#is jess slipping off his hair ribbon

[1980shorrorfilm]

hopelessly devoted to you

click here. resources for palestine, congo, sudan, and other countries.

pairing…ellie williams x gn!reader

in which…a certain someone remembers your birthday.

before you read…fluff. angst. cutie patootie ellie <3

it was a grueling day. the sky dim from the consistent storming, the rain damping your body and hair, up until you and jesse had taken cover at a moldy gas station. you sat there for an hour, listening to him talk about dina and their separation…their tenth separation? you lost track a while ago.

but you don’t judge, you hummed in agreement to his frustrations and nodded the entire time. you get him, you do. your failed love life could be a ten-minute-long monologue, you think. relationships are hard in the small community of jackson, everyone has their person or keeps to themselves. you prefer to keep to yourself. you don’t necessarily need anyone— not if you can’t have her.

infected that were migrating through had run you out of the gas station, you and jesse dodging branches and heavy rocks throughout the forest as you ran back home. you, of course, tripped over a dead stump and banged your head on nature's floor.

if you were jesse you would have laughed at yourself, but your generous friend could only watch in horror, worry painting his features while he helped you up, practically dragging your stumbling self until you were in the clearing.

every single muscle in your body was aching when you arrived at jackson’s gates, it felt like seeing the gates of heaven itself. you don’t know what time it is, the sky has been dark the entirety of the day, and your head is pounding.

“we should get you to the infirmary, just in case,” jesse tries, however, you are ready to call it a night and worry about your current issues tomorrow. probably a bad idea, sure, but you don’t care that much in the worn out state you’re in. “i’m fine, jesse,” you lie to the man, but the smile you give him is enough for him to back off, “just need a bandage and a very comfortable bed. not one of those cots.”

“you’re stubborn…ellie’s rubbing off on you.”

“shut up,” you jokingly tell him, chewing your bottom lip as your mind goes to ellie. the idea of seeing her sweet face after the day you just had would provide you more comfort than the bed you so desperately yearn for.

to hear her voice, telling you about the day she had, that you know for certain was miles better than yours. and that’s amazing— ellie williams doesn’t deserve a hard day in her life. you would take all of them for her, even if each one felt as cruel as today.

jesse walks you all the way home, an illuminating glow coming from your windows, despite turning the lights off before you had left. or at least, you had thought you did. you say goodbye to jesse, having to promise you will take care of your injury before bed so he would leave.

you open your door with a deep sigh of relief, eager to shred your backpack and soggy clothes, and slip into something comfortable.

you drag your feet down the hall, stopping in place when your shut bedroom door, swings open before you.

“fuck.”

“ellie?” your brows dip, a quiet laugh escaping your lips at the surprise, “what are you doing?”

“i, uh, well,” she scratches the back of her neck, turning around, waiting for you to follow her into your bedroom. you do, mind drifting to the thought of how unkept you left it earlier, not having time to deal with the laundry at the end of your unmade bed. ellie had seen that; you’re embarrassed.

you gulp, stepping inside the room, and the sight you’re met with confuses you. your bed is made. your clothes are gone. instead, there’s a beige teddy bear, one that’s unfamiliar to you, that’s never been in your room before. it’s undeniably cute, even with its left ear ripped and its eye poorly patched back on.

laid against its belly is a large and flat square object wrapped in old newspapers, tiny pieces of duct tape holding it together. where a classic and beautiful ribbon would be, are shoelaces, making a bow. or an attempt at one.

and laid against that, is what appears to be a doodled on piece of paper. you glance at ellie, then your bed, then ellie.

“i…” she begins, the soft expression on her face suddenly hardening when her eyes trail to the single droplet of blood falling from your temple, and down the side of your face.

“what the fuck happened?” ellie takes a few short steps towards you, grabbing your face with her coarse hands, and turning you so she can inspect the area. even when you try to turn your head, she keeps you still.

“gonna tell maria to pair us. i love jesse but—”

“i tripped, ellie, it couldn’t have been prevented,” you cut her off, but her suggestion does make your heart flutter, and you wouldn’t be opposed to it. you’d spend every last second you have in this universe with her.

“you don’t know that,” ellie says, the woman thinking she could do anything to protect you— even simple mistakes you cause yourself. she exits the room for a moment, and you can’t help but walk to the foot of your bed to get a closer look at the objects on it.

you pick up the paper, realizing it’s not just a piece of paper, it’s a card. a makeshift one. and the doodles aren’t just doodles, it’s a dinosaur holding three balloons. three of your favorite colors. happy birthday, it says. birthday…your birthday…it’s your birthday.

it had not crossed your mind once today, this week, or this month. you only thought about it a couple of months back when it was briefly brought up in a conversation. how the community you were born into utilized calendars even if there was nothing to look forward to anymore, and how you almost wish you weren’t informed on the day you were born. there was nothing to celebrate, no one to celebrate with.

ellie was determined to change that, and she did.

you open the card, a paragraph in the center of the paper.

hey y/n, guess what day it is :) if you couldn’t tell by the extremely beautiful dinosaur in a party hat, it’s your day!! happy fucking birthday, y/n. probably doesn’t feel like much of a celebration today. little do you know i celebrate you everyday. don’t tell anyone that. i honestly think i’d die without you so never leave me, yeah? i love you y/n. i could take up this whole page telling you every little thing i love about you but i’m not going to do that because i don't think i could stop. i hope you had a good birthday. if not i hope this helps. love, your ellie.

“sit down,” ellie reenters the room, not noticing the card in your hand, too focused on the medical supplies in hers. when she does, her face heats up, her pale face flashing red. you continue to hold it as you obey her, sitting next to the teddy bear. she waits for you to speak first, and you do the same to her, which causes a moment of silence as she kneels on the floor before you.

you’re taken back, utterly shocked by how fucking precious the girl could be, how good it feels receiving appreciation from her. getting love from her. not the love you have for jesse or dina, something different, something incomparable. she has your heart clutched tightly in her fist.

“thank you, ellie.”

“it’s nothing,” she shrugs, pouring a bottle of water on a bathroom towel, then bringing it to your face. she’s gentle as she wipes the dark red liquid away, dabbing the injury, scanning your face for discomfort so she can stop immediately. she’s definitely going to yell at jesse.

“it’s something,” you tell her, “and it means a lot to me…it really does.”

she halts her movements for a second, the embarrassment that maybe she did too much, vanishing from her body. “yeah?”

“duh,” you laugh slightly, “i didn’t even remember it, ellie. i was too busy having a shitty day. so thank you for making it better.”

ellie smiles slightly, holding back the grin threatening to spread across her face. she continues to clean your injury, knowing she could scold you for not seeking medical attention right away, but she won’t ruin the moment.

she finishes up by placing a clean bandage over the wound, pressing it delicately against your skin, an odd urge to place a kiss on your forehead to signal she was done. she thinks it’s weird, and doesn’t do it.

ellie reaches for the newspaper-wrapped object beside you, taking the card from your hands and replacing it with the gift. “open it.”

“you didn’t have to—” “open it.”

you groan, doing as told, fighting the annoying strong duct tape and peeling the paper off carefully, not knowing what’s beneath it. ellie keeps her green irises steady on your face as you do so, watching your mouth part faintly when you see the uncovered gift. “ellie…”

it’s a vinyl. an old one. one you’d listen to on a cassette tape until it deteriorated, and you had lost access to the heavenly vocals of the band you so greatly adored. ellie’s not familiar with them, but she had told you she would like to be after how highly you had spoken about them.

she hadn’t forgotten that conversation, or that band, and excused herself on patrol to seek out the damn vinyl in every music shop. she didn’t know it would be so hard, but even if she did, she would search again and again and again. it’s not only a gift, it is a reflection of ellie’s admiration of you.

“how— why— i don’t even have a record player,” you point out, eyebrows dipping slightly at the harsh reminder. “so?” she asks like you just said the silliest thing in the world. “i do…we can listen to it together.”

it’s then that you notice her hand on your knee, thumb grazing through the denim of your jeans in a repeated motion. you forget about the throbbing in your head, and you no longer care about the soreness of your body. that, along with the entire world, seems to fade away right now.

it’s not just your heart in her hands. it’s you, your mind, your soul, everything you have is in her palms. everything she tells you makes you feel weightless, like time pauses and you don’t have to worry about a single thing. just her. nothing else. just ellie. no one else.

“i love you.”

ellie smiles, “love you too.”

“no, ellie, i…” you hesitate, sucking in the air and then exhaling. your eyes are on the birthday card next to you, the vinyl in your hands, and then her widened pupils. you realize then, that you don’t need to repeat yourself, you don’t need to emphasize it. ellie gets it. your hands are trembling, and she holds them. but something is wrong.

the moment stretches on endlessly, watching a shadow of sadness flicker over her beautiful features. without her saying a word, that she has yet to do, you understand. she won’t say it back. not in the sense that you wish for her to.

“i…dina came to me…after her and jesse…she…” ellie’s quiet voice drifts off, sparing you the details of the night dina first showed up at her door, a repeated pattern until they finally shared an intimate moment that led to a short-lived kiss.

something you missed, because you weren’t searching for hints they had something. something you crave. her head is down, “i’m sorry.”

your confession now hangs heavy over both of you. you feel sick. you feel dumb. and yet, you force a small, understanding smile. “it’s okay.”

the words feel hollow. ellie feels like shit. she’s never cried in front of you, and she’s fighting back the tears that so desperately want to fall right now. she hadn’t meant for this to happen. she hadn’t met to fall in love with her best friend, all while her other friend was falling for her.

she could’ve waited— she would’ve waited. but it happened so fast, and ellie had made a decision already.

“i’m um…really tired,” you chuckle, trying to ease the tension, but it somehow makes it worse.

“y/n—” “do you mind if we call it a night?”

“you hit your head pretty bad,” ellie says, the sorrow tone of her voice now mixing with worry, “you should stay up.”

“you’re not my doctor, ellie,” you immediately catch the snappy tone you give her the moment the sentence leaves your mouth, biting your tongue in response. ellie doesn’t point it out nor make an argument out of it. she is the most understanding with you. even if the context is her simply looking out for you. you fold in your lips, still holding the gift, ellie finally standing up.

she doesn’t know what to say. at all. she could say sorry a million times but eventually they will mean nothing to you. she doesn’t even know if they do now. “i uh…i’ll leave you alone.”

the worst words you could ever hear from the person you love the most in the world. of course, part of you wants her out of sight after the humiliation you just walked yourself into, but the other part of you wants to go with her, play the vinyl she had gifted you, and lay together in her bed as her finger taps in rhythm to the music on your thigh. but you can’t do that. not when her bed is reserved for someone else.

you barely nod, “okay.”

she gulps, hesitantly walking to your bedroom door, the one she was so happy to walk into just an hour prior. there’s guilt in each step she takes, her cheeks hot and mouth dry. she stops in your doorway, tugging at her bottom lip with her sharp teeth, glancing back at you.

whatever she was prepared to say, dies on her tongue, swallowing it down and opting for something else.

“happy birthday, y/n.”

then she’s gone. and you’re left alone with a teddy bear; a permanent reminder of this night. happy birthday to you.

[roryjfk]

there was a distinct chill that fell over the outskirts of the small town of stars hollow. ribbons of thick fog looped around pockets in the atmosphere, nearly kissing the ground. the dark, navy blue sky met with the distilled bright light of a full moon. in the dead of night, there was little of a whisper that caught wind of the surrounding buildings that had been built way before the man’s time. there jess mariano laid. resting — if one could even call it so — in the same position he started in. he was embraced by the soft and comforting touch of thin, ivory bed linens while the hours melted idly by. a heavy exhausted exhale slipped through tight borders, stubble lined lips pursing into a thin, expressionless line. silence was golden, some might say. in the confines of his trackless mind it was a recipe for aimless rumination. thankfully, an abridged whine of his ringtone scattered through the air like mist, awakening him fully to the sights and sounds of what he was about to press ACCEPT to. golden irises travelled to the screen of his cell phone, the name rory gilmore streaked across it. “rory?” he hushed out, his free palm rubbing the sleep out of the inner corners of his orbs. background noise was filled with an infant’s cries, immediately perking the man up while attempting to to decipher the desperation of his ex girlfriend’s tone.

she in fact needn’t say another word before the raven haired male understood the situation. “hey, hey no. don’t go apologizing. i’ll be there in twenty minutes,” he drifted, blurring himself as he plucked any pair of shoes he could find, shuffling through his half shelled closet to slip his leather jacket over his shoulders. trotting down the stairs, the man clutched his keys in one hand while jetting himself out the door. while jess wasn’t logan’s biggest fan, it felt wrong to express any sort of disparaging off the cuff insult at a time as this. though the thoughts never transpired into actual words, the most he could muster was as much support to rory as he could. finally pulling into the gilmore house driveway, jess pulsed a ring cladded rotund hand through his tussled mop of hair. emerging out of the vehicle and onto the front porch, a balled fist racked on the door, exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he was bottling up as a brisk cloud of air could be seen as evidence of his breath in the cold. awaiting with patience, both hands then stuck themselves into each pocket of his jeans, his weight shifting and rolling to the balls of his feet.

she's not sure how her mother did it at sixteen. hell, rory can barely do it in her thirties. god, by the time lorelai gilmore was in her thirties she already had a teenager, an adult by her mid thirties. it was so insane to think about. how they were at such different places at the same age. her mother, getting ready to send her daughter to an ivy. rory, on the edge of a nervous break down with a colicky baby. there was no shame in asking for help and her loved ones made that explicitly clear. she knew that. how lucky was she that she had such wonderful people in her life that would help her out. a lot of women didn't and she did. it wasn't lost on her. however, she wanted to prove to herself that she was capable of doing something by herself. that she didn't need to depend on help all the time. and if that meant dealing with a colicky baby in the dead of night on her own, then well. logan wanted them to be a family in london. london, who the hell did she have in london? no one. her support system was here. he was still in love with her, but she was in love with jess. someone she knew she could count on wholeheartedly. not that she would ever tell jess that though, that she was in love with him. there was bigger issues at hand than who rory gilmore had feelings for. the sound of a knock at her door snapping her out of her train of thought. the baby in her arms still visibly upset as she made her way to the door, a hand moving to open the door. her heart picking up at the sight of him. it always did that when she saw him. "hi, thank you so much for coming," the brunette offered an apologetic smile as she moved out of the way to let him in out of the crisp february cold. she's about to apologize again for calling so late, but remembers he hates when she does that. it's out of habit. "poor baby's just very colicky and i'm kind of losing my mind at moment," she explained, her attention tuning back to her son for a moment. "look, honey, it's jess," rory cooed to the infant who immediately took interest in the man, "we love jess, don't we?" the baby, definitely just the baby.

[leossmoonn]

(about jess mariano bdsm concept)

write whatever you feel comfortable writing.

i am aware that bdsm is a heavy subject to write about for some people and the bare act of you accepting to write the concept is more than enough for me.

however, i would gladly appreciate if the relationship with the reader and jess is explicitly consensual, when writing bdsm many people picture it as this brutal non-con sexual intercourse that results in a more traumatic experience rather than a pleasing one.

so if you could just incorporate that both jess and the reader are okay with partaking in these activities –maybe add a bit where the reader is getting overwhelmed so she uses her safe word and jess checks on her until she's ready to get back to it– i would really appreciate it.

and about my preferences for the concept, the only thing i'm keen on is ropes/tied up reader.

xoxo<3

I totally agree w the consensual part! I think bdsm can be as intimate and exciting if ppl wanna make it. And although I like “rough” sex, I still like the sweet parts. (I’m a very sensitive person and I couldn’t handle just being slapped around lmao). I’ll try my best to write this, I like never write stuff w ropes 😭, so I hope I do a good job.

16+

“You know the word right?” Jess asks as he tightens the ribbon.

“Hemingway,” you nod. Jess sits back on his heels and grind at you. “Atta girl.” He leans in, kissing you sweetly with his hand caressing your cheek.

“You sure you want to still do this?” He asks against your lips.

“I’m sure,” you nod. “Alright. Just remember to say the safe word. And if you forget, just say stop and I’ll stop,” he says.

You smile, “I will. Now come on, get to work. Cant leave me high and dry.”

His free hand trails down your pink, lacey bra, molding with the curvature of your hips before going down to your thighs. He presses his fingers to your damp panties, grinning like a devil. “You’re not really dry, baby.”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” You challenge him with your eyes.

His eyes grow dark with lust and he hooks his fingers under your panties, shoving them down your legs. You sigh as the cold air hits you. You watch as Jess’s eyes roam your almost naked body, licking his lips as his mouth salivates. He can smell you — you’re so sweet. He cant wait to taste you.

He takes your thighs in his hands and pushes them open, causing butterflies to flutter in your stomach. Your heart starts to race as he dips his finger into your heat, running it up your slit to collect your slick before settling on your throbbing clit. Your toes girl and your body jerks as he starts to rub his warm fingers on the sensitive bud. Your wrists pull against the right ribbon, desperate to grip the bedsheets or run through his hair. Jess flashes you a coy smile, enjoying seeing you struggle against the confines of the ribbon.

“You okay?” He asks. “Yeah. Just didn’t tell realize how much I’d want to grab something to hold onto,” you breathe out.

“You want the ribbon off?” He asks. As much as he enjoyed the show, he wanted to make sure you were enjoying it as well.

You shook your head furiously. “No. Please, just, go faster.”

He nods, rubbing the bundle of nerves at an alarming pace. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your hips are bucking up to his hands. You lift your leg up and place it on his shoulder, forcing his head down between your thighs. If you cant use your hands, then you could use your feet.

Jess chuckled are your neediness. “Patience, sweetheart.”

You whine and shake your head. “Want your mouth.”

You pull your lips into a pout, flashing those innocent eyes of yours. He sighs and complies. He cant disobey you for long. He dives down to your pussy, replacing his fingers with his tongue. His fingers slide into your folds. He groans against your skin at how easy he slipped in, at how warm you felt and how your walls immediately clamped around him. The vibrations of his hums sent thrills up your spine and you were hoping for more.

His lips close around your clit, sucking harshly as he pushed another finger into you. You planted your heels into the mattress, your upper body thrashing against the bed frame. You panted out his name, elongating each syllable and whining each time he hit your g-spot.

You two def used the tied up hands thing again

[macherkissed]

Wrapped Up in Pretty Ribbons-Billy Lenz X Female Reader

18+

Summary: The Moaner has taken a special interest in you that’s more than a little reciprocated. When the star of your secret perverted fantasies gives you the opportunity to make it reality, you take it.

Word Count: 4,126

Notes/Warnings: Typical Billy stuff (Dirty Talk, Voyeurism), Female Reader, , Masturbation, Clothes Stealing,  Slight Somnophilia, Penetration, Choking

What a good way to start the day. First you slept through your alarm, then you had no idea where you left your shoes so practically destroyed your room to find them, and in your hurry to go downstairs you almost fell flat on your face.

The only person up at this time was Claire, making a pot of coffee and greeting you with a smile “Morning.” “Hey.” You muttered, leaning against the counter and using the reflection of the toaster to help you twist a deep-orange ribbon into your hair “Where’s everyone else?” “In bed, Barb is probably trying to sneak out her ‘bedmate’ by now.” You sighed and rolled your eyes, unseen by her. You liked her, you really did, but she could be a little judgemental. “Good for her. At least someone’s getting some.” You ignored the slight scoff from her, the hypocrite, and carried on twisting the ribbon as well as you could into your hair. The second it was up to your standards, you stood and stretched, the toaster shooting toast up just a second later. Claire placed a mug of coffee in front of you and you thanked her before downing it in three gulps “I’ll see you later, give the girls my love.” “Have a good day.” She called as you left.

You didn’t notice, as you walked away, the figure in the attic window watching you. Minutes later, the phone rang.

When you finally got back home, to the girls, you felt like you could actually breathe properly. Work sucked, you’d had to rush your errands, it had been such a long day. All you wanted to do was listed to Barb tease Jess and Claire, and sit around with the other girls, cuddling up with Claude “Wow. I’m liking today’s look.” Phyllis trilled as she saw you. “Oh, thank you.” With a smile, you pulled at the ribbon awkwardly “It’s gotten a little loose but I think that makes it look a bit better.” “Definitely, you look great. Doesn’t she, Barb?” “Absolutely gorgeous.” She didn’t look up for that long, but it still made you smile. “I’m going to get into something more comfortable.” You were waved off and scuttled upstairs, already removing your shirt since you were only in the company of girls and they were practically sisters to you.

The shirt was dropped away to the hamper beside your door, quickly followed by your bra. It was as you were shuffling your jeans down your thighs that you heard it; a growl, coming from behind you. You shot around, instinct making you cover your chest. But there was nothing there, no one at all, and you sighed at your stupidity: It was an old house, the pipes would groan and the walls and doorframes would shift, you should be used to this. But with the Moaner… Shaking all thoughts of him away you finished getting undressed and put your comfortable clothes on. Your ribbon came out with a simple tug and was left in the box with the others. Ever since one of the other girls, Elaine, had put ribbons in your hair for Barb’s last birthday party, you’d gotten a little obsessed; now you had ribbons for your hair, your waist, your neck, even to curl up your arms when you felt like it. It had sort of become your Thing. Now, you just settled for a white bow around your left wrist before you went downstairs again

You’d hardly settled down on the chair, with your bowl of soup curtesy of Jess, when the phone rang. It was Phyl that answered since she was actually in the hall. No one paid attention, carrying on with their own conversations until she called out a strangely familiar phrase “It’s him again!” In seconds, everyone was crowded around as you strained to hear what filth he’d say this time. As always, he just moaned and groaned and made vulgar animalistic noises, up until he almost giggled “Such a pretty piggy.” He growled and started snorting like a pig himself for a few seconds “I bet your cunt is just as pretty. I’ll ruin it, I’ll…” He let out a rumble, not exactly a moan and almost a snarl “I’ll take that…that purple ribbon and I’ll wrap it around your throat.” All eyes turned to you, as your heart dropped straight to your gut and your blood froze. Of course, you had a purple ribbon, you had a few of them. A lilac one you had was definitely long enough to had around your throat, you’d worn it tangled up your arm in a criss-cross pattern just two days before “I’ll choke you with it, pull you back onto my cock. You’ll scream for me. Scream for Billy.” A deep blush started to bleed across your cheeks as, inexplicably, your mind trailed to the thought of this faceless crude man coiling the length of fabric around your neck and using the ends as reins to drag you back to meet the movement of his hips as he fucks into you, you being unable to do much more than take it.  Another pornographic moan of pure pleasure came from the phone, followed by a dark growl of a laugh that was cut off by him placing the receiver down.

As always when the moaner ended his calls, everyone was silent for a beat or two before, as expected, Barb broke it “He’s getting more creative.” “Barb.” Jess sighed. “What? At least he’s putting effort into it now.” “You’re so insensitive.” Clare sighed, no one noticing as you wandered back to your chair and your soup. “Like hell I am.” “He blatantly threatened Y/N.” Jess said, a little more forcefully. “If you think that’s a threat then I really pity Peter.” “Wait, where’s Y/N?” Rebecca said, only just audible to you from the living room. Her and the others came in quickly to see you sat quite cosily with a spoon in your mouth. “Hey.” You said, slightly muffled around the utensil and quite well hiding how flustered you were. “Are you okay?” Jess asked with that worried frown she did so well. “Yea.” You shrugged casually “He’s just a creep, I’m not going to let him get to me.” “Are you sure?” “Of course she’s sure. She’s stronger than any gross shit he can say.” Your smile was, considering the situation, quite sweet towards the girls. “Thanks, Barb. Let’s just forget the weirdo, and carry on.”

But you didn’t forget about him. It was a dirty secret even to yourself, that sometimes after his dirty calls you’d end up touching yourself to the thought of a perverted stranger groaning depraved things as he fucked you like he promised; you always told yourself that of course it wasn’t the mysterious caller you were imagining but it was getting trickier to do.

You were one of the first to bed, using your busy day as a quick exit without more questions on if you were okay. More than thrilled to finally be alone and undisturbed (though you loved the girls), you stripped totally and changed into your sleep shorts and a large shirt before snuggling under the covers. As you lay in the darkness, the moaner’s words echoed again in your head: they were disgusting, obscene and violent and repulsive, but you still found the image coming to you so clearly yet again. Your hands absently came to your breasts and started to pinch and stroke and tease your nipples for some form of dull pleasure as you felt a heat begin to flower between your thighs. You tried to recall Billy’s voice as he called you pretty , as he called you –all of you- sluts and whores, as he said that you were all sweet little cunts waiting to be fucked, all the filthy things he’d terrify the girl’s hearts with in the day and torment your mind with at night.

One hand snaked into your shorts and trailed down to your entrance, surprising yourself with how wet you already were. As you started to rub your clit, eyes falling closed and gasps escaping your throat, you didn’t notice the crack in the closet door widen a little, or the eye peeking out and trained on your covered body, or the gentle sound of skin rutting against skin or the low breaths, you were too caught up in your mounting pleasure and the fantasy intruder touching you and restricting not only your movement but your breathing. Experimentally, your hand came up to curl around your throat just to feel. You couldn’t tighten your grip as much as you’d like, not without surrendering your ability to touch yourself, but what limited pressure you could give only seemed like a tease in your fantasy; a false sense of security and softness before he pulled the ribbon taut and wrapped it around his fist to pound you as he said he would, making you his piggy slut. It was, surprisingly, the thought of him growling your name that brought you over the edge. And, while you didn’t scream his name, a laboured moan of “Billy” did slip from your lips. Yes, shame did take over eventually as you were cleaning yourself up, but it wasn’t as if anyone knew.

But only if you knew, as the figure waited until you were asleep before leaving his hiding spot in the closet and retreating back into the attic, with a cotton souvenir snatched from the top of your hamper.

The next morning, you adorned your neck with a black and hot-pink striped bow and quietly pattered down the stairs. Today you weren’t out so quickly, so you could have some breakfast and actually enjoy your coffee. As you wandered past the stairs to the living room with a slice of toast in your mouth, the phone rang. As you all seemed to, almost forgetting Him, you answered with an innocent “Hello?” Only to be greeted with those deep growly moans yet again. Traitorous heat flared up between your thighs at the animal sounds. “Your pussy smells so good. I want to taste it, want to lick it….Oh, want to lick it.” Nothing much out of the ordinary then. You’d feign disinterest, hang up, and keep his babbled filth in your mind for later. Leaning against the table, you bit the inside of your lip and listened to the typical repeated snorted and snarling and promises to make you scream and to ruin you with his cock.

He got no reply, evidently, so changed it up with a dark chuckle “You look very pretty when you cum.” It only shocked you, at first, how clear he was speaking. You hadn’t heard him ever sound anything but distorted and monstrous “Like such a desperate slut, with your hand around your throat and moaning for Billy.” You didn’t mean to gasp but how could you help it. The moaner had been in the house, in your room, as you were masturbating, to thoughts of him. That little noise pulled a laugh from Billy “Yes, I saw you. You like Billy, don’t you? You want Billy to fuck your hungry cunt.” With your eyes squeezed closed, you shifted and pressed your thighs together tightly. There was so much fucked up about this, least of all the voyeuristic intruder hiding in your bedroom, but you were still terrifyingly turned on by him “Don’t you want me to fuck you?” When you didn’t answer after a few seconds, you heard a growl “Don’t you?!” “Yes.” “Keep your door open a little for me tonight.” Then he hung up, leaving you gormless for a few seconds before you put the phone down.

There was no way that this was real. He was just chatting shit, to shake you and get his sick kicks from it. He would have said that to any of you, he probably didn’t even know the names of any of you. So you shook the conversation out of your head and went back to getting ready for the day, insistent on forgetting the call.

Of course, just as the night before, you didn’t forget. It stuck with you all day, through your job and as you came back to the house and started studying (it may have been winter break but that didn’t mean you could slack off) and even through the bit of drama that flared up between Barb and Mrs Mac. For the second night in a row, you excused yourself to bed early. The girls noticed “Are you feeling okay?” Claire asked just as you stood to leave. “Hmm? Yea, of course. I’ve just been…Having a hard time staying asleep. I thought that if I go to bed earlier, even if I wake up a lot, I’ll get more sleep.” It did little to stop the worried looks on their faces but you were allowed up to bed at least.

It was ridiculous that you hesitated closing the door, but you were…curious. The likelihood of Him actually behind here was quite low, so why would you leave the door open? But then what would the harm be to leave it open just a little? You felt ridiculous for actually leaving the door open, barely enough to be noticed, yet you still did and quickly undressed for bed. Rather than slipping on another pair of cosy shorts or pants, though you had plenty, you chose to instead go completely bottom-less beneath your large shirt as you crawled into bed. For about an hour and a half until you fell asleep, every noise made your ears perk up; the creak of the stairs as the other girls came up to bed, the doors squeaking when they’d tiptoe down the hall, every groan of the walls and the pipes put you on edge. When the door opened a little, you waited with a thumping heart just for a few seconds before turning towards it.

Claude was there, looking up at you sweetly and licking his little nose. You groaned and got up instantly “Get out of my room, kitty. Go.” A ‘mmph!’ of distain came from the fluffball as you urged him out of your room and down the hall a little “Go cuddle Mrs Mac.” Barb’s door opened, making you shoot up and pull your shirt down a little to cover your dignity. Barb stepped out twice before she noticed you, leaning against the wall with a slight smirk. “Oh, wow. Do you usually sleep like that?” “Uh, no. Can you just-“ “-Is there someone in your room?”  She teased as she moved to peak into your room, making you frown. “No.” “Are you waiting for someone?” “Piss off, Barb.” You pouted as a blush started to creep over your cheeks, quickly scuttling away into your room as her laugh trailed behind you. You didn’t close your door all the way, looking towards it almost hopefully until you finally fell asleep.

It seemed like not even a minute before you were woken up, being turned onto your stomach slowly. You didn’t even open your eyes until the first press of lips against your neck. It was totally dark, and you could feel the weight of someone at your back “Such a dirty slut.” How did his voice sound even hotter, fuck. His hands slowly slid down your back, bunching the blanket down as he did “Waiting for Billy like this, you’re a naughty piggy.” When his hands came to your hips, bare of the shirt that had ridden up a little, he looked down almost shocked before he gripped your hips tightly  “All ready for me? You really do want Billy.” His lips came to your ear and he growled “Are you wet as well?” Teasingly slow, his hand traced from your hip to your ass, leaving a harsh spank there before trailing down between your thighs to part your pussy lips and draw his middle finger across your slit.

Even you were surprised at how wet you were already, and Billy evidently appreciated it if his moan was any indication “Naughty teasing slut.” He punctuated his degradation by pushing two fingers roughly into you. It probably would have hurt, more than just stung as it did, if you weren’t as turned on as you were, and you let out a gasp of a moan as you gripped the pillow tightly. Instantly he set a brutal pace of fucking you with his fingers, not even bothering to try and find your sweet spot. “Billy, fuck.” You whined, trying to shift just slightly and raise your hips, to get him deeper.  He chuckled and pulled his fingers back a little more “Billy.” His other hand, at your pathetic whimper, moved from your hip and you heard him fumbling with his trousers. “Do you want it? Do you want me to fill your pretty piggy cunt with this cock?” “Fuck yes.” He chuckled darkly before moving back a little and pulling your hips up just enough to trail the head of his cock across your pussy.

There was no tease, no suspense, hardly any anticipation before he deemed you both ready and first pushed into you. Just the feeling of the tip breeching into you was perfect; you hadn’t had sex in longer than you cared to say, and just this much of him showed you that he really would be filling you. The further he moved inside you, the more laboured his breathing got until his hips were flush against yours. He laid himself over your back and spattered biting kisses across your neck and what was exposed of your shoulder. His hair fell in front of your face, soft and light, as he just stayed still against you “You’re so hot and wet, fuck.” Had you not been trying to adjust to the feeling yourself, you would have realised how wrecked he sounded. Later, when looking back on it, you would realise and wonder just how long it had been for him. Though he started rocking his hips slowly, it didn’t take too long for him to really begin fulfilling his promises. Each slight thrust was enough to shift the bed a little, nevermind make your eyes flutter and your grip tighten on your pillow as you smothered moans into it. With one hand stuck on your hip, his other curled around to your stomach before snaking upwards to grope your breast. Another animal growl came from him as you moaned his name and tried to rocked back against him, his fingers closing around the hard peak of your nipple. Your position didn’t allow you to really do much however, other than arch your back and whine desperately. Through the haze of pleasure in your mind you managed to moan out “Harder.” “Yes. I’ll make you scream, little piggy.”

“Y/N.” You said as he pulled away and started to rise up onto his knees. He paused and you could almost hear him frown. “What?” “My name, is Y/N.” He was still again for a beat or two. “You’d like to hear me say it?” “Yes. You like it when I say yours.” You duck your head and put on a pouty voice, playfully worried “Don’t you, Billy?” “Dirty girl.” He growled, gripping your hips tightly and pulling you to him. You had to raise yourself onto your elbows so you didn’t hit your face on the mattress. In a second, he’d filled you entirely again, seeming to accidentally hit your sweet spot “Filthy, filthy slut. Ma…making Billy think... Naughty things.” Another, now purposeful, roll of his hips distracted you enough that you didn’t notice him reach over to your nightstand and take a ribbon from your collection. Just briefly, he bent over you again and slowly turned your face towards him. You could barely see any detail of his face, just a silhouette “Do you want it harder, Y/N?” A shudder ran up your spine at how he said your name. “Yes, Billy, please.” He chuckled and said nothing before guiding you into a biting kiss.

Near instantly after pulling away, he wrapped the ribbon around your neck; just tight enough that there was a light pressure but you could still breathe at least. Billy almost seemed to hesitate again before you started to rock back and fuck yourself on him just a little. The second that you did, he pulled you back totally, using the ribbon as reigns, so your hips were flush against his. When he started to finally properly move, slowly at first but reaching so deep, your eyes almost rolled back in your head: He felt so good that you couldn’t help but moan quite loudly, company in the house be damned. Billy didn’t mind, he was making just as much noise and your evident pleasure seemed to spur him on if anything.

The room started to fill with those lewd noises and having them echo back to you just served to make you more flustered; you almost sounded as obscene as the pornos you pretended not to have seen, and were sure you looked just as erotic. After all, he was still fully clothed and your shirt was bundled up just above your navel, not even including the ribbon coiled around your throat. Through it all, you heard Billy mumbling to himself, all you could hear of it was dark growls of your name and the occasional strained ‘fuck’ or ‘cunt’. Eventually he pulled the ribbon taught to pull you up onto your knees, managing to cut your air off in the middle of a moan, making the sound end as an almost violent gag. After that point, you were seemingly nothing but a toy; you couldn’t move any more than clenching your fists in the sheets and curling your toes, your moans were barely audible due to the pressure on your throat, you could hardly whisper encouragements and curses that you hoped he could hear. The harder he treated you, the more vocal he became. “You feel so…f’king good.” He grunted out, broken between deep breaths “God, you’re so wet. Such a….pretty slut, Y/N, I love watching you…so much better than the other girls.” Another tug on the fabric tilted your head back further, to the point that if you looked up enough you could see the silhouette of him behind you. Probably you’d have been able to adjust to the darkness and see a little of what he looked like, but the strain was too much so you just closed your eyes. “Billy.” You breathed, as loud as you could “I want to cum, make me cum, please.” A very pleased noise came from him before he twisted both ends of the ribbon around his hand and snaked the other between your legs to toy with your clit gently. However light the touch was, it was just enough to bring you right to the edge.

You trembled from head to toe as your end just kept building up higher and higher. One of your hands came back to grab the ribbon and pull it just a little, hoping that would give you some release. Of course Billy caught on and he easily took over: He wrapped even more of the ribbon around his hand until his knuckles almost touched the back of your neck. In one fluid motion, he pulled you up to his chest, the ribbon cutting off each attempt to breathe. All it took was one more perfect thrust before you came. It was so much stronger than…any you’d had in months. His breathing was quite shallow and his hold on you tight, he seemed to have some difficulty holding back as you came down from your peak. He didn’t last too long after that, whining your name desperately as he hurriedly pulled out of you and spilled his release over the back of your thighs. His lips feel to your neck and spattered kisses along the pink mark that had already started blooming across your neck as he unwrapped the now loose ribbon. You were glad to breathe again but surprisingly more content at the touches Billy was giving you. That didn’t last too long.

“Naughty Billy.” He suddenly muttered to himself, pulling away “Made a mess.” You whined a little when he moved off the bed but he was soon back and cleaning up your thighs. You lay down almost as soon as he was done, exhausted and already feeling slightly sore. Billy didn’t say much more before leaving, and you feel asleep with a smile on your face just a second after hearing the attic door close.

[ct7567329]

Handsome: Echo x Reader

Before I start I wanna let who ever asked that I do have your Jesse request coming :)

~~~~~

Prompt: A hello/good-bye kiss that is given without thinking -- where neither person thinks twice about it.

~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't okay and every second you spent looking at him, you prayed you wouldn't fall deeper in love. This didn't work.

You wiped the beads of sweat off your forehead with your arm and turned your head. On the equipment behind you, Echo had his eyes shut, his arms lifting the heavy weights off his chest. The ARC was wearing the Republic supplied work out shorts and tank, exposing his toned biceps.

You were one of the Jedi that didn't see the clones as clones, but individual men, and something about Echo that made him stand out was his well earned biceps. Every now and then when you caught a glimpse of him, you would think about how his strength could dominate you any day. But, you always let those thoughts quickly escape you mind. It wasn't the Jedi way.

Before getting too deep in thought, you left the on cruiser gym and went into you quarters to freshen up before the next mission.

*******

"You're troubled," your master informed you as you walked into the briefing room, "Your mind is clouded."

As much as you agreed, you weren't willing to tell him much, "I'm a Jedi Knight now. It's okay." This was your go to excuse, and he never liked that. Though your rank did change, it didn't take away the fact that you would always be his padawan. Ever since you said that, he gave you a stern look. You had to change the topic, "can I go with the 501st?"

"The 501st is on leave at 1300," he informed you, putting up a holopad, "but I could give you a break as well. You've gone well beyond your expectations lately."

You nodded and asked him if he needed anything else before you left.  There was nothing to be done so you back to your quarters to back a few things before you got in your personal ship to fly down to Coruscant. When you finished packing your essentials, you made you way to the hangar. The 501st was gathered in the hangar discussing their plans for leave together.

"General!" Fives called, motioning you over to the group, earning him an elbow to the side from Echo.  Though you were their general, you tired to avoid situations involving Echo at all costs. You let out a soft sigh and walked over to them.

"What's up?" you asked, putting yourself in between Rex and Fives to limit eye contact, or contact at all with Echo. Ignorance is bliss, right?

Kix shot a look at Echo before addressing you, "Would you like to go to 79's with us tonight?"

"Oh, I'm not much fo a drinker," you quickly responded, oblivious to what the boys have planned.

"There's food there, it's not just drinking," Kix reassured you, making sure he was a being a good wingman for his brother.

You shrugged, "I guess I'll meet you there at 2100."

Kix winked at Echo as you turned away, going unnoticed by you. The fact that you agreed to go to that place disgusted you, and you have no idea why you said yes. You hopped in your ship as you regretted your decision and flew off the cruiser, setting a course for Coruscant.

*******

You slowly walked up the stairs of the Jedi Temple, and stared at it in its glory. It was the closest thing to home you had. Jedi were never supposed to keep possessions, but the few you did have were hours here, where it would be safe. As soon as you entered your quarters, you dropped your backpack to the ground and laid on your bed, wrapping you up in a cozy blanket. You were home. Meeting the boy's at 79's was still a few hours away so you decided to take the time to meditate your feelings away.

You were in love with Echo.

Through the force, you tried to channel your feelings elsewhere. You were attached. You were knifing attached. Since the moment you were a youngling, the one thing that was drilled into your head was that attachment is forbidden.

"Great. I commit Jedi sin, number one," you groaned, getting up off the ground and opening your closet. Your outfit options were limited but you chose a royal blue tube top with ribbons that flowed down your arms with ripped black jeans. There was a new pair of black combat boots in your closet so you went with those as well. After putting on your outfit you looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed. Something wasn't right, and you HAD to look perfect since Echo would be there. You played around with your hair and makeup until you felt satisfied with how you looked. To finish it off, you clipped your lightsaber to you waist.

To be honest, you weren't even sure if Jedi were allowed to go to 79's but that didn't stop you.  The temple was quiet, which allowed you to leave undetected. Trying to find the 501st would be near impossible without comming one of them so you figured you would just meet them at 79's. It wasn't too long of a speeder trip away.

Once there, you parked your speeder and approached the entrance. Kix was standing outside the entrance waiting for you.

"General!" he called, motioning you over.

You laughed, "Kix, we are off duty. Call me (Y/N)!"

"It's just so natural to call you General," he smiled, "but let's get inside, everyone's waiting!"

You and Kix walked inside and over to the table where the 501st was sitting. The seat saved for you was next to Echo. Great, you thought to yourself, taking the seat next to him.

"Hey boys!" you smiled.

They all greeted you then continued their conversations and ordered drinks. While you were talking to Rex, Fives kicked Echo under the table and cleared his throat.

"Gen-(Y/N)," Echo corrected himself.

You turned your head to look at him, "What's up Echo?"

"Uh-I," he stuttered, "You look wonderful."

You froze inside. There is no WAY he just said that. The longer you waited to reply, the more anxious Echo got about the situation, thinking he blew it.

"You as well," you nodded, taking a sip of your drink.

The night went on and before you knew it, half of the 501st couldn't stand up. Kix groaned and rested his head on the table, knowing he would have to deal with all their complaints tomorrow morning. You kept yourself composed, only having a few drinks. Echo on the other hand, not so much. It didn't take long for the drinks to make him lose his nervousness around you. You didn't mind him leeching onto you, but you wished he was actually in his right mind.

"Echo, let's bring you home," you suggested, his arm tightening around your shoulder.

"But this is fun!" he whined, trying to grab another drink.

You took it out of his hand and replaced it with water, "Let's leave, Echo."

He finally agreed with you. You let Kix know he was taking him back before leaving.

"You're pretty," he slurred as you strapped him into the speeder.

Sober Echo saying this would make your heart jump, but maybe the drinks were just making him say things he was afraid to say. Once he was strapped in, you started the speeder. Without thinking, you started to ride towards the Temple.

Should I bring him here or should I drive around to find his barracks. Should I let him stay with me?

You decided on bringing him to the temple. When you parked at the Temple, you helped a semi-conscious Echo out of the back of the speeder.

"You're going to have to be quiet," you told him, throwing his arm over you. Carefully, you brought him up to your room and sat him on your bed. You got him a cup of water and gave him a fever killer pill, "This will help you tomorrow, I promise."

He took it with ease then made a funky look.

"What's wrong?" you asked, concerned.

"I can't sleep like this," he slurred, taking his armor off. You watched him strip from his armor, exposing his toned body in his tight blacks. You turned to your closet, biting your lip and grabbed some oversized sweatpants. There is no way he is doing this in front of me. A loud thud made you quickly turn around, seeing Echo now sitting on the floor.

"Let's get you back up," you laughed, sitting him on the bed. You handed him the sweats, "I'm sure you don't want to sleep in those dirty blacks, they may be a bit short on you but these may do."

He smiled as he took them, cupping his hand around your cheek, "Thank you, mesh'la."

You only knew a few words in Mando'a and that wasn't one of them, but you assumed it wasn't anything terrible. He started to take his blacks off and as bad as you wanted to watch, you turned away to give privacy. As soon as you turned, you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"Echo," you laughed, "finish changing."

He made a pout face, "Can you please help me."

He sounded like a child.

You got up and put your hands on his back, grabbing the zipper and pulling it down slowly. All you could ever ask for is a moment this intimate with Echo. Kriff, he was the love of your life, and he didn't even know. As you pulled down his zipper, you noticed the small scars. His battle scars. It took all of your impulse control to not kiss them to try to take the trauma away.

"You're a handsome man, Echo," you let slip, immediately regretting it. You quickly unzipped the rest of his top blacks and got up, praying he didn't hear that. Echo didn't acknowledge it, he just continued to undress, putting your sweatpants on. They weren't a perfect fit, but they worked.

Echo instantly fell asleep the second he put them on. Before you fell asleep, you poured him another glass of water and put it on the night stand.

"Goodnight Echo," you whispered, falling asleep on the floor.

*********

You woke up the next morning to a coughing Echo.

"Are you okay?!" you asked, shooting up from you sleep.

He rubbed his eyes, "Yeah, just have a headache."

You laughed, "Yeah, I can imagine!"

"Thank you for watching me," he smiled, making your heart melt. It was at this moment you realized, he spent the night in YOUR quarters and now he was sober. All your nervousness around him quickly came back.

You turned red and looked away, "It was my pleasure. But unfortunately I have some Jedi things to attend soon." This was a lie, but you were just too worried you would say something stupid in front of him if he stayed much longer.

"Well, I guess I'll be going then," he sighed, "but again, thank you so much for taking care of me."

You gave him a soft smile and turned around as he changed back into his armor. When he was done gearing up, you turned again to face him, awe striking your face. Something about his ARC armor always made you internally swoon.

"See you later, (Y/N)!" he said as he walked towards your door. You followed him to the door and stood in the door frame as he exited.

Before he walked away he cupped his hand on your cheek and crashed his lips into yours. You couldn't even being to describe the shock, but it all felt so right. It wasn't a long kiss, but the passion felt as if it was building up forever, on both sides.

"Oh Kriff I just kissed my General!"

"Oh Kriff I just kissed my ARC!"

You both gasped simultaneously, followed by a speechless look.

"I am so sorry," Echo exclaimed, "I don't know what I was-"

"No no," you cut him off, "I'm sorry it was me who did it."

"So you wanted to kiss me?" he questioned.

You opened your mouth to respond and then closed it, then opened again, but you couldn't get any words out.

"I think we may feel the same way about each other," he whispered, biting his lower lip softly.

"What makes you think that?"

"Someone said, you're a handsome man Echo, last night. And quite honestly I think you're a gorgeous girl."

You stood there speechless yet again.

Echo shrugged his shoulders, "But you have 'Jedi Stuff' to attend so I best be going now."

"Wait!" you stopped him, "Can we do that again?"

"Kiss?"

"Yeah," you smiled, grabbing both his hands and pulling him back into your room.

"I'd like that," he laughed, kissing your nose.

[meshkol-creations]

Day 23 of Kinktober 2019: Corset

Tags: corset, slight D/s dynamics

Pairing: Kurtbastian

Notes: Day 23. Er. Oops. I just...really had no inspiration (or time) to get to this unfinished fest, and this small fic was kind of half-finished but the muse was gone so it just sat on my hard-drive for ages. Finally half-heartedly finished it, so I'm not super happy with it, but eh. I'd like to finish this fest at some point, preferably before I move in the next few weeks. Anyway, enjoy this unbeta'd thing.

*

“Okay, so that’s hot.”

Kurt throws Sebastian a look that practically drips with exasperated annoyance, but who can really blame Sebastian really? Kurt Hummel in general is a wet dream itself, but Kurt Hummel in a corset? Yeah, who the fuck can blame him? And it’s pretty too: a silky blue that is fucking gorgeous against his pale skin, black ribbons laced along his lean but muscular back, the waist trimmed with silk lace.

“No, it’s, like, seriously hot,” Sebastian says, and the earnestness he was aiming for is replaced by total awe. “Seriously, majorly hot. When the fuck did you get so hot?”

“I’ve always been this hot,” Kurt says with a truly spectacular eye roll, eyes green from purple and black eye makeup and so fucking pretty that Sebastian kind of wants to die. “It’s not my fault that you were an idiot in high school and didn’t realise this fact.”

He intends to say something along the lines of ‘I’ve always thought you were hot’, which is both accurate and something Sebastian has reiterated constantly since they’ve been doing the whole dating thing as a form of apologetic and genuine reinforcement, but instead what comes out is: “You are so hot.”

Kurt rolls his eyes again. “You’ve seen me in more flattering and revealing outfits, Sebastian, and you’ve also seen me naked. A lot. As in every day for the past year. I have it on good authority that you vastly prefer me without clothes, so why is this breaking your brain?”

Sebastian decisively does not have a good response for that, so instead he gives up on putting on the rest of his Hallowe’en costume so he can drop to his knees, yanking Kurt towards him by his hips and mouthing at the sheer knickers he’s wearing. Seems like an absolute shame that he’s going to be covering these black scraps of lace up with literally anything else; if it was up to Sebastian, Kurt would wear this corset, these knickers, some black stockings with lacy garters, and six-inch heeled boots that will do wonders for his arse and legs. Not that Kurt really needs the help in that area – Sebastian’s slept with an obscene amount of people in his dedicated career in fucking, but no one holds a candle to Kurt Hummel’s arse.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Sebastian mumbles, getting the fabric wet and delighting at the soft moan of surprised arousal Kurt lets out as his prick starts to fatten up against Sebastian’s lips. He’s half-tempted to just yank them down and slip that lovely, delicious prick into his mouth and suck him into full hardness, but he supposes that they do have to leave so they’re not even more late to Jesse St James’s party than they already are.

Which Kurt mentions, albeit breathlessly: “We are already two hours late.”

Sebastian whines in the back of his throat, still mouthing at the stiffening prick through the sheer fabric, and he feels Kurt’s fingers wind into his short hair, just enough grip to physically pull his head away. Sebastian whines again, mouth watering with want, but he still goes pliant in Kurt’s grip, not bothering to conceal his frown of disappointment.

“If you’re good tonight, I’ll fuck you while I’m wearing this corset,” Kurt offers, voice rough and enticing, then continues, “but if you’re bad, I’ll tie you up and get myself off without touching you. Understand?”

Sebastian swallows thickly, nearly blind with arousal, and manages to husk out, “Yes.”

Kurt grins at him, a mischievous and devilish flash of teeth, and then says, “Up you get, pet. We’ve got a party to get to.”

Sebastian groans, but follows Kurt’s order in a daze, already looking forward to his reward.

---

also read on ao3

[the101stbattalion]

Battle of Baydor: Chapter 4

Masterlist: 1│2│3│4│5

Marching in the dense jungle with their men, Anakin's posture was hunched as he hardly utters a word from his mouth. His Togruta apprentice's eyes glanced sideways towards him, frowning. This isn't like Skyguy at all, she noticed. He must be having a lot of doubts about the plan.

He couldn't help it. Worrying for Eva and Lira's safety. As the adult in charge of watching them, he couldn't control his feelings. If anything goes wrong, it's all on him. Obi-Wan and Vanya would lecture him for putting the kids at risk, or worse. He crossed two of his fingers, hoping things will go as plan.

"Everything alright, Skyguy?" Ahsoka questioned her master, both hands by her side. The hazelnut-haired Jedi glanced at Ahsoka, giving her a slight smile. "I'm fine, Snips."

"Is it the plan?" she guessed, letting Anakin sighed and nodded. "Unfortunately so."

"I know those girls will pull this off, master, " she reassured him. "They've been cheating death more than once and have each other's back."

"I know they do, Ahsoka. It's just that if anything bad happened to them, you know how Obi-Wan and Vanya will react."

"Oh, yeah. I can imagine that right now in my head."

"You do realise we're both standing right beside you, right?" Lisa glared at Anakin and Ahsoka, her arms crossed. Ahsoka snicked as she rubbed the back of her white and blue montrals, baring her teeth slightly. "Sorry about that, gingerbread."

Eva let out a soft chuckle and covered her mouth, signing with her fingers. "Oh, they'll be in for a surprise."

"Can't wait to see the look on their poor faces, " Lira gestured back, giggling. Anakin raised one of his eyebrows at the twins, puzzled. What are those rascals up to now?

As they arrived at Point 4, they found themselves standing in the opposite direction of the huge Separatist Army. With an entire legion of B1 battle droids and Super Battle Droids, followed by a huge spider droid and tanks. "That's a whole load of them, " Rex exclaimed.

Commander Tori looked through his binoculars to searched for the tactical droid, in no avail. "I don't see the tactical droid."

Eva smiled as she stood up, taking a deep breath. Looking at her reflection in her compact mirror, she adjusted her blue ribbon on her hair and cleared her throat, lifting her head and straightened her posture. "Looks like it's showtime."

"I'll accompany you, Evie, " Lira spoke, holding her hand. "Just in case you get super nervous."

"I hope you girls know what you're doing, " Anakin's voice screeched. "It's too late to back out now."

"Just give'er, eh?" Tori placed her hand on Eva's shoulder. "We will, Tori. Just make sure to stand-by just in case things go wrong."

The pink-armoured commander gave a nod as she watched the sisters walking into a wide-opened field, hand-to-hand. Eva felt her heart pounding a little faster than usual as she squeezed Lira's hands tighter. I hope Obi-Wan's teachings paid off, she thought, glaring at the enormous armies. I can't disappoint him, or the Council.

Reaching to the other side of the field, Eva waves at one of the battle droids on the tank, giving them a warm smile. "Good morning, " she chirped. "How are you?"

The B1 battle droid scratched its metal head, glancing at each other. "Uh, we're fine, I guess, " it answered. "What are you doing out here?"

"Oh, that's good to hear, " she replied at their answer, raising both her hands in mid-air. "We're here to surrender."

The B1 tilted its head downwards, rubbing its thin neck. "And why would you want to do that?"

"Because we can't win against your army, " her eyebrows drooped downwards, shedding a few tears from her eyes. "Your droid army is much more superior compared to the clones so we've both decided to give ourselves in."

"So, what did you want us to do?" it asked, lifting its shoulders up. "Could you take us to your commander?"

The droids pondered for a few seconds before they gave a nod to the twins, lifting up the barb wires for the both of them. The girls smiled at each other as they followed them inside the enemy line, and were led to the olive-painted tactical droid.

"What is it now, Sarge?" the tactical droid glanced at the droid, speaking in a monotone voice. "The Jedi wished to surrender, sir."

The tactical droid froze as it stared at Eva and Lira, before shifting his focus towards his underlings. "This is highly irregular, " he told them. "I calculated that the Republic should be here by now and attack with the clone forces."

"I assure you that we want to give ourselves up to the Separatist, " Eva convinced, breaking into tears. "We were outnumbered by your great glorious voices and we can't stand to lose more lives to you."

"Are you being truthful right now?"

"My sister and I are terrible liars, " Lira told him, frowning. "We can't even tell a white lie, really. You can ask my friends if you don't believe me."

The tactical droid placed its fingers on his chin and looked up for a few moments, before giving a nod and invited the girls to sit down, facing him.

Eva gave a wide smile and placed both her elbows on the table, clasping her hands together. "What is it you want to discuss in these terms of surrender?"

"As your prisoner, we would like a fair treatment under the Separatist, along with the clones as well, " she told him. 

"What else can you offer us?"

"We would also like to offer you all the intel we know about the Republic, " she gleamed, giving a quick glance at Anakin and Ahsoka's forces. "I know Count Dooku would want it so badly to win this war."

"It's a very tempting offer, " he pondered, uncertain whether he would want to give in so easily. The younger twin crossed her legs and smirked to herself. This is going pretty well just as planned, she thought, feeling her clammy palms. Maybe I should be more generous.

"As an agent of the Republic, I am extremely skilled in espionage missions," she continued to boast, hoping to win its trust. "While my sister can not only repair and fix droids, she can even build one out of scraps, like the hummingbird droid."

Lira opened her backpack and took out the hummingbird droid that she used moments ago. "That is impressive," he praised, as he held the tiny thing and studied its feature. "Could you demonstrate for me its function?"

She gave a nod of acknowledgement and let it hover around the droids with her controller. "This beauty can not only fly, but it can be useful as a spy droid, monitoring every transmission made by our enemy and collect data from them."

"That is really impressive, actually," the B1 droids chirped. "Roger, roger," they said in unison. The commander's gaze was fixed on the Jedi Knights for a while, unable to speak through its voice modulator. 

"So," Lira broke the awkward silence between them. "Now could we surrender?"

"Yes," he agreed to her words. "But you must give up all your weapons to us first."

Eva and Lira gave a quick look at each other before taking off their lightsaber from their belt, slipping it on their table, along with their comlink. "You have our words, commander," Eva smiled, as she and her sister dropped on their knees and placed their hands behind them. 

As the droids chained their hands together, Anakin slowly lifted the barb wires with the Force and allowed Ahsoka, Rex, Tori and the others to go through as quiet as a mouse. Tori raised her left hand as her men loaded their blasters and aimed at the droids, waiting for Lira's signal.  

The tactical droid ordered the twins to stand up after being cuffed from behind, poking them in the back. Lira closed her eyes and connected herself through the Force, igniting her lightsaber. It lifted by itself from the table and flew through the commander's head, giving it a clean cut on the neck.  

"Now!" Rex yelled, as his men fires at the droid army. Eva uncuffed herself with the Force and grabbed her lightsaber, deflecting their blaster fire. Sonic and Boom dashed towards the tank and shot down the pilots, taking control of it.  

Fives and Echo took over the other tanks and fired at the droid army, crushing them into pieces. Cowboy lassoed one of the droids by its neck and yanked it with great force, tossing towards the others.

"Yara, get in position," Bungee told her, as he took a few steps backwards. She gave a nod and kneel on one leg, spreading her palms together. "You ready?"

Bungee bobbed his head and ran, stepping on Yara's both palms. She threw him up in the air, watching him take down the Super Battle Droids with his blasters. "Yippee ki yay, you motherf******," he cried, landing on the ground. 

"Language," Tori scolded him, gesturing to Eva, Lira and Ahsoka. "We have kids here, Bungee."

Jesse and Hardcase cheered for him as they tackled a couple of droids with Steel taking them down with her fists. Anakin and Ahsoka stared at each other and nodded, as they sped towards the spider droid and sliced off its head with their lightsaber. Before it could blast towards the Republic army, Ahsoka jumped on it and stabbed its eye, deactivating them. "That was a close one," she sighed in relief, wiping her forehead.

The two tanks ran over the entire army while blasting them, clearing the way for Rex and Tori. "Eat that, you kriffing clankers," Fives laughed, as Echo looked at the periscope and take down as many droids as he can. "Oh, Hardcase is missing all the fun."

"Yeah, I agree," Echo answered. "I wonder what are the others up to?"

Tori jumped on the B1 and kicked its weapon out of his reach, shooting it. She turned around and noticed the Super Battle Droid pointed its blaster at her head, only to be shot down by Rex. "You alright there?" he gave his hands. Tori nodded and took his hands as she got up. "Thanks, Rexy."

"You're welcome, Princess. Now come on, we have to finish this mission."

She gave a nod as she and Rex leaned on each other's back and fired at the droids coming from left to right, leaving them into bits. As Minnie blasted the last ones, she exhaled and took off her helmet, scanning her surroundings for more enemies. Eva and Lira cheered and high-fived each other as Anakin's nose crinkled, his lips curved upwards. 

"I have to say, girls, that was awesome!"

"Any doubts it would fail?" Eva winked. Ahsoka tilted her head sideways, lifting her shoulders. "Kind of."

"Hey!" Lira gave a light punch on her shoulder. "So, what do we do now?" Rex asked. 

"Now, we rest," she told the captain. "Tomorrow, we'll be storming Point 3, with the tanks and the droids we've obtained."

"Sir, yes, sir," Tori saluted, as she followed the twins into the jungle.

[jfcjess]

there was a distinct chill that fell over the outskirts of the small town of stars hollow. ribbons of thick fog looped around pockets in the atmosphere, nearly kissing the ground. the dark, navy blue sky met with the distilled bright light of a full moon. in the dead of night, there was little of a whisper that caught wind of the surrounding buildings that had been built way before the man’s time. there jess mariano laid. resting — if one could even call it so — in the same position he started in. he was embraced by the soft and comforting touch of thin, ivory bed linens while the hours melted idly by. a heavy exhausted exhale slipped through tight borders, stubble lined lips pursing into a thin, expressionless line. silence was golden, some might say. in the confines of his trackless mind it was a recipe for aimless rumination. thankfully, an abridged whine of his ringtone scattered through the air like mist, awakening him fully to the sights and sounds of what he was about to press ACCEPT to. golden irises travelled to the screen of his cell phone, the name rory gilmore streaked across it. “rory?” he hushed out, his free palm rubbing the sleep out of the inner corners of his orbs. background noise was filled with an infant’s cries, immediately perking the man up while attempting to to decipher the desperation of his ex girlfriend’s tone.

she in fact needn’t say another word before the raven haired male understood the situation. “hey, hey no. don’t go apologizing. i’ll be there in twenty minutes,” he drifted, blurring himself as he plucked any pair of shoes he could find, shuffling through his half shelled closet to slip his leather jacket over his shoulders. trotting down the stairs, the man clutched his keys in one hand while jetting himself out the door. while jess wasn’t logan’s biggest fan, it felt wrong to express any sort of disparaging off the cuff insult at a time as this. though the thoughts never transpired into actual words, the most he could muster was as much support to rory as he could. finally pulling into the gilmore house driveway, jess pulsed a ring cladded rotund hand through his tussled mop of hair. emerging out of the vehicle and onto the front porch, a balled fist racked on the door, exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he was bottling up as a brisk cloud of air could be seen as evidence of his breath in the cold. awaiting with patience, both hands then stuck themselves into each pocket of his jeans, his weight shifting and rolling to the balls of his feet.

She couldn’t remember what sleep felt like. At this point, her eyes burned beyond belief. Lucas Huntzberger-Gilmore was two months old and a few things were evident: he hated sleeping and he didn’t like his mom. He loved everyone that held him: his grandma Lorelai, his grandpa Luke, his dad, Sookie, hell even Jess. He was a calm, collected, baby. Except when it came to her. Her mom had stayed over for awhile at first, but ultimately, Rory wanted to learn how to do things herself. What kind of mother would she be if she couldn’t take care of her own baby? Logan, well, Logan was a million miles away in London on a work thing. They weren’t together and honestly, maybe that was for the best. She knew how much he loved her. Yet, she couldn’t say the same thing about him. It was a more of ‘you’re the father of my baby and I’ll always love you, but not in that way.’ type of love. The person who she truly loved was someone who she wasn’t even sure she could have. Her and Jess had always had such a complicated relationship. The timing was never right. It was almost as if the universe knew they weren’t meant for each other. Especially right now when she just had a baby. Who would truly want to date someone with a baby? She could never ask that of anyone. However, Jess wasn’t just anyone. In the time of her struggles with Logan during her pregnancy, he had been a shoulder to lean on. Someone who knew her better than she could ever know herself. Except things were different. So, so different. 

3:33am. Baby Luke had officially been crying for a little over six hours. At this point, Rory didn’t even know what was wrong. He had fallen asleep every once in awhile, but only for a few minutes before he got upset again. If she didn’t know any better, she thought she’d be crying at any second. She was so exhausted. “I’m sorry, bubs. Mommy’s trying.” She cooed at the baby in her arms as she paced around the nursery. Her grandmother had told her she had a pushing gift for her. And of course nothing Emily Gilmore did was ever boring. So crazily enough, now Rory had her own house in Stars Hollow. The brunette let out a long sigh as she scrolled through her phone. She didn’t like admitting it very often, but she couldn’t do it on her own. Coming across Jess’ contact, she paused. She couldn’t call him to come over and help. This wasn’t his responsibility and yet… the woman still pressed the CALL button. “Please don’t pick up, please don’t pick up.” Rory mumbled as she waited. This was ridiculous. What was even she doing? This felt like such a  selfish act on her part, but right now Jess was the only person who could possibly make it any better. Then, there was a voice on the other line. “H-hey, Jess.” She couldn’t help but stumble on her words. “You’re were sleeping, weren’t you? I’m sorry… Just… Luke’s been crying for six hours and I-I can’t figure out what’s wrong and I just really need help.” 

[dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt]

Number 8 for June (writing prompt) please! 🤠💗

DREW I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOU NOW OWN MY FIRSTBORN CHILD :’D XD

The Convergence passed as it always did, in a show of friendliness and peace, smiles and politely shaken hands and toasts and enthused conversations, all underlined in tension. Most of those smiles were just a glorified baring of teeth. The handshakes broke apart as quickly as possible, one second away from having to wipe their palms clean on their clothes. People mingled, but took care not to so much as brush against one another. A festering cesspool if June had ever seen one.

Demons and angels mixed about as well as oil and water.

“December’s a minute shy of pissing himself,” June noted clinically.

Dante snorted, leaned back over the bar to grab another bottle. He hadn’t paid, but the mortal bartender took one look at June’s blank, icy black stare and decided not to comment. They wondered idly what things he had seen today for his face to be so pale.

“Poor guy,” Dante said, popping the cap off with a twist of his hand. “My money’s on Emala.”

“Nah, August’s been eyeing him like a cat with a baby bird, my bet’s- ah, look, there she goes.”

August parted the crowd easily, head held high as she stalked toward her brother. She seemed to have somehow convinced a stream of spring water to become her dress for the night, ribbons of the clearest blue rippling down her tall frame.

“Nice arms,” Dante commented. “Looks like she could snap him in half.”

June said, scornfully, “A stiff breeze could snap him in half. Look at him.”

“He’s like a puppy,” he agreed.

“August looks like she makes a living off of kicking puppies.”

“I don’t think she’s that cold.”

“Hm? Oh, yes, I was thinking about Mars.”

Dante cut them a sidelong look, but June ignored him. “Our puppy has been run off.”

August had been standing over Ben for a minute now - looming was probably a better word. They couldn’t make out what she was saying, but judging by the expression on Ben’s face, it wasn’t exactly a warm welcome. To his credit he didn’t shrink away as much as June had expected him to. He had some semblance of a spine, then. Apparently not enough to stay, though, since he rose from his seat with downcast eyes and quickly slipped away through the crowd, heading for the exit. The crowd parted for him as they had August, but less out of respect, and more with curled lips and expressions of unveiled disgust and hatred.

“I love these meetings,” June said, voice dripping with high-pitched faux enthusiasm. “They’re not at all the biggest fucking waste of my time.”

“I don’t know,” Dante replied. “I’m having fun.”

He was still looking at August, wasn’t he.

June threw him a look.

Of course he was.

“If you’re going to try and jump her bones, hurry it up,” June snapped. “And don’t come to me with your tail between your legs when she impales you.”

“I wouldn’t mind being impaled,” he said. A little wonderingly.

June made a disgusted noise in their throat. “Of course not. You know what, I’m demoting you.”

“Really.” He turned his eyes back to them, finally. They were extremely unimpressed.

“Yeah, and hazard a guess who I’m putting in your place.” They paused. “Vrox.”

Dante laughed. “Right. Sure you are. I can see that happening. Definitely.”

“Until you can get over your pretty birdy, you’re useless to me.”

“Okay, boss,” he said with deep affection, and reached over to ruffle up their hair.

They hissed at him, jagged teeth bared. He promptly ignored them.

“You’d be better off with Jesse, you know that, right? You need somebody to counter all of… this.” He gestured to them.

“All of what, exactly?”

He looked at them. Aforementioned jagged teeth. Dangerously gleamed eyes. Clawlike nails digging into the bartop and pulping up the hard, polished wood around them. He pursed his lips. “Nothing.”

“Exactly what I thought.” They took his own bottle out of his hands and took a swig, immediately regretting the impulsive show of dominance. They hated beer. Fucking hated it. Why had they done that? They didn’t let the disgust show on their face, though.

Somehow, he still knew. He always knew.

He took the bottle back with a pat to their hand. “You hate beer.”

“Yes,” they said through stiff lips.

He laughed, that laugh that came from somewhere deep in his chest. They envied him, sometimes, envied that he could laugh and make it genuine, without thinking of how he could possibly turn it into a weapon.

“You are something else, boss. I never know what to expect with you.”

“Yes, you do,” they answered automatically. Fuck, he raised his eyebrows at them. “Oh, be serious. You know me better than anyone. Don’t play dumb.”

“I’m not playing dumb,” he said, and his tone was softer, made their skin crawl uncomfortably. “You’ve… I’ve never heard you say anything like that before.”

“Anything like what?”

“Nice.” And he sounded so dumbfounded by that that they couldn’t help it. Their lips twitched up at the corners.

“Wait, wait, wait, hold up. Did I just see you smile? Did you just smile?!”

“No, absolutely not.” June straightened their waistcoat, face once again set in a scowl. “I’m allergic to joy. It gives me hives.”

“Right, right, I believe you, boss.” His grin spoke differently, as did the fact he pulled them into a rough one-armed hug and rubbed his knuckles into their hair.

They were allergic to affection, too.

please send me OC prompts please!

[jay-christine91]

Afraid

“What are you afraid of?”

McCree remembered the first time he was asked that with a purpose. Standing before the leader of Deadlock, right eye slowly swelling shut. Besides a few bruises and a cut to his abdomen that would definitely scar, McCree had faired well. The five men in a crumpled heap before him had not. Fear? He thrived on it like a junkie because what else was there to lose? His mother was dead. His sister was murdered. His father was no more than a name. At thirteen McCree understood the cruel lesson that life was far from fair. Afraid?

“Ain’t nothing m’really afraid of ‘sides death Boss.”

His new leader smiled, yellow, with one missing tooth. “Good answer.”

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

“If you’re afraid of jail than I have a proposition for you.”

McCree scoffed as he stared at the Blackwatch commander. The man had a scowl that seemed to be permanently etched into his features. Was he afraid of jail? Honestly, no. It beat kicking it around on the dirt floors of run down safe houses. He could surely turn a trick or two, but McCree wasn’t a stranger to unwelcome hands either. You did what you had to in order to survive and Deadlock made it known that you were nothing more than a cog in their plans. Being caught and imprisoned was the risk they all took, so it seemed pretty foolish to fear a inevitable possibility.

“Can’t say the slammer shakes me all that much, but what do ya got in mind there Jefe?”

The commander, Reyes, as McCree heard bellowed more than once in the stern leaders direction, smiled. Right answer again.

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

“Are you afraid to lose anyone McCree?”

Genji Shimada asked him this just two months before the Swiss base exploded, taking with it what the cowboy had come to consider family. The cyborg was McCree’s closest friend,even if he wasn’t always the most friendly. Through their time together, Genji had told him about his life before and of what lead to his current state. McCree figured it gave him a lot to be spiteful about. Maybe that’s why the question caught him off guard. McCree was already twenty eight, and although he gained a home fighting between the ranks of Blackwatch and Overwatch alike, he knew loss. His mentor, Ana, went missing in action just a few weeks prior. The safety McCree found in Reyes, had all but faded as he watched the commander slowly cave into a darkness no one could reach. When Genji had explained his reasonings for wanting to leave, the gunslinger couldn’t even bring himself to stop him. How could he? Nothing in this world was permanent.

“Nothing, and no one, is forever G.”

Genji searched his face for a deeper meaning but dropped it. Maybe it wasn’t the answer he wanted, but it was the only one McCree had.

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

“Where is he?! What happened?!!” McCree demanded, barging through the med bay doors. Lúcio stood up quickly to try and help keep the gunslinger back, but calm.

“Listen man, Ange has him.” The audio medic said in an effort to soothe the tension but McCree wanted none of it, especially when Genji stood as well, holding a blood soaked ribbon.

“G...what happened?!” McCree asked again, trying to not falter at the sight of the crimson stained item in the cyborgs hands.

When Genji‘s face met his own, the fear was easy to read. Without his usual faceplate, the ninjas emotions stood firmly on display. Granted Jesse always had a way of knowing what his friend felt even behind the mask. It made seeing the raw worry in those eyes even harder to take.

“It was a sniper. Talon converged on us quickly and we thought everyone had been taken care of when we spotted her. S-she struck first before Hanzo could fire his arrow. It hit his chest and...it is uncertain how he will fair.”

McCree’s heart clenched, looking behind the ninja to the surgical doors, a red light glowing above. Fear was an emotion he knew well, no matter how he acted, because losing someone was too common a play in the cowboys life.

A cool hand touched his shoulder and McCree met the eyes of his friend once more. “Do not be afraid. Hanzo is strong.”

“Are you saying that for me or fer you?”

Genji smirked sadly. “Does it matter?”

McCree looked at those doors again, trying to swallow the dryness in his throat. “N-no I s’pose not.”

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

It was quiet in the med bay. Three days had passed since Hanzo Shimada’s surgery and life at the base seemed hallow. Angela looked worse for wear when she emerged from the doors after the initial ordeal but the outlook was promising. The bullet had spared the archers heart, and even though it had been touch and go, she expected him to make a full recovery. Everyone felt themselves breathe a collective sigh of relief.

But the days had passed and Hanzo had yet to regain consciousness. McCree knew that it could take time but the waiting ate away at him. The sleep he rarely got, became next to nothing as the hours were waited in silence. The cowboy could only bring himself to leave the medical bay in order to use the bathrooms, or smoke, before he quickly returned to his place beside Hanzo’s bed.

The chime of the clock announced midnight as the McCree sank further into his chair, one hand interlocked with the archers own. Genji had left to try and meditate with Zenyatta, the weight of his brothers recovery bringing back unpleasant memories. The rest of the team had popped in here or there, but the gunslinger knew it was more to check on him and not Hanzo. They kept reassuring him, like a child who needed comfort during a storm and it made McCree twitch.

He knew fear. He understood pain. He accepted loss. But this...

“P-please wake up...please.” McCree whispered, cupping Hanzo’s hand between both of his own. He hadn’t expected to fall for the eldest Shimada,let alone to have those feelings returned, but somehow it had worked out. Their mutual sufferings and misgivings were hurdles often faced but they never left each other angry. Before they knew it, the love between them had grown into something unexpected; a safe place to just be. To just love.

Maybe that was why the tears stung so badly at McCree’s eyes. He was no stranger to any of this but the thought was unbearable.

“I-I ain’t afraid of much. I have lost my family time and time again but Han...” McCree paused, tenderly kissing the archers hand, his eyes roaming to take in his lover before him. Hanzo’s hair was down, fanned out to the one side. The surgery left his chest bandaged, dragons peeking out beneath white cloth. He looked pale and yet still beautiful.

“Baby ya gotta wake up fer me okay? I can’t lose you too. I’ve lost so damn much in my life but God dammit! D-don’t join them...please..”

The tears spilled forth, hitting the sheets with gentle plops as McCree rested his forehead against the clasped hands. McCree remembered the days he feared someone filling the space beside Hanzo who wasn’t him. How wary the gunslinger was of Hanzo’s reaction when admitting his feelings or the first time they made love. No one and nothing was promised, especially in their line of work, but was it wrong to hope? Was it wrong to embrace the best damn thing he’d ever known?

McCree tried to inhale, but startled as he felt a hand slowly ruffle through his hair. His gaze traveled upward to greet Hanzo’s own tired, but kind expression. The hand at McCree’s head traveled to wipe away the fallen tears.

“Hello Jesse...” Hanzo whispered hoarsely. The tears fell even harder as McCree kissed the archers hand again and again, pausing only to press it against his cheek as the sobs slipped past.

“H-Han..dammit...thank God yer awake. I-I was so scared. Don’t do that to me! Don’t leave me...don’t go where I can’t follow...I-I love you...” McCree babbled. Hanzo smirked warmly as his free hand continued to card through the gunslingers hair.

“And I love you, you silly cowboy. I would not leave you so easily.” Hanzo chuckled, leaning just enough to press a chaste kiss against the mans forehead. “Besides, we have many promises to fulfill.”

McCree nodded, leaning in to kiss the archer gently; soft but desperate. As they broke, Hanzo’s hands rested on each side of the gunslingers face, smiling with endearment.

“Do not be afraid Jesse. Our love is surely stronger than any bullet.”

McCree just continued to cry with Hanzo soothing the weeping cowboy between sobs. Eventually he moved over, inviting Jesse to lay beside him, whispering gentle endearments until the tears faded.

And that was where Angela found them in the morning, wrapped up close around each other. A warm smile played on her face as she covered them both with another blanket.

McCree slept, holding fast to what he feared most. Jesse McCree was no stranger to loss. His goodbyes were overused more than he liked and even death became something he welcomed more often than not. But life had given him something. Something that gave him equal happiness and fear.

Life had given him real love and McCree prayed that he would never lose it.

[hazzasgayvodka]

8 * ROCK THE CASBAH * 8

Impact: Chapter 8

Chapter title song: Rock the Casbah - The Clash 

JESS

I wake up incredibly late due to it being Wednesday, my day off from classes. I roll over expecting to see Harry beside me, but his side of the bed is already empty. I look down to see a burgundy blanket draped across me that I definitely didn't place there myself. I shove off the comforter and drag myself out of bed, stopping at his mirror only to grab a small yellow sticky note that wasn't there when I went to bed.

Morning dollface,

I'm working at the shop today, try not to die of boredom without me

I shake my head and stick it back to the mirror, trudging out of his room and into the living room where both Niall and Louis are stood on chairs, hanging up blue and red ribbons.

"What's going on out here?" I ask as I pour myself yet another bowl of cocoa pebbles.

"It's Ryland's birthday and we're throwing him a surprise party." Louis explains, ripping a piece of tape with his teeth.

I look over at Niall to see him looking equally as excited. When I open the fridge to grab the milk I see that it's stocked full of real food rather than the countless boxes of takeout and the occasional apple.

"Actual groceries too?" I tease, "It's a miracle."

"Yeah, Harry went this morning before work." Niall nods, struggling to adequately secure the disco ball to the ceiling fan.

I shake my head just as Sam appears around the corner, already fully dressed with her hair tied up in a bandana.

"Morning sleepyhead," She laughs, "I've never seen you sleep that long in your life."

I shrug, glancing at the clock to see it already reading one o'clock. I finish my bowl of cocoa pebbles and briefly listen to Niall and Louis's recounting of the day's plans before Ryland's birthday party. Apparently, they've put a lot of thought into it.

"Oh, Harry also wanted me to tell you good luck on your job interview." Niall smiles, reading over the list of alcohol they need to buy one last time.

As soon as the words come out of his mouth I can't breathe, that's what today is, that's why I didn't make any plans for my day off, I have an interview with one of the biggest publishing corporations in the country.

"Oh my god! My interview! I totally forgot!" I screech, tossing my bowl into the sink and running back to Harry's room.

I shut the door behind me and start tearing through my suitcase to find my good bra to go under one of the many dresses hanging in Harry's closet. The door opens and I brace myself for one of the boys, holding a shirt over my undressed self.

"It's just me." Sam laughs, shutting the door behind her and collapsing onto Harry's unmade bed.

I huff out a sigh in exasperation as I shuffle through my suitcase, grabbing my black heels and my makeup bag and tossing them onto his bed. I wobbly stand up and shuffle to the closet, flipping through the three dresses I brought, each of them stupidly similar to each other.

"Fuck, I should have brought the red one, it's okay I'll just swing by the dorm and-"

"Jess, calm down," Sam sighs, cutting me off and standing from the bed to grab me by the shoulders, "it doesn't matter what you dress you wear, you're totally going to smash this interview out of the park."

"But what if I don't? What if I just keep working at that shitty flower shop for the rest of my life where Harry has free reign to come in and be his fucking annoying self every goddamn day."

She pulls away from me with wide eyes and a smirk on her lips. I want to shout at her and ask her what the hell is so funny right now when I'm running so late for this interview.

"So, this is about him." She sighs and I finally allow myself to sit back on his bed, "Well it sure seems his potty mouth might be rubbing off on you a bit, Jessy," She laughs, desperately trying to lighten the mood but I stay somber, letting myself fall back into the mattress and rub my eyes with the backs of my hands.

She collapses next to me with a purple flouncy blouse and the black pencil skirt in hand, looking them over before proudly laying them out for me to wear. She turns to me and I just barely peak at her through my hands covering my eyes.

"Oh, come on Jess, who is this girl bumming around because of a stupid boy? He's an idiot sweetheart, I promise, don't waste your time letting him get under your skin, babe." She says profoundly, shaking my shoulders to really get the message across.

I finally pull myself into a sitting position, my head still hung low but feeling better nonetheless. She slings her arm around my shoulder, gesturing to the amazing outfit she's put together and I can't help but finally break into a smile.

"There she is!" She laughs, "You're Jess fucking Lawson! A total fucking babe! Who cares about crazy stupid boys? You have an interview for an internship with one of the biggest names in publishing! You've got it in the bag girl!" She shouts, jostling me about until I'm laughing with her and finally standing from my bed with my head on straight.

"Thanks, Sam." I smile, taking the adorable outfit from her and moving towards the bathroom.

I wish I could just take her with me as I get ready for what could be the first step at any chance of me ever having an amazing job in publishing. I could take on this entire world with Sam beside me being the personal cheerleader she always has been. But sadly, I don't get that luxury, instead I get to take on this world by myself and this interview is the first step.

HARRY

I pull up in front of the big glass building with the overwhelming want to be anywhere else but walking up those stupid steps. As soon as I throw open the door and walk inside, every muscle in my body gets tighter. Just being here puts me on edge. I pass the front desk to clock in and of course the wandering eyes of resident secretary, Tabitha, follow me wherever I go.

"Afternoon, Mr. Styles." She smiles, leaning on her elbow against her desk.

I give her a swift nod, shoving my card back into my slot before walking towards the elevators and hoping there's one there waiting so I don't have to endure small talk with her. Instead of an elevator dinging right away and rescuing me, the voice of none other than Lex echoes across the lobby.

"Harry? Is that you?" He asks, jogging up next to me.

I turn to look at him with rolling eyes as I pull my suit jacket up on my shoulders. He eyes me with surprise, surely shocked that I've come in more than twice this week already.

"You're coming in again?" He asks shockingly.

"You did ask me to make an appearance at least twice a week, so yeah, I'm here." I huff just as the elevator dings and I slip inside quickly hoping he doesn't follow me.

"I know I asked I just didn't think you'd actually...do it." He wonders aloud, of course following me into the empty elevator and causing me to outwardly sigh.

"Well I did, let's not ruin it, alright, Lex?" I say curtly, pressing the button for the tenth floor and hoping this elevator ride moves quickly.

"Lex? No, Uncle Lex, anymore? You too old for that now?" He chuckles, leaning against the wall of the elevator behind him.

"I'm twenty four years old, and we're business partners, do you really want me walking around the office calling you Uncle Lex?" I quip, resisting every urge to roll my eyes.

"Well, no, I guess not." He shrugs, his damn near perfect, fake smile never faltering.

Finally, the elevator comes to a stop and the doors peel open, releasing me from this personal hell where I can lock myself in my office and edit for the next two hours. Lex calls my name once again, something about new employee interviews and how he needs help with them, but I just keep walking. Soon enough I'm standing in my office, looking at my lovely view of the roof of the building next door, cracking a window and lighting a cigarette.

I take a seat in my chair, resting my cigarette in my ash tray and propping my feet up on the desk. The stack of manuscripts staring at me from my file cabinet has me swallowing hard knowing that it's far too many to get through only coming in twice a week. I would just take it home but there's nowhere in my house that she's not. The desk in my room is covered with bottles of makeup and lip gloss; the living room coffee table littered with textbooks and pages upon pages of notes.

By the time I finish my first full manuscript of the day I've smoked through three cigarettes and chewed the ends of two pens to bits. My shoes and suit jacket are strewn to the floor, the top four buttons of my shirt now unbuttoned too. I see the reflection of my face in my computer screen, a disheveled mess of hair and lines between my eyebrows from straining my eyes to read the tiny print due to refusing to ever wear my glasses.

I stand from my desk, shoving my feet back into my shoes and rubbing my eyes with the backs of my hands. Looking out the window I realize how dark it's gotten in just the time I've been here. I reach for the lamp on my desk and flip it on, illuminating my now cave-like office. I need to get out of here for a bit.

I shove open my door and escape my prison, heading towards the break room hoping that no one else is there and I can simply grab a bottle of water in peace. Before I can get there, Lex's voice comes booming from the elevators followed by his famous hyena laugh. But it's not until I hear the voice of the person he's speaking to that I become interested.

As soon as I round the corner I see her, a ruffled blouse and tight black skirt adorning her body. Her hair is pulled up into a bun and there's shiny black heels on her feet. She's standing up impossibly straight as Lex tells her one of his hilarious stories I'm sure and she laughs perfectly on cue every time. I realize I don't want her to see me here and suddenly reality is crashing on me and I'm jumping back around the corner and only peaking around the side to catch a glimpse of her ass in that skirt.

"Who are we spying on?" Audrie's voice behind me asks, causing me to jump about two feet in the air.

I turn around with a murderous glare but she only laughs, leaning around the corner herself to get a glance at whatever I was looking at. She shoves me out of the way, straining to listen to the conversation just as I was.

"Oh, it's a girl, shocker," She says uninterestingly, "can't believe I thought a Styles man would be looking at anything else."

She rolls her eyes easily as she walks away, seemingly disinterested with the exchange now that she's seen just what I was spying on. I grab her arm as she turns away and tug her back to me.

"What is she doing here? What do you know?" I ask in a hushed voice hoping her and Lex can't hear me.

"What? She applied for an entry level position," She shrugs, "why do you care?"

"I um," I start, turning back to glance at her still talking to Lex, "I don't."

"Maybe she'll take over my old job." Audrie laughs.

"What? No, definitely not, not her, I don't even need a fucking assistant." I huff, shoving Audrie out of the way of my viewing area.

"Oh whatever, what would you do without me? I'm the only person that keeps you sane in this office, Harry," She quips, smacking me in the arm, "despite you only being here like maybe once a week."

I shush her immediately, shoving her away and hoping to god, Lex doesn't hear us. She can't work here, I already have a hard enough time keeping my secret job from Louis and Ryland, if she finds out, everything will fall to shit. Before I can lean over to catch another glimpse of her, Audrie is shoving me out into the middle of the hallway, in clear view. I glare at her, pushing her out of my way so I can go back to my office and pretend none of this happened.

"Oh my gosh, hey, Harry, what are you doing here?" She shouts obnoxiously, immediately grabbing Jess and Lex's attention.

As soon as her eyes land on me, she goes stone cold. I can tell that she's already in denial in her head, already unable to believe, like me, that our wires have been crossed again.

"Oh, Harry!" Lex smiles brightly, gesturing for me to walk over and introduce myself, "This is Jess, our new intern. Jess, this is Harry."  

She looks at me with daggers for eyes as she takes my hand in hers and gives it a shake. She's trying to read the situation, asking me a million questions with her eyes. I'm sure she's wondering how I could possibly work here since I'm such a horrible and volatile person.  

"I'm glad you two have met already because I was thinking that Jess could fill Audrie's position as she's moving up to marketing." Lex says, turning my greatest nightmare into a reality.

"Audrie's position?" She asks, still optimistic as she turns to Lex asking what that means.

"Harry's assistant," He explains, "he's the chief editor here and therefore needs just a little bit of help when he's not totally cooped up in his office all day."

Lex cracks up at his previous comment but Jess is stone cold, her perfectly timed laughs now forgotten as she realizes what she actually just signed up for. She turns to me with narrowed eyes and I can already hear her annoyed voice, 'Chief editor? How? I bet you don't know the first thing about editing, Harry.' When I realize that she's just as discouraged as I am by the arrangement, I finally grasp the fact that I have the upper hand.

Jess Lawson as my assistant; having to do whatever I ask no matter how annoying or ludicrous, the constant ability to piss her off and make her snap in all the right ways. Every day a perfect view of her in a tight skirt and heels. Suddenly the idea sounds miraculous.

"Wonderful, I can't wait." I smile, sending her a wink to which she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms.

"I'm glad to hear it!" Lex smiles, clearly not recognizing the tension ever-present in the air, "I have a meeting to attend but I will see you tomorrow, Jess. Have a good night."

With that he waves goodbye and turns towards the conference rooms with his manila folder under his arm. Jess leans forward and presses the button for the elevator without daring to look up at me or say a word.

"Jess," I say, grabbing her arm but she rips it from my grasp, "come on, we need to talk."

"I'm sure we can do that later since every aspect of my life seems to revolve around you lately!" She huffs, running a hand through the few small pieces of hair that have fallen from her bun.

I grab her arm and tug her towards me to which she rolls her eyes and mumbles about me not touching her ever again. I drag her to my office and close the door behind us, turning to face her angry eyes.

"You can't tell anyone about this." I say carefully, releasing her from my grip.

She turns her face up at me, folding her arms over her chest and narrowing her eyes as she tries to understand.

"I um, no one knows that I work here." I say gingerly, not meeting her eyes.

"Why?" She asks simply but it comes out sounding interrogative.

"Well, I'm not sure how they'd take it, it's not really who I am." I shrug.

"Oh yes, how could I forget? You couldn't possibly ruin your reputation as a tattooed asshole who thinks he's a badass." She huffs, shoving past me to get to the door.

I grab her at the last second and stand between her and the door. She groans, shoving at me and reaching for the door knob but I put my hand over hers to stop her.

"I'm serious Jess, please, this has to stay between us."

Her face relaxes, and her eyes finally meet mine, warm and brown despite her cold demeanor towards me. Her hand releases the door knob and I let out a breath of relief.

"Fine," She breathes, "but if I'm agreeing to this, you're agreeing to some things too."

I nod, shoving my hands in my pockets and awaiting the onslaught of demands sure to come out of her mouth any second.

"You need to be nice," She starts, and I laugh at her stupid introductory, "I'm serious, Harry! To Jace and Miles, you're so rude to both of them."

I nod my head, sealing my fate to be nice to both of those sons of bitches. Jace is just a tank with a temper, I can keep myself in check, but Miles has a lot more riding on his ass. I have hundreds of reasons to kick that kid's ass.

"And I think both of us just need to set aside our differences and chill out. We said we were going to be friends but here we are yelling at each other again." She sighs, her head falling on her shoulders.

"You're right." I breathe, collapsing into my desk chair.

She looks up from the ground to meet my eyes as I prop my feet back up on my desk as I always do. She rolls her eyes and sits in the chair on the other side, doing the same.

"You've really taken to decorating in here." She laughs sarcastically, eyeing the barren walls all around us.

"Yeah, I mean, I only come in a few times a week and all I do is sit here and read books." I shrug, gesturing to my messy desk and open manuscript.

"Well, I guess I should let you get back to it." She shrugs, standing from her chair all too soon.

She waves as she walks back out the door, her hips still looking great as ever in that skirt. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and turn back to my desk, regretfully opening the next manuscript and getting to reading.

JESS

I walk back in the door of Harry's apartment with Sam by my side, both of us shivering as we collapse on the couch and turn on the TV.

"Thanks for picking me up," I smile, "and dropping me off for that matter."

"It's what friends are for." She grins, hugging me for warmth as she grabs blankets for both of us from the recliner.

"Did I hear some girls come in?" Louis asks, flopping on top of both of us.

We both squeal and attempt to shove him off of us, to which we succeed, making him land flat on the carpet and groaning. Sam falls on top of him on the floor, still giggling as she kisses his cheeks and finally locks her lips to his.

"Hey! PDA!" Niall shouts as he appears around the corner from his bedroom.

He collapses on the couch next to me too and tugs some of the blanket away from me, which I protest against. He sighs heavily, looking around at all the decorations littering the walls as well as the balloons floating around the room.

"We did good, buddy." He smiles, turning to Louis who's now sat with his arm around Sam.

"Hell yeah we did!" Louis shouts, "This party is gonna rock!"

"What time did you tell everyone to get here?" Niall asks, turning to Louis who's already back to making out with Sam.

"Around seven." He mumbles, barely pulling away from Sam.

Niall shakes his head, eyeing the clock on the wall behind us to see what time it is. When he looks to see it's only two hours till seven he jumps up from the couch excitedly.

"I'm gonna go hop in the shower because we have to leave at six to go get Ryland!" He grins, running to his bathroom at the back of the apartment.

I shake my head and get up from the couch, making my way to Harry's room and just wishing I had somewhere to go that was actually mine. God, I miss my dorm.

"Where are you going, Jess?" Sam asks, turning to look at me over the back of the couch, "Are you getting ready too?"

"I don't think I'll be attending tonight, I'll just go to the library or something." I shrug.

"What? No!" She shouts, stumbling up from the couch to meet me in the hall, "You have to be here! It's going to be great! They bought decorations and everything, Jess."

I look over to see Louis also sitting up on the couch awaiting my reply. I hate when Sam guilt trips me like this but funnily enough it always works.

"It is going to be fun," Louis shrugs, "why don't you just go with us to get Ryland and hang out for the first hour, if you're not having fun then leave and you won't hurt our feelings, promise."

I laugh at his compromise and nod my head, reluctantly agreeing. Sam squeals, jostling me about as she shoves me into Harry's room to get dressed in time to go get Ryland.

After loading a blind folded Ryland into the car was a much harder task than anticipated, I'm glad when I can see the apartment come into view. Cars are parked all down the side of the street and laser lights pour out of the windows along with the faded pumping of music inside the walls thanks to Niall staying behind to finish setting up.

"Where are we? What is that noise?" Ryland asks, nearly smacking his head into the roof of the car as he stands up outside.

"Just wait, you're gonna love it bro." Louis assures him, grabbing him by the shoulders and walking him up the driveway.

As we reach the door, I can see Niall inside getting everyone ready to yell surprise as soon as Sam rips off the blindfold. Despite most of the partygoers being extremely intoxicated, a good bit of them comply and shout an eardrum shattering "surprise!" as Sam removes the blindfold.

"Oh my god! Yes! Thank you guys!" Ryland shouts, instantly grabbing Louis for a hug and being offered a large shot from one of his other friends.

I find myself alone all too fast. I look around but spot no familiar faces other than my obvious friends who happen to be working hard and fast at getting Ryland absolutely smashed drunk in the next hour.

"Jess! Come on! Your turn!" Niall shouts from the kitchen, gesturing for me to come and take a shot.

"No way, Niall!" I laugh, "I didn't agree to come to get falling down drunk."

He rolls his eyes, taking the vodka bottle from Louis's hands and taking a huge gulp, gritting his jaw as he swallows it down. A loud bit of shouting comes from all around the house egging him on and he goes for another one as soon as he's downed the first.

I end up taking a seat on the striped couch and I try not to think of how many barely-clothed bodies have inhabited this sofa tonight. Once I've been sitting on the couch unmoving and only observing for about half an hour I realize I've made quite the mistake agreeing to this.

"Jess? What are you doing? Come on! You're supposed to be having fun with us!" Sam shouts, grabbing at my hands to drag me off the couch.

"I don't know, Sam, I might just walk to the library or something-"

"What? No! No you will not!" She shrieks, slinging her arm around my shoulders and walking me to the kitchen, "Niall! Get this girl a shot of tequila, stat!"

He's laughing as he grabs a plastic shot glass and pours a nearly overflowing shot of tequila and slides it towards me on the counter. He pours another for himself and holds it up offering for us to cheers before we take our shots.

"Hey now, there better not be any shot taking without the birthday boy!" Ryland's voice calls as he runs into the kitchen, grabbing the shot glass from Niall's hand, "I wasn't expecting to see you here tonight, babe."

I realize he's talking to me when his eyes meet mine from over the rim of his shot glass as he readies himself to take it.

"I wasn't expecting to be here I promise you." I laugh, reaching my pathetic plastic shot glass to his and bumping them together.

We meet eyes again before throwing our heads back and letting the liquid burn down our throats. I squint my eyes as I put the shot glass back on the counter, momentarily forgetting how horrible bottom shelf tequila tastes.

He smiles as he meets my eyes again and leans against the counter behind him. His eyes are wildly light, a mix of blue and green that's so pale I don't know how he goes in the sun without burning them. They're striking in contrast to his jet black, shaggy hair.

"Are you feeling like staying a little longer?" He smirks.

"Pour me another shot and I'll let you know."

HARRY

As soon as I pull up in front of the apartment I'm rolling my eyes when I can barely park in my own garage thanks to the influx of cars parked in every fucking direction on the grass. What the fuck is going on and why did nobody ask me? I enter the house through the garage to a blast of screaming loud music and the unmistakable scent of marijuana.

Just as I'm entering the living room with careful steps, my eyes meet Louis's across the room. In seconds he's beside me, slinging his arm around my shoulders and leading me to the kitchen with a beer in his free hand.

"I can't believe you're just getting here! You have so much catching up to do come on!" He slurs, dragging me along with him.

"What the fuck is going on here?" I shout, shoving his hand off me and standing apart from him.

His eyes are a bit wider as he stands back, trying to comprehend what's wrong with me but he's too wasted to be able to tell.

"What? It's Ryland's birthday, we told you we were doing this." He says confusedly.

"No, you definitely did not because I would have told you no!" I huff, running my hands through my hair.

I look around at the countless girls throughout the room and suddenly I remember her, she's here, where is she? Hopefully she's in my room staying away from Ryland and all of his deadbeat friends blazing up my whole fucking house like one goddamn hotbox.

As I glance towards the kitchen my eyes land on her. I'm beside her in seconds, butting my way into a conversation I was anything but invited to. Her eyes are beyond bloodshot, her pupils swimming as she turns her head to look at me, her expression instantly becoming sour. Ryland is laughing, sat at my kitchen table and shoving drinks at her.

"What the hell are you doing? Can't you see she's already wasted?" I shout, shoving him in his seat and pushing the bottle of tequila away from her.

He stands from his seat right away, his lifeless eyes meeting mine as he challenges me to fuck up his night he was planning. I already know he was betting on getting Jess drunk and trying to take her to bed.

"We're just having some fun, Harry, she said she wanted another." He slurs, pointing a crooked finger in my direction.

"Yeah, another," I huff, "singular, Ryland, not another ten."

He rolls his eyes, telling me I'm too wound up about this and if I would just mellow out he would even share her with me. The words make me sick to my stomach. Any other night of the week I'd have no problem helping him. Why the hell do I even care? Something about the way she's swaying just standing there makes me nauseous. How could he think this was okay?

"Hey, Jess, come on, let's get you some water." I say, wrapping my arm around her and grabbing her a bottle of water out of the fridge.

"I'm-I said I'm fine, Harry." She slurs, her voice slowly coming back to itself.

"You are most definitely not fine, dollface," I laugh, letting her lean herself against the counter as I pass her the water, "now drink up."

She continues complaining but complies with my request and chugs down half the bottle of water in a few gulps. I'm surprised when she looks back up to meet my eyes to see hers significantly less glassed over and more alert.

"You feel okay?" I ask her cautiously.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I hold my liquor, Styles," She smirks, taking another sip of the water and I decide she must be doing pretty good to already be back to snapping at me, "I didn't even want to come to this stupid party."

"Then why did you? You could have gone somewhere." I say, leaning on the counter next to her.

"Peer pressure, Styles. College is a bitch." She says, her voice still slurring.

I laugh, gesturing for her to drink more of the water in the bottle and she sighs as she takes another sip, eyeing me the whole time.

"You want to get out of here?" I ask suddenly, the words coming out of my mouth before I can process them.

She looks at me in surprise, lowering the water bottle from her lips and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Yeah, I mean, where do you want to-"

"Finish that water and then fill it up again, I'll be back in like two minutes," I say quickly, gesturing to the fridge tap, "I'm serious, Jess."

She nods her head despite rolling her eyes as she finishes the last few sips of water in the bottle before moving over to the tap and filling it back up, flicking me off with her free hand.

I shake my head at her, laughing as I walk to my bedroom to grab her a jacket. I throw it over my shoulder along with a pair of boots from her suitcase and walk back out into the party. As soon as I turn around from closing my door behind me, Ashlyn is in front of my face with heavily hooded eyes already grabbing at my tshirt.

"Ashlyn, fuck off would you? I'm not in the fucking mood," I groan, shoving her off me and continuing in my path back to the kitchen, "I've got to drive Jess somewhere."

"Are you joking? You're blowing me off for that little bitch?" She asks, her voice malicious as she grabs me again and pulls me back to her.

"Don't talk about her like that, she's drunk and she's not staying around here any longer," I huff, removing her hands from my shoulders and gesturing for her to get out of my way, "I'll be back later."

She speaks up to protest once again but when I hear her voice sounding from the kitchen I'm pushing Ashlyn out of my way completely and bounding around the counter to find her.

"I said get off of me you fucking creep!" She shrieks.

It takes me a second to believe the sight I'm seeing. Ryland has Jess' wrist in one hand, his other arm wrapped around her waist as he leans over to talk in her ear. She's shoving at him and stomping at his foot to get him off, but he doesn't let up. As soon as the scene plays out in front of me I'm shoving Ryland up against the wall by the collar of his tshirt. He's choking instantly, the fabric brandished too tight against his throat to breathe. My vision is red as I picture him grabbing her wrist in one hand and her ass in the other, cornering her against a counter.

"Harry-" He gasps, "What the fuck man? Let me go!"

"Who the fuck do you think you are, Ryland? She said to get off!" I shout in his face, my jaw pulled tight as I spit the words in his face and send my fist at his nose.

Niall's behind me in seconds, grabbing me by the shoulders and yanking me off of Ryland who's now gushing blood down his face. He asks me if I'm okay about a hundred times, but I don't hear him, I don't take my eyes off Ryland as he reaches his tshirt to his nose, holding it to stop the blood and sends me a glare.

"Dude, what the fuck are you doing? Come on, let's get you some air-"

"Shut up, Niall." I sigh, shoving past him so I can get to her.  

She looks at me with terrified eyes, her entire demeanor completely sober as she stares at me in shock of the events that just took place. I hold my hand out to her and she takes it carefully, her worried eyes never leaving mine as I lead her to the front door, so we can get the fuck out of here.

I slam the door behind me and she's shivering as soon as we're outside in the cold, autumn air. I can tell she's afraid to speak after what's happened. I never meant to let it get out of hand like that. As soon as I saw him with his hands on her I wanted to shove him through the window.

"Are you okay?" I speak up eventually.

"Yeah," She sighs, her breath coming out like she was holding it in, "yeah, I'm okay, thank you for um, that back there."

She averts her eyes from me as we stand in silence, both of us pretending we're looking at the streetlights when we just want to look at each other.

"Dammit, I forgot your shoes and your jacket, I dropped them in the kitchen." I sigh, walking back to the door but she grabs my arm, stopping me.

"It's fine Harry, it's not even that cold." She assures me despite her wobbling legs.

I laugh and shrug my jacket off my shoulders, handing it to her instead. She doesn't even protest this time, shoving her arms through the sleeves and tugging it close around her. I barely trust myself to speak as I swallow thickly, I've never had the air knocked out of me over a girl before but damn, Jess standing here in my jacket is the closest I've come.

"Hey, can you grab my cigarettes out of the pocket." I nod, gesturing to the jean jacket around her shoulders.

Instantly she's digging around in the pockets, determinedly looking for the paper carton. She produces the pack and takes one out, offering it to me and I lean down, taking it from her with my teeth. She laughs as I lean forward awaiting her to light it.

As soon as I inhale I feel calmer, the buzzing nerves and cells of my body full of adrenaline from shoving Ryland against the wall finally slowing down to a dull roar. I look back to see her eyes still trained on me, blatantly staring as I remove the cigarette from the corner of my mouth and exhale the smoke into the night air.

"Alright, Lawson, come on." I say, turning around and walking back towards the open garage where my car sits parked.

"What? What are you-"

"Just get in the car, Jess, I'm trying to be a gentleman here."

[no-shxme]

Wander Closer (Complete)

McHanzo | AU + Dragon! Hanzo | NSFW | AO3 Link

shame’s note: this is a one shot from a longer story I want to write. got some fresh dragony hanzo and McCree. enjoy! 

He’s lucky to have gotten this close, McCree knows. He can’t help but think that it’s because Hanzo likes him, or at least tolerates him enough to allow him near. Even now the dragon-man glances back to make sure he’s following. He catches his gaze for just a moment before he slips back into the darkness ahead, silent as dust save for the click of his claws against stone.

He could easily be going to his death. Maybe Hanzo is luring him to a trap, deep within his lair. McCree isn’t one to take death lying down but the dragon he’s following is what keeps him moving forward, going deeper into the mountain ruins he’d set out to explore.

“Where’ya leadin’ me?” He asks after the silence has become too stifling. It’s unsettling him, making him wonder if he is wandering towards his death.

The dragon stops moving, he can tell because the clicking quits as well. A moment later he’s there, in front of him so suddenly that McCree’s breath hitches. In the lantern light, his beauty is even more apparent. A strong jaw, long mottled blue ears, the curve of long ivory horns that jut out above his hair, McCree could probably stare for hours, just drink it all in. He barely looks a day over twenty-five but Jesse wonders how old he really is. Wonders about this situation entirely.

As it is, Hanzo lays a careful hand flat against his chest and McCree stops breathing altogether. The dragon’s fingernails are sharp—but not as sharp as he would have guessed—as they trace the seam of McCree’s button up. Hanzo’s looking up at McCree almost like he’s waiting for something, anything. The faintest trace of a sly smile creeps across his face, a hint of fangs.

“Goddamn,” he croaks, finally finding his voice. His free hand, not holding the lantern, is hovering at Hanzo’s side, almost conflicted, aching to touch. “You’re gorgeous, know that?”

Hanzo small smile widens into something more approving. He pulls away from McCree, snatching the cowboy hat off his head with a quick movement.

“My hat—” Jesse’s voice dies out as he watches the dragon slot the Stetson over his horns. He glances back at McCree, arching one perfect brow and tweaking the angle of the hat on his head. He tucks his hands into the sleeves of his robe and disappears back into the darkness ahead.

It takes his feet a few seconds to catch up to his brain before McCree stumbles after Hanzo. He can’t hear him anymore and for a minute he’s wandering through the dim hallway on his own. The hallway’s cold drafts tickle his ears and the tip of his nose but he keeps walking, a bit faster now, boots loud against the cracked stone.

“Where’d you run off to?” His words come out hushed, the silence smothering his usual loudness. The foreboding feeling is returning, settling in his bones like the chill.

There’s a doorway to his right, covered by a hanging layer of thin fabric. McCree brushes it out of the way and steps inside, raising his lantern higher.

“Oh.”

It’s a bedroom, old and drafty but a bedroom nonetheless. Half melted unlit candles dot the walls, surrounding the futon in the middle. It’s low to the ground and lined with dark pillows, stark against the paleness of the mattress. Clearly, the area had been refurbished. It’s a bit messy, mismatched sheer fabric and blankets draped every which way, colorful pebbles piled on the floor, and cups of wildflowers positioned at random, but—it’s enchanting.

A strange word, but fitting, considering the dragon on the bed. Jesse’s arm sags and the light dims as the lantern swings. Hanzo’s in the center of the room, among the pillows and old decor. Sat down on the bed away from him, pulling the golden ribbon loose from his long hair. It sways as he relaxes his shoulders, probably as soft as it looks.

Jesse swallows. “Goddamn.”

Hanzo looks at him over his shoulder and his eyes are sly but his grin is almost wicked.

He quickly lights a few of the candles, just enough to help the lantern. His hands are shaking but he doesn’t think about it. Instead, he sheds his bag and kicks his boots into the corner. This might be a big mistake. He doesn’t know anything about dragons, maybe this is how they eat people, lure them in so they can’t escape.

But then he looks up at the creature, sees his strangely appraising glance, and all rational thoughts fall by the wayside.

“Can I?” He asks, hushed, hopeful as he crouches at the edge of the futon, sturdy boots crunching on the stone floor. He can’t be reading this wrong, can he? He was literally led to Hanzo’s bedroom.

Hanzo seems to consider his words. Jesse wonders how he sounds. Maybe deep, maybe light and airy. Perhaps he can’t speak at all.

McCree watches the stranger’s head jerk down in a nod, eyelids fluttering shut for a moment. That’s all the answer he needs, surging forward, hands sliding up Hanzo’s waist.

“Gorgeous.” He presses his nose against Hanzo’s hair, lips against his temple. “God—damn, you’re so gorgeous.” He pulls away so he can see his face. “I could look at ya’ for hours.”

The dragon under him seems to preen, a faint hum filling the air. It sends a chill down Jesse’s spine.

“You’re Hanzo, right?” McCree asks as he takes off his jacket. “I didn’t just misinterpret wrong? My Japanese ain’t that great.”

Hanzo nods and pulls off his hat, tossing it across the floor. It’s the first definite sign that he understands him. McCree runs a few fingers through his hair and finds it just as silky as he’s imagined.

“I’m Jesse,” he says, and watches as Hanzo’s mouth silently forms the name. His eyes are burning, alive with heat.

Deft hands make quick work of the buttons on McCree’s shirt and a moment later it hangs open. He smooths his thumb over an ivory horn as Hanzo’s palms map the expanse of his scruffy chest. Jesse knows he’s a looker, known ever since he was young. He chuckles at the dragon’s approving expression.

“Like what’cha see?” His attention turns to Hanzo’s own clothing, still very much on. “C’mon I wanna see ya’ too.” He tugs at the sash around Hanzo’s waist and it loosens, slipping off and pooling on the futon. Sharp fingers latch onto McCree’s bandana, tugging him forward into a biting kiss. Hanzo’s lips are warm against his, and one of his fangs catches on McCree’s lower lip, drawing out a grunt of pain. Jesse pulls the dragon’s robe down, exposing more tempting skin. He leans back onto his knees and breaks away from the kiss, Hanzo’s mouth chasing his backwards.

He whistles, a short breathy thing, because Hanzo is just full of surprises. His skin is unblemished except for spots of scales on the shoulders, dark in color. And the tattoo, Jesse would love to examine it closer. A winding dragon wraps around Hanzo’s arm, vibrant and detailed. He follows it up to Hanzo’s chest, enthralled. Was he born with it? Did he get it done?

A warm hand palms his bulge and focuses his attention back on the task at hand. He dips his head down and latches onto a dark nipple. Hanzo whines and he relishes in the sound, wonders what other noises he can pull out of him.

“Spread your legs for me,” he murmurs, voice thick. “Lemme see what we’re dealing with.”

Hanzo’s legs part easily, robe opening even more. McCree slips the rest of it off, laying the dragon bare. He whistles again, taking in the toned body below him. Hanzo is lithe and muscular, and basically looks human but—

He’s not. The horns, the fangs, the scales, and now the pink slit between Hanzo’s legs. McCree hums to himself thoughtfully.

“You a lady?” Jesse asks, rubbing the inside of Hanzo’s thighs with his thumb. He doesn’t know dragon anatomy. Maybe this is what a girl looks like.

A sturdy knee collides none too gently with his chest. Hanzo’s scowling.

“Okay, not a lady,” McCree chuckles apologetically. He shifts himself backwards. “Scooch up? I’ll make you feel good.”

Hanzo shuffles backwards clumsily and McCree immediately ducks down to lick a long stripe up the dragon’s sex. He’s rewarded with a quiet gasp. Another sound to add to the collection. He dips his tongue even lower, exploring. Hanzo is already deliciously wet. It’s easy enough to slide two fingers in and feel how tight he is, throbbing around the intrusion. Jesse prods curiously at a nub at the very top of Hanzo’s entrance and he revels in the way the creature jolts. He prods it again and fingers find his hair and pull hard.

“Alright alright,” he half hisses, going where his head is pulled. Sadly up and away from between Hanzo’s legs. “Would be helpful if you said somethin’.”

Hanzo glares at him shrewdly. In one swift movement, he unbalances McCree with his knee and swings him under him. McCree’s head hits the stiff mattress none too gently. He blinks at the dragon now sitting on top of him.

“Jesse.” Hanzo speaks like he’s testing the name out. His voice is deep. Deeper than Jesse would have assumed. Not bad though. Not bad at all.

“You’re—” he wants to say gorgeous, but he’s already repeated himself too much so his words catch in his throat. Hanzo doesn’t wait for him to finish, grinding down on Jesse’s trapped cock.

He chokes. “Fuck, hang on sweetheart.”

Hanzo gracefully lifts himself up to his knees to allow McCree to fumble with his belt. He manages to unbuckle it and forces his pants and underwear down in one rushed movement. The cold air hits his now bared cock and he winces. Hanzo looks at it carefully as he settles back down on McCree’s hips.

“It’s big, for a human,” Jesse reassures, a bit embarrassed by the staring.

Hanzo raises an eyebrow. He reaches down and grips the base of Jesse’s cock, running his palm up the shaft. It’s almost like he’s weighing it in his hand. Jesse jolts as the dragon’s curious thumb dips against the end of his cock.

“Careful darlin’,” he croaks, voice shaking just a little.

Hanzo looks at him and his eyes are dark with lust. He tosses his head up haughtily as if being asked to be careful is a disrespectful challenge.

The dragon raises his hips and lines up Jesse’s aching cock with his entrance. The scales dotting his body glimmer in the candlelight and his tattoo almost seems to glow. McCree can’t help but wonder—once again—if this is real. Maybe he’s hallucinating. Maybe he got lost in the mountain snow and this is his one respite before he dies.

McCree doesn’t really care either way. It feels real as Hanzo sinks onto his cock. He watches as Hanzo slides down slowly, huffing and sighing as he takes inch after inch till he’s fully seated. It’s impossibly hot and tight and Jesse props himself up on one elbow to admire how Hanzo trembles.

“That’s it,” he encourages breathily. “You’ve got it, you’re perfect.”

The dragon’s face is flushed but the extra compliment still shows as his expression breaks into a hazy smile. He begins to rock himself on McCree’s cock, starting at a tempo that has them both groaning. Jesse grips Hanzo’s thighs to steady him, brushing his fingers over the smooth skin. The room is still cold, candles offering little to no heat, but Hanzo is so warm around him. He clenches around his dick suddenly and stills, chest heaving, eyes fluttering shut.

“Feel good?” McCree asks, in a voice like the rocky hills he’d climbed to get here.

Hanzo looks at him through half-lidded eyes. He knows it does, but McCree isn’t quite done yet. He slaps Hanzo’s hip gently.

“Off for a sec.” He groans as Hanzo pulls off of him with a whine.

He eases Hanzo onto his back and spreads his legs wide, rubbing the head of his still hard cock against the dragon’s cunt.

“Jesse—” the blessed name leaves Hanzo’s lips as he claws at Jesse’s arms.

“Easy there darlin’,” Jesse grunts and pushes inside again, feeling the blissful heat once more.

McCree starts a pace then, a fast but gentle pace. He wants to take his time. He wants to savor this gorgeous dragon and let this last because he knows it won’t last. Leaning down, Jesse sucks a mark onto Hanzo’s neck. The creature underneath him keens, back arching high off the mattress.

He continues, pressure building in his gut and Hanzo’s loud. He’s loud and so hot as he whines and groans. Eventually, it becomes too much and Jesse releases with a shout, voice echoing across the room. Maybe across the ruins entirely.

    Hanzo’s chest heaves below him as he pulls out, breath heavy. McCree watches a bead of white bubble out of Hanzo’s rosy slit before he shuffles up next to him on the futon.

“Don’t talk much?” he asks brushing long hair from the dragon’s face. He grazes his fingertips over a horn again, admiring them.

Hanzo says something in Japanese, too fast and mumbled for Jesse to comprehend. He rolls fully onto his side and presses his face against McCree’s shoulder.

They tangle their legs together and Jesse buries his nose in Hanzo’s hair knowing it won’t last.

And it doesn’t. When morning comes and Jesse wakes alone in the ruins, he knows some things are too good to be true. He doesn’t dwell on it. Instead, he dresses and packs his things and if he picks a long golden ribbon off the floor and ties it onto his belt then it’s unimportant.

Because he’s still got an adventure to finish, and good things never stay.

[intim3ate]

Kinktober Day 8 - Blood/Gore | “The Devil Beneath” | McHanzo

McCree and Hanzo come back from a date bloody, bruised, and ecstatic.

It feels like forever since I’ve written McHanzo... I don’t even really know where this one came from. It wasn’t in my kinktober plans, but I think I got hit with some inspiration the last few days because it came outta nowhere. 

Not as much blood as I’d like, 'cause for some reason the blood play thing didn’t work out. It works more as a starting point I guess, lol.

Anyway enjoy. 

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Hanzo walks in the room with blood dripping from his nose. It’s trickles down past his lips, caking in his beard. Blood is smeared on his cheek, too; he wipes at it with the back of his hand and kicks off his shoes, not bothering to line them up nicely at the door as usual.

McCree follows right behind him, face similarly bloody. His hair is matted with the stuff, clothes stained with it. He's a little bit more careful taking his shoes off, a little less frustrated than Hanzo, but he doesn't bother to keep things neat and tidy either. He shrugs off his suit jacket and lets it fall to the floor unceremoniously.

Hanzo turns to look at him. McCree looks back.

They laugh.

"You look horrible," Hanzo says first, between peals of laughter.

McCree can barely get his retort out, but he somehow manages to wheeze, "Still better than you, sweetheart!"

He's doubled over, hands on his knees, looking down at the ground. The toes of Hanzo's socks enter his field of vision and McCree looks up to see his lover smiling down at him. It's warm and fond, but there's something glinting beneath the surface.

Something hungry. Something dangerous.

And because they clearly haven't had enough danger for one night, McCree accepts the invitation and stands up straight. He takes Hanzo's blood-caked face in both hands, pulls him close, and kisses him hard on the mouth. He can taste the metallic tang of the blood staining Hanzo's lips, and it sets off something primal and urgent in McCree: he pushes forward, deepening the kiss, prying Hanzo's lips open and slipping his tongue between them.

Hanzo responds just as fiercely as ever. His hands tangle in McCree's hair and he pulls, forcing him to adjust and change his angle. McCree groans into the kiss. His hands move, one coming to rest on Hanzo's shoulder and the other on his hip. McCree tugs him closer, taking a step back, then another and another until the backs of his knees hit the bed. He breaks the kiss then, grinning toothily at Hanzo, and falls backward onto the bed, pulling the archer on top of him.

He rocks his hips upward, eager for some friction against his growing erection. Hanzo is starting to get hard too, and when McCree looks up into his eyes, they're dark, pupils blown wide open. Hanzo licks his lips hungrily.

"I changed my mind," he announces, far more imperiously than is necessary. McCree shivers at the commanding tone in his voice, eager and desperate to hear more. "You look positively sinful like this."

"Mmm, tell me more," McCree purrs. He reaches up and pets Hanzo's sides, hands slipping under the hem of his shirt.

"Tell you more?" Hanzo repeats. He leans down close and nips McCree's ear. His voice is low and raspy, like he's purposely holding himself back. McCree loves it. "About what? About how beautiful you look covered in someone else's blood? About the rush I feel when I see you fight? When you let go and lose yourself in the heat of the moment? Mmm." Hanzo backs off with a smirk. His hands pet at McCree's chest a moment before he starts to slowly unbutton McCree's bloody shirt. "There is a devil inside you, Jesse McCree. One I will never tire of seeing freed."

McCree breathes heavily. Once his chest is exposed, Hanzo traces his fingertips over his pectorals reverently. "Let me see him, Jesse," he whispers. "Let me feel him."

McCree growls low in his throat. Who is he to deny his lover after that? He thrusts his hips up, grinding his still-clothed cock against Hanzo's. The other man moans breathlessly, back arching and head falling back on his shoulders. His hair is coming loose, falling in thin strands about his shoulders, so McCree reaches up and pulls the ribbon out of it, letting it flutter and fall to the floor.

"Ahh..." Hanzo sighs. His hips start to move too, rhythm steady to match McCree's. McCree can't help but chuckle at it. Hanzo Shimada, putting himself on display like this. He's never been a modest man, but something about this feels private, like a secret he's only willing to share with McCree. All the discipline he had has gone out the window, fled at the first impact of fist to flesh. Hanzo is hungry and nearing desperation. And McCree is only too happy to feed him.

He unfastens the button of Hanzo's pants, unzips his fly, reaches in and pulls his lover's cock free. It's warm and hard in his hand, and McCree can't help himself: he sits up, curling in on himself so he can kiss the tip. It puts a strain on his aching body where he'd been hit hard before, but it's worth it for the shiver and sigh Hanzo gives him in response.

He falls back to the bed and strokes Hanzo's cock, squeezing it firmly on the upstroke. "A devil and a dragon," he says. "You know, you talk a lot of shit for someone so easy to rile up."

"Hmm." Hanzo doesn't respond except to lean back and allow McCree a slightly better angle. "Go on."

"Don't think I didn't see the way you were watching me," McCree says. "I know that look you get when you know a fight's comin'. You can't contain yourself. You gotta be the first one to draw blood, 'cause nobody pulls one over on Hanzo Shimada." He licks his lips, and maybe he's pushing his luck, but he's never been one to hold his tongue when he has something to say. "Nobody except me."

"Ah…" Hanzo shudders. His fists clench; McCree has struck a nerve. He grins toothily and shifts beneath his lover to sit up straighter, and pulls Hanzo close again with a finger hooked under the knot of his tie.

"Am I wrong?" McCree asks. Hanzo bites his lip and inhales shakily. He doesn't speak, just rocks his hips into McCree's hold. He's starting to lose himself. McCree leans up and bites his lip, hard enough to draw yet more blood. Hanzo groans loudly, jerks his hips faster.

"I said..." McCree leans in close, breath puffing over Hanzo's bleeding lip. "Am I wrong?"

"No," Hanzo relents, voice coming out in a rush of air. McCree grins at him, his gaze nothing short of predatory. Hanzo is his now.

"That's right," he says. He lets go of Hanzo's tie to nudge his chin. Hanzo takes the wordless command and obeys it, lifting himself off of Jesse just long enough for them both to shed their trousers. When he comes back down, he grinds himself directly against Jesse's cock, already leaking with precum.

"God damn, darling," McCree hisses. He reaches over to their bedside stand and pulls out a bottle of lube. Hanzo watches him, smiling excitedly, as he slicks up his fingers. "I can't wait to fuck you."

"Please," Hanzo says, and the fact that he's pleading already, without having to be told, means he's even hornier than McCree had thought. Who knew a simple fist fight would have awakened something like this in him so easily? Or perhaps he just has that effect on Hanzo. McCree likes to think it's the latter.

He traces his fingers along Hanzo's crack before plunging them inside his lover. They go in easily, and once again McCree thinks about how bad Hanzo must want this. Want him. It's unbearably hot.

And it's making McCree impatient. He fingers his lover carefully, but with a bit more urgency than he normally would. Hanzo doesn't seem to mind; he grinds back against the fingers greedily, as if asking for more. McCree obliges him, adding a third finger and spreading them out to stretch him. He doesn't linger for too long, though, and abruptly pulls them out. Hanzo whines, at the loss or the suddenness of it, McCree doesn't really know, but he doesn't particularly care, either, not when Hanzo is already looking for a replacement by grinding against his cock.

"And you said I had a devil in me," McCree muses. He takes the bottle of lube again and slicks himself up hastily. He wipes his hand on his shirt and guides Hanzo over his dick. "You ready?"

He doesn't get an answer; Hanzo decides to take matters into his own hands and plunges himself down onto McCree, clenching down around him and taking him in just so perfectly. McCree chokes a little, caught off-guard by the suddenness of the movement, but he slowly regains his composure as Hanzo starts to fuck himself on his cock.

"Shit," McCree hisses. He rolls his hips, thrusting up to meet every downward movement Hanzo makes. "Shit, honey, you feel so fuckin' good."

Hanzo smirks, but the haughtiness is lost somewhat in the redness of his face. "Is that so?" he teases, and just to emphasize that he already knows how good he is, Hanzo clamps down on McCree and leans back, angling himself so McCree hits deeper and deeper with every thrust.

Their movements are fast and hurried, neither one of them wanting to take their time. They're still coasting on the combined adrenaline of their lust and their earlier fight, neither one wanting to let that feeling go, so they chase it with teeth and tongue and lips and nails and quick, erratic thrusts and jerks.

Hanzo cries out, fingers clenching in in his own hair as McCree rams his prostate. "Fuck, yes, Jesse...!" he breathes. He bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to focus, to hold onto that pleasure.

"I gotcha," McCree assures him. He swallows a moan when Hanzo clenches down against him again. "I got -- fuck!"

McCree comes suddenly, eyes blowing wide. He digs his fingers into Hanzo's hips and moves him back and forth, still thrusting as he rides out his orgasm. He knows Hanzo's close, he can see it in every line of his lover's body, and he wants to make him come to, wants to make him lose the last little bit of himself he has left --

And he does, thrusting up into Hanzo's prostate one last time. Hanzo comes with a shout; his cum leaves streaks across McCree's chest as he finishes, one spurt after another, until he falls limp and slack in McCree's hold.

McCree lets go. Hanzo stays where he is, trying to regain his composure. It takes him a while, and McCree has to lift him off his dick and guide the archer down to lie next to him. But Hanzo goes readily, smiling as he presses his chest to McCree's side.

"You are filthy," he says at last, as if the blood hadn't been what got him all riled up in the first place. McCree just laughs and strokes Hanzo's chin with his thumb.

"And whose fault is that?" he asks.

Hanzo hums. "The men that interrupted our date," he says. "Really, they should have known better than to pick a fight with us."

"Yeah, but look at where it got us," McCree says. "Dirty as all hell, but that's some of the best sex we've had in a while, ain't it?"

"Hm. Perhaps you are right." Hanzo lifts himself and hovers over McCree, one hand idly playing with his chest hair. "I do love a good fight."

"That's the spirit," McCree says. He leans up and kisses Hanzo gently. "So what d'you say, then? Same time next week?"

Hanzo chuckles softly. "Perhaps."

And that’s good enough for now.

[thesoftdumbass]

Wild Blooms

FDR Foster X Reader (This Means War)

I Gift Thee Chris and Karl || @goingknowherewastaken Birthday Challenge, Flower Shop AU

Word Count: 3.2K

Characters: Franklin “FDR” Foster, Alexus (OC), Nana, Tuck, the kid with a bucket on his head from the movie.

Warnings: I think like one cuss word?

Summary: When FDR’s florist moves away, he is forced to find another person to buy flowers for dinner on Saturday nights at Nana’s. Luckily he found you.

A/N: Hey, you guys! I wrote this fic for Katie’s birthday challenge! Sorry it’s a day late, but i’m suck at finishing things on time. I hope you had a fun day and that you like this fic!

This is my first time writing FDR, and I’ve only seen the movie like once, so I hope it’s not too OOC for ya! So without further adieu, let’s get into it!

masterlist 

The shop is relatively empty for a Saturday afternoon, but you don’t mind much. You bob your head to the music playing over the loudspeakers as you gather some freesia blossoms to add to a bouquet that’s being prepared for a client’s order. The only other people inside your corner flower shop is a couple looking for flowers for their wedding reception, browsing through a book of your arrangements.

You check on the couple, Tom and Jess, you remember as you’re walking away, to make sure they don’t need anything from you before going back to your task. You’re just wrapping up a group of flowers a few minutes later when you hear the bell above the door chime with a new customer arriving.

“Just a minute,” you call out and receive a “no rush” in return. The bouquet you were finishing up now in the cooler and waiting to be picked up, you make your way back out into the main area of the shop. The buckets that line the shelves are full of beautiful blooms and you take a moment to appreciate their scents on your way to where you heard the man’s voice come from.

“Hi, welcome to Wild Blooms. Can I help you with anything today,” you ask in your pleasant customer voice.

The customer is looking at a bucket of pink carnations with mild interest but turns around at your voice. When he turns his eyes to you, the bright blue blue color stuns you for a moment, his light brown hair falling onto his forehead. Breaking out of your trance, you await his response.

“I’m just looking for some flowers to take to dinner,” he replies, his voice smooth as honey.

“I can help with that. Would you like a custom bunch, a vase, or there are pre-made bouquets that you can choose from,” you offer.

“I may get a pre-made one for today.”

You nod and lead him back to the glass-front cooler where you keep the already made arrangements, some of them made just this morning. “This is what we have for right now. Are you looking for anything in particular?”

“I just want it to be special, can you recommend something?” The man looks at you for your opinion, and he brushes a piece of blond hair from his forehead.

“Well, roses are usually safe. Or if you want something different, this one is pretty special,” you say, pointing out a particular arrangement. It’s beautiful, anemones and blue ranunculus interspersed with Alister roses and sprigs of greenery. He smiles brightly at the colorful flowers.

“These are beautiful! I’ll take them.”

“Alright, I’ll get these and check you out. Come with me,” you nod toward the counter in the back where the register sits, already grabbing the flowers from the cooler and heading in that direction. You pull some brown paper from a roll on the wall and wrap the bouquet neatly, tying red twine across the stems when you were done and ringing the man up. When he’s done paying, you give a large smile to the attractive man. “All done here, I hope you enjoy them…” you trail off, hoping to get his name.

“FDR. It’s nice to meet you…Y/N.” He trails off, looking to your name tag. “Thank you for the flowers, she’s gonna love them,” he smiles, looking down at the arrangement sitting on the counter.

Your face falls at the realization, but you cover it quickly with a smile. Of course a man as handsome as him isn’t single. You pick up the flowers, handing them to him. “Have a nice day,” you wave before getting back to work.

For weeks, almost like clockwork, FDR would come into the shop on late Saturday afternoons and buy a bouquet, leaving with a flirty comment and a parting wink, so you’re not expecting it when the man shows up on a Friday. You’ve just removed yourself from the storage room with a new shipment of flowers, your hands full of bright sunflowers when you see him. He’s making his way to the back of the store, to the cash register stand.

“FDR,” you say with slight confusion in your tone. He turns around at the mention of his name and smiles when he sees you, his bright blue eyes lighting up. “Y/N, hey!”

“You’re a little early,” you say lightly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. You didn’t know that the man you have a slight crush on would be in today, so you’re just wearing jeans and a tank top with your hair up in a messy bun. FDR thinks you look good though, running an appreciative eye down your figure as you’re distracted, sitting down the container of flowers you were previously holding.

“Yeah, I am. I am here to pick out a bouquet but I have to go into work tomorrow, so I thought I’d come in today and have them delivered. As long as that’s okay,” he trails off. You nod, perhaps a little too quickly, and that is confirmation enough for him. “I really wanna do something special this time. Do you think you’re up for helping me put together an arrangement?”

“Of course,” you exclaim, and FDR chuckles at the way your whole face lights up at all the possibilities. “Where would you like to start?”

“I wanted something a little different, maybe something I haven’t gotten. I was looking at those last time I was here.” FDR points to the corner filled with peonies, the large blooms having caught his eye before. The two of you walk over, where FDR cups one of the peach blooms softly in one hand.

“You like these? I just got this batch in yesterday.”

“They’re gorgeous,” FDR says and you get to work. He tells you that he has something big in mind, so you pick out some blooms on the larger side.

With the peach peonies in your work bucket, you make rounds around the shop picking out complimentary blossoms, the container full of orange, white, and bright pink roses respectively, baby’s breath, begonias, and small tufts of yarrow.

You bring FDR to a workstation and he sits down the bucket that he had insisted on carrying as it was filled up. You take a break, grabbing two cold water bottles from the fridge and handing one to him. You sit on a bench for a few minutes, looking around.

“You know I opened this shop almost two years ago,” you say in reminiscence, distracted by the memory of receiving your first customer.

FDR turns his head to look at you from where he’s sitting beside you. “Really? I didn’t know you owned this place,” he hums.

“Yep,” you say, popping the p. “My mom loves flowers. Our house was surrounded by them growing up and I would always look up the names so I could remember them later. I guess that stuck with me, flowers are my passion now. I like making people happy too, seeing a smile on someone’s face as they receive a bouquet, that’s why I make my own deliveries sometimes.”

FDR watches as you talk and look back, the smile on your face coming easily to you as his own lips stretch into a matching grin. The overwhelming urge to kiss you comes to him, and not since the first time he’s met you. As soon as he saw the enthusiasm that you approach your work with, FDR was hooked and knew that he wanted to know more about you. Thinking back on it, Franklin Foster is so happy that his old florist moved away.

His attention is drawn back to you when the sound of your laugh reaches his ears, fingers snapping in front of his nose. It’s a sound that he hasn’t heard nearly enough, and the corners of his mouth turn up instantly.

“You still with me,” you ask through giggles.

“Always,” he chuckles.

“Let’s get to work, you goof.” You sit down your water bottle and turn to the table, looking through the bucket of flowers and deciding on a game plan. “You said you wanted them in a vase, right?” He agrees and you help him pick one out from the shelf along the wall before getting to work.

Two sets of hands work quicker than one, and soon enough you’re finishing up, wrapping a pretty pink ribbon around the vase to be delivered tomorrow. You try to get the bow just right, absolutely /not/ trying to stall. When you’re done, FDR will leave and you’ll be left alone with your work and a skipping heartbeat just like many times before. As you’re adjusting one of the rose blossoms, making sure that it’s turned right, you feel more than see someone coming up behind you.

“Perfect,” a low voice murmurs next to your ear and you smile. Lifting your head from examining the arrangement, you turn your head to meet your gaze with FDR, a soft expression in his eyes.

You smile and giggle softly, looking back at the vase. “Yes, well, I can’t take all the credit. You did help.”

“Right, the flowers,” he clears his throat, “yeah, they look amazing.” A crease forms between your brows as you try to figure out what he means by that, but he’s talking before you can think too much about it. “Can these be here at seven o’clock tomorrow night,” he asks, handing you a slip of paper with an address written on it.

“Yeah, of course,” you say, and your voice comes out less than enthused, so you put on your customer service smile to try and make up for it. FDR looks at you with scrutiny, recognizing the look on your face.

“You don’t have to do that, put on a fake expression. You can be you around me, I hope you know that, Y/N.”

Your eyebrows draw upwards in surprise that he noticed, but you soothe your face back down to normal. You clear your throat and speak, your voice coming out quieter than you expected. “Thank you, FDR. You too,” and you mean it, a small smile lifting your mouth. He leaves not long after that, promising to speak to you soon.

The next day you’re going through some papers in your office when one of your delivery people Alexus sticks her head in the open doorway. “Hey boss, I’m about to head out for my evening run. Is this everything,” she asks, gesturing to the line of flowers waiting to be loaded into the van. You look over them, nodding your head and then stopping when your eyes land on the peony bouquet that you and FDR put together the night before.

“Yeah Lex, I’ll take this one though. Let me help you load these up.” You help Alexus with the flowers and make sure the vase is secure in the car before checking yourself over. You may not even see FDR, but your minimal makeup, casual white and black striped dress, and flats look passable with your hair down in waves. It’s better to be prepared, right? You check the address slip that’s attached to a vase and get ready to head to the house outside of town.

When you pull up to the address, you think that it’s not what you were expecting. The farmhouse and the surrounding land is beautiful, but you were surprised by the number of vehicles parked outside. There must be an event going on inside, you think to yourself.

You pick the vase up and carry it carefully to the front door lest it break, and make sure to pocket the address and billing information so the person on the receiving end doesn’t see it. There’s a card attached that you hadn’t seen before, FDR must have written it while you weren’t paying attention. You ring the doorbell by the front door and hear the chimes sound throughout the large house. While you wait, your curiosity gets the better of you and you peek down at the card that reads

Happy birthday Nana, you’re a Saint for putting up with me for all these years.

You barely have time to process this new information when the door opens in front of you and you bring your lips into a shy smile. You come to face an elderly woman, her white hair tucked back into an elegant updo, a dress and heels adding to the air of sophistication. She looks to you and her red lips pull into a bright grin when she spots the flowers in your hands.

“Oh my, such lovely flowers,” she says excitedly in a British accent. “Are these from my Franklin?”

“Franklin,” you mutter confusedly, tilting your head, and before you can open your mouth again to ask who that is, you hear your name being called and you turn around.

“Y/N! I didn’t know you would be here,” FDR says as he walks closer to you, having just arrived.

“I told you that I make deliveries sometimes,” you say sheepishly, shrugging a shoulder.

You glance uneasily back to the front door that’s still open and FDR smacks himself on the forehead, walking over and embracing the woman, who is still standing there.

“Nana, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my Nana. This woman raised me, and I can’t thank her enough.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, and I’m guessing these are for you,” you say with a genuine smile this time.

Nana accepts the flowers readily and pulls them up to her face to smell, taking the time to appreciate their beauty.

“Thank you for bringing these,” FDR puts a hand on your back and leans a little closer to you as Nana is otherwise occupied, though she doesn’t miss the exchange.

“Of course,” you reply, suddenly bashful.

“We are having a little celebration out back, would you like to stay for the party? You can keep Franklin company,” Nana speaks up.

FDR groans inwardly at her meddling, but he still smiles when you look to him for reassurance. “That sounds nice.”

The two of you follow Nana inside, your shoulders brushing as she leads you through the impressive house to a fenced-in area of the backyard.

“Look what this sweet girl brought me,” she announces to anyone listening and you hear back a few praises on the arrangement.

“Thank you, Nana, but FDR helped me,” you didn’t want to take all the credit for the flowers.

“Oh please, all I did was point out one flower. You matched the rest and put them together beautifully,” he replies affectionately. You bite your lip at the compliment.

After a few minutes of chatting between the two of you, you are interrupted by a loud voice nearby speaking in a British accent. “Look who finally showed up,” is heard before a shorter man comes over to FDR and wraps him in a warm, albeit rough hug.

“Collins had me come in today, I told you that yesterday.”

“Yes, well, you failed to mention that you would be bringing a date to Nana’s birthday.” The man turns to you, putting out a hand for you to shake and you do. You can’t help but notice that FDR doesn’t correct him about you being his date. “My name is Tuck, I’m his brother,” he says with a thumb pointed towards your companion.

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you, Tuck. So I’m guessing you could tell me a bunch of embarrassing stories about Franklin,” you say, putting a teasing emphasis on his real name. FDR groans, and is that a blush painting his cheeks? You giggle at this.

“You have no idea, love. There was this one time, in Bangladesh-” Tuck starts but is cut off by FDR interrupting him.

“Let’s not do this right now, Tuck. Another topic please, any other topic?” You smirk at how flustered this confident charmer has become.

Tuck laughs before turning the conversation. “So how did you meet Frank?”

You tilt your head to look up at him with a smile, thinking to the first time you met him. “I’m a florist, I own a flower shop in town. FDR came in one day, clueless about what to buy, so I helped him. He’s come in every Saturday since. I actually brought an arrangement here today.”

“Oh you’re the cute florist he’s always going on about. It was getting annoying, but I can’t say I blame him.”

You hear a strangled sort of noise and look beside you to where it seems to have come from. “You okay,” you question, concerned but still amused.

“I’m fine.”

Tuck leaves after this, going off to sit with his wife and son, leaving you to your own devices, promising to tell you all of Franklin’s terrible and funny stories. You plan to take him up on it.

FDR walks with you over to an empty table that’s been set up, and you sit down, him following. He looks at you, a shy smile on his face. “I’m sorry about my family. They can be a little much, at times.” FDR shakes his head affectionately.

You laugh, looking over at him with a smile. “I like them, they’re fun.”

He shrugs, watching a little boy run by with a bucket over his head. A laugh escapes his lips at the boy’s antics. “Yeah, sometimes.”

After a little while, dinner is served and you sit with FDR, chatting about your lives, learning more about each other. “So Nana raised you?”

“Yeah, yeah she did. What that woman must have went through, I was a bit of a troublemaker growing up.”

“I don’t know, I think you grew up pretty well,” you say with a faux thoughtful smile, teasing. FDR rolls his eyes good-naturedly and you giggle. “No, but really. It’s great of you to get her flowers every week, that’s so sweet. Not many people do that lately. I make my living off of people trying to make up for mistakes, and the occasional wedding. But not you.” You duck your head as you realize that you’ve been talking for too long. You shrug, “I don’t know, I think you’re pretty special.”

FDR reaches a hand out to touch your cheek, his thumb running over your cheekbone, and as you lift your head up, your eyes are met with his brilliant blue ones.

“I think you’re pretty special, too.” You feel your cheeks flush and lean into his touch, looking up at him from under your eyelashes. “I don’t know if I’m reading this wrong, but… can I see you sometime, outside of Wild Blooms?”

You can’t help but giggle, nodding your head happily. “Of course you can.”

“Good,” FDR nods. “How about dinner tomorrow night, I’ll pick you up at your place?” The hopeful look in his eyes makes you melt inside, and suddenly you can’t wait for tomorrow night.

Feeling brave, you lean forward quickly and confidently, placing your lips on his cheek and lingering before pulling away slowly. The goofy grin that takes over FDR’s face makes your expression match, his happiness infectious.

From across the yard, Nana stands with Tuck, watching the two of you with fondness. “I think Y/N is good for him,” Nana observes.

“Yeah, she is,” Tuck nods, and then laughs. “Now we’ve just got to break it to her what he does for a living.”

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[ladywinchester1967]

His Good Girl: The Epilogue

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Alaina Taylor-Winchester (OFC)

Warnings: Dad!Dean feels, doubt, some angst, SMUT, fingering, oral (female receiving, Sir!Kink, praise!kink, unprotected sex (wrap it up IRL), language...I believe that’s it. 

A/N: I can’t even believe this, we’re FINALLY HERE!!! This is the last chapter in His Good Girl. Thank you so much to everyone that has loved this series and has been with it since the beginning. I’m truly stunned and blessed because of you guys. The usual; unbeta’d all mistakes belong to me, all pics and gif are not mine, they were found on Pinterest and tumblr

Wondering what this is? Think you missed something? Coming upon this for the first time?

CATCH UP:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

*~*~*~*~* 6 Months Later ~*~*~*~*~  

Alaina handed Trish the diaper bag and asked

“Are you SURE you’re okay with keeping him the entire weekend?”

“He’s six months old for fuck’s sake Alaina,” Trish insisted as she placed the diaper bag behind the driver’s seat in her car “plus I’m bigger than he is. I can handle him.”

“If you need me, please call.” Alaina said

“Hey,” Trish said and placed her hands on her sister’s shoulders “I can handle him. I’ve watched him before with no problems, plus I’m getting together with Sam, Jess and Morgan on Sunday so they can see him.”

“I’ve never left him for this long, I’m nervous!” Alaina exclaimed.

In six months, Alaina and Dean had gotten married and raised Oliver with nearly no problems. But with Dean studying to be a diesel mechanic and Alaina taking on more cases at work, they hadn’t had a lot of time to devote to their relationship. Sex had been quick and squeezed in between naps and meetings, she recalled a conversation with Trish over bunch the week before.

“I’m going crazy,” Alaina had said to Trish “I mean it this time. I’ve officially fucking lost it.”

“You lost it a long time ago, just saying.” Trish had said while holding Oliver.

“This is a judgment free zone right?” Alaina had asked her sister.

“Yeah, duh.” Trish had told her

Alaina had taken a deep breath and finally let it out

“I have this drop dead, sexy husband and I don’t have the time or energy to screw his brains out like I want to.” She blurted out.

Trish nearly laughed herself into a snorting fit before she’d regained her composure.

“That was hilarious,” she had said “thanks for that.”

“Help me please,” Alaina had begged “I don’t know what to do!”

“We got this.” Trish had told her.

It had been Trish’s idea to take Oliver for the weekend so Dean and Alaina wouldn’t have any distractions. Alaina was apprehensive, but eventually came around to the idea. She and Dean hadn’t spent more than a night away from Oliver by choice; even their honeymoon was only one night as they were anxious to get back to their son.

In the present time, Trish hugged Alaina and said

“I got this, don’t worry about me and little man.”

“I know you do.” Alaina told Trish “But anything goes sideways, you call okay?”

“You know I will.” Trish said and then let her sister go.

Alaina looked at Oliver, who was happily kicking his tiny feet and waving his hands.

“You be good for your Auntie okay?” Alaina cooed at Oliver “You gonna be a good boy?”

Oliver gleefully shouted before shoving his fist into his mouth and both ladies laughed.

“I’ll take that as as yes.” Trish said.

When they were finally gone, Alaina picked up around the house and got the oven prepared for dinner. Jess had showed her a recipe for roasted chicken that she knew Sam and Dean loved; so Alaina had decided to make that along with vegetables, potatoes and Dean’s favorite dessert; pie. While the food was cooking, she couldn't help but look around their house and realize all the memories they had mad since moving in. She recalled one particularly difficult day when she came home from work. She's lost a case that she was sure was a home run and couldn't have felt like a bigger failure. When she trudged through the door, she could hear that the TV was on, but nothing else.

“Dean?” she asked as she looked around, putting her purse and briefcase down in her office. She slipped off her shoes and walked into the living room to find Dean and Oliver on the couch, asleep. She stood there for a second and took it in. The Thursday night football game between the Green Bay Packers and Detroit Lions was playing, Dean was laying stretched out on the couch with on hand behind his head, while the other rested on Oliver's back. Oliver was laid out on Dean's chest as he peacefully snored. Alaina placed her hands over her mouth and let her tears flow.

“My boys,” she said softly and then quickly took a picture with her phone “my handsome boys.”

Once dinner was prepped and ready to go, Alaina changed into baby doll lingerie with boy shorts that she knew would drive Dean insane. She added a little bit of makeup to accentuate her features and pulled her hair into a high ponytail like she knew he liked. She added a pair of nude heels with black lace detail on them and silk ribbons around the ankles. She stood in the mirror and admired herself, satisfied with what she saw, she grinned and strutted downstairs to wait for him.

At ten past six, she heard Dean park his car in the garage and heard him come through the door that lead from the house to the garage.

“Alaina?” She heard him call as she made him a drink.

“In the kitchen!” She shouted back. He rounded the corner, his eyes as wide as dinner plates. “Hey ya handsome.” She greeted him.

He could only see her from the waist up, but he liked what he saw; he had a mischievous grin playing on his full lips as he looked her up and down. “Something I can help you with?” She asked, playing coy.

“Well,” He said swallowing as his eyes made a second and third pass over her

 “I was looking for my wife, you seen her anywhere?”

Alaina bit her lip and rounded the counter, showing off the rest of her barely there outfit and the heels, making Dean’s breath hitch in his throat.

“She’s occupied,” Alaina responded and handed Dean a glass of whiskey “you know, lawyer stuff.”

Dean accepted the glass and then asked

“And Ollie? Where might he be?”

“With his Aunt Trish.” Alaina answered as they each took a sip of whiskey. “They left about an hour and a half ago.”

“If I didn’t know better,” he said as he finished a sip of whiskey “I would think you’re trying to seduce me.”

Alaina shrugged

“Now, where would you get that idea?” She asked, feigning innocence “I was just making myself comfortable in my own home.”

“Yeah, sure.” He said and leaned into her “Wearing this and shorts that barely cover your ass.”

To make his point, he quickly snapped his hand over the meat of her butt, making her yelp in surprise.

“SIR, I would never tempt a married man like that!” She said with a laugh.

“You are walking temptation baby,” he said with a grin “I’d love to rip that little outfit off you and have you right now, but I’m covered in grease.”

She pouted at this and he said

“Fifteen minutes is all I need, I’ll make it worth your while.”

She looked at the clock and said

“Fifteen minutes and no longer.”

Another grin flashed across his face and he kissed her again.

“Be right back, don’t go anywhere.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She told him and he walked off, heading up the stairs.

Ten quick minutes later, Dean reappeared, his hair still damp from the shower, wearing jeans and a plain black T-shirt.

“Feel better?” She asked as she handed him a plate.

“Much.” He said and quickly kissed her “AND you made dinner?”

“I finally had the time and energy to make it fresh and not frozen.” She said proudly as she finished making her plate. They sat down at the table together and he said

“This is nice.” In between bites

“It’s the chicken that Jess makes, she said you and Sam like it.” Alaina mentioned as she cut her chicken into a bite sized piece.

“Not what I was talking about,” he said “I mean just you and me actually getting to enjoy a meal together.”

She smirked

“Yeah, there hasn’t been a lot of that has there?” She asked and he shook his head.

“No, not really.” He said “Think we can try and make this a regular thing?”

She nodded and said

“I’d like that.”

“Me too.” He told her and reached across the table for her hand. She gave it to him and he squeezed her fingers in his. He turned her hand over, the diamonds on her rings glinting in the fading evening light. He looked at her and said

“Look I know things have been crazy lately, but thanks for hanging in there with me. I really appreciate it.”

She nodded

“Any time,” she told him “I’m glad to help where I can.”

“You’re a huge help,” he said “I was just letting you know, it isn’t going unnoticed.”

She smiled at him and he went on

“You’re a super hero; you make sure Ollie and I are taken care of and that everything in this house runs smoothly. I know it’s a challenge, but you’re amazing.”

“Thank you,” She told him “I needed to hear that. Also, it’s the least I can do; remember when you helped me study for my LSATs?”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head

“I don’t think any amount of brain bleach would ever let me forget that.” He said

She laughed

“Thanks to your help, I got into one of my choice schools and now here I am.” She told him “Now it’s my turn to do the same for you.”

He nodded and handed her a folded up piece of paper from his pocket.

“Is this a Maury moment?” Alaina asked “Is this gonna tell me I am the father?”

At first Dean have her a bitchy look and then it dissolved into laughter.

“Just read it!” He exclaimed as she started to laugh “You jackass!”

She took the paper from his hand and said

“You’d be so bored if I wasn’t around.”

He rolled his eyes as she opened it and read it silently.

Dear Mr. Winchester,

We are pleased to offer you a second interview at Parker and Son’s Trucking at 9:30 am on Tuesday (3/23) morning. We look forward to seeing you then.

Kind Regards,

Zachariah Motes, Senior Recruiter

Alaina’s mouth dropped open and she exclaimed

“OH MY GOD DEAN!” she excitedly hugged him around the neck. “Wait, when did you have a first interview?” she asked as she pulled back from him.

“Last Tuesday,” he told her “I didn’t wanna get your hopes up so I didn’t tell you. You’re not mad are you?”

She shook her head

“No, well I’m a little miffed, but it’s fine.” She told him “Do they know you’re not certified?”

He nodded as she sat back down.

“Yeah; they know,” he said “but they liked me so they gave me an interview. He said he felt like I was a good fit so that’s why he started the interview process.”

Alaina was beaming

“I’m so proud of you,” she told him “I mean it.” She cupped his cheek in her hand “I KNEW you could do it.”

He looked like he was about to bust from happiness.

“It doesn’t mean I got the job,” he said, trying to shrug it off “just that I got a second interview.”

“That’s further than you’ve gotten with anyone else,” she reminded him “and that’s a good thing.”

An easy smile drifted across his face.

“Thank you,” He told her and bit his lip, drawing a shaky breath “it means a lot.”

“What does?” She asked him, cocking her head to the side.

“That you believe in me.” He said quietly “I don’t think anyone has ever had as much faith in me to the extent that you have. So, thank you.”

She grinned at him

“I love you.” She told him and they kissed

“I love you too.” He answered when their kiss ended.

He immediately dove back in for another, which she obliged.

“Get over here,” he practically growled “sit that sexy ass in my lap.”

She chuckled as she got up and walked over to him as he scooted his chair back from the table. She straddled him, her hands on his shoulders.

“Like this?” She asked innocently

He bit his lip as his hands snaked up the back of her thighs.

“Mh,” he sighed and pulled her closer, her chest flush against his “yeah, that’ll work.”

They kissed deeply as her hands slid up to his neck and then the sides of his face.

“What do you want?” She asked as they kissed. He pulled back as he squeezed her butt.

“That depends,” he said and kissed her again “is my good girl gonna come out to play?”

A shiver ran down her spine as he clapped a hand over her butt. She cried out in surprise and pleasure and then nodded.

“I’ve been a good girl,” she told him “I wore this just for you.” She picked up the hem of the baby doll outfit and showed it off.

“Mh,” he moaned in appreciation “yes you did. Though I have to ask, what’s the occasion?”

“I just wanted you to come home and take care of me.” She said with a pout.

He gave her a boop on the nose with his fingertip.

“Can’t have my good girl taking care of herself when that’s my job.” He admitted and gave her a smile. He wrapped her legs around his waist as he stood up and carried her to their bedroom. He set her down and gave her ass another good smack, making her cry out.

“Trust me?” He asked her

“Of course.” She told him.

He walked her over to the bed, holding her hand as he did so. He made her sit down before holding her face in his hands.

“What’s the safe word baby?” He asked

“Red.” She told him

“That’s a good girl.” He said and kissed her forehead. He left her and walked over to her side of the bed. He opened the drawer and pulled out the eye mask that she wore when she went to sleep. It had a black, silk like material on the inside, the outside had blue material of the same quality and was embossed with suns, moons and constellations. He walked over to her and said

“That’s enough for you right now.”

He placed the elastic part of the eye mask around her head and then drew the material over her eyes, rendering her blind. In an instant, her other senses heightened. She waited until she felt the baby doll being taken off of her. She held her arms up to help him as he discarded the garment. The house had been filled with sunshine that day; so some of the sun’s remaining heat filled the room. It wasn’t too hot or too cold. He gently pushed her shoulders back and made her lay on the bed, her feet dangling over the edge.

“Mh,” he said as he bit his lip “you’re a sight sweetheart.”

She let out a shaky breath as she felt his finger tips gently ghost over her skin. He seemed to be every where and no where all at the same time. She squirmed in anticipation as he used his knee to part her legs further. She felt his body heat close to her as his lips barely touched her skin.

“God!” She moaned out quietly.

He tutted at her

“Behave,” he told her “good things come to patient girls.” She pouted and she heard him chuckle “Don’t make me tie you up baby,” he warned “I don’t want to be mean to you.”

She groaned and backed down. He could edge her like nobody’s business and she didn’t want to push him.

“Yes sir.” She answered

She felt him lean over her, feeling his mouth inches from hers.

“There’s my good girl.” He practically purred and gave her a slow and deep kiss. He took her wrists and placed her hands on the back of his head where she let her fingers roam through his hair. His tongue worked its way into her mouth, dancing with hers as she shivered with need.

“Something wrong?” He asked innocently

“No sir.” she answered as she felt his hands graze over her skin in the same, barely there fashion as before. His finger tips traced along the waistband of he boy shorts she was wearing as he bit her lip. She moaned and he kissed down her jaw and up to her ear.

“As much as I love bending you over the counter,” he said and kissed her “pinning you against the wall in the bathroom, having you on your desk at work or even in the back seat of my car, I miss taking my time with you.” He bit down on her earlobe gently and she cried out “And finding every little spot that draws those little sighs and moans out of you.” He kissed down the side of her neck and found the spot an inch below her ear and gave it a gentle bite.

“OH!” She cried out as he licked over the bite mark he’d just made and chuckled.

“There’s one,” he said as he worked his way down her body, palming her breasts as he kissed all over her belly, making her throw her head back.

“Dean,” she moaned impatiently “mh, come on FUCK ME already!”

He tutted at her

“Not good manners baby.” He said “Now, I have to spank you.”

She groaned, even she had forgotten what it was like for him to take his time.

“I’m sorry!” She said as he rolled her on to her stomach. He grabbed her ankles and yanked her down so that she was bent over the bed and her feet on the floor.

“MH!” He moaned as he took in the view. Her legs were spread open, wearing nothing but boy shorts and the high heels. “I could get used this view.” He yanked her panties down and off of her, tossing them elsewhere in the room. “Even better.” He said and let his fingers roll up he spine. She bit her lip, using all her will power not to squirm. “You get two spankings baby,” he told her “and I want you to count.”

“Yes sir.” She answered

His fingers roamed back down to the small of her back and then moved away. She felt his hand clap over her behind and she cried out

“AH! One!”

The second came in quickly behind the first and she cried out again.

“Two!”

She heard him let out a growl and he bent over her, his chest against her back.

“Good girl.” He said in her ear before giving the cartilage a bite. She let out a whimper as the sensation shot straight to her core, he straightened up and then said “Lay on the bed, on your back, head against the pillows.”

She scrambled to comply; when she had done as he asked, she heard the rustling of fabric and could only assume he was taking his clothes off too. This was further confirmed when she heard the zipper on his jeans come undone. She felt movement at the end of the bed, but she didn’t move. She felt his body heat above her as he used his hands to part her legs and he groaned in appreciation.

“Look at you, you’re all wet for me baby.”

She nodded and said

“Yes sir.” She answered.

He kissed from her hip bones, up her belly and over her breasts, licking and sucking on her nipples until they stood up and she was a moaning mess under him. His lips made their way up her collar bone and neck before reaching her lips. When they connected, he said between kisses

“You can touch me sweetheart.”

She let her hands slide through his hair that he had grown out a little bit, her fingers becoming tangled in his dirty blonde locks. He snaked his arms around her, pressing his chest up against hers, moaning as she lightly tugged on his hair. She ran her hands down the back of his head and neck until she reached his shoulders, their kisses becoming more and more heated. He worked his mouth down her body again until he was laying between her legs. He threw her legs over his shoulders as he licked up her slit, making her gasp.

“Oh god.” She moaned, drawing out each syllable as he held her hips.

“Be still and I’ll reward you.” He said as he kissed her inner thighs.

“Yes sir!” She managed to cry out

He used his tongue on her clit and then added in his fingers, pumping them inside her, alternating between fast and slow motions. She cried out and gripped the sheets above her head. Without her vision, she was forced to rely on her other senses, which seemed to be going haywire. He sealed his mouth over her clit and sucked hard, making her scream.

“Oh FUCK!” She yelled and fought every instinct in her body that told her to move, to thrust her hips up into his fingers and chase the orgasm that seemed to be just out of reach. She rocked her head from side to side, melting into a mewling mess as he continued.

“Oh my fucking god, DEAN!” She screamed, his fingers digging into her hips.

“That’s my good girl,” he cooed “staying still like you’re told.”

“Please, please, may I come? Please Dean, let me come!” She breathlessly begged and he groaned.

“Fuck sweetheart, you keep talking like that and I’ll let you have whatever you want.” He said

“Please, may I come?” She asked, still fighting to stay still.

“You may,” be said “and you may move.”

She shamelessly rode his fingers and tongue until her orgasm came crashing over her like a tidal wave, a mix of moans, screams and his name falling out of her mouth in quick succession. When her body relaxed, she felt him crawl up her body and yank the mask off. She groaned as the sudden intrusion of light, but when Dean’s face came into focus, she smiled. He looked pleased with himself as he licked his lips and fingers.

“That was hot.” She struggled to say between breaths and he nodded.

“Very,” He said and his eyebrows shot up in a suggestive manner “another?” He asked.

“God yes.” She said and he got on his hands and knees above her. He leaned down and tenderly kissed her, his cloth covered erection pressing into her totally soaked pussy. She ran her hands up and down his strong back, her nails scratching into his shoulders as he let out an almost primal growl.

“Baby,” he warned “this will be over quick if you keep that up.”

“I like driving you crazy.” She told him as she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and gave it a playful bite.

“God damn it woman.” He said and began lavishing her neck with kisses “Are you TRYING to get me to fuck you senseless?” He asked in her ear.

“Well,” She said and let out a surprised squeak as he bit her pulse point “I wanted to fuck YOU senseless but we seem to be at an agreement.”

He pulled back and studied her face for a second before nodding.

“On your hands and knees Mrs. Winchester.” He commanded, his green eyes piercing any ounce of self control she had left. She did as he commanded and heard him strip off his underwear. He spread her legs wide and pushed fully inside her in one stroke. She cried out and he hissed as his fingers held he leaned hips tightly.

“Fuck!” He yelled as he started to pump into her. She popped her hips up into him and he grinned “Mh, you naughty girl.”

“All for you handsome.” She said over her shoulder.

He bit his lip

“Oh, I want some more of that.” He said and released her hips. She continued as she started, popping her butt up into him as he enjoyed the view. “Fuck baby, all this for me?”

“Yes!” She cried “ALL for you!”

He yanked her up by the shoulder, her back pressed up against his chest as he slid an arm across her chest and used his hand to tilt her head up into the crook between his neck and shoulder. His free hand pressed into her clit, rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles as he mercilessly pounded into her. She ran her hands up her belly and cupped her breasts, tweaking the nipples between her fingers.

“There’s my good girl,” he rasped in her ear as he watched “oh fuck, my good girl’s putting on a show for me.”

She squirmed under their touch, crying out as her walls clenched around him.

“Fuck Dean, I’m close!” She yelled

“Don’t stop baby,” he told her “keep going.”

They both continued on, the sound of skin hitting skin becoming more and more harsh as she screamed. “That’s it, that’s-oh FUCK!” He yelled as he let go deep inside her, his hands gripping her tightly as he filled her up. She let out one final scream and exploded around him, her juices soaking his lap as they both panted. They fell on to the bed in a heap, both of them breaking hard and their nerves overly charged. They laid there until their breathing evened out and she rolled to face him. His arms were stretched out above his head and he seemed to be staring off into space.

“You okay?” She asked him.

He blinked and then looked at her, a lazy smile crossing his face. He let his fingertips roll down her shoulder; the setting sun casting a pink and orange glow on her skin. Here she was, the girl of his dreams that became the mother to their child and now she was his wife.

“Finally,” he thought “I have everything I ever wanted.”

He nodded “Yes,” He said “I’m fine, better than fine.”

Her grin mirrored his and she gave him a slow kiss, loving kiss.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I REALLY hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I did writing it. I’m truly pleased with how everything turned out!

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[blackdarkwritesarchive]

Hello 👋 if requests are still open could I get blackwatch!genji becoming obsessed with Reyes daughter, w/ noncon.

hAH I got way too into this my apologies-He had nothing, and wanted everything. I suppose that’s why he wanted me.Papi called me his everything- his sol, his luna, all his estrellas. That’s why he never wanted me near Overwatch. Especially Blackwatch. But being his daughter, it was hard to avoid the thing. -“I don’t want you working for this stupid organization, mija. You could get yourself killed, or worse.”“Papi, I promise. I don’t want to go into the field. But I want to work with Captain Amari, and the other military leaders on policy. You’re right- there’s parts of this thing that is stupid, but it’s the best chance we have.”“I shouldn’t have let you get smarter than me.”“It happens.”-It started with a feeling of eyes. When I saw the cyborgs eyes for the first time there was a fear in me. Bright red… what had they done to the poor boy to have that happen? I hoped my sympathy wasn’t too evident when I introduced myself, smiling and offering a hand. He stared at it before flashing me a look of disgust and walking away.I was pink in the cheeks. Jesse had pat my shoulder, squeezing it. “Don’t worry, ma’am. He’s not nice to anyone.”Nice. Not nice was one way of putting it.But back to the feeling of eyes. No matter where I went, those red eyes lingered. When I turned, I saw nothing. But there was a prickle at my neck. I dismissed it.Then slowly people stopped talking to me. Angela would turn the other way when I approached, speaking to the floor and not me. Other recruits would straight up run away from me. Jesse barely even talked to me anymore, which was depressing, because he always managed to put a smile on my face. And I still rarely saw the Shimada.But I felt him. I didn’t want to bother Papi with it. This happened over the course of two months. Until it happened.I was walking down the hallway to confront Jesse as to why he wasn’t talking to me. I had enough. I remember vividly what I was wearing, as many victims do: a pair of nice pants, a sweater. It was getting cold. All I remember is walking down the hall, then suddenly being in a supply closet, a vice grip on my arm. I opened my mouth in a panic but a rough, calloused palm clamped over it.“Scream and my shuriken is in your throat.”My eyes widened as they caught on his glowing red ones in the dim light. Fear filled my chest. The orbs floated towards me as I was slowly pinned against the wall. My hands scrabbled for something to grab onto, only to have them grabbed and yanked above my head, making me whimper.“I would think Reyes’s daughter would show more resistance,” he taunted, leaning in. He clamped my wrists in one hand and I heard a soft hiss. His faceplate must have come away, because I felt his hot breath on my neck. I shivered.“Daddy must be so disappointed in his little pet.”He shoved his hand down my pants and I squealed, squirming. The tightening grip on my wrists silenced me. I would look at those bruises later in shame.His metal fingers brushed over my clit and I squirmed again. Genji pressed a soft kiss to my neck. “I am relieved you’re so beautiful. If you were ugly this would be much less gratifying.”A digit slipped inside me and started thrusting, his thumb on my clit. I whined, shaking my head. My thoughts were a mess. “What… what do you-““Overwatch took everything from me I had left- they offered me a ‘new life’.” He scoffed and pushed his fingers in deeper, kissing down my neck now with little nips. “That was bullshit. They made me into a monster. I wanted to take them out. I wanted revenge. How lucky was I….” he tugs my pants down, letting my bare pussy be exposed to the cold air of the room. “…that Reyes’s daughter would start working here like a little yuppie. What better way to get out my frustrations than to make her mine?”“My father won’t let you-““Oh, your father will not know, unless you want him sliced to ribbons.” My eyes shot open to see those red eyes, somehow smug. He bit into my neck and I let out a groan, shaking my head to throw him off.“You-You wouldnt-““I would. What have I got to lose? After I killed him, I would kill everyone in my way. With you firmly at my side. Then at the last moment I will kill us together. Lovers.” His cold metal hand slid up my sweater and in the cup of my bra, pinching the nipple and rolling it. He alternated breasts, pinching and rolling and making tiny bruises. “Would you rather have that? Or show Daddy how strong you really are. That you’re worthy of Overwatch.”There’s another hiss. I felt something hot, a little spongy, poking at my entrance not nearly prepared enough. Tears prickled at my eyes. I shut my eyes tightly.“I will show him strength.”The cock, surprisingly human, pushed into me, making me cry out. His hand that was holding my wrists together clamped over my mouth as he continued pushing in, until I was on my toes and he was bottomed out. He ground his hips into mine, his pubic hair just barely brushing at my clit. I moaned out pitifully into his hand. I felt his hot breath near my ear as he nipped at the lobe. “Welcome To Blackwatch.”