#i got a scratch on my face while climbing a fence that we thought might need stitches

[gofrannypack]

oops I just remembered one more

For the purposes of this poll, do NOT count the following:

Your own birth (unless there were complications/urgent concerns)

Routine check-ups or scheduled-in-advance appointments that just happened to be at a hospital

Visiting or accompanying someone else to the hospital

Use your discretion as to whether to count visits to urgent care.

–

We ask your questions anonymously so you don’t have to! Submissions are open on the 1st and 15th of the month.

[fourmarkdove]

Upstate.

Title: Upstate. | Masterlist

Summary: When the Captain learns you’ve kept a secret all these years, he’s more furious than he’s ever been.

Pairing: Syverson x Reader

Words: 5.5k

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Angst, breeding kink, daddy kink, size kink, rough sex, dirty talk. Infertility/PCOS. 

A/N: Had this in my drafts forever and sort of forgot I wrote it. Comments are welcome! Thanks for reading!

~

It wasn’t supposed to take this long to get pregnant.

It just wasn’t.

You went on the pill shortly after you met, which wasn’t the most glamorous story, but that one drunken pounding against the ladies bathroom wall just days before he was set to ship out set the tone for your relationship. At least in the beginning.

He did two more tours after that. The first time he was on leave, he dropped to a knee, all suntanned and scruffy, after dinner at your favorite little fish shop on the pier.

“We haven’t known each other so long, but your sweet voice on those phone calls, babydoll. They keep me goin’ when I feel like there’s not much reason to.”

That last time he promised, “We’re gonna settle down for good. You an’ me an’ our brood. Daddy just has some unfinished ass to kick, but don’t you worry, sweetness. Nothin’ but picket fences and backyard barbecues soon as I get back.”

You said of course you’d marry your coarse, burly soldier and there never was a happier man who swept up his girl on that pier in a yellow sundress.

You never thought you’d see the day when your hardline, take no bullshit, don’t give em’ an inch Captain would shed a tear - let alone in public - but he did just that the moment he turned his shoulder and saw you in the just barely off-white dress.

He swept his woman off your feet, saying he wanted to be a gentleman and treat you right. But you knew by the intensity of his gaze and how he barely glanced at the pretty white lingerie before he started tearing it off your body that he was going to have trouble being gentle. Not that you minded. You had no regrets when it came to this swollen beast of a man filling every hole, manipulating your body in unnatural positions because you were smaller and he was strong as a horse and built like a brick wall. He’d pin your wrists to the bed above your head and gorge on your heaving tits, or grip behind your knees and have your feet bouncing behind his thick neck, until you were a sweat slick, foul mouthed whore begging for more of his meaty shaft pounding you into a moaning, senseless mess. You thought growing up there’d be something magical and pure about being a new bride dressed in white giving yourself over, blushing and shy, to the man you promised to love forever.

The reality was so much more visceral. All you wanted for days on end was his thick body forcing your thighs open, his hands gripping your flesh, fingers leaving bruises on your hips, crushing kisses that nearly made you faint, the salty taste of his sweat and cum dripping from your lips and cunt, rolling down your thighs, smeared onto the teeth marks he left around your nipples and on your ass like a soothing balm. The only soundtrack in the house was the grunting feral sounds over you as if he willed his very being into yours through the force of each veiny thrust. And the lewd slapping of flesh against flesh, sometimes muted just a bit by the rough hair trailing down his torso leading to his monster cock. The sound of his thighs clapping against your ass and thighs as he fisted your hair and drove himself into your cervix never ever got tiresome.

When he’d get too close, he’d devour your cunt, biceps and forearms flexing and lifting you to his face, swallowing every drop of your slick mixed with his, swirling his thick tongue over your sensitive clit, feeding the mixed liquids back inside your slit. He’d drop to a knee and spread you over his shoulders if you didn’t make it to bed, or in bed, he’d trail down your body, nipping and biting, picking up your skin between his teeth, flashing those blue eyes up at you. He loved going down on his woman maybe even more than burying his throbbing cock, so he’d always glance up to see your lashes flutter, eyes roll back, lips part and scream silently as he gorged on your sex. His beard scratched between your thighs and made you that much more sensitive but fuck you loved it and he loved marking you. He’d sink his sharp canines into the crease of your thigh and bite down just hard enough to make you cry out and arch for him.

By the time you were begging to come and whimpering his name like a prayer, he’d force his heavy, uncut cock all the way inside and start grinding, flexing every muscle in his core powering the grunting snaps of his hips into yours, seeking both of your release. And his mouth would get so filthy pressed to your ear.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you up with all this cum. Not gonna be able to walk straight for weeks. That’s right spread wider for me. Fuckin’ give me that cunt. You’re gonna take it all like a good girl aren't ya? Get you all round - knocked up with my seed over and over. All that thick cream in these balls is just for you. That’s right. You want it? Milk it, babe.”

He growled and groaned, slapping his balls against your ass, all of the things that made you gasp and close down on him. You’d come first. Always. pulling the head of his cock right up against your cervix. He’d keep thrusting through your orgasm and his followed quickly after.

His big body could crush you under his weight but you loved it, practically demanded it, so he’d half roll off, resting mostly on his side and forearm and hip, while he panted into your hair on the pillow. But you wanted him all over your skin. The musky scent of his, still rolling down his hot skin, sweaty and thick with pheromones and sex, from working so hard to get both of you off over and over, you had no way to explain how you loved it - except by licking up the side of his neck and suckle kissing behind his ear while he panted into the pillow, his bicep and forearm heavy across your chest or around your hip, still holding you possessively.

He’d chuckle, still panting and turn his head on the pillow. Voice still rough from the beating his vocal cords took while he growled, huffed, groaned and barked instructions to you, he’d whisper in those quieter moments.

“Insatiable, kitten. Gimme a minute. Daddy knows what you need.”

You’d turn over in his weighty, tree bough arms and nuzzle into his hairy chest, feeling his thumping heartbeat hard and steady under your fingers. Tree trunk legs could pull all of you into him, and he’d fold you into his center, so not a single inch of you would have to touch sticky bed sheets when he rolled over onto his back. Thick fingers spread across your back, soothing over your roughed up skin, lifting your hair off of your sweaty neck, until the cool air in the room and his perpetually hot skin balanced to the perfect temperature somewhere in the middle.

It went on like that for three, six, nine months once he was home for good. Only two things changed as the months went on. His chocolate curls grew and spilled onto his forehead - which you loved to run your hands through - and you conceded the beard stays if the curls do too.

You came off the pill immediately, from that first night he came home, and never went back to it.

“Sweetness, don’t stress about it,” he’d coo gently, finding you curled up in bed or in the bathroom, sitting alone in the empty back bedroom in the new house. He’d try to squeeze the sadness out of your body every single month with his huge bear arms.

“It’s fun to try again, ain’t it?” he’d wiggle his eyebrows, and make you giggle through the tears. The more playful he was about it, the harder he leaned into trying everything he could to make it easier on you, so that meant a lot of research on websites. He never in a million years thought he’d be reading up on ‘luteal phases’.

He never had to be told twice that you might be ovulating. You’d whisper it to him sometimes he’d sense it. In bed, he’d smell that wet heat before you even backed your ass up against him, wiggling your aching core against the base of his raging erection. Slipping his big hand down your tummy and into your panties, he’d slide a long couple fingers through your slick heat, spreading your pussy lips achingly wide before withdrawing his hand and wrapping his other arm around the front of your shoulders.

“Mmph looks like you’re ready,” he’d groan, checking the viscosity of your juices. Spreading your slick between his fingers, he’d lick at it, gripping you tighter as you’d smirk and work your hips mercilessly on his dick.

That one taste would be enough to work him into a rutting frenzy though. “Got damnit, I need a taste,” he’d growl, climbing down and burying his face between your thighs. His mouth and beard would come up glistening with your juices and he’d look positively lust drunk on the stuff. Spreading his knees, he’d hoist your thighs up onto his, spreading your knees over his hips, so he’d be able to have a perfect look at your swollen cunt.

Pupils dilated and breathing hard, he’d pinch the hood of your clit and stroke it between his finger and thumb, making you squeal and writhe, pulling your own hair. He was in awe of your pussy every time he actually looked at that tiny, suckling hole - how in the world did you manage to stretch and accept his girthy cock? It had to hurt, right? It HAD to. Gripping your hips, he pulled you up to himself, one forearm supporting under your ass, and the other around your back. Touching foreheads, he nuzzled you lovingly.

You kissed him hungrily, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip before letting go. Hair mussed and giving him the darkest look, rolling your hips in his lap, you purred deep. Much to your confusion, he was the one to slow things down, smiling in his gorgeous blue eyes, kissing over your forehead, temples, eyelashes, nose, each lip.

“I wanna give you everything, babydoll,” he sighed, dropping his head to kiss over your shoulder.

Arching your back, you had him grip onto your hands and ease you, still spread over his hairy thighs, back onto the bed.

“Put a baby in me,” you demanded. He huffed out a sharp breath, puffing out his cheeks, before plunging two thick fingers into your cunt, scissoring his fingers to stretch you out. You shrieked and moaned in pleasure, arching deeply.

He could have been gentle but those five little words; that demand of yours. You were his new CO and when he received orders, he ploughed through at a punishing pace.

“Gotta prime these walls,” he grunted, thrusting his fingers in and out, turning his hand so he could rub sloppy juices spilling out of your cunt. Leaning over, he pressed his palm against the mattress next to your head and did something near a one handed push up, coming nose to nose with you.

“Why we gotta prime walls, baby?”

You whined as he flexed and slipped a third thrusting finger into your slurping cunt, begging for something larger to grip onto.

“We prime…” you panted, clawing across the tense muscles in his chest, “because you’re gonna… paint my walls… with your seed.”

Giving you his tongue, he withdrew his fingers and smeared his fingers over his precum-leaking meaty member. Just pushing it down to the right angle and you arched, digging your toes into his tree trunk thighs as you accepted his cock into your aching insides. You cried out, tossing your head back, but that just made him latch onto your throat and thrust into your cervix like a battering ram.

You screamed his name two, maybe three times, and he bared his teeth, growling and swearing, struggling to hold on, planking on his forearms desperate not cum yet while your smaller slippery body, squirmed and writhed under him. One second you were hissing and gasping, sinking your teeth and nails into his shoulders or biceps. The next you’d sob and dig your feet in, because you were so stretched and so sensitive. If he could just hold on that second longer, you’d grab at his ass, let your thighs open up and release your massaging death grip on his cock still buried as deep as he last thrust before you clamped down on him to begin with. Then he slowed just a bit to kiss your panting mouth as the orgasmic shockwaves relaxed. Your deep purr indicated you were ready for more, so he’d catch under your knees and fold you in half, pounding your body at a different angle.

When it was time, he bore his teeth and groaned, burying his face in your neck, getting sloppy with his thrusts until the last two that were exceptionally deliberate, seeding white hot cum directly to the source, his slit ground mercilessly against your cervix, for a direct shot at emptying himself into your womb.

When all was said and done, you’d toss him a pillow and he’d kneel between your legs, pushing the pillow under you to keep your hips elevated. Hooking his arms under your thighs, he kissed all around your sensitive mound. Kissing inside your thighs, he could thumb your swollen lips apart and see how completely full he’d filled you, to the point of leaking, but neither of you minded. If it wasn’t too tender, he’d clean you up with his tongue before lying down with you again, closing your legs, and drawing both your knees up over his hip.

You assured him every time that the pain was hardly anything as you shuddered and clung onto his imposing frame. It was only the last couple of months that instead of giggling and demanding ice cream in bed after what you both agreed was the best sex anyone on the planet was having, you just wanted to be held.

“Shhh, shhh... I got you, sweetness,” he’d soothe, drawing up blankets, rubbing you all over. He’d tuck you into his chest, and you’d curl up even smaller, your soft little body trembling against his twitching muscle always felt amazing before. But not when it came with tears. You hid your face away when he asked what was wrong, but he felt the little puffs of held breath and silent tears falling into his chest hair.

Finally, finally, one night spent cradling you in his arms and kissing your tears away, he convinced you. And you didn’t just break your silence.

You shattered.

“Doc told me years ago... it isn’t... I’ll never have…babies of my own. My hormones are all wrong for it. She said shots, maybe IVF but… even conceiving… even if possible, it’d be…”

The worried lines around his eyes and across his forehead smoothed out as he stared at the blinking red light on the smoke detector above the bed. He stayed quiet, putting an arm behind his head.

“I hoped I would have found a better way to tell you all this before now.”

“You knew before we met?” His voice was uncomfortably calm. “Five years ago.”

“Yes, but I didn’t mean to—“

“Ya kept it from me. No indication whatsoever there were problems on the home front, though.”

“I hoped I wouldn’t ever have to say anything because we’d somehow be pregnant by now and—“

“Ya let me think everything was fine. Told me, “Come on home, soldier. Let’s try workin’ on that family again.’ And I did. Every tour. I came crawlin’ home to you.”

Sitting up against the headboard, he flicked on the bedside lamp and scratched his beard, eventually dropping his upturned hands on his thighs, displaying his defeat.

Even though you wore his shirt from the night before and he was naked, barely covered by the bedsheet, you felt entirely exposed. You wanted to dissolve into liquid and melt into the floor or shed your skin and slink into a nook and never come out again.

His wide eyes plead with you: ‘give me something substantial to grasp onto. Toss a rope and a damn good reason for all of the lies to a drowning man.’

There was only one reason, but you couldn’t bear saying it out loud. You couldn’t the entire time you knew him.

Slipping his hand behind your neck, he thumbed your chin up to look at him. “You thought I wouldn’t want ya if I knew, huh.”

Your bottom lip quivered but he didn’t let you collapse into yourself. Looking over your tense, teary, flushed features thoughtfully, he stayed silent. He had a way of looking still as a sheet of ice while a raging current boiled just underneath. That kind of stillness gave those under his command confidence because even amidst chaos, he made solid decisions. Ones that saved their lives, kept them out of harm's way.

In that moment, you felt no confidence. Sitting on your knees expectantly, you trembled all over. He moved his thumb down from your chin as he inhaled audibly, and furrowed his brow exhaling forcefully, wrapping his massive hand around your throat.

The moments waiting made your ears hot and the blood rush to your face. Tightness crept across your chest. You broke the silence first or you’d have lost your mind.

“You’re angry.”

He chuckled ruefully and went placid in an instant. “Angry. Mmm... Yes, that is one way to describe it, darlin’. Never more so, as a point of fact.”

Swallowing down tears, if he wouldn’t let you drop your head, at least you could close your eyes.

“No.” His calloused thumb stroked up and down the side of your neck. “No—no, you don’t get to do that. Not with me.”

“Please, Sy!” You burst, holding onto his wrist with both hands. “Please say something! I can’t take it!”

He sniffed and took his hand back, rubbing them together instead of touching you any longer. His broad shoulders lifted and dropped. “Not quite sure what to say.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t look at you, not entirely, so he arched a brow and gave a sideways glance. His voice was rough and deep with more emotion than either of you anticipated. “I was uh… unapproachable?”

Lifting your head from your hands, it made your heart shred into a pulp seeing the lifted brows and pained expression tensing his features. “What?”

“Unapproachable,” he graveled, cursing the emotion that made him choke up. “Fuck. I know I can be direct. I been tryin’ real hard to be gentle with you. Did I give the impression you couldn’t, ya know, tell me things?”

“No, of course not, Sy. I tell you everything.”

His smoldering ember pile only needed a breath of fresh air before it came roaring to life, consuming these new logs you’d placed on top.

“Gotdamn it. You knew this was important to me. The way you carried on, let me believe we had a life together. A future. With our family. Do I even know you?”

Smoke from the fire burning inside him made your eyes sting and water.

“Please, stop it, Sy,” you pleaded, pulling away from his grasp. “Please!”

The flames of anger - or was it hate - turned his pupils dark and made him somehow appear even larger with each deep breath.

“How do I know where the lies stop and you begin?”

Embers of his rage floated in the air and easily took to you like the driest kindling. You exploded unlike you never had before. Fists balled and panting, you squared your shoulders up and shifted your weight.

“You know what? Fine. Here’s the truth: I was barely 18 when the doctor looked at me and said, ‘consider adoption’. I wasn’t even thinking about kids then, only why I had cramps every month but no period.

“We’ve tried correcting hormones for years with so little success I’ve felt like a goddamn science project while my friends moved on, grew up, got married, raised families. Do you know how devastating it is to slog through one of those baby showers? Everyone is so warm and happy, celebrating new life and how their bodies produce something amazing.

“Meanwhile, all I can think about is how if I were to conceive by some fucking miracle, the chances of miscarriage are so high, it’d make more sense to plan some kind of memorial for a child I’ll never meet instead of a cute little fucking baby shower.

“And it’s the one thing you asked of me! What kind of a woman am I that I can’t give you the one thing you wanted?! A broken one. With a broken womb. So yeah, be upset with me. Hate me, Sy. But I promise you’re never gonna catch up. I’ve got years’ worth of a head start hating myself.”

Eyes bleary and completely heartbroken now that he knew your secret, your head dropped and you held it in pain from the headache that exploded from the tension.

You didn’t wait even thirty seconds before he nudged your head back up again with his knuckle. Your chest ached so badly from barely containing the sobbing. The moment you saw his arms were already open waiting for you to fall into, you gasped and let the tears come.

You leaned in an inch and he scooped you up the rest of the way. Helping you settle into his lap, thighs spread over his, he cradled you tenderly to his bare chest, wrapping you up in his entire upper body. Burying your face into his neck, you mewled his name softly when his lips pressed behind your ear.

“Sy, I—“

“Shh shh shh…” his baritone was so deep, you could feel and hear it as he dropped his head low to speak close like it was your own secret space to be alone together. “I’m sorry, sweetness. I know, babygirl, I know. Shh shh…”

Rubbing circles over your back, he gave you time to release through deep sobs some of that suffering you’d been dragging with you.

“I’m disappointed, shh—disappointed we can’t have our own, ‘course. But I think I’m more disappointed that you been upset this whole time over somethin’ we coulda sorted out together. Years ago. Babydoll, it breaks my heart to think of you bein’ this sad. Makes it a hundred times worse if you were upset ‘bout lettin’ me down. And you usin’ that ‘hate’ word in the same breath to describe the love of my life… Geez babygirl, that tears my heart right out my chest.”

Tears streaked down your cheeks. You pressed your palms against his hard as rock chest while he encircled you in his long reach. Tears rimmed his blue eyes as you wordlessly attempted to work out if he planned to let go or hold onto you. Eventually, you collapsed into him, exhausted.

“Look at me, Sweetheart. It’s important. What? Louder. Deep breath and one more time? Oh. No, I know it’s gonna make you cry more but imma make it better, I promise. Lemme see my girl. There she is.”

You sniffled and rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand. Your lips and eyes felt swollen from crying, and your hair was a mess, but he smiled in his soft blue eyes and stroked it back.

“Kids, no kids, doesn’t matter. I wanted you. Ask Parker or any other CO I work with. That very first night I saw you I said, “Imma marry that girl,” and here we are. But since we are married, I wanna know the things goin’ on inside ya. Not just ‘how ya feelin’, are ya hungry, are ya horny’ type stuff.”

You scoffed, kissing his cheek softly. He squeezed your hips tightly, lifting you closer, up higher on his pelvis, angling slightly back onto the pillows. He didn’t want you to get the wrong idea, but your heat, wiggling in his lap, and that you were starting to let go of some things inexplicably made the blood rush to his groin. You’d feel it in a second if he didn’t adjust your seating situation and lie back with you a bit.

“You’re not ‘broken’, sweets. And I don’t ever want to hear ya talkin’ ‘bout my girl like ‘at. You’re all woman, an’ the only one for me. You locked that right down in that pretty blue dress down on the pier years ago. Was it yellow? Nah. Really? With the little red… Huh. Color blind or not, this heart ain’t even mine no more so best be lookin’ after it. Yeah, you can cry now. Come here, babygirl. Daddy’s got you.”

When most of the tears were shed, he thumbed the dimples right above your panty line, just under the back of his lifted shirt you wore. Soothed very nearly to sleep, your fingers wound their way through his hair. He sighed letting his head fall back into your hands; he always loved when you scritched him like a puppy. Wrapping both hands behind your thighs, he held you in place, pressed to him and straightened up his neck when he really enjoyed what you were doing to him.

“Right there?” you cooed softly, raking your nails through his hair, down to the nape of his neck.

“Mmph,” he grunted affirmatively, tipping his chin down. He found one button on the shirt you wore straining against the fabric, exposing your bare skin right in front of his face. So he nuzzled into it. The unexpected tickle of his beard when he kissed inside made you gasp and arch back.

“Hey!” you squeaked and a mischievous smirk flashed across his face. He looped a finger inside his red flannel, releasing the fabric right below your belly button.

His eyes flashed up at you again as he pressed his mouth to your belly, swirling his thumbs in circles over your hips when he slid them inside the oversized flannel draped loosely on your body.

You closed your eyes, curling your fingers in his hair, and listened to the sound of the deliberate, wet kisses he placed from one hip to the other.

Hugging just under the curve of your behind, he ran his scratchy beard against your sensitive skin, but you still cradled the back of his head to you just the same. Finally kissing down to the apex of your sex, using his tongue to moisten the spot first, he placed a slow, suckling kiss that made your clit pulse and hips jerk involuntary.

“Sorry,” you mewled, pawing his hair. His jaw tensed and head lifted just slightly when your body responded so abruptly.

He nuzzled your skin and arched a brow up at you. “Don't be sorry, babygirl. Are you gonna let Daddy make ya feel good?”

A darkness fell across your features hearing that particular pet name for him. You tugged the shirt together.

“I don’t think I can do this, Sy. It’d be the first time not trying for... I can’t think about the… the emptiness. Feels like I’m giving something away too soon.”

“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, collecting your hand from his shoulder. “Tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you.”

“Time… I guess. And you. Fuck, Sy. I must sound crazy. The way I’m talking, it’s like somebody died.

Here I am going on when you’ve actually witnessed people die.

I don’t want to diminish what you’ve been through with my nonsense.

Of course we need to do this.

We need to do this.

I want this.

I need you.

I need us.

I need this.

Fuck me, Captain.

Fuck me senseless.”

You made quick work shrugging out of his shirt and wrapped both arms around his thick neck. Fisting the mattress, he shouldered your ribs so quickly, it knocked you right off balance and onto his arm. Gripping under one of your thighs, he used that massive upper body strength of his to lie you back gently onto the mattress, holding your whole body up with just one arm.

As he eased you down onto your back, you went quiet and he leaned on his elbow to look down over you.

You stared up at the red blinking light on the smoke detector a long time while he pressed his large forearm down against your chest, between your breasts, and spread his palm over your sternum, attempting to give you an anchor point. Your arms laid limp, one above your head, one at your side, almost like you were having a nightmare except wide awake.

He’d seen that vacant look in the eyes of fresh infantry grunts after their first real battle and brush with death. But he never thought he expected to see it stateside, in the eyes of his wife.

Doing what felt natural to do, after all he was trained for it, he dropped his voice and redirected your attention.

“Eyes on me, darlin’. I know you’re feelin’ pretty rough inside. Grief is grief however it comes. Yeah, it’ll take time. But that’s why you’ve got your Unit to fall back on. Unit of two, you an’ me. Makes us a pretty elite team. I’ll do some of the heavy lifting for ya now that I know what we’re working with. I need ya to stay with me though, yeah?”

“Unit of two. I like it. Will you ever… Oh Sy, will you ever touch me like that again?”

He frowned, wrinkles lining his forehead. “Sweets, hell nor high water gonna keep me from lovin’ on you.”

*

Three months later, you returned home from a walk with the new puppy to find Sy standing in the front lawn, one hand on his hip and the other waving at the delivery truck to keep backing up.

“More wood?” you called from across the street over the roar of the diesel truck lift dropping green treated lumber along the side of the house. While your husband signed off on the delivery, you crossed to meet him in the grass with the puppy under your arm.

Looping a sweaty arm around you, he pulled you in by the hip and kissed the crown of your head.

“Thank ya, sir. See ya’ next Saturday,” Sy smiled behind his reflective sunglasses, shaking the driver’s hand.

“Next Saturday?” you repeated, glancing over your shoulder at the new pile of lumber that had been dwindling as he completed projects. Or at least it was. “I thought the treehouse was done, my love.”

“Oh, it is. Come have a look see.” He dwarfed your hand in his, taking you to the sprawling backyard. His truck was parked at an angle on the lawn with his tools laid out in the back and sketches drawn all over sheets on the hood.

Leaning in with his hip, he showed you his drawings, motioning with his hands as to where they should be or already were in the yard.

“Swing set? Done. Slides over there? Done. High and low bars - also done. Rope bridge, climbing apparatus, bouncer thing, treehouse, done.”

Tilting your face, you bumped your head against his chest appreciatively and he smirked. “I want to build out chairs that flip down on the deck. Not sure on the height is all. I don’t suppose you have any input?”

“All the social worker has said is to plan on three siblings from upstate. Two boys and a girl, between the ages of 5 and 10. Sorry I don’t have any help as far as height goes. I think we are more than ready for the little ones next week, Sy. Why don’t you come inside and cool down with me?”

Scratching the back of his neck, he glanced over his shoulder at the freshly installed fence blocking the neighbors’ view. “Better idea, babygirl. How ‘bout we give those swings a try first. Should hold both our weight, I reckon.”

Arching a brow, you folded your arms across your chest, pretending to be annoyed. “Oh, you ‘reckon,’ hm?” you repeated, patting his sweaty chest through his tank top. “Bear, we already have a sex swing upstairs.”

“Yeahhhhh...” he drawled, giving you his most sly smirk, “but this one is outdoors.”

“Captain! I can’t believe you!” you gasped, touching your imaginary pearls before pushing off the wall of muscle your husband provided when he folded his arms across his chest, launching yourself into a dead sprint across the grass toward the swing set. “Ladies first!!”

He chuckled, and jogged behind. “’Course, babygirl.”

~

Masterlist

[nationalharryleague]

In the Long Green Grass

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: the fluffiest fluff with husband!harry  

Word count: 2K

A/N: Hi everyone!! Merry Christmas to all that celebrate!! this is my Secret Santa (run and organized by the lovely lu (@meetmymouth​) gift to the sweetest angel who walks among us miss hasibi (@peachybloomss​)!!! I hope you enjoy it my love!!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist and I would love to hear what everyone thinks in my ask! Thank you so much for reading!! 

*** 

You were stirred by the sounds of the waves crashing against the cliff outside the home as the early morning sun streamed in through the windows. A small huf and whine left your lips, always one to ask for just five more minutes in bed, before you climbed from underneath the warm plush blankets and your toes hit the icy and worn wood floors beneath you.

The buttery yellow sunlight thwarted your plans to fight yourself back to sleep for those last few moments, prompting you to reach out your arms in a longing stretch. You released a light and sleepy hum of surprise when your arm hit a tiny furry body, and not the arm of the man who loved to sleep late in the bed beside you. Peeping one eye open, you made eye contact with Piper, Harry’s small jet black cat with glowing green eyes who was laying next to you, curled up on sheets that still held the indent of his body in them.

Piper wore a face of annoyance, obviously blaming you for interrupting her precious beauty sleep, and her eyes followed your body as you forced yourself out of the bed with one goal: find Harry.

Harry had a habit of disappearing, especially in a new place where there was just so much to explore. He was a wanderer (and an aquarius); always on the move, carried along by a thought or idea he just couldn’t resist. It was hard for him to sit still, a trait he probably picked up after tour after tour after tour, never allowing himself the luxury of rest or relaxation after it was never allowed to him. That was why you had insisted he needed time away from the city, finding a perfect spot in a small cottage that sat on the edge of a cliff along the ocean with a back garden full of sweet smelling flowers and tall cushony grass.

You tiptoed carefully down the spiral staircase that lovingly let out groans underfoot, still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, into a kitchen that looked straight out of a fairytale. It was small with moss green cabinets and large bay windows that filled the space with light that kept the seemingly hundreds of plants in the house happy and thriving. A cool ocean breeze came in through the open windows of the small breakfast nook, bringing along the scent of a fresh pot of coffee that sat on the butcher block countertops like it had been waiting for you to wake all along. While you felt a jump of excitement within you for the coffee, it still hadn’t been what (or who) you were looking for, even though you were very glad you found it.

A sweet cup of coffee was thoughtfully prepared in a tea cup you had found in the cabinet with small wisteria flowers painted around it’s rim. You knew Harry would poke fun at your cup choice if he were there. “Tea cups are for tea,” you could hear him say, perking up the edges of your mouth into a gentle smile as you sipped it carefully. But the flowers reminded you of the beautiful wisteria tree that flowed in the wind and scattered it’s petals all over the back garden; you just couldn’t pass it up.

It took you quite a while to find him, even with the new found caffeinated energy running through your system. You had run into the two other cats at the house, both rather chubby tabbys named Jack and Gus, that called this back garden home on your search and you obviously had to say good morning. The two rubbed themselves up against your legs, begging for a scratch behind the ear and a bit of attention, and you obliged. Who were you to deny them of it?

The garden the cats got to call home was a dream. It was filled with every variety of colorful flower imaginable and blanketed in a sweet air that always hovered over the space. Your favorites were the small peachy blooms that smelled of sugary perfume. A stone fence ran the perimeter of the yard, a white picket fence in the middle opening to a swath of overgrown grass that swayed in the wind on a hill. If you squinted, you could see the house of the couple you were renting the cottage from, but they were far enough away it felt like you were the only people around for miles.

When you spotted a Harry-shaped hole in the tall grass up the hill, you had a sneaking suspicion you had found your missing husband.

The tall grass squished beneath your feet as you climbed the hill, creating a soft padding below, and the long blades tickled against your bare legs as you made your way towards him, still only dressed in one of his perfectly worn t-shirts from the night before.

“There you are,” you hummed happily when you reached him, standing above him as he layed in the grass. “I thought that I lost you.”

He looked like a renaissance painting as he laid in the grass that was dotted with small pink and purple wildflowers. His curls had gotten a little longer during his much needed break and they splayed out around his head in delicate ringlets like a halo. The light from the still rising sun bounced off his slightly dewy skin, giving him a glow that lit him up even more than usual. Stubble danced across his cheeks and jaw, framing his perfectly pink lips that held a gentle smile as he looked up at you from the ground. And his eyes squinted slightly, shielding his pupils from the ever growing brightness of the sky, creating delicate little wrinkles around his sea glass green eyes that looked so vibrant in the light.

A worn book that you hadn’t seen before, bound in dark green leather with gold detailing, sat on his chest; Poems for Lovers: A Collection was embossed delicately across the cover.

“You’ll never lose me,” he mumbled up at you, a gravel in his voice like it was the first time he had used it that day. You had been married for almost two years and had been together for five, but your cheeks never failed to redden when he spoke sweet nothings like that. “Good morning, angel,” he said softly, reaching his hand up for yours.

You moved to place your hand in his, but ended up only linking your pinkies together in the process; a light tug from the man below you signaled for you to join him on the ground. You couldn’t resist, sitting yourself down with your legs crossed in front of you on the slightly damp ground next to him, pinkies still locked together.

“Morning,” you greeted. “I missed you in bed. Piper isn’t much of a cuddler,” you chuckled while absentmindedly playing with his fingers, twirling his wedding band.

“She’s not very nice, is she?” he smiled, opening his eyes fully to meet yours as you strategically moved your body to block his delicate eyes from the sun. “I’m sorry my cat’s a bitch,” he joked. “She still thinks she’s my number one girl.”

“I tell her I’m sorry that I stole her spot in bed all the time, she never listens. Won’t even have a civil chat with me about it,” you teased sarcastically.

Harry let out an enthusiastic giggle at your words; it was high pitched, and came from his belly in loud bursts of air. His cheeks scrunched up and forced his eyes closed because he was smiling so wide, crinkling the corners of his eyes once again. His laughter was infectious and you couldn’t help but join in.

You two must have looked insane, sitting in the grass in a field in the middle of nowhere just after dawn, laughing like idiots. But you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Well, a few more hours of sleep wouldn’t have hurt.

As your gigges died down, you turned your attention to the book resting on his chest. “You ditched me in bed for a book?” you teased, letting the remaining laughter escape your body.

“I couldn’t sleep and I found it on one of the bookshelves. I thought it would be nice to read in the grass and watch the sun come up.”

“You should have woken me up. I could have thought of a few things we could have done to tire you out.” A smirk played on your lips as you tapped your chin, pretending to think, as you watched his eyes grow in amusement from your innuendo.

“You looked too peaceful sleeping. Also, drool and bedhead don’t really turn me on if I’m being honest.” It was your turn to react to his teasing.

Your jaw dropped in feigned offence and your finger flew over your shoulder to point back at the cottage. “I can go back if you’d like your privacy,” you said incredulously and with dramatics, until a few chuckles broke through and your resolve softened once again.

“Oh no no no,” he spoke with a grin, “come here,” moving the book and tapping his chest for you to rest your head on. You turned yourself around to lay yourself on the ground, placing your head on his chest and listening to his steady and calming heartbeat.

“How are your poems?” you asked, referencing the book he was now holding in his hands.

“They are very good. I’m glad I found it.” His voice reverberated under your head as he spoke, and you rose and fell softly with his breath.

“Read me your favorite.”

“Okay,” he began, thumbing through the pages as he held the book above both your heads. You listened as he let out a small “ah, here it is,” before he dramatically cleared his throat. “You might remember me talking about this one already, but I love it.”

You knew he loved it before he even began reading anything. He loved his poetry, especially when they were about love. Harry was a hopeless romantic at heart, often saying to you and interviewers “I just love love.” He loved falling in love with you and becoming a team, just as much as you did with him.

“It’s called The Wait,” he spoke gently, his voice taking on a deeper and more enunciated quality. You recognized the poem immediately, as it was the one referenced on his pants for the Vogue cover shoot. He had dedicated it to you then, and was doing it again now in the grass. “It seemed like years before I picked a bouquet of kisses off her mouth and put them into a dawn-colored vase in my heart,” he began. He spoke slowly and smoothly with the consistency and sweetness of honey. “But the wait was worth it,” he continued. “Because I was in love.”

You couldn’t help but think of your own story as he read. He had chased after you for years, with you always insisting that he was your best friend and you were afraid to ruin that. But gradually, your best friend became your lover, and your lover became your husband.

“I like that one a lot too.” You spoke softly and with reflection. “It reminds me of us.”

“That’s why it’s my favorite.”

You two layed in the grass for hours, not a care in the world, as he read from the book. Every poem took you two on a journey into a love story, one that for the two of you only existed on the page, but told of a very real love that couldn’t have been dishonestly written.

But with how you felt in the moment, with the joy and loving warmth you felt in your belly, you were sure you could write a million poems about the love you had with him.

Thank you so much for reading!! Reblogs/feedback mean the world!!! 

[redux-iterum]

A Kindling: Chapter Three

(AO3 counterpart here.)

“Shut up.”

“Yep.”

“Shut up.”

“Yep!”

Rusty was tickled by Smudge’s expression—mouth dropped open enough to catch a ball, eyes wide as Rusty’s paw. Smudge had listened to his story in complete disbelief, and now was visibly reeling from Rusty’s adventure.

“And they actually meant it,” Smudge said at last.

“I mean, I don’t know why they’d offer if they didn’t want me there.” Rusty’s chest was filled to bursting with excitement. He couldn’t help tip-tapping his feet to release the energy. “But Smudge, the forest—the smells, the plants—it’s amazing there! If I could—”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Smudge held up a paw and shook his head. “You can’t be taking this seriously.”

“Well, they meant it, right?” Rusty said, purring in delight. “So I am!”

“No, not just that they offered it.” Smudge leaned forward, looking alarmed. “You can’t just leave and bugger off into the woods! We have no idea what’s out there. You could get killed, you could get sick, or starve, or—”

He cut himself off, eyes searching Rusty’s face, desperate. The excitement in Rusty’s chest settled down immediately and he softened his voice.

“It’s a possibility,” he said. “I know. But… honestly, I’m willing to take those risks. It’s just…” He looked up and a little sideways, searching for the right words. “It’s not horrible here, but I’m not… I feel like I could be doing more. Seeing more. Just living in this neighborhood, it’s not…”

“Fulfilling?” Smudge offered unhappily.

Rusty nodded.

Smudge looked crestfallen; he didn’t even meet Rusty’s eyes. He drew in a big breath and let out a heavy sigh.

“If you go, we can never talk again,” he said, quiet. “Your new friends won’t let you see me. I’ll have no idea if you’re doing okay or not. Or if you’re even still alive.”

Rusty lifted a paw, halfway to reaching out to Smudge, then retracted it. “It won’t be all bad. I can at least walk by the border once in a while and wave to you.” He tried a more cheerful tone. “And I’ll know that you’re safe in your house, getting fatter and comfier by the day, right? You aren’t going anywhere.”

Smudge made a breathy noise that could have been amused, but he still didn’t look up at Rusty.

Rusty tried again. “I just don’t know if this is the life for me. When I went into the forest… it was like a part of me woke up. I started hunting without knowing what I was going after. It felt natural.” The recollection stirred excitement in his blood, and his voice took on a tone of wonder. “If the Clan cats hadn’t shown up, I-I don’t know! I might not have come back. Not for a while. There’s so much to see in the world, in that forest alone. It doesn’t scare me. Maybe it should, but it doesn’t.”

Smudge’s eyes flicked up to him. Rusty reached out again and rested a paw on Smudge’s head, trying to be comforting. Honesty came out instead.

“I don’t know what could happen to me,” he said. “Or what will happen to me. I could die, yeah, but I don’t know for sure. And I like that. It feels like being alive. Here it just feels… the opposite.” He tilted his head. “Does that make any sense?”

Smudge’s eyes drifted down again, and for a moment Rusty was afraid he’d lost him. Then, slowly, he raised his head. Rusty quickly took his paw away and waited as Smudge regarded him with a sadness he had not seen in his friend before.

“You never were content here,” Smudge finally said. “Even when I first met you. That’s why you wandered all over and pestered everyone by going into their yards. Your home wasn’t enough.”

“Right,” Rusty said softly.

Smudge briefly shut his eyes and sighed again. His sadness was now a little more affectionate.

“I guess…” he started, paused, and then, again, “I guess I’m not willing to stop you from being happy. If you want to be with those ferals… if you really want to live out there and risk your life… if that’ll make you happy, then maybe you should do it.”

Rusty purred, halfway between pleased and trying to comfort his friend. “Thank you. I’m sorry that I have to leave you behind. I really am. I wish they’d let me talk to you, at least.”

“Eh.” Smudge waved a paw with a blatantly false casualness. “I’ve got plenty of cats to talk to here. And you certainly will have company, if they’re really a group.”

An idea came to Rusty. “Maybe… maybe my human will get another cat, and they’ll be even better friends with you than I could ever be.”

“I doubt that,” Smudge said fondly. “You’re pretty awesome. Hard to top.”

Rusty’s tail curled. “Thanks!”

“And I’m pretty awesome too,” Smudge prompted, somewhat sarcastic.

“You’re very awesome.” Rusty stood up and bumped his head against Smudge’s shoulder. “Here, let’s meet at noon tomorrow. We should hang out and play as much as we can before I go.”

“That’s a good idea.” Smudge returned the gesture. “In the meantime, I’m going to sleep. So should you. It’s late and I’m tired from all this life-changing talk.”

Rusty snorted and turned, waving his tail. “I’ll see you here tomorrow.”

“Sleep well,” Smudge said, and a bit of unhappiness crept into his voice again. Before Rusty could say anything, he clumsily hopped off the fence and plopped onto the cut grass, trotting back into his house. Rusty could hear his human cooing over him and shaking a kibble bowl.

Rusty didn’t feel like going to sleep. He felt like running straight into the forest again and calling for the Clan cats to let him join them now. Some small, reasonable thing in the back of his head reminded him that he should still be thinking things over, but the greater part of him was fluffing out his fur in a pre-emptive thrill of exploring the woods. His tail wagged up and almost over his back, and his paws kneaded at the chipped paint on the fence.

His mind ran wild as he returned to his yard, scenario after scenario making him forget the irritating clipped grass beneath his feet. Those cats were giant—would they all be taller than him? Would the kittens be taller? How many members of the Clan were there? How long would it take him to see every step of the forest? What about the other Clans that were mentioned? What were they like? Would he get to meet them?

The possibilities made him shiver in delight. The bell on his collar jingled tauntingly and his delight vanished in an instant, replaced by irritation.

Right, he thought. One other thing to do before I leave.

He stepped through the door-flap, pawing at his collar every other step. It wasn’t particularly tight—his neck was too skinny for that���but it wouldn’t go over his head. A few paces into the house, he sat down and started pushing at it with his back foot, trying with all his might to squeeze his head through the gap. The metal clasp dug into his throat and it became difficult to breathe. The back of the collar pressed against his head, touching his ears. He unconsciously let out a frustrated growl (strained a little by his current situation).

At this, there was a shift of cloth. When he looked up, his owner was walking towards him from the living room and into the kitchen. They crouched down in front of him and tilted their head, making high-pitched, soothing noises.

Rusty stopped struggling and met their eyes. It occurred to him that he had never quite paid attention to them before, couldn’t remember their face—had never even studied their face, really. The moon had vanished and reappeared since he had come here, and it was only now that he realized his owner’s eyes were dark and soft.

Perhaps that was a sign that he should leave.

Rusty was jarred out of his thoughts when their hands came to circle his neck and began fiddling with his collar. He sat still, waiting politely until the collar was unbuckled and lifted away. The human spoke again, a little louder and sweeter, and gently scratched around where the collar had been. He thanked them with a purr and rubbed his cheek against their hand, though the gesture meant little to him. They stood again and walked away, setting the collar down on the counter before moving back into the living room and sitting down on their chair.

Rusty watched them distantly, the image of some animal running around on their lit box. He stood up and slowly turned his head, observing his surroundings. It was all flat and even and perfectly curved or cut with an exact line. The floor under his feet was cold and completely smooth. The air in the kitchen was stiff and a little too warm. The one or two smells he could pick up were stale (his kibble) and nastily foreign (whatever flowers were sitting at the windowsill).

It was plain, he thought. Simple. It was no wonder he had been blown away by the forest—there was so much to it. Here…

Smudge had given him the right word. It wasn’t fulfilling. It was nothing. A life of nothing, he thought, was not one he wanted to live.

  At noon, Rusty jumped onto the rail splitting his yard from Smudge’s. His faithful friend was sitting on the grass, looking morose. Rusty called his name and the look faded instantly when Smudge noticed him.

“I was worried you were going to sleep in again,” he said as Rusty jumped down into his yard. “You haven’t happened to change your mind, have you?”

“I’m afraid not.” Rusty offered an apologetic half-crouch when Smudge hung his head. “But we still have time. What do you want to do?”

“Well…” Smudge stood up. “If you’re about to go, we should go around the neighborhood and say ‘bye’ to the few cats you haven’t annoyed by intruding.”

“They’ll be thrilled that I’m gone.” Rusty puffed out a jokingly dramatic sigh. “I think you’re the only one that will miss me.”

“Then we should get one last pester in,” Smudge said. His tail, still kitten-short for his size, thwapped Rusty’s back leg. “What did the homebody call it? ‘Blaze of glory’ or something.”

“That’s for when you’re about to die.” Rusty led the way to the fence and climbed up again with ease. He turned around and waited for Smudge.

“Where you’re going, that might be appropriate,” Smudge muttered as he clambered after Rusty, making a cheerful face when Rusty gave him a pretend-irritated look.

Once Smudge was on the rail, Rusty led the way down the row of yards, his tail high. Saying farewell to everyone, he realized, was not going to be as sad as he might have thought. To him, it was just a symbol of his transition into his new life.

He just hoped that everyone in the Clan liked him more than everyone in the neighborhood did.

[c4-weeb]

Obey me boy head cannons!

Skater!Mc x the demon boys + undateables!

Alright so background! Human mc had invited one of the boys to go to a skating rink with her in the human world, since she is one of the main racers and a very frequent attendee at the place since she was 10. She knows the regular skaters and owners pretty well. Shes held with high respect there and is pretty talented. She has skate races and a whole team of great skaters, so what happens when one day she invites one of the boys to go on a date/ support her during a competitive roller derby? Also please do keep in mind I'm taking inspiration off the monster high roller derby cause that race was pretty cool and difficult to do so make it more modernized and human. You know... no swinging axes or kraken's trying to grab you as you skate. Though in reality that sounds like something Diavolo would put together for devildom roller derby's...

Lucifer

When he heard you beg him to come support you for your first race back in the human world he was a little taken aback. A roller derby? Him? I mean he wasn't going to be the loudest but he did find the thought of watching them succeed and wanting his praise amusing nonetheless....

....in reality he missed the Mc dearly and would appreciate the time with them, but he'd never say so out loud.

When you looked up to him from the stands he smirked at you, the pressure was on... that smirk was the one of judgement and "let's see how you do" which wracked your nerves with enough anxiety that it helped fuel the fire to make sure you succeeded.

When the Mc took off, being shoved by people bigger than her on each side, he was surprised when you fell back and the two idiots collided and she hopped over with ease and sped towards the front with amazing speed.

When The Mc and their team won, she came speeding to him and hugged him from behind and thanked him.

Later he took you out to eat in congratulations, the smile on your face from getting praise and food? All the stress from the day was relieved by that small gesture.

"I dont know why I thought I had finally found out everything I could about you, yet you just keep surprising me...."

Mammon

When the you asked for his support during a casual race at your local skating rink, with just your team mates going against eachother in a regular speed skate with a few obstacles, he wasnt so interested, saying he wants money in return for his support, when in reality he would have went anyways. But when you told him that since it was a casual race, people could bet on the racers, he agreed so fast and even begged to be summoned right then and there.

Expect him to be screaming at the top of his lungs for you to win

Isnt against calling you baby this loud in public

May or may not have tried climbing the fence when you got pushed

Definitely bet on you, and a huge sum of money too. So much faith 😭❤

Once you've won expect him to come flying at you, poor baby forgot you where on skates tho so you'd end up falling backwards to your friends amusement of your cuddly demon.

Tried threatening the owners to do another race so he could get money and failed

Sulked till you dragged him by the hand to skate in the neon lights since most people left it was just you two

Later he would drag you to either go to bet on races with him to gain more money or go to shower you in gifts, really depended on how well you could convince him to not go gambling, which had a 50/50 success rate.

"If I'm not going to get more money I might as well shower you in what I have, make you the prettiest gem for the whole world to see!" "Mammon you only won 200 dollars not a mil-" "sh, sh, shhhhh, shhh, no arguing! The Great Mammon is going to treat his treasure right tonight, ya' hear!?"

Leviathan

Now getting this otaku outta his room was an absolute struggle. So like a cat trapping their preh, you had to summon him to your house and put a blindfold on him for a special surprise.

Dragged his unsocial ass to the car and road down to the skate rink and took off his blind fold once you both got inside.

It took a lot of coaxing, but you finally got him to calm down enough to get a pair of skates.

If your skater friends said hi to him he'd hide by your arm like a scared 5 year old

The jealousy he felt of everyone in the room was unbelievable, because the poor boy has no balance for skating. On wheels or ice, his body just refuses.

You offered to help him learn and the poor boys face was fuming red, thankfully the neon lights and darkness hid it well.

He held onto your hand for balance throughout the whole date, only stopping to eat some pizza and play some arcade games.

After a few hours you headed back to your house to binge some Starwars, wanting to watch something different with him.....which eventually led to the both of you getting bored and going back to the new ruri-chan movie you guys binged countless amount of times on the phone together.

"H-hey! Hold on you're going t-too fast! No now you're so close I-....um... ack everyone can see us...so many people... but its worth it to show that your mine!"

Satan

Now Satan isnt much of a skater, nor a loud supporter, but with enough coaxing you finally got him to at least try and relax with you, doing a nice small couple's night at the skate rink

Really wanted to try human customs with you so there was little resistance

He would hold their hand as you'd skate

Even think of skating away from him and he will chase after you

This man's rage in his bones makes him a natural speed skater

Will tickle you when he catches you, starts a very one sided tickle war tho

If you wanna sit down, it's going to be in his lap, no rejections.

Will find it adorable if your friends make fun of how blushy you're getting as you hide in his chest

"Come now kitten, dont run away or I'm going to tickle you so hard that your face will hurt too much to smile at anyone else but me"

Asmodeus

This sweet baby was already dragging you to your room to glamor you up before the race.

Honey no need to say anything, he will make you the most gorgeous skater just tell him the vibes you wanna give off and he will hit the nail straight on the head and match your aesthetic.

Best expect victory photos.

Will record your victory and show it off to the group chat with the brothers.

Absolutely head over heels for you, hanging off your body in a hug and then going for a really close skate together

Might try to convince you to have some celebratory seggs but will 100% be making it known how much you excited him.

"Sweetheart look at all the likes our photos are getting! Everyone's congratulating you! Awe look at how viral my baby is! That was a VERY thrilling experience watching you, and you do need to take care of that body....shall we take this home and undress you so I can congratulate you the right way~♡?"

Beezlebub

Immediately agreed when you brought it up that you wanted to bring him to the skate rink, someplace you enjoyed going.

He knew skating was like a work out but was worried about finding skates his size there so he brought his own customized skates.

You better have snacks cause baby is gonna be starving.

Thankfully since you also work there and know the owners, you where allowed to hop over and take his order, putting it on your tab. 4 pizzas 2 Turkey legs 7 hotdogs and a pint of water (remember to stay hydrated)

If you bumped into a few of your friends and he WILL get along with them. He wants to be apart of your life, all of it, so he'll make it a point to get along with everyone in it for your sake.

If you ever look like you're going to fall he will be so close behind you it would be like slipping and falling back onto a brick wall who grabs you before you hit the floor.

If you fall forward he will grab your shirt but try not to choke you in the process

(If you do choke poor baby with be hugging you apologizing profusely)

You two try racing eachother but no matter what you dont win cause hes just too fast

Finds you challenging him over and over endearing and adorable.

"You're so adorable when you're chasing after me trying to win, but I'm hungry now...can we go eat again?"

Belphegor

Will complain once you ask him to go skating for date night in the human world

Wont stop till he finds out it has a sunroof along with the neon lights so he can look at the stars while skating with you.

Will only skate for an hour or two then passes out on your lap

Will not help at all when you fall, just laughs cause he is probably the reason you fell in the first place.

When hes skating he will take your hand in his the whole time and sorta lean on your shoulder while skating from behind you.

You two will stop periodically to sit at the small felt covered benches in the rink to look up at the stars (may or may not fall asleep on your shoulder so you're stuck there with him sleeping for 20 minutes)

You will be the last ones out

Must grab some food for Beel cause belphie promised to bring him home food.

Skating (more like you dragging him by the hand while hes in skates)back to your place and looking at the stars together at like 3am

Wont go back till he can officially cuddle you till the morning and leaves at 11am

"Hey look...theres Ursa major...*yawn* come on let's sit down again, I'm tired..."

Luke (only as siblings you take him skating)

Doesnt know how to skate

You end up teaching him and hes the happiest little boy ever.

If you take him to a race he'll be all worried that you got a scratch and starts to get protective over you when the person who pushed you comes near

Definitely eating cotton candy

Playing claw machines and you win him a stuffed piggy and he holds it near and dear to his heart cause it's from you

"Mc! Mc! Look I'm doing it! I'm skating! Sir oinkers and me are skating together! Thank you so much haha!"

Simeon

Happily joins to cheer you on during your races everytime. Got a race? Simeon will be there.

If you dont win he will comfort you and make the best of the situation by taking you to the food bar till it turns to a free skate again.

If you're injured he will pamper you and be ready with his first aid. Little angel kisses on every scrap and bruise.

So many forehead kisses of encouragement and praise 🥺😭

Can speed skate, so if you want to practice he'll help but if you want to relax he'll do that too.

Inlines? Regular skates? No matter what hes great at them.

Somehow he has great luck and every stuffie you showed interest in or every candy or prize there was that you would even look at, he would win on the first try.

"Dont worry! I'll carry it all. You just relax alright? You got pretty bruised from that fall."

Barbatos

Getting this man to stop working and go on a date will need a ton of patience, even Lord Diavolo has to convince him the little d's will do their jobs right while hes away.

Will take care of every scrape and bruise you get.

Man has glowsticks prepared to cheer you on

When it turns back to a free skate he will try his best to impress you and teach you little tricks he's picked up in his many years.

You try to convince him to eat some of the food there and he will politely decline and proceed to take you out to a nice fancy, but quaint restaurant.

"You were really quick to dodge them back there, yet you still got a few bruises, truly amazing for humans to get to that speed and dodge so fast. You're really a fascinating one arent you?"

Lord Diavolo

This man.... he made SIGNS

WILL be hollering when you win

The loudest in the stands

Glowsticks, glowing necklaces, bracelets, man is even wearing a glowing necklace around his head for you, glowing head to toe

So happy and proud 🥺😭❤

Definitely brought barbatos to help hold up the glittery signs him and the little d's made

Barbatos will leave with the signs after congratulating you and leaving you two to your date.

He will be a little off balanced when first skating cause the man went straight for the inlines 😂

Will be smiling the whole time, nothing can or will ruin it.

Absolutely in love with the skate rink because of you and even wants to add a few to the devildom so they can hold tournaments like the one you where in

Can get sad if he cant get you a stuffed animal while you're in the bathroom so he summons Barbatos again to help him while you're away.

Sends Barbatos away so you wont know he helped him get the prizes

Ends up getting you 6 stuffies and a phone case that doesnt fit your phone but it's the thought that counts right?

You win him a medium sized dragon from the claw machine and he sleeps with it every night and loves it like it's your guy's kid.

If he meets your friends he will find out just how much you've missed him as you get embarrassed, makes a mental note to see you once a week after that encounter.

Will eat 2 Turkey legs as you eat a slice of pizza and share a pitcher of soda with him

(He makes a mess of his face so you clean it off for him)

Will not want to leave and go back to the devildom so he'll insist on staying the rest of the night and walks you home

Will. NOT. LEAVEEEE! Master of excuses for why he should stay.

"But I dont want to leave! Theres still so much to do!" "Can I at least see your house?" "I wont leave until I see you're safe at home!" "Please can I stay the night, I miss having you wake up in my arms." "I want to see the morning sun rise with you before I go back"

[tevanavernus]

Saudade - Chapter 1.

||Prologue||

Summary: "Saudade" - A nostalgic longing for a person or thing that was loved once, but is now lost.

Helmut Zemo's life was forever changed when the Avengers picked his country as a personal playground to fight their own creations. He would never regain the pieces of his life where he was a husband and a father of two. But the existence of new Super Soldiers might just bring him closer to that life he once had than he ever thought was possible. Madripoor holds secrets that even Baron Zemo does not know about.

Word Count: 6.2k

Helmut led them deeper into the garage where his personal collection was stored. Flicking the lights on, he was met with a couple of rows of his favourite antique cars. Just like he left them years ago. It wasn't all of his collection, the remaining couple of dozen were hidden away in other parts of the world. He made a mental note to thank to whoever kept the place cleaned and the cars taken care of. From an initial glance, all of them were spotless, just how he liked them.

"So our first move is grand theft auto?" Sam asked, crossing his arms the moment the light came on.

"These are mine. Collected by the family over the generations." Helmut explained as he pulled open the lid of the trunk. Some of the cars dated back all the way to pre-WW2. He could still remember his father showing him the collection when he was a young man himself. It was a tradition of a sort, in their family. A tradition that he carried on with Nic and was planning to do with Carl once he was older. Years down the line, the same cars, amongst others, were going to be split and passed down equally between them. Now, they would forever be in his collection. He supposed the traditions along with the family name would end with him.

Helmut glanced down at the trunk of the 1946 Packard Clipper that was filled with weapons, knives, and ammunition. He scanned through them all, considering what to take. Some of it will be useful, especially the ones that he could conceal easily. Hearing the doors of other cars being opened, he tilted his head towards Sam and James but refrained from making a comment. Sam chuckled from somewhere behind Helmut, making him turn to him. Sam pulled back from the 1934 Packard Twelve Series 1106 that he was checking out.

"Hey Zemo," He called out, grinning at whatever he was holding in his hand. "Have been secretly a fan-boy all along and were pissed we didn't invite you to hang out?"

"May I?" Helmut asked as he extended his hand. He had a suspicion of what it was already but wanted to see it himself.

"You should keep it. Really brings out your good side." Sam bit out sarcastically and lightly threw it across the couple of feet that were between them.

Helmut caught it easily and opened his palm to see a scratched-up keychain of Iron-Man's helmet. It was light, made of cheap metal, with nearly reflective orange and red paint.

"Huh," he muttered lowly, turning it around a couple of times. The key chain was an old, cheap trinket. He couldn't even remember where Carl picked it up. Their city wasn't exactly in support of Iron man even before the Ultron mess so he doubted it was in Novi Grad. "It belonged to my son. My eldest stole it from him, she liked to do that when they were fighting. I imagine there was another fight over the fact that she lost it."

"Put it away before you lose it," Helmut told her the moment he noticed it dangling from her pocket. "What is it with you and stealing Carl's things?"

"I'm not going to lose it." Nic rolled her eyes and grabbed it. Throwing it to the holder inside the car door she turned to him. "See?"

"Hold up," Sam cut in, pulling Helmut's attention back to him. "You have kids?"

"Had, until your friends showed up. Why does this surprise you? I had a life outside of work." Helmut asked as he ran his thumb across the keychain before putting it into his pocket. It held no value or use, just a small sentimental trinket, he should throw it out.

"Don't get sassy with me, man. If you drop a bomb on us like this, I'm gonna have questions." Sam rolled his eyes, shutting the door harder than it was necessary. Rude.

"As we all do I imagine. Curiosity is wired into our genes after all-"

"Not the time." James interrupted their conversation.

"Right, as I was saying," Helmut cleared his throat and went over to the yellow 1934 SS1 Jaguar where he knew he stored his coat. It was a nice coat. Warm, great quality leather with soft fur around the neck. Ivana loved to steal it and drop it over her shoulders the moment he looked away even for a second. No matter how many times he offered to get her one as well, she would just roll her eyes at him and stick her arms inside it as if to prove the point that it was already hers. It was funny how much it would engulf her, he wouldn't be able to protest for too long even if it ended up in him freezing his ass off at times. He blinked. "I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum. Because once it's out there, someone can create an army of people… like the Avengers."

Helmut placed the coat on top of the car, making sure it wouldn't fall to the dirty ground. Trying to keep his expression neutral as a wave of bitterness washed over him, he bent down to retrieve a bag from the inside. Once the coat was removed, on the green leather of the car seat, his old, purple mask stared back at him. He paused, having forgotten that he threw it here the last time he drove the car.

Nic made a face as she lifted the mask up and took a look at it. He had stored it away in the compartment box but Nic made her way inside it to snoop around.

"You don't like it?" He raised his eyebrow, pulling out of the garage and into the traffic. He promised to bring her to the Zoo couple of days prior and they were meant to return back home the next day. So begrudgingly, he found a couple of hours in the day when he could bring her, even though they went there not even half a year ago for her thirteenth birthday.

"It's…um…very purple."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Why is it so purple?"

"I think you just don't appreciate fashion." He accused her teasingly.

"You call this fashion?" She shot back.

" I let you sit in the front of the car with me and this is what I get in return?" Helmut feigned the hurt in his voice. "Being bullied by my own daughter."

Nic snorted and pulled it over her head. She pulled down the sun visor to see how she looked before turning to him. He wasn't surprised in the least to see that it was way too big for her. The holes for the eyes and mouth were too low and covered her vision instead.

"You're going to be grounded if I find any makeup stains inside it." He threatened and moved his hand from the gearbox to pull the mask off her head. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why she was already putting it on her face. Throwing it behind him to the back, he ruffled her hair even more, causing her to cry out and swat his hand away.

Swallowing, Helmut reached for the mask. His hand lingered on the soft material for a moment. Clicking his tongue, he grasped it tighter and pushed it inside the bag. It will be useful if they ran into trouble and he needed to stay out of the public eye. Nothing else. They really needed to get a move on. The familiarity of the place was making all the memories that he had no time or energy for to come back.

"I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished." Helmut asserted, taking the coat and dropping it over his forearm. With the bag in hand, he walked back to the 1946 Packard Clipper.

"To do this, we'll have to scale a ladder of lowlifes." He explained as he filled up the bag with a couple of knives, handguns, and few boxes of rounds.

"Well, join the party. We've already started." Sam remarked from behind him. He was the jokester amongst them, Helmut thought but ignored his comment.

"First stop is a woman named Selby. Mid-level fence I still have a line on. From there, we climb." He added.

Once he was by the door, Helmut placed the bag on the floor and turned back to his 'team-mates'.

"Stay here." He ordered them, not particularly wanting them to go around and explore the rest of the building.

"Where are you going?" Sam demanded to know, ready to leap into a fight.

"To change, Sam," Helmut smirked and made a point to look down at his police uniform. "I would offer you to join, but I must say I was a married man and I don't break my vows."

"Just hurry up," Sam grunted disgusted at the image Helmut must have created in his brain.

Helmut did not hurry up. In fact, he took his sweet time in choosing his outfit. The upper level of the garage was converted into a somewhat livable space if it ever came to that. Ignoring the spare bedroom, he went straight to the room that acted as a walk-in wardrobe. After going through the options, he ended up settling on a pair of black slacks and a dark purple turtle neck that was loose enough to conceal the Kevlar bulletproof vest underneath.

"My, my." Ivana grinned, coming into their bathroom and leaning against the door frame while he was buttoning up his shirt. "Don't you look charming tonight?"

"Are you sure your opinion is not swayed by the fact that you got me the shirt?" Helmut raised his eyebrow as he watched her through the mirror.

"Of course not, Helmut," She rolled her eyes playfully, coming in further and wrapping her arms around his neck from behind. "But I gotta say, purple is your colour."

He hummed and tilted his head against her cheek as he finished the buttons, leaving the top two unbuttoned. She leaned in and placed her lips on his earlobe, nibbling it lightly.

"Brings out your eyes," She breathed into his ear, making him shiver.

"Honey," He grinned and turned around to wrap his arms around her and pull her closer until she was pressed firmly against his chest. He leaned in, pressing their lips together for the briefest moment. "If you keep this up, we won't leave this bathroom."

"Doesn't sound half bad to me," She quipped and grabbed his shirt to tug him back, deepening the kiss.

"Daddy!" Carl called out all the way from the bottom of the stairs, interrupting them. At the age of five, he possessed the power to scream down the house when he wanted something. "The TV stopped!"

"Duty calls," he half groaned out and stole another quick kiss, not wanting to leave just yet. "You nearly ready?"

"More ready than you."

Helmut blinked the memory away as he put the razor back in its place and looked at himself in the mirror. With a clean shaved face and back in his regular clothes, he looked half decent. Almost like he didn't spend years rotting away in a cell with nothing but books. Almost like he was presentable enough to go home. Except there was no one to greet him there now. Sighing, he grabbed his gloves from the sink counter and shut the light off on his way.

"Really? You couldn't have taken any longer?" James asked exasperated the moment he reappeared. To his surprise, they seemed to have listened and stayed where he ordered them to.

"I certainly could have, but unfortunately we have a plane to catch." Grabbing his bag and coat, he opened the door and threw them into the back.

"How you plan to get all this through the security? Not to mention that you're a runaway criminal?" Sam quizzed as he side-stepped quicker than usual to get to the front seat.

"I have my ways, you'll see," Helmut responded and pressed the button to open the garage door. Sitting down behind the wheel felt nice. He had to admit, he missed driving.

Once on the road, the car fell into silence for a few moments with the radio playing quietly, before Sam ruined it by opening his mouth.

"So what? You took your kids on your little killing sprees?"

"Killing sprees, as you call it, involve a great amount of waiting around. We went sightseeing, mostly. Sometimes shopping." Helmut entertained his idiotic question as he sped up, darting in between the traffic. He smiled smugly catching James' eye-roll in the back mirror.

From their expressions, Helmut gathered that both Sam and James did not expect him to bring them into a small airport forty minutes outside the city and waltz through it like he owned it. The workers that noticed them simply nodded their heads in greeting and minded their business.

"So all this time you've been rich?" Sam asked, surprise evident in his voice as the three of them made their way towards a private jet that was parked on the runway.

"I'm a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country." Helmut explained as they walked past the plane's wing.

Oeznik was waiting for them by the stairs. Helmut smiled, genuinely happy to see his most loyal friend. The man was in his life as long as he could remember and he was there by his side when Nic and Carl were born, watching them over while he was away. Helmut owed him a debt that he could never repay.

"Hello, Oeznik." Helmut greeted him in Russian the moment he was close enough to be heard over the engine. Oeznik was the one who sat him through hours of Russian lessons many years ago. It was only fair that he would greet him in it.

"Welcome, gentlemen." Oeznik greeted them back in Russian, causing Helmut to grin wider. While James knew Russian better than anyone, Helmut wasn't sure if Sam did.

"Old friend." Helmut embraced him and kissed both of his cheeks. It had been too long. Nodding to him, Helmut turned to James and Sam. Partly to get them on the plane, and partially because he couldn't look at the man for too long, not when he was looking at him with such adoration. Like he was truly happy to see him. It felt wrong. Undeserving. It made his skin crawl.

"Please." Helmut invited them in and boarded the plane. It was one of the smaller jet's that belonged to him; a six-seater with a small gallery. Perfect for quick travel.

While Sam and Bucky got comfortable in their seats, Helmut took a moment to go through the gallery in hopes of finding something that would pass the time between taking off and reaching the optimal altitude. He wasn't a fan of how rocky the first part of the journey tended to be. Helmut could already hear them going back and forth between each other. Finding a book, he pulled out a small red notebook from his coat's pocket. He nicked it, mostly out of curiosity, from James when he wasn't paying attention. He was sure it would also help to understand where the soldier's mind was at currently. After having his memory scrambled for decades, he was bound to be desperate to write down anything important, in fears of forgetting it. It was only logical.

Putting it in the middle of the book, he returned to the cabin and picked a seat near Sam, so that he could have a viewpoint advantage to watch James. He took a look at him for a moment before opening the book and feigning his interest in it. The former Winter soldier had no idea that he lost something. Perhaps James was trying to suppress anything that had to do with the Winter Soldier, including his heightened senses.

Once they were airborne, Oeznik returned with a glass of champagne for him. Helmut chuckled softly and reached out for it, crossing his legs as he leaned back into his chair.

"Apologies if that's a little warm, the fridge is out. But I will see if there is some good food in the galley."

"If it doesn't pass the smell test… give it to them," Helmut suggested in Sokovian, tilting his head towards them, to give just enough suspicion that he was saying something about them. It was fun, getting under their skin. Besides, it wasn't likely that they would tell a difference even if they took the offer of food which he doubted they would. Probably would believe that he was trying to poison them.

"It's good to have you back, sir." Oeznik chuckled with affection in his voice and returned back to the gallery. Helmut tilted his glass before taking a sip, hoping to wash away the heaviness in his stomach that formed. He could think of a couple of things that would be better than him to have back.

"You don't know what it's like to be locked in a cell. Oh. That's right. You do." He couldn't help but deliver the dig, even at the expense of setting their 'friendship' a step backward. He wanted to acknowledge Sam's time in the RAFT, of the time that he was a prisoner just like himself. That they had something in common, not just an enemy. Also to hint that he kept up with the news, that he knew of their actions and steps, even all the way from a prison cell.

"Why don't you tell us about where we're going?" For what it's worth, Helmut had to give a point to Sam for not falling for the most basic bait.

Helmut instead of answering picked up his book and flicked through the notebook, settling on a list. He paused for a second. He was familiar with the names on it. After spending over a year learning everything there was about James' time as the Winter Soldier, he had Black widow to thank for making his job easier, he understood the meaning behind them. What took him by surprise was to see his own name amongst them.

"I'm sorry. I was just fascinated by this." Helmut changed the subject, concentrating on one name that he didn't recognize. Nakajima was circled a couple of times, most likely the most important name on the list. However, he never came across of a Nakajima in James' files. "I don't know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?"

James jumped from his seat and within a second, had the vibranium arm around his throat. The suddenness did catch him off guard, causing him to exhale sharply but he wasn't scared. The grip was tight, in a way that was meant to send a message, not to actually cause harm. Besides, why would you be scared of a thing you craved in the dead of night? Death wasn't something that could be used against him, not when he welcomed it years ago.

Helmut maintained eye contact, almost daring him to go further. To prove his point. That was what the serum did to people. Edged them towards extremes, and James Barnes was as extreme as one could get. A man-made killing machine.

"If you touch that again, I'll kill you." James declared, with a calmness in his voice that only people who had their hands dirty could muster. Touchy subject then. He yanked the notebook out of his hands and only then released his grip.

"I'm sorry," Helmut apologized, his voice sounding hoarser from the strain it just experienced. "I understand that list of names. People you've wronged as the Winter Soldier."'But why is my name important enough to you for you to write it down in your amends?' was left unasked.

"Don't push it." James bit out, becoming guarded once again, just like when he came to his cell. He reminded Helmut of a dog he used to see back home. Desperate for help, but too long on the streets to trust anyone.

"I've seen that book. It was Steve's when he came out of the ice." Sam noted with fondness in his voice. "I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What'd you think?"

"I like '40s music, so…" James replied, clenching his jaw.

"You didn't like it?"

"I liked it."

"It is a masterpiece, James. Complete. Comprehensive. It captures the African-American experience." Helmut joined in the conversation.

"He's out of line, but he's right. It's great. Everybody loves Marvin Gaye."

"I like Marvin Gaye."

"Steve adored Marvin Gaye."

"You must have really looked up to Steve. But I realized something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America's Super Soldiers, is that we put them on pedestals."

"Watch your step, Zemo." Sam warned him but he ignored it.

"They become symbols. Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there, cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought. You remember that, right? As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull? No. That is why we're going to Madripoor."

"What's up with Madripoor? You talk about it like it's Skull Island." Sam asked, glancing between him and James.

"It's an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s." James was the one to answer him. That was a light way of putting it.

"It's kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone."'But we both know that's not quite true don't we?' Helmut left unsaid.

The flight from Germany to Madripoor took roughly fourteen hours. For the first couple of hours, they sat in relative silence. Helmut drowned himself into the book while James looked out the window and Sam had his AirPods in, drumming his fingers against the armrest to the beat of a song.

Helmut shifted in his seat, closing the book. Sighing, he placed it on the chair opposite of him and stood up needing to stretch his legs. The jet didn't have that much space to walk so he chose to cross the gallery to refill his glass. With the drink in hand, he wandered down into the cockpit where Oeznik and another pilot were sitting.

"Sir." The pilot greeted him in Russian the moment he noticed him leaning against the door frame.

"Excellent flying, Dabrowski." Helmut smiled, crossing his arms. "haven't felt any turbulence."

"Thank you sir."

The cockpit fell into silence, not that Helmut minded. He was too used to it to find it uncomfortable. He watched the clouds pass them by, sipping the champagne. Feeling eyes on him, he turned to Oeznik.

"Did they treat you alright, Helmut? Truly?" Oeznik asked, switching to Sokovian while looking at him with such adoration and worry that Helmut had to look away yet again. He cleared his throat and plastered a smile on his face. Even to himself it felt forced.

"Of course Oeznik, you worry too much." He chided him gently. The man always fussed about him. He always fretted over Ivana as well, concerned if she ate enough throughout the day. Never went a day without secretly giving Nic and Carl a piece of candy even if Carl never was able to keep it a secret.

"Well it has been my job for over forty years and you tend to find trouble around every corner." The older man chuckled fondly.

"Nonsense, I'm always on my best behavior. How have you been? I imagine you enjoyed the much-needed vacation days." Helmut changed the subject easily. He didn't want to linger on what once was.

"If I knew your drastic ways of making me take the vacation days off, I would have taken them sooner," Oeznik joked before his smile fell away. "Things have been quiet. It a strange thing to get used to. Even after all these years, I expect to hear Nic and Car, to just pop out around any corner that I turn. I make sure they always have fresh flowers, especially Ivana. She was hellbent on having fresh flowers around the house."

His voice broke, thick with emotion. Helmut had to bite down the inside of his cheek to keep himself composed. The metallic taste filled his mouth and as he ran his tongue over the spot, it sent a small jolt of pain.

It had been so long since he saw their graves. He only went there once, to watch their caskets be lowered into a deep hole. As if that somehow could have brought him some sort of closure, as if it would have granted him the ability to say goodbye. The thought of returning, of stepping a foot in that damned graveyard, of looking at three tombstones, side by side, washed him over with such coldness that even if he jumped into antarctic water he would have been warmer. Shame flooded him. What kind of a man did not visit his own family? What kind of a husband, a father, would let them rot alone.

"Thank you, Oeznik. I'll…" Helmut swallowed, trying to find the words that seemed determined to be stuck in his throat and left unsaid. "I'll make sure to pay them a visit. Later."

Helmut did what he did best; he lied. You told her they would be safe. Look how that turned out.

Made another useless promise, knowing full well he couldn't walk down that path, not without putting a bullet in himself and joining them.

Madripoor was just as vivid and bright as he remembered. The lights of the High Town shone from miles away. They stopped by Helmut's safe house, where James and Sam reluctantly changed into a set of clothes that wouldn't instantly attract attention to them. Especially for the roles that they would have to play if they wanted to get information. Unsurprisingly, it took longer to convince Sam to dress up than it did James.

"We have to fix this. I'm the only one who looks like a pimp." Sam groaned out, looking at his apparel for the tenth time in disgust.

"Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp." Helmut sighed as he dug out his phone and split his attention between looking at the road in front of them and through the gallery to find a picture of Conrad Mack. "You look exactly like the man you're supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger."

"He even has a bad nickname." Sam took a glance at the picture. "he does look like me, though."

Sam passed the phone back to him. The closer they walked to the city, the sharper the distinct stench became.

"You smell this?" Helmut asked keeping his attention upfront. A car was arranged to collect them at any moment now, but anything could happen between now and then. He rather not have surprises popping up at them in a place like this. Even he didn't know the city that well and he doubted many people would be willing to help out.

"Yeah, what is that? Acid?"

More like a combined mixture of the fumes from the buildings, production of drugs, all the imported animals and God knows what else. Helmut had no doubt that the water surrounding the city was toxic and could kill someone if they fell into it.

"Madripoor."

A bright beam of headlights flashed them as a car came to a stop a short distance away from them.

"No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There's no margin for error." Helmut explained calmly, barely moving his lips just in case the driver felt particularly nosy. They could trust no one.

"High Town's that way. Not a bad place if you wanna visit, but Low Town's the other way." He added, opening the passenger door.

"Let me guess. We don't have any friends in High Town." Sam said as he walked around the car.

Helmut gave him a smile and sat down in the front. The destination, Brass Monkey, was already agreed during the call so Helmut only needed to forward the payment before the car moved in the direction of Low Town.

It did not take long until several motorcycles surrounded their car. Someone already knew of their arrival before they even took a step inside Low Town. Helmut's money was on the Power Broker, which was not the best news for them. He watched Sam turn around and look behind him through the rear-view mirror.

Once the car stopped, Helmut nodded to the driver and exited the car. Wordlessly, he led James and Sam through the streets, passing armed guards, dealers, and hookers until they arrived at Brass Monkey.

"Here we are. Remember your roles no matter what happens." He reminded them again, giving a hard look to Sam. He knew once James got into the role of the Winter Soldier again, there would be very little that could affect him enough to give up their act. It was Sam who made him nervous. His seemingly constant need to check up and staring at James might be the thing that gets them caught. The last thing they needed was for the whole city-state to put a bounty on their head.

The inside was packed with all sorts of lowlifes.

"Ready to comply… Winter Soldier?" Helmut asked James in Russian, loud enough for people to hear and for whispering to begin. He needed the whispers to travel to the right people. Not only would it get them to Selby faster, but it would also buy him security. Winter Soldier's reputation around these parts was well known, not many would want to dive headfirst at them.

Helmut lead them to the bar and took a quick glance around. For the most part, there was no one that stood out or seemed out of place. He noticed that to their right a couple of feet away, two women stood together, but only one of them kept her eyes trained on them. It was the insistent staring that caught his attention. Unfortunately, he couldn't tell much about them, the taller one wore a hood and the one that was watching them had a mask that covered half of her face. The mask reminded him of what the Winter Soldier used to wear. The Bar's security perhaps. Or maybe an interested party.

"Hello, gentlemen. Wasn't expecting you, Smiling Tiger." The barman approached them, distracting him from the two women. He took a look at Sam but didn't appear to be suspicious over his appearance.

"His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby." Helmut answered instead. They had agreed that he would do all the talking and they would simply need to nod along and look pretty.

"The usual?"

There came their test. Seeing the barman take a cobra out of a glass container and drag a knife across it, Helmut sighed dramatically, expressing his feigned happiness at receiving Sam's 'favourite' drink. It was made out Gin, Triple Sec, Cobra heart, and finger lim.

"Smiling Tiger, your favorite." He emphasized with a smile on his face. Helmut had to admit, it was going to be fun.

The barman placed their drinks on the table.

"I love these," Sam spoke up and looked at him, holding the shot as far away as he could from himself.

"Cheers, Conrad." Helmut clinked their glasses and knocked back the shot. It burned his throat as it went down, the heart adding that extra kick of spice to the mix. It wouldn't be his first choice of drink, but it wasn't the worst that he tasted.

"Mmm. Mmm."

While Sam tried to force himself to drink the shot before it became too obvious, Helmut glanced to the corner of the table again. The woman with the hood was gone but the second one was interested in watching Sam with the drink. They definitely had an audience. Not so good.

Hearing someone approach from behind, Helmut turned in time to see the Power Broker's henchman coming up.

"I got word from on high. You ain't welcome here."

Helmut considered his words carefully. They needed to prove that James was under his control. These types of talks often needed a bargaining chip and what was better than a Winter Soldier?

"I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…" he responded and gestured to James who was stiffly standing beside him.

"New haircut?"

"Or bring Selby for a chat."

After a glance at James, the henchman left them alone. Hopefully to get Selby. Licking his lips, Helmut turned back to the bar.

"A Power Broker? Really?" James muttered out lowly, unimpressed with the name. Not that Helmut could blame him, the name was a little bit cliché.

"Every kingdom needs its king. Let's just pray we stay under his radar." Helmut shrugged. The one time that he indirectly dealt with the Power Broker was back in '08, when the EKO Scorpion needed to obtain a particular nerve agent for one of their missions. Even back then, you did not want to get on the wrong side of the Power Broker. He didn't even want to imagine how big his empire was now.

"Do you know him?" Sam whispered, glancing around the bar.

"Only by reputation. In Madripoor he is the judge, jury, and executioner." Helmut elaborated and tilted his head to their watcher. "And has eyes and ears everywhere. She hasn't stopped watching us ever since we stepped a foot near the bar."

Sam's eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise and he glanced in her direction. Helmut didn't have much time to say anything else. More of the Power Broker's men were making their way towards them.

"Winter Soldier." Helmut looked at James dead in the eye. "Attack."

He ordered in Russian just as a hand gripped his shoulder. James did not hesitate, ripping the man's arm off him and bending it backward. Dragging him towards the centre of the room, he broke the man's arm in half and threw a punch in his face using the prosthetic arm, rendering the man useless on the floor.

Helmut smiled. He was right after all. No matter how much James denied, the Winter Soldier was right there, still inside him. The bystanders took out their phones, filming as the Winter Soldier single-handedly took out anyone that came at him.

Helmut stood back and apart from pushing a couple of them into Winter Soldier's path, he watched the scene unfold. James was lethal, just like he was all the way back when they first met and Helmut uttered the words of his programming. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the woman leaning her body over the counter as she said something to the barman who promptly left with a phone pressed to his ear.

"Didn't take much for him to fall back into form." Helmut chuckled, shrugging his shoulders at Sam who seemed a little bit pale. He barely paid any attention to Helmut, his eyes only watching James.

The Winter Soldier grabbed someone by the throat and lifted him in the air before throwing him over the counter. The sound of multiple guns cocking behind them made Helmut's heart skip a single beat. Glancing around, it seemed like every single person was arming themselves. Sam gripped James' forearm causing Helmut to hiss out:

"Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us."

The Flying Tiger certainly would not be touching James' without wishing a swift death sentence. James' not reacting to a threat, allowing a touch on himself would blow their cover to pieces. Sam let go.

"Well done, soldier." Helmut praised James, replacing Sam's hand on him with his own. He needed to take control of the situation and fast.

The barman returned and nodded to the woman.

"Selby will see you now. Follow me, gentlemen." She spoke out for the first time, rising from her seat. The honeyed voice twinged with a familiar accent ripped the breath right out of Helmut's lungs. Even muffled by the mask, it was distinguishable in all the ways that it couldn't have been possible. It halted him to the spot, unable so much as to inhale the air that his lungs started to scream for. He did not see James let go of the man or Sam cast him a confused look when he made no move to follow.

This was not possible.

I 'll try to update the fic once a week to keep somewhat consistent schedule :)

Please let me know what you think and I can't wait to bring you more content soon x

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

Someone Saved My Life

(Jack x Rin Davies, Pt 1)

Word Count: 3600

Warnings: nothing just intimacy, implied sex and a bit of angst thrown in for funsies

A/N: Jack takes Rin to the Yorkshire Moors for their first holiday together. After all they've been through together, they could use the time away. And yet their first night ends with the arrival of an unwanted guest. ((Totally didn't plan on writing anything let alone another story for the two of them. Was going to try to work on an Ivan story, but I tossed around this idea for months now, and it just felt right? Self indulgence is my new name when it comes to writing!))

Things weren't always perfect between Jack and Rin. Jack had days where he slipped back into isolation. The sadness would swell and he wouldn't sleep. Rin knew those were the times he was surrounded. Overwhelmed. And while he mostly ignored the dead, she could feel when they simply refused to ignore him.

They would come in droves and scatter about any room Jack was in. Crammed together like sardines in a can all shouting for messages to be passed to the living. Sometimes Rin would give him a wide berth, the death and decay crawled along her own skin. She would dress with every inch of her skin covered and attempt to sleep alone while Jack banished himself to the sofa. Those nights resulted in him exploding with anger and shouts of desperation to be left alone.

The guilt would wash over Rin. They're a couple, she would remember. Partners. Not just lovers and friends. You take the worst of one another as your own, and she could ACTUALLY do that for Jack. Letting him be was not a choice anymore, no matter what he believed.

Rin would go and gently talk Jack down into her lap. His thick mass of waves and curls against her bare thighs would be sweaty. He would curl on his side with a hand under legs instead of his cheek. His other by his mouth so he could anxiously chew on the already devastated thumb nail. She knew his eyes would be jammed shut.

Rin would brush the curls off Jack’s forehead with fingertips. Fingers that traced delicate and light patterns over his temples and cheeks where they wiped away tears as she hummed. Her thumb soft along his lips before they ran back up where she would press her index, middle, and ring finger into his temple. Then she would sing and fill his head with warmth and love to bring the light instead of death.

“Someone saved my life tonight..” And Rin would look up and around at them all. Her voice came out soft and full of affection. She would narrow her eyes in their direction. Silently chastising them all the while comforting Jack.

His body relaxed as she continued, “You almost had your hooks in me. Didn't you dear. You nearly had me roped and tied. Altar bound, hypnotized, sweet freedom, whispered in my ear. You're a butterfly, and butterflies are free to fly. Fly away..” Her hand would sweep in a wild gesture along the lot of them. He would be asleep, and she would be alone with the shock of the departed that they had another to see them.

As long as Rin connected with Jack he wasn't alone in his ability. They discovered that with Finch. Jack was the conjurer; Rin the conduit. A hundred years ago they would have been rich in the spiritualism movement. Now they were labeled mental and mad and stuffed full of chemicals, their gifts silenced.

Never again for either of them, Rin would hold back the dead so her love could sleep and get peace. When she interfered the protection emanated from her. They would stop shouting, stop begging, just.. stop. Rin would flick her hand like she was casting a powerful spell, her eyes set in determination. Then they would be gone.

Then there were times like this. When Jack closed up his shop with a sign that said “I'm on Holidays. Dunno when, I'm almost thirty and this is my first one.” He put himself and Rin on a train up to Yorkshire where they hailed a cab to what was theirs for the next month.

Rin gazed in delight at the two story stone cottage. It was covered in ivy and moss with a carved stone fence and a picket gate. There was a little English rose garden off to the side of the house, and wildflowers simply everywhere else. In the hills beyond stood grazing cattle and a pond. Behind the hills of Yorkshire.

“Oh, Jack,” it was just a breath that managed to escape her.

“D’you reckon it's alright?” he scratched his shaggy head. There was worry in his green eyes as he glanced towards his partner for approval.

Rin’s eyes met Jack’s, and she slipped her ungloved hand inside of his. Their palms together, she squeezed. “This is stunning,” she hoped to reassure him. Her gratitude and pleasure flowed from her body to his through her touch.

Jack had just bent to kiss Rin when someone interrupted them and cleared their throat. A feminine voice shouted, “Yoo hoo! Hello!”

The couple turned to see a stout, round faced cheerful old woman in the garden. She wore a wide brim straw hat, an old dress and an apron. Rin was reminded of a human Mrs. Potts as the elder smiled wide.

“Aren't you a delight!” she beamed. Making her way to the gate she stopped. “I'm Mrs. Barrow. My husband, Henry is round back in the barn. Oh it's been AGES since we've had newlyweds.”

Jack's cheeks pinked, but Rin giggled. “No. We're not married.”

“Oh, sinful little doves.” The old woman winked. “By the looks of him, I can see why.” She fanned herself dramatically and Jack now turned red. He scratched at his head even harder whilst his eyebrows disappeared in his hair.

“This is Jack, and I'm Wren. But you can call me Rin! Are you the caretakers? Is this your house? We're on our first holiday together.” The words tumbled out of the young woman before she could stop herself.

“Oh no, little Wren. Henry and I..” Rin had let go of Jack's hand to shake Mrs. Barrow’s. The moment she let go, the old woman disappeared. Rin gasped and turned to her boyfriend.

“She was telling us she and her husband did live here. Died from the Spanish flu a hundred years ago.” Jack gave a little shrug, but a tiny grin had crept into the corners of his mouth. “They love it here so much, neither moved on.”

Rin reached for him, and his hand covered hers. The old woman reappeared. “Sorry, Missus. I didn't know?”

She laughed heartily in response, “Sometimes Henry and I forget we're dead. Never had someone who could see us before. Let alone a couple. The moors are full of ghosts, mostly long gone. None of us here for a bother, especially since your beau here looks exhausted. Just popped in for a bit of cheek and a greeting. If you need us, give a shout ok?” Then she was gone.

“Why can't they all be like that?!” Jack almost shouted his question.

“Maybe we should move up here where they've had time to get used to it? The ones in Manchester are all.. fresh and selfish and confused.”

Rin pulled Jack towards her for a kiss. His tongue teased her for the briefest moment before he picked her up and carried her in his arms towards the cottage.

“What are you doing?!” she squealed.

“Dunno. Little biddie thought we’re married,” he leaned in to kiss her a few more times. He waggled his eyebrows, “Might as well act like it.”

“Jack, we just got here!”

“I've been ready since we woke up. We’ll have a shag then go out to the pub for a few pints and some fish n chips.”

“Romantic,” Rin rolled her eyes as Jack opened the door around her.

“Oh, you love me!” Jack set her down in the foyer then playfully slapped his girlfriend on the ass.

Rin jumped and bolted up the stairs before he could catch her. “I do!” she called down to him. “What's that vow? Till death do us part?” She started to strip her clothes off to her bra and panties. Her finger made a come here motion before she disappeared around a corner.

Jack's face fell, but only for the swiftest of moments. “Even then you wouldn't be gone.”

------

Rin snuck out of the bed as she so often did after they had sex. Mostly because it was the soundest Jack ever slept with his long limbs stretched out as if she wasn’t there. Or he would envelop her in his arms without a choice. And even though she understood Jack's desire to be with her constantly, sometimes Rin felt smothered.

Now she stood at the foot of the bed to watch Jack's breathing as his sternum rose and fell with a steady rhythm. He laid on his back, arm above his head in a languid position. The sheets barely draped across his hips to reveal the V shape of his pelvis and just a tuft of pubic hair. Rin’s eyes kept going until she felt her heart between her thighs and not in her chest.

“Go take a bath,” her brain scolded her. “Wash off the train and sex before you go out for dinner. You stand here any longer, you'll wake him up by straddling him.”

Rin’s body wavered. I mean, that was an idea. “BATH, ADERYN DAVIES!” At least her inner monologue didn't use her middle name.

Rin closed the door and turned on the hot water. She was lost in thought as it filled. How she and Jack developed a willingness to share their bodies with one another in the light. That she relished how their chests and mouths and skin dissipated into reciprocated emotions. Jack was addicted to it the way she could absorb him and switch places with him. Show him what it was like to be her. Empathy became his heroin.

Rin climbed into the tub and settled against the porcelain. She relaxed her mind and body until only her breasts remained afloat. She never took a bath. Not since her time in hospital when she and Jack met. Where the dead tried to drown them. But she and Jack saved each other.

Maybe because they were nearing the three year anniversary of that awful time, but Rin thought about it more these days. She held her hands above the water and ran her scarred fingers over the further damage she had done to herself. The long jagged line from her wrist to forearm. Usually she wasn't quite THAT bad off when she tried to commit suicide, and even now she couldn't remember what was her trigger that day.

“There's not even a word to describe how bloody melancholy suicides are when they come ‘round,” Jack would say. “Maybe desolate?”

“Did you ever try?”

“Not that I remember. Didn't wanna upset Emma. Always seems so messy. Guess maybe I was doing it slowly though, the way I lived. We're ok now, right?” he would ask and kiss her hand.

“We're diamonds, Jack,” she would respond, "Unbreakable.”

Now Rin knew he was in the doorway. It was hard to sneak up on her if you gave off too much emotion. Currently Jack was as warm and comforting as the water she floated about in.

“You alright?” his sleepy voice carried a trace of concern.

Rin looked up and back at him, her fingers still on her scar. “Yeah! Just thinking about us. This.”

The air shifted. A wicked grin played across Jack's face as he walked around the side of the tub. His naked body in full view. Rin’s face flushed and her heart raced, but she kept her composure on the surface as he stepped in to join her. His hands on her waist drew her into his lap. She threw her arms around his neck as they held onto each other tightly. Jack pressed his lips to Rin’s neck where he kissed a trail down over the curve of her shoulder.

“Jaacckk,” she whinged. “Come on I was sat here having a think, and you’re like a teenage boy with this!” She tried to hide a moan when he bent her back to capture her breast in his mouth. “Bless,” was her response.

“I can't help it!” he teased from between them. “I have so much lost time, and you’re so bloody sexy.”

“Will you put that thing away!” Rin’s voice was louder, but still had laughter in it. “C’mon Jack. This should be sweet and romantic. Somehow you always turn it into a porno.”

“I can't help that my,” Jack pointed his finger towards the water and whistled, “likes you. Loves you? Always wants to be in you.”

“Cock, Jack. It's called a cock. Shouldn't it be used to me by now? It's been almost a year.”

Jack stopped teasing Rin. He looked at her seriously now. Those green eyes seemed to search her soul as they moved back and forth over her face. “One year?”

“Yes.”

“I can't believe I had forgotten you all the time between..” his voice trailed off.

“It's ok,” Rin spoke softly.

Jack turned his bottom lip out, “Now I'm sad. So we should shag in this bathtub, then I won't be!”

Rin groaned for a long time after that. “No!! Sex in hot tubs or bath tubs or pools isnt the best. Water is a shite lubricant, trust.”

Jack pushed her away and feigned disgust. “Have you shagged in them before?”

“Once or twice.”

“With Roland?”

“What?! No! I told you we only had sex once. Then he left LITERALLY the next day. Why are you so weirdly jealous of him? It wasn't my first time. I've been with loads of men.”

Rin sat back again on her side of the tub. She reached for the body wash on a shelf, and started to use it on her arms and chest. Her eyebrow arched as if she was trying to challenge Jack to get angry at her sexual history.

Jack pulled his knees to his chest. “Are you hoping I get pissed that you've had sex with other guys? Of course you have, you're beautiful. Roland is just so.. Roland.”

“Fair play, but he has a gift like we do.”

“Ghosts and music. Worst super powers ever,” he mused.

Rin opened her arms and motioned Jack to settle in between them and her legs. He turned and laid down with his back completely pressed into her. She kissed his cheek then gestured for him to tilt his head back with her finger under his chin. Jack obeyed with his eyes closed.

Rin cupped water in her hand and poured it over his hair. She repeated the process a few times before he sunk down under the water. She marveled at how long his hair was when wet or straightened. At how long his arms and legs and torso were as he held on to her own knees that were drawn up around him. At how far he had come from the man drawn into himself high, on psych meds, with dirty fingernails and rough cheeks. Now he was open and present and relaxed in her arms.

“Birdie,” Jack started calling her that out of a desire to give her some kind of nickname. Love and darling and babe weren't enough.

“Jackie?” only Rin got away with that. She put some shampoo in her hand and lathered them together in front of their bodies before she dove into his hair.

“You're making me sad thinking about how poor I was when we met. You know, passing it from yourself to me without meaning.”

“What?” she was concentrating on massaging Jack's entire head. Her light fingers made circles and gentle scratches. Then they widened and she drew bigger circles. She didn't want to leave out one inch of his scalp.

“You're body, it's pressed to mine? You're passing along your thoughts without noticing because we're relaxed. But also, please keep doing that. Holy shit that feels nice.”

Rin kept on. She alternated from soft to a little harder to as much pressure as Jack allowed. He gripped her calf and ankles now wrapped around his waist. She used her thumbs to stroke his temples and rub across his forehead before going back to knead the rest of his head again.

Her attention back to reality instead of just on making sure Jack was cared for, she realized what had happened. “I'm sorry! Sorry. I can block it if you want?” She separated her body from his and unwound her legs. Jack held on.

“It's fine,” he reassured her. “Just let me mind your body too?”

Rin snickered, “You minded my body for about an hour already.”

Jack gave an annoyed smirk and rolled his eyes. “I mean like this!” he gestured towards her washing his hair.

“You can wash my hair. That would be lovely.”

“Why don't I..” he stroked his chin. Jack's eyes settled on the stuff she had spread out on the sink. “Shave your legs?”

“Blimey,” Rin whispered. “Really?” Her heart took to pounding in her ears. She eased him down into the water to rinse everything from him clean. “Jack that's very..”

“Intimate?” he was already standing to carefully choose what was her razor and shaving cream. He held them in her direction for approval.

“Actually, yes.” Rin nodded, “And yes. This is really different from shaving your face, y’know. I've got to trust you completely because that is a new blade, and I always nick a damn patch of skin.”

Jack sat back down in the water, placed the razor on the edge of the tub and lifted Rin’s ankle. He pinioned her foot to his chest and bit his entire bottom lip. She felt exposed, made vulnerable by this position. He was looking at the half of her naked body just below the water’s surface. The can of gel faltered as he shook it.

“Jack! You're shaving my legs, not my twat. Eyes on what you're doing!” Rin snapped her finger to catch his attention.

“I can do-”

“Keep speaking, and no sex for two days.”

Jack frowned but sprayed the soap on her shin. He spread it around from the ankle up to her knee before trying to go higher. Rin held up her hand, “Only strippers and sex workers shave that high!”

He snorted and continued on the back of her leg and made sure to get the back of her knee. She was especially ticklish there and jerked her body and giggled as a result. They both could be in trouble: Jack with a sharp object; Rin with the ability to kick him in the sternum if he wasn't careful.

“Better luck if you're facing away from me. You have to shave with the blades towards my knee. You best sit back against me like before.”

“Or,” Jack held the razor backwards with the head towards his wrist. His thumb on the grooved grip as he placed it delicately by Rin’s ankle. The handle was awkward in his large fingers as he took it gingerly and with the utmost of care upward. The blade made a path in the cream as he moved it up to her knee.

Rin inhaled as he did the same gesture again. She exhaled when the razor met her kneecap. Steady breathing with each swipe along her leg. The tip of Jack's tongue stuck out from his lips as he concentrated. He worked and focused and shifted her calf just enough to get the sides and the back. The only sound in the bathroom was the splish of water when he cleaned the blade after each path.

“Oh,” was all that left Rin’s mouth the entire time. Her eyes never left Jack's face while his own refused to break away from her leg.

“You alright?” Jack finally looked up at Rin just as he was getting a start on her other leg.

Rin shook her head with enthusiasm. Now her turn to bite her bottom lip before a giant smile crawled from ear to ear. “I'm grand! I love you.”

And just like he always did when she said that, Jack looked sheepish. Like he still couldn't believe that any.one would love him let alone a whole family of them. Rin. Emma. Billy. Jerry. They all loved him without condition.

“I love you too,” Jack smiled in kind. It reached his eyes in wrinkled skin in the corners of them. He made his way around his girlfriend’s other leg and realized something had grown inside of him. He was starting to care for himself.

So this is it, Jack thought as he finished shaving Rin’s legs, I think I love myself?

Before he could say anything the doorbell rang downstairs and scared the shit out of them both. They scrambled to their feet and started to dry off in a harried way. In the bedroom, they threw on clothes as the bell rang out again with more insistence.

“Can ghosts ring?”

“No! Not usually. BLOODY HELL WE’RE COMING!” Jack shouted as he rushed down the steps. He turned the light on in the foyer and opened the door. Rin couldn't make out anything but Jack’s shocked voice. “What the fuck are you doing here? You're two weeks early, mate.”

“She.. I should've.. Wren.. I lost my..” the words were broken up by Jack's body.

Rin made her way down and peered around Jack's shoulder. A tired, swollen eyed man stood on the front stoop. His hair was a curly mess; his goatee and mustache looked like a positive fright. She could tell he hadn't been sleeping much. It was the first time Rin had seen him alone in the last year. It was the first time Rin had seen him in PERSON in maybe seven in spite of all his promises.

“ROLAND?!”

Both he and Jack turned towards Rin and shouted simultaneously, “Surprise!”

tag @robertsheehanownsmyass @magic-multicolored-miracle @slutforrobbiebro @forenschik @super-unpredictable98 @bisexualnathanyoung @nightmonsters @rob-private @badsext @bwritesstuff @frogs--are--bitches

[passionate-hedgehog]

Banana

m.list

Shayne Topp x Reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: none

Word Count: 3041

AN: This is my first Shayne x Reader fic. AND it’s now gender neutral! Thank you to @rustyisdead for helping me change up all of the pronouns!

Summary: Helping out a friend ends in a way Shayne wasn’t expecting.

   When Shayne offered to help one of his buddies out that went on a week long vacation, he did not think it would require him to interrupt his own schedule as much as it did. He didn’t mind it, honestly. The actor just had to reconfigure his own morning routine to fit his very current yet very temporary situation. 

   Banana was a golden-doodle. A little more golden than doodle, but a very wonderful dog. She seemed to know that the current human taking care of her wasn’t as...savvy...to how she worked. At least, that’s what Shayne thought. The look in her eyes always spoke of mischief to him. She wasn’t naughty...but she liked to see how far she could push him. She also had very shady moments that made him think she knew more than she was letting on.

   Day three out of seven and he was at the point where he remembered he was supposed to drop her off at doggy daycare without forgetting and leaving for his work commute without her. On the first day, he just forgot about her entirely. On the second day, he made it to the doggy day care but without the doggy part. He had to drive all of the way back to his apartment, load her up (but she LOVES car rides, Shayne. It won’t be hard to get her to go! I promise), drive the fifteen minutes to the care center and then to work. He wasn’t going to make that mistake a third time. He was better than that, he told himself.

   When he did eventually get to his destination, without forgetting the passenger, he took in the sights. Cute Critters Pet Sitters was a simple brick building but he could tell how much maintenance went into the yard area. He couldn’t see a lot but the fencing seemed to go on forever. The actor leashed up his current canine companion and walked her into the building, following the very well placed directions. Banana got signed in and the attendant at the front desk took her to where Shayne assumed the other dogs were. He wasn’t sure. This whole thing was new to him. 

   “Mr. Williams? Are you still able to help out this week for the renovation?” One of the front desk attendants asked.

   Shayne paused and looked around, because out of all of the things he had been forgetting that week, his name wasn’t one of them. But when he realized that she was looking directly at him, he realized there must have been a misconception.

  “Oh, I’m not...I’m not him. I’m just dropping off his dog this week.” The actor replied .

   The woman pursed her lips. “Oh, I apologize. Banana’s owner was slated to help out with our indoor renovation project this week. I’ll have to tell Mx. L/n that he’s no longer available. Which is an honest shame.

   Shayne looked abashed. 

   “I see Banana is here! Is her human still here, too?” A different voice called from the gymnasium Banana had been walked into.

   “I’m afraid not, Y/n.” The receptionist replied as the worker from the gymnasium walked into the foyer. “He was dropped off by someone else today. And will be for the rest of this week, correct?”

   Shayne only nodded in reply. The receptionist seemed to think her job was done and walked off somewhere Shayne couldn’t see, not that he was bothering to look. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the person standing before him. They were wearing a leopard cat ear headband that had distracted him.

   The worker began to wring their hands together. “He won’t be here today? At all? Or this week? We were really looking forward to his help.” 

   “I’m sorry,” Shayne shrugged. “He’s on vacation. I’m dog-sitting Banana for him. That’s why she wasn’t here the last two days. Was it something monetarily? I can shoot him a quick text…”

   “Oh, no! Nothing like that! Please, don’t interrupt his vacation! It just kinda...sucks. He promised to help with renovating our playroom-slash-gymnasium. He was our first volunteer for it so we were hoping it was showing us his excitement and so we got excited...not too many of the pet parents volunteered…”The worker then sighed deeply while rubbing their forehead with both hands. 

   The actor noticed how distressed and let down they seemed. They must have been really looking forward to someone willing to come in on their own time and help out. Shayne didn’t like the idea that his friend promised to give time to help out and then just didn’t. He almost felt...responsible for the current situation. Not that he felt like he caused it...but that he had the opportunity to amend it. So he did what any responsible person would do.

   “Do you...I could help?”

   “Really?!” L/n clasped their hands together and looked like they could start jumping up and down at any point. Shayne offhandedly wondered if they learned any traits from the dogs they played with all day.

   “Yeah, I mean, I pick Banana up after work anyway. I could stop in and see if you guys still needed help? I don’t know what all I could do. But I could probably do something.” Shayne nodded as if trying to convince himself more than L/n.

   “Sweet home Alabama. That would be PERFECT.” They then pulled him into a big hug and then released him with a smile that seemed larger than what should be possible. “Awesome! AHHH!!! Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you!”

   After solidifying what time he would be back to pick up Banana and check in on what they needed, the actor left for his work commute. He started up his car and texted his best friend. 

   Shayne: I just had a crazy time bringing Banana to daycare. I’ll be to        set... soon.

   Damien: You mean “late”?

   Shayne: Tomato tomahto.

   Filming half a month's worth of content in one day would always be exhausting to Shayne. No matter how long he had been doing his job, he was always exhausted after the long days of filming. The last thing Shayne wanted to do was put in more physical labor but he made a promise and breaking a promise was not something he did. So, when he made his way back into the care center, he made sure L/n knew he was there to do what they needed to get done. 

   “I’m so grateful you still came to help.” They mentioned while they moved the enrichment items from the big gym to a storage closet. “I know that the last thing anyone wants to do after a long work day is renovation work. But I’m very thankful, Shayne.”

   The man squinted. “You know, now that I think about it, I don’t think I told any of you my name.”

   Y/n seemed to be too busy, conveniently, to look him in the face. “Hm...yeah? Huh…”

   When he didn’t say anything after a minute the worker groaned. They turned back to face him and scratched at the back of their head and scrunched their face up. “I...might be a fan. Of YouTube. A few different things...SMOSH things…”

   “Oh, well I’m honored.” He gave them a smile as if to placate their worry. “I don’t really run into too many fans here in L.A. Not that I’m complaining. But it’s nice to hear every so often.”

   “My niece got me into it with one of your sketches and I’ve been hooked since. You guys do good work. She watches them on days when being a teenager is too hard and they make her feel better. So, thank you, I guess.” L/n giggled as they resumed putting things on shelves.

  Shayne followed suit and the two kept busy organizing the storage room while talking about everyday things. At some point, when Shayne called them “Miss/Mr L/n”, they corrected him.

  “You can just call me ‘Y/n’. We’re not in a terribly professional relationship, right? You’re just helping out in the storage room for a few hours.” They said as they climbed up the shelf to reach the top of another. “Plus, I’d really just like to hear you say my name.”

   Shayne wasn’t sure he heard them right until he noticed that they stopped moving altogether. 

   “Please tell me that I said that on the inside and not on the outside…”

   The man gave a small chuckle. “I can’t do that. I’m not good at lying.”

   Y/n threw their head back, gave a big sigh, and began to climb down the shelving unit. At some point though, their foot had somehow slipped on something and they felt their body not going where they wanted it to. They then braced themself for the impact of their back meeting the floor but it never came. There was the feeling of two hands on their back gently pressing them in the direction of the shelving unit. One of the two hands moved from the middle of their back to their lower back and they were helped down. 

   “Jesus, Y/n. Do you have a ladder so you don’t do that again?” Shayne asked as they turned towards him.

   The worker didn’t answer, but instead hugged him. “I’m so freaking scared of heights and that was terrifying. Oh my God, thank you.”

   “Yeah, of course.” Shayne gently patted them on the back. “I’m glad I was here to make sure you didn’t get hurt.”

   “My heart literally fell. I know it wasn’t that far off of the ground but I don’t even like step ladders like I just really don’t…” They finally looked up into his eyes and they locked. “Uh…”

   After realizing they had stopped communicating for a moment, they pulled apart awkwardly. Shayne took a step back and shoved his hands into his coat pockets and looked anywhere that wasn’t at them. “Right. Well…”

   Y/n blushed but smiled in a humored way. “Shall we work on moving in the bigger items? The tunnels that are back in the gym need to be broken down and put against that wall. It should only take a few minutes. We won’t need anything else done tonight.”

   Shayne nodded and the two began the last bit of work before Y/n could begin painting. This time the two didn’t talk as much as they stole glances at each other. Sometimes they’d look at the same time and end up smiling like teenagers seeing their class crush. The rest of the evening went on like that until the playroom was emptied. Y/n dusted their hands off together and stretched. 

   “So, you’re painting this whole gym alone? Or are the other workers helping?”Shayne looked around trying to figure out what their plans were.

   “Oh, heavens no. There are some small decorative details that need to be painted and then we’re going to have the floor deep cleaned. I’m going to go through the storage rooms, all of them, and see if there’s anything that needs to be tossed out or what needs to be fixed. It’ll help us plan our budget for next year. I’m super stoked. I want to get some new activities for the pups. OH!” They then jogged to where their phone was sitting on a chair and started swiping through it.

   Shayne watched as they bit her lip and quickly searched for something. They had then made their way back to him and was angling the phone almost in his. They began to share with him their thoughts on what to get to improve on the indoor activities and he observed as they got enthralled with what they were talking about. He didn’t really understand all of it but he noted how excited they got when explaining the puppy teeter totter on their pinterest board. The picture captured a pit bull that was basically smiling as he was mid climb. They also gushed about how they were suckered into the item because of the smile. 

  “I’m a sucker for smiling pitties. It’s a curse, really. I can’t stand it.”

  “I think it’s pretty neat how excited you’re getting over this. I can’t wait to see how it ends up. These dogs are so lucky to be here with you looking after them.” The blonde actor had somehow ended up with one of his arms on the workers waist. “They’re going to love it.”

 “Yeah?” They turned into him.

  “Oh, absolutely.” He brought his other arm up to meet them together.

   They bit their lip as she kept their gazes locked. “You promise?”

   He just nodded.

   “I think Banana is very ready to go home!” A voice called from the other end of the gymnasium.

   The two broke apart and Shayne gave a self conscious cough. “Right..uh...I’ll see you tomorrow when I drop off Banana, Y/n?”

   The worker just nodded in response, watching the man leave the care center with the leashed dog.

   After Shayne got Banana in the car and he himself was buckled in, he grasped the wheel and sighed with an emotion he wasn’t sure he could identify. He ran his hand through his blonde hair and started the car. Before he put the car in reverse, he looked into the mirror and noticed Banana looking at him from the backseat.

   “I know, Banana. I shouldn’t. I don’t have the time for a relationship or the energy most days.”

   The dog blinked.

   “Blink one more time if you think this is a bad idea. Blink two more times if you think it’s a good idea.

   Banana responded by laying down, not blinking at all. She seemed to be too tired for Shayne’s love life drama.

   “Same, girl. Same.” He put the car in reverse and made his way out of the parking lot.

   The next day started off in a hurry. Shayne was late to dropping off Banana, so he didn’t see Y/n at drop-off. Somehow, though, he was still late to work even though he didn’t have any distractions, pleasant or unpleasant. He wasn’t quite sure which category Y/n fell into.

   When he eventually arrived at work (Late two days in a row, Shayne? You can’t opt out of Eat It or Yeet It if you’re not here to put your vote in.), he went straight to set for a SMOSHcast recording. He knew he’d be clowned for being any amount of late so he didn’t let it bother him. He just put on the headphones and jumped right into it.

   Advicecasts had become something he really enjoyed doing. He didn’t fully understand why people kept asking them for help but he loved doing it. He felt like it was a time he could truly give back to fans in a different way. Different questions and situations went through the conversation and Shayne was proud of himself for not letting his thoughts drift off too far.

   “Alright, this next one is one a few of us could relate to.” Ian, his boss, began. “It reads ‘I have this amazing job that I can’t believe I have, it’s a dream come true. But lately I’ve been thinking about dating and having a partner, I know it’s something I want in the end. I try looking but time and energy isn’t something my job offers. What would you guys do in this position?’”

   Sarah and Damien both gave “ooooh’s”. 

   “Well,” the producer seemed to take a second to collect her thoughts. “I think it really has a lot to do with where do you want to put your energy? Where do you want it going? In the end, what would you rather have in your hands? Your dream job or your dream partner? It’s a hard question to ask and answer, but you’re truly the only person that can make that decision. Maybe you can balance the both of them and make it work. That’s the ideal situation. But it might not workout that way. Honestly you’ll never know until you try. You have to actually get out there to try to figure out what it is you want more.”

   Shayne hoped it wasn’t obvious, but it probably was, that he slightly checked out after Sarah’s input. He had disregarded dating in its entirety because of his job. He was constantly on set, or traveling, or working on other projects that he was blessed to book.There wasn’t a point where he thought he’d be able to enjoy a relationship fully. But maybe if he put in the effort...now that SMOSH was running smoother since his most recent relationship...maybe it’d be ok? 

   Shayne walked up to the receptionist during pick-up to let them know he was there. When no one was at the desk, he walked himself to the playroom where he didn’t expect to see what was before him. Some of the dogs were laying on their backs just hanging out, and Y/n was there with them. They were laying on their back, also, staring at the ceiling. The whole thing looked super chill and Shayne wanted to join in.

   Y/n turned their head in his direction as he laid next to them. Their arms almost touching, They gave a gentle smile and the actor returned it. He was very surprised that none of the dogs jumped up to meet him when he walked in. Wasn’t that what dogs did?

   “It’s nap time.” Y/n explained as if they could read his mind. “We’re promoting a calm environment after the excitement of finding a mouse in the courtyard earlier today. Things got a little cray, but now we’re enjoying some quiet time.”

   After a moment, Shayne just barely felt something touch his hand closest to Y/n. Once he recognized it as their fingers, he closed the distance and just held their hand. Sarah was right. Shayne needed to put his energy towards the things he wanted the most. And what he wanted the most was to see what he and Y/n could become. He just had to go for it.

[illfoandillfie]

5 Simple Rules for a Successful Relationship: Blurb

This wasn’t requested by anyone but the idea has been kicking around my head basically since I wrote the Ben POV chapter

Warnings for fluff and smut but it’s all very soft

5 Simple Rules Series Masterlist

Blurb Advent Day 1

Taglist since it’s part of a series: @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies 

@coni-martina @hardforbenhardy @cubedtriangle @vicouscirce @arianabrashierstuff @pattieboydwannabe @maggieroseevans @theprettyandthereckless @friccinfricks 

Ben had it all planned out. He’d known how he was going to ask for a while, before he’d even picked out the ring. But, so far, he hadn’t been able to put his plan into action. As much as he wanted to ask it never quite felt like the right time. There was always something going on, somewhere to be – work or dinner with friends or general errands to sort out. But he knew how he wanted it to happen. He’d cook dinner, your favourite meal of course, followed by dessert made from scratch, really bring out the big guns. Afterwards he’d put on some music, a playlist of love songs he’d been adding to for months now, maybe ask you to dance. It was a little corny but sometimes corny was okay. Later on he’d pop into the kitchen and pull out your two mugs and place the ring in the bottom of yours before returning to the couch to sit with you. And then, at the usual time, he’d say he could really go with a hot drink before bed. He knew you’d volunteer to make them since he’d made dinner so he’d wait for you to leave the room before following. He’d listen for the gasp of surprise when you checked the mugs and saw the ring. That would be his cue to step into the room and get down on one knee and ask you to marry him. He had the speech ready to go too, knew what he wanted to say. How fast he’d fallen for you, how glad he was you were with him, how much he loved you.

Thinking about actually popping the question made Ben nervous. But the good kind of nervous. Of course the topic of weddings and marriage had come up before, abstractly. It was nearly unavoidable when his mum would not-so-subtly check for an engagement ring every time you visited, and then even less so when Gwilym got engaged and invited you both to the party. So he’d asked you about it, whether you had ever considered the whole settling down thing – marriage, kids, white picket fence, the lot. He was pleased to find out you liked the idea, had even imagined what the future might be like with him. The only thing you didn’t want was a public proposal which Ben fully supported. After all the attention you’d received as a result of the relationship, all the magazine articles and snapped photos while you were just trying to buy milk and bread, it felt wrong to voluntarily make such a private situation public. Ben was sure you’d be asked about it in future interviews and on social media and he wouldn’t mind sharing the story then, after he was sure you’d say yes. He had no reason to believe you wouldn’t but there was always that slight uncertainty, that intrusive doubt that made him wonder if you’d just tell him to bugger off instead. He found comfort in the plan though. Knowing exactly what he would do was reassuring. But even the best laid plans weren’t guaranteed.

Ben’s actual proposal caught him off guard as much as it did you. It was early on a Saturday, sometime between two and three. Usually you’d both be fast asleep but instead you were stumbling into the house, lit only by the grey light of the morning. You hadn’t meant to stay at the afterparty for so long but people kept handing you drinks and drawing you into conversations and music was still pumping through the speakers and before you knew it five more minutes had become a couple of extra hours. Ben emptied his pockets onto the hall stand as he watched you lean against the front door and kick off your shoes. He couldn’t resist catching you in a quick kiss before he wrapped his arm around you with a soft, “C’mon cuddle bunny,” and lead you towards the bathroom. Both of you set about brushing teeth and washing faces and changing into pyjamas. He chuckled as he watched you extract an almost obscene amount of bobby pins from your hair before you retied it to sleep in. But, even after everything was done and you’d both climbed under the covers, sleep didn’t come. Ben, eyes closed in an attempt to trick sleep into taking him, felt you move under his arm and peeked through his lashes to find you facing him.

“You okay?” His voice was hushed though there was no real need and when you responded yours was too.“Yeah just not really tired,” “Me neither,” “Do you wanna…?” “Now?” “Well just lying here waiting to drop off is a bit boring but I also don’t really feel like getting up,” “Alright then, why not.” “If you fall asleep half way through I won’t hold it against you,” “Shut up and take your pants off,” Ben laughed, already wriggling out of his. “You just didn’t sound very enthusiastic,” “I am always enthusiastic about this,” Ben forgot everything else he might have said as you pulled him into a kiss.

The sex itself was okay. Nothing special really. You’d had better sex plenty of other times, though you’d also had worse. The best way to describe it was fine. It wasn’t mind blowing but it was comfortable and reliable and fine. Ben felt a little clumsy as he kissed you back, his hand roaming over your side and down to your arse. He supposed the dark of the room and the drinks you’d both put down over the course of the night were having an impact, but, by the way you giggled against his lips, it seemed you found it cute more than anything else. To compensate for his inelegant fingers, Ben moved slowly, enjoying kissing you as much as he could. He hummed when you slid your hand down between your bodies and found his dick, stroking it unhurriedly. There wasn’t a need to go faster, no built up passion to release. The sex was a way to kill some time. Even when you hooked your leg over his and he sank into you, nothing really changed. But Ben knew what you liked and did his best to hit those spots as he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you again. He decided he must be doing something right based off the small keening noises you made. All the same he didn’t expect your next outburst, said softly right against his lips.

“God Ben, I want you inside me forever,” It slipped out before he could second guess himself, “Then marry me,” “What?” Ben paused his movement, not totally sure he’d actually said it until he drew back enough to look at you and saw the stunned expression you wore. His heart pounded as he realised this was it, this was the moment, “Might be easier to do that if we’re married is all. So, will you? Will you marry me?” It took a few moments for the question to sink in but once it had you nodded in agreement. You felt the same. “Yes?” “Yes.” “Yeah? You’ll marry me?” “Yes, yes, I’ll marry you,” Ben broke out into a grin and swept you into another kiss though he cut it off abruptly, “Wait, hold on,” somewhat ungracefully Ben pulled out of you and rolled out of the bed, switching on a lamp and heading over to his chest of draws. He dug around in one for a moment before he pulled out a small box which he brought back to the bed. Kneeling in front of you, he popped the box open to show you the ring before taking it and sliding it onto your finger.

You couldn’t help but stare, holding you hand out in front of you to see how it looked. It was beautiful, not too over the top but not exactly understated either, and it fit perfectly. When you raised you eyes back to Ben’s face you noticed his eyes glistening. “I love it Ben, I love you,” “I love you too Y/N,” he whispered back, kissing you again and laying you back down.

As Ben sank back into you, you placed your hand on his chest, picking up his body heat except where the cool metal of the ring lay. You could feel his heart beating under your palm as he rolled his hips against you, trying to finish what you’d started. It took a little while longer, though things moved less slowly than they had before the interruption of the proposal. Ben dropped his fingers to your clit as he felt you getting closer, drawing gentle circles until the warm wave rolled through you, pulling a soft sigh from your lips. He kept his fingers there as if to try to give you another orgasm, maybe one not quite so soft, but you pulled his hand away, linking his fingers with yours as you kissed his throat and encouraged him to finish too. It didn’t matter that your orgasm hadn’t been particularly powerful. All that mattered was that Ben was with you and he always would be.

Afterwards you curled up, leaning your head on Ben’s chest, his arm around you. He sighed contentedly and kissed the top of your head. “So much for sleeping,” he chuckled. “What we did was better than sleep,” “Definitely. And if we hold out for a little longer we could watch the sunrise,” “I don’t know if I’ll last that long,” “No, me neither. It’d be nice though,” You agreed and lapsed into a comfortable silence. And then a thought struck you, “You know, we’re going to need a cover story,” “What?” “People are going to want to hear the story of how you proposed. Felicity, Joe, Gwil, the rest of our friends, our families, not to mention paparazzi and the press, they’ll all ask.”  “Fuck.” “So you don’t want to look your mother in the eye and explain it happened mid shag either? Good to know we’re on the same page,” Ben laughed, “Funnily enough, that was very unplanned. I had something much more romantic and better prepared in mind when I thought about how I’d do it. A whole big speech about you being the love of my life and how I want to spend every day of my life making you feel happy and safe and loved,” “Go on then, what was it,” Ben explained his original idea, about the dinner and the mugs, all the while playing with your fingers as if he didn’t want to break contact.  “That does sound wonderful, but I have to admit, I really love how it actually happened,” “Me too,” he laughed, “But that’s good. Because now we have a story to tell everyone and a slightly more accurate story just for ourselves.”

[writtenonreceipts]

The fanfic no one asked for, not even me.  Based on characters from the Throne of Glass Series.

When Aelin and Elide have their car impounded by police, they turn to their boyfriends for help.  Modern AU.  Lorcan and Rowan are idiots together, bromance at its finest, I hope.

Boys Night Out

Despite the fact that he without a doubt loved his girlfriend and the fact that he would do anything for her—Rowan Whitethorn questioned her sanity more often than not.

“All I need is the cellphone charger,” Aelin assured him.  Her slim fingers straightened the collar of his shirt before slowly running down his chest.  A pert smile rested on her sinful mouth as she leaned into him.  “And when you get back, I promise to make it up to you.”

Rowan groaned tilting his head back when she pulled away.  She was going to be the death of him.

Humming to herself, Aelin flashed a dazzling smile as she delved deeper into the apartment she shared with her cousin.  Without saying anything else, she began putting away the dishes that he had washed just a few hours ago.  

“Aelin,” Rowan began, trying desperately to come up with excuses to get out her request.

“Charger, Whitethorn,” Aelin said.  She pointed a knife at him before sliding it into the wooden block holder beside the sink.

“And silver pumps!” Elide, Aelin’s cousin, sashayed into the kitchen from her room down the hall.  Her long, dark hair hung around her shoulders. She smiled pleasantly at Rowan. “I borrowed Manon’s shoes without her permission.  I need them back.”

Rowan looked between the two girls.  Between Aelin’s deft ability to throw a punch and sever a carotid artery and Elide’s charm and manipulation, Rowan knew he was cornered.

“I already called back up,” Elide said when Rowan hesitated.  She flashed a brilliant smile before winking at a cackling Aelin. “He’ll be here—”

A knock thudded against the front door of the apartment.  Without waiting for anyone to answer, the door swung open and Lorcan Salvaterre stood in the hall.  His ever-present scowl was carved deep into the sharp lines of his face, though his eyes softened when they landed on Elide.

“See,” Elide chirped glancing back to Rowan, “back-up.”

The two men glared at each other.  They’d been close friends, up until Rowan started seriously dating Aelin.  Since, they’d only seen brief spurts of each other. Thing improved, barely, when Lorcan and Elide began seeing each other.  Still, there was unresolved tension between the friends that Rowan had no idea how to fix.

“Great,” Rowan said.

#

“So, you’re saying that Aeilin’s car got impounded and she can’t live eight hours without her charger?” Lorcan asked as the two stalked around the outer fence of the Adarlan impound lot.

It was barely one o’clock in the morning making everything take on a dull stillness.  Gratefully there was an almost full moon over head making the yellow streetlights a little less eerie.  

“And Elide’s shoes,” Rowan added.  He stared at the chain-link fence topped with barbed wire.  “You think there are cameras?”

Lorcan grunted from beside him and hefted a large black bag from off his shoulder.  “I came prepared.”

Tying his black hair out of the way, Lorcan opened the bag and pulled out a sleek black weapon.

“You brought your paintball gun?” Rowan asked, quirking a brow. “Seriously?”

“Always be prepared,” Lorcan said.  He glanced over his shoulder at Rowan. “We were in boy scouts together, remember?”

“You hated boy scouts.”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t pay attention.”

Rowan didn’t even want to know why Lorcan had a paintball gun ready and able in his car.  

Kneeling next to the fence, Lorcan readied the gun.  It was outfitted with a scope and everything.  This was a bad idea.  But Rowan had no room to protest as Lorcan took aim and shot out the camera perched on a tall post in the middle of the yard.  It was a direct hit.

“Scouts?” Rowan asked unable to help the grin.

“You try playing paintball with Elide,” Lorcan replied.  A ghost of a smile flashed across his mouth.  “Ruthless.”

As would be expected of the petite girl.  An old injury left her with a slight limp, but Elide never let that stop her.  And while Rowan hadn’t spoken with Lorcan much in the past few months, he knew that a girl like Elide was just what his friend needed in his life.  

“I’d say we have twenty minutes before security notices us,” Rowan said as Lorcan put the gun away. He put a hand on the fence and rattled it gently.  There was a padlock and chains keeping it in place, obviously, but Rowan wondered if there was a way to slip between the two fence parts.  

“You think there’s dogs?” Lorcan asked.  He peered through the fence only slightly wary.

“You’re not afraid are you Salvaterre?” Rowan mocked.

“Dogs don’t like me.”

“I thought I heard Elide say you were going to adopt one?”

“She,” Lorcan emphasized, “she is going to adopt one.”

Rowan snorted back a laugh and examined the fence again.  “I don’t hear anything.  You know Mayor Havilliard’s cut police funding, there’s no dogs.  Now start climbing.”

Lorcan cursed, but indeed began to climb.  It was only when the two men reached the top of the fence, face to face with the barbed wire that they paused.

“My jacket’s leather,” Lorcan said.  He glanced at Rowan.

“So, I’ll just sacrifice my shirt then?” Rowan looked down at his button up.  It had been a hot day and the night had contained that heat leaving it unnecessary for more than a long-sleeved shirt.

They examined the barbed wire.

“Oh hell,” Lorcan said. With surprising ease, he slipped out of his jacket and slung it over the barbed wire.  As he hefted himself as best he could over the top of the fence, he tried to remember why he’d agreed to this plan. “Because you love her, because you love her.”

“What?” Rowan hissed as Lorcan descended the other side of the fence.

“Reminding myself why the hell I’m here!” Lorcan snapped back.  He dropped down the last five feet, landing in a crouch. “Don’t rip my jacket.”

“You sound like Aelin talking about her nightgowns,” Rowan said.

“I did not need to hear that.”

Rowan barked out a laugh and pulled himself and Lorcan’s jacket over the fence.  He received no scratched himself, but there was no mistaking the soft rip of one of the sharp barbs on the jacket.  

Cursing thoroughly, Lorcan snatched the jacket from Rowan after he’d landed.  In the dim light of a few overhead lamps, he examined the rip at the left shoulder.

“Think of it this way,” Rowan said bumping into him lightly, “you can put some more of your boy scouting days to use.  Wasn’t there a sewing badge?”

“Shut-up,” Lorcan said. He yanked the jacket back on and stared mournfully at the rip.

Rowan didn’t wait.  He had a sinking feeling that they weren’t going to get out of this alive.  Well, alive yes.  But completely free?  Unlikely. Especially if Chaol was an on-duty cop tonight.  He was a good buy but had too much damn honor to let things go sometimes.

“Silver Lexus,” Rowan said. He looked over the lot and saw mostly beat up trucks or Toyota Corollas composed of ten different car parts.  Was this the impound lot or the junkyard? Hell, it was going to be a long night.

“Of course the bitch-queen has a Lexus,” Lorcan muttered.

Rowan was certain his friend hadn’t meant to say it so he could hear, but Rowan had hearing better than most.  He stooped over and grabbed a piece of plastic that had fallen off the bumper of the car next to him.  He tossed it at Lorcan.  The other man dodged the attack with ease and cast Rowan a vulgar gesture.

“Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that,” Rowan said.  He glowered in Lorcan’s direction.  Jaw setting, Lorcan shrugged and continued the search.

In all honesty, Rowan wasn’t certain what had transpired between the two.  But in all the time Lorcan and Aelin had known each other, which was nearing on two years, there was little diplomacy or kindness shared.

Lorcan turned away from Rowan so he couldn’t see his reaction, but something told him it involved eye rolling.

“She’s a good person,” Rowan called out as the search continued.  He glanced over to see Lorcan had launched himself onto the hood of a red corvette.  Given that Lorcan was practically a giant, the action seemed a bit overkill to Rowan. “If you’d give her the chance you might actually like her.”

He heard a dark chuckle echo across the distance between them, but no answer beyond that.

“Sure, be all broody, is that what Elide calls it?  Silent and broody.”  Rowan said. He mostly just wanted to get a rise out of Lorcan, see how far he could push his friend.  And of course, try and get to the bottom of the hostility that always seemed to be brewing. “Broody, broody, broody.”

“Whitethorn would ya shut-up?”

Rowan grinned and ducked down to peer through a car window, maybe he was missing something in the other row.  If this was some wild goose chase Aelin had constructed, Rowan was going to murder her. Even if it meant facing Elide. And Aedion.  And Lysandra.  He’d need to think the murder through.

The two searched in silence for another few minutes before Lorcan let out a sharp whistle.  “Over here.”

Rowan wove through the rows of cars until he reached Lorcan’s side.  They stared at the sleek Lexus where it nestled between a Ford and a conglomerate contraption of at least four different cars.  Aelin would have a fit if she could see her car now.

“Let’s get the stuff and get out,” Rowan said.  Thankfully, Aelin had given him the spare keys to the car.  As he unlocked the doors, Lorcan stiffened.

“Did you hear that?” Lorcan asked.  His eyes narrowed and he looked around the lot.  

Rowan threw open the driver side door and paused.  He glanced toward the old guard station, but it was black, looking distinctly empty. Whatever Lorcan had heard didn’t sound again.  Slumping into the car, Rowan poked around for Aelin’s charger.  The car, miraculously was kept clean.  A miracle considering how much chocolate cake Aelin ate on a regular basis and how often her snacking occurred in her car.  The lingering scent of her perfume wafted from the seats and despite how annoyed he was at this lucrative situation; Rowan made a note that he should buy Aelin both chocolate cake and another bottle of perfume.

He found the charger in the glove box.  “Found the charger.  I don’t see the shoes.”

Rowan straightened to see Lorcan was still examining every inch of the lot.  His brow furrowed in concentration.  Rowan was about to ask what was the matter when he heard the distinct howl of a dog.

“Crap,” Rowan said. He and Lorcan met gazes, neither moving. “Someone could be walking by?”

Lorcan shot him a withering look when the bark came again.  Louder and definitely closer.  “Oh hell,” Lorcan hissed.  The bark was joined by another dog.  “Oh hell, oh hell.”

“Lorcan get the damn shoes!” Rowan yelled already spinning away from the car.

Lorcan dove into the front door, half splayed over the front seat as he dug around the back of the car. He flung one sliver pump over his shoulder to where it settled on the front seat.  The other soon followed.  Wiggling and cursing, Lorcan dragged himself out of the car, shoes in hand.  He looked half-wild with his hair splayed over his face, dark eyes wide.

“Run you idiot!” Lorcan said.  He clutched the shoes to his chest and dashed past Rowan as the barking took up in earnest.

“I’m not wearing the right shoes for this.”  Rowan stuffed Aelin’s charger in his pocket and launched himself atop the closest car. His shoes, indeed were not conducive to jumping on top of cars and sprinting passed pissed off guard dogs. For some stupid reason he was still in his sleek office shoes that had no traction whatsoever.  This is what he got for getting a 401K and benefits.

“You’re worried about your shoes?” Lorcan yelled back.  He was already halfway back to the front fence intermittently jumping onto the hood of various cars and back down to avoid raging Cujo’s.

“You have your jacket, I have my shoes,” Rowan called.  

The dog leaping toward him was a Doberman with sharp ears and sharper teeth.  It snarled at him chomping its jaws wildly.  With dexterity he’d forgotten he had, Rowan launched himself over the hood of the car behind Aelin’s and over the top towards a beat-up truck that was massive enough it should prevent the dog from getting to close.

“Rowan, get your ass over here!” Lorcan bellowed.

Launching himself on top of the truck, Rowan ran over the tops of the row of cars toward Lorcan.  The dark-haired man was already out of his leather jacket and climbing the barbed fence. Despite his bulk, Lorcan could move damn fast if he wanted.

From somewhere behind Rowan the dogs gave chase.  He could hear the heavy breathing, the nails on pavement, the growls.  And then came the human shouts.

“Hey!  Adarlan Police!” The voice, thankfully didn’t sound like Chaol’s.  Though maybe Chaol would have been more pliable to let Rowan and Lorcan off with a warning.

In three long lunges, Rowan made it the final distance to the fence and began climbing.  Lorcan was already up and over the fence, the bag with the paintball gun slung on his shoulder.  

Rowan hauled himself unceremoniously over the top of the fence, grabbing Lorcan’s jacket in one fist and scrambling down the other side.  He dropped too high off the ground, but managed to stick the landing. He looked over his shoulder in time to see the Doberman launch at the fence, claws rattling against the metal and slobber flecking out from it’s mouth.

“Hell,” Rowan gasped.

Lorcan grabbed his arm and began pulling him down the side walk in a brisk walk that quickly turned into a run.  The two didn’t stop until they were as far from the impound lot they could get. Rowan’s car left forgotten along the street.  They’d been so desperate to get away and avoid any sort of detection that the car seemed to scream trouble.  

Nearly ten blocks later, after several pauses to curse Aelin for parking in an illegal zone, Rowan and Lorcan sagged against a the side of a building near a popular club.  Music pulsed around them as well as the thick stench of smoke, alcohol, and vomit.  

Lorcan spat before looking at Rowan. “So remind me, what is it about her you like so much?  Her wilds schemes that land her into trouble?  Or her wild schemes that land others into trouble?”

“You’re one to talk,” Rowan fired back.  He brushed his hair out of his eyes. “You and Elide are polar opposites.”

“She sends you out at two o’clock in the morning to get a phone charger,” Lorcan continued.

“You’re holding onto those shoes like they’re gonna save your life.”

“Have you met Manon?”

Rowan snorted and shook his head.  He paused as the bass from the club behind them rumbled.  Whatever he said wasn’t going to help Lorcan see Aelin in a different light.  But he could hope that it would mend whatever bridge had been broken between him and one of his oldest friends.

“Aelin makes me want to be a better person,” Rowan finally said.  He shrugged glancing Lorcan over.  “And I have a feeling the same could be said for Elide about you.”

Lorcan said nothing. He merely leaned his head against the brick behind them.

“Plus, I know I can do this,” Rowan added.  He pulled his phone from his pocket and made a phone call.  When the line connected, he grinned.  “Hey Fireheart.  We need a ride.”

[jadekitty777]

On Your Six, Chapter 2

And thus we come to another day, another chapter.

Day 2: Stealing Hoodies for @taiqrowweek

Rating: T for this chapter, M for overall

Words: 3k

Summary: Qrow was what most of society would call a small-town criminal. But to those oppressed, he hoped only to be a healer. In an effort to make a change in the world, he moves from kingdom to kingdom, searching for branded omegas in need. His goal? To turn the derogatory words the reformatories forced them to bear on their skin into works of art.

Then one day, his past catches up to him in the form of Taiyang, his former best friend, with a brand of his own stained onto his skin and a plea for help in his eyes. Qrow has no choice but to answer, even if it means he’d have to face his mistakes once and for all.

[An ABO-style universe in a modern-day style Remnant. No Grimm, because people are the real monsters in this one]

Ao3 Link: On Your Toes

~

Tai rolled in Sunday with a brisk breeze and a hint of last night’s rain following him. The awkward timidness he’d had, had evaporated quicker than the puddles outside, burned away into steely determination as he got right down to business. “Alright, so, how do you want me?”

Qrow nodded to his bed, the recliner having been pushed up alongside it. His kit was sitting on the nightstand. “Take off your shirt and lie down.”

“Gee, at least buy me dinner first.”

He supposed he walked right into that one.

“Hah. Let’s see if you have any jokes left after we pass the fourth hour.” He strode over to his chair, fetching a roll of paper towels on his way. “I told you we’d be at this for a while. Trust me, you’ll be glad to be in a more comfortable position.”

Qrow had calculated it. He’d have six sessions per letter. At eight to ten hours per session, he’d have a range of 48 to 60 hours per design. It seemed like a lot of time, but drawing on paper wasn’t quite the same as drawing on people. Paper didn’t need potty breaks, for example, and it tended to stay stationary the entire time. Add on to the fact this was easily the biggest project he’d ever undertaken, and he knew he was going to need every second he could get.

At least I won’t be enduring it alone, he thought as he watched Tai kick off his shoes and shirt and climb onto the bed. Qrow poured the alcohol onto one of the paper towels, and as he dabbed at the other’s skin, he noticed the face the other man was making. “Sorry, guess it’s a little strong.”

“It’s not that.” Tai said, rubbing his nose. “Uh, not to be your maid or anything but, you really need to wash your sheets.”

For a split second, Qrow was offended. Then the realization hit. “Oh. You’re smelling the ink.” He indicated the row of bottles organized in the case. The only one he’d need today, the black, was sitting next to his rotary machine. “I mix it with my own pheromones. It helps neutralize the stench.”

The omega reached for the little bottle, giving it a whiff. His eyebrows shot up and suddenly, he was staring at it like it held the meaning of life. “That’s… incredible. But won’t that give me away?”

“Not when your RO can’t smell her way out of a canteen.” They were all betas. Being the neutral dynamic meant there was no risk of ‘going soft’ on their parolee like an omega might, nor get over-protective like an alpha absolutely would. But it also meant that after Qrow finished relining the tattoos, the dramatic shift to Tai’s scent would be almost undetectable. “And if she does notice, just tell her you’re trying out a new perfume.”

“That smells like matchsticks and blueberries?”

“You’ll be fine. You’re good at improvising.”

As Tai eased himself back down, he finished sanitizing his back, then moved on to getting himself ready. He double-checked the machine, made sure the parts were in place and the wire running back to the outlet was untangled and slack. Taped the paper copy of the design over the edge of his nightstand and uncapped the ink bottle. “So, this is how this works.” Qrow said as he pulled on his gloves, “You need to be as still as possible. We’re gonna have a five-minute break every hour, give you a chance stretch and move around. We’ll stop a bit longer half way in or so to eat. But if you need me to stop for any other reason just let me know. And uh, fair warning – when I start tattooing over the letter itself, it’s gonna hurt like a bitch.”

Tai nodded. “Got it.”

“Okay.” He dipped the needle and turned on the pen, the quiet buzzing filling the room. “Here we go.”

The moment needle met skin, he felt muscle tense under his hand. Spotted the way Tai’s toes curled in his socks and his face screwed shut. Qrow continued on slowly as he looped one line from the top of the S and connected it to down the middle, then did it again from the bottom part of the S. By the time the S had turned into an 8, the omega had relaxed again, sighing softly. He took that as a sign to continue and started coloring in the new side.

Hour one passed in complete silence.

~

“So, how’s it looking?” Tai asked, swiveling his head around. If he tried any harder, he might become an owl.

Qrow watched him from the stove. “Most of the line art on the top is finished.” He turned on the burners for the kettle and pot of water. “Should be fine to get the rest done in a few hours.”

“I can’t believe how fast it’s going.”

“Yeah well, this is the easy part.” He opened the pantry, eyeing over the options. “Wait until we get to coloring. I have to switch between needles for shading and clean between them.”

There was a dragging noise as one of the dining room chairs was pulled back. “I’m sorry it’s so much work. We don’t have to do all that, if you don’t want.”

Qrow was grateful only his shelves could see his scowl. He breathed out slow, pulled down the pork-flavored ramen packets, saying casually as he went back to the stove, “I mean if you’re too scared to keep going…”

“I didn’t say that! I’m just trying to be nice.” Tai grumbled the last past.

I don’t need you to be nice to me! Frustration welled in him, but he forced it back down. Getting angry wasn’t going to help. Even if this extremely complacent, easily guilted Tai made him want to go out and burn down every Gods’ damned reformatory there was. “Forget about it. I’m too much of a perfectionist to half-ass my work anyways.” He tried to brush off. But now Tai had that kicked puppy look that told him he was feeling bad, which only made Qrow feel bad in turn, so he deflected instead, “I mean, unless it’s too much for you. You’ve been quiet. Is it hurting that bad?”

“Oh, no it’s fine. I, uh,” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Didn’t want to distract you.”

“You won’t.” He cracked the bags in half twice, tearing open the pack. “And it helps pass the time.” He dropped the ramen noodlesinto the water that was just starting to bubble and got the mugs down for tea, absolutely refusing to look at the other lest he read all over his face just how much he missed talking to him.

“Well… besides illegal tattooing in the tiniest apartment known to man on the shady side of town, what else have you been up to?”

The kettle was picked up just as it began to whistle. Like the cups filling with water, Qrow opened his mouth and let the words flow out just as easy.

~

As evening approached, another storm blew in. Rain drops smattered against the window every time the wind picked up, drowning out the noise of his pen. Qrow had rearranged his furniture, putting the recliner and nightstand in opposite positions so he could work on the lower half of the design in the 8. His focus was completely on the coastline coming to life over tanned skin.

“Remember that time we snuck out your window so we could put all those plastic rats on Professor Port’s porch for April Fool’s Day?”

Well, maybe not completely.

Qrow snickered. They had camped out in the bushes until dawn, just so they could take the TA’s picture when he came out to get his morning paper. “His face was priceless.”

“Not sure the punishment was worth it though.” Tai bemoaned.

“It was only a week’s detention.”

“For you. I got three month’s grounding on top of it.”

He reinked his pen. “Which you immediately broke by coming to my house every day.”

Tai took the brief pause as a chance to scratch his nose. “I never would have got caught if dad didn’t go home early that one time.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. My ears are still ringing from that lecture.” He flipped back on the pen and continued working on the islands that would split the sea from the sky.

The omega cleared his throat, deepening his voice just enough it was an almost disturbingly perfect imitation of his father, “‘If you don’t want to land yourself into juvie, then you’ll stop leading my son into a life of delinquency.’”

Qrow grinned, continuing for him and really hamming it up, “’Don’t you know my delicate boy’s future depends on finding a proper and upstanding alpha?’”

“He didn’t say delicate.” But Tai was laughing with him.

“Might as well have.” It wouldn’t have been too off-base for the Xiao Longs. They’d always been the traditional, overbearing types, trying to jumpstart every little bit of their only son’s future in every possible avenue. When they’d been young, it always seemed like Tai was going to some lesson or appointment. Swimming. Woodworking. Jeet Kune Do. It had been so excessive it had given his own mother ideas – but at least she let Raven and him choose what they wanted to learn.

After looking through the primordial alpha courses, Raven had chosen fencing.

Qrow had wanted to go with her but there was nothing like that in the omega pamphlets he’d been given. In the end, he kicked his feet all the way to his first few art lessons.

His dad had been pretty ticked off they’d wasted the money when, a few years later, puberty had Qrow shooting up past six feet and presenting as an alpha.

But that was nothing compared to the nuclear war that went off when, just shortly after his fourteen birthday, the Xiao Longs discovered Tai was an omega. The lessons stopped and the strict rules started. No going out past seven o’ clock. No cursing. No dating. No kissing. No sex. And especially, no alphas in the house. Ever.

By the time Tai was fifteen, he’d already broken every single one of them.

Qrow, who hadn’t exactly been an angel himself, thought it was hilarious and maybe encouraged him a bit more than he should have. But honestly, what did anyone expect of either of them? After being caged in like a defenseless pup, he was finally allowed break free and be a little reckless. Meanwhile, Tai refused to be shoved into that same cage, smashing through the doors all on his own. They’d been quite a pair, back in the day.

Nostalgia hit him in a wave. “How are your folks doing these days?”

“They’re fine. Dad’s started a new garden. And Mom’s been talking about renovating the old cabin house we used to vacation at. Said it would be a good place for the girls to enjoy. I was gonna help but…” Tai trailed off, his eyes glazing over a bit. “They wrote to me a few times while I’d been…. yanno.”

Something bitter built in his chest. A long-forgotten fury that had weighed on him when his mother had likewise been ripped from their family to stay at a reformatory and the only comforts he’d got was from the Xiao Longs reassuring him she’d come back as a ‘better omega’. “I’m certain they were just bursting with encouragement and support.”

“Definitely isn’t winning any motivational speech awards.” He joked humorlessly.

There was a quiet lull. Qrow took it as a chance to re-ink and stretch out the crick stiffening his fingers.

As he lowered the needle once more, Tai spoke up, hesitant. “What about you? Heard from your family at all?”

He frowned, knowing there was only one of those two people he actually cared to hear about. He indulged him regardless. “Well, you know my old man. Probably still doesn’t even know I’m gone.” He tapped his pen down, drawing the m-shapes that were meant to be a couple of gulls flying away in the sky. “As for Raven, haven’t seen her for years. Not sure she could find me.” When he paused to survey his work, he couldn’t help but think that the shapes really could have been any birds. “Even if she could, doubt she’d want to.”

The kicked puppy look was back. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.” Qrow lied, as if the last argument he and Raven ever had wasn’t entirely about Taiyang. But he didn’t need to know about that.

~

“You left? Raven you can’t leave!”

“Don’t growl at me. And anyways, what’s the problem?”

“The problem is Tai’s your mate. You guys have a daughter!”

“And that means I’m bound to him for life? We made a mistake! We were dumb kids. It happens.”

“So you just pack up your shit and tell him ‘good fucking luck’? He loves you! How can you act like that doesn’t matter?”

“…”

“Well?!”

“Really, little brother?”

“Wh-”

“If you want to go and play house with him, be my guest. But don’t project your feelings onto me. This is my life. My choice.”

“…Yeah. Yeah, I guess throwing people out of your life is a fucking choice. Just don’t be surprised when you get the same in return.”

“Are you seriously-”

“Get out. And until you get your head out of your ass, don’t bother coming back!”

~

Qrow taped down the bandage over Tai’s back, the antibiotic cream he’d spread along the new tattoo squishing against the adhesive. He ran through the aftercare steps almost subconsciously. “Keep this on until you go to bed. When you do take it off, wash it with warm water and soap. Do that a few times a day tomorrow and the next day too. If anything seems wrong, just call me.”

“Got it.” Tai reached for his shirt. At least he’d had the foresight to bring a button up. As he pulled it on, he gave Qrow a crooked little smile that made him look adorably boyish. “Same time next week then?”

“Uh, yeah.” He slipped off the bed, making a great show of looking for the other’s shoes. His cheeks felt a little less hot by the time he was returning to the bedside with them. “We’ll have to work on the U next. I’ll keep sending you designs, but a little direction would help.”

Tai slipped into his shoes, getting to his feet. “I don’t really have the eye for this kind of stuff. Just pick something easy.”

“Feel like I’m having a case of déjà vu here.” Qrow huffed, tapping a finger to the center of Tai’s chest. “This is your body Tai, not mine. So could you please put just a mite bit more effort into something you’re gonna have to wear the rest of your life?”

The other’s eyes widened before he looked away. He made an aborted motion towards his neck, fell short, and worried the corner edge of his collar between his fingers. “Could you do words?”

“Yeah.” He replied haltingly, taken aback by the sudden shift. “I’ll probably want to craft stencils to keep the script nice though – and no, it’s not hard.”

Tai nodded, another one of those not-quite smiles on his face. “Then I think I do know what I want for this one. I’ll send you some pictures later tonight.”

“Well… good! See was that so hard?”

“Immensely.” He answered, laying it on thick as honey.

Qrow jabbed him in the shoulder. “Don’t oversell it prima donna. You should start heading home, unless you’re planning on doing a rendition of Singing in the Rain out there.”

Tai spared a look to the window. “It’s really coming down out there, isn’t it?” The sky had darkened with the setting sun, making the already heavy clouds appear thick and ominous. Rain battered against his window at a continuous rate. The minute the omega left the complex, he was going to be soaked. “Think this’ll be okay?” He waved vaguely to his left shoulder where the tattoo began on the other side of.

“Mm, probably. But I guess a little extra cover wouldn’t hurt.” He crossed over to his little box of a closet, rummaging through the sparse selection. “This’ll work. It’s a bit oversized for me, so it should be perfect for you. Here.”

He snapped the black hoodie off its hanger, tossing it. Tai caught it. “You’re sure?”

“What are you gonna do to it? Dye it pink?”

“Well now that’s a thought. It’d match your eyes.”

“My eyes aren’t pink!”

Tai’s laughter was muffled in fabric as he gingerly slipped the hoodie on, being as mindful as possible of his back. By the time his head popped back out, his hair was all mussed up.

It was unfairly cute and Qrow tried very hard not to think about it as he walked him to the door.

Tai stepped into the hall, then paused, turning back to him. He reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey uh, thank you. For all this. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Qrow was pretty sure the touch was electric, because he was suddenly paralyzed. How he even got his jaw to work was a miracle in and of itself. “Don’t mention it.”

The omega hesitated, as if he wanted to argue, but only said, “Sure. I’ll see you soon Qrow.”

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, but it was long after Tai had left the hall that he finally found the strength to close the door, slumping against the wood with a pitiful groan.

He thought he was over this. He should be over this. He wasn’t a lovesick teen anymore and this wasn’t a romantic comedy where after a bunch of wild, misleading antics, everything came together in the end. He’d lost his chance – twice over apparently. It was useless to try now.

So why did his stupid, pathetic heart still yearn?

“Come on Qrow.” He knocked his head against the door, hoping to rattle some sense into himself. “You did this for six years. You can do it again for six months.”

As he trod his way back to his bed, falling into it only to realize it smelt like Tai and would continue to every Sunday for weeks, he burrowed his head in his pillow and screamed.

Six was becoming a very unlucky number for him.

[annaventimiglia]

Lost In The Wild

Imagine trying jam out to Lost In The Wild with (young adult) Jess while you work on your latest drawing and he reads a book but you both wind up dancing instead.

    Anna and Jess were in the apartment above the dinner, spending their afternoon off relaxing together. Luke didn't live here anymore so he let Jess and I live here as long as we worked at the diner during the week. The area where Luke's bed once was got transformed into a study for Jess to work on his writing and Jess' old single bed was replaced with a king sized one, aside from that not much changed. Anna laid on her stomach while she drew a picture of her fiance and Jess used her butt as a pillow while a reading one of the books she recommended to him, A Murder for Her Majesty by Beth Hilgartner.

    Lost In The Wild by Walk The Moon played on their radio, electro wasn't Jess' normal taste in music but he knew you moved it so he listened to it anyways. Anna hummed along quietly until the song started, "Eyelids split at sunrise, morning breaks like splatter paint." Jess put his book down and listened to her sing, "Wipe the dust from my eyes, you must have left before morning came." He smiled and climbed out of the bed, offering you a hand which you gladly took.

    Jess pulled you off the bed so that you could dance together while you sang along to the lyrics, "Flashes of the night come rushing in, in a stampede of misbehaviors." Jess pulled you close and sang to you, "Just a sophomore running my mouth, I really thought that I could save us." The two of you just let the chorus play in the background while you enjoyed each other's company.

And we're only animals

Didn't mean to start a forest fire

Brush the ashes off your shoulders

Let's get lost in the wild

We're all built for something

Trying to find a starting line

Don't look over your shoulders

Let's get lost in the wild

Let's get lost in the wild

Let's get lost in the wild

    Jess started singing to you again while holding you close, "Something shocks my muscles, hard rain backhands my senses" He looked deep into your eyes, loving being so close to you, "Now I'm flying fast on my feet, skipping rivers, clearing them fences." You started singing again, "I'm tracking you into the city. Ooh, under the pressure of the traffic lights." You smiled up at the raven haired boy, "I'm chasing the clues you left me, that you might still join me in the wild."

And we're only animals

Didn't mean to start a forest fire

Brush the ashes off your shoulders

Let's get lost in the wild

We're all built for something

Trying to find a starting line

Don't look over your shoulders

Let's get lost in the wild

Let's get lost in the wild

Let's get lost in the wild

    Jess spun you both around while he sang to you, "Scratches on my hands and feet, you belong out here with me." He smiled and cupped your face with his right hand, the other holding your hip while both your hands rested on his chest, "Tearing up my hands and feet, you belong out here with me." He pulled you in for a kiss which you gladly returned, your bodies fitting together like two perfect puzzle pieces.

You belong out here with me,

I'm flying fast on my feet.

And we're only animals

Didn't mean to start a forest fire

Brush the ashes off your shoulders

Let's get lost in the wild

We're all built for something

Trying to find a starting line

Don't look over your shoulders

Let's get lost in the wild

Let's get lost in the wild

Let's get lost in the wild

Let's get lost in the wild

Let's get lost in the wild

(666 words)

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Resol’nare - Part Four

A/N: Making jokes in tense situations is my coping mechanism and it is also Navina’s. And neither of us are funny under pressure. We sure do try though. 

*this story will regularly be using words in Mando’a. for a good list of references click here.*

Summary: With Navina and Firo off to hit an abandoned Imperial base on Nevarro in hopes of scoring a hot new ride that won’t litter bolts all over the galaxy like the Flare will, and Mando responding to Cara’s holo about a beskar sighting, the stage is set for an introduction to remember... and hopefully not a bloody one. 

Warnings: talk of death, violence, weapons, language 

Word Count: 4.8k

Nevarro. 

“You sure about this, Nav?” Firo peered through a pair of binocs, turning a dial on the side to zoom in. He had them pointed at the fenced off facility that they had cased out shortly after landing on the volcanic planet. Abandoned by the Empire twice now, the base, carved into the side of a cliff out past the lava flats, had still not been addressed by the New Republic. Although it was clear from their cursory recon that the place had taken some recent damage, it appeared as though it still housed plenty of small ships and speeders. 

The plan had originally been to fly in on the Flare, Firo’s current ship, and set down on the landing pad. They’d discussed it first in the caves on Yavin, Firo sharing the location of the base and what limited information he had heard from a fellow smuggler over a game of Sabacc. Rumored to have no security detail, not even droids, they had figured that it would be an easy job. Load up the Flare and another small ship with a few speeders that they could sell on the black market, then split up, Firo in his ship and Navina in the one previously owned by the Empire. The goal was to be in and out and off of the planet so quickly that even if there were cameras or sensors on the base, they’d be long gone before anyone could turn up to stop them. And that had seemed completely feasible. Until now. 

Plans have never really been my thing anyway. “I’m sure.” Besides, this might actually work out to my benefit...

Pulling the lenses away from his eyes, he turned to face her. “Even though the Marshal is-” 

“Since when has a Marshal ever stopped us, Firo?” She shot him her cockiest smirk, casually crossing her ankles as she leaned her palm against the Flare’s hull. “Since when has-” Her friend gritted his teeth and tried to stop her, but it was too late. The panel she’d chosen to press her weight into gave under pressure, the metal creaking as it dented inwards sending Navina off balance. “Woah!” Firo sucked air through his teeth as he reached out to help her catch herself, but she brushed him off with a huff that he knew she had to work hard not to allow to turn into a laugh. “Alright, on an unrelated note, you need to have that looked at.” She pointed at the flimsy piece that upon closer inspection she realized had been poorly soldered on in an attempt to reinforce a previous repair. Shaking her head, she looked up at the ship and then back at Firo. “I can’t believe I got on this thing and flew here with you.” 

“Hey!” He tried to keep a straight face too, but a snicker threatened to turn into a full blown snort if he didn’t let it out. “Alright, yeah, she needs some work.” That’s the understatement of the century. “Still beats taking a commuter shuttle though, Harsa,” he teased, knowing that she had had to put up with a series of shuttle transfers to get to Yavin from Coruscant, and that it was her least favorite way to travel the galaxy. 

“Not if she falls apart the second you make the jump to hyperspace,” she teased back. He couldn’t come up with anything quickly enough, so she steered the conversation back to the task at hand. “But as I was saying, we’ve always been able to get around the Marshals we’ve come across. We’ll just have to... “ She shrugged. “Improvise.” With that, she turned and headed around the back of the ship to climb the ramp. Taking a large step up as the ramp no longer opened all the way, she sighed. This ship is a kriffing disaster. 

“Improvise?” Firo followed her around and hoisted himself up onto the ramp as she started rifling through her bag to gather what she would need. He crossed his arms and tilted his head, watching as she pulled two comm links from an inner compartment. 

Navina blew into one of them, then tapped the receiving end to make sure it was still in working order. “Yeah,” she said, tossing it to him with a grin. He snatched it out of the air and tucked it into the front pocket of his pants. “Improvise.” She checked the second comm link, giving it a shake for good measure before hiding it away under her shawl. 

Firo waited for her to look back up at him to respond. “We are pretty good at that.” 

“Good? Who’s better?” She asked with a wink, turning back to her bag to dig out her armor. “Remember that time on Onderon?” She pulled out a purple painted shoulder pauldron, untwisting the leather straps that were used to keep it in place. “When we-”  

“Nav?” He cut her off then, walking completely through the doorway to stand in front of her, and she knew instantly that he was concerned. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and set the second pauldron on top of the first one, the durasteel clinking softly. With a sigh, he went on, green-gold eyes narrowing briefly and his lips turning down into a slight frown. “I know there’s... something you’re not telling me.” 

She stiffened, a sudden wave of guilt making her wince. He’s right. There was a lot she hadn’t told him, and while she had reasoned that the less he knew about some of her plans the safer he’d be, she also knew better than to think that he wouldn’t be able to tell when she was being withholding. He knows me better than anyone, of course he knows that I’m… that something’s… “Firo, I-” 

“Look,” he placed a hand on her shoulder, gently turning her the rest of the way so that he could look straight at her as he spoke. “I didn’t want to say anything on Yavin, because I know that,” his forehead furrowed and he swallowed as he dropped his arm back to his side. “I know... what time of the year it is. I know that,” he shook his head and dropped his chin. “I know you were hoping that…dank farrik.” 

He knew that she was hoping that this would be the year that she would be reunited with her father and the little one. Navina’s mother was gone, that was a fact, but the rest of her family was a mystery. He knew that she only allowed herself those three days to hope that they were still alive, because the last time that they had seen each other they had agreed on a designated time each year that they would return to Yavin 4, the last place they had called home, if it were safe for them to do so. She and her mother had missed the first few years, the need to stay hidden keeping them from being able to make the trip. At that time her parents were still able to at least transmit the occasional holo, and while she wanted nothing more than to be able to see her father and the child that she affectionately called verd’ika, she understood, even then, that their hiding was necessary. This is the Way. She could remember thinking it even then, could hear her own small voice repeating the words back to her mother, the two of them tucking their hopes away for another year.

Twenty three years later, she was still packing and unpacking that hope, the thing riddled with creases and worn thin along the folds. She knew that the odds weren’t good that her family was still alive, or if they were, that they hadn’t been captured or separated. Regardless, every year she gave herself three days to air that hope, to go home and wait for them to join her there. But this year was no different from the last one. They’re- she squeezed her eyes shut against the word. No. She wouldn’t even think the word until she had confirmation. 

Ni partayli, gar darasuum. I remember you, so you are eternal. As the phrase played in her head, she reached under the cowl of her shawl for the pendant around her neck, squeezing it until she could feel the tusks digging into her palm and then running her finger around the rim of one carved eye, nail scratching against the hard, faceted stone that had been set inside. I remember. 

And she had been remembering so much lately, the flashes from the night they had fled Concordia coming much more clearly than ever before. It made no sense to her that she would suddenly be able to recall clips of dialogue or images of faces with increasing ease as more time passed, but for the last few months that had been the case. And then when Firo had found her father’s kal, it had been too simple to give in to the time-worn hope, too tempting to see it as a sign. But it had obviously been there the whole time, she told herself, despite the fact that it wasn’t obvious at all. 

She hadn’t told Firo about the increased power or frequency with which the amethyst tinted memories were coming to her, but that wasn’t all she was keeping from him, and it was the second omission that she truly felt guilty about. He was extremely gracious in granting her whatever level of secrecy or privacy she wanted or needed when it came to her family and the closure that she longed for there. While he knew she didn’t truly consider herself to be a Mandalorian as she’d never sworn the Creed or been fitted for her own armor, he understood that she still held fast to the traditions and beliefs that she was raised on; that her clan - her aliit, one of the few Mando’a words that Firo had picked up through the years, and one that Navina thought was appropriate for him, always looking at him as a brother of sorts - was bonded together indelibly, and that she’d never turn her back on that bond.  

The guilt she felt was in no way related to her family or Yavin or her memories. It was in regards to what she’d heard in the lower levels of Coruscant, the city under the city at the center of the galaxy. A rumor, but one she’d been chasing for a long time, had caught her attention, and she couldn’t let it go until she’d seen it through, and it was for that reason that she was insistent upon going through with their plan to hit the abandoned base. Yes, she needed a ship. Firo could do with a new one, too, honestly. But she also needed to know if what she’d heard was true- that the Darksaber had changed hands once more… but that it had once more eluded both of the women who sought it most fiercely, herself, so that she could destroy it, and Bo-Katan of House Kryze, the radical who at one point plotted to overthrow her own sister for the Mandalorian throne. And if it is true, if it’s no longer in Imperial hands… I need to know who has it now. 

While she didn’t know the exact location of it, Navina knew that there had been, until recently, a Mandalorian covert here on Nevarro. She had no idea how large their numbers were, only that there had been a very violent standoff with the Imperial remnant who’s base she and Firo were about to loot. But the most interesting part of the rumors that she had collected in her travels from the Core Worlds to the Outer Rim, was that the New Republic’s Marshal stationed there had been linked to a Mandalorian- to the Mandalorian that the Imps had been targeting. So when she saw the woman with the badge pinned to her belt and the heavy blaster rifle she carried with absolute confidence, it had the exact opposite effect that that sort of deterrent would have on anyone else. I need to know. She sighed, binging one hand up to her forehead and pushing it back over her scalp. She grabbed the base of her long, thick braid and followed it down to the end, pulling it as she looked back up at her friend. But he needs to know, too.  

“Firo, it’s…” 

“It’s about that damn saber, isn’t it?” He raised one eyebrow in a high arch, and her stunned silence paired with the stupefied expression she knew she was wearing answered for her. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I know. You get…” he squinted at her, “you act differently when you have a lead on something about your family or that kriffing sword.” 

“Firo,” she reached for his arms, her hands cuffing around his biceps to emphasize how important this was to her. “That kriffing sword is what-” 

Bending his elbows, he grabbed her hands and pulled them down, not angrily but forcefully, holding her wrists as he spoke. “I know. I know what you… how you feel about it and about what it stands for and… and the part it played in…” He clamped his eyes shut then, but before he did she noticed how prominent the golden flecks in them were. He’s nervous. Of the two of them, Firo was absolutely more likely to worry when it came to her safety. She flinched, knowing that she had given him plenty of reasons to throughout the span of their friendship. The scrapes that he typically got himself into were almost always easy enough to weasel him out of with a little careful negotiation or a generous bribe. The spots she found herself in however, usually resulted in drawn blasters and blades. He let out a breath and released his grip on her wrists. “Nav, I just need to know you’re not gonna get yourself killed.” 

She clicked her tongue, trying to lighten the mood. “Come on, Firo, I’m a hard woman to kill. I have the-” 

“The scars to prove it,” he finished the second part of her sentence in unison with her, rolling his eyes. “I know. I’m trying to be serious here, Harsa.” 

“I know.” She said it quietly, blinking up at him as his hard frown softened. “I’m sorry, Firo, I should have told you what I was…” she shook her head, the end of her braid bouncing behind her. “I should have told you that I knew about…” she groaned, leaning forward until her forehead met his chest. 

To her surprise she felt it rumble as he chuckled. Huh? He’s… laughing? She picked her head up, a confused look on her face. “Apologizing is really rough for you, isn’t it?” 

With that she let out a laugh of her own. “Only with you though, isn’t that strange?” She winked at him, swatting at his stomach. 

“Very strange indeed,” he agreed, intercepting her swat and pushing her hand away. “Alright. So we’re improvising. What have you got so far?” 

Her grin climbed her cheeks then, and she laid out her new plot. “Not going to get myself killed, Firo. Just captured.” 

Less than an hour later they were prepped and ready to put their backup plan into action. Navina removed her gray shawl,  strapping her purple chestplate and pauldrons to the black flak vest she wore over her short sleeved black top. Next she wrapped her wrists in padded black fabric and slid the vambraces over them. The left one was utterly useless in terms of weaponry; it appeared as though at one point it was equipped with whistling birds, but the mechanism had been damaged by the previous owner and now its only use was protection. But it’s beskar, so it’s worth wearing. The right one still had a functioning flamethrower, though it was low on fuel, and a grappling line, though it had snared the last time she tried to deploy it so she made a mental note not to count on it cooperating this time either. Holstering her blaster on her thigh, she took her father’s beskar kal from her bag, attaching the sheath she had made for it on the trip to Nevarro to her belt. The last piece of armor she donned was her mother’s helmet, the traditional “T” shaped visor smashed along the eyeline, but the modulator and audio features still in working order. 

“Well look at you, Nav, you look like a real live Mando if I ever saw one.” You haven’t, bantha brain. “I like the,” he grasped his right wrist with his left hand, a quizzical look coming over his face as he tried to search for the right word. “Those things.” 

Firo had armed himself as well, a pair of blasters on his hips, a small knife in his boot, and a handful of different blaster cartridges on his bandolier that he could switch out for different effects if necessary. Navina felt a knot twist in her stomach though as she remarked not for the first time that he wore no armor at all, nothing to protect him but his speed if triggers were pulled down there. We’ve got to change that if this is the type of thing we’re going to be doing.

“Alright,” she let out a breath and locked her eyes with his through her broken visor. “Last chance to back out. This is my thing, you don’t have to be involved if you-” 

“Would you knock it off already?” He tapped the side of her helmet softly, the action causing her to snort as she recalled the first time he’d bopped her on the head while she was wearing the beskar helmet, and how he had nearly broken his hand. “You ready?” She nodded. I am. “Okay. Let’s go get you captured I guess.” Grumbling under his breath about how he had a feeling that he was going to regret this, he walked down the ramp, hopping off the edge where it dangled a foot or two from the ground. She followed on his heels, smiling to herself. 

Since they were changing the plan, they were no longer flying the Flare down to the base’s landing pad, as only one of them- Firo-  would be flying out. Instead they left the dilapidated ship where it was and headed for the entrance furthest from where the Marshal and the man she had with her were stationed. Navina would hold them off, distracting them while Firo made his way up to the landing pad to make off with a ship, and then hopefully, after she found out what she needed to know and got herself out of whatever lockup situation the New Republic’s Marshals instituted on Nevarro, she’d rendezvous with him here where the Flare was waiting, and they would head for some place where they could lay low for a week or two. They had their comm links in case they needed to contact one another after they separated. But Navina had a good feeling about how this was going to go. She kept that to herself though, sure that Firo would have some snarky comment about how her good feelings were almost always bad portents.

As they neared the edge of the cliff face that had been providing them cover, Navina reached out and stopped Firo in his tracks. “Promise me you’ll bail if I tell you to.”

“Uh oh,” he joked. “You have a good feeling, don’t you?” 

“Firo,” she groaned. “I mean it. Promise me if I tell you to leave you will. I-” 

“I promise, Nav.” He acquiesced then, giving the tail of her braid a slight tug where it stuck out from the bottom of her helmet. “Now, let’s go.” 

She nodded, and with that, they split, both heading off in different directions- Firo towards the secondary entrance that they’d found on their initial recon mission a few days back, and Navina straight towards the waiting Marshal. She glanced back over her shoulder as she reached the last of the small boulders she was darting between for cover, and seeing Firo’s boots disappear through the door, she took a deep breath and ran. 

“What’s the town to do with the law this far out on the flats?” Navina projected her voice over the empty space as she rounded the corner, making for where she knew the two temporary sentinels were waiting. 

But the second she got close, a third figure stepped into view, one that halted her in her tracks. Dank. Farrik. She raised her hands, palms facing outwards, as the sharp end of a long beskad stopped just shy of her helmet. Holding it was the most imposing Mandalorian she had ever laid eyes on. The man wasn’t much taller than she was, but the stance he took, the way that he held his body and his weapon would have been enough for her to know that he was a formidable fighter. On top of that, he was covered head to toe in beskar armor more pure and pristine than she knew to exist. The sword in his gloved hand was just the first that she noticed of what she now realized were many weapons- a blaster, spear, and vibroblade all visible, plus whatever devices he had installed on his vambraces. And that’s just what I can see. A Mandalorian like this one was liable to have at least four more weapons concealed. A Mando like this is a weapon.  

The Marshal and the the older man that had been waiting with her- as bait, Navina realized too late- stepped up behind the Mandalorian, the woman speaking. “You got this from here, Mando? I’m gonna go check out what her friend is up to inside.” Navina scowled at the woman who gave her a condescending look before the man answered. 

“Sure. I can take care of her. Take Karga with you.” He hadn’t turned away from Navina, and he hadn’t lowered his weapon. His voice, though modulated through his helmet, sounded calm and even, and she knew that while it likely offered some of his prey a false sense of comfort, she knew better. The Marshal and the other man didn’t hesitate to do as he said, the woman telling him to call for her if she needed him. He won’t, Navina fumed at her retreating figure. 

Neither of them said anything until the other two were out of sight, and all Navina could do was hope that Firo was running through the base at top speed. He just needs to get off of the pad, get out of here and then he’s- 

“Are you a Mandalorian?” He asked the question as he slid the end of his blade up onto the curve of the armor on her left shoulder, the beskar sword scraping a long divot into the top layer of painted durasteel with a sharp shing. 

She let her eyes flick down to where the blade sat without moving her head, hands still in front of her. Stall. Give Firo more time to get out. The blade had only cut through the outer shell of her pauldron, but he had barely used any force at all and she knew she had to answer carefully because one wrong word or uncalculated move would cost her more than the time needed to repair her armor. He’ll chop my arm clean off with that thing. “That depends on who you ask,” she raised her eyes back up to where his would be if she could see them, noticing a sculpted signet in the shape of a mudhorn on his own shoulder piece. 

“I’m asking you,” he answered, tone shedding some of its evenness as with the quick turn of his wrist the blade slipped between her pauldron and flak vest, slicing it off in one fluid motion. “And I want an answer. Are you a Mandalorian? Did you swear the Creed?” 

Loud bangs coming from the landing pad above them told her that Firo was almost home free. Just a few more seconds. “I was never given the chance to. My clan was attacked when I was a child.” Honesty seemed the best course of action at this point. Though she was a skilled fighter, Navina knew when she was outmatched and outgunned. 

“Your armor,” he nodded his head in her direction then, the first move he’d made that hadn’t been to slice her pauldron to pieces. “How did you come by it if it wasn’t made for you?” 

“Took the pauldrons and chest piece from a trooper,” she stated, though she knew that was the least of his cares. “These?” she raised her wrists up higher, “these I stole from a back ally trader. You want ‘em? They’re yours.” He nodded again, and she mirrored the gesture, glancing up to the pad as the rumbling sound of thrusters preparing to take off told her that Firo was going to make it out safely. Good. That’s all that… all that matters. She slowly pulled the vambraces from her wrists, tossing them at the Mandalorian’s feet. “They’re busted and they don’t fit, so by all means.” 

“Your helmet.” He demanded. 

“Now that I will not be parting with,” she told him, trying to muster up all of the evenness that she could. 

“It looks like pure beskar.” It wasn’t a question. 

“It is. It’s the only piece of pure beskar I own, aside from,” she pointed to her belt with one hand, the other still suspended in the air between them. He nodded his approval for her to pull the kal from the sheath. “Aside from this.” Holding the dagger out for him to see, she brought it slowly up to his beskad and clanged them together, the sound ringing out and making it clear to both of them that both blades were entirely pure. “And I won’t be giving you either of them, Mando.” Sheathing her kal again, she brought that same hand up to her chest, digging under the flimsy armor and pulling out her mother’s mythosaur necklace. “They belonged to my parents, and if you want them you’re going to have to kill me.” 

At the sight of the pendant he lowered his weapon and cocked his head to the side. “The Mythosaur… but what is, why is there…” 

Navina looked down at the pendant in her hand then, the stone visible in its eyes seeming to glow a fierce shade of purple. She sucked in a breath as she brought her other hand up to cover it, thinking that it was just the harsh Nevarro sun that was causing it to shine more brightly than it ever had before. But when shaded by her other palm the purple light seemed only to shine brighter. “It’s never… it’s never done that before, never so…” 

Just then a comm link clicked in the Mandalorian’s pocket, and he pulled it out, pressing the button on the side. “Cara,” he spoke the woman’s name. 

“The other one got away with a ship and a few speeders. You good down there?” 

Navina felt a fleeting relief as she heard that Firo was off the base and that he’d even managed to make it profitable for himself. The Mandalorian stared at her for long seconds before answering, holding the communicator in his fist close to his helmet. “I’m taking this one back with me.” With that, he switched off the communicator and put it back in his pocket, unhooking a set of binders from his hip. “I can put these on you and you can follow me,” he offered, “Or,” he looked down at the blaster on his hip. “I can set that to stun and-” 

Navina shoved her wrists in his direction. “Clap ‘em on then,” she sighed and he did, securing them so smoothly she was sure he’d done it hundreds of times at least. “Where uh… where are we going?” 

Sheathing his sword on his belt, he looked straight at her and answered. “No questions.” He bent down and picked up the discarded vambraces, then started walking in the opposite direction. When she didn’t follow right away, he reached for his blaster. “I’m not sure when the last time I used the stun setting was,” he said, hand poised over his weapon. “Not sure if it still works.” Looking back over his shoulder at her, he finished the threat. “Don’t make me test it on you.” 

“This is the Way,” she responded reluctantly. 

With that he started walking again, Navina following closely behind in silence. 

Nope. Plans are not my thing.   

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Thank you for reading! Please feel free to let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the tags! :)

tags: @something-tofightfor​​​​ @alraedesigns​​​​ @pheedraws​​​​ @valkblue​​​​ @malionnes​​​​ @gollyderek​

[prismatica-the-strange]

Au Zombie apocalypse (but more like the movie Fido

While I did watch the film (and absolutely loved it!), I didn't really know how to write it as an AU, so I went more for a 7 Days to die meets Tyler Posey's Alone.

Word count: 2014

Warnings: Blood, violence, swearing

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

"Jackpot!"

"What'cha got?" Cam comes up behind her to look into the cabinet.

"Enough to last us a while," Bunny grins, shrugging off her backpack and shoving cans from the shelves into it.

"Dread found a buttload of nonperishables," he says into the radio on his shoulder, "What about you gu-"

He's cut off by the sound of gunshots from two floors up where Daniel and Vala are going through apartments.

Bunny freezes, hand gripping the worn, bloodstained handle of the fire ax on the counter next to her. Everything goes quiet.

They wait for what feels like forever with bated breath until Daniel's heavy breathing crackles through the radio, "We had a group of infected, but we took care of it... Keep an eye out, those shots could have attracted more."

Before she can even let out a breath of relief Bunny sees a figure shambling up behind Mitchell.

"Behind you!"

She manages to pull out her sidearm as the zombie tackles him. She fires a few times and prays she was quick enough to kill it before it bit him.

The infected goes limp and she nudges it with her toe before pushing it off him.

There's a lot of blood, she wipes away as much as she can but she doesn't see a bite mark, just the gash on his forehead.

"Mitchell's unconscious," she says into her radio, "Zombie took him down and he hit his head, I don't see a bite."

"Keep your distance, just in case," Daniel answers, "We'll be right down Bunny."

"Hey! It's just me!" Daniel says when she points the Glock at him.

"Announce yourself next time dumbass!" She snaps, pointing her gun to the floor. "There's infected around, I could've killed you!"

He glances up at her when he kneels next to Mitchell, checking him for bites or deep scratches. "We'll bring him back, but he'll need to be watched closely, are you okay?"

"'M fine, let's get him back to base." She assures him with a small smile.

"Guys!" Vala skids to a stop in the doorway, "We've got an entire pack of runners headed right for us, if we're leaving, we need to go now."

"Help me with him," he looks to Bunny and she slings one of Cam's arms over her shoulders, helping Daniel get him to his feet.

Vala takes point as they drag him down the, now darkening, hallways of the apartment building. The group makes it to the truck without incident, Vala climbing into the bed with Cam and the supplies they managed to raid.

The compound was a small, red-brick school that they had reinforced. Two floors, lots of rooms, a flat roof that was good for patrolling on, and a chain-link fence surrounding it that they had wrapped and topped with barbed and razor wire.

"This is Raid Team One to Base, come in Base," Bunny says into the radio hooked to the dash. "I Repeat, This is Raid Team One, we're coming in hot, ETA 8 minutes. Base, do you copy?"

She gets back nothing but static and she looks to Daniel in the driver's seat.

"We have a man down and sprinters on our ass. ETA 5 minutes. Base, please respond." Nothing, "Damnit Walter! You'd better have that gate open when we get there or I swear to fuck, I'm gonna kick your ass!"

... "This is Base to Raid Team One, what is your current Eta?"

"Fuckin' finally!" She holds the mic up to her face again, "One minute Walter! Get that gate open NOW!... And tell the doc to be ready for a bleeder."

"What in the hell happened?" Sam asks as they unload Cam from the back.

"One of those new silents," Bunny grimaces, wiping her sleeve at the speckles of dried blood from her cheek, "Fucker got the drop on us."

"Hey!" She stops the group just inside the gate, the sound of gunfire echoing from O'Neill and Teal'c in the watchtowers as sprinters hurl themselves at the fence, "You know the rules, I can't let you in until you get a bite check."

"Damnit, Sam! Mitchell's dying!" Daniel snaps, "We don't have time for this!"

"I won't be the reason we have another outbreak!" She argues, pulling her pistol from its holster.

"Both of you calm down!" Fraiser interjects, rushing in with a gurney, "Sam, put your gun away, and Daniel..."

She looks at him pointedly, "Roll up your sleeves. Rules are rules, no exceptions, not even you."

He does as she says as she scours Cam for bites, Bunny and Vala also rolling their sleeves and pant legs up for Sam to inspect.

After getting checked out, Bunny brings the raided food to the kitchens, Daniel trailing closely behind her.

Once they make it to their quarters, an old English classroom, he pulls her into his arms.

"You're sure you're okay?" He asks, looking her over again.

"I'm fine," she assures him, "A little irked that we had to leave before we finished looting, but physically, I'm okay."

"Good," he sighs, pressing his lips to her forehead.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

"We should take the mountain." She says, fingers drumming against the table in the war room.

"Not this again," O'Neill sighed, running his hand over his face, "That place is swarming with infected."

"But it's also loaded to the teeth with Ammo, MREs, and medical supplies." She argues, "Enough to last at least a few years. Jack, we've nearly picked the rest of the town clean, there's not much else to raid, what do we do then?"

"And or med supply is running dangerously low," Fraiser cuts in, "The stock in that mountain could save a lot of lives."

O'Neill huffs and slouches against the wall next to the window, looking out in the direction of Cheyenne Mountain.

"We need to take inventory of our current ammo supply before we make any hard decisions," He says, "If you can get the floor plans from the town office and draw me up a workable plan for this, we might- and I stress the word might- be able to get this thing off the ground."

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

"So you finally got O'Neill to agree?" Cam groans from the bed in the makeshift infirmary, "How the Hell did you manage that?"

"Persistence."

"You annoyed him into it," he clarifies.

"Something like that," Bunny laughs, "Daniel and V are prepping the truck to raid the town office to hopefully get the floor plan."

"Document snatching, I don't envy you there."

"Yeah... So how are you doing? Feeling hungry for human flesh?" She jokes, "Craving my sweet sweet bone marrow?"

"Nah, the doc checked me out, I am 'infection free' as the kids call it."

"That's good, I hope to see you up on your feet soon, I don't like being down a man." She pats his arm and makes her way to where the rest of the team is getting ready to head out.

"How's he doin'?" Daniel asks, lifting the weapons duffle into the bed of the truck.

"Cam is Cam," she shrugs, "Bit of a concussion but otherwise still the same, we lucked out."

"Yes, those new Silents are beginning to be quite the problem," Vala says, climbing into the back of the truck.

"We'll figure it out," Daniel nods, "We learned to manage the sprinters, we'll get a read on these ones too."

"You guys ready to go?" O'Neill asks, walking up with Teal'c, his hands in his pockets.

"Just about," Daniel says, "What's goin' on?"

"With this new variant out there, I know I'd feel a lot better if you took Teal'c with you." He tells them, "So you're taking Teal'c with you."

"Hop in," Bunny motions to the truck, and Teal'c nods before stepping into the bed and shutting the tailgate.

The town office is mostly empty, with only a few zombies stumbling around, easily incapacitated with melee weapons.

"Where do you think they'd keep the floorplans?" Bunny asks, scraping the blood off her ax on the side of a desk.

"Archives are in the basement if they had them at all," Daniel explains, "Uh... Teal'c and Vala, you guys take guard up here, Bunny and I 'll check out downstairs."

Their lights shine around the dusty folder-covered shelves as they try not to kick up any papers that litter the ground as they go.

"It's too fucking quiet," Bunny hisses, eyes darting over to Daniel, her knuckles white as she grips her flashlight, "Daniel."

He turns to look at her, but her eyes and light are trained on a spot on the floor. He follows her line of sight to a bloody bootprint on the cement floor, "That's not ours."

"It's still wet," she grimaces and he shines his light around their immediate surroundings.

"They're still here," his eyebrows knit together, "We should go."

"We need those plans."

"We don't even know if the plans are here," Daniel argues, "Even if they are, is it really worth risking our lives to a band of Rovers?"

"We risk our lives every time we leave the compound," she frowns, stepping past him to continue her search.

"Is someone there?" She calls out and Daniel rolls his eyes, grabbing his radio.

"Teal'c? This is Daniel, we think we could have a Rover situation here, keep your eyes peeled."

"Understood."

The sound of shuffling papers alerts them to another presence a few shelves over. Daniel pulls his gun, pointing it in the direction of the sound, pulling Bunny behind him without a second thought.

"Come out," Daniel orders, "Calmly with your hands behind your head. We're armed."

A small figure slowly shuffles into the light, hands clutched tightly around a raggedy-looking stuffed moose.

"Jesus Daniel, it's a kid," She tries to move past him, but he stops her.

"Are you alone?" He asks, "Is there anyone else here with you?"

Their eyes start to glisten with tears and they start sniffling.

"M-my papa he-" They hiccup, "He told me to hide. B-but he hasn't come back!"

"Honey, how long ago was that?" Bunny asks them.

"F-four days ago."

"Oh geez," Daniel slowly lowers his gun and looks to his wife who carefully approaches the child.

"Did your dad tell you anything else before he left?" She asks softly, unscrewing the cover of her water bottle and handing it to them.

"S-something 'bout getting bit," they pout, taking a sip.

She turns to Daniel.

"He can't be more than five," she whispers, "Daniel we can't just leave him here."

"I know."

"What's your name, sweetheart?" She asks as Daniel radios the new information to Teal'c and Vala.

"H-Henry."

"It's nice to meet you, Henry," she smiles warmly, "You're gonna come with us, ok? We've got food, water, and a nice safe place to stay."

"But... but my Papa!"

"Honey, I'm sorry but I don't think your papa's coming back," she tells him, "Now you need to come with us to where it's safe."

"Ok."

"I need to make sure you weren't bit too, can you roll up your sleeves for me?"

He nods and does as she says.

Once she's sure he hasn't been infected she picks him up and he clings to her.

"We just need to find something before we go."

"I think I've got it," Daniel calls from the other side of the basement, after a good 40 minutes of searching through musty old files.

He meets Bunny near the stair and unfolds one of the blue documents. Shining his light through it he smiles when they see the layout of one of the complex's floors.

"Hell yeah!" She grabs his arm, and grins, "Let's get these back to base."

"It's okay," she reassures the young boy when he whimpers, holding her tighter when she goes to set him in the front seat of the truck, "I'll be sitting right next to you."

"Base this is Raid Team one," she says into the dashboard radio, "The mission was a success. We found a new survivor and we're headed back. ETA 15 minutes."

○●○●○●○

There will be a part 2 (or even more) because I really love this AU and want to write more for it

Taglist: @mysg1spacemonkey @sgcprometheus @i-am-morrigans-apprentice @malcolm-reeds-pineapple @witching-things @reeseykins @abnormalvampire64 @girl-obsessed-with-things @gatez @myro-tse @just-a-si-fi-nerd

[sarahwyland]

44

"Wait...is that a pregnancy test?"

(Seriously - loving these baby prompts 😂)

How about a mini ‘Off the Record’ one-shot? 

Nick braced himself as he pushed open the front door to his home. 

“Daddy!” 

Alice, his perfect miniature replica of his wife, barreled towards him in her usual exuberant fashion. He caught her and swung her up into his arms. 

“How’s my girl?” he asked. He kissed her cheek. “Did you have a good day at preschool?” 

“I made a rainbow out of macaroni,” she reported. “I had to leave it at school to dry, but it’s so pretty, Daddy!” 

“I bet it is,” he said patiently. He spotted his firstborn then. Nicholas, the precocious five year old that looked exactly like him. And according to his wife, acted like him, too. “And there’s my big guy.” He stooped and held his arm out for Nicholas who ran to him. “What about you? How was your day at school?”

“I might have gotten into a little bit of trouble,” he admitted. “Not big trouble, but Mommy said I really need to work on my listening skills.” 

“What happened?” Nick wondered. He and Sabrina were frequent communicators with Nicholas’ school. He was smart, but energetic and adjusting to full days of school instead of his half days of preschool was proving to be difficult. 

“I didn’t want to come inside after recess,” Nicholas admitted. “Now I don’t get to have recess the rest of the week.” 

“Well, your mom is right,” Nick said. “You need to work on your listening skills.” 

“I’ll try,” Nicholas grumbled. Nick hid his smirk by kissing his son’s head while giving his daughter a little squeeze. “Catch any bad guys today?” 

“Just some bad parking jobs today,” Nick reported. “Speaking of your mom though, where is she?” 

“Upstairs,” Nicholas shrugged. “Can I have a snack?” 

“Not before dinner,” Nick shook his head. “You and Alice go out in the backyard and play. I’m going to go see Mommy.” 

“Jump?” Alice asked hopefully. 

“Not until I’m outside,” Nick said. They loved their trampoline and despite the safety measures he had put in place, Sabrina and he agreed the kids weren’t allowed on it without one of them present. “Go on out there though. I’ll be out soon.” 

Alice and Nicholas set off without protest. Nick thanked his lucky stars for the umpteenth time for a fenced in backyard for his kids as he climbed the stairs, trying not to worry about the fact that Sabrina hadn’t met him at the door. That was what he was used to - Alice got there first, then Nicholas, then he got to kiss his wife soundly and take over kid duty as she was the one who picked them up from school every day. He reasoned it wasn’t much of a break as she cooked dinner while he played with them, but he did the dishes and they tag teamed bedtime and coming home was honestly his favorite part of the day. 

“Sabrina?” he called. He found her in their en suite, her back to him as she studied something in her hand he couldn’t see. “Hey, babe,” he greeted. “Everything okay?” 

Sabrina turned to him slowly. She just looked at him, eyes big, a stunned expression on her face. He furrowed his brow and dropped his gaze to what she held in her hand. His own eyes went wide. 

“Wait... Is that a...pregnancy test?” 

Sabrina nodded. 

“One of a few.” She waved her hand to the sticks lining her side of their double vanity. “They all say the same thing.” 

“Which is?” Nick asked even though he thought he knew the answer. 

“We’re having another kid,” she informed him. “A third kid...” 

“A third kid,” he repeated. He couldn’t help but grin. “We did say we wanted a big family.” 

“But Alice... She’s barely out of diapers...” Sabrina shook her head. “How? How on earth did we get pregnant?” 

“Surely I don’t need to tell you were babies come from, Spellman,” Nick said as he pulled her to him. “We’ve got two already and I can confirm we’re very good at the art of making them.” 

“I know that,” Sabrina scoffed. “But I’m on birth control. I haven’t missed...” She trailed off. “Crap. I did miss a few, when the kids had strep... I was stressed and neither of us were sleeping, let alone the kids...” 

“And we had a very memorable night on the couch,” Nick recalled as a hand went to her abdomen. “Glad we got a souvenir out of that one. That was - hot.”

“Hell of a way to put it, Scratch,” Sabrina said ruefully. “You’re happy about this?” 

“I am,” he assured her. “We wanted more kids and Spellman? I really love raising babies with you.” 

Any worry Sabrina had about a surprise third baby dissolved just like that. 

“I like making babies with you,” she countered. She kissed him. “Growing your babies, watching you be a dad to our babies...” 

Another kiss. 

“You’re going to have to put a pin in this, Spellman,” he said as he kissed her back. “The two babies we’ve already made are waiting for me to come outside so they can jump.” 

“Go wear those babies out,” Sabrina directed. “See if we can’t get them into a bed a little early tonight.” Her hand ran down his chest and over a sensitive spot below the belt line. “So we can celebrate baby number three properly.”  

“Celebrate we will,” he promised. He kissed her one more time. “Thanks for giving me babies, Spellman.” 

She beamed at him. 

“Thanks for being so willing to make them.”

[smol-and-grumpy]

Sky Full Of Stars - CH06

Sequel to Something Just Like This

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, ex mobster boss, still a little cocky, less ruthless and not at all short tempered anymore. Instead, he thinks he’s hilarious (she doesn’t agree, though). They both try to live a quiet life. And Dean hopes, very hard, that his former life won’t come knocking at their door.

Warnings: NSFW, fluff, and okay, maybe this one is a little more angsty because Dean needs someone to hit him over the head for not telling her the truth.

WC: 3445

SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s a month later that they’re invited to Sam’s birthday party and it’s actually the first outing with Ella. 

They’ve held an open house on one weekend where friends would drop by throughout the day to come see them. It was actually Dean’s idea and she agreed because it sounded better than scheduling visitations with all of the people who would want to meet their newborn girl. 

Even Linda dropped by and that woman was all over Ella, didn’t even want to let the little girl out of her sight and held on to her for the whole time she was here. Truffles followed them around either. Poor boy was afraid that Linda would take Ella home with her. 

Sam lives just outside the city, in a suburban big white house with white fences and landscaped garden. It looks picturesque and pretty. It’s a total contrast to their home. It’s more modern, fits more into the lifestyle Sam has. A lifestyle Dean left behind.

Dean carries Ella, of course he does, was the first out of the car and hurried to take Ella out of her car seat, fearing that she’d reach their child first. He grins cocky when he sees Y/N schlepping the diaper bag and a gift for Sam.

She rolls her eyes for the dramatic effect but she smirks, because it’s cute how proud he is. 

Jess sits with Y/N out on their porch while both of them are holding their babies and chat. It’s the second time that Ella meets her cousin Jack and Anna joins them later with Elijah. 

They talk and laugh, complaining too because Anna’s the closest in getting back into her old shape while Y/N still struggles with her flabby stomach the most. 

Dean doesn’t seem to mind her body change at all. Doesn’t seem to mind the excess skin, the stretch marks. Because every time she’s naked, she wants to hide from him, but he’d make her show him, looks at her like he always did, makes her feel like she’s his fucking world. Last time was this morning while Ella was still asleep when they took a bath together and he made sure to touch every inch of her. Brushed his hands across her stomach, let his fingertips trail along her stretch marks. He kissed her shoulder, the nape of her neck, she could feel him hard underneath her. 

They haven’t had sex yet since she gave birth. She wants to wait until she feels comfortable again and he was okay with it, never pressuring her into anything. They did all the other things which doesn’t involve him sticking his cock into her pussy. 

Dean has the patience of a saint and she really doesn’t know what he sees in her. She still has these doubts, can’t help it, even if she knows that she shouldn’t. 

The men are talking together, drinking beers, laughing. And she thinks it’s good. This life is definitely good. 

But then something shifts, she can see it in Dean’s eyes, can see it in the tense of his shoulder when he follows Sam inside. 

They didn’t stay away long, maybe five minutes, ten tops. When they return, Dean looks relaxed again and she’s not sure if he’s pretending like he always used to or if he’s genuinely smiling. Can’t really see if from this far. Sam excuses himself, goes to talk to other people and then she sees Gabriel joining Dean and Cas, sees them sticking their heads together, talking without moving their lips too much. 

Other people might not notice anything wrong or different, but she’s not other people. She’s trained to notice little details and she can’t lie. It’s worrying her.

 *

 Back home she nurses Ella and tells Dean that she needs a quiet moment to paint. Just like Dean uses pottery to find his center, she uses painting. She’s painting every day now, their garage is full with her paintings.

She spends about an hour in there and walks out after, takes a quick shower and slips into one of Dean’s shirts. They’re the most comfortable at the moment and he loves for her to wear them so there’s a win-win right there. She leaves the top four buttons open, it’s easier to get in and out for nursing either. 

It’s already late and she wants to lie down but decides to see what Dean’s up to. She walks down the stairs, but Dean’s not in the living room. She only finds Bubbles while Truffles is at his new favorite place, with that place being right in front of Ella’s room. 

Y/N sees light spilling out of Dean’s study where the door’s standing ajar. 

“Hey,” She pokes her head in, sees Dean sitting in his chair, a black manila folder with a couple of papers splayed on it. The baby monitor propped right where he can always see it. 

He notices her, looks up from the desk. He’s startled at first, but then his lips spread into a warm smile. She guesses that it’s the shirt she’s wearing that does all the trick. 

She walks in and he pushes his chair back, makes room for her to climb in on his lap and she sits on one of his thighs, hooks her arms around his neck and kisses his scruff. “Watchu doing in here?”

Her eyes trail along the desk, sees the papers, a lot of words are written on them. The sight of these little words alone makes her head spin.

Dean takes the stack and hands it to her, “Read it,”

She really doesn’t want to read anything right now but does it anyway of course because she’s too curious. 

Last Will & Testament 

“Dean, no,” She mumbles as soon as she reads the first line.

He noses at her temple while she reads it, kisses her cheek, “Dean, yes,”

She goes on to read more.

In case of my death or disappearance.

“Disappearance?” She asks, it seems like a weird clause to put in and then her jaw drops. She feels some kind of anger, pushes herself away from him, gets up and paces around the room while Dean only watches her, his expression hardens.

“Y/N,” He starts to say, his voice is deep, low. It’s steady and calm like he doesn’t want to raise his voice but putting his foot down. She hates when he does that. It makes her feel like she’s the unreasonable one in here when he’s the one who fucking drafts up a fucking will.

“Are you planning on disappearing? Is this what it is?” She spits out, it comes out more accusatory than she intends and she adds, a little softer, because she doesn’t want to fight because of that, “Are you going to leave us?”

“Jesus,” Dean groans, clasps a hand over his face, scratches at his scruff like he always does when he’s trying to say something so she would get him, “I could never,” He leans back in his chair, looks at her like he always does, like she’s the world, like the world is his to touch and he reaches out a hand for her to take, “But you know what I was. Who I was. You know what I did. People tend to disappear in my old line of work.”

She doesn’t take his hand, and paces around some more, for fucking good measure because she’s fuming mad. She lets out a frustrating sound that comes out of the depths of her throat, “What do you mean? Do you know something I don’t know? Is someone coming after you?”

“No!” Dean shouts, squints his eyes because it came out loud and they shouldn’t be loud if they don’t want to wake up Ella, “No, I’m just trying to cover all bases because you never know what could happen,” 

Y/N waves with the papers in her hands, exhales loudly and walks up and down. When she’s close enough to him, Dean grabs a hold of her, pulls her into him. He hugs her tight, and she knows that he’s not letting her go.

“Read it,” He’s voice is much gentler, his lips close to her ears as he whispers the words.

She sighs before she goes on with reading.

“You’re leaving everything to me?”

“Yeah,” He says and then he moves her, makes her straddle him, his hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair back behind her ear that got loose from the bun on her head, “I trust you to use it in Ella’s best interest.” 

Her eyes get teary. She doesn’t want that. Doesn’t want to even think about a life without him. 

“You’d have to sit down with me, though,” His voice is soft, calming. Rational even. Which means that he thought this through, “There’s a lot of paperwork that we have to do because we’re not married.”

She thinks about his words, lets them sink in before she speaks, “Would you want to? Still?” She asks, and adds, “Marry me, I mean,”

Dean lets out a chuckle, it vibrates underneath of her. “More than you know,” His fingers play with the buttons of her shirt, “But I don’t want to pressure you. I understand if you wouldn��t want to.” 

She swallows her tears down. 

“It drives me nuts to have fewer rights just because we’re not married,” Dean sighs, “If something happens to you, I don’t even get to be at your side all the time and vice versa. You don’t get to decide anything and it actually terrifies me that even though you only have me in your life, I still can’t be with you when worse comes to worst.”

His words hit her differently. She never thought about that. Never thought about what Dean has probably been thinking for weeks or months. And he’s right, she knows he is. It makes more sense now since they already have a child together. It’s in Ella’s best interest. She knows that, too. 

Y/N places the stack of paper blindly back on the desk and cradles his face, the scruff prickles on her palm. She leans her forehead on his, pecks his lips, their noses touch. 

“If you want it, then let’s do it,” She whispers, kisses him once more, harder, deeper and Dean breathes into the kiss.

“Baby, you don’t have to,”

“I know but I want to,” She smiles then, kisses him again to shut him up. 

She feels him grinning into the kiss, his hands holding her tighter, and they stroke down her back until he has her ass in the palm of his hand.

Their kiss grows heavier, like it always does. Everything builds up so quickly.

“Then we do it,” He laughs when he breaks from the kiss and she nods her head, kisses him again, can’t quite get enough of him. She sucks on his tongue, making him moan out.

She’s wet down there either, and she grinds down harder, searches for friction, is met by his hard cock. 

Dean helps her grind on him, guides her on him with his hands on her ass. 

“Fuck,” He breathes out, kisses her cheek, her jaw, nibbles at her throat, “Wanna fuck you so bad,”

“I want that too,” She says almost breathlessly and Dean kisses down her throat, stopping short to look up at her. 

“You sure?” He raises one eyebrow at her and she nods, smiles a reassuring smile.

“Fuck,” He curses again, and then his hands come down on her ass, spanks down and makes her yelp up with a laughter. 

Dean stands up with her still in his arms, “Hold on,” He says and she does, hooks her legs behind his waist and he leans down, picks up the baby monitor and clears his desk with one clean swipe before he lays her down on it and places the baby monitor back so they would know when Ella starts to cry. 

She frowns at him, because now everything’s on the floor.

“Always wanted to do that once in my life,” Dean laughs before he kisses her again, works his way down her throat, sucks at her pulse point, making her arch her back. He doesn’t lose time in unbuttoning her shirt, pulls at the seam and her breasts are free because she left so many buttons undone in the first place. 

Eagerly, he sucks at her nipple, probably tasting milk because she leaks it without meaning to. He kneads the one he’s not kissing, and she moans out at the sensation. She’s so fucking sensitive. 

While he still kisses her chest, his hands trail down, hooking his fingers around her panties and pulling them down. He abandons her chest shortly to take them off and she whines at the loss of contact. Dean kneels down right after, kissing and biting his way up her thighs. One thigh first and then the other, teasing her. 

“Dean,” She calls out, wanting him to stop teasing her. His teeth scraping along the inner of her thighs and she writhes.

“I got you,” Dean breathes hot air against her soaked pussy, and he takes his finger, threads it through her slick before he rubs at her clit.

It’s awfully silent and she comes up to her elbow, sees him staring at her pussy, as if it holds all the answers to his questions. It makes her blush to see him staring at her most private part like that, “Dean,”

“Christ, you’re so wet,” He whispers and then he realizes that she’s still waiting.

His eyes meet hers and he holds her gaze, sticks out his tongue and licks a broad stripe up from her pussy to her clit with his massive tongue. Dean pauses and swallows, “Jesus, can’t get enough of your taste.”

Dean begins to lick and suck at her clit and opening, breathes through his nose as he does it, the hot air hits her right and she arches her back, pushing her cunt against his face. 

Her hands fists in his hair, and Dean licks faster, sucks harder, her knuckles are turning white, blunt nails digging into his scalp. 

And he looks up at her, crinkles deep because he is smiling and humming. 

“Dean, I’m—”

She didn’t even finish her sentence, spasms around him, thighs pressing together, trapping his head and he lets her. Lets her grind against his face until she comes down from her high and releases her grip around his head.

Dean chuckles when he comes up again, kisses each of her thighs, sucks at each of her nipples in passing, leaving a wet trail from there to her mouth. He claims her lips, pushing his tongue into her, lets her suck her own taste from it.

She breaks the kiss, leaves her forehead on his, her hand brushes at his lips, his scruff. He’s soaked.

“I almost died down there,” Dean’s still a little out of breath, “Good thing I made a will, huh?”

She rolls her eyes at him and he grins, thrust his clothed cock against her wet cunt, making her laugh out loud. 

“Fuck,” His voice is deep, “Can I fuck you now? I can barely hold myself together.”

She smiles at him, nods her approval, “Please,”

Dean’s grin widens, pecks her lips once more and pushes himself up, and she watches him hurriedly losing his jeans, just enough so he can pull them up again should Ella require his attention. 

He jerks himself three times before taking a step closer to lean over her, the head of his cock rubs against her slick cunt. He coats it with her wetness, rubs it up and down and she squirms.

“I’m excited,” He smiles with that golden boy smile, showing his teeth before he pushes himself forward and sinks in, both of them groan out in unison. 

It has been so long for her to be filled so fully, “Shit,” She curses out and Dean stills when he bottoms out. 

“You okay?” Dean asks, kisses at the crease between her eyebrows. 

“Yeah,” She nods, “I— fuck, yeah, I’m okay. So full, but good, oh my god, I’ve missed this,”

“I know,” He starts to thrust, his hand taking one of her legs, lifts it and braces it on his shoulder. The angle changes and she’s moans, “You feel so fucking good, still so goddamn tight— fuck!”

“Harder, Dean! Please,” Because it is what it is. She’s missed it, missed how his wet balls slaps against her ass when he fucks her hard and she wants to feel just that.

He picks up his pace, fucking her harder likes she demands of him.

“God you’re so deep,” She closes her eyes and bites down on her bottom lip.

“Should I not go de— Jesus!” 

She wraps the one leg that’s not on his shoulder around him, pulls him closer, making him go even deeper and it hurts. It hurts so good. She loves the pain. Her hands go down her body, tweaks one of her nipples and the other hand goes further down to rub at her clit. 

“Dean, choke me,” Her voice is strained, already so fucking close again.

“You sure?” 

“Uh-huh,”

“Uh-huh?” His hand travels up her body, slaps down on her tits on his way up and then she feels it, feels his big hand clawing around her throat, “You’re close, ain’t you, baby? Fuck— I—, you’re squeezing me.” Dean puts pressure on her throat, squeezes down on it, “Come, baby. Come on my cock like you used to,”

Y/N feels her toe curl up, pins and needles traveling up her legs, settles at her center. Her eyes roll back into her head and she convulses, shaking all over when she comes. 

Dean pushes himself over the edge with her, too, releases his grip on her throat and leans down, buries his face into the crook of her neck, sucks at her throat when he releases himself into her with a grunt.

He leaves little kisses on her throat, her jaw, her chin, kisses her between chuckles, “You look so goddamn beautiful when you come,” He props himself up a little then, hovers above her, steals a kiss, and one more. “Shit, I haven’t asked if you take your pills again,”

“I don’t,” 

“Baby, no!” 

She can hear the panic in his voice and has to hide her smirk, “Why? You don’t want another baby?”

“I do, I want a whole bunch, and you know that,” Dean says, and adds, “but I also want your body to have time to breathe.” Dean frowns and she cranes her neck, kisses him in between his eyebrows where there’s a deep crease.

“Relax, Dean. We’re good. I was joking,” She can’t hold back her laugh anymore.

“You little minx,” Dean growls, kisses her nose and pretends to bite it off, “I almost had a heart attack, Jesus! You’re a fucking pain in my ass, you know that, right?”

She’s still laughing and he joins her, but their laughter stops abruptly when they hear the baby monitor coming to life. Ella grunts through the speaker. 

“Shhh,” Dean hushes and touches his nose to hers, “Maybe if we pretend we didn’t hear she’ll stop,”

She giggles at that and he nuzzles his nose along her cheeks. 

Ella’s not stopping though, grunts some more and then she cries softly. They can hear Truffles barking from upstairs.

“Ugh,” Dean sighs, pecks her forehead and pushes himself away from her, “I don’t think we need a baby monitor, Truffles does all the work,”

He slips his dick out of her, is half hard again, she can see, she doesn’t think he’s been soft at all, at least it didn’t feel like it inside of her. 

Dean helps her up, “I’ll go see what she needs and you take your time,” He pulls his jeans back up, doesn’t bother to zip up or anything. He picks up her panties from the floor, holds it out for her to take before he places his hand on the back of her neck, draws her in, “We’re really getting married?”

She smirks a little, because that’s so Dean. He asks because he wants for her to be sure. She nods, smiling, “We are.”

“Okay, then I’m going to see what our girl needs now, future Mrs. Winchester,” Dean smiles, bright and white and leaves a last lingering kiss before he walks out. 

There’s a flutter in her chest when she watches him go, the name feels alien to her when she’s called that, yet it does feel right, too.

CH07