#he had light years to throw a quick left hook and get the job done but he has to fuck around

[suchasurfriend]

gord's gay ass in the background while im being body slammed into the ground

[hobidreams]

june 1869.

you’ve never been able to hide from him.

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: smut, angst, fluff? words: 2.3k contains: choices, consequences.

moonlit throne index. this is drabble 21. start from the beginning?

The moment you reach your private chambers, you collapse against the door. Your heart softly shudders with strain as you finally let the first tears fall, trickling steadily down your cheeks. The bundles you carried in fall to the floor as you cover your face with your cold hands, trying to stifle the quiet sobs that seem so determined to come.

You had gone into town after your work today. Walked down, escorted by a guard that you pretended wasn’t there. (The king now insisted upon such a thing whenever you left the palace walls, but you could tell the guard thought the job much beneath him.) You had just finished picking up a few ingredients from the market traders and was on your way to see if the bookstore had received new products when your attention had been caught by the sizeable crowd gathered outside the town clinic.

“Please, please, give me medicine for my daughter!” The peasant woman clutched a child that couldn’t have been more than two years old. The babe’s crying was as raucous as the yelling, the noisy mix of voices all clamoring with want.

“I need to see someone! My side— It hurts every day. I can’t work anymore. My family’s going to starve. I need treatment!”

The physician’s assistant stood on the clinic steps with folded arms and a bitter, hard look on his face. “Are we running a charity? We need to eat too! If you can’t pay, you can’t see the doctor!” He slammed the door in their faces, leaving them out in the sweltering heat, crying out that they could pay next week or as soon as they could, they just needed help right now, but the door remained shut.

Your chest felt stiflingly tight at the sight, compassion’s hand squeezing hard around your heart because you knew you could help. You had to help. You took a step forward, ready to offer your services only to have the guard block your way.

“Su-uinyeo-nim. We must return to the palace.”

“No, I want to stay.”

He shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. They could harm you.” And if they did, then his own head would likely be on the chopping block. Ridiculous.

“They won’t. They just need treatment, and I’m a physician.” You didn’t have many of your tools here but you could at least take a look, provide a diagnosis or recommend some easily obtainable herbs.

“The king would not approve of putting yourself in danger.”

You opened your mouth only to shut it. The king wouldn’t approve of a lot of things, but how could you just stand here and do nothing? These people, they needed your skills.

You took another step forward.

“Su-uinyeo-nim.” The guard’s voice was firm. He indicated for you to start walking away, towards home.

You shot him a stare, the hardest look you could conjure, but didn’t move. Not yet, damn it.

“Oh—uinyeo-nim!”

You dallied long enough. One of the women had evidently recognized your outfit and was now barreling towards you with a fire in her eyes. “Uinyeo-nim, you can help me, right!? It’s my daughter, she’s been having a fever and—”

“No, she cannot.” The guard’s glare was as sharp as the blade that the hand on his sword promised.

“Oh, please!” She threw herself against the arm the guard tried to reign her in with. Threw herself forward trying to reach you. “My daughter, my daughter will die if she’s not treated!”

“Let me—” You started, only for the guard to shove her harshly back since he could not do the same to you. She cried out, almost toppling over from the force as she clutched her baby, but he did not relent.

“We are leaving.”

He began to boldly walk towards you, practically into you, leaving you no choice in the matter. You were too afraid he might hurt her further if you did not comply even though every step away felt like a blow to your chest, like tiny fists pounding against your ribcage, making you sore and ache because the stark truth was that your inability to help her wasn’t even entirely the guard’s fault.

All those years ago, you chose to stay.

You never opened the affordable clinic mother had dreamed of. You put your feelings before the wellbeing of all those people you could have helped then, and you did it again today. Selfish. Selfish and helpless and selfish. For all the work you’ve done, it never feels like enough. There are always more patients in need and here you are, living among this extravagance and opulence but really getting nowhere. Not with the king. Not with how much change you can bring to the people.

Even your tears can only be shed here, in privacy and cowardice.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you whisper through your blurry vision, but these are just words. They do nothing in the end and every choice feels like the wrong one and that there will only be dire consequences to follow them.

“Su-uinyeo-nim?”

At Eunuch Kim’s muted voice, you startle. Hurriedly, you wipe the backs of your hands against your eyes. “Y-Yes?”

“The king has requested your company tonight.”

“Oh.” Shit. You’re in no state to face him, not for what he has in mind, but you must go. “I-I’ll be ready in a few minutes. Just allow me to… change.” You push to your feet, onto shaky legs as you sniff.

“Of course.”

The brief walk over in the cool summer evening helps to pull some of the sorrow from your mind (or at least tucks it away to be revisited later when you find yourself as always, alone). Eunuch Kim is kind enough not to probe into the heaviness about you today; he simply chats about the latest novel he has picked up in town, a study of birds that he recommends heartily to you. The king is not so kind. The second you enter his chambers, tilt your head just enough for him to catch your eye, he frowns.

“You’ve been crying.”

It’s not a question.

“I, um, simply had some dust in my eyes, jeonha.”

Searching for a distraction, you begin to undo the tie of your blouse. You’ve never purposefully let him see you openly upset, or at least not since this ‘arrangement’ began.

“Dust. Really.”

You nod, unwilling to meet his stare.

The floorboard creaks as he steps towards you. Covers your hands with his own so he can strip you instead. You can’t tell if he believes you; he is so quiet while he pulls layer after layer from you, letting the fabric drop to the floor in bunches of crumpled white and light blue. The warmth of his fingers on your skin feels like comfort, even when it’s only a prelude to his desire.

Isn’t it stupid, that some excessive part of you wants him to openly refute your lies even as you tell them? To undress your mind as hungrily he does your body until you have no choice but to be bared and free, released from the burden of your own thoughts?

“Get on the bed.”

Maybe it’s better like this. You are the only woman he has ever known in this way; you can’t let yourself be so greedy, to again let that selfish part of you want and want and want so much that appetite consumes you, bones and all. You press your palms and knees to the hard bedding. Squeeze your eyes together. Force the tears to stay back while you wait for the burn to come.

His calloused hands land on your waist, but it’s to urge you to turn over instead.

“J-Jeonha?” you question, confused when you see him already on his knees, that piercing gaze provoking goosebumps from your skin. “Why…”

His hands find your ass, urging you towards the edge of the bed. He throws the top layer of his robes aside before he spreads your legs apart, letting them rest against the wood.

What… What is he doing? You find your answer as the sokgot strips fall to the floor beneath his touch and abruptly, before your poor heart has time to prepare itself, his breath blows warm across your clit.

“Ah, this—!” Wild-eyed, you try to squirm back, hot with embarrassment that his face is this close to your crotch. It floods you with worry after worry about your scent, the possible bumps marring your skin, the tufts of hair, but he doesn’t seem to care about any of it as he hooks his hands beneath your thighs. “You’re not—”

Soft lips and a slick tongue are pressed flush against you.

Your entire body seems to quiver at the first lick; a single taste of wetness followed by a second, a third, a relentless fourth that makes liquid pleasure crest, surging upwards, a high, rushing tide in mere seconds. You buck, hands finding no support upon the sheets and part of you wants to cover your face instead, to let die the moans that surface with each gasp but that means you would miss the sight. This unforgettable sight: inky eyes between your thighs, the quick, pink tip of his tongue swiping heat directly into your veins. It feels messy before he finds his rhythm, settles into a beat that only reaffirms how he is irrefutably dominant even while he is on his knees before you, for once not breaking you apart but making you feel so dizzyingly whole you could burst.

While his fingers have learned almost every inch of you, this remains a scenario you never even thought to entertain, never even thought he would want. His pleasing only you. His putting you at the forefront of even his own satisfaction. Stop. The grip on your thigh tightens; you never want him to let go. Stop giving me hope. He does anyway with a drawn out suck, his stare as hazy and heady as if he’s been drinking the most exquisite cheongju.

Your body is taut, sweat beading down your spine. “This is— I can’t—”

“You can,” he quips back, and whatever words you could have said are stolen by orgasm. Taken, and made unbecoming moans that blow past the last shreds of your resistance now resting between his teeth.

It overwhelms you, this newfound sensitivity from being consumed; it makes you want to shirk back but he doesn’t let you. Somehow one of your legs finds its way over his shoulder and he uses that momentum to keep you against his stunning mouth, giving you what you need but never what you want. Each lick nudges you further off the edge, finding an acute bliss past every limitation you thought you had and you think, feverishly you think — it’s like he’s giving you permission to fall apart.

Tears coalesce at the corner of your eyes but you don’t notice. You don’t even know they’re there until wetness trails down your cheeks and even then you’re distracted by another peak, this one a muted swell that makes your muscles tense around his thin frame; he supports your weight without a word of complaint as his strokes finally dwindle in time with your pulses until both drop off entirely.

As he lets your leg roll off his arm, his breaths come almost as unsteadily as yours. Slowly, he retracts his wide hands from your thighs. Rolling his tongue against the inside of his own cheek, you watch him paint your taste in his mouth and don’t know what to make of any of it.

It’s only when a few tears cling to your eyelashes and blur your vision that you realize what’s happening. How embarrassing. You told yourself you wouldn’t do this on the way here and look at you now. You’re about to reach up to wipe away the tears, the damning evidence of your weakness when the king wraps his hands tight around your wrists. Pushes you back. Presses his knees to the bed as he hovers above you, all silence and heat and him.

“Um, j-jeon—”

He leans down and cuts you off with a kiss.

You gasp into his mouth but he doesn’t pull away. He is just soft, persistent, firm, and soft as he moves naturally across territory that should have been unfamiliar, but instead it feels like he’s been mapping, planning this capture for as long as you have. An impossible dream, yes, but the warm breath ghosting across your skin, lingering, is real. You open for him. For your first kiss. Your first kiss with him.

The warm fingers at your wrist squeeze harder.

“You… You can cry.” His voice is a murmur, delicate and hesitant against your lips, as if imparting a secret. “If you want.”

So you do.

You finally let yourself cry while he kisses you again and again, adjusting his angle to push you further into the pillows, releasing a wrist to cup your wet cheek. He kisses you with his nose pressed to yours, a tiny, precious moan finding freedom from someone’s throat.

Yoongi, your mind recalls, clinging to the syllables that belong to a word you’ve never dared to say aloud as he kisses you, kisses you, kisses you until both your mouths are swollen and your chest feels a bit lighter, his a bit heavier in exchange.

And when he finally pulls away, he holds you. His arms accept all your gravity for just a few lingering minutes more, a few heartbeats more, until it’s time for you to go.

[duuhrayliegh]

Hello, darling! I was wondering if you could right some Bucky x reader, where the reader worked along Sharon during Civil War and she meets Bucky. Then she runs always with Sharon and meets Bucky again in Madripoor and continue their story. I hope that makes sense. Thank yooouuuu✨✨✨

hey babes!! yes i absolutely can! i kind of gave more background than i meant to making it way longer, but i hope you enjoy it anyway! i do want to continue this story and most definitely will be so be on the lookout for the other parts of it lovie <3. i hope you still enjoy it even though it isn’t quite what you asked for yet :)

A Friend of Yours

FATWS SPOILERS

warnings: not much, canon lvl violence, some suggestive stuff closer towards to end, language, i think that’s it

word count: 6140 i went a bit overboard, it’s fine i’m totally fine

a/n: i got this request and then didn’t stop writing all day. i didn’t get anything else done all day. i got home at like seven-ish? and i’ve been sitting on the floor of my bedroom just writing this fic (for context it is now 12:47 pm where i’m at)

check out A Friend of Yours - pt. 2 and A Friend of Yours - pt. 3

p.s.: this is the first fic that i’m writing with an actual ‘x reader’ i’m so proud

xoxo ray

ray’s m.list

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

You grew up with Sharon, the two of you were best friends from birth it seemed. Honestly, Peggy raised you more than your own parents did. When Aunt Peggy got Sharon her first thigh holster, she got you one too. You enlisted together, moved up the ranks together, everything. So, it was of no shock to anyone that after the fall of SHIELD, you both moved together into the CIA’s Joint Terrorism Task Force.

You were inside the hotel with Sharon, Steve and Sam when the bombing on the UN took place. The look of unbridled fear that fell over Steve’s face as they announced Barnes as the primary suspect was heart wrenching. You weren’t able to watch it for long because your phone was already ringing off the hook.

“Look, you need to get me more information, and now.” You gritted into your phone speaker before quickly hanging up the phone and turning to a crestfallen Steve who was still watching the news casting. Sharon ended her phone call and turned to you.

“We have to go to work.” A few short hours on a jet later, you and Sharon were coordinating the operation. Close by, Steve and Sam were awaiting new information. Steve had this insane plan to find Barnes before the whole rest of the world did. Like that’s going to happen, it took the world 70 years to find Barnes. Of course, Steve and Sam are going to find him in about half that time.

You followed the blonde woman into a busy coffee shop and up to the counter. She slid a manila folder over to a well disguised Captain America. “Tips have been pouring in since that footage went public. Everyone thinks the Winter Soldier goes to their gym. Most of it’s just noise, except this.” Sharon was talking quietly, trying to not draw attention to the fact that she was committing a serious offense.

“We have to give the briefing, like now Shar, so we have to go.” The two of you pushed off the counter and you turned quickly to say one last thing. “And you better hurry. They’ve given the order to shoot on site.”

You left the shop quickly and made your way back to the white tent, passing the redheaded spy who was watching you like a hawk. A look of understanding crossed her features as you kept a calm facade. She fucking knows, how the hell could she read you that easily?

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

The next time you saw any of them, they were exiting the back of an armored prison van. It was no surprise that his eyes flitted over to his best friend from childhood. You glanced over at Barnes, who was strapped in all different ways, and your heart hurt for him. You tried not to pity him, you know you would’ve gotten a slap on the wrist from Aunt Peggy about it.

Bucky must’ve felt you looking at him because his steel blue eyes locked with your pair. This was the first time that you’ve ever actually seen the man in person. It was startling, in a good way. You grew up going to the Smithsonian and hearing Aunt Peggy’s stories about the great James Buchanan Barnes. You never thought that you’d get the chance to meet the man you did a history report on your freshman year of high school.

“Y/N?” Sharon’s voice cut through your thoughts, recalling you to reality and out of your past. “We have to go. We’ve been assigned to monitor Steve and Sam while they’re here.” Sharon was clearly not a fan of this, which made you laugh loudly.

“Oh, score! We get to babysit Captain America and the Falcon!” You spoke in an unnecessarily upbeat voice and then clapped your hands together. “Our dream job! Let’s go, Shar!” She stared at you for a millisecond before slapping a hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s go, you fucking dork.” You followed her through the office building into the control room where you observed Tony talking to Steve. Apparently, the conversation was not going well because both their faces held angry glares. Eventually, Tony left the room, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts and that can never be good.

“How you doing, Cap?” You asked as you less-than-gracefully plopped yourself into the chair across from him. He looked over at me and released a heavy sigh.

“Honestly, Y/N, not that great at the moment.” He looked at you with his iconic mom Steve stare. Wow, so that’s what it’s like to be on the receiving end of that. Sam walked in and sat next to you. You drowned out their conversation as your gaze focused on screens outside of the glass office.

The video feed of Barnes in his metal cage was displayed on a TV screen. How is this considered humane? Obviously you knew that the CIA had pushed boundaries in the past, but this was just insane. “Are those restraints really necessary?” Sam seemed to be just voicing his thoughts, not expecting a response back.

“Well, he is considered an international terrorist, so yeah, they’re kind of necessary.” You said quickly and then muttered under your breath, “No matter who thinks that it’s excessive.” Steve’s gaze met yours and he was about to speak when Sharon walked in and dropped a paper in front of Sam.

“The receipt for your gear.” A scoff sounded from Sam as he glared at Sharon.

“‘Bird costume’? Come on.” Always quick to defend your best friend.

“Hey, we didn’t write it up.” It came off snappier than you had meant it. Sharon shot you a look, signaling you to back off. You raised a brow at her as she leaned over the table to the intercom buttons.

The audio from Barnes’ evaluation echoed through the glass room. Everyone around you was unsuspecting the four of you listened in. The psychologist was talking to Barnes, who seemed incredibly closed off. Who could blame the guy though?

“I’m not here to judge you. I just want to ask a few questions. Do you know where you are, James?” The psychologist paused for a second, looking down and off to the side. “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, James.” The caged man spoke for the first time.

“My name is Bucky.” His voice was rough from not being used. A look crossed Steve’s face and he turned to Sharon.

“Why would the Task Force release that photo to begin with?” Sharon’s body turned to face the man speaking to her. Her brows furrowed while she answered.

“Get the word out, involve as many eyes as we can?” Your head tilted, trying to follow Steve’s train of thought.

“Right. Good way to flush a guy out of hiding. Set off a bomb, get your picture taken. Get seven billion people looking for the Winter Soldier.” Oh shit.

“You’re saying someone framed him?” You wanted to believe it with every fiber in your being.

“Steve, we looked for the guy for two years and found nothing.” Sam reminded in a calm tone.

“Yeah, you didn’t bomb the UN though. That turns quite a few heads. Especially if prominent people like King T’Chaka end up dead because of it.” You made a good point, but there were still pieces missing.

“That doesn’t guarantee that they would find him. It guaranteed that we would.” Sharon and Steve began examining the room around them. Your attention returned to the audio emitting from the intercom.

“You fear that,“ the doctor paused, “if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. Don’t worry.” He glanced down again and moved his hand to swipe something away.

“Guys?” You pointed to the screen as the doctor held up his pointer finger.

“We only have to talk about one.” All of the sudden, the screens went dark and the lights flickered off. Secretary Ross was yelling at technicians to get his video back. Tony was speaking to his AI, Friday, about locating the source of the outage. Steve and Sam tensed at the thought of what could be going on with Barnes.

“Sub-level five, east wing.” was all Sharon said as the pair ran off. You looked at her and threw your hands in the air.

“What the hell do we do now, Shar?” She glared at you as she started reasoning with you.

“They’re stronger than we are. If they can contain whatever the hell is happening down there then great. In the event that they can’t, we’ll be up here with Natasha and Tony to deal with it.” You nodded quickly as you both ran out of the room.

You quickly followed Natasha, Tony and Sharon to the main level of the building. Clearly Steve and Sam were unsuccessful in containing the situation because Barnes could be seen through the glass, fighting his way to his destination.

Tony stunned Barnes with a previously concealed Iron Man glove. Barnes started towards Tony and quickly attacked. After Barnes bested Tony, it wasn’t long before Natasha rushed the man alongside Sharon. It wasn’t hard for Barnes to throw Sharon across the room. Natasha took the opportunity to launch herself onto his shoulders, which caused Barnes to slam her into a table with his metal hand wrapped around her neck.

She mumbled something to him as you kicked his ribs, releasing his chokehold on her. He stumbled backwards, his hard gaze landed on yours as he approached. Your eyes locked on his as the two of you traded blows.

They weren’t the same eyes as before. Those eyes were soft and remorseful, these were hard and unattached. There was no emotion behind the pair staring at you. The fraction of a second that you were analyzing his eyes in your head was enough for him to catch you off guard. His metal fist landed in your rib cage. The opposite hand jabbed at your face, busting your lip and sending you flying backwards.

You hit your head on the concrete below, making your eyes roll back. The wind left your lungs and you gasped to get it back as Barnes and T’Challa fought in the background. It was a few minutes later that a concerned Sharon made her way over to you.

“Are you okay?” You looked her over as she did you, checking for any severe injuries. You offered a small nod, not wanting to shake your head too much in fear of a concussion. “Let’s go check in with Ross.”

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

“And how the hell did Rogers and Wilson even know where to find Barnes?” Ross’ voice boomed through the office. No one said anything, not wanting to incur the wrath of Secretary Ross. “I’ve already allowed Stark 36 hours to find them and bring them back here.” Ross turned to you and Sharon standing in the corner of the room. “If they contact any of you, report it immediately.” Rounds of ‘yes, sirs’ bounced around the room, then chaos ensued as everyone got back to trying to clean up this mess.

“Carter. Y/L/N. Elevator now.” He raised two fingers to point toward the elevators before walking into one. It was just the three of you in the enclosed space. He clicked the button for the ground floor. “I know you have some kind of connection to Rogers but do not let that cloud your judgement. The both of you are CIA agents first.”

“We understand, Secretary.” The elevator doors opened again and you went to step out when Ross stopped you again.

“I mean it, girls. This is your job on the line here.” You and Sharon shared a look before continuing walking. Did he just call us girls?

“Do you think that was supposed to be intimidating?” You laughed under your breath as you went out to the parking lot. Sharon sighed and shrugged her shoulders.

“Probably.” She looked at you over the top of her car. “You don’t have to come with me.”

“Where do we start?”

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

Getting that fucking shield and bird suit wasn’t easy. They had moved it from the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre to the US Embassy to await transport back to the States. It made it easier but still damn near impossible to get. Thankfully, you and Sharon are good liars. Skills of a misspent youth.

The two of you walked in the front door and displayed your badges. “We’re here to pick up Captain America and the Falcon’s effects.” The man behind the counter didn’t even question it. Man, they need better people at the Embassy.

“You’ll have to sign some paperwork saying you picked it up.” There it is. You both flicked a brow and Sharon held her hand out for the clipboard. Small scratches from the pen in her hand were echoing throughout the empty building.

She handed the clipboard back to the man behind the counter. “Okie dokie, just pull your car around to the side of the building and we’ll get you loaded up.” He shot them a small smile and turned around to file the papers.

“That was easy enough.” You whispered to Sharon as you left, not wanting your voice to carry. You walked to your car that was parked in front of the iron wrought gate. Pulling your car around to the side of the building, you popped the trunk. The gear clad Embassy soldier carelessly tossed Sam’s suit inside before gently placing the shield on top of it.

“Hey, if there’s a scratch on that suit, it’s coming out of your paycheck buddy.” You held your pointer finger up to the man’s unimpressed face.

“Y/N, let’s go. We’ve got to get these to the jet or Ross will have our heads. Remember it’s our job on the line here.” What Sharon said made you laugh big while hauling yourself back into the driver’s seat of the car. As you pulled out into the street, Sharon was typing away on her phone and pushing it to her ear.

“This is a secure line but I don’t know for how long, so don’t talk just listen.” She took a deep breath and then continued. “We want to help. Meet us under the bridge on Route 6. We’ll be there in two hours.” She ended the call quickly and threw the phone outside the car. Glancing over at you, she nodded and sighed again.

“We’ve gotten this far.” You had one question burning in your throat that you were afraid to ask.

“Where do we go after they’ve gone?” She looked at you and she was biting her lip, something she only did when she was incredibly stressed.

“I don’t know yet. Do you have any ideas?” You smiled and thought of the one place that you wouldn’t be followed.

“Yeah, I’ve got one, but it’s rough.”

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

The drive to the underpass wasn’t a hard one. You had beat the boys there so you and Sharon were sitting in the car. You had the radio playing softly in the background.

“Who the hell do you know in Madripoor?” You laughed and shrugged.

“I’m supposed to tell you all my secrets for free?” You shook your head and shifted in your seat to face her fully. “I was tasked with tracking some artwork down there. One of my assignments when we went through initiation for the Agency.” You picked at the holes in your jeans. “I thought it was just all fake stuff, but I researched it more and more. Turns out, the underground artwork dealing is really lucrative over there.”

Sharon stared at you in amazement. “What did you do, Y/N?” You smirked.

“I haven’t done anything.” You held her gaze, “Yet.” She released a small laugh and her mouth hung open a bit. “I may have a warehouse out there.” You squinted one of your eyes, and leaned forward. “And the apartment above it.” She was going to say something when an old ass blue Beetle pulled up behind you.

“Now how the fuck did they all fit in that tiny ass car?” You both laughed as you stepped out of the car with big smiles on your faces.

“Not sure you understand the concept of a getaway car.” Steve walked up to Sharon and they began talking as she popped the trunk, revealing their gear. Your attention was on the men in the car behind them. Barnes was stuck in the back away from cameras and Sam was lounging in the passenger seat. Your eyes met Barnes’ again, they were back to the remorseful pair you saw the first time.

“You know he kind of tried to kill us.” You waved your hand in gesture to the man in the car.

“Sorry, I’ll put it on the list too.” He glanced back down at Sharon, who had migrated closer to him. “They’re going to come looking for you.”

She nodded, “I know.” Then the most awkward kiss in all of kissing history took place. Your brows shot up then furrowed quickly, a small wince overtaking your face. They pulled apart and traded more words. Sharon began walking back to the passenger side of the car.

Steve turned around and you looked back at the two men in the car. Both of them were wearing proud, smug grins. Steve threw his head back as if he was berating them.

“About damn time, Cap! She’s been pining over you for God knows how long now.” The windows were down in the Beetle so the other two heard you shouting at their friend.

“Y/N!” Sharon was a bit embarrassed.

“What? It’s the truth, Shar!” The two of you began bickering like an old married couple as you started the car again. Steve got all he needed from the trunk and shut it quickly, slapping it twice. You began driving off with Sharon giving you directions to an airport on the opposite side of the country.

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

That was the last time you saw Steve. Last time you saw anyone for a while. You had been dusted in the Blip. Sharon had followed you to your apartment in Madripoor. The two of you were able to figure the city out pretty quickly. Learning the ins and outs of the island, where to go, who to sell to. One afternoon, you and Sharon had been surveying a Van Gogh piece for your gallery when you flew away. In the middle of a fucking deal, what perfect timing.

Five years later, you were reunited with an even more successful Sharon. “I kept your room the way you left it.” She said as she led you through your shared home. “I figured that you’d be back and you’d be pissed off if I fucked with anything.”

You smiled at the woman gratefully and hugged her. Neither of you let go for a while. When you did, she started filling you in on everything. She had continued to split all her profits and had been depositing the money into your account. “Even if you didn’t come back, I could’ve used it if I needed to bug out. Win-win.” She explained with a smile.

The two of you had about six months of getting back into the groove of things. It was quickly cut off by a ping of your phones one day. A look of confusion and anger crossed her face, “Are you fucking kidding me?” She locked eyes with you and told you to get your gear.

“Where are we going?” She threw her phone at you and you looked at the screen. As soon as you read the notification at the top of it you understood. Repeating your question from before, you tied the knots on your Converse. You followed Sharon to the Low Town side of the island.

“Now what the fuck are they doing here, do you think?” The two of you camped outside of the Brass Monkey nightclub, ready for whatever came your way. Deciding that you were too visible to everyone else, you moved to the building across from the club. Something is bound to go wrong and the first place they're going to get ran to is this dead end alley.

Sure enough, not even ten minutes later, Sam, Barnes, and Zemo got cornered in the alleyway. Sharon had decided to stay on the ground floor next to the door. You shot two of the assassins following the group of three and Sharon took out the final one.

You made your way back down to Sharon, who was still holding her gun up. “You cost me everything.” She focused her gun on Zemo.

“Sharon, wait. Someone recreated the super soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” Sam remarked calmly, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Explains why you guys are here and Selby’s dead.” Your brows shot up at that, must of been new information that she got while you were upstairs.

“Why are you here, Sharon?” Sam questioned.

“She was one of the ones who stole Steve’s shield, remember?” You stepped forward, raising your gun to gesture to the men in front of you. “And the wings, so your ass,” you waved at Sam, “could save his ass,” at Barnes, “from his ass.” You lowered your gun and stepped in front of Zemo, staring the man down. Your fist balled and you launched it at Zemo, landing a solid hit to his cheekbone.

Barnes grabbed your hand, twisting your body to slot against his with your arm bent behind your back. He leaned close to your ear, breath making shivers trickle down your spine. “I only let you do that because I’ve wanted to for a while now, so don’t get any more ideas.” Your breath hitched because of the proximity of the man behind you.

“Alright, give me my Y/N back.” Sharon said, lowering her gun to holster it. Bucky held onto you for a few more seconds than necessary and then pushed you towards Sharon as he released you. You scoffed, then shoved your gun into the waistband of your jeans. Sam and Sharon had already started their own conversation by the time you calmed down enough to face Barnes.

Sharon bobbed her head to you, an unspoken language between the two of you. After bringing them into your home, Sam began admiring the artwork in the first floor gallery. “Looks like breaking the law is treating you two well.”

“Before even graduating into the Agency, I had a place over here. Never had any intention on using it, but here we are.” You started, “Then, after having to flee Berlin, for you,” You shot a look at Bucky, “we figured if we had to hustle, might as well enjoy the good life. Do you know how much we can get for a real Monet?”

“Deactivate your hustle mode. You sell fake Monet’s.” Sharon shot him a look, about to defend us when Zemo cut in.

“No. She means real. This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. All the classics.” Sam made a face of disbelief.

“It’s true. You know, half the artwork in museums like the Louvre is fake. Real stuff sits in places like this.” Bucky gestured to the gallery. Sam pulled his phone out of his suit pocket.

“Okay, guys, I see what you’re doing. You’re more worldly than good old Sam.” He was typing furiously as he spoke. Bucky passed him, soundlessly following you and Sharon to the upstairs apartment.

“Yeah. What’s Google say?” Once the five of you got upstairs, Sharon began walking them into her office, telling them that they needed to change because we were hosting clients. It didn’t take long for the men to switch outfits. It was refreshing to see Barnes in something other than combat gear or a torn Henley. Sharon followed you in the office, making a remark at Sam while he apologised.

“Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right? The way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know it’s all hypocrisy.” She said as you plopped yourself on one of the plush chairs across from the couch, holding a clear glass full of whiskey.

“He knows. And not so deep down.” Zemo added quietly, since when is Zemo informed? Sharon glazed over his comment, opting for asking about the new Cap while filling a glass for herself.

“Don’t get me started.” Barnes spoke for the first time since being downstairs. You narrowed your eyes at the man.

“Please. You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit.” You swung your glass to Zemo, “Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America! Cap’s best friend.” His gaze darted over to you, nose wrinkling at your comment.

“Do you know who I am?” He tried to be intimidating but it was just funny to you. You were taking a drink to moisten your throat to fire back a witty comeback, when Sharon spoke for you.

“Oh trust me, she knows. She did a report on you freshman year of high school.” You started choking on your drink as Sharon smirked from the couch next to Barnes. His brows raised and a smug smile graced his face.

“She did now?” Clearly he was a different man from the last time you saw him. Meeting his eyes for the fourth time ever, you were surprised with what you saw. There was almost a hunger lingering behind his eyes.

“Most definitely. I don’t even know how many times she went to the Smithsonian to see the exhibit about you.” You glared at Sharon, who continued to talk, unbothered by you. She raised her own glass to her lips, speaking into her cup, muffling her words.  “Honestly, think she developed a little crush.” Barnes’ eyes never left your face, his mind racing.

“Wait, so the entire time you were helping me and Steve, you had a crush on Tin Man?” Sam interjected, wanting to be included in the conversation. You rolled your eyes and gave a subtle nod to Sam. The action wasn’t missed by Bucky.

“Which is why I think it must’ve been really hard for you to ask him of all people for help. They comin’ down real hard on you out there?” You asked Barnes with a smirk and a head tilt towards Zemo. “I know he fucked you up real good, triggering the Soldier, Barnes.”

Sam laughed beside him. “Dude, that’s basically what you told Walker.” Barnes threw a glare at Sam, who had clapped a hand on his metal shoulder. The conversation dissipated after your comment, guess you killed the vibe.

Sam turned to a relaxed Sharon, “We need your help.” Her body tensed, neither one of you was ready to throw yourself back into enemy territory. “I can get your name cleared.” He dangled a huge bargaining chip in front of her face. You knew Sharon was eager to get back to the States. She misses her dad. It was unfair of Sam to use that as a way to gain her favor.

“Haggling with someone’s life like that isn’t okay, Sam.” You said quietly, focusing your gaze on the glass in your hand.

“It’s not like that, Y/N.”

“Yes, it is, Sam.” You said firmly. “You can’t just say something like that. I know you’re an Avenger. That’s great shit, but you need to realize that if you can’t deliver on your word, we go to jail or worse. You know that.”

“I don’t trust charity, Sam.” Sharon said from beside Barnes.

“All right, a deal then. You help us out, and I get your names cleared.” Your nostrils flared and you shook your head. Sharon agreed, blinded by the possibility of seeing her family again. You don’t doubt that she thought through all the outcomes, it just wasn’t the route you would’ve taken.

“We sell to some pretty connected people. Lay low, blend in, and enjoy the party.” She got up, exiting the office.

“Try to stay outta trouble, boys.” You said placing your glass on Sharon’s desk as you left. “We’ll see what we can find.”

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

You were standing next to Sharon when the three men joined the party. Leaning over to Sharon, you told her you were going to get a drink from the bar. You pushed your way through the crowd, planting yourself on a stool in front of the countertop. Nodding your head at the bartender, they passed you a bottle of club soda.

“Not drinking tonight?” A raspy voice questioned over your shoulder. You turned to face the owner as you shrugged your shoulders.

“Already had my fill. And technically, I’m supposed to be working, Barnes.” Your eyes met with his again. You couldn’t tell if it was the light in the room or if it was just him, but they were a deeper shade of blue than before. He leaned his weight on his elbow that was resting on the bar top next to you. He was so close you could feel his body heat rolling off him in waves.

His eyes roamed your face, stopping on your lips as he spoke. “You know you can call me Bucky, right?” You made a face, bringing your bottle to your mouth. He watched intently as your lips wrapped around the opening.

“We’ve never had a single conversation before today. And the first time you actually met me, you twisted my arm behind my back because I punched the dickwad standing next to you.” You took another sip and his eyes drifted down to your throat. He watched as it bobbed when you swallowed.

“So, yeah. I’m going to call you Barnes.” You leaned closer, “I’ve never been given permission to call you anything else.” You could tell you struck something. Something that he didn’t even possibly know about. His face heated and he had to clear his throat before speaking.

“Um, okay. Well you can call me Bucky or if you want, James.” Your brow quirked and you pulled back to take him in fully.

“How many people have you let call you that since you got your free will back?” Your tone was serious, but your face held a smile.

“None, doll.” His eyes ran over your face again. “I just want to hear how it’ll sound coming from your mouth.” One of his metal fingers came up to rest on your bottom lip as your smile grew.

“James.” You whispered, just for him. What he was giving you was a privilege, one you were going to revel in. One corner of his mouth tugged upwards.

“Again.” He growled as his finger remained on your lip.

“James.”

“Again.”

“James.” The party around the two of you faded away. In your reality, it was just you and the man in front of you. A peaceful place, where nothing could change what was happening right at that moment.

Of course, reality is a bitch. And you never got what you wanted. Your jaw clenched as soon as your phone pinged. James dropped his hand from your face as he read the text with you.

Found Nagel. Meet us outside and if you find Bucky, tell him too.

You scrunched your nose and bit your lip. James’ hand was quick to pull your lip from your front teeth, before resting there for a second as he studied your face. He stepped back quickly, nodding his head for you to follow him.

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

You don’t know how the hell Sharon managed to find him, but she did. You were in a shipping yard for storage cars. “Madripoor could give New York a run for its money.” Sam said as the five of you weaved your way through the containers.

“With a bounty on your head, the longer you’re in Madripoor, the less likely you’re ever leaving.” She glanced down at her phone in her hand. Nodding toward a red container, “Alright, he’s in there. Container 4621.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out five earpieces.

“We’ll keep watch while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry. We’re on borrowed time.” You said as you watched everyone situate their pieces. Sharon turned around and began walking down an aisle not far from the container Nagel was in. You stopped James before he could go anywhere.

“Hey, be careful.” His eyes met yours and they were back to the normal steel blue. “Don’t forget who you are, James.” Something flashed behind his eyes, but his face showed no change.

“You too, Y/N. Don’t make me come out here and save your ass.” His eyes flicked down quickly and a smile spread quickly. “I mean, not that I would mind.” You rolled your eyes and shoved his shoulder, turning and walking down the aisle Sharon did.

“So,” She was leaned against a rusted container with a smug smile. “You and Bucky, huh?” You groaned and stood next to her.

“I don’t know, Shar. Neither one of us should be in a relationship. Especially since we’re both Enemies of the State, well one of us is, the other one was.” You turned your head to look at her. “What do you think about all of this?” She opened her mouth to speak when you both heard something ricochet off a metal wall.

She raised a finger to her mouth and crouched down before pressing that same finger to her earpiece. “Guys, we have company.” She took off down one end of the aisle and you down the opposite, ready to attack from both sides. There were three men walking towards Nagel’s container, you shot a look down to Sharon and she nodded.

She came from the back with a baton, whacking the last guy once in the knees and once in the head, disarming him. When the front man turned to help his comrade, you did the same move to him with your own baton. You both continued trading blows with the men. You had effectively taken out the first man, using his thigh to latch yourself to the third man’s shoulders. Situating yourself to use your body weight to flip him over, definitely knocking him out.

“Every bounty hunter in the city is here. We gotta go now, boys!” You yelled to your earpiece as you watched Sharon fight off another opponent.

It wasn’t until the gunfire started that Sharon said something else into the piece. “Guys, we’re seriously outta time here.” You both split off, out of each other’s view, battling your own demons. You were currently dealing with two of those said demons, when a third approached from behind. Locking you in a chokehold as the other two continued punching your ribs.

One of the hunters was suddenly ripped away from you. Punches were landing and groans were echoing through the alleyways. You threw all your body weight forward, throwing your assailant over your shoulder. Two gunshots rang out and then a third one, which landed a bullet hole between your aggressors eyes. Your head whipped around to face James, whose arm dropped back to his side.

He walked towards you, putting a hand on your back leading you to where Sharon and Sam were standing. Zemo pulled up in a blue convertible car, “Supercharged.” was all he said. Sam pointed his finger at the man in the driver’s seat.

“You’re going back to jail.”

“Do you want to find Karli or not?” James sighed heavily, his shoulder sinking with the action.

“He’s right. We need him. And there’s two of us, and at least twenty of them.” James got in the front seat, leaving the door open for Sam.

“Fine. But if you try that shit again--”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Zemo raised his hands in surrender. Sam turned to Sharon.

“Well, that was one hell of a reunion.” You leaned over the open door to talk to James. He looked at you with a sad face.

“Why don’t you come back to the States with us?” He tilted his head. “We could clearly use your help, doll.” You smiled at that and licked your lips before responding.

“You know we can’t. Not yet anyway.” He placed his finger back on your bottom lip, maintaining eye contact. “This isn’t the last you’ll see of me, James. That I can promise you.” He smiled and dropped his hand back to his lap.

Sam climbed into the seat behind James. “You’re not going to move your seat up, are you?” James smirked before replying.

“No.” You watched as they drove off, desperately wanting to see James again already.

You turned back to Sharon and the two of you began walking back towards High Town. “I think you should go for it.” 

[bbyreigns]

Here For You.

jax teller x black!reader

Warnings: fluff, mentions of sex

My alarm rang loudly and I groaned at the idea of waking up and having such a long day ahead of me. It was a sunny day and the sunlight peeked through my blinds next to me. Reaching over, I turned my alarm off and sat up, stretching a bit. Looking to one side of the bed, I realized that once again, I was alone. It's been almost a year since my husband left me and our 1 year old daughter. I hadn't been the same since. I worked my ass off day and night to provide for my child. And I spent as much time with her as I could. I knew my husband bailing on me wasn't going to keep me from being a great mother. Rolling over to my nightstand, I saw my baby sleeping fast asleep on the monitor. 

Now's the time to take a shower while I can. I thought, climbing out of bed. Walking into my bathroom, I turned the shower knob on to hot, seeing the water flow steadily. Walking over to the mirror, I looked at myself, running my hands over my face in exhaustion. As I waited for the water to heat up, I grabbed my small speaker and turned my phone onto my favorite playlist. 

Allowing the water to touch my fingertips, I realized the shower was now hot enough and I stepped in. As I washed my body and let the warm water flow over my face, I thought about getting through yet another day. Quickly finishing up, I turned the water off and grabbed my towel, making my way back into my bedroom. Once I was dressed and lotioned and my teeth were brushed, I walked down the hall to my daughter's bedroom. Opening the door, my daughter smiled at me, her pacifier still in her mouth as she sat in her crib. 

"Good morning, baby," I cooed, as she reached her arms up for me to pick her up. I scooped her up, kissing her soft cheek. "Let's get dressed." I opened her closet, moving her closer to her clothes. 

"What would you like to wear today, munchkin?" I said, pulling a few dresses out of her closet. I let her reach out and choose one. Her little hand landed on a green dress with pink flowers. "Great choice, honey." 

After I changed her diaper and got her out of her PJs and dressed, we headed out of the house. I buckled her into her car seat and we were on our way. My mom normally takes her while I work. About five minutes into the ride, my low pressure light came on and I come feel my car leaning to one side. 

"Shit," I whispered, realizing I have a flat. "Looks like we're going to be late princess." 

I drove to the closest mechanic, Teller-Morrow, putting my car in park. I took my daughter out of her car seat, grabbed her diaper bag from the trunk and sat her on my hip. As I walked to the door, a few men came out. One was blond, crystal blue eyes, walked with a lean. Handsome. I thought. The other was blond too and seemed nervous and jittery. Looking at their jackets, I could tell they were on their way somewhere. I knew all about the Sons of Anarchy, but I also knew that what they do is what's necessary and best for Charming. 

"Hi, um I'm pretty sure I have a flat," I said, pointing to my slanted Honda Civic. 

"Looks like you've got more than that," the handsome one said. 

"Jesus, is it going to take a long time?" I asked. 

"You're going to have to leave it here for at least a day," he replied. I sighed before texting my supervisor that I wouldn't be in today. "I can take you and the little princess home." He smiled, poking my daughter's hand. She grinned shyly and put her head on my shoulder. I nodded and said thank you and leaned against my car. 

"I'm Jax, by the way," he stated. 

"Y/N. Nice to meet you," I replied with a smile. He told me he had a few things to tie up before he took me home so I waited by my car until he was finished. As I waited, I played with my daughter, throwing her up a little and catching her. She giggled, clutching me every time she came back down. 

"Can you give Mommy a kiss?" I cooed, holding her high again. As I brought her back down to eye level, she hummed, making that mmm sound with her lips.

"Mmwah," I said with her to meet her in the middle. "Ooohhh thank you baby. You are so sweet."

Little did I know, Jax had been watching some of our interaction. 

Second Person POV Jax had gone to let the other guys know where he was going. When he returned, he saw you making faces at your daughter as she giggled and throwing her in the air. 

"Who's the hot mom?" Opie asked and tapped him on the shoulder. Looking at you, Jax couldn't help but be attracted. 

"Not sure yet. She is hot though, right?" Jax replied. 

"For sure. You hittin' that?" Opie leaned over to ask. 

"Nah, don't know her all that well," Jax stated, glancing at Ope. 

"Hm. Shit, if you don't, I will," Ope chuckled. Jax smiled and nodded, making his way back to you. 

Your POV "Hey, you ready?" Jax asked. I nodded, grabbing my daughter's car seat out of my car. He walked me over to his truck and I buckled my daughter into her seat, before going to the passenger's side. Jax opened the door for me and I thanked him. As he drove, I told him my address and started to make small conversation. 

"I really appreciate you doing this," I said with a smile. 

"It's no problem. Have you lived in Charming a long time?" He questioned. 

"Almost two years. It's a nice town. Quiet. Crime kept at bay for the most part," I replied, glancing out of the window. 

"Yeah, Charming PD does a good job of that," he stated with hesitation. I chuckled at his statement. I knew Charming PD weren't the ones keeping the crime low. "What?"

"We both know it's not the cops handling the crime here. It's got everything to do with that jacket you have on," I said, looking at him. 

He nodded with a smile, saying "You think you know everything, huh?". 

I leaned over, putting my lips next to his ear. "Not everything, but I know enough about you, Jax Teller." We pulled up to my house and I glanced at my daughter who was fast asleep. 

"Pretty big house for just the two of you," Jax said. 

"Yeah, um I'm divorced. So it's just me and her now," I explained. He nodded and apologized. I grabbed my daughter from her car seat and walked her to the front door, unlocking it and turning to Jax. "Come in. I'm just gonna put her down in her room." 

I slowly walked her up to her room, giving her a kiss on the forehead, before shutting her door and grabbing the baby monitor on the way out. Jax stood by the front door waiting for me. 

"Thanks again for the ride home. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Something to drink?" I offered, leading him into the kitchen. 

"No thanks I'm alright. If you don't mind me asking, why'd you get divorced?" He inquired. 

"Um it's complicated. Everything was perfect l, especially when I found out I was pregnant. We'd been trying for a baby for a really long time. Rob was over the moon when we found out were having a girl. But I'm a laywer and I was working a big case. I wasn't home much right before we found out and in the beginning of my pregnancy. He thought I was cheating on him. Started being really aggressive and it only amplified when I gave birth," I started getting choked up as I spoke. "He didn't think she looked like him. Said that maybe I was sleeping around. Although really I was busting my ass on the biggest case in my career and about to bring in much more money than I'd ever had." 

Jax put his arm around me, pulling my head to his chest. "Anyway, he said he refused to take care of another man's baby. So he left us and left me with a 4 month old newborn baby," I cried softly. Looking up at Jax, I felt bad for crying. "Sorry, I just get a little emotional. I don't miss him or anything. I just wanted my little girl to have a father." 

"It's okay. Everything is going to be fine. You're a great mother and you're beautiful, darlin'. Any one would be lucky to have you," he glanced down at me, making eye contact. I stared into his icy blue eyes, my eyes switching from his eyes back to his lips over and over again. Lightly grabbing the back of my neck, he brought my lips to his, kissing me softly. I slightly pulled away and Jax wiped my tears away with his thumb, before connecting our lips again. We made out, slowly as our lips melted together. 

It had been a long time since I had sex and to be completely honest, I felt really needy. But for some reason, I trusted Jax. With his hand in mine, I led him to my bedroom, kicking my shoes off at the door. He assisted me in removing my pants and blazer, and lightly pushed me into the bed. The protective mother in me made me take a quick glance at the baby monitor, seeing my daughter still fast asleep. Jax kissed me again, beginning to kiss down my jawline and neck. He was extremely gentle with me, asking me if what he was doing was okay. Jax paid extra attention to making me feel good and that I finished. Multiple times. He made sure he didn't hurt me and I was grateful for that. I woke up two hours later with my head in Jax's chest. He was looking at me, kissing my forehead when I woke. 

"Hey," he said softly, kissing my lips. But for some reason, I was in pure panic. Looking at the baby monitor, I saw my daughter awake but playing with the rattles in her crib. I grabbed the sheet, wrapping it around my body quickly. "Everything alright?"

"I promise I don't normally do this. I'm sorry. I think you should go," I responded. I just had sex with someone I met today. I'm so not the hook up type. "If you're looking for a fuck buddy, I promise I'm not that."He looked at me confused, grabbing my arm and pulling me down to him. 

"That's not my intention, beautiful. I like you. I'd like to get to know you better," he said, running his fingers down my back. 

"Pretty sure we're past the getting to know each other part. Again, I think you should go, Jax," I said, trying to get up. 

"Alright," he responded, starting to get dressed. I washed my face in the bathroom, trying not to think about what I'd done. When he finished dressing, he walked behind me, placing his hands around my waist. He used his hand to gently free my neck as he placed light kisses on it, getting closer to my ear with each press of his lips. "But next time you’re lookin’ for some fun and preferably, wanna go out sometime, you know where to find me." 

I looked at him in the mirror as he smiled at me, biting his lip. Damn, that Teller charm. He left my bedroom on that note and I heard the front door close behind him. I sighed, pondering why I was so into this man I'd only met five hours ago. I put my robe on and checked the baby monitor once again, seeing her still playing. A little piece of green paper was next to it, with a number and a name on it. I rolled my eyes, thinking of that handsome biker who gave me butterflies. Making my way to my daughter's room, I picked her up, giving her a kiss on the forehead. But that Jax Teller never left my mind and I wasn't sure how to feel about that. 

[whump-town]

In With The New, Out With The Old

Hotch packing Jack up for college

None of it feels real.

For two years after he and Haley divorced he lived in an apartment of boxes. It was some sort of punishment he created for himself while also creating a dissonance he could be lost in -- that he didn’t need to unpack just in case. He had his suits in the closet, his work would not take the fall for his personal life’s failings. The coffee maker sat on the counter, one of the only appliances hooked into a light socket. The necessities followed -- two mugs for coffee, a glass tumbler for the whiskey sitting on the counter, and one plate for when he ordered take-out he couldn’t just eat out of the box.

It had taken him months to buy a mattress, he was perfectly miserable sleeping on the couch. He had only taken Jack to the apartment once, needing to switch into more park-appropriate clothing. Between them, he and Haley agreed that the best thing for Jack was consistency so he would spend all day with Hotch but he would always go home to Haley. He knew this could be used against him in court, Haley could take Jack from his so easily it terrified him but he also knew he’d let her. He was more powerful, he had more strings to pull and more people on his side but the thought of getting on the stand and having his friends call her a bad mother made him feel even worse. So he knew that if it came down to it, he would let Haley have Jack rather put either of them that sort of grueling case.

This was a shared thought between them. Both are aware of the other’s power over the other. Neither will act on their own.

He had only bought a mattress because of New York. Limping home he’d sunk down into his old faithful couch only to wake up the next morning with achingly stiff sutures in his leg and his face stuck to a throw pillow, the blood drying like glue. He had to call Emily and Derek that afternoon. Unable to drive himself with his concussion and consequential blurred vision Emily had come over to pick him up, never said a word about what he’d been sleeping on in the months before. Neither did Derek when Hotch got too dizzy coming up the stairs, the stitches in his leg bleeding through his jeans and so pale Emily had to hold him upright to get him to the bench in the lobby. He was left there, listening to Derek and Emily bicker their way into forcing the mattress into the apartment through the pounding sound of blood rushing in his ears.

That was years ago and yet they’ve created its mirror image once again in his living room.

All of Jack’s belongings in boxes spread out in every room of the house. Packing up to leave.

“Art?” Emily mumbles disapprovingly. She’s knelt down in front of Jack’s bookshelf, dismantling the organized shelves to pack them into boxes. It’s a different method than the one that Hotch uses. Jack has them categorized by author and general theme and as Emily takes down all the books she’s gotten him about cults and psychology and crime she can’t help but feel a little cheated. Jack knows all about crime. He’s had Macdonald’s Triad memorized since he was five -- could give that method of thought its critical analysis as not a precursor to antisocial or serial killer behavior but more as a demonstration of a child’s poor coping skills or as the indicator of a dysfunctional home environment. He’s a well of information about cults, knows the “B.I.T.E.” system.

And he’s throwing all that away because Hotch took him to too many museums as a child?

Jack doesn’t say anything when he hears her grumble about art again, he’s had this conversation so many times. He knows she’s not really mad and she’s not even that irked but she needs to do something with the feelings she has about him leaving and this is just the best way she’s come up with. Better than crying -- which she’s also done far too much of.

“I think art is a great idea, kid.” Derek teases his hair as he passes, sweaty and hot from dragging Jack’s belongings around the place.

Hotch works slowly where he’s been assigned. They all work around him. He’s more freelance than the others. His job is to do what he can and leave the rest for someone else. Today his physical capabilities are not in the way. Derek does all the heavy lifting that Hotch knows is supposed to be assigned to him, it’s his duty as the father of the freshman moving away. He finds himself in the living room, one of Haley’s old photo albums on his lap. Thumbing pictures he can remember going with Haley to print. Pictures he can remember being in. Ones that he took.

He’s crying again.

Emily comes out with a box of books on her hip, having figured out the perfect ratio of books to box to prevent them from falling out the bottom. She sees Hotch wiping his face with a tissue, hiding away but unable to fully pull away right now. The hurt raw. The fear is too much.

The second that Hotch got the chance he left home and never came back. Over the years he returned to his hometown only when he had to -- when Haley’s parents couldn’t be convinced to come to see them. It didn’t matter how down bad he was, Hotch did it on his own. When his mother died when he was thirty he’d talked to her only once since moving out. Then it had only been for the benefit of Sean, who he had driven all the back to Virginia to collect and drove to college.

He fears Jack will do the same and it terrifies him in so many ways.

His own death will come quickly, he knows he’s only made it this long because he’s not alone. Without Jack, there’s no reason to keep going on, not with the way his body aches from years of abuse and neglect. More than that, he knows what growing up that fast did to him. As a child, the things that happen to you are out of your control. Children are sponges, not yet able to take control and mold themselves. So their reactions to abuse and neglect and even just trivial everyday things are but a reaction they are taught to form or never corrected on. But Hotch never corrected his behaviors as a young adult. He couldn’t bring himself to trust anyone, not at twenty, or thirty, and still at forty.

He spent his twentieth birthday on the side of the highway in a broken down car freezing his ass off with negative twenty-three cents in his bank account. No one to call because he couldn’t bring himself to believe anyone would come -- but Haley would have, or Jessica, or the sociology professor who gave him his number for emergencies or “just anything you can think of, just in case you need me”.

He doesn’t wish anything like that on Jack.

The cycle of self-destruction and fear and loathing.

But Jack knows how to form healthy relationships with people. He’s more worried about Hotch.

The car ride is nearly silent.

Jack cranks his window down and lays his head on the seal, lets the wind blow his hair back from his skin, and closes his eyes. There’s no air conditioning but it’s not that bad. The air has cooled off, the thunderstorms taking over the area sucking the humidity from the air as the wind picks up. It’ll get bad again in a day or so but today is nice and Jack wants to enjoy it. To sit contently with his dad and just try to soak it in before he’s thrown into the world of college.

Emily had promised him several times she’d make sure that Hotch didn’t turn himself into a hermit. Jack has grown up watching those two spar off so he knows she’s perfectly capable of getting Hotch out of the house. More than that, Jack knows he’s just going to miss his dad.

“Please--” Jack’s in the middle of trying to reorganize his stuff when he sees Hotch come in with one of the big boxes, one of the heavy ones. “Dad!” Jack takes it from him, not listening to Hotch’s complaint about being able to carry a few boxes. That he won’t break that easily. “Please, just leave the heavy stuff to Emily and Derek. Help me put my clothes away? Please?”

He nearly cries again folding Jack’s t-shirts away. Once upon a time, Jack’s shirts were about the size of his hand. Tiny delicate little things about the size of rags. Now he’s wearing the same size as Hotch, a grown man standing there racing to beat Emily to the heavy stuff because he doesn’t want her lifting it all either.

“Well,” Derek announces, setting the minifridge down, “that’s the last of it.”

Emily offers Hotch her hand and he takes it, grunting as he moves his body back upright.

“Well,” he declares, looking around the room. “We’ll leave you to it. Let you get everything sorted out how you like.” Hotch smiles and Emily and Derek step in to take their hugs, imparting half-wise ideas and a no-questions-asked ride home from anywhere.

“I love you,” Hotch says, he’s quick because he knows he can’t keep his composure if he stays here for too much longer. “I’ll send you care packages, you’ll just have to text me if you think of something I don’t send.”

Jack nods, pretending to make himself busy putting away the rest of his clothes. Trying to downplay his own feelings.

“Ok.”

Hotch nods and they leave, he doesn’t want to make a scene. They’ve hugged and Jack needs to unpack. He’s done. He’s only two doors away when he hears Jack’s door gets thrown open.

“Dad!” Hotch turns and stumbles, an armful of the little boy who was once the size of his forearm. He squeezes Jack tight, laughing through his tears when Jack holds on. “I love you too.”

Hotch holds him for a solid minute, just balanced there with his hand on the back of Jack’s head. “Alright,” he whispers. He sniffles a little, smiling as he cups Jack’s cheek wiping away a tear with his thumb. “I’m just a phone call away, okay? Any time of the night, you know where I am. You’ll be fine. You’re going to make mistakes and you’re going to fail tests and cry over boys and drink too much but you’ll be okay. And-- And if you’re not…”

Jack nods, smiling as he says, “I’ll call Emily.”

Hotch smirks, “well.. After a certain hour, yeah I suppose you’ll have to but yeah. Just call, okay?”

“I’ll call.”

Hotch nods and he has to force himself to let go and walk away. To let Jack do this.

They’re halfway down the hall, far enough away now that Jack won’t see or hear when Hotch starts to cry. He forces himself to keep going. Not to look back. Emily takes his hand, squeezes his fingers and he looks over at her tears in his eyes, and tries to smile.

Emily drives his truck home, she plans on feeding him chocolate and ice cream, and wine this afternoon to improve his mood. He gets a text and he smirks, he actually laughs.

“Let me know when you get home, old man. Tell Emily not to keep you out too late.”

[sithsecrets]

one and lonely | din djarin x reader

you and mando visit one of his old friends at a corellian strip club, and doubt begins to set in. in return, mando gives you something no one’s ever had: his name.

---

2.8k words

mentions: implied/referenced piv sex, fem!reader, strippers, strip clubs, original female character, mild jealousy, mild hurt/comfort, mild smut, fluffy at the end

---

In hindsight, you have no idea why you agreed to do this. It probably has a lot to do with the words Mando used, how he asked you and when he asked you.

“I know someone who can watch the baby,” he had said, murmuring in your ear under the cover of darkness. “I need you to come with me. Will you?”

Need— that one little word is what made you say yes, heart jumping in your throat the second you heard it. And what a sound it was, dripping from Mando’s tongue raw, the static of the modulator not touching a single bit of the word. It’s like he knew you couldn’t say no to him then, not when he was naked and laid out beside you in the pitch-black hull, helmet off— no creed to abide by, no business to attend to, just him. Then he’s talking about needing your help, insinuating that he wants you to assist him bring in bringing in this bounty, and well… It hit all the right spots inside you, the raw ones that need gentle handling, and you said yes without second’s hesitation.

Since it all began, what you and Mando do together in the dark has felt vaguely unreal, the sex and the talking and the vulnerability of it all so foreign and ridiculous in the light of day. But you this right here, this strip club on Corellia? It’s realer than real, your senses overloaded by the sights and sounds, by the smells and textures. Your first instinct is to turn right back around, but Mando’s got you by the arm, gently leading you through the room.

“Find a table near the stage,” he tells you, speaking in your ear to be heard over the thudding, fast music. “I have to meet someone. Send me a comm immediately if you see the quarry, alright?”

All you can do is nod, distraught as Mando abandons you near the front of the club. You watch him walk away, colorful lights bouncing off the beskar as he goes, and then you do as you’re told, taking a seat at a table as far away from other patrons as possible.

Alone and completely out of your element, you have no idea how to act. You suppose you should try to blend in, but you feel shy watching the show. The women are half-naked and unbelievably beautiful, practically levitating as they perform onstage. You have no idea how they’re doing half of what they’re doing on their poles, and you envy their sex appeal, their confidence. You’d sooner die than give one of these patrons the time of day, but to watch them fawn over the dancers and give them money does make you feel just the slightest bit less-than. You could never be so bold as to work a job like this one, and the attention, well… Nobody’s ever going to look at you like that, not even the most desperate man, and you’re sure as hell never going to have anyone throwing credit after credit your way like it’s their honor to do so.

“It’s okay if you want to look, honey. Nobody’s going to judge you, not in here.”

The sound of a voice above you has you jolting in your seat, your train of thought crashing and then disappearing like it never existed in the first place. You look up to see who’s addressing you, only to find that it’s not a someone at all, but a goddess. Never in your whole life have you been this close to someone so gorgeous, and you finally understand what it means to be struck speechless by a person’s beauty.

The woman seems to sense what you’re feeling, and a small, almost satisfied smile creeps over her perfectly painted mouth. She leans down, her curtain of thick, silky red hair swinging, and you catch the scent of something spicy all around her. Perfume, you think, but not the cheap kind. “Are you here all by yourself, baby?”

Something in your brain sputters back to life, and you’re able to speak again.

“No,” you blurt, “I— I’m here with my friend. He has to talk to someone.”

The second the words leave your mouth, you feel like you’ve said too much, done too much— your gaze went straight to Mando when you started talking about him, and the redheaded goddess is looking dead at him now. And that’s just what he needs, more attention than he’s already getting with all that beskar on his body. Mando always puts a premium on secrecy, especially during his hunts, yet here you are spouting off all his business to someone you just met. Fucking unbelievable.

“The Mandalorian is your friend?”

You couldn’t lie to this woman, not even if you wanted to, and so you find yourself nodding before you can think about what you’re doing. She looks back at him one last time, the jewels on her skimpy costume flashing, and then you’re the object of her full attention once more.

“Loosen up, honey,” she says to you, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face with a soft, manicured hand. “I’ll send you a drink on me.”

The goes the way she came, disappearing more than she walks away. A few minutes later, a waitress does come by with a drink for you, but you still don’t have the nerve to turn your gaze towards the dancers. No, instead you keep your eyes essentially glued to the floor, only peeking up now and then to glance at Mando. He’s still at the bar every time you look, stock still and unbothered, almost like a statue someone affixed to the stool he’s seated on.

About the fourth time you do this, you’re startled to find that Mando’s no longer alone, accompanied now by the very same redhead that bought you a drink. She’s just as stunning at distance, perched on the stool like it was made for her, hair shining under the lights. The shape of her body had been lost on you before, but it would seem that that, too, is utter perfection. Jealousy flashes up inside you when Mando leans in close, giving her his full attention as she talks. Whatever’s being said must be important, the set of her face serious as she listens to him in turn. Eventually, the conversation wraps up, and then Mando’s coming to collect you from your table. The two of you leave together, and you’ve never been more relieved to get back to the Crest.

Though your little jaunt into Corellia’s night life was anything but, the rest of your evening is routine. You and Din collect the Child from his friend, you make dinner when you get back to the ship, and when the baby falls asleep, Mando cuts the lights and fucks you for the better part of an hour. You’re left sated and sleepy by the end of it all, already dozing off as Mando cleans his cum off your stomach with a rag.

Mando had you in his arms when you finally went out for good, but you wake up cold and alone, blinking sleep out of your eyes in the dimness of the hull. You pull on a new pair of underwear and a loose shirt, stumbling back towards the armory after a quick check on the baby. He’s still sound asleep, but you know Mando’s up and about if the noise in the back is anything to go by.

Sure enough, you find him cleaning his blaster, perched on a crate with some supplies laid out nearby.

“Hey,” is all Mando says to you, barely looking up from his work. You feel it still, though, the way he reaches out to pinch the back of your thigh as you walk to the pantry, and that makes something warm bloom in your chest.

It’s quiet for a while, just you munching on your snack as Mando works on his weapons. There’s a clink here and there, a crinkle of the bag in your hands, but neither one of you speaks at all. As you sit there and watch Mando clean and count and calibrate, you can’t help but think back on all that’s happened today, on the club and that woman who spoke to both of you. The smell of her perfume is still vivid in your mind.

The smell of her perfume, and the way Mando sat so close to her.

“That woman you met with tonight was nice,” you say slowly, trying to fish for information without being too obvious. You’d like to know if Mando knew her before tonight, and how he came to discover that club at all. There’s so much of his life that predates you, so much of his history that you’ll likely never know, and it’s times like these when that fact comes into sharp focus.

Mando doesn’t even raise his head. “She liked you.”

That makes you flush. “We didn’t even talk for five minutes.”

“She liked you anyway.” Finally, you earn yourself a glance. “Sypha’s just like that.”

Sypha. Even her name is sexy.

“You know her?”

“She’s a friend,” Mando affirms, shrugging. “A lot of people pass through her place. She’s always good for information when I need it.”

You nod, trying to stay causal. “How did you two meet?”

“We know some of the same people. I cut her in a bounty, Maker, what, five years ago maybe? Anyway, I’ve kept in touch ever since. Like I said, she sees a lot of faces.”

That genuinely makes a lot of sense, but you know that Mando doesn’t consider just anybody a friend.

“Have you had sex with her?”

It’s risky question, and you’ve really got no right to ask it. But since you and Mando started hooking up, you’ve always wondered what he’s comparing you to in his head, always wanted to know how you measure up to the women he’s had in the past. Call it jealousy, call it insecurity, hell, call it self-absorption— in any case, you just want to know. You have to know.

Mando’s hands go completely still, abandoning his work in his lap as he raises his head to look at you. You feel small and helpless before him, and you wonder if he knows that he had your dignity, your ego, and, most importantly, your heart clenched between his teeth. Just the slightest bit of pressure, one puncture from a sharp, dismissive word, and he could destroy all three.

“Yeah,” he finally says, “a few times. But that was back in the day.”

A few times stings, but he’s not exactly telling you to fuck off and mind your own business. You know you should quit while you’re ahead, but you feel like a woman possessed, words tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Did you want to hook up with her tonight?” You take a breath, think about how that might have sounded. “I mean— If I wasn’t there, if I hadn’t been waiting for you, would you have gone in the back with her?”

You know he knows what you’re talking about, Mando’s not stupid. He saw how some of the dancers would lead patrons back behind a curtain and off into another part of the club, he saw it because you saw it, and Mando doesn’t miss a thing.

The blaster and his tools now fully abandoned, you know Mando’s appraising you, his gaze intense even behind the helmet. An apology sits poised right on the tip of your tongue the instant you’re done speaking, because who the fuck do you think you are? Mando’s girlfriend or something? And even if you were, even if he did call you his and show you off like that, he’s a grown man. He has a past, and he has a right to have a past, regardless of what it involves. Just because you’ve had sex with a grand total of two people in your entire lifetime doesn’t justify you being upset at the fact that Mando’s known more than one woman before you, whether he paid to know them or not.

“Sypha never took me in the back, not even back then.” Mando doesn’t sound upset, but the tone of his voice has certainly changed. “And no, mesh’la, I didn’t want to fuck her tonight, and she didn’t want me either. All that’s long gone between us. And even if she did ask, I wouldn’t have accepted. I wouldn’t make a fool of you like that.”

You must look as confused as you feel because Mando shifts on his crate, tilting his head your way. “Cyare,” he says, disbelieving, “do you really think I’d do that? Fuck some other woman while you’re here waiting for me to come back?”

It feels like somebody picked your brain up and shook it, all the thing you could say jumbling up in your head. “Well, we never… You never… I don’t know what I thought, Mando. I’m sorry.”

He sighs, deep and tired, but you don’t think it’s directed at you. “No,” he says, “I’m sorry. I don’t— I’m not good at this, and I know that. I’m not good at talking, especially when it’s about you, or what we do when the baby’s asleep, or how I feel. Just… Just know that when I meet with someone, whether you’re there or not, it’s all business. You’re the only one, alright?”

Once again, you have absolutely no idea what to say. You’re not sure you could talk around the lump in your throat anyway, even if you did have the words to express how you feel. Tears burn the corners of your eyes, but you refuse to cry, deciding that that would be entirely too dramatic.

“I know the fact that I’ve been with other people worries you—”

“It’s doesn’t,” you cut, lying through your teeth. You’d sooner die than have Mando think that you judge him for his past.

“It worries you,” he presses, “but it shouldn’t. You have something that none of them have ever had, something they’ll never get to have, period.”

Your heart leaps in your throat, thoughts racing. “What’s that?”

“My name.”

“But everyone calls you Mando. When—”

“No,” he says, speaking over you, “my actual name. The name my parents gave me.”

You think for a moment there that you’re still sleeping, that you never woke up from your little post-sex slumber and that this is all a dream. But no, Mando really is beckoning you over, gloved hands reaching out to grab hold of your waist as you lean in close. The two of you are alone on the ship, save for your sleeping baby, but even so, the whole thing is secretive, hush hush like a ritual. And you think that’s a fitting way to treat this, a fitting way to behave as Mando reveals one of his most closely guarded personal details.

“Close your eyes,” Mando commands, speaking softly, and your heart stops as you think of the lights— one false move, one flutter of an eyelid, and you’ll see it all. You’ll see him.

“Mando—”

“Close your eyes, mesh’la,” he repeats. “I trust you.”

Those last three words alone are enough to put your body on autopilot, and so you do as you’re told, eyes slipping closed. The sound of Mando removing his helmet is unmistakable, the beskar landing with a thunk beside him. Your stomach flutters when you feel his breath on your ear, the warmth of it so familiar and yet so foreign all at the same time.

“My name is Din,” he whispers, voice softer than you ever thought it could be. “Din Djarin. You can’t call me that in front of other people, but here when we’re alone, when we’re with the Child, you can say it all you want.”

“Din,” you say, experimenting with the name, trying it out on your tongue. A hand trails up and down, up and down, up and down the inside of your thigh, and so you sigh it again. “Din.”

“I like how you say my name,” Din tells you, and it takes all you have to keep your eyes clamped shut. “But I’m sure I’ll like how you moan it that much more. Go lie down, I’ll be there in a minute.”

You don’t have to be told twice.

[onechicagorpf]

Two Can Play This Game

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader (Chicago Med ED doctor)

Summary: Y/N and Jay have a very undefined relationship, which causes problems when Jay decides to meet with Ally, his ex, for drinks. Y/N’s not one to take things lightly, so when Jay dismisses her jealousy she decides to give him a taste of his own medicine...

Warnings: Loud yelling-at-each-other arguments, which can be triggering, so please watch out! Swearing + dubious medical content, as per usual lol

A/N: I just needed a break before I got started on Not A Stranger Part 4, so this happened! Enjoy! As per usual, please leave comments if you really liked it - they mean a lot!

The sun is bearing down on you hard, and you feel a trickle of sweat go down the back of your neck.

“Need a drink?” It’s Ethan, tossing a cool bottle of water at you. Grinning, you catch it and quickly begin to empty it into your mouth.

Ethan’s frowning, looking up into the sky. “Some days, I just don’t get Chicago. It’s either freezing because it’s the polar vortex, or it’s boiling hot because - well. Whatever. I hate this.” Crushing the plastic bottle, you toss it into a nearby trashcan. “We’ve cleared everyone?” You ask, gesturing to the relatively less frantic movement of firefighters, cops, and doctors on the road. Ethan nods.

A gas explosion had gone off in an apartment, and it was bad enough that CFD paged ED doctors to come down and treat some patients on the scene. Natalie, Connor, Lanik and the student doctors opted to stay behind and hold down the fort, so you were dispatched out with Will and Ethan. For the last hour and a half, you’d been busy running triage and treating whatever burns, smoke inhalations, and other trauma injuries came your way. Luckily, the fire had been contained to just one floor, so there were only a few really awful burns. But of course, this is Chicago so there’s only so much luck going around.

The building was an old one, and that coupled with several structural defects meant that the south face of the building had partially collapsed. So in essence, for every burn victim CFD pulled out, there were about three penetrating or blunt traumas from falling concrete.

“Yeah, but I’d rather treat trauma from a falling object than burns any day,” Ethan comments and you raise your eyebrows. “See, if you’d told me that at the start I would’ve just taken all the burn vics and tossed the rest to you.” Ethan throws his hands up, as you start laughing. “Okay hold on, I didn’t say I wanted to take them all – ” “You guys good?” Cruz swings by, soot and sweat on his face. He takes off his helmet with a sigh, and his shoulders sag like he’s been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Should be asking you that. Are you guys done with search and rescue?” You ask, kicking a nearby plastic chair towards him. Cruz thanks you and starts taking off his equipment. “Yeah, we’ve cleared building. CPD’s in there now.” You nod, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of the police - well specifically at the thought of one detective who you know is on scene…

Except you’re supposed to be mad at him now, so stop thinking about him!

“So they think this is arson? And that it’s related to some case Intelligence is working?” Ethan asks, and Cruz nods, “Seems that way, yeah.”

There’s a moment of silence, and your eyes scan the area, watching patrol officers lift up police tape for the last few victims being wheeled into ambulances. You get up, ready to check with Will if he’s ready to go back when Cruz kicks at your feet, a cheeky smile on his face.

“So what’s this I hear about you and the younger Halstead being on the outs?” His eyes light up, and you groan, swearing. Ethan laughs, and you shoot him a glare, to which he simply shrugs like as if he’s got nothing to do with this.

You turn back to Cruz, narrowing your eyes at him. “Who told you and what do you know?”

“All I know is that you and Jay were both at Molly’s last night and you didn’t even look at each other.” Cruz pouts, acting all sad. “What happened to my favourite detective-doctor duo, huh? Why the trouble in paradise?”

You roll your eyes. “We’re fine. We just…were hanging out with different groups of people last night.” Shrugging your shoulders, you lean against the nearby table of supplies, trying to look all nonchalant. Ethan raises his eyebrows, “So you’re definitely not pissed about the blonde chick Jay had drinks with 2 nights ago?”

“Okay, fuck you - ” You exclaim, unable to hide your rage at that memory. Which Ethan and Cruz find hilarious, apparently, because they’re throwing their heads back and laughing.

“You guys suck,” You punch Cruz in the arm as you walk away; the two men calling you back while still laughing. You flip your middle finger at them, which elicits an outraged “Hey!” Shaking your head, you chuckle as well.

The Med ED/Firehouse 51/Intelligence circle is a tight one and you love it - love having friends who are more or less in the same line of work, friends you can lean on, friends who don’t get pissed when you have to cancel on them last minute. But the flip side of that is the fact that nothing stays secret. Gossip is most the valuable currency in that social circle, so if Cruz and Ethan know, then it’s not a bad guess to think everyone knows.

“Dude, c’mon. You’re an adult. Just take the damn injection!” Severide’s voice catches your attention, and you turn. He’s standing at the back of an ambulance, with Will and Jay by his side (your heart, again, skips a beat, which only pisses you off because ugh, you’re so bad at being angry at him!). The three of them are crowded around a fairly attractive, topless blonde man sitting in the back of the ambulance, shaking his head vehemently. You start making your way towards them, listening in.

“Hell nah – I’m not letting you stab me with that shit – ” The guy’s eyes are wide, and he’s leaning back from Will.

“It’s just a tetanus shot,” Will explains, exasperated. He points to the guy’s side, where a bandaged piece of gauze has been stuck to his skin. “The rusty stairwell scratched you, so you need to get a tetanus shot.”

“I said, I’m not fucking doing needles!” Hot blond guy yells and Jay runs his hand down his face. “Okay dude seriously, I can’t question you about the fire unless you get treated first, so please just take the damn shot so we can all move on with our lives – ”

“What’s going on?” You interject, hands on your hips. All four men turn, and you’re very careful to not make eye contact with Jay. Will and Kelly both immediately shoot furtive glances at Jay once they see you, so obviously they also know that you and Jay are having an argument. Great!

I mean, it has to have been Jay’s fault, because you didn’t tell anyone…well except for Natalie…who might have told Maggie…who might have told April…who might have told Kelly - shit. Well, it doesn’t matter. The whole thing is only happening because of Jay. Technically the two of you weren’t really dating – it was just a couple of hookups, but then you also started hanging out a lot together, and it got to the point where everyone knew that the two of you were basically kinda sorta an item.

You liked that you guys never had to sit down and talk about what exactly the two of you were – all that meant was that you guys were strong and confident and that you didn’t need to have a discussion about where you stood!

Or at least that’s what it meant to you. Jay apparently thought it meant it was completely okay to go have drinks with an on and off ex from high school, who he’d admitted to you he’d hooked up with on multiple occasions in the past. When you (rightfully!) got pissed at him, he just frowned and said “What’s the problem? We’re not together.”

To which you responded very maturely.

So maturely!

In a very, very responsible way…

Okay, fine, maybe you screamed “FUCK YOU!” at the top of your lungs and left his apartment, slamming his front door loud enough to wake up all the neighbours.

You get that you’re maybe being a little over-dramatic, and maybe it is on you because you just assumed you didn’t have to have that conversation with Jay. But it hurt you immensely how he thought it was okay to go have drinks with an ex (an ex!) without thinking about you at all.

“Blake here tripped on his way down the fire escape and got scraped by a rusty stairwell, but he’s refusing his tetanus shot.” Will explains, snapping you out of your reverie.

You turn to the guy just in time to catch him giving you a very slow once over, smirking.

Okay…

“How come a big strong guy like you is scared of needles, hmm?” You tilt your head, putting on your best flirty voice. It’s just a thing that tends to work with unruly male patients, you’ve learned over the years.

And yeah, maybe it can be a side benefit that Jay’s going to be an audience to you flirting with someone else…serves him right!

“I’m uh, I’m not actually scared of needles. Just didn’t trust that guy – ” He nods towards Will, who throws his hands in the air, “ – to do a good job you know? Take a delicate hand for these things. Speaking of which…you look like you’re pretty good with your hands,” Blake licks his lips, flirting with you blatantly. You have to press your lips against each other to not burst out laughing.

“Dude…” Jay threatens in a deep, dark voice, but stops when you turn around and grab the tetanus shot pack out of Will’s hands. You step towards Blake, who’s looking up at you with lust in his eyes as he shifts for you. Wiping his shoulder down with an alcohol swab, you find a good spot.

“I’m pretty good with my hands too, by the way,” Blake supplies, winking and you nod. “I’ll bet,” You reply, as someone behind you scoffs. From the corner of your eye, you can see Kelly turn away, trying not to laugh.

You’re much closer to Blake than you really need to be, not that he minds – in fact you’re pretty sure he’s having a great time checking you out up close. He curses under his breath when you inject him, but quickly recovers. You rub on the jab site once done, and trash the used pack. “Good to go,” You shoot Blake a smile. “Oh, one more thing!”

You turn, looking at a very frowny, jaws tight, arms-crossed-over-his-chest Jay Halstead. “Let me borrow that,” You reach forward and take his notepad and pen from him, before scribbling down your number on the top most sheet. Ripping it off, you press it against Blake’s chest, winking. Blake’s hands come up to take the piece of paper, grinning, briefly brushing your fingers as you pull away. Jay’s jaw is on the floor when you return his notepad and pen to him, and you can see Will just shake his head at you, amusement all over his face.

“Alright, let’s go!” You say to Will, and the two of you plus Kelly leave Jay behind with Blake.

“Jay’s going to murder that guy, you know right?” Kelly asks, once you’re out out earshot from Jay. “Like, he’s going down for a homicide. You just got an innocent man killed.” You chuckle and Will lets out a low whistle.

“I’m not gonna say he didn’t have that coming, but damn that was harsh.” The older Halstead says, still laughing.

Shrugging your shoulders, you act innocent. “I don’t know what you guys are talking about – I was just making friends!”

Will and Kelly both look at each other before looking back at you.

“Oh, yeah, of course – ”

“Obviously, what else could that have been – ”

You punch them both in the shoulder at their faux-agreement, the three of you laughing. Ethan comes over, saying there’s an ambulance ready to take them back to Med. You and Will say your goodbyes to Kelly, and take your leave.

***

It’s almost midnight when you finally get home. Hip-checking your door close behind you, you start undoing your scarf and carelessly toss it onto your coffee table, before collapsing onto your couch. Your hand roams the crevices of your couch, finding the plastic remote and turning on your TV. Rubbing your eyes while yawning, your TV comes alive to the news of the day. As if on cue, the screen is filled with videos of the building from earlier this morning.

“…while the gas explosion was first assumed to be an accident, it was later proven by CPD Intelligence that it was started by Derrick Henderson, a 35 year-old construction worker from Englewood, who…”

There’s a knock on your door, three loud raps. You blink, confused, and there’s another three. Frowning, you sit up, and you hear: “Y/N, I know you’re in there, c’mon just…just let me in, please,” Jay’s voice is muffled from the other side of your front door, but you know it’s him. Groaning, you get up and make your way over, unlatching your door.

“What do you want.” You intone, seeing him standing there in your threshold. He grabs the door with his hand, like as if he’s afraid you’re gonna shut the door in his face.

“I think I owe you an apology,” Jay starts and you hum, agreeing. “And then I think you owe me an apology,” He finishes, and your mouth falls open.

“What the fuck did I do!” You yell, shoving against his chest. Unfortunately for you, he doesn’t even budge - which is kinda hot, actually, wait, dammit - focus!

Jay’s eyes go wide, like he can’t believe you’re claiming innocence. “Are you kiddi – that whole thing! With – with Blake, the fucking moron, who was basically stripping you with his eyes! That was so unnecessary – ”

“You literally went on a date with your ex and you’re telling ME what’s unnecessary?! You – ”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Your neighbour from down the hall yells, and both you and Jay shut up. “NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOUR PROBLEMS YOU FUCKING MORONS!”

Jay scoffs, and turns to step down your hallway to your neighbour’s apartment when you reach out, grab him by his tee and unceremoniously drag him into your apartment. Slamming the door behind you, you turn to give him a piece of your mind.

“You’re the asshole who told me that we weren’t really together so it didn’t matter if you went out with your ex-girlfriend! So why the fuck is it a problem if I give my number out, huh?!”

Jay throws his hands in the air. “I’m sorry, okay! I didn’t fucking – I wasn’t thinking when I did what I did and I can see know that it probably really hurt you, but I swear I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t want to hurt you; I just fucked up. But you – you went out of your WAY to piss me off – ”

“ALL I DID WAS GIVE OUT MY NUMBER – ”

“IN FRONT OF ME! TO SOME OTHER GUY! WHEN I – ”

The two of you jump when there’s loud banging on your door. “I’M CALLING THE FUCKING POLICE ON YOU TWO!”

Jay wrenches your door open and you see your pissed off neighbour on the other side. “I’M HER BOYFRIEND AND I’M THE FUCKING POLICE, SO YOU’D JUST BE CALLING ME!” He slams the door shut and turns, running his hands over his face.

“Okay, okay, we gotta stop yelling. Anyway, my point is – what?” Jay asks, as you stand unmoving, mouth slightly open.

When you eventually find your voice, all you can say is - “You’re my boyfriend?”

“That’s what I wanted to tell you – ” Jay smiles, reaching for you but you just step back.

“That you just decided you’re my boyfriend? Because this relationship is an autocracy?” You glare at him, getting angry again. The nerve of this guy!

Not that your heart didn’t practically soar when he called himself your boyfriend, but…

“No, no, we’re very democratic, and we should talk about this more, once we’re done with all the yelling.” Jay announces, and then he smiles. “I’m just saying I love you.”

“See, no, this is exactly the kind of issue with you - you just make decisions and act like you’re right and you can do whatever you want and you can go out with your ex if you want and that’s all supposed to be fine but the moment I – as a joke – hand out my number to some guy to give you a taste of your medicine, I’m the one who crossed a line and – wait, what?” You cut yourself off, confused if you’re hearing things.

“There we go,” Jay laughs, a fond smile etched on his face, as you finally process what he said.

“Did you just…did you just say you love me?” You ask, your voice soft as you step up to him.

“Yeah,” Jay’s grinning now, right in front of you. “I’m sorry it took me a while to realise it, but…I love you.”

You just blink at him for a couple of seconds, eyes starting to tear up. And then you punch him in the chest as hard as you can.

“Ow! What the fuck?!” Jay asks, eyes wide as he frowns, wholly confused.

“You fucking – fuck!” You whisper angrily, not wanting to piss off your neighbour again. “You had to fucking go out on a date with your ex-girlfriend and piss me the fuck off and make me make you jealous before you realised that you love me?!”

“I’ve been hit in the head multiple times…?” Jay shrugs apologetically.

“You’re an idiot.” You say, before cupping the back of his neck with your hand and pulling him down to press your lips together.

You can feel Jay smile through the kiss, bringing his hands up to cradle your face as he deepens the kiss, parting your lips. You’ve kissed each other many times before, in many ways – good morning pecks, in-the-middle-of-sex makeouts, teasing neck kisses – but something about this kiss is entirely new. It’s just…warm, and loving, and delicate and beautiful and just – just perfect.

When you pull apart, the two of you rest your foreheads against each other, smiling like dumb idiots.

“Jay?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

merry christmas, ya filthy animal

Hi guys! This is my contribution for @hockeynetwork holiday gift exchange, it’s 2.5k of sweet Tito fluff for @dreamypeaches and I hope you all like it. As always, I read all the tags and love love hearing your feedback, so hop into my inbox and reblog if you like it! 

word count: 2.5k+

Everyone has a favorite movie. Some go for a childhood classic like Cinderella, some find an indie documentary from a film class in college, some inherit their parents’ love for the Princess Bride or Casablanca. Not you. For you, there was no movie that could hold a candle to Home Alone 2: Lost in New York. You had watched it for the first time maybe around 7 or 8 years old, and had been hooked ever since, and even Donald Trump’s five-second cameo couldn’t taint the love you had for it. But your favorite part, other than the large cheese pizza and stretch limousine, was the end. The Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center, Kevin and his mom finally reuniting after she moved heaven and earth to get back to her son by Christmas. 

It wasn’t your first Christmas in New York City, but it was the first one where it really felt like it was your city, like you belonged to it. And it was your first Christmas with Tito. You had started dating earlier in the year, just as the team was starting to make the big push for playoffs and two months or so before he left to Montréal for the summer. It was strange while he was there, not just because he was hundreds of miles away and in a whole different country, but because the two of you had only been exclusive for a few months and were set to be separated for three. You flew up for Canada Day and met his parents, and he came back for a week in August, but the interim was filled with more FaceTime calls and lonely nights than either of you would care to admit. 

But summer was long over, the leaves had fallen from all the London planes, and the temperature had started to drop below freezing even in the day. The cold weather wasn’t always great; you didn’t love having to scrape the ice off of your windshield or trudge through the slush when it was too early for the snow to stick to the ground, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. One thing that winter changed was date plans. Unless you hit it at just the right time, coffee in the morning was more prone to freeze your fingers off than warm you up, having dinner outside — normally one of your favorite things to do together — was all-but banned after November, and you could only walk around Central Park so many times. And it wasn’t for lack of trying; you knew for a fact that Anthony had spent hours on plane rides trying to figure out what was open, flipping in between Google and the weather app. He was making an effort, though, and that’s what mattered. 

Which is why you weren’t particularly surprised when he showed up at your apartment door on Christmas Eve, twelve hours after he asked you if you had plans that night. You didn’t and it wasn’t a game day, so he told you to dress warm and be ready by 8. You were waiting by the door five minutes early. He greeted you with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, closing the door behind you. “Did you already eat? I know it’s pretty late already but I think I saw a few food trucks by where we’re going if you’re still hungry.”

You nodded your head. “Anthony. It’s 8 at night. ‘Course I’ve already eaten.”

He ducked his head in embarrassment, the slightest pink appearing on his cheeks. “Should have figured.”

“It’s fine,” you said, slipping your hand into his and smiling. “You going to tell me where we’re going, though?”

“Wouldn’t be a surprise if I did,” he said. 

You should have known by the duffel bag in the backseat what his plans were, but some thirty minutes later and he was pulling into a parking lot off of West 49th, shouldering the bag and looking over to you with a grin. “What’s a Christmas in New York without ice skating at Rockefeller Center?” 

You rolled your eyes, trying desperately to keep in a laugh. “You don’t think it’s a bit unfair? You’re paid buckets of money to balance on knife shoes and the last time I went ice skating was,” you tried to remember, “two years ago? Three?” 

Tito shrugged, taking your hand as you walked out the door of the parking lot. “What’s life without a little risk?” Whether the Harry Potter quote was intentional or not, you weren’t sure. 

“Fair,” you conceded. “You’ll have to look out for me, though.” He promised he would, handing his card over to the cashier, who in turn passed you your skates. Anthony led you over to a bench, grabbing a bag of roasted chestnuts from a street vendor before sitting down. You ate a few before tying your skates, swinging one up on his thigh for inspection. “Do these past muster, inspector?”

Anthony took one look at them before undoing your knot, adjusting your foot in his lap while rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “You didn’t tie them tight enough, you could break an ankle in these, babe, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?” You shook your head; he pulled you up to a standing position, leading you over to the gate to get onto the ice. “Don’t feel bad if you’ve got to hang onto the side for a little bit, it doesn’t look like the zamboni’s been over it in awhile so the ice is probably pretty chippy.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “I’m not completely hopeless, Anthony. I’m no professional,” you half-slipped while taking your first step onto the ice, clinging to the railing, “clearly, but I’m an adult and I can handle myself.” 

He held his hands up in surrender, gliding backwards on the ice before stopping. “I know you can.” The two of you skated for about an hour before taking a break, sipping cups of piping hot apple cider while sitting on a bench off to the side of the rink. “There’s always that one person who feels the need to go in the center and show off, huh?” Tito mused, glancing towards center ice, where a woman was indeed in the middle of a spin so quick and intricate you had no clue how she didn’t throw up from the sheer centrifugal force of it all. 

“Says the professional hockey player,” you quipped. 

“I’d go insane if I tried to do anything like that,” Anthony responded, drinking the last of his cider before dropping the cup into the recycling bin. “Just about the only thing hockey players and figure skaters have in common is our ability to skate in a straight line.”

You laughed, squeezing his arm. “Have a little more faith in yourself than that, Anthony.” 

“Mhm,” he said, noncommittally like he didn’t quite believe you. “You ready to get going, or do you think you’ve got more in you?” 

You looked down at your watch; it was 9:30; the rink didn’t close for another hour and plenty of people were still milling about. “I think I’ve got a little gas left in the tank.” 

Sounds good,” he said, taking your hand and doing an extremely admirable job of not laughing at your attempts to hobble over to the ice on your skates. “One of these days I’m going to get you to go backwards,” he said as he stepped on, gliding back easily before coming to a quick stop. 

“I’ve just stopped having to hold onto your hands like a five-year-old, Beau,” you said, rolling your eyes as you took a moment to find your balance on the slippery ice. In your defense, he had been right about the lack of resurfacing on the ice; the skate attendant said the zamboni only came around once a day, shortly before opening, and the lack of smooth ice couldn’t have done you any favors. But you were determined to prove yourself, to show him and everyone else in Rockefeller Center that you were a fully grown and capable adult who could skate for a few feet without needing assistance. Which you did, for approximately two minutes, trailing ten or fifteen feet behind Anthony as he skated backwards, executing poorly-attempted jumps and spins for no reason other than your amusement. You were doing fine, until the toe pick of your skate caught in a chip in the ice and you tumbled down, down to the ice before Anthony could skate over and catch you,. Down, trying to break your fall with your hands. Pain radiated up your left wrist, the cold of the ice already beginning to melt into your jeans. 

“Oh my God,” Anthony said, kneeling in front of you as several passers-by looked over in concern. “You okay? That looked like a pretty bad fall.” 

You nodded, trying to push yourself up to a standing position, but the second you put pressure on your hand, you let out a sharp shriek. “Fuck,” you said, moving to rub your wrist. Not a good idea; the pain only got worse when you touched it. 

His brow only furrowed more. “If you put your wrist out to break the fall, you could have broken it or something. We should go to the hospital.”

You shook your head. “I’m sure it’s nothing, Tito,” you said as the two of you skated off the ice, your wrist hanging limply by your side as you bent down to try and untie the skate laces. He looked up at your face, seeing you biting your lip with tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as you tried to pull them. 

“Hurts to pull?” You knew it was no use trying to lie to him, so you nodded. He pushed the sleeve of your jacket up as gently as he could after untying your skates, handling your hand and wrist with as little pressure as he could. “Not exactly how I thought I’d be kneeling in front of you,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching. You knew he had only said it to distract you, try to get your mind off of the inordinate amounts of pain you were in, but the words still made your heart skip a beat. His fingers moved feather-light over your skin, keeping an eye on your facial expressions as he felt. “Hurts to close your hand?” You tried; you nodded. “Hurts to turn your wrist?” A second nod. “Has it gotten worse or better since you fell?”

“Worse,” you managed to squeak out. 

He bit his tongue in concentration. “Shit. Yeah, we should go to the hospital.” You knew it was no use to argue, even as you weakly kept telling him it was probably just a sprain that would heal on its own as he herded you into the car, looking up the waiting times of Manhattan emergency rooms. “The ER wait at Lenox Hill is twenty minutes, it’s like two miles away,” he said, puting the car into reverse and backing out of the parking lot. Of course, two miles in New York City on Christmas Eve really meant fifteen minutes, and by the time he parked at the hospital and you were walking into the ER, it was just past 11. And of course, an ER wait time of “twenty minutes” the day before Christmas meant that, as a relatively low-priority case, you weren’t seen for well over forty. “I feel terrible about this,” Anthony said, slumping back in the chair to the side as you sat on the exam table. 

“Not your fault,” you said emphatically. “Could have happened to anyone. Literally anyone, Tito,” you looked over at him; he still looked guilty. “It could have just as easily been you, if you’d hit the chip at the wrong angle or there was some kind of slippery patch you weren’t expecting. And,” you added as he opened his mouth, “you were too far away to catch me.” Your expression softened. “I know you would have if you could have, but I’m sure it’s not hurt too bad and I don’t want you to keep beating yourself up over it. I’ll be okay.” 

The nurse practitioner chose that moment to poke her head through the curtain, calling your name. You nodded. She flipped open your chart. “I’m Emily, I’ll be taking care of you tonight. It says here you’ve got a wrist injury?” You nodded, explaining what had happened. She pulled a pair of gloves on, fingers moving over your wrist. “With what I’m seeing and how you’re rating your pain, I think we’re probably looking at a bad sprain or a break, but we’ll have to get an X-ray to confirm.” Fifteen minutes later, you were in and out of the radiology suite, and Emily was looking at the images on a tablet. She leaned over the table, pointing to the images on the screen. “Okay, so what you’ve got is called a Colles’ fracture, it’s a break in the radius and they’re actually super common, by far the most common type of wrist break we see. Yours isn’t too bad, so I’d say it can come off in six weeks or so.” She left for a minute to get the casting supplies. Ten minutes later, your entire lower arm was covered in cotton and fiberglass wrap tape. You wiggled your fingers towards your boyfriend. “I think purple’s really my color, don’t you?” you said, nodding towards your cast. 

You saw him crack a smile, his first since the accident. “It’s beautiful, babe.” Fifteen minutes and more than your fair share of paperwork later, you had handed over your insurance information and gotten the okay to leave, with strict instructions to keep the cast dry and call if you had any problems. 

“I think this definitely wins as the most interesting date I’ve ever been on,” you said as the two of you crossed the parking lot. 

“I’ll have you agree with you on that one,” Anthony replied. “I’m glad it wasn’t anything more serious, though. I would have felt even worse.”

You nodded. “You and me both.” Anthony looked down at his watch as he held your good hand, smiling when he saw the time. “What is it?” you asked curiously. 

“Guess there was too much going on in there to keep track of time. It’s 1:37 AM.” 

The painkillers they had given you had kept the pain in your wrist to a dull ache, but all was forgotten as you realized what it meant, what it being past midnight meant, and you couldn’t stop a grin from spreading across your face. “It’s Christmas?” you said, almost like a question. Nothing could extinguish your love for the holiday: not the freezing cold air nipping at your nose or the apple cider that was so hot it burnt your tongue or the fact that you went out for a night with your boyfriend and came back with a broken wrist. You had him, and that was enough. 

Tito laughed, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your lips as he unlocked the car. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

[lakesandquarries]

Tangled Up - Chapter Two

oh, i’m gonna mess this up

Benrey’s spent 26 years living in a tower - 27, tomorrow. When a thief breaks into his tower, he finds his chance to escape and takes it.

Alternatively: Tangled, but the AI is self aware.

(featuring art by @kenas-artstuff​ )

Notes: check ao3 for warnings and tags! “kane radio” is just gordon using a fake name. fic title from “tangled up” by caro emerald, chapter title from “shots” by imagine dragons.

AO3 Link

It’s nice to be back at Black Mesa. Well, mostly nice. Gordon shuts the door behind Benrey only to immediately spot a wanted poster, the only thing making it unrecognizable a bizarre mullet. Do people seriously think he looks like that??

“Hey, Mr. Radio!” a voice calls from behind the counter. Kane rips the paper off the door, rushing across the room. 

“Hi Darnold it’s great to see you shut the fuck up please -”

And that’s when he gets grabbed from behind. He barely sees Darnold’s eyes widen before he’s spun around, now facing an absolute mountain of a man. Behind him, he hears Darnold slap something - his forehead, probably - and mutter a quiet. “oh, right.”

He loves Darnold, he really does. Being friends with someone since you were kids will do that. Right now, though, he kind of wants to throttle him.

“Kane Radio, hm?” the main holding him says, ripping the wanted poster out of his hands. The thief glances around awkwardly, his eyes finally falling onto Benrey struggling to pull his hair back into his possession. 

"H-hey, he'd appreciate his hair not being touched, guys!", Kane exclaimed, to help his partner as well as pull away from his attention. It works for a moment, as Benrey tugs the last strands of hair away and marches up to the guy holding Kane, unintimidated despite the height difference.

“Hey,” Benrey says quietly as he walks up next to the man. “Put him down? Please and thank you?”

Mountain man snorts. “Not likely. I need the reward money. Hey, you! Go get the guards!”

One of the other men nods, slipping out of the tavern as an argument breaks out. Kane is pushed and pulled, various thugs grabbing him and insisting they need the money, they deserve it most, as the bar descends into chaos.

A loud, meaty thwack! breaks up the argument. Kane’s dropped on his ass, and when he looks up, Benrey has his crowbar against Mountain man’s arm. “I said put him down.”

Kane rolls off to the side, dodging another man’s grabbing hands, and stands up so he can dart back over to Benrey and push him out of the way. “Hey, appreciate that, don’t get me wrong, but - Benrey, what the fuck?”

Behind the counter Darnold is glaring, grabbing a cup and a spoon to try and get everyone’s attention. Black Mesa housed a fighting ring once upon a time, but that got stopped when Darnold took over. It doesn’t matter now - even with Darnold yelling, everyone’s too riled up. Kane has to duck down to avoid a punch, only to immediately get kicked in the face. A hand grabs his arm and he swings instinctively, stopping at the last second when he realizes it’s just Benrey, pulling him off to the side.

“What the fuck,” Kane repeats.

“Being polite didn’t work,” is Benrey’s only explanation.

Darnold is still yelling, trying desperately to get some sense of calm as the crowd beats the shit out of each other. And then - just as quick as it started, it’s over. Screams dissolve into laughter as the assembled patrons dust themselves off, seemingly satisfied with the amount of violence they've had. 

"It's been too long since we've had a fight like that," Mountain man says. "Nice job."

Benrey blinks up at him. "Whuh?"

Gordon agrees with him. Wiping blood from his nose, he mutters a quiet “What?” as well.

“Should’ve been longer,” Darnold complains. “You know I hate this kind of behavior! I have half a mind to throw you all out.”

"We'll clean it up, Danny, don't worry,” another, very skinny guy cheerfully responds, followed by a roar of laughter.

“Darnold,” the bartender corrects sharply as he sets to cleaning the place up, picking up overturned chairs and mopping up spills and sweeping up broken glass. 

Turning back to Mountain man, Kane asks, "Just to be clear. Does this mean you won't tear me and my friend apart anymore?"

“Are you kidding? That’s the most fun I’ve had in years! Darnold never lets us do stuff like that. Real shame, considering how this place st -“

He’s cut off by someone slamming the door open. “I brought the guards!”

Apparently ten seconds of peace is the max he’s allowed. “Shit shit shit,” Kane wheezes, grabbing Benrey’s arm as Darnold directs them behind the door. The massive dog from earlier, the one who had chased him through the forest and up Benrey’s tower, is here. And it’s pissed. Kane’s heart drops as he watches it sniff around, following the trail of his footsteps.

Darnold pulls on a lever, revealing a ramp down into a stone tunnel. “You’re lucky you’re my friend,” he says as he ushers them through it. Benrey hesitates, but Kane pulls him through anyway, into some kind of cave system. The walls are dark stone, rough and natural. This is something old, and hopefully, it’ll cover them. 

He exhales slowly, adrenaline still rushing through him. “Shit,” he mutters again. “That was close.”

“Who were those guys?” Benrey asks. The raccoon on his shoulder chirps.

“Guards. Royal guards. They, uh….they don’t like me much.”

“You stole something?” 

“Big something.”

Benrey nods, apparently satisfied with the answer. The raccoon chirps again, and Benrey mumbles something in response to it. Because his day is just going so normally, he needs to listen to his weird...escort mission talk to his fucking raccoon as they run from guards.

Metal clanks behind them, and Kane picks up the pace, until he’s running down the tunnel. It opens into a cliffside, with no way down. “Fuck!”

“There’s a guy down there,” Benrey points out, and Kane bites back another string of curses when he realizes it’s fucking Forzen. He’d abandoned him after stealing the royal helmet. Betrayal’s nothing new between them, but this is recent enough that Forzen’s probably still pissed.

“That’s Forzen. He doesn’t like me much either.”

It’s then that the guards burst out of the tunnel and several things happen all at once. Benrey shoves his crowbar at Kane, and before he can question why Benrey is giving him his only weapon, he’s tossing his hair across the canyon like a grappling hook and running off the ledge.

Before he can even ask why Benrey would possibly give him his only weapon, he watches in horror as his partner takes flight. He doesn’t have time to check if Benrey’s alright - the guards are on his ass. The crowbar makes a satisfying thwack! as he swings it, taking down the guards in barely an instant. “Fuck, this is handy. Need to get me one of these!” Kane comments to himself, looking to see who’s left. One opponent remains - the dog, who is now holding a sword.

Because his day just cannot get any fucking weirder.

“You should know this is the weirdest thing I have ever fucking done!” Kane yells to Benrey, as he battles the dog, sword to crowbar, until the dog knocks it right out of his hands and down the cliff. “Two out of three?”

A lock of black hair wraps around his hand. Kane grins, giving the dog a salute as he’s pulled into a free fall. “Ha! Get fuc - hhhh.” His words dissolve into a wheeze, as his trajectory slams him into an exposed beam, knocking the wind out of him.

Kane, struggling to get a grip of himself, only just manages to hold on to Benrey while he swings down with his support. His feet connect with the water pipes, sliding down unsteadily as they collapse underneath him, and then the entire dam breaks. It happens in a flash, an enormous amount of water - it feels like the whole ocean when Kane glances back - pouring down into the valley. Rocks fall, the last of the wooden constructions collapsing. With a couple of leaps, Kane reaches an already running Benrey, and scoops up the last bit of his hair flailing behind him. "Benrey! Benrey, into the cave!" he shouts, hoping the other would get understand the general direction they have to run.

---

Benrey grabs the crowbar as he darts after Kane, barely avoiding getting crushed by the massive rock that comes crashing down and seals them into the cave. The walls are stone, not like the bricks of his tower but a random arrangement of rocks and boulders forming a lumpy wall. There’s a puddle of water on the floor, only as he looks it starts to grow, up over Benrey’s feet, his legs, creeping higher and higher. He looks around the cave frantically, spotting the trickles of water coming in past the rock that sealed them in. The only obvious opening, but the water is like another force behind it, pressing it shut like Benrey used to try and hold his door shut. The rock is stronger than him. No matter how hard he slams with his crowbar, there’s not even a dent. He turns his attention to the rest of the cave, alternately smashing and prying at the walls, but they hold firm. There’s nothing. Not a single loose rock, nothing resembling a weak point, not even a crack he can widen into an exit. 

The water’s at his waist now. His breathing sharpens, small panicked inhales as he realizes there’s no way out. They’re trapped, with water climbing higher and higher. The water is murky, making the already dim space feel smaller and darker with each second. 

Zeki was right. Kane’s gonna die here with him in this stupid fucking cave, all because Benrey wanted to see some lights.

“This is all my fault,” he mumbles, tugging on a strand of hair. “I never should’ve - she was right, this whole time, I just -“ 

Kane’s hands grip his shoulders, firm but gentle, forcing him to look at the thief’s face. "Benrey, don't blame yourself. Sometimes things go bad...that's how life works. It's - it's gonna be ok." In a different context it might be comforting. Right now, they’re about to die, and Kane’s voice is shaking.

Benrey’s voice is choked when he responds. “I’m sorry, Kane.”

"Gordon.” Benrey tilts his head, and Kane drops his hands from his shoulders with a sigh. “It's - my real name is Gordon Freeman. I made up Kane. You might as well know it now."

“Feetman?” Benrey asks with a shaky smile.

“If we weren’t trapped in a cave I’d hit you with your crowbar,” Kane - Gordon? - Gordon says. For the briefest of seconds, he smiles at Benrey. 

“I, uh. I have magic hair that glows when I sing,” he says. Keeping a secret doesn’t matter when they’re both about to die. Gordon furrows his brows, looking questioningly at Benrey, and a sudden burst of inspiration hits as he repeats himself. “I have - oh shit!” He starts singing, voice shakier than normal as he races through the song. “Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine -“ The water is still rising, and maybe it’s his imagination but it feels even faster. “Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine -”

The last line gets cut off as the water fills the cave completely. He’s never tried singing underwater before, and for a moment he’s terrified it won’t work - and then his hair lights up, a bright neon teal, illuminating the cave. Gordon swims down to the bottom, pushing aside rocks desperately. He finds one that’s loose enough, dislodging it, and the rest follow suit. The wall starts to crumble before collapsing completely, launching the two of them into a river, the current quickly sweeping them downstream and onto a grassy bank. 

Benrey drags himself out, flopping limply onto the grass, taking deep breaths as he stares up at the sky. “We’re alive,” he breathes, looking over at Gordon. He likes that name better, now that he has a spare moment to think about it. Laughter bubbles up out of him, along with bright yellow-green. Olive means I’m glad to be alive.

Beside him, Gordon is less chill, elbows on the grass and hands in his hair. “His hair glows,” he’s mumbling. “He - hhh - his hair? Glowing - glowy shit - people don’t glow!” From there his words just get more and more incoherent as he stares at the ground.

With a huff, Benrey stands up, starting to squeeze the water out of his hair. Jefferem shakes himself dry, splashing water onto Gordon. “You good?” Benrey asks.

“Am I - are you good?? What the fuck was that? How long have you been - ow, fuck -” He pulls his right hand close to himself, and when he holds it out again Benrey sees blood, bright red against the brown skin. He must’ve cut himself on a rock or something. 

Benrey offers a hand to help Gordon get up, so he doesn’t put pressure on the injured one. “Lets, uh. Find somewhere to dry off first and then we can play 20 questions?” Or, maybe, if he stalls long enough, Gordon will forget whatever he wants to ask and Benrey can keep pretending like he’s a person.

[supercalvin]

Selfishly throwing these AU prompts out there: Arthur is internet famous/model/actor/any celebrity type and painfully shy about his profession-meets Merlin and it's perfect Merthur-then Merlin accidentally finds out (news clip/article piece/photo) about Arthur and misunderstands; instead thinks Arthur is ashamed of him or something similar. OR Merlin owns/works at a shop and famous!Arthur, trying to avoid paparazzi, jumps into nearest store to hide-Merthur ensues... Either way, I adore you so!

Prompts + Ficlets

You always have such good prompts! I love it! I’m going with the first one!

***

When he first downloaded Instagram, in the first term at Camelot University, it just because everyone else seemed to have one.

A few months later, he had been contacted by some brands to work as their ambassadors. He was surprised at the salary, having no idea that he could make money by showing off a branded shirt or shiny new watch on a single Instagram post, but that hadn’t mattered to him at the time. After he had come out to his father, and he was left to defend for himself, the salary had meant a lot more to him. After uni, the sponsorships had led to model deals and the model deals had led to actual paid work in the advertising business. Seven years later he worked at a public relations firm, while still working part time as a model on Instagram.

He wasn’t famous, he kept telling his friends who seemed to think otherwise. He could walk down the street without being recognized. (That wasn’t a good gauge, they pointed out. Plenty of authors weren’t recognized but they were still famous). Oftentimes when they go down to the pub, women (and a fair amount of gay men) stop to ask him if he was ‘@pendragon.’ He would take a few photos with them all while fending off his snickering friends.

Thankfully he met Merlin far away from anyone who knew about his Instagram.

Arthur had been on a photo shoot at a hiking trail on the outskirts of Camelot, and the photographer had been an idiot who thought he knew better than anyone. He kept asking Arthur to go further out on rocks. Arthur had argued but had eventually given up when the photographer insisted.

Which was how Arthur ended up at the A&E with a sprained wrist and a dozen cuts from where he had fallen down the side of a cliff. (‘A small cliff!’ the photographer had protested, but Arthur was done talking to him.)

Merlin had been the nurse to evaluate Arthur. His purple scrubs were a size too large, his athletic shoes looked like they had seen better days, and his hair looked like a bird had nested in it all day. He was the complete opposite of what Arthur usually saw in the modeling industry, except for the fact that he had killer legs, sharp cheekbones, and long capable fingers.

Arthur may have flirted a bit too obviously, because Merlin had told him to be careful about what he said on the pain meds. Arthur remembered pouting and asking if that meant he couldn’t have the hot nurse’s number. (The pain meds had been working by that point, but to be fair, his wrist had almost broke and it hurt like hell.) Merlin had laughed, told him to rest his wrist and call his GP in a few days, and slipped him his number with a wink.

Soon enough, Arthur’s wrist had been healing up nicely and Merlin had humored him with a few coffee dates. Which had turned into dinner dates. And long weekends. Then, before Arthur really realized what had happened, they were dating.

Merlin knew that Arthur did some modeling and that was how he had hurt himself in the first place. (When Arthur first mentioned it, he wondered for a split second if Merlin would recognize him, but after a few curious questions, Merlin didn’t ask again.) It was just a job to Arthur, so he hadn’t mentioned it again.

That had been a mistake.

Merlin had asked Arthur to meet him at The Rising Sun. It was a pub nearby Camelot Uni and a lot of students frequented there. Arthur typically avoided it because he had been recognized more than once there.

But he couldn’t explain to Merlin that, without an awkward ‘humble brag’ and he didn’t want Merlin to think he was full of himself.

When they arrived, Arthur let Merlin get the drinks, hoping to stay hidden in the booth at the back of the pub. It hadn’t worked. A young man in a Camelot Uni jumper spotted him and Arthur saw the way he quickly spoke to his friends and they all tittered around their phones, looking at something and then back at him. Oh no.

Merlin was chatting with the barman. Maybe this could be quick.

The young man started toward the booth and Arthur immediately put on his Prince face (Gwaine’s term for his ‘pendragon’ facade.)

“Hi,” he said nervously. “Um, so weird question.”

“Am I Pendragon?”

Owl eyes and a small, “Shit, it is you. You’re all over my Insta feed.”

Arthur smiled and maybe he was a bit full of himself because the poor kid practically melted and Arthur felt a little proud of himself.

A cleared throat and the kid jumped to find Merlin, staring daggers at him.

“Excuse me,” Merlin set down the drinks forcefully.

“Oh, sorry,” The bloke said, looking back to Arthur, “I didn’t want to interrupt and it’s totally fine if you don’t want to, but no one is ever going to believe me. Can I…?” He awkwardly held out his phone.

Arthur nodded, still in full Prince mode. “Sure, love.”

He gestured for him to come in close and let him take a few bad-angle selfies.

“Thanks.” The bloke was as red as his Camelot jumper. “Have a good one.” He waved awkwardly and went back to his friends, probably to post the photo and tell all his uni friends. Arthur was never going to be able to come back to The Rising Sun.

“What the hell was that?” When Merlin had arrived at the table he had looked murderous, as if Arthur was flirting with someone else on their date, but now he just looked befuddled.

Arthur had hoped that when Merlin found out, it would be when Arthur wasn’t with him. He imagined that someone would mention ‘pendragon’ and Merlin would do some internet searching. This was so much worse.

Arthur sipped his beer, “Just, um. Work stuff. You know.”

“Work stuff,” Merlin deadpanned.

Arthur hung his head, defeated. He pulled out his phone and opened Instagram. Merlin blinked at the phone for a few seconds. “What? So it’s your model stuff, I don’t…Wait, holy shit you have how many followers?” Merlin’s voice raised an octave and Arthur had to shush him.

“You’re famous!” Merlin scrolled through the posts, “This is you and that one guy from Top Model!” Merlin’s eyes were quickly turning just as wide as the student’s had.

“We just did one shoot, it’s not that big a deal,” Arthur muttered, trying to take back his phone but Merlin wasn’t having any of it.

“Oh my god, here I was thinking I’d already tricked a model into dating me, but now you’re a famous model.” Merlin tugged at his hair.

“You didn’t trick me, I asked you out,” Arthur snatched back his phone, feeling insulted for Merlin.

“You were high on pain meds!” Merlin protested.

“I’m not now,” Arthur slid closer to Merlin in the curved booth, hooking a finger into Merlin’s belt loop and tugging. “And you’re not half bad yourself, Emrys.”

Merlin’s cheeks turned a light pink and his eyes were glued to Arthur’s lips. Arthur couldn’t help but feel that pride swell in his chest, but this time tenfold.

Merlin lightly pushed at his chest, “You’re a flirt.”

Arthur smiled, kissing Merlin lightly, “Maybe so.”

***

Prompts + Ficlets

[nyxdelanuit]

Champagne and Drive-Thrus (Kuroo x Reader)

Here’s another one for my 500 follower event! I’ve been so slow at getting these, out, I’m so sorry :c Good news, we’re almost at 900 now! 

Tw: Drunken mistakes lol

You disliked many things about work trips: jet lag, stuffy boardroom meetings, traveling to different places only to have a full schedule, and only getting a glimpse of the things you wanted to do. However, you always liked it when you were paired with Kuroo for these trips. The two of you were an unstoppable duo, always crushing the meetings and leaving both of you with ample downtime. He sure knew how to spend it too, bringing out a side of you that you thought died out in college.

 Sure, that occasionally ended with you falling into his bed, but he was a very fun bed mate. There was really little you could complain about. That was until Kuroo asked you for a date. Not a few drinks after work, or two colleagues grabbing lunch, a date. He was fun, and you really liked what you had going, but you didn’t do feelings. Not when you had so much to do, not when you couldn’t be sure that it wouldn’t ruin everything.

That didn't stop the two of you from taking all the pleasures that Las Vegas could give you. After a few months of keeping your distance, you missed him, and he was quick to play on your longing to return to normalcy and the complementary offerings that came with a room at one of the big hotels. It started out with Kuroo suggesting that you join him in playing the slots, a bonus from a job well done sitting heavily in your pockets. From there, it escalated to blackjack and drinks, so many drinks. Kuroo gave up on gambling a few drinks in, dragging you to the clubs to dance.

 You had never been so close, even the nights you spent tangled in his sheets. It was different when a sea of bodies pushed the two of you ever closer, and the alcohol coursing through your system only made his hands feel hotter as they trailed over any skin that peeked through. Even here, as packed as it was, drinks came fast and hard. The night turned into a blur, memories of giggles and hands straying into clothes.

 The morning light brought with it an inescapable headache. The smell of liquor sat thickly on your skin, only worsening the pounding in your head. A shower would be first on your list, followed closely by a breakfast of your favorite hangover cures. That was the plan until the heavy arm over your stomach refused to let you budge. You followed the skin up to Kuroo's face, almost angelic in the diffused light. You shouldn't be surprised; it was always a possibility when you went along with his whims.

 What was a surprise was the light reflecting off of the band on Kuroo's finger. Had he gotten married while you were keeping your distance? No, you would have noticed sooner. You went to remove his hand from you, only to spot the matching band on your finger. The desert heat could not warm the chill that ran through your veins as you jumped out of bed, startling Kuroo into consciousness.

 “What’s wrong?” His groggy voice and messy hair didn’t match your rising anxiety, but his eyes sharpened when you started to nervously giggle.

 “Kuroo, please tell me we went out and bought matching rings as some sort of drunken prank?” Kuroo sat up, running his hands through his bedhead before examining the ring on his finger like it would come alive and speak if he just looked hard enough.

 “Walk me through last night. Maybe we’ll remember something.” You paced around the room, grabbing Kuroo’s shirt to cover yourself as he stayed seated on the bed.

 “You drug me out to play slots, which didn’t last long. We played a few rounds of blackjack, got some drinks.” He nodded along, both of you relatively sober by that part of the night. “Then you decided we should go out clubbing.”

 “And we both got a bit out of hand with the drinks, if my head is any indication.” He chuckled, causing you to throw him a glare. He put his hands up in resignation while you urged your memory to return. “You were having so much fun dancing with me, all drunk and giggly.” You felt the heat creep to your cheeks at the dreamy tone in Kuroo’s voice, but you did remember the embarrassing way you clung to Kuroo as you left the club.

 “We got a cab back here. How did we end up with rings then?” Kuroo cleared his throat, averting his eyes as you looked to him. “What?”

 “I remember.” He mumbled.

 “What?”

 "I remember. We passed one of those cheesy drive-thru chapels, and I made a joke about how we should go through." You shot him an evil stare, and he scratched at his neck. "Hey, it was a joke! You were the one who decided we should go through! Turns out, you need to schedule an appointment for the drive-thru, but you were adamant… you know I've got a weak spot for you. It's even worse when I'm drunk, I guess. So we went in, picked the bands, paid a pretty cheap amount for the ceremony, and a bouquet that I'm pretty sure you tossed out of the limo on the Strip." You could feel your headache growing as he spoke and swore to yourself that you would never drink with him again.

 Kuroo finally stood to rummage through some papers on the dresser, walking unabashedly naked to you. In his hand was a paper-framed picture of Kuroo holding you bridal-style while you waved around a gaudy bouquet in the air. The photographic evidence wasn't what stole your breath away; it was the look shared between you and Kuroo.

 You looked every part of the newlywed couple, eyes locked on each other adoringly in love. You fought the butterflies in your stomach as he showed you a copy of your marriage certificate. In a moment, it was all too real.

 "Okay, we need to call the chapel and the registrar's office. Hopefully, they haven't processed the paperwork yet. If they have, we can request an annulment." Your head was working faster than your lips, and when you reached for your phone, your hands were shaking.

 "Maybe we just leave it?" You whipped around to Kuroo, who had seated himself back on the bed, observing you.

 “Kuroo.”

 “I think you can call me Tetsurou, you know since you’re technically also Kuroo now?” You just barely reigned in the urge to chuck your phone at his head as he smirked at you.

 “What is your problem? You’re acting like you wanted this!” You hadn’t meant to raise your voice at him.

 “Maybe I did!” For the first time that morning, you stopped moving. “Not like this, but what’s so wrong with me being happy about marrying you?” A lesser man would look away, but not him. His eyes were glued to yours. “I don’t know what you’re so scared of, but we’ve been dancing around this for years. You haven’t been in a relationship for as long as I’ve known you. Hell, you don’t even hook up much, save for me. As far as I’ve seen, I’m the constant in your life. And I love you. I think you love me too.” He took a deep breath, breaking from the sharp edge he had. Tears had gathered in your eyes, and he approached you like a stray cat, slowly and unthreatening until you were wrapped in his arms. A broken sob escaped from your chest, and he hushed you as he moved to lay on the bed with you.

 "We've got two options. We cancel our flights for later today. Stay here for what, another week, until we can get everything annulled. Or, we can get on our flight, not miss any work, and try it out. It would take a few months for the paperwork to transfer over anyways. If things don't go well, we can pretend it never happened. We can quietly get it annulled at home and go our separate ways. If not, we leave it be. We can find a nice place and move in together. Have an actual ceremony with our friends and family." The hands dragging through your hair helped calm you down and see the logic in his words.

 “I really do believe that you wouldn’t have gone through with it if some part of you didn’t think this is what you wanted.” He tilted you face up to meet his in a chaste kiss, something more tender than the two of you had ever shared. “And I meant it when I said I wanted it.” You nodded, suddenly exhausted from all the emotions of the morning.

 “O-okay.” You relented, taking some small joy in the way Kuroo’s face lit up as you did.

 "Alright, Mrs. Kuroo, let's get you cleaned up, and I'll order us some breakfast. I'll make it special for our honeymoon." You swatted his arm, the ghost of a smile on your face.

 "Don't push your luck." You threatened but got up anyway. You paused in the doorway and looked back at Kuroo, now tangled in the blankets. He stared at the ring on his hand with a grin on his face, and you could see the shine of tears pooling in his eyes.

 Maybe you’d like being Mrs. Kuroo after all.

TAGLIST: @say-my-name-assbut​ @animefandomally​ @rocorambles​ @super-haikyuu-hotline​ @gokm1023​ @cornchipsanddip​ @verdandi24-blog​ @dadchis-girl​ @moonsaye​ @beatific-drabbles​ 

[plethora-of-imagines]

Precious Present

AN: Boxing Day is still Christmas right? Here is another of the Christmassy/winter fic ideas that I thought of this year. I may not have gotten them all out before Christmas but I’m not going to let that stop me! This one uses one of my favorite tropes too.

Word Count: 1977

Warnings: smut/lemon, bondage, cockwarming

Description: You give the Master a present.

Tag List: @c-s-stars @queerconfusionthings @how-masterful @truthbehindthemysteries

You fidgeted and squirmed, unable to significantly move with the way you had bound yourself up. You hadn't thought that the Master would be so long. Then again he had no idea you were even waiting for him. You hopped he entered the room soon otherwise all he would get to do with his unwrapped present would be aftercare. He was very firm about how long you were allowed to be bound and you were quickly approaching that time limit. 

You had wanted to surprise him with your efforts to learn how to properly and safely tie yourself up in bondage. Especially the tricky slip knots that you had worked to learn. It had taken you almost an hour to completely tie yourself up in matte red ribbon. The smooth as silk ribbons laying flat against your skin in crisscrossed patterns. Accentuating your breasts and the rest of your bare skin. Ribbons tightly bound your thighs to your calves, keeping your legs bent. You had filled yourself with a generously lubed dildo and lit candles around yourself on the floor before starting the tricky task of securing your hands behind your back.

You had been waiting for the Master to find you for long enough that the candles were almost burnt out. To be fair they had already been well-used candles. All soft and subtle winter scents that the Master was partial to from his travels. He had given them to you as a present knowing that you adored burning candles. You had gotten a fair bit of use out of them and had figured that they would help set the scene well for him to stumble upon you all wrapped up as a gift for him. The low levels of light would hopefully hide any imperfections in your work when he first saw you. 

You were a little worried that he wouldn’t realize what your intentions were and would instead think you had been practicing and gotten stuck. That would result in a lengthy lecture on proper self-bondage safety. The large bow- almost as large as your head- that you had pinned to your hair would hopefully get your meaning across before he could start to get the wrong idea. And if it didn’t there was also the handwritten tag looped through the ribbon circling your throat to help.

You started to drift off as you waited for either the Master to enter the room or your preset alarm to go off. You would be deeply disappointed if the alarm went off and you had to free yourself, but you didn’t want to hurt yourself either. Your head shot up when you heard the door creaking open. The Master was here! Looking up to see him illuminated by the light from the hallway. A soft smile reached your eyes as you took in the sight of him.

"Is this bondage safe?"

You tried to resist pouting that these were his first words upon seeing you. He would take it as an admission of dangerous actions, and not of disappointment. It was sweet that he cared so much but you had hoped to inspire words of lust. It almost seemed like he wasn’t affected by the sight of you naked and tied up at all.

"Check my arms, Master. They should be tied so that one pull can free them. It took a few hours of practice but I believe I got it correct this time!"

He kneeled down to look at the knots and layered ribbons you had done. You shivered as the cold leather of his gloves gently examined the knots and ribbons more closely. Careful not to tug, less he untie you already.

Hands dropping down to his side he offered soft praise of your work.

"You did a wonderful job, my dear. Your practice has certainly made perfect."

"Thank you, Master!" Eagerly you accepted the scrap of praise.

The Master seemed to consider removing his gloves for a moment before deciding to keep them on while he appreciated the work you had done. Gently his gloved hands trailed across your skin, appreciating the decorative ribbons binding you as a pretty package. Cupping your breasts lightly in his hands.

Lifting the tag tied around your throat with care, he read it aloud.

"To a loving Master, from his dearest love. What a sweet sentiment, my dearest. A precious present such as yourself all for me."

You shivered at his voice, the trill and purr in his words. His voice was always so seductive, so enticing. His hands wandered lower, spreading the ribbons to reveal your cunt. His fingers explored, seemingly intent on entering you before they discovered that you were already filled with a dildo.

“And it appears that your, ahem, ‘stocking has been stuffed’ already so to speak, my dear.”

You squirmed uncomfortably at the phrase. It just sounded so, wrong. Your squirming made you feel the small stretch of the dildo even more as you shifted in just the right way to press the dildo into your vagina’s walls. 

“Please never say that again, Master.”

“So you don’t want to be stuffed full with my cock?” He teased. “Strange, normally you would be eager to have my cock stuffed deep inside of you so you could cockwarm for hours.”

You blushed despite the fact that your compromising position all tied up should leave you with no embarrassment left to be had.

“You're purposely misinterpreting me, Master!” You whined childishly.

“I know, my darling. But how can I be expected to resist teasing you while you are all tied up and can do nothing but squirm in retaliation? Besides, my precious present, the gift giver has no say in what the recipient of the gift does with it. I can tease you until you are as red as the ribbons you used if I so chose.”

He laughed at your face as he scrunched your lips together with his grip on your chin. Releasing your face to brush your hair behind your ear as he admired the sight of you again.

“The bow on your head is a lovely touch. I admit I’m tempted to keep it on you forever to remind the people of the universe that you are a gift from whatever higher powers religious people believe formed the universe.”

You blushed further at his compliment. Smiling shyly at him.

A quick kiss was pressed to the corner of your mouth. Instinctively you leaned forward to follow his lip in hopes of receiving a real kiss. One that fully covered your lips with his own.

You had somehow managed to forget how tied up you were... Your body fell forward as you squeaked in surprise. Landing face first in the Master's lap. With ease, the Master maneuvered you so that you were laying in his lap more comfortably, and much less suffocatingly. Your legs up in the air- still secured thigh to calf.

"What's this?" The Master questioned in a reprimanding tone as he looked closer at the base of the dildo. "Is my precious present guilty of using up some batteries while waiting for me to open her?"

"No! Of course not, Master," you quickly protested. "The dildo is in to prepare me for you so that you can use your present right away if you wish to. The batteries are included for your enjoyment of me, if you wish to use them at all that is."

His hands quickly flicked the vibrator on to full power. You violently twitched at the unexpectedly strong sensations. A loud moan passing through your tightly closed lips.

All at once, the candles went out and the subtle smell of smoke filled the air. 

"Well now, it seems like the perfect time to bring my gift to a much more appropriate location to unwrap."

The Master lifted you into his arms as he stood. Holding you to his side, arms supporting your arse and back. Normally when carried like this you would wrap your arms and legs around him like a child. As tightly bound as you were- that wasn't possible. You were reliant on the Master holding you to keep you from falling. He would never let you fall from his grasp so you had little to worry about. Even so, you still thought about how much trust it showed to let him carry you like this.

Gently placing you on the bed, the Master moved to untie you. Smoothly he unbound your arms from each other. Taking the ribbons still wrapped around your arms and securing them to the side of the bed. The little hooks that were hidden on the bed frame just for this sort of purpose finally being used. Your legs were done next. Faster than you could process the ribbons no longer secured your thighs to your calves. Pushing the ribbons up to your thighs the Master secured them to the same hooks as the others. Leaving your arms and legs spread.

The vibrator was turned off but you didn't so much as murmur in disappointment. You knew that soon you would feel much better than the vibrator had made you feel. 

Hands held your face with reverence. Lips softly meeting yours in a gentle kiss. You sighed in pleasure. Eyes taking in the breathtaking image of the Master hovering above you. The Christmas lights you had begged him to put up around the bed throwing their light onto his body. There was something about the particular glow of Christmas lights that were softer, kinder than other lights. 

"I believe I can understand the appeal of seeing presents underneath a tree now," he softly remarked as he lovingly looked down at you.

"Glad I could persuade you."

He kissed down your skin from your forehead to between your thighs. Biting the tip of his gloves and pulling them off with his teeth as you watched. Your breath hitched as his fingers walked up your thighs to the dildo pressed deep inside of you. Achingly slow he pulled the dildo out of you. You could feel your arousal leaking out when the dildo was completely removed.

You sighed, content as he undressed. A soft ringing interrupting him. He looked at you questioning if you knew the reason for the alarm.

"It was my alarm for the time limit of being bound like I was before," you explained.

"Good girl," he purred. "Make sure to stretch some now, you should have enough slack to properly stretch your limbs."

"Yes, Master."

He finished undressing before he began to unwrap the ribbons around you. Shushing you as you began to protest.

"I'm unwrapping my gift now, my dear. It’s my choice to do so regardless of the alarm."

As the ribbons fell from your body, the Master admired you anew. He seemed slightly disappointed to have to remove the gift tag from your neck. But he smiled mischievously as he tied it to the giant bow still on your head. Chuckling at his antics you knew that it would be a few days before he allowed you to take off the bow. Not that you minded at all.

The Master's hands rubbed circles into your skin anywhere it seemed the ribbons had dug into your skin. Once he had given your body a once over he slowly slid his cock into you. There was still a small amount of stretch that your preparations had not fully prepared you for. Still, it felt nice to feel the Master deep inside of you.

Leaning close he seductively whispered in your ear, voice filled with kind humor, "the cockwarmer you got me is the perfect size, my dear. I'll have to make sure to use it often."

You giggled in amusement. Giddy to have so pleasantly surprised him.

“Of course, Master. Any time you want.”

[falcqns]

an apostles redemption

Pairing: August Walker x OFC (Grace Walker)

Warnings: fluff, swearing, family angst, mention of nuclear weapons and firearms, facial injury, mention of anxiety disorder and anxiety attacks, implied smut

A/N: hope you enjoy!

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three |

Trust To Be Gained

A few hours later, as August was sleeping soundly in bed, Grace decided to give her family a call.

She hadn't spoken to her sister in two years, and she hadn't been to see her mom in a few months. She usually went and visited when August was on a mission, but she didn't go on his last one, at his request, which she understood why now. If she hadn't been home when she found out about Kashmir, she wouldn't have returned to Washington, which he wanted her to do.

Her hands shook as she pressed the call button, and held the phone up to her ear. It rang a few times, before she heard her mom's voice.

"Gracie! Where've you been sweetie? You haven't answered us in a while," Her mom began.

Grace took a deep breath, but explained. "I was going to call yesterday morning, but I forgot. August is alive, and here with me." She began, before her mother cut her off.

"Alive? How? He took a metal hook to the head!" Her mom exclaimed.

"He was hit with the hook, but it bounced off his face. He has a big burn on the side of his face, but he's recovering. He's starting to look a lot better," She explained. Her eyes fell on 'What We Owe To Each Other,' which was on the kitchen counter, where August had left it. "He's also going to be working to be a better person, and gain everyones trust back, including our family's."

"Do you trust him?" Her mom asked in a serious tone.

Grace sighed, and felt her eyes watering. "It's getting there. He seems sorry, and has been very emotional the past few days, and has done everything I've asked him to. I mean, I love him, and I want to help him," She said, a stray tear falling down her right cheek.

Her mother heard the emotion in her youngest daughter's voice and reassured her. "That's exactly what he needs right now. Your love. We both know that he loves you with his whole being, and will do anything to make sure you are safe and happy. He's going to be okay, you know that right?"

"Yeah, I do." She whispered, more tears spilling.

"Why don't you two come and stay for a few days. Julia is here, and she misses you so so much. I'd like to see you again too, baby. I think it would be good for the two of you, to get out of Washington," Her mom mentioned.

"I agree. I'll let Sloane know and we'll head out tomorrow," She said.

"Okay, good. I can't wait to see you," Her mom whispered, emotion present in her voice as well.

"Me too. Don't tell Julia though, I want to surprise her." She said, and she heard her mom giggle.

"Okay, love. Have a good night, and let me know when you're on your way, okay? I love you."

"I love you too, goodnight," She said, before hanging up.

She made a quick call to Sloane who agreed that family time would be best right now, and gave her permission to take him out of state.

She placed her phone and made the journey back up the stairs. Just as she made it to the top, the door to the bedroom opened, and a black wall came at her face. She quickly realized it was August reaching out to hug her.

"Oh, thank god," He whispered in her ear. She felt a small tear land on her shoulder.

"What's wrong, Auggie baby?" She said in a gentle tone.

"I woke up and you weren't in the bed or the bathroom and I got so scared. I thought you left or someone took you," He said, as his breathing slowed the longer he held her.

"No ones going to take me away from you baby, and I won't leave." she whispered in his ear, running her right hand up and down his spine, her other hand coming to rest on his hip. He nodded, and allowed Grace to lead him back to the bed. He laid down on his back, and pulled Grace into him, so her upper body was on his. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and smiled at her when she looked him in the eyes.

Grace reached her hand out and placed it on his jaw, rubbing her thumb along his stubble that disappeared into his scar.

"We're going to Virginia tomorrow," She whispered.

"Why? To see your mom?" He asked.

Grace nodded. "She misses me, and she misses you. She's not mad at you. Julia will be there too and she's not mad either." She reassured him.

August nodded, and pressed a kiss into her palm, before he wrapped his arms tighter around Grace, and they drifted off asleep.

The next morning, the couple woke up early, and packed for their trip. Grace packed her stuff, as well as Kal's, while August packed his, and emptied to fridge of anything that would go bad over the trip, and took it to the road. They both made coffee, and were on the road by 6:30 am, and headed to Virginia.

The trip was going to take 3 hours, and August wasn't planning on talking too much, instead allowing Grace to sleep. But as soon as they were out of their neighbourhood, Grace connected her phone to the car's speaker and began to play Babylon by 5SOS, which was one of August's favourite songs.

They continued to sing along to some of their favourite songs, and eventually put on a podcast when they hit the highway, so August didn't get too distracted. Grace eventually drifted off, as did Kal, who was spread out on the backseat of August's Tesla.

August continued to drive, until he felt his stomach rumble, and his car told him it needed a charge. He saw a sign for a charging station in a Cracker Barrel parking lot, and headed towards the exit. Grace was awoken by the sudden change in direction.

"Where are we going?" She asked, groggily. August smiled, and placed his right hand on her left thigh, his thumb rubbing the soft skin through her sweatpants.

"The car needs a charge, and I'm hungry, as I'm sure you are. The charging station is in a Cracker Barrel parking lot, so I'm thinking we go there for lunch." Grace smiled at him.

"I agree, wholeheartedly. I want some friggen biscuits." She said, which made August chuckle.

They pulled off into the parking lot, and got out. August turned the car into Pet Mode, and plugged it in. Kal was still sleeping, so he didn't even notice his mom and dad leaving.

They were quickly seated in the dining area, and began to look over the breakfast menu.

"I know what you'll be having, Auggie," She said. "Old Timer's Breakfast," Grace continued, and she descended into a fit of giggles. However, she didn't notice August throwing a balled up napkin at her head, which hit her square in the forehead.

"Hey! Rude!" She exclaimed with a huge smile on her face, while August had his head on the table, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

He lifted his head, which has a smile and a twinkle in his blue orbs. "You shouldn't have called me old then, love."

Grace shook her head, and continued to look at the menu.

Grace decided to have French Toast and biscuits on the side, while August decided to go with his wife's suggestion, The Old Timers Breakfast, with an extra order of biscuits, knowing Grace would probably eat his as well. Man, that girl loved biscuits.

Their food came shortly after, as they were one of the four couples in the restaurant. They didn't speak that much while they ate, August only looking up to glance at his wife, who was dancing slightly while she was eating, a tell tale sign that she was thoroughly enjoying her food.

They finished up, and headed back to the car, which was fully charged. Kal, who had not awoken the entire time, was startled when August opened the door, climbed in, and pressed the unlock button for Grace. Kal barked at his mom until she gave him some ear scratches, at which point he decided to crawl into the front seat to sit at Grace's feet.

"Kal! What are you doing buddy?" August said, leaning his head to the side to avoid contact with the dogs rear end. Grace, however, was laughing and helped the large Akita to where he wanted to go.

Once Kal was settled, August pulled the car out of the parking lot, and they continued to make their journey to Virginia. They still had an hour and a half to go, so Grace put on another podcast, but didn't drift off.

They had a conversation about how things were going to go in Virginia. Grace knew if she trusted August, so would her mom, so she didn't have to worry, but Julia (and most likely Erik) would be a different story. Julia would need time to warm up to him and trust him again, which both Grace and August understood, and were okay with.

Kal eventually drifted off once again, so August and Grace kept their voices down on order to not wake him.

Not that much longer passed, until August was pulling into Grace's childhood home. He had been here a few times before, when he was dating Grace, but hadn't been in a few months.

Grace noticed he was nervous, and reached out for his hand, which he gladly gave.

"It's gonna be okay, love." She whispered, and he nodded, before opening the door. He headed to the trunk to grab the bags, so Grace led Kal inside, and journeyed to the kitchen to find her mother, who was making lunch for everyone.

"Hi, mama," She said, and walked over to give her mom a hug.

"Hello angel,"Her mom said, hugging her daughter tight to her chest. "Where's August?" She asked, but her question was answered when August walked into the kitchen holding their bags. Her mom smiled, and they hugged as well.

"Wheres Julia?" Grace asked her mother.

"She's in her old room. Erik isn't here though, he went for a job interview." She said, and the three of them headed out of the kitchen. "Why don't you guys go get settled, I'm going to finish lunch, I just have to go and grab some stuff I forgot, okay?"

The couple nodded and headed up the first set of stairs, and into Graces room.

It wasn't overly large, about half the size of her and Augusts bedroom, but it was still a good size.  Grace had a queen bed that was in the middle of the room, with white bedding, and light pink and grey pillows. The light pink and grey theme continued throughout her whole room. Her walls were a eggshell white, and the baseboards were grey. her desk sat in the corner of the room, with a large hutch sitting on top. She had minimal wall decor, only her high school diploma and a few awards she won during school, which she assumed her mom hung up after she moved out, 2 years prior.

"Why don't I unpack, and you can go see Julia?" August suggested, while he sat the bags down, and walked over to Grace to wrap his arms around her. She smiled up at him, and pressed a small kiss to his lips.

"Okay," She said, before heading out of the bedroom, and up another flight of stairs to Julia's room. She knocked on the door, and heard a faint "Come In!" from Julia. She took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Julia was facing away from her, putting some washing into her dresser. When she heard the door open, she started to turn around.

"I could have come down Mo-," She began, but stopped when she saw that it wasn't her mom, but Grace standing there. "Gracie?" She whispered, as her eyes started to tear up.

"Hi, Jules." Grace said back, her tears forming as well. Julia dropped her shirt that she had been folding on the ground and ran over to her little sister, wrapping her up in her arms.

"Oh my god. I've missed you so much baby." Julia whispered in her ear.

Grace sniffled before talking. "I missed you too. Thank you for the package."

Julia released her, and led her over to sit together on the bed.

"Did Ethan get the postcard okay?" she asked, and ran her fingers through Grace's hair. Grace nodded.

"He said that he hopes you're doing okay after what happened, and that you're safe," She said. Julia smiled, and wrapped her arms around her little sister again.

"Did Mom tell you what we talked about on the phone yesterday?" Grace asked. Julia nodded.

"All she said was that August was alive and at home with you. I was a little worried and almost drove to Washington to make sure you were okay and safe, but Mom convinced me not to, which I now understand why," Julia said, her hand never leaving Grace's hair. Grace smiled at her.

"He's doing better. His face is healing, and he's working on gaining trust back. He'll start working with Sloane and the IMF to redeem himself but Sloane agreed that some family time would be good for him right now. I'm hoping to convince him to talk to his mom and let her know he's okay, but I haven't asked yet." She said. Julia smiled at her.

"I'm glad he's getting better. He tried to convince me to go with him, but I didn't know why, so I didn't go. It sounds like it wouldn't have been good if I did. What exactly happened?"

Grace smiled. "Auggie was in one helicopter, and Ethan was in another. Ethan was trying to get his helicopter out of the sky, and they ended up colliding. They fell into a crevice in the mountains, Ethan's helicopter fell, and hit Auggie's a few times. On the second time, a tube came out of the helicopter and sprayed Auggie in the side of the face with helicopter fuel. Then the helicopters fell out of the crevice, and dropped them on a cliff. They fought a little, and both ended going over the side, but were saved by a hook which was attached to one of the helicopters. Eventually they both climbed off of it and Ethan tugged on it, which caused it to come off the mountain and the hook hit Auggie in the forehead. It bounced off, but the force of the impact caused Auggie to fall backwards and he went tumbling down the mountain. He then told me that he ended up by the river, so he cleaned his face. He hid in a cave for a while, until he remembered that the Apostles had a safe house a few miles away, so he made his way over there, and attempted to sew up his face. The Apostles got him back into the country and back to me. He has since cut off all contact with them." She finished, and Julia's eyes were wide.

"How did he do on the stitches?" Julia asked with a smile on her face.

Grace giggled. "They were bad. I replaced them, but I'm kind of hoping you can look at them, since you're the nurse," Grace said.

Julia nodded. "Of course I will. Is he in your room?" She asked, and Grace nodded, before she led her to where August was. They found August in Grace's bedroom, on the floor, wrestling with Kal.

He looked up when the sisters walked in the room, and smiled apprehensively at Julia, who gave him warm smile back. He stood up, and sat on the bed at Grace's instruction.

"Julia's just going to check your injuries." Grace said, and peeled the bandage off.

Julia moved to inspect them. "They look good, really good actually," Julia said, reaching her hand out to give Grace a high five. She moved to inspect his burn. "His burn is looking better, but its going to be a long healing process. He may need burn treatment at a hospital but I think he'll be find without it. You'll have a scar, but it will be barely noticeable. Does it hurt at all?"

August nodded. "usually only when water hits it, or I touch it too much." He said.

"I've been putting burn cream on it to help with his pain. It tends to look a little red and angry in the morning but is fine once the cream is on it." Grace interjected, and pulled the cream out of the half empty bag on the bed. Julia took it and inspected it.

"This will definitely help with the pain, but I'd take him to a doctor to get a prescription cream, just to be on the safe side," Julia said, and reapplied the bandage onto August's forehead.

August nodded. "Thank you," He said, giving Julia a warm smile. "I also want to apologize for everything that happened,' He said quietly, not meeting Julia's eyes.

Grace and Julia shared a look, and Grace knew she wanted to speak to him in peace, so Grace left them, and headed down stairs to wait for her mom.

Julia took a seat on the bed. "I forgive you for what happened August. I may not know everything about you, and maybe it was because I never got the chance to know you well, but I want to." August smiled, his eyes still fixed on his sock covered feet.

"I'm very protective of Grace. I was 24 when she was born, and even though she wasn't my child, she felt like it. Our mom worked very hard to raise her after our dad died, and Rick and I were the only ones still living at home, so we would take over the role of parenting when Mom was working long shifts. When I found out she was dating you, I became scared." Julia whispered, and August finally looked up from his feet to meet her gaze. "When Ethan and I were together, he had told me about who you were, and what you did. He told me that everyone called you 'The Hammer', and you didn't take crap from anyone. Obviously, he didn't know you well, so I only got one side of the story."

August smiled small. "I love her with all my heart. I have since the moment I met her. I don't know what it was, but, when I saw her walk into the same elevator as me, it hit me like a ton of bricks. All I could think of was how beautiful she was, and how much I wanted to get to know her. I knew in that moment that I was so in love with her, and I barely knew her. I knew from our first date that she was going to be the one I marry, which is why I proposed so quick, and why we got married so quick. I wanted to protect her, and love her." He said, his voice breaking at the end, a stray tear falling from his eye. "I don't deserve her. She deserves so much more than me, but I thank God everyday that she loves me. When I came home from Kashmir and asked her to help me, she did without a second thought. She's held me every time I've woken up crying, every time I have an anxiety attack, and she's helping me to be better. I love her so much, and I want you to know I would never do anything to hurt her, I promise." He finished, looking up at Julia, who wrapped her arms around him.

"I see that now. I saw the way your eyes lit up with love when you saw her walk into the room, and how you kept looking at her for reassurance. Mom has told me stories of how her mental health wasn't the greatest a few months ago, so you dropped everything and took her to Disney World. She told me how you bring her little gifts from everywhere you go, and you gave her a burner phone so she can contact you on missions. I see it now, and I'm sorry that I didn't see that before. I hate that I missed out on so much of her marriage. I missed out on her engagement party, I missed the wedding, I missed everything. All because of my view of you." Julia said.

August smiled. "I plan on proposing again, so she can have the proper wedding she's always wanted, I just don't know when."

Julia immediately wrapped her arms around him. "I may not fully trust you yet, but I trust you with her. I trust that you won't hurt her." August smiled, and hugged her back, before Grace was calling them down for lunch. Julia immediately left the room, August following not far behind.

"Hey baby," Grace said, and pulled his face down for a kiss. August smiled.

"Hey angel," He responded, pressed another gentle kiss to her lips. Grace's arms went from his shoulders to his waist, and her mouth deepened the kiss. August's right hand came up to caress her face while the left settled on her waist, pulled her flush against him, and let out a breathless moan at the feeling of his wife pressed into him.

"Hey! When y'all are done eating each others faces, come and get lunch!" They heard a male voice shout. They immediately separated, and laughed when they saw that it was Rick, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, that faced the hallway.

"Hey Rick," August said, before following his wife into the kitchen.

"Hey, August! I thought you were dead, bro - HEY!" He exclaimed at Grace's fist coming into contact rather hard with his stomach.

[littledrummeraussie]

pick you up if you fall to pieces.

Word count: 1700+ Author’s Note: This has been sitting in my folder for 2 days. Just a short quick comfort story for the heartbroken hero.

masterlist.

Ashton’s been on edge for days now and you couldn’t blame him for it. The numbers just weren’t right, and everyone knew it, yet it seemed like nobody really cared. It started just before the album came out with a shipment error and thousands of copies being sent out to their fans. If the whole pandemic wasn’t enough, the guys also needed to somehow save the album they’ve been working on for the last two years. For the first week it seemed like things will work out, they’ve been promoting CALM from the safety of their own homes, doing livestreams and Zoom calls, singing, dancing and making fun of each other and themselves for hours.

But then you saw Ashton getting phone calls, and one after the other made him more anxious and grumpy, making him lose his good mood that he had after the first successful numbers came in. He was frowning as he disappeared in his office for hours, deep in conversation with his friends about what they could do to work out the situation. It was clear that no one really could do anything about the uncounted copies, even though both them and their fans and friends were fighting tooth and nail to make their chart position move up to #1.

He was still scooped up in his office when your phone pinged next to you on the counter, signalling a new tweet – from Ashton himself. You weren’t sure if you wanted to check it or go and knock on his door instead, finding out for yourself what he had in mind after hours of brainstorming with the guys. But before you could make the decision, he appeared in the kitchen, hair messy and eyes tired, a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Ash took a water bottle out of the fridge, gulping down every last drop in one go, then leaned over the other side of the counter, arms crossed in front of him, forehead resting on them as he sighed heavily. You knew he had a lot on his mind, and you were ready to listen to him – but only if he was ready to talk. When another minute passed and he still did not look up you reached over to lightly squeeze his hand. His gaze was still fixed on the countertop, but he opened his fist and let you lace your fingers together.

”Was I too much?” he asked quietly as you rubbed your thumb over the skin of his hand. ”Or maybe it wasn’t enough… I should have said something else…”

”I don’t know, Ash,” you shook your head, and that made him look up, eyes wide and questioning. ”I did not see it. I don’t know what you’ve done.”

”The video?” he frowned, and you shrugged a little. ”The one I posted…”

”I can watch it, that’s fine. But I’ve thought you could tell me instead. I know it doesn’t change the facts, but… at least it’s not a camera you’re talking to.”

Ashton pulled his hand back to run his fingers through his hair, and you rounded the counter to wrap your arms around his waist, pressing a kiss against his cheek. His muscles were tense, his heart pounding, skin slightly sweaty and hot. You were sure he’s been pacing his office for the last half an hour, working up his courage to share his thoughts with the world. Whatever he said in that video didn’t matter to you in that moment – he deserved a break and some tender loving care.

”Wanna come outside with me?” you asked, pushing yourself up on your tiptoes, hooking your chin over his shoulder. ”We still have a few sunny hours left. We could just soak in some sunshine and then maybe watch the sunset as well. You’ve been spending so much time inside you’re starting to lose your tan…”

Ash finally let out a laugh, turning around in your arms to kiss your forehead. He wrapped his arms around you, pushing his face against your neck as he cuddled closer, letting you hold him. You ran your fingers up the nape of his neck, brushing through the dark curls, hoping to soothe him a little.

”I could definitely use some time away from my social media and phone,” he mumbled against your neck, and you squeezed his shoulders.

”Then this would be a perfect time for that,” you answered, and Ash just nodded.

You took his hand and led him outside, settling down on one of the sun chairs in the garden, pulling Ashton down next to you. He hesitated for a second, but then laid back against you, sighing as he rested in your arms, eyes closed and head pushed under your chin. You lightly ran your fingers through his curling hair, tucking a lock behind his ear.

”I’m just… tired of fighting,” he started whispering a few minutes later. ”Why can’t things work out just once? It’s like someone cursed our whole album release…”

”I know, love. It does seem like things are a little bit against you all. It’s not fair. You’ve worked so hard on this, you deserve to be charted accordingly.”

”It’s just a number, but still…” he tapped his fingers on your knee, going through the rhythms of Lonely Heart as he spoke.

”It’s a number, Ash, yes. It’s also your job, and you’ve all put your hearts and souls into the album. Just because someone else did their job poorly shouldn’t mean you get treated like this. Like it’s not a big deal,” you kissed the top of his head, resting your cheek on his hair.

”Not even sure what should we do at this point. Should we blame someone? Should we sue them? Should we just let this go and be happy with being #2?” his sighs were heavy, and you could almost hear the gears ticking in his brain.

”What’s the worst that could come out of this?” you asked, squeezing his shoulders to help him relax a little. ”What can they do to you?”

”Sabotage, maybe,” Ash shrugged a little. ”Losing media coverage. Less interviews, less performances, less promotion. Losing our platform, really.”

”Which means losing potential new fans and opportunities, right?” you continued, and he just nodded. ”How does this make you feel?”

”Besides the obvious?” he let out a bitter laugh. ”Mad. Angry. Stressed. Hopeless. Just done.”

”Anxious?” your fingers were back in his hair, lightly brushing through it.

”I felt like I’m gonna throw up while making that video,” Ashton confessed, hands slightly shaking where they rested on your thighs.

”Did you draw the shortest straw? What did the guys say?”

”It seemed like the best thing to do. But it didn’t make it easier, talking through the whole thing with them,” he pushed himself away from you to sit up, burying his face in his hands. ”Shit, Y/N, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

”Your best, Ashton,” you sat next to him, pushing your leg against his, letting him know you were still there. ”You’re doing your best, and no one is blaming you for standing up for your band.”

”I feel like a coward. It took me days to finally say something, and why? Because I was scared that if I do anything it will cost us our good partnership with the media,” he rubbed his face tiredly. ”All the while our fans are fighting for us day and night, and I– I wish I could be as brave as them.”

”Ashton,” you reached out to lightly turn his face towards you, rubbing your thumb over his scruffy cheek. ”It takes a lot of courage to do what you guys do every single day. The moment your name gets out and people start to recognize you… you might as well just put a big target on your own back and let them hate on you. Some will support you, some will do anything to prove you are not good enough. But your fans love you. Remember how they always say that you guys have saved them? Kept them going when they were ready to give up? How you sharing your stories and struggles gave them courage as well to brave the world? They are giving back to you on their own way now. You’ve been brave for so long – it’s okay to take a break and let someone else do the hard work, even just for a day.”

”Will tomorrow be kinder?” he sighed, pushing his face against your palm as you lightly scratched the short hair on his face.

”I don’t know, love, I really don’t,” you shook your head. ”And I’m not gonna pretend that I know the answers. How to solve this or what will happen in a day, or in a week. But I know you made an absolutely amazing album and that people love it and care about it enough to fight for it. That’s an accomplishment, if you ask me. Having such caring fans who would follow you to the end of the world. Sounds like a prize to me.”

”They really are everything to us,” he hummed in agreement, lacing your fingers together. ”I’m really thankful for them. They are the ones who deserve to be #1.”

”They are definitely family at this point,” you smiled at him, and Ash returned it with his own soft smile.

”Yes, they are. Family,” he wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you to his side. ”The most amazing one.”

As you lay back on your chair again Ashton cuddled back to you, letting the sun warm your skin as he relaxed, slowly letting go of the tension he was holding inside. His eyes were closed, a small smile playing around the corner of his mouth as you lightly stroked his hair, making sure to give him all the comfort you could in this hard time. The lights started to slowly fade as the sun was going down behind the hills, and the scene made you think of a line from one of their songs.

”Ash?” you caressed your finger over his ear, and he slowly blinked up at you, already a little sleepy.

”What’s that?”

”I love these twilight moments with you,” you smiled, kissing his temple, and you could feel his smile return.

”Thank you, love,” he pressed a kiss against your shoulder, snuggling back closer. ”Thank you for always being my sunshine.”

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Forty-Six

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Fluff and Smut.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

“Hallelujah!” Harry hears you from the bathroom Thursday morning and he chuckles. “She gone.” You say coming out, dressed for work.

“Good, so I won’t need to use a condom tonight?” He asks pulling his pants on.

“Nope.”

“Thank god.” He wraps his arms around you. “Missed really feelin’ ya.”

“Me too.” You kiss him. “I gotta go.”

“Party’s this Saturday right?”

“Yup, hotel is all taken care of. I’m so excited!”

“It’ll be nice to get away for a night.”

“Mhm.” You kiss him again. “Hey, why don’t I come visit you at lunch today?”

“But I like comin’ to your office, we have way more privacy there.”

“You don’t have a break room?”

“We do…”

“So we’ll eat in there.” You shrug. “I like seeing you at work. You’re like in action.” Harry looks you up and down. You had a light grey pencil skirt on and a navy long sleeve blouse. You’d turn heads for sure.

“Alright, sure. Come see me.” You kiss him one last time, and head out.

//

You can’t wait to see Harry at lunch. Your morning was full of meetings, and your class was just about to start. You got emailed your syllabus and you were already feeling a little overwhelmed. You get up to the studio with your lunchbox and you’re greeted by the young man, Isaac.

“Hello, may I help- oh! It’s you.” He smiles. “What’s your name again?”

“Y/N.” You smile.

“Right! You’re Harry’s girlfriend.”

“That I am.”

“They’re just finishing a quick staff meeting if you wanna have a seat.” There were a few lounge chairs near the reception desk.

“I can’t go wait for him in his office? He does it to me all the time.”

“Well…normally I’d say yes, but these staff meetings can get kind of heated.”

“Who knew there was so much drama at a magazine that’s so tranquil?”

“Oh honey, you have no idea.”

“Because I think you’re a fuckin’ moron, that’s why.” You whip your head around to see Harry being followed by someone.

“I’m the moron?! Really? First you stick me with some little-“

“Stop! She’ll hear you.”

“I don’t care, let her hear me!”

“You’re such a bitch sometimes Mykenzie, fuck.” Your jaw drops. You had never really heard Harry talk like that before, especially not to another woman.

“My work load has essentially piled up because I’ve had to work with her. Same goes for Paige. I think you and Mariah could handle having some extra hands next week so we can have a break.”

“That wouldn’t make any sense! Neither of those girls are interested in the work Mariah and I do. Julia wants to write, and Dana wants to cobble the magazine itself. I don’t know how to use Illustrator, Paige does, so she can keep Dana. By the way, I haven’t heard a fuckin’ peep outa Paige, so I think you’re the only one with the problem. But I’m not surprised. You’re always, always the one to challenge any idea I have.”

“Because you’re ideas are shit, just like your pictures.” His jaw tenses.

“Get the fuck away from me now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She fake pouts. “Did I upset you, daddy?”

This is when you feel the need to step in. Isaac tries to stop you, but you keep walking.

“Hey.” You say. Harry’s eyes soften completely when he sees you.

“Hi!” He kisses you on the cheek. “I just need to heat my food up, we can go down and eat in my car.” He looks back at Mykenzie. “Afraid I’ll lose my appetite if I stay here any longer.” He grabs your hand and pulls you into his office. “Need to heat yours up?”

“No, I did before I left.”

“Alright, back in a tick.”

The girl looks you up and down and scoffs. You sigh and try to ignore her, but you can’t get what she said out of your mind.

“So, you’re the girlfriend?” She finally asks you, standing in the doorway.

“That’d be me, yeah.”

“How nice for you. Sure he’s a real pleasure to have around.” She says sarcastically.

“Actually he is. He’s the sweetest guy I know.”

“Rather short fuse, don’t you think?”

“Don’t see that side of him really. He’s pretty calm around me.” You cross your arms over your chest. “You were fighting over your interns?” She rolls her eyes. “I have an intern at my job too, he’s actually a really big help from time to time. It’s less annoying if you actually try to make the best of it.”

“They’re just so annoying. And all she wants to do is talk about him. Bad enough I have to see him every day, don’t really wanna talk about him.”

Julia was walking towards Harry’s office to ask him about lunch. She stops short when she sees you, but continues walking because she knows she has to ask Mykenzie about lunch too.

“Mykenzie? I’m taking the lunch orders.”

“Greek salad with shredded chicken, dressing on the side.”

“Right…um, hi.”

“Hello.” You smile at her. Harry walks back over cautiously, but furious.

“What the fuck are you doin’ hangin’ around my office for? Leave her alone.”

“We were just chatting, H. Chill.” He takes a deep breath. “Julia, didja need somethin’?”

“No, I can see you don’t need takeout today.”

“Nope.” He smiles and grabs your hand. “Be back later.” He says to Isaac. “I work in a fuckin’ looney bin!” He says once you’re in the elevator.

His car was parked in the garage, but it was still a little chilly so he turns it on. He cracks open his container and starts eating.

“You’re not eatin’ love…” You look down then back at him.

“Did she…did she call you daddy? Did I hear that right?” He nearly chokes on his food, and swallows harshly. “Sort of hard not to hear. You could hear a pin drop up there.”

“Then you know the answer to your question.” He was sweating. This is why he always came to your office.

“Mhm, so let me rephrase. Why did she call you daddy?”

“I don’t wanna talk about this right now, you’re just gonna get mad at me.”

“Harry…” You sigh. “Look, I don’t really care about what you did in your past, but…you work with this woman every day and she’s pretty…”

“Please don’t be jealous, I really can’t fuckin’ stand her.”

“Then why’d she call you that? Is it like an inside joke or something? Are you like the daddy of the office?”

“I wish that’s what it was. When I first started here we hooked up…on more than one occasion.”

“How does that even happen?”

“I don’t know, we went out for drinks, showin’ the new guy around that sorta thing. Went back to her place and so it goes.”

“Okay, but-“

“She liked using that word. I never asked her to use it.” You furrow your eyebrows at him. “You don’t believe me?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you…I just know you can be kind of…well, you like to be the one in charge, so, I mean you must’ve liked it. And how often does she throw that in your face?”

“First time she’s done it in a while. She does it to get under my skin because she’s a fuckin’ bitch. I think she was hopin’ I’d quit or somethin’ early on.” He sighs. “I’m sorry you had to hear all that.”

“It’s okay. So…I have nothing to worry about then?”

“God no! I have absolutely zero feelings for her. It was literally just sex like…years ago.”

“Seems like she’s not over it…you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, I could just tell by her body language.” You shrug, finally eating some food. “Lotta body language up there. I quite literally think everyone I’ve come into contact with up there has a crush on you. You work in an extremely feral environment.” You laugh.

“I think it’s because I’m so mysterious. I don’t talk much to the majority of them.”

“And when you do, are you like that?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know…scary?”

“I scared you?” His face falls.

“Not necessarily, you just seemed so angry.”

“I’m fuckin’ furious. They’re makin’ such a big deal out of nothin’. Why bother hiring interns if you’re not going to use them to the fullest potential. Makes absolutely no fuckin’ sense.”

“You can’t blame them when even you don’t want to work with them.”

“I have no reason to. I prefer to stick to myself to get my work done. Besides the work they wanna do doesn’t even pertain to me, it would be a waste of time. Also, I really don’t need two little girls starin’ at me for eight hours a day.”

“Maybe you could do somethin’ to make yourself less attractive.” You joke.

“But my personality is also just so charmin’.” You both laugh. “So, you’re really not mad.”

“No, how could I be? It was way before we met, and you’re telling me I have nothing to worry about, so I’m not worried about it.” You finish up your food. “I know where I stand with you, I’m not threatened.”

“None of the people up there even come close to you. If anythin’ they should feel threatened.”

“I think that girl Julia does. She stopped short when she saw me, and cautiously approached. Very interesting.”

“Want some gum?”

“Please.” He hands you a piece and you pop it in your mouth.

He looks at you and smiles, leaning in for a kiss. He sees the clock on the dash.

“Feel like a walk, still got thirty minutes.”

“I don’t have my sneakers otherwise I would.”

“Wanna come back up? I can show ya what I’m workin’ on.”

“Okay.” You smile and follow him back up.

Everyone was off eating their lunches so it was quiet. Harry closes the door behind him and tells you all about the project he’s been working on. You’re very impressed with his work.

“You’re so talented baby.”

“Thanks.” You look down at your watch.

“I should probably get going.”

“I’ll walk you down to your car.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. How else can I get a kiss in private?”

“Ohhh, I see.” You wink at him and put your jacket on. He holds your hand for everyone to see as folks roam back to their desks.

Julia and Dana are chatting with Isaac.

“I’ll be right back, just walkin’ my girl to her car.”

“Sure thing, H.” Isaac says. “Can you believe that woman did that to his neck the other day? She doesn’t look like the type.”

“Did you see how mad Mykenzie was after they left for lunch? Thought she was going to tear me to pieces.”

“I’ve never seen H like this before. He’s had girlfriends here and there, but none that he would ever let come here. Probably in fear of them running into Mykenzie. She really held her own though, I was impressed.”

“She’s super intimidating, did you see how she was dressed? So fancy.”

“She must work at a nicer office than this.” Isaac shrugs.

Harry gives you what feels like a million kisses before letting you drive off. He tells you how much he loves you and waves. He comes back upstairs and sees the same three people chatting.

“Did you have a nice lunch, H?”

“I did, thanks. How bout yourselves?”

“Yup.”

“Mhm.”

“Yes.”

“Can I ask the three of you somethin’, and be honest. Am I scary?”

“You’re intimidating.” Isaac says bluntly. “But not scary.”

“Do you all get frightened we start yellin’ about?”

“No…you all make it look so normal.” Dana says.

“Your girlfriend is really pretty.” Julia blurts out. Both of Harry’s eyebrows raise.

“Um…yeah she is, isn’t she?”

“Where does she work?”

“At a marketing agency.”

“Ohhh, so that’s why she dresses like that.”

“Like what?” He scoffs.

“All fancy. We walk around here in raggedy jeans and t-shirts.”

“We’re not really seen by the public, so it doesn’t matter. She’s constantly meetin’ with clients and what not. So she has to dress a little nicer.”

“Makes sense.”

“Now look, I know there’s been a bit of drama over the two of you this week, but stand your grounds. You’re both here for a reason and I won’t let those idiots ruin it. Has Myk taught ya anythin’ yet?”

“Sure, lots of stuff. She just has a sour attitude.”

“And what about Paige?”

“She’s been really nice actually.”

“Good. Ask for Myk, that’s just her. She’s a miserable cu-“

“Harry.” Isaac nods his head towards her.

“Thanks mate.”

“What are we all gossiping about? Lunch is over ladies, let’s get back to work, hm?” They both nod at her and disperse. “Have a nice break?” She asks smugly.

“Can I speak to you privately for a moment?” He gestures towards his office. They both go inside but he leaves the door open. He crosses his arms over his chest. “I just had to have a very uncomfortable conversation with my girlfriend because you felt the need to call me a certain name.”

“What? Da-“ He puts his hand up.

“Don’t say it again, to me, ever. All that happened a very long time ago, I don’t want it bein’ brought up again.”

“Why, it make her upset?” She says with fake concern.

“No, she was actually pretty unbothered. It made me uncomfortable though, so it’s enough.”

“Unbothered?”

“Yeah, it’s called trust, look it up.” He sighs. “Look, I get you’re annoyed right now, but let’s play nice, alright?”

“Whatever.”

“Don’t think your boyfriend would very much like it if he knew you were talkin’ like that to someone else.”

“No, suppose he’d have to teach me a lesson wouldn’t he?” She turns and walks out.

“Close the door f’me!” She yanks it shut. “Cunt.” He says under his breath.

//

Harry can’t wait to get home to you. You were fixing up dinner when he walked in. Your smile always took away any stress he might have carried home with him. Suddenly all of the times he’s come home annoyed made sense to you. You weren’t sure how he was able to get anything done with all those distractions.

“Hi.” Kisses you on the cheek. “Mm, somethin’ smells good.”

“Roasted veggies tonight with some rice. Only needs another thirty minutes in the oven.”

“Thanks for cookin’.”

“Course.”

“I asked to work from home tomorrow, this has been the longest fuckin’ week. He groans. “So I’m not gonna get up with ya tomorrow, I need to sleep in a bit.”

“Alright.” You push a few curls that fell onto his forehead back. “So…what would you like to do for the next 30 minutes?”

He grins at you and cups your cheeks in his hands, pulling you in for a kiss. You wrap your arms around him and pull him closer to you.

“Bring me to the sofa.” You say against his lips. Without hesitation he lifts you up and does as you say.

He sits down, keeping you on top of him. You tug at the hem of his shirt and lift it up over your head. You attack his chest with kisses and reach for to unbutton his pants. He lifts up so you can tug his pants his boxers down to his knees. You hike up your skirt. (You took your nylons off when you got home.) His hand grazes your center, and rubs at your already swollen clit through your panties.

“You’re already soaked, were ya thinkin’ bout me?”

“Yes, been thinking about you all day.” You kiss on his neck as he continues to rub you.

He smirks and tugs your panties to the side. You lift up and he guides himself in. You both moan at the contact.

“Feel so fuckin’ good, angel.” He says into your ear, sending a shiver up your spine. He nips at the skin just below your earlobe as you move up and down on him.

“Fuck, Harry.” One hand tugs at his hair while the other his clutching at his shoulder. His hand moves back to rub at your clit. He pinches it at first and then rubs down hard on it with his thumb. “Shit!” You groan.

“Like when I do that?”

“F, faster.”

Your mouth finds his as he rubs your clit faster. He swallows all of your moans until you have to detach yourself from him just to catch some air. He thrusts up and your back arches. He hit bottom just as you came.

“Harryyyyyy.” You moan out and tuck your face in the crook of his neck. “Fuck.”

He continues to thrust up into you, slowly, knowing that you were no sensitive. He just wanted to bend you over the sofa he could come, but you two still hadn’t gotten there yet. You had been so open and willing to a lot these last couple of weeks, but that was still uncharted territory.

“Can I come in your mouth?” You scrunch your face. You didn’t want to taste yourself on him. “Please, baby? Wanna feel those pretty lips wrapped around me.” You tighten around him, feeling aroused by his dirty words.

“But I…don’t you like the way I’m wrapped around you now?” You start to move up and down on him again. “Doesn’t this feel good?”

“Feeels amazing.” He looks at you. “But I really wanna come in your mouth.”

“But I wanna feel you fill me up.” You whine. “Won’t you do that for me?”

“Who said this was the only time this was going to happen tonight?” You bite your bottom lip and smile.

“So if I, shit, if I do this for you now, you’ll fill me up later?”

“Yes, I promise.”

In a swift motion you get off of him, and get on your knees. You don’t think much about the taste as you follow your cheeks around him.

“That’s it, takin’ me so well.” ­­­­His head rolls back as bob up and down on him. “M’gonna come baby.”

His hot come shoots out into your mouth, and you swallow every last drop. You dab the corners of your mouth for anything that might have spilled over. You stand up and pull your skirt down. The time goes off and you pad over to the oven. Harry pulls his boxer and pants back up and goes into the kitchen, grabbing you both a couple of bowls for your dinner. He kisses you on the cheek.

“Love you.” He says sitting down at the island.

“Love you too.”

Later in the evening, after watching a little TV, you both decide to go into the bedroom. You both do your nightly routines and get settled in bed. Harry moves to hover over you and starts kissing your soft lips.

“Harry?”

“Yeah babe?”

“Should we try, um, what Dr. Mara said?” He gets off of you and you both sit up.

“What exactly do you wanna try?”

“Well… like she said, we could just get into the position. I have underwear on and so do you. Maybe you could just like…press up against me or something?”

“Are you sure you wanna do that now?”

“Gotta start some time, right.”

You shift and flip over and get on your elbows and knees. Harry gets behind you, and you look over your shoulder so you can see him clearly. His hands grip your hips lightly and pulls your butt up more.

“Okay so far?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I’m gonna press against you now.”

“Okay.” You face forward and brace yourself.

Harry lightly presses against you. You shift a little, but you feel fine. You feel him start to harden against you and he presses harder.

“Okay!” You inch forward. “That’s enough.” He backs up. You turn over and sit cross-legged in front of him. You take a deep breath. “Good start.” He sits the same way you do.

“What scared you?”

“I don’t know I got nervous…”

“I’m going to suggest something, just keep an open mind.”

“Alright.”

“So, like, you get scared because you can’t see who’s behind you, right? And you’re picturin’ him?” You nod your head yes. “And obviously it would hurt your neck too much to keep lookin’ back at me. So, what if we tried some of these things in the bathroom where we have that large mirror. I’m not even talkin’ fuckin’. We can literally do what we just did, but at least you’d be able to see me.”

“That’s actually a really good idea. Maybe we could try that tomorrow?”

“Sure, anythin’ ya want.”

He caresses your cheek with his hand, and you turn to kiss his palm.

“Thank you for always being so wonderful to me, I love you so much.”

“I love you too. We’re in this together after all.”

“Would you like to fill me up now?” You ask shyly. He nods and you lay back down.

Harry hovers over you and discards you of your panties and shirt. He gets rids of his boxers and his hands move all over you. His fingers run up and down your slit before going up inside. You moan at the way his fingers feel as they curl up. Harry should really write a book on how to have sex, he was just so good at it.

“Want you now.” You whine.

“Yeah? Want me cock babe?”

“Please, need it so bad.” He smirks and parts your legs further as he pushes inside of you. “Wasn’t enough earlier.”

“No?”

“No, it was too quick. I like when we take our time.”

“Got all the time in the world for you, angel.”

Harry pumps in and out of you slowly while his thumb works your clit. He always knew exactly how to make you squirm beneath him.  You couldn’t get enough of him.

“Yeah, fuck me Harry.” He plants kisses to your neck. “Your cock is so big, feels so good.”

“Love it when you talk to me like that, keep goin’.” He says into your ear.

“Love the way your hard muscles feel against me, you’re so strong.”

Harry’s dick hits your g-spot repeatedly while he rubs your clit. You start panting and wrap your legs around him tightly.

“Harry!”

“That’s right, say my name baby.”

“Harry! Fuck, fuck, fuck, nghhhhhhh.” Your nails claw down his back as you reach your climax.

“Shit, that feels good.” He says against you. You run your nails down his back again and goosebumps raise on his skin.

“You wanna come baby?”

“Mhm.” He nips at your collar bone. He moves his pelvis round in a circle and you gasp.

“Harry.” You start panting again. “Harry, please. Want it so bad.”

He thrusts in and out of you sloppily until you feel him press his hardest, and you feel the warm liquid shoot inside you. Harry pulls out slowly, and before his come and leak out of you, he presses two fingers back inside you. You gasp from being overly sensitive. Your eyes nearly pop out as you watch him.

“What, ngh, what are you doing?”

“You keep sayin’ how you wanna be filled up, figured you’d wanna stay full of me for as long as possible.” Your jaw drops and your eyes dart to his fingers plugging up his come inside you.

“That’s…so hot.” You make eye contact with him and he leans in to kiss you. He slowly takes his fingers out of you. He looks at you for a second. “What?” You bat your eyelashes at him.

All he does is hold his fingers that were just inside you up. They were covered in the mixture of the two of you, but mostly him. Your eyes dart to his fingers then back to his eyes. You look at him as if asking, you want me to? He nods his head yes. You lick your lips and part them. He sticks his fingers inside your mouth and you suck on them. He groans watching you lick them clean. You try not to focus on the taste, just the pure intimate thing you were doing. Something that would remain between the two of you.

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

you took me on a cut-your-own-christmas-tree-farm date & holy frick you make a cute lumberjack I WAS UNPREPARED 

A couple of cuss words are in here. Fluffiness ahead.  

All the instructions said were for him to dress warm, which in Race’s mind was jeans, a shirt with a flannel shirt over it and his winter coat. He wasn’t prepared to see Lumberjack Spot walk out of their bedroom, tugging on his winter coat. His breath was momentarily taken away as his eyes slowly made their way up Spot’s body. “You done checking me out?” 

“Uhhh . . . I may need a moment or two more.” Race grinned, taking another look before Spot grabbed his hand and dragged him out of their house. “So where are we going?” 

Spot gave him a look as they got into the SUV, they had recently purchased. It was the first car either of them owned that wasn’t used and both had a blast test driving so many cars before landing on a deep navy blue Nissan Rogue. “You know what the date is, right?” 

“Uhhh . . . December 1st, right?” Race had a hard time keeping track of the days as they mostly just blended together with appointments and work. 

Spot started driving, giving his boyfriend a grin. “Yes, It’s December 1st and it’s a surprise if you haven’t figured it out yet.” 

Race nodded, hooking his phone up to the bluetooth as Michael Buble’s “It’s Beginning To Look a Lot Like Christmas” played softly through the speakers. Race laced his fingers with Spot’s and squeezed them as they headed out of the city. 

“How has your week been?” Race smiled, looking over at Spot. “I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.” 

Spot grimaced, his engineering firm was about to close a big deal with a local hospital on building a state of the art facility that would take a couple of years and millions of dollars. “The deal is almost done. We’re anticipating being able to sign on Monday. I’ll just be glad when it’s done.” 

“Have they named a head engineer on it yet?” Race asked, knowing just how badly Spot wanted the job. 

He shook his head. “Not yet. My boss said they’re going to announce it in a few weeks.” 

“Fingers crossed that it’ll be you, Spottie.” Race grinned. 

Shaking his head, Spot clicked off the cruise control as they merged onto an exit. Race looked up, not recognizing where they were headed. “Don’t jinx me. Yes, I want it but I’ll be happy that the firm is getting the business. There’ll be other big deals.” 

One of the many things that Race loved about Spot is that he was modest. One of the things Race disliked about Spot was that he didn’t toot his own horn and own his accomplishments. Spot was a brilliant engineer who had finished the new art museum to rave reviews. They had toured it several weeks ago and even Race was impressed by the building. 

“You’re too modest. You deserve that contract, Spot.” Race gave him a look with a soft smile. “Own that and let yourself imagine it for a second that it could be yours.” 

Spot nodded, as they turned into a seemingly empty lot. They quickly parked as Race’s eyes widened in realization. “We’re cutting down our Christmas tree today, aren’t we?” 

“Yes, yes we are. It’s tradition after all.” Spot laughed, getting out of the car and heading into the little hut off to the side. Race watched as he talked with the lady behind the counter, her handing him a map and a saw. A few more words were exchanged before Spot joined him outside. 

“That looked to be an interesting conversation.” Race noted as Spot nodded, opening up the map she had given him. 

Nodding, Spot laid the map out on the hood of the car, surveying it. “She asked if we had done this before and I told her yes. Then she asked about the particular tree that we were looking for. I told her something that’s full, won’t shed a lot, and tall. She suggested the Fraser Fir, as they have a firm needle.” 

Race snorted at the statement before hip checking Spot as he looked at the map, pointing at a spot. “So we’re heading over here?” 

“Let’s go find us a tree.” Spot scooped up the map, grabbed the saw and Race’s hand as they made their way out to the field. They headed to the left side, where the Fraser Firs would be. In passing a few trees, they quickly decided to keep walking. “How big are we looking for?” 

“Well the house ceilings are 12 feet, so something significantly less than that.” Spot shrugged. “Maybe like 8 or 9 feet.” 

Race nodded, stopping to look at one, letting his fingers comb the branches. “How about this one?” 

Spot eyed it, shrugging. “How about we keep looking? It doesn’t feel like the right one.” 

Race laughed, throwing his head back. “You’ve get a feeling about the right tree?” 

“It's instinctual.” Spot said, walking a few yards away from Race. 

He shook his head, watching his boyfriend walk away. “Now I know you’re just making shit up.” 

Spot’s laugh echoed in the open field, causing Race to smile before going to find him. Race found him looking at a tall tree with a grin. “How about this one?” 

Race joined him, letting his fingers fall to the branches and giving them a hearty tug. The needles were soft under his fingers and the tree was taller than him, which wasn’t saying much. “I love it. I think this might be the one.” 

“Want to do the honors?” Holding out the saw to him, Spot gave Race a look before busting up laughing.

“Have you met me?” Race wheezed out over the laughter. “I can’t cut anything straight. I’ll muck it up.” 

Spot dropped to his knees before falling to his stomach, grumbling about being on the cold ground before starting to cut down the tree. Race took the opportunity to gleefully stare at his rear in the tight jeans. “And quit checking me out.” 

Gasping, Race gave him a grin.  “I wouldn’t do such a thing.” 

“Then why do I feel your eyes burning holes on my ass?” Spot looked over his shoulder with a grin, continuing to cut down the tree. 

The tree fell with a flourish as Spot held a hand out to be helped up. Race pulled him into his arms, kissing him with a grin. “Great job, Spottie.” 

Spot laughed, picking up the truck before motioning Race to grab the top. They awkwardly walked back to the parking lot, allowing the employees to wrap it up and tie it down to the car. After paying, they were on their way back to the city. “How are we going to decorate it?” 

“Lights, ornaments, the whole 9 yards that we typically decorate it.” Spot shrugged, not really understanding where Race was going with this. 

“All tonight?” Race asked, fiddling with the radio. 

Spot caught his hand in his, lacing their fingers together, squeezing them gently. “If you want. Or we can put the lights up tonight and do the ornaments tomorrow.” 

“Rather just get it done and over with.” Race sighed, relaxing back in his seat, watching the world pass them by. “It’s hard to believe it’s already December. Seemed the year just started and now we’re almost done.” 

Spot smiled, listening to Race go soft. “Are you ready for the mayhem that’ll be coming with work?” 

“Christmas dances are already underway and we have our big showcase on the 21st- you’ll be there right?” Race asked, biting his lip. 

Spot nodded. “It’s in my calendar and I wouldn’t miss it for the world, especially since Ella is making her dancing debut.” 

Jack and Kat’s daughter, Ella, was 3 and all she could talk about was dancing at Uncle Race’s studio. The little girl loved her uncles and loved dancing even more so it was a natural fit. 

“She’s so good, Spottie.” Race sighed. “It’ll be fun watching her grow and continue to get better.” 

Spot loved listening to Race talk about dancing. He had been a dancer his whole life and the decision to open his own studio wasn’t one he took lightly but he excelled at it. He had a waiting list of potential dancers due to the popularity of the studio and the high standards he held his dancers to. 

Race sighed. “It’s going to be chaotic these next few weeks but it’ll be nice to have some time off at the end of the month.  Maybe we can get away for a few days after Christmas.” 

“That sounds like a plan. We should probably book something sooner rather than later and maybe in the middle of the week.” Spot loved the suggestion and knew that Race was correct about the chaotic nature of the weeks ahead. 

Once home, they made quick work getting the tree into the house and setting it up in the corner of the living room. “Hey, where did we put the lights?” 

“Uhhh . . . I think they’re in the attic.” Spot called back, tightening the tree stand, ensuring that the tree was secured. 

Race nodded, heading into the hallway where their pulldown stairs were located. Once the ladder was secured, he climbed it immediately finding the big box that had Spot’s scrawl on it. Grabbing it, he heffed it downstairs, putting in near the tree with a huff. “You okay?” 

“Have I mentioned how much I hate our attic?” Race gave him a look with a shake of his head. “Because if I haven’t, I really hate it.” 

Spot chuckled, because it was the same statement every year around this time. “I’m sorry that you had to go up there.”

Race shook his head, opening up the box, grabbing a string of lights. Spot stayed back, knowing how much Race loved to put the lights on. “Quit staring at my ass.” 

“Payback is hell.” Spot grinned, letting his eyes scan Race’s backside with a chuckle.

Race looked over his shoulder and wiggled his butt at Spot as he continued to clip the lights into place, causing Spot to laugh at him. Before long, Spot was grabbing the step stool for Race so he could do the top part of the tree. While he did that, Spot went up to the attic to retrieve the boxes that were filled with their ornaments. 

“Spottie?” Race called, standing at the bottom of the ladder, looking uneasily up into the attic. “You up there?” 

“Yea I’m up here.” Spot handed him a box, watching him take into the living room before appearing once more. He handed him one more before walking down with the final box. 

Looking at the boxes, Race looked over at Spot with a grin. “How do you want to do this?” 

“How about we start with our ornaments for the year?” Spot suggested as Race grinned.

They had started the tradition the first year they were together. They would each buy each other ornaments that reflected on the past year. In the past four years, they had to get creative with the ornaments. 

Spot walked into their bedroom, grabbing a box and went back into the living room as Race came from their home office. “You hid yours in the home office?” 

“You never go in there so it was the perfect hiding place.” Race grinned, sitting on the couch as Spot joined him. “You go first.” 

Spot grinned, handing over the colorfully wrapped box. Race’s eyes lit up at the box before slowly starting to unwrap it. A plain brown box was in his hands as he slid his finger under the tape. Opening it up, Race gasped at the silver box that had a silver ribbon on top with a red ribbon attached to it. “It’s so pretty. But I don’t understand.” 

Spot took the box from him, before lacing their fingers together, giving them a quick squeeze. “Antonio, it’s been an amazing four years since you walked into my life. You have turned my world upside down and I am so thankful everyday that I can call you mine. Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” 

Dropping to his knee, Spot unlocked the silver box to reveal a silver hammered ring, nestled in the velvet inside. Race’s jaw dropped as a tear made its way down his face. Nodding, he sniffled. “Yes, Sean. Yes.” 

Taking the ring out of the box, he slid it on Race’s ring finger before pulling Race to him, kissing him. “I love you, Racer.” 

“I love you too Spottie.” Race held his left hand up, admiring the ring. “Damn you Spot. Making me cry . . . it’s supposed to be a happy day.”

Spot chuckled, kissing him once more. “It is a happy day. You just made all of my hopes, dreams, and wishes come true.” 

“And now you want me to give you my ornament?” Race said, wiping his eyes with a sigh. Spot grinned at him, nodding. 

Handing Spot a simple red wrapped box, Race ran his finger over the ring that was just placed on his finger with a grin. Race had had a hard time picking out Spot’s ornament but hoped he would love it. 

“Don’t look so nervous.” Spot grinned, pulling off the wrapping paper watching Race bit his lip. “I’m sure I’ll love it.” 

Race nodded, his lip still in between his teeth. Spot opened the box, gasping at what was laying among the tissue paper. Race had gotten a local artist to create an ornament of the two of them. Their backs on the ornament with Spot’s arm around Race’s back. Along the bottom were their names along with “your my person” and the year. 

Spot looked up at Race with tears in his eyes. “I absolutely love it. This is amazing.” 

“You sure?” Race asked, despite the reaction from Spot, he was still nervous. 

Putting the ornament on the coffee table, Spot leaned over to Race, pulling him in for a kiss. “Yes, I absolutely love it. It’s perfect for this year.  Our ornaments go hand in hand.”

“Unintentionally but yes they do.” Race grinned, pulling Spot back in for a kiss. “I love you Sean Conlon. Thank you for making me the happiest person yet.” 

“Love you too Antonio Higgins. Thank you for making me so happy.” Spot sighed, lacing their fingers together. “What do you say staying here for a few hours before we decorate the tree? Wanna cuddle with you.” 

Race nodded, kicking off his shoes before laying his head on Spot’s chest, fingers still laced together. “You’re a sap Conlon but I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

“Love you too Higgins.” Spot grinned, running his fingers through Race’s curls with a sigh of contentment. 

Later, after the tree was decorated, they would sit in front of it with Race’s ring on display as they texted and called their friends and family, bringing them into their little secret. Race would look over at Spot with the biggest grin on his face, knowing his life was complete due to the amazing person sitting next to him. 

Any feedback you have would be awesome! Hope you enjoyed the fluffiness of these two!!!