public Safety guy and killed on the spot.

That just leaves Aldo, who only survives because he puts his disguise back on, and the Public Safety guy decides he can't be a hitman because he's throwing up. So now Aldo's on his own.

I'm kind of focusing on the Immortals' part of the story because frankly German Santa Claus and Tolka's Master haven't make their moves yet, and Quanxi just fucks her henchwomen instead of pursuing her target. Also this was the part of the arc I had trouble following, because of shapeshifters disguising themselves as the same background character.

Okay, so now Aldo's fucked, and the cops go to his hotel, so he can't stay there, so he uses what little information he had on Kurose to go visit Kurose's brother. This isn't a bad idea, except it really strains Aldo's already precarious mental state. He just watched his brothers die, and now he has to pretend to be this guy's brother and try to keep up appearances. I really enjoy this page where you see them from outside the apartment window, and all the word balloons are inside the window with them. Aldo's just completely trapped in this nightmare and he doesn't know what to do.

Kurose's brother thinks that he must be stressed out from work, and tries to talk him into quitting the Devil Hunter business. He asks what their big brother would say, and Aldo recalls what his actual older brother used to say, which gives him the resolve to see this job through. He spends the next few chapters trying to work up the courage to find Denji and kill him.

But we're not going to see that play out just yet. No, first it's Germany's Santa Claus' turn. His power comes from the Doll Devil, and anyone her touches is turned into a zombie-like doll who must do his bidding. Anyone the dolls touch is also turned, and the conversion is irreversible. This one guy guarding Denji has a contract that lets him turn people to stone, so that helps, but there's too many dolls coming after them, so they have to withdraw.

The stuff with the dolls is kind of fun, but it's not too different from other zombie battles we've already seen in this series. Then Quanxi and her minions enter the fray, and Quanxi does this big leap with swords, and everyone along her path gets cut in two. I'm not sure if Quanxi's fiend-skanks are assisting with this or what. This is like one of those JoJo arcs where there's two Enemy Stand Users at the same time, and it's impossible to figure out which one is doing what. Only multiply that by a hundred because Tatsuki Fujimoto can't stop adding characters to this story.

I don't understand her power, but the artwork for it is phenomenal. Dolls and civilians alike are massacred in a single stroke. I guess Quanxi does something similar to Janemba's sword slashes in Fusion Reborn, maybe?

Aki manages to block the effect before it kills Angel Devil, or I think that's what he's doing. They survive, but it knocks the wind out of them.

I'm kind of skipping around here, but Master Kishibe-- not Tolka's master, but the guy who trained Power and Denji-- subdues Quanxi's minions, then confronts her in the mall they're fighting in. They sit down at a table and talk while Denji and Power hold the girls hostage. This is one of those deals where the two grisled veterans talk it out for old time's sake. He seems to be trying to convince Quanxi to give up peacefully, but it's not that simple.

While they speak, he holds up a notepad that reads "Makima is listening", then reveals that he's planning to kill Makima, and he's willing to let her go, and even tell her his plan if she agrees to help him.

The thing is, she starts fighting again shortly after this, so I can't tell if she's doing that to keep up appearance, since Makima would be expecting a battle, or if she rejected Master Kishibe's offer. We'll probably find out later, but there's a lot of other stuff going on, so it'll probably be a while. The important thing for now is that Kishibe has gone from being suspicious of Makima to outright plotting against her, and he seems to trust a Chinese assassin more than his own boss.

Oh, here's a gag at the end of Volume 7 where Power demands Kobeni thank her for killing that bad guy. Aki explains to Kobeni that not only is Power a pathological liar, but she used her blood powers to alter her own memories to believe her bullshit. So the way Power remembers it, she heroically rode into the scene with her own car and ran over a bad guy who was threatening Kobeni and Denji. I'm not saying I like Power's version of the story better, but it's definitely got its advantages.

For example, a lot of Chapter 62 is spent on Quanxi fighting.... some guy. This is the same Public Safety guy who killed Joey after Power heroically killed Joey's brother with Kobeni's Power's car. Notice how I had to mention four other characters just to put this guy in context. I think he has a name, I just didn't think I needed to bother remembering it, since 60% of Denji's bodyguards have been killed off already. This guy has multiple earrings, and apparently that made him cool enough that Fujimoto thought he deserved this big action sequence with Quanxi, who... we really don't know all that well either.

So what the hell is Denji doing during all of this? Well, he considers turning into Chainsaw Man to join the fight, but Beam warns him against it, since he might need that later on, and it would be risky to wear himself out. Then Denji steps on a nail, which was carefully placed on the floor by Tolka.

We've seen the Curse Devil's effect before, but Denji hasn't, so he has no idea what's happening to him until it's too late. Beam tries to help, but Tolka kicks him and... yeah, I guess that's it. RIP Chainsaw Man. Again.

[deandoesthingstome]

Walk with Me - Ch 7

Pairing: FBI Agent!Syverson x OFC, Drug Czar!August Walker x OFC

Chapter Summary: This is it. The warehouse and beyond. The end.

Chapter Warnings: I’ll be real honest, I don’t really want to give anything away here. There’s gonna be some more sex if that interests you. (It’ll be outdoors. What?)

Word Count: 5K

Masterlist: For full series Summary and Warnings

Spotify Playlist: If you’ve followed the playlist, you should know what’s new.

A/N: Super grateful shoutout to @dadralt​ for helping me with a few French translations. I put the English at the bottom.

A/N 2: I really really appreciate everyone who has read and commented/reblogged this story. I had ideas when I started and those took on a life of their own. I got stuck a little on the way, but I think I figured it out and I hope you like the wrap up. 

Francesca

It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. While August was busy looking into his associates to root out a mole, I had made myself available for anything, anytime, no questions asked when he got back from Asia. That also meant ignoring Sy and making sure any information he received came through the agency and the agency only. One incredible night in the arms of the man I had once thought would be the only one I’d ever love. That’s all the sanity I had to hold onto.

As I found myself continuing to slip deeper under August’s spell, I also relished the memory of Sy’s arms wrapped around me, holding me close and safe. On my own, I was reckless and wanton. I’m sure it’s what drew Sy, and most men to me originally. But while most men gave up trying to handle the edge after a while, Sy had always somehow found a way to smooth it out. And that edge only grew sharper the longer I was away from him. It drove men crazy when they couldn’t hold on, most opting to let go rather than risk the deep cuts. 

Walter had understood what it took to dull the blade, because he needed a soother too. So while he came to understand he couldn’t offer me respite in his arms, he was there to try to ease every ache I came away with after losing out on love time and again. I envied him for the way he had been able to take each ending as a sign for a new beginning and hold on waiting for what he really needed. I think he could see the damage each heartbreak was doing to me, could tell that the longer I went without a net, the easier it was to embrace fire and danger with no regard for myself. But I don’t think he realized how deep down that hole I was falling. He thought it was just part of the game we played. Instead, this is how I let August in against all my better judgements.

August didn’t fear my sharp edge. He honed it. And until Sy reappeared, I struggled to make sense of why it felt so good to have August keep pushing me, why every time I saw him it felt like I was being forged in his fire. In the haze of the smoke we created together, fueled by drugs and sex and more passion than I’d known in ages, I let myself begin to believe there was a way through that didn’t involve putting him behind bars. Like a fool, I continued to gently broach the subject of just leaving everything behind. I no longer knew if it was still the smokescreen I meant it to be.

I kept Walter appraised, but there had been no new developments from what I had seen. No new security breaches initiated by any number of August’s club girls. No more state secrets passing his way. August apparently had everything he thought he needed to make his next move and he was just looking for the right time. I simply had to wait until Will had the data stripped off the club’s computers and was ready to hand it off. I had been unsuccessful in my previous searches, but Will was a masterful hacker. I just needed the call, but it never came and walking into the warehouse I knew why.

August had figured out Will was CIA. And now I had to hope Will had been able to keep our secret even after everything it was apparent August’s goons had done to him. I couldn’t tell for sure how long he’d been here, but some of the wounds were fresh enough to tell me that while August had been fucking my brains out this afternoon, Will was getting the shit beat out of him. And I hoped his training was just as good as mine and he’d been able to withstand the obvious torture I could see he’d been put through. This was never how this mission was supposed to go.

While August continued to share his credo about not letting anyone hurt him, I rubbed my thumb over the microchip I had pressed against my forefinger. I knew I had what we needed and there was no reason to keep playing this game that had stopped feeling like a game weeks ago. I wanted to rise to my feet, lean in close and whisper to August that we could still run. That I could hide him and maybe we’d be apart for a little while, but in the end I’d be his and he’d be mine and we would be together.

And then I heard the words coming out of his mouth and I knew suddenly how utterly fucked I was. I was about to ruin what was probably the biggest bust of Sy’s life and I was about to end August’s reign. Sy would never forgive me for lying to him and August wouldn’t be around to put me in my place. I’d end up with neither of them. 

Like a specter, the voice drifted through my thoughts.

“We’re in position.”

“Take him.” I fought to keep my eyes open. I would not turn away from this mess I had made.

August had barely stopped speaking, head at tilt and eyebrow raised in query at my words when the bullet hit. I watched him fall and barely registered the second round that took Mateo out. I couldn’t really stop the tears if I wanted to. Everything was in shambles around me. Not only was my partner hanging on by a thread, the man I had come to love in some sort of fucked up fantasy where I believed I could save him was dead.

And I had to somehow explain to Sy why I had let him believe he was ever going to have a shot at taking down August.

I heard sirens and shouts from outside the warehouse. Flashing lights flickered through the doorway each time a new body entered the space. Medics were on the scene and Will was getting the attention he needed when Walter found me sunk to the ground on my knees, resisting the urge to crawl to August and take him in my arms one last time. Doubt crept in, as if I’d made the wrong choice and it took everything I had not to let the bile rise up in my throat.

Walter wrapped an official jacket around me and asked if I was alright. I shook my head slowly and I felt him hold me closer. He knew what was coming. I don’t know how he knew. He never once asked if I was falling for August, but somehow he could tell and he knew what I had just done. He knew I would be in my head about this one for a good long time. Longer than any of the others.

“We just need to finalize the report and record your statement. We can do a video now and then you can go. Okay?” 

I felt his concerned gaze on me and mustered the strength to nod at his question, still amazed how he looked after me after all these years. We were never going to be together, but that didn’t stop us from caring about and wanting only the best for each other.

We set up in a corner of the warehouse, away from the noise of the agents processing the scene. Before he turned the camera on, I dislodged the molar mic I had installed before leaving the hotel earlier and handed it over. I had already sent in encrypted typed reports and the final video interview was just a recount of the last few days that I hadn’t been able to upload yet. I signed every affidavit he put in front of me, half numb with shock. He put me in the cab to the train station with a gentle press of his hand on the small of my back as he bent to whisper in my ear.

“I’ll get him a message along with the rest of the Miami files. He won’t be hung out to dry. He’ll have everything he needs to make the case against the rest of August’s associates. And he’ll know you're on your way to being okay, too.” 

When I looked up at him, I could tell he saw my gratitude, even if I didn’t yet know how to voice it. Even if I still doubted every decision I’d made so far.

“Will?” I managed to whisper.

“Will’s gonna be fine. He has more than a little R&R coming, too. Don’t worry.”

We said a final goodbye and I headed off, ready to try to put this all behind me, starting with a deep detox. I spent weeks in the remote cabin, fully stocked with everything I needed to avoid everyone for as long as I wanted, including a method of emergency contact if things got really bad.

I rocked myself to sleep every night only to enter dreams that turned to nightmares. August leading me down a floral path, only to turn a corner and find myself ensnared in briars and brambles. August preparing a delicious meal only to serve me Will’s head on a platter. August making me come, over and over again, only to find myself ripped apart at the seams. 

I dragged myself out of bed every morning, no matter how badly I wanted to curl up in the sheets and just die. I journaled every day and raged at the papers that held my lovelorn tears, my foolish fantasies and ridiculous notions. At night, I burned them in a fire meant to keep me warm, but every bit of me felt cold and lifeless. I took long swims in the crystalline lake and long walks in the woods and prayed that maybe I’d twist an ankle and fall down the mountainside. I longed to be lost and rid of the torture I felt forever.

I could tell my storm was easing when I awoke one morning with the recollection of August morphing into Sy. When the drugs were finally fully out of my system, I sat quietly by the placid water and put all my pieces back in place. August Walker was a drug kingpin who had put an insane amount of product on the street. August Walker was a murderer, who had put his competition out of business permanently. August Walker was a traitor who had bribed politicians and military brass for national secrets that he planned to sell to the highest bidder. August Walker was a monster.

No amount of fucking was ever going to change those facts.

I pushed the button on the SAT phone and waited for Walter to answer while I practiced the speech over and over in my head.

Syverson

Syverson turned off the ignition of the rental car, peered at the number on the house and checked it against the message from Ramos on his phone. He stepped out and made his way up the narrow path to the front door, gravel crunching under his feet. He stood still at the door and paused before knocking, suddenly unsure if he’d made the right decision. 

“Ah, fuck it,” he muttered and raised his hand to rap on the wood. In the moments of stillness as he waited for a sound from inside, a shuffle of feet, any tell-tale sign that someone would answer, he took several deep breaths and tried to calm his nerves. It would be the first time seeing her again after months with no communication and he hadn’t exactly been invited by the occupants of the house.

“Comment puis-je vous aider?*” the elderly man asked, peering out the entryway with a perplexed look as if trying to recall who might be scheduled to visit today.

“Mr. Malloy? It’s Dean Syverson, from the States. I’m sorry I don’t speak French. I’m friends with your daughter, Frankie, er Francesca. I was told she was here.”

“Papa, c'est qui?**” a voice called from down the hall and Syverson’s heart almost exploded with elation. He took note of the waver in her voice as she appeared next to her father looking radiant in her summer dress and spoke again. “Sy? What are you…?” 

Sy wanted her to burst through the door and wrap her whole body around him so he could slip his arms around her back and hold her close to breath her in. In reality, she froze in place next to her father, though he didn’t imagine the way he saw her stop herself from reaching for him. At the sound of throat clearing, Frankie turned to her father to speak.

“Papa, tu te rappelles de Dean ? Du lycée. À l'époque on l'appelait Sy.***”

Sy watched as the old man seemed to light up with memory and a small smile, then listened to a conversation between father and daughter that he couldn’t understand. Frankie’s father reached out to shake his hand with a wink, then turned to head back into the front room. 

“Wanna take a walk with me?” Frankie asked, motioning down the path. “Or I could invite you in and we could do the pleasantries of small talk over cold lemonade and cookies I baked the other day?”

“You bake?” Sy asked with a chuckle. 

“Been goin’ through all of Mom’s old recipes. It’s therapeutic in more ways than one. And sorry about that. Dad’s kinda given up on English, especially now that she’s passed,” Frankie answered and watched Sy’s face fall a little, eyebrows furrowed and head atilt.

“Well now I’m the one that’s sorry. I didn’t know about your Mom.”

“Thank you. It happened just before my last mission. I hated leaving but I promised him we’d spend time together once I was done with work.” She gave a quick glance back into the house.

Sy heaved a breath in and out. “Let’s walk.” 

He waited for Frankie to close the front door and let her lead the way as they stepped back onto the gravel path and followed it around to the back of the house and down into the large, lush garden where she motioned to a stone bench facing a pond.

“I feel like I know this answer, because I doubt you’d be here if you did, but I have to ask: Do you hate me?” Frankie asked, turning to him with a look of concern on her face. 

“Sugar I could never hate you,” Sy answered immediately without any hesitation. “Couldn’t for the life of me figure out why you shut off all communication and never came back, though. Marshall wasn’t exactly forthcoming either.”

“Did they at least tell you about...? About the case?” Frankie asked, unwilling to voice the name just yet.

“You mean the part where no one was ever gonna let him take the stand?” Frankie nodded at Sy’s question. “Yeah. Said if he had an opportunity to implicate any of the people he’d bribed information from, national security was fucked. Sure. Apparently, all those other traitors had guardian angels sitting on their shoulders. The number of retirement announcements from the military and congress was staggering. Is that why you didn’t come back?”

“Are you asking if it made me sick to my stomach? That August Walker took the fall for all of them? I guess that’s part of it for sure, yeah.”

“Fuck, Sugar. You really were in deep with him.”

“I was blind, Sy. I wasn’t not doing my job but I let a lot of things get in the way of reality and when I found out they were all getting off the hook I couldn’t stomach it anymore.” 

Frankie turned to stare out over the water while Sy took a moment to ponder her words and consider if he really wanted the answer to his next question. It could make all the difference to the end result of his impromptu visit. But if he didn’t ask, he’d never know and if somehow things worked out between them, the possibility would hang over his head forever.

“Did you love him?”

He watched her slow-blink her eyes closed, inhale and let out a deep sigh. He felt the bottom begin to drop from underneath him, afraid now of her answer and what it would mean. He wanted to reach out and grab the words back, stuff them down his throat and never let them out again. He swore to whatever god would listen that if she would just come home with him when this conversation was over, he’d never give August Walker another thought. When she spoke, he almost couldn’t hear her answer, the way the blood from his beating heart rushed passed his ears.

“Not really.” Frankie turned back to Sy and opened her eyes. As her voice trickled through the dense fog of his worry, he could at least see the promise in what she was saying. “For a while I thought I did. It took me time to figure out that I just loved the way he made me feel. Alive and reckless with no one to answer to but someone who only loved me for the person they thought I was.”

“And who are you, Frankie?”

“I’m figuring that out now, Sy. That’s the other part of why I couldn’t come back. I didn’t want to step back into whatever it was we had started again without a better understanding of what my life means now. And what that means for whoever is going to be a part of it.”

“What do you mean ‘whoever’, Sugar?” Sy asked, struggling to hide the emotion her words had stirred within him. He was certain she couldn’t possibly think he wasn’t the one even as he realized how little time they’d actually had together. It killed him to think she might not give him a chance to prove how much he wanted to give her everything.

“I don't want someone afraid of losing me,” Frankie replied.

“I already did. I ain't afraid of it anymore. Just don't want to ever feel it again.” Sy watched her face carefully, searching for any sign that she didn’t understand exactly what he was saying. Just to make sure, he spoke again. “I ain’t looking to change you, Frankie. I ain’t looking to stop you from being whoever you want to be. I just wanna be there with you for as long as I can. If that’s okay.”

“Fuck, where did you come from?” Frankie asked after considering his words and smiled at his comfortable laugh.

“Frankie, it’s always been you for me. Who you are now? She ain’t really all that different from that wildcat I fell in love with twenty years ago. I love every fuckin’ thing about you.” Sy saw the doubt creep on her face. “Yeah, Sugar, all of it. You are a strong, self-aware woman who ain’t afraid to take what she needs. I count myself lucky you ain’t never found someone else interested in all of that and if I don’t get you to let me kiss you right now to show you what I’m talking about, well this whole trip’s probably been for naught.”

Sy lifted a hand to brush his fingers past her shoulder and smooth up the side of her neck, pressing the tips into her nape and applying the gentlest of pressure, waiting for her to make up her mind and lean into him. When she finally did, her lips crashed into his and he felt gravity flip as he grabbed on to her with his other arm and pulled her all the way against him. He slid his hand down to her hip and urged her to lift a leg and spin to straddle him so he could feel her weight and know she was real.

Sy smoothed both hands up her back as he held her close and kissed her deep, parting her lips with his tongue and licking into the space she made for him while she did the same. When he realized he wasn’t going to be able to stop if they kept kissing for much longer, he raised his hands to tangle in her hair and pull her head from his as he cleared his throat and spoke low.

“Sorry, that’s more than I thought I’d get from you at the moment. I doubt your dad or the neighbors wanna see what else I’d like to do to you right now.”

“There are no neighbors nearby, Sy. And Dad doesn’t spend time in the back of the house.”

Sy couldn’t help himself from stiffening at the thought and raised an eyebrow in question. He grew even harder as he watched Frankie bite her bottom lip and nod as she ran her hands down his chest landing at the clasp of his slacks. She unhooked the waistband and slid the zipper down agonizingly slowly before reaching in to grab his aching cock and push his boxers down enough so that he was free and could feel her touch on his burning skin.

He dropped his hands to her thighs, smoothing the thin fabric up her legs and sweeping his fingers over her ass cheeks while she stroked him lazily and bent to return to the kiss. His hands found the strings of her thong and he slipped a thumb under the back so he could grab hold and tug up, applying pressure to her clit. Frankie moaned into his mouth and arched her back into the sensation.

Sy pulled the flimsy material to the side and reached his hand further down and under her ass so he could just feel the wetness as he brushed his fingers against the delicate lips he could barely reach. He only realized how much he was also loving the way her hand squeezed and pulled him when she stopped suddenly and he broke the kiss to see what could be wrong. Instead of disaster, he was met with her mischievous eyes as she wiggled the hand that had previously been making him feel so good under her skirt while her other hand pulled the material back so he could see exactly what she was doing.

He groaned and watched rapt as Frankie slid her fingers inside her underwear and into her cunt. She pressed deep and moved around before she pulled them back out glistening with her own juices. And just like that he was in heaven again as she smeared her slick all over his cock and bent to whisper in his ear.

“Fuck me, Sy.”

“Gladly.” Sy eased her thong to the side down her thigh as she pressed her feet into the earth beneath them to lift up and settle herself back down his length with a luxurious sigh. She had barely engulfed him completely before he began to squeeze his ass to pump his hips into her with fervor.

With her hands on Sy’s shoulders, Frankie used the leverage to lift and lower herself on him in tandem with his thrusts, as he delved deeper and deeper. He felt every squeeze of her walls around him and swallowed her cries of pleasure as the head of his engorged member brushed her cervix again and again. 

Sy wanted to put his hands on her body, on her skin. He thought about lifting her dress up and over her head, but settled on simply wrapping an arm around her waist and sliding the other up her back so he could manipulate her movements to make sure they were both feeling as good as they could. He wanted this to last forever, but seeing her now, hearing her moan above him for the first time in months knowing the last time he saw her he was making her come too caused a rush of sensation to course through his body. He pulled away from their kiss again.

“I ain’t gonna last Sugar, not like this.”

“I need you to hang on a little bit longer, Sy. Please,” Frankie begged him, grinding her hips a few more times before she did the unthinkable. After easing herself off him, she pulled her dress off exactly the way Sy had just wanted to. She dropped it to the grass and then sank to her knees and finally her back with the dress as a makeshift blanket. She reached out for him and he tumbled forward off the bench and between her open legs, pressing a kiss to her lips as he palmed a breast.

His lips moved over her chin and throat as he began to ease his way down her body, pulling her tiny thong along with him and pushing it off her legs. He took a few moments to push his own shoes and pants off as well pull his shirt over his head and now just as naked as Frankie, Sy positioned himself between her legs, shoulders spreading her wide so he could get a good long look at her puffy, pink pussy dripping and waiting for him.

“Not sure I’m gonna last long this way either, but we’ll give it a try,” he teased before putting his mouth on her. He nipped at her clit and rubbed his forefingers along her slit, easing in and out with a tease she whimpered for. When he heard her beg with a “please” he slid his fingers all the way in and licked around them. Sy pumped and pressed the palm of his hand against her mound for a moment before he pulled his hand all the way out and let his tongue do the rest of the work. 

He felt his cock rub against the fabric of her dress as he rutted against the ground and fought to stem the growing pressure.

“So fucking turned on eating you out like this, Frankie,” he groaned into her cunt before returning to the job. Frankie held his head in place, grinding up against him. When she came in a rush of heat and wet, Sy took the opportunity to crawl back up and slip his dick inside her, thrusting and pumping with vigor. He grazed his fingers up the side of her body and then watched as she grabbed his hand and moved it to her throat, pressing just a little.

“Just hold still right there,” she gasped. “Fuck me and I’ll do the rest.”

Sy grunted in pleasure at the thought and did as he was instructed. He felt Frankie lean up into his hand. All the effort it took to keep his hand precisely still for her meant his attention wasn’t on how good she felt around him as he pumped in and out. Where he thought he’d need just a few more strokes, Sy now felt the time slip by as she moved into his hand and back out again, playing with her own breath for him. When he finally felt her tighten around him, he wasn’t prepared for how fast his own release came as well. He was so caught up in the way she maneuvered that he hadn’t noticed the build at all.

They lay naked on the grass next to each other, catching their breath with hands on their chests, waiting until the pounding of their hearts had resided before turning to face one another.

“You sure no one could see us?”

“Would you hate me if I said no?” Frankie teased before leaning over for a kiss to taste herself on his lips. “Kidding. No one can see us. Even if Dad ventured back to the kitchen, where he never likes to go anymore, there are enough trees and bushes in the garden to obscure this view. Our closest neighbors are a couple kilometers away. Your virtue is safe, promise.”

“Funny.” Sy rolled her on her back and kissed her long and deep again before settling along her side, drawing lazy lines along her skin. “You know I didn’t know what to expect when I saw you again. I’m real glad how this has turned out so far.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you in limbo forever, I swear. I just needed to get my head on straight.” Frankie sat up and reached for Sy’s pants, handing them to him and motioning to her own dress below.

“Did I fuck up your timeline?” Sy asked, plucking his shirt off the ground next. He stuck his arms through the sleeves and tucked his thumbs in the neck hole to pull the shirt over his head, elbows wide, before checking around for his shoes.

“I’ll recover, I’m sure.” Frankie slipped the dress back on and did her own sweep of the lawn, looking for her panties.

“I got those, Sugar,” Sy grinned, making a show of tucking the small bundle into his pocket. “Safe keeping till you come back home.”

Frankie reached up to run her fingers through Sy’s hair, brushing a few stray pieces of grass from his locks and let him do the same for her before pulling him in for more kisses. She broke away reluctantly and hooked her arm through his to lead the way back up to the house.

“I honestly haven’t decided when that’ll be, Sy.”

“I’m pretty good at waiting for you if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Or if I ever will.”

Sy stopped short and turned her to him.

“I wondered about that. Not for my own selfish reasons, mind you. But I got to thinking about some of the things you told me over dinner that night. About having a safety net of sorts. This is a nice place.”

“I also told you I liked being useful…but you’re not wrong. It’s been a long time since I took care of myself.”

“Or let someone take care of you?”

“Sy…”

“I ain’t talking about keeping you under wraps, barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, Sugar. I just mean, you don’t need to go it alone. Look, you are free to make your own decisions about going back to the agency, finding something else to do, or quitting altogether. But I wanna be with you, Frankie. Wherever that is. If you wanna stay here, I’ll let you know right now that if you’ll have me, I’m ready to leave it all behind, too.”

“You’d walk away with me, Sy?”

“I would.“

Translations of the French *,**,**:

* “How can I help you?”

** “Papa, who is it?”

*** “Papa, you remember Dean? From high school. We called him Sy back then.”

Taglists

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[wardenparker]

Down the Rabbit Hole - ch 5

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.    

Rating: E for Explicit. 18+! Word Count: 9.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings - mentions of deceased spouse, a lot of food and alcohol consumption, family recipes, age gap, cursing.* Sexy shower time, a whole truck load of anger, fisticuffs, a bunch of angry people being upset with each other. Summary: A blissful morning becomes a whirlwind nightmare when Tequila sees your tattoo. But the biggest revelation doesn’t come until you’ve gotten all the way back to Louisville. Notes: Guys, I just...this chapter happens very fast and there is a *lot* of stuff going on. And I just love absolutely everything about it. 😂

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Epilogue

Sunlight streaming through the curtains is what wakes you, traffic on the busy Boston streets leaking into the beautiful calm of your room and heavy arm around your waist anchoring you to the mattress. Tex is curled around your back like a huge koala, holding on and nuzzling into the back of your neck in his dreams. The general lack of clothing and ache between your thighs would be telltale if you had been drunk when everything happened, but you since you weren't it's just a lovely reminder. Every second is catalogued away in your memory, right down to the moment you both collapsed, sweaty and satiated, and fell asleep in each other's arms within minutes.

Humming, Tex is aware the second you wake, stirring from his own deep and satisfying sleep. "Good morning." He grins and kisses the back of your neck without even opening his eyes. "Did I manage to convince you?" He asks playfully, telling you last night before falling asleep he was going to demand an answer on if you preferred cowboys in the morning.

"Got a secret for you," you mumble, turning over in his arms to curl into his chest. If not for the damn family brunch you're supposed to be at this morning, you would be very happy not to move from this bed. "I've always liked cowboys."

Tequila barks out a sleep rough chuckle and pulls you closer, rolling onto his back so that you are sprawled out on top of him. "That so, cowgirl?" He huffs playfully.

“Always.” The nod you give him is solemn, even if your grin is playful. “Watched Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid the first time when I was eleven and never got over it.”

You would make a perfect spouse for a Statesman agent then. Tequila knows he can't tell you about things until it becomes more serious, but he winks at you. "Well then, I guess you're in luck." He teases, leaning in and kissing you while he reaches up to grab his hat off the bedpost. He pulls away and sets it on your head.

“It’s about as subtle as a heart attack.” His hat shades you like a beach umbrella when he pops it on top of your bed head and you laugh, dopey on attraction and good dreams. “I like it though. Might have to get one of my own eventually.”

“No need to be subtle.” Tex grins at you and rolls his hips up, letting you feel the very unsubtle thing that is hard between you. “Not when I’m showing my hand.”

“Good.” When you look down at him again you hum a little, bowing your head to steal another kiss. “I hate games. One hundred percent honesty all the way.”

He would pull you against him for another round, but he got a copy of the itinerary, same as you, and he knows that you need to be there for the brunch. “How about we explore in the shower while we get ready?” He poses, smirking against your lips as he squeezes your ass.

“Sexy and responsible. I like it.” You sit up reluctantly, knowing that it will have to be a quickie since you’re supposed to be downstairs in the dining room in half an hour. “C’mon, cowboy. I’m sure the shower has enough room for two.”

“I made sure of it.” Tex sits up as you scamper off the bed. Hating that you are walking away from him, but admiring the way your ass shakes. “Plenty of time to make sure your knees tremble when you walk.” He growls confidently before he throws himself out of bed to chase after you.

“Planning on seducing me, were you?” Even though you make it to the bathroom first, his long arm reaches past you to turn on the shower head and you smirk at him over your shoulder. “Have I been seduced?”

“Have you?” Tex winks at you and grins. “You tell me.”

"Fifty-fifty," you decide, after giving him a good, long look up and down. Tex isn't shy about anything, least of all his body, and he gives you a flex for good measure. "Call it a mutual seduction."

"I can't deny that." He chuckles and glances down pointedly at his groin for good measure.

"If you want more, you gotta get in here." One step backward and you're in the shower, tipping your head back to luxuriate in the fierce spray of hot water. "Otherwise we're gonna be late."

"Wash first, play after." Tex promises, sending you a wink and ducking his head down to lick a line of water off your chest, perilously close to your nipple.

"How is that after?" You whine, gasping at how close he comes to where you wish he would have directed that troublesome tongue of his.

He chuckles again and straights up, sending you a small wink. "You don't want me to wash you?" He asks with a play pout.

"Well...if you're offering." The nearby facecloth is in your hand immediately, getting soaking wet under the hot water to hand over so he can lather it - and you - up.

Taking the washrag, Tex smirks and motions for you to turn around. "Back first." He tells you, reaching out to slap your ass when you obey him.

"Yes, sir." Giggling, you shake your ass for him before stretching your arms and giving a contented sigh. This is pretty close to a perfect morning, as far as morning after scenarios go, and you're planning on enjoying the hell out of it.

He tucks his tongue between his teeth and starts to wash you. Just because he's copping a feel here and there - okay, a lot of feels - doesn't mean he isn't going to wash you properly.

It's nearly hypnotic, aside from the distracting hands grabbing and squeezing and making both of you giggle or moan, alternately. When he finally gets to your other arm, he starts rubbing at it like he's trying to scrub your skin clean off and you laugh again. "Sometimes the makeup gets smudgy before it comes off," you explain, having entirely forgotten that you covered your tattoo in the first place. There were different, much more fun things to think about. "I got the heavy-duty stuff a while back. Like what they use on movie sets for actors."

Tex frowns, not commenting as he works the layers of makeup off your skin. Thinking that the placement is odd as he swipes at it with the cloth. He doesn't want to hurt you but there is a knot of dread that is starting to build as the ink starts to slowly become visible under the flesh colored makeup.

"You don't have to be timid about it." Turning half around, you reach for the cloth but see the utter dismay on his face. "Don't tell me you're against ink?" That would be...extremely inconvenient. But it's not like you have Eat Me written above your cunt or something. Although that would be fucking hilarious. "I know everybody at Statesman is into the clean-cut look, but I've had this for years."

Tex shakes his head, unable to explain why this tattoo has him floored. "I—I don't." He murmurs softly, standing up and stepping back from you. His heart aches and he hates that he's seen it. Wishing he didn't know who else sported this tattoo. "I—shit." He shakes his head and closes his eyes on a sigh.

"What's wrong?" He looks like he's seen a ghost, which makes you cringe a bit and suddenly wish you weren't both standing naked in such an intimate setting. "I—I don't...have a soulmate. If that's what you're worried about. I used to have a bunch more tattoos and a couple of weeks ago they...they just disappeared. And that only happens when...when your soulmate dies. So don't think you've got, ya know, competition or anything."

His jaw rocks when he realizes you don't know. You don't fucking know. Confusion mars your beautiful face and he knows that you are going to be hurt. Hell, he's hurt. Jack didn't fucking let him know and he knows that motherfucker was aware of his interest in you. It wasn't like they hadn't prowled around together enough to know when the other had taken a shinin' to a particular woman.

“I’m really gonna need you to say something.” He looks angry and it’s unsettling in the very worst way, making you tense up and cross your arms over your chest in a protective stance. “Like now, please.”

"I've - I've seen that tattoo." Tequila admits, hating how the weekend is now over. Of course it is. "Recently."

“What?” Standing still and perfectly stable, you nearly fall over from the way that seemingly simple news rocks through you and makes your heart skips beats on its way up into your throat. Second soulmates are supposed to be a fairy tale. “On who? When?”

"I—I can't tell you." Tex can't say anything, not without getting into the classified details and Champ's already riding his ass for being 'too lax' with classifications. "Not yet."

“Well that’s un-fucking-acceptable.” And definitely makes you think he could be lying or creating an excuse to get out of seeing you again when you get back to Kentucky. Which is both hurtful are extremely fucking disappointing. You had thought Tex was a better man than that. Of course - you had thought Jack was a better man, too. Maybe you’re just a shit judge of character. “Second soulmates are impossible. If you saw my tattoo on someone then maybe my soulmate didn’t die. They just…had plastic surgery or something?”

You're her. The woman that put marks on Jack's body. The same one that your soulmate was killed by Jack just a few weeks ago. No wonder Jack kept running from you, guilt written on his face. "I—I'm sorry, darlin'." Tex shakes his head and swallows harshly, aware that you are pissed. "It's…it's classified."

“What the fuck does that mean?” It’s too much to digest, after how much fun last night was and how much Jack disappearing into thin air hurt you earlier in the week, to think that Tex is just wriggling his way out of things after getting what he wanted.

He doesn't like the hurt on your face. Not at all. Reaching up, he cups your cheek and stares into your eyes. "I promise you that I'm not trying to hurt you." He chokes out, his heart clenching and he fucking hates that he ever suggested a goddamn shower. He could have been blissfully unaware of who's soulmate you are. "It— it'll make sense soon."

Instinct takes over, making you recoil and slap his hand away the second it touches your skin. The tears are hot and angry, pressing against the backs of your eyes like prickling needles when you shove him out of the way to get out of the shower - half-clean and half-mortified. “If you wanted a one-night thing I would’ve been fine with that,” you tell him flatly, even though it’s a fucking lie. You don’t look back as you pull open the door of the shower and step out, grabbing for the closest towel to cover up with. “You didn’t have to be fucking mean about it.”

"I'm...” Tex sighs and his head drops down between his shoulders. "That's not what happened." He whispers as you march out of the bathroom.

******

Brunch is excruciating, making excuses for his absence to your family because you hadn’t wanted to spoil the morning after your cousin’s wedding with being outwardly angry. Instead you simmer all morning with too many mimosas, and on the plane with your headphones jammed into your ears staring stock forward so he doesn’t dare try to talk to you on the way back to Kentucky.

No more cowboys. You lecture yourself sternly, hauling your weekender bag up onto your shoulder the second you deplane and speed walking away from the broad-and-tall frame of the cowboy who had driven you both to the airport. You’ll take an Uber, thank you very much. Now more cowboys and no more putting your heart on the line. Getting it bashed with a proverbial sledgehammer twice in one week is plenty enough to learn your lesson.

Tequila sighs, jogging up to you and grabbing your bag. While he understands you hate him, he can't let you go off on your own. Not when he knows who your soulmate is. It's a security risk and he wonders if that's why Jack sent him to the wedding with you. "Come on, you don't have to talk to me, but don't be dumb."

“Give it back.” Fury doesn’t usually last this long for you, but you’re seething with it to cover up how disappointed and hurt you are.

"No." Tex shakes his head, pulling it back out of your reach. "Get in the damn truck." He tells you. "I'm gunna get you back to Statesman unharmed. Then you can never talk to me again."

“Why do you even care?” Considering he’s taller, faster, and stronger than you, it’s not like you can overpower him and get your bag back, so you stare him down instead.

"Because I care about you." He insists. "You might not believe that, but I do."

“Bullshit.” Still, you pull open the door of his enormous pickup truck yourself because it will annoy him that you didn’t wait, and swing yourself up into the passenger seat. You’re mad enough to you’ve moved over to spiteful, but at least he hasn’t seen you cry. “Just take me home.”

"I will." Tex clenches his jaw as he climbs into the truck and his fist curls around the steering wheel hard enough to make the plastic groan. "Bet your ass I will."

Fucking dramatic ass cowboys. You sink down in the seat and squeeze your eyes shut, desperately wishing you were going home to New Hampshire to sit with your sister or out to New York City to hang out with your brother. Anything but the little house halfway in between the two men who have kicked you to the curb like last week's garbage.

As the truck barrels its way towards Statesman, the anger inside Tequila builds. Pissed at Jack for what he's done. The selfish son of a bitch caused you to hate him. He stews with every mile that the tires eat up, nearly red faced by the time that truck turns onto the road that leads towards Statesman housing.

As soon as he pulls into your driveway you jump out of the truck, grabbing your bag from the cargo bed and heading straight inside. The sooner you can get into a bath with an army of scented candles and a bottle of something much stronger than watered down mimosas or airline nips, the better. You can just wash away the horrific memories of this weekend and never speak of it again.

The moment the front door of your cabin slams, Tequila throws the truck in reverse, the tires squealing from how hard he stomps on the gas. Fury making him sling the truck around and gun it as he throws it into drive. Hearing the engine roar with a grim wince of satisfaction as the V-12 lurches forward.

******

The door to Jack's office slams open under his palm, a satisfying creak and groan of heavy wood mirroring the stomp of Tequila's boots. His vision is so tunneled by righteous anger that he doesn't see Champ lounging in the armchair off to the side of Jack's heavy desk - only focused on the man he came to confront. There's no hesitation in his step, singularly motivated by the boiling in his blood when he storms forward and swings, connecting with Jack's jaw with flawless precision. "You son of a bitch!"

Jack goes sprawling to the floor, shocked but he's quickly bouncing back. "What the fuck!" He shouts, picking himself up off the floor and glaring at his friend. "Have you lost your fucking mind?"

"Have you?" Tequila spits back, slamming his fist into Jack's desk next. The crash is satisfying in an entirely separate way. "How could you not tell me?!"

"Tell you what?" Jack demands, frowning and shaking his head to look over at Champ. "What the fuck didn't I tell you?"

"Her!" Tequila bellows, towering over Jack with a red face and hurt eyes as the older man gets back to his feet. "Did you think I wouldn't find out she's your fucking soulmate?"

Shit. The anger drains out of Jack's face and he stares at Tequila. "She's— it's a mistake." He chokes out. "I'm not – I can't be her soulmate." He insists, begging the younger man to believe him. "You know that."

"I saw her fucking tattoo, Jack." He doesn't even notice that Champ has jumped up to slam Jack's office door shut, containing the noise as well as the news. Tequila is too wrapped in his own fury to notice anything at all. "You knew and you didn't say a fucking word and now she's furious with me because you went and shoved your head in the goddamn dirt."

"You didn't have to fuck her!" Jack shouts back, anger surprising him although he had known what would happen if the other agent went with you. He had known that Tequila was attracted to you, but he had ignored it. "You coulda kept your dick in your pants for once in your goddamn life."

"I wouldn't have if you had said something!" The outrage on both ends is obvious, but Tequila feels it twisting in his guts like something ugly. "I'd have kept my damn mouth shut and kept her company and kept my fucking feelings to myself if you had just said something."

"Feelings?" Jack scoffs and shakes his head. "Since when is horny a fucking feeling?"

"Fuck you." Tequila bites out, but Champ grabs his arm before he can wind up for another good hit.

"Cut the shit, both of you." He orders, tone short and sharp and brokering no insubordination. "What the hell happened?"

Jack snaps his head around and blows out a breath, realizing that Champ is the room still. He had completely forgotten about the older man after Tequila busted into the room like a pissed off bull in a china shop. "I don't have a fucking clue." He spits, glaring at Tex and nods towards him. "Why don't you ask the hot head?"

"Agent Chicken Shit backed out of taking his soulmate to a wedding this weekend and asked me if I could take her instead." Tequila wrenches his arm out of Champ's firm grip, feeling like he's been caught breaking his brother's nose by his father all over again. "Knowing goddamn well that I—I'm in love with her." Saying it out loud makes him wish he could just storm back across the Statesman campus and explain everything to you. To beg you to believe and forgive him. But it's not his place. Not at all.

Jack snorts and rolls his eyes. "Wantin' to fuck ain't being 'in love'." Jack spits back, furious to hear those words out of his mouth and worse, he wonders if you feel the same way. It pisses him off and he wants to punch the righteous fucker in the nose for touching you.

"When have I ever punched you over wanting to fuck the same girl?" It's not as though they hadn't, after all, but Tequila still glowers at Jack across the desk.

"Can't recall you ever even using the word 'love' before," Champ comments, interested to see exactly how red in the face Jack is going to get.

His teeth are about to crack he's clenching his jaw so hard. Nearly growling at the way that Tequila flusters. Breathing heavily as the younger man turns towards Champ with a shrug of his shoulders. "Because I ain't felt it before." He admits, shaking his head. "But there's somethin' about her."

"She does seem to be a point of fascination." Champ's no fool. He hasn't missed Jack's attentions being centered on you, or Tequila's stolen glances. He hadn't missed the flirting - both intentional and not - and he had listened diligently to what Diana told him without over-divulging or betraying your confidence.

"She's a shiny new toy." Jack hisses, puffing up his chest and glaring at Tequila, ready to throw a few punches of his own considering what he's done. "He'll get tired of her, just like every other woman he's ever taken to bed."

"Look who's goddamn talking," Tequila hisses back. "Barely took you a week to get sick of her and without even the good manners to tell her you why."

"I was trying to PROTECT HER!" Jack roars, his own fist slamming down onto the table as he lashes out. Picking up the bottle of '87 and throwing it against the wall, shattering it and splashing whiskey over the walls.

"Alright, the both of you!" Champ doesn't raise his voice. He doesn't need to. The disapproval and the anger in it clear without needing more volume. "Tequila, you take your ass up to my office and you stay there until I come talk to you. I want both sides of this and it ain't gonna be clear with you shouting over each other like beasts."

Jack glowers, staring down Tequila as he marches out of his office and hisses as the door rattles on its hinges from the force of him slamming it shut behind him. "She didn't need to know." He defends roughly. "She doesn't need to know."

"What the hell happened?" Champ turns his eyes on Jack, knowing Tequila will do as he's been told and wondering what catalyst had pushed Jack to run the way he had. "You got embarrassed that Diana caught you in an amorous moment? That's nothin' to be ashamed of."

"She's NOT my soulmate!" Jack shouts, fury making spittle fly out of his mouth and his voice cracks in his desperation for someone to believe him. To convince himself.

"That's up to you." And Champ won't push him to admit otherwise. "But she's human. And she deserves a damn apology. Di said she was beside herself upset at you walkin' out, even if she hid it well. I can't imagine Tequila spurning her now is going to make her feel any better, although it ain't your fault the boy lost his nerve when he realized."

"He wants a soulmate." Jack mumbles, his shoulders rounding at the reminder that he had treated you abysmally. They had done a lot more than just been each other's wingman for picking up women over the years. There had been plenty of serious conversations between women and glasses of whiskey. "He's not going to be with someone else's if he knows them."

"So you thought letting him discover it on his own would...go smoother?" He's not even going to go into how jumpy Jack is being about his own attraction to you.

"How was I suppose' to know that the fucking idiot didn't know?" Jack huffs defensively. "I showed him the damn mark on my skin. It's not like the fucking things on her tit. I thought he saw it on her."

"Alright, alright." Champ shakes his head and groans, feeling like everybody's damn father and not for the first time. "I'll go deal with him, but you..." He could just order him to apologize. To walk over to your house right now and make things right. But he knows that won't actually help things, it will only make Jack dig his heels in harder. "Whether you're ready to tell her or not, she still deserves an apology."

"For what?" Jack spread his hands up helplessly before he props them on his hips. "For killin' her soulmate? For her being stuck with me? For kissin' her and running away? For keepin' it from her?" He asks, not sure which sin he has to ask forgiveness for.

"You gotta decide that yourself." He had just meant the bit about running off, but as long as Jack is willing to entertain the idea of actually telling you the truth, he's not going to discourage it.

"She deserves better, Champ." Jack murmurs quietly. "Better 'in me. Hell, better than the kid."

"That's not up to you to decide." Champ's voice is just as quiet, but far gentler. "It's up to her. And if she's rightfully pissed at the both of you after this week, then that's that. But at the very least, she should know that you didn't run off because of anything she did. Y'all are actin' in her best interest as far as you're concerned, but all she can see is two men makin' her feel good and then acting like she did wrong for following down the paths you set."

"Shit." Jack closes his eyes, pissed off at himself for being a fool and giving Tequila the opportunity to hurt your already bruised feelings. He should have just taken you.

"Clean up this mess," Champ points to the broken liquor bottle on the floor. "And then go clean up the one you made with her. I'll deal with Tequila."

Jack stares at him for a moment, nodding quietly before the older man turns around and leaves the office. Leaving Jack in the wake of the mess he had found himself in.

Champ heads down the hall with purpose, shaking his head at the ridiculous state his two agents have made of things. He knows he brought you here to be protected, but apparently he should have been protecting you from their dumb asses as well. Thankfully, Tequila is waiting in his office like he was ordered, leg bouncing with nerves but no damage done. "Alright," he huffs, shutting the door behind him. "Your turn."

"Now Champ..." Tequila springs to his feet, aware that he should have handled things better than he had, but he's mad. "Whiskey didn't tell me she was his soulmate. I wouldn't have gotten involved with her if he had of."

"Don't think I know that?" The boy's sense of propriety is usually aces, even if his common sense can lack. "That's not why you got put in time out, Tequila. I can't punish you for makin' a fool of yourself with a lady. Either of you. Even if you deserve it."

"Then why am I here?" There is an edge of defiance in his voice, residual anger from the entire ordeal.

"Because you attacked a senior agent without provocation." Champ tells him flatly. "And I can't be sure y'all won't piss each other off enough that it will happen again."

"He fucking deserved it, and you know it." Tequila argues, standing up and putting his hand on his hip.

"Not the point, son." He can't make a judgement call on this if he ever wants it to get resolved. "It's insubordination and you know it."

Tequila rolls his eyes and huffs before he begrudgingly acknowledges that what Champ is saying is true. "So what's my punishment?" He asks. "Week scrubbing the warehouse?"

"Manual labor ain't gonna prove a point to you." Champ knows that. The kid comes from honest labor and hard work. It rolls right off his shoulders. "You're gonna take an assignment for me. Give you time to cool off and separate yourself from our fascinating lady so you can cool the hell off."

Opening his mouth in protest immediately, he manages to catch himself before he says something. Closing his mouth and just standing there. He knows he deserves it, even if he doesn't say so.

“Kingsman proposed an agent swap about a month ago.” Moving around him, Champ motions to Tequila to sit before plopping down in the large wingback chair behind his desk. “Been debating who to send. Looks like you just gave me my answer.”

"What am I gonna do in London, Champ?" The Texan whines, giving his boss a horrified expression. "They don't know the first thing about ropin'."

“So you’ll teach ‘em.” The side drawer of Champ’s desk holds the folder of papers from Kingsman as they rebuild, and Champ flips it open to skim through the paperwork. “Change of scenery and company might do ya some good, Tequila.” He glances up with one eyebrow half-raised. “After an apology.”

"I'm not apologizing to that fucker." He doesn't care how long Champs sends him to 'Merry ol' London', he will never apologize to Whiskey for belting him like he deserved.

"Not to him." Champ nearly laughs, but he catches himself. He's meant to be angry. A disciplinarian. At least for right now. "To her. She didn't ask for any of this shit."

"I can't apologize without telling her why I backed away." He reasons with Champ. "If that asshole had just manned up, this wouldn't be an issue."

Seeing as he can't actually argue with that, Champ sits back in his chair and eyes Tequila for a second before he lets an approving nod escape. "At least tell her you're goin' and that it has nothin' to do with her. Don't let her hear it third hand and wonder what the hell she might have done to make both of you run." He's gonna have to pay a visit to you himself, he thinks, and make sure you get something nice for the restaurant or let you hire a second-in-command, or something. Anything. Just to make sure you don't resign and he loses the ability to protect you.

Tequila nods and shuffles his feet slightly. "I'll go over there now and explain." He mumbles. "But it might have to be through a door. She's really fuckin' mad at me because I wouldn't tell her where I'd seen her tattoo."

"Can't say I blame her." Hell, if he were a woman, he'd have given them both far more hell than you seem to. "Do what you gotta go tonight. You're on the jet no later than 0900 tomorrow morning."

"Yes sir." Tequila nods once and turns on his heel. He needs to apologize to you before he goes; and put these feelings that he has for you to bed. There can't be a future with you. Not when Jack wears your tattoo.

******

The bath was a good idea, and you bundle up in clean pajamas after crying your damn eyes out and throw on an extra sweatshirt for comfort. You toss a bowl of leftover chili into the microwave and hunt down the bag of tortilla chips to eat it with, figuring you’ll turn on a movie and try to forget that the rest of the world exists.

Tequila decides that it would better to walk over to your place rather than pull up in your driveway. Walking along the way until he is standing on your porch and sighing softly. Hesitating for a moment before he reaches out and knocks on your door. Anticipating that you won't even answer.

“Fucking hell…” Muttering under your breath all the way to the front door, you check the peak hole before opening it and end up groaning. “What do you want, Tex?” He’s the actual last person you want to see right now, but if he’s got an explanation you want to hear it.

“I—” Tex shifts on his heels and reaches up to rub the back of neck in embarrassment. “I owe you an apology.”

Yes. He certainly goddamn does. You pull open the door halfway and look up at him expectantly. “How about an explanation, while you’re at it.”

"That's where you're gonna be mad at me." He bites his lips and shrugs. "It's not— I can't tell you who but I can tell you that I've seen that mark on someone I know. And I—I didn't know when I went after you."

“Unless it’s one of your brothers or something, I can’t see what the big deal is.” Having decided, over the course of the last few hours, that he’s probably lying to try to get out of a relationship, you just shrug your shoulders. “Fine. It is what it is.”

"Believe me...I wish I could tell you." He sighs. "I— I came to apologize because I'm being punished." He grunts. "Being sent overseas on an assignment."

“What did you do to get punished for?” That intrigues you enough to step back, leaving the front door open for him to come inside. He’s rowdy, sure, but you can’t see him being brash enough to put his job in the line. He loves his job.

"I punched someone." Tequila grumbles quietly, his brow furrowing, and he won't admit that his hand is aching. Jack Daniels has a fucking jaw of steel. "In front of Champ."

“And he’s banishing you to another country for it?” First of all, it’s news to you that Statesman even operates in other countries. But who the hell could garner that kind of punishment for something that— It’s like the entire world stops spinning for a second, screeching to a halt as you stand in your foyer next to one frustrating cowboy realizing the entire conversation just turns back around to a second one who is even more frustrating. Your eyes snap up to Tex’s, wide and full of so much shock that it’s nearly embarrassing. Because the second you put the pieces together, it couldn’t have been clearer. “Jack…” His name is barely better than a murmur, but it’s firm. “It’s Jack. Isn’t it?”

Of course you would figure it out. Not only are you funny, beautiful, and talented in many, many ways; you are also smart. Probably a hell of a lot smarter than he is. Your eyes betray your feelings, the stunned anguish in them, and the hurt that you are feeling shining out at him. It makes him want to pull you into his arms and comfort you. But it isn't his place to do that, and he's already hurt himself by getting involved with you. It would just make it harder to let go of you. "I can't tell you who." He shakes his head and sighs. "Just please, please believe me. I never wanted to hurt you."

You never wanted to think he was lying, but now that you know who it is that’s wearing your mark, you can see why he backed off immediately. That’s his mentor. One of his closest friends. And while Jack running off might have been a shitty thing to do, that now makes a lot more sense, too. “Maybe when you come back, we can try hanging out again?” It’s a weird situation for anyone to be in, but you do enjoy his company. “Just as friends?”

Tequila swallows, knowing that it might be hard for him for a while but he nods, giving you a small smile. "I'd like that darlin'." He admits softly. "I-I wish it could be more, but I know you woulda gotten tired of my ass." He jokes, not wanting to make it awkward, but he does want you to know that he had been serious with his intentions. "I'm sorry for ruinin' the brunch."

“I told everybody you were too hungover,” you smirk, already knowing that that is the ultimate blow to his manhood as a Statesman employee. But you were plenty mad this morning and didn’t care.

"Shit." Tequila hisses, shaking his head as he absorbs that blow. "I deserve that, but damn, you pack a low blow."

“Not sorry.” And you won’t pretend to be, either. You meant it when you told him you don’t play games. “But…it does suck that you’ll be gone for a while. Try not to fuck up too much shit wherever you’re going, okay?”

"I'll be alright, darlin'." He boasts confidently. "They should be worried about me."

“I’ll be sure to call and warn them, then.” You laugh softly, shaking your head, and one hand unconsciously rests on your front door.

He's smart enough to take the hint, nodding politely at you and takes a step back. "Well, I'm gotta go pack and I'm sure you're wantin' your peace back, so...I'll see you, darlin'." He offers, tipping his hat to you at the edge of the stairs.

There’s no use telling him that you had fun before this morning. If he actually liked you it will just be cruel and if he didn’t it just makes you sound clingy, so you say good night and shut the door, sighing to yourself as you pace back to the kitchen. That bowl of chili is already getting cold after being heated up, and you’re going to need several drinks to digest the information you’ve just been handed.

Jack.

Jack is your soulmate. Your second soulmate, which is supposed to be impossible. Why? How? Who the fuck even has answers to something like that?

******

Jack moves slower than molasses as he starts to clean up the mess he had made with his temper. The mess he had made of your life was going to take a little time and finesse. He doesn't know what to say. The anger and jealousy swirling in his gut at learning that you had slept with Tequila had surprised him, but he can't fault you when he had practically thrust the boy into your arms. Taking an hour to make his office spotless again, Jack leaves the Statesman offices to start walking back to the cabins to talk to you.

After dinner you stack up the dishwasher and grab one of the key lime tartlets from the test batch you made on Friday, curling up under your blanket on the couch with the second half of your movie and a second glass of spiked lemonade. Relaxation won’t come no matter how hard you try, though, and as if encouraged by your own restlessness - the doorbell rings again.

“Coming.” You call out, grumbling to yourself as you get up, only to deflate when you open the door. “Jack…” You hadn’t expected this, honestly. You thought it was Tex again for some unknown reason or other. “H—hi.”

"Hey, sugar." It's a chicken shit move, to pretend like nothing happened, but the way his eyes light up when he sees you isn't something he can control. "How are you doing?"

“Um…well, honestly I’ve been better.” Shifting in your doorway, you step to the side to let him in and clear your throat before cautiously pointing to the bruise blooming on his jaw. “But I think you have it worse at the moment.”

Jack snorts and shakes his head. "Nah, barely felt this." He lies, his jaw aching and he swears that Tequila loosened a few teeth. He shoots you a grin that is less confident than it appears and scrubs his hands up and down his thighs. "Can I come in, talk?" He doesn't blame you if you say no, but he wants to at least try.

“That’s…probably a good idea.” While you doubt that Tex went back and told him that you might have figured things out, you want to hear it from Jack. Either confirmed or denied, whatever the truth is. This man owes you the truth and an apology and that is the very least of it.

Jack steps into the cabin and lets you close the door behind him. Nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, he turns towards you to see where you want to do this. He's in your territory and is willing to follow your lead.

"Do you want a drink?" It's a compulsory thing, always feeling like you should at least offer a drink to someone who's going to stay more than five minutes.

"I don't think you want to give me a drink, sugar. But I appreciate it." He would actually love a stiff drink, but he's not going to impose on you more than he has to.

"If you came to apologize, you get a drink." The nervous way he shifts has you worried, but you smile despite your churning stomach. "If not? I guess...just say what you came to say? I don't know, Jack. This whole thing is very awkward and I'm trying to figure out how to make it less so."

"Then I guess you better pour us a double, sugar." Jack mumbles, not quite meeting your eyes. The eyes that have haunted him for the entire week that he's stayed away from you.

"Come on in." Nodding to the living room, you disappear back to the kitchen for a second to grab a glass and the open bottle from your counter. He idles by the armchair beside your couch so you put the bottle down on the coffee table after you've poured him a drink, and hand him the glass. Your own drink is sufficiently spiked, you hope, for whatever he has to say. At least Tex already accidentally dropped the biggest bomb that might come up in conversation.

"I— hell." Jack takes a nervous gulp of his whiskey and sighs. "I owe you a large apology, sugar." He starts out. "I've acted like a tee-total ass and I regret that. I've hurt you; I know I have and I never meant to."

"Well...thank you." It being the second time tonight that you've heard something like that, you have to admit that the hole in your heart made by Jack's cruelty was much larger. Maybe that's something you ought to be ashamed of, but it's just how you feel. "I feel like there's more, though?" Even if you didn't know there was, the way he shifts his eyes all around the room to everywhere but you would have been a giveaway.

Damn you’re intuitive. Or Tequila ran his big fucking mouth. Both of those could be true. He sighs and taps his fingers against his knee and contemplates what to tell you. "Yeah." He admits quietly. almost inaudible.

"Do you...maybe want to start with why you ghosted me after we kissed?" After grappling with that one for an entire week on your own, you'd like an actual answer. A real, honest, from him answer.

"You scare me." The words fall from his tongue easier than he imagined them. Tumbling out quickly and earnestly. Truthfully. He rocks his jaw and nods. "You scare me, sugar."

That makes you huff, shifting in place on the sofa nervously. "Can't quite see the logic in that," you admit, tapping your fingers on the glass in your hands and smearing the condensation in ugly patterns. "Since you kicked the asses of a half dozen bikers the day we met and I couldn't even do that in my wildest dreams."

"Not that kinda scared, sugar." Jack chuckles at your logic, unable to find the fault with it and is a little pleased with himself for that fight still. "I'm meanin' that it's— it's complicated." He settles for that. "I didn't mean to hurt you because of it though."

"Jack..." The sigh that escapes you is nearly a groan. Or at least something bordering frustrated. "I don't think it's a secret that I like you, okay? I wouldn't have kissed you back if I didn't. I just...even if this - whatever this was - ends here? I just need you to be honest with me. Whatever the truth is, whether it's hard or easy or complicated or simple. I just...I need you to show me that much respect."

"Okay." Jack agrees to that easily enough, nodding his head and waiting for you to continue.

"For the record." The shifting seems to be endless, and you close your eyes for a second against the nerves. "Tex didn't say anything. He kept his mouth shut and protected you. I put two and two together myself." Glancing up at him, you have to remind yourself to breathe. "Will you show me your arm? Please?"

Jack's mouth is suddenly drier than the Sahara desert. Closing his eyes for a moment before he nods and stands up. He will have to roll up his sleeves or take the damn thing off. He shrugs out of his jacket and unbuttons his sleeve. "You are smart, sugar. Don't doubt that."

"I never do." It might be the wrong time to be sassy, but the response is automatic. Your mouth is dry as dirt by the time Jack rolls up the sleeve of his plaid shirt, and it's only partially because watching a man roll up his sleeve is like having a woman put on a push up bra as far as sex appeal goes. The first glimpse of your own tattoo on his skin steals any breath you had left in your body, and you swear you're lightheaded at the actual sight of it. Your mark on someone else's body. It's enough to make you break right down and cry, but you have a feeling that wouldn't exactly help the situation.

The cat is out of the bag, and Jack shows you the marks that are on his skin briefly before he starts to roll his sleeve down again. "Now you know why you scare me." He is leaving a hell of a lot out, but it's a truth you might be able to swallow.

"It's supposed to be impossible." Even with evidence, you have to keep yourself from reaching out and touching his skin just to prove to yourself that it's not make up or Sharpie or something.

"It is impossible." Jack tells you, shaking his head at the entire situation and reaches for his drink.

"Obviously not." It definitely does explain some things. Like the way the two of you can't seem to stay away from each other even when he was obviously not wanting to be around you.

"It damn sure is when I killed your original soulmate." Jack snaps out without even thinking about how those words would land.

"You what?" The glass in your hand goes crashing to the floor, cracking and spilling bourbon and lemonade in every direction but you can't do anything but stare at him: wide eyed and terrified and more confused than you've ever felt in your life. "Wh-wha—you—?" The tears pricking at your eyes are a surprise, but only because you never considered that this would ever be a sentence you would hear in your life.

"Fuck." Jack hisses, realizing he's stuck his ass all the way in the fire and the only way he's going to get out is to tell you everything. "Sugar, I— Statesman— is an independence intelligence agency. I am an agent. The last op I was on, he - your soulmate - was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Innocent bystander." He tells you bitterly. "I killed a civilian by accident."

The blatancy of it nearly knocks you over, to the point where the tears spill over unfiltered. "Fuck off, Jack." You hear your own voice, full of anger for the second time today. "I asked you to be honest with me."

"I am being honest with you!" Jack growls, pissed off that you don't believe him. "How do you think I took on a half dozen men without a scratch? Do you need to have it confirmed?"

"Sure. Confirm it for me. Why the fuck not." You might as well be rolling your eyes at him, and maybe it's childish, but you're sick of being disappointed. Especially so many times in one week.

"Ginger." Jack speaks up, knowing that saying her name will activate his communication link in his watch. "Lock down my soulmate's cabin." He orders. "Code Orange."

There is a brief pause and Astrid's voice comes through the built-in speakers in your cabin. "Roger Jack, Code Orange." Immediately, the soft lights of the lamps switch off and bright emergency lights flicker on. The door lock flips and there is a mechanical whirling as solid metal shutters roll down over your windows and door. The bookcase that you have stuffed with cookbooks in the little breakfast nook pops open, showing an opening behind it that will lead to a safe room.

"What the fuck?" Jumping backward further into the sofa, you curl in on yourself as the lights beat down on you and the windows cover with steel. The bookcase in the corner makes you flinch again, and you look around like you're trying to figure out where the cameras are that are filming this prank. "W-was that...Astrid?"

"Astrid's codename at work is Ginger Ale." Jack tells you. "Just like my codename is Whiskey. Agent Whiskey. It's also the reason why I have no tattoos or scars on my body. No identifying marks."

"Because you're..." Searching for the word, you can't even find a real-world scenario in which you've ever said it before without referring to fiction or a game. "A—a spy?"

"I guess that's the easiest way to look at it." Jack nods.

"What's...that?" The door behind your bookcase is a special kind of scary. That shit only happens in movies or when it's a bomb shelter.

"It's a safe room." Jack provides. "A place where you can go in the case of an emergency. So you are safe from harm. Nothing short of a nuke would get you in there."

Stock still with equal parts shock and the need to process all the information you've been given in the last three minutes, you gulp inelegantly and wipe one hand down your face. "So..." It's a whole lot all at once and you stare forward when you open your eyes again. "You...after..." Deep breath. "How?" You ask finally, not really knowing how to ask about someone's murder.

"Your real soulmate was a chef." Jack tells you quietly. "He was on the loading dock of the Whitney smoking a cigarette." He knows you will recognize the hotel as the one you had just left. Another reason why he couldn't go to that damn wedding reception since he had just had a shootout there. "I saw a gun and I just...reacted." He admits quietly, staring down at his hands because he can't look up and face the blame he knows he will see in your eyes. "There were two men on that dock, one innocent and one trying to kill me. And I took them both out."

"So you just...got it? Just like that?" It doesn't make sense, but it's not like anyone really knows how soulmates get chosen in the first place. "Y-you shot him and got me as a prize?"

"I'm guessin'." That part has him stumped so he just gives a small shrug. "Lucky you."

"Shit..." Neither one of you can look at each other, but the flood lights and steel shutters are sure to attract attention, and you clear your throat softly. "Can you...um...make it go back to normal?"

"Oh shit, uh yeah." Jack shakes his head and speaks again. "Ginger, Code Green. Repeat, Code Green. All clear." He knows that she knows that there wasn't an emergency, but it was still protocol to use the codes.

"Thanks." The weight of reality feels exhaustively heavy on your shoulders, but you press your thumbs into your eyes and sigh. "So..." It's getting to be too much to process but the conversation just isn't anywhere near over. "So, what does this mean?"

“I don’t understand.” Jack admits, not sure if he’s getting what you are asking. “What does what mean?”

"Well, we're—we're soulmates." Whether either of you likes it, or the circumstances, is beyond the point. It is what it is and all you can do is deal with it.

“You don’t want to be my soulmate, sugar.” Jack promises you. “My soulmate has been dead and gone for a long time.” The guilt of her death weighs heavily on him.

"I'm not trying to replace her." The thought actually appalls you, knowing that plenty of other people might try to do just that. "She was your wife, I just—" When you finally muster enough courage to look at him, he won't meet your eyes. It's all at once that any hope you might have had shatters, and you remind yourself that he killed the man you were supposed to love with all your heart. "I just want to know if you're gonna keep ignoring my existence or not."

“You’re here, aren’t you, sugar?” Jack answers glibly. “If I was going to ignore your existence that wouldn’t be the case.” He doesn’t mention that Champ was the one who found you and brought you here. “You’ll be safe.”

"Safe isn't the same as—" You shake your head before that word can come out of your mouth. "Okay. I'm safe. And you won't ignore me. Fine." The wave of bitter disappointment that rips through you is angry and you hate it, but it's overwhelming. "So why exactly did you scare Tex off if your top thought is safe?"

“I didn’t scare Tex off.” He is immediately pissy at the idea that you would want that boy. “He came in yelling about marks and punching me in the jaw when I damn sure showed him the new fucking marks on my body.”

"Yeah, you showed him, but you didn't tell him who I am." That might be what stings the most. That he didn't acknowledge you in any way whatsoever until he was forced to. "He nearly had a panic attack in the shower this morning and I got to cry my eyes out for the second time this week."

The pain of knowing he made you cry is like a swift, sharp knife to the chest. “What was I supposed to tell ‘im?” Jack demands. “The girl who will hate my guts when she learns the truth is my soulmate? Or better yet, the universe decided that despite me being unable to protect my real soulmate it’s given me the soulmate of the man I killed as a laugh.”

"Right, but I'm safe here?" Just because you have no idea what he's talking about doesn't mean you're not still upset, and you can fire back just as nastily as he can. It makes you feel like you're being torn apart at the edges, so why not just lash out? Surely that will help.

"Yeah, you are." Jack huffs, not sure exactly what you expect from him. "You've got a job you said you always dreamed of, a house to call your own, and all the security that Statesman can provide you." He holds his arms up and then drops them down onto his hips and stares at you. "What else do you want?"

“Someone to spend my life with.” It’s what you’ve always wanted. More than anything. And getting every other dream in the world without someone to love who loves you with equal ferocity just feels like a slap in the face. You have a career and security, but not love. And that makes the other two things just seem lonely.

"I like you, sugar." Jack admits quietly. "I really do. But that ain't me." He doesn't say anything more than that, knowing it's not necessary. His life ended the day it began ironically enough, he's just been a dead man walking ever since.

“I’m starting to get that.” He’s clear and honest about it, you have to at least give him that. But it still feels like he picked up that broken glass from the rug and sliced your chest straight open to get at your heart. Like the universe replaced your real soulmate with a security guard, not a partner. And you still don’t even know why the fuck you need a security guard.

“I’m sorry.” Jack tells you, hating the way the light has just vanished from your eyes and he wants to rush across the room and pull you into his arms. But he doesn’t move. “I wish it could be different, but…” he shakes his head again and stares at his belt buckle. “We don’t always get what we want.”

“Clearly.” The word is choked and bitter, you know it is, because what you want is sitting right in front of you telling you that you can’t have him. This could be easy. Or at least less complicated. It could be so many things that aren’t this. Instead, Jack is sitting there telling you that you’ll never have the most basic and cherished thing in the world. Love. “I’ll just…try not to get in your way, I guess.”

“I’d like us to be friends, sugar.” Jack shuffles slightly and manages to look up at you. “But I understand if you can’t.” You don’t answer him and the ache in his chest gets heavier, prompting him to move towards the door. “I’ll let you be. I’m really sorry.” He whispers. “For everything.”

“I’m sure I’ll see you around.” It’s a dismissal. Maybe even a cruel one. But right now you’re feeling so defeated that you don’t even care. You just want to be alone - a state you’re apparently going to have to get used to.

Out on the porch, Jack wonders why you taking his refusal so easily stings. Wondering if he wanted you to fight, even though it would do nothing but hurt you. He knocks on the front porch pillar as he starts down the stairs slowly to walk to his own house. “See you around, sugar.”

The floodgates open as soon as the door shuts behind him, giving you the freedom and the privacy to weep as openly and as long as you need. As horrifying and complicated as everything is turning out to be, you would have been so glad to love Jack. To get to know him and grow with him and find out what smooths those sharp edges. You would have loved to love him. To have that privilege would have been extraordinary.

But you’ve been dumped before you ever knew what you had. So who knows what will happen next?

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My Masterlist!

[augustjustice]

WIP Weekend

The Rules:

In a reblog (or a new post w/ rules attached) post up to five (5) file names of your wips. Not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

The WIPS:

S4 Missing Scene fic

Pre S4 Steddie as the party’s divorced dads

Steddie Bodyswap

Crush Confessions Ch. 2

Untitled Marmalade fic

Snippet and Taglist under the cut:

The second they were alone, Otis cornered him, backing him up against the wall. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” 

The Bandit raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow as he gazed up at him, dusty pink lips curving up into a knowing smirk. 

“I was thinking I ought to ask you the exact same thing…” he dropped his voice into a breathy whisper, the kind that could send shivers up a man’s spine, “secret agent.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t know I’d be here,” Otis tossed back with a shake of his head. His posture stayed perfectly rigid, bound and determined as he was not to let on that he was affected in the slightest. “I know you better than that.”

The Babydoll’s eyelashes fluttered, coquettish. “Better than most anybody, really.”

No pressure tagging @formosusiniquis @eriquin @starryeyedjanai @bifuriouswaterbender and anyone else who would like to join!