#ive been working on this set on and off for more than a month now and i want to move on lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dckweed · 8 months ago

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BABYGIRL, jake "hangman" seresin

summary: in which hangman and his babygirl go on a wild ride with an unplanned pregnancy and finally admitting their feelings for each other and figuring out life in general as new parents

warnings: pregnancy, morning sickness, smut, like alot of smut in this one, christmas themed even though it's march!, ex boyfriend meets new boyfriend and it's not pretty. rooster becomes a cowboy.

hi my loves :) been a minute for this one huh? anyway, please remember that this series is open for requests!

series masterlist here, series playlist here.

thank @mamachasesmayhem for making our new header, shes the bestest !!

PART FOUR - the parents.

If you thought Jake was bad before the incident at the bar, he was even worse now. He hovered, and he followed, and when he wasn’t available to hover and follow, he enlisted his friends to do it for him and send quarterly reports back to him. You found it endearing at first, but as Thanksgiving came and went you were thoroughly annoyed and at wits end. It was one time, and you were doing so much better since your small stint in the labor and delivery ward of the hospital (that Jake declared you would not be giving birth in because he didn’t like the way the nurses talked to you sometimes), you had regular check ins with your doctor, and were taking medications and drinking as much liquid IV as you could to keep hydrated during spouts of being too nauseated to eat. You continuously told Jake that he didn’t need to have his friends watching over you on their days off, but he continuously did not listen to you (the Seresin Selective Hearing coming in full stride), so you were continuously apologizing to whichever poor squadron member was spread out on your couch or lingering in your kitchen when you would venture out of your bed in the morning. Your favorite days were Bob and Natasha days, Bob was always so sweet and gentle and calm. Though he still followed you with his eyes whenever you left his general area, you didn’t mind because never asked what you were doing or told you to take it easy. Even though you weren’t always hungry, you had taken to baking him something sweet the night before his days to be with you as a thank you.

Natasha was just straight up fun. “Fuck Jake.” She had said, and tossed you a pair of comfortable shorts and a shirt and had taken you on a walk down the beach on her first visit with you, and when you had checked her phone later when Jake texted her, you had found the string of lies she had been feeding him all day and laughed about it with her until he got home from work. “How was knitting, babygirl?” He had asked, setting his bag down with a kiss on your head. You grinned and locked eyes with Nat, telling him how calm and quiet it had been. She sent you a wink over his shoulder on her way out the door, and from then on out, she was officially your best girl friend.

You didn’t mind your days with Rooster either, but he was definitely a little more on edge, probably because he still had a rocky relationship with Jake and didn’t want to do anything to fuck it up, you couldn’t say you blamed him. Javy, on the other hand, was a carbon copy of Jake and the amount of times you had to remember to breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth as you tried not to beat him with a sock full of bars of soap was astonishing.

And if you thought Jake was bad during November, December was entirely worse the closer you got to christmas. If anything, he was stressing you out more than being sick was but you didn’t have the heart to tell him because he was obviously enjoying being able to take care of you, and who were you to say that he couldn’t? Your nerves and frustration became steadily worse as it got towards that time of the month, you ran around you and Jake’s apartment packing up both of your suitcases because knowing him he’d forget to pack his britches if you didn’t remind him to do it (he had in fact forgotten to pack his britches once on a vacation that both of your families had taken as teens). You also fretted and stewed about what you guys were going to tell your parents. Your small baby bump was no longer small and was kind of just..there. It would be noticed as soon as someone hugged you, and knowing Jake’s mama, she was going to hug you.

“Stop your worrying, babygirl..” He sighed from your left, his right hand coming to rest on your knee. You guys were crossing into Arizona, one more state left to go before you hit texas, and you were starting to get antsy. He had one hand on the steering wheel, slouched back in his seat as if his truck wasn’t outrageously big and hard to handle. “They’re gonna be okay..”

You bring your attention to his face, about to speak when you’re cut off by a loud snore in the back seat. You crinkle your nose in slight disgust, peaking behind you. Rooster was as manspread as the backseat of a GMC allowed him to be, his long legs spread wide and his even longer torso leaned against the door and seat as his head rolled against the window. He had had no other plans for the holiday, and you could see the loneliness in his eyes when he said it and gosh darn it you just couldn’t say no to those big sad eyes, so you invited him on the trip home. You thought your dad would love him, and so would Jake’s brothers. “He seems to have made himself comfortable.” You chuckle, turning back around to face the front. Jake only hums in response, his hand going up to rub your belly gently before he takes it away to place it back on the steering wheel.

Not too much longer after that you noticed a tall McDonalds sign a little ways off the freeway and your stomach grumbled loudly, and your mouth watered as you thought about how good a chicken sandwich and fries sounded. “Jake, baby, get off the freeway up ahead!” You say, whacking his bicep a few times in excitement as you bounce in your seat a little bit. “Pull into the McDonalds!”

Jake hums in slight disgust but does as you say, who was he to decline you of food when you were hardly ever hungry? He only hoped that you wouldn’t throw it up all over his freshly cleaned interior.

Two chicken sandwiches and french fries later, you were back on the road, dancing in your seat happily to whatever was streaming through the radio as you munched on french fries and an M&M McFlurry.

Jake was insistent on making the long drive to the Seresin Ranch in one go, he hated stopping, so what part of the drive wasn’t spent with you and Rooster goofing off with each other, playing weird car games and trying to rope Jake into them, was spent with you sleeping, which is what you were doing when Jake slowed his truck down to turn left onto a long dirt road, the metal archway just above the electric fence that slid open spelled out his family’s name in big bold lettering.

It hadn’t snowed just yet in this part of Texas but it was definitely cold enough to have frozen some of the water puddles that littered the well worn dirt drive so he drove carefully, both hands on the wheel just as you started to stir in your seat, your head having bounced off the window as he hit a particularly big pothole. You groaned, rubbing your eyes and your belly. It wasn’t going to be a secret too much longer, you realized as your bleary eyes focused on the lights of the ranch house just up ahead.

“Sorry Babygirl, I was trying to be gentle..” He murmurs, looking over at you with a slight pout tugging at the corners of his lips. You hum in response, stretching in your seat. You could make out your Daddy’s John Deere Gator the closer you got, and you started to get more nervous and excited all at the same time. You had told all of your family that two of you were together, you weren’t really sure how else you were supposed to explain your prolonged trip to California where you essentially moved in with him, but you both had been hesitant to tell them about the baby, knowing that questions were going to be asked, and that his Mama was going to want to fly out the moment you told her, and you just weren’t ready for that. You weren’t really ready for this either, but you knew you didn’t have a choice.

“S’okay,” You yawned, checking in the backseat. Rooster had started dozing off again too so you shook his knee, his eyes flew open instantly and he sat up at attention. “We’re home..” You say. The Seresin’s home was just as much yours as your own home was, and the same went for Jake with your house. The two of you were always at one or the other, practically living at each others houses in the summers, this was and always had been home, and if you wanted to be really sentimental and make yourself cry, Jake had always been your home too.

Rooster moves his head so it’s poking out between the two of you, over the center console of the truck. “Damn, Jake..” He breathes, taking in what bit of the ranch he could see in the dark of the night, the big texan sky giving little illumination tonight. You knew that his words would really be emphasized in the morning when he saw it in all of it’s glory. The Seresin Ranch was a working ranch, full of cattle and acres of land, whereas yours was only a personal ranch, your father living off of the land and making enough money here and there off of cattle sales. It was more than enough to raise you and support your mama, it had been a happy life, but life at the Seresin’s was just different.

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, Bradshaw.” Jake drawls, pulling his truck into the drive, right behind his mama’s much smaller SUV. The dome lights pop on overhead as he opens his door before pulling the keys out of the ignition, not bothering to honk the horn to alert them of your guys’ presence. He was more worried about getting you out of the car and into bed. It was damn near midnight by now, and you had only been dozing for less than an hour. He knew you and the baby needed sleep.

He comes around the front of the truck and opens your door in the time it takes for you to unbuckle and stretch in your seat, Bradley having gotten out as soon as Jake did. “Come on mama, lets get you inside..” When he wasn’t calling you Babygirl, he had taken to calling you mama and it did something else entirely to your already hormonally raging body and when it rolled off of his tongue in his own mama’s driveway, you just knew you were in for the longest christmas of your life because there was no way in hell you were getting down and dirty in Mama Seresin’s house. You take his outstretched hand and swing your feet out of the truck, landing on the running boards in the dark. “Easy, it’s a little wet.”

“Thank you, baby..” You say, reaching up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his scruffy cheek. He hums, a hand going to the small of your back to pull you flush against his body, or as flush as you can be with a round belly. “You ready?” You ask quietly, listening to Bradley unload the luggage from the bed of the truck.

Jake sighs, rubbing the small of your back. “Not really,” He says, pulling back to look down at you with a little grin on his lips. “But it will be better the faster we get in there and get the shock and surprise done and over with.” You nod in response and he simply kisses your forehead, going to help Bradley with the bags.

The boys are the first ones into the house, you follow them almost sheepishly, heat blooming across your face when you realize that this is it. Your daddy is in the midst of hugging Jake, giving him a “Good to have you home, son”, and shaking Bradley’s hand, an impressed look across his typically hardened features when he realizes how strong his grip is. “You can tell how good a man is by how strong he grips your hand.” He always says, and Bradley must be a damn good man because your daddy shakes his hand out when they pull away.

His eyes lock on you standing in the open door of the Seresin house, a home that was just as much a second house to you as it was to your daddy, and a grin spreads across his face. “Com’ere, honey!”He practically shouts, pulling you into him by the arms. Your belly presses against his as his arms go around you, and just as he’s rubbing your back he seems to notice it, hands gripping you by the shoulder he pushes you away for a moment, looking down. “...honey?”

Jake is by your side almost immediately, ready to step in if needed. “Sir, Mama, Daddy..” He says, addressing his whole family. His brothers are behind his mom, and they’re all looking on with interest. “We have an announcement..”

You keep your eyes on your dad, watching his face as you speak. “You’re gonna be a Papa, daddy..” You say quietly, wanting him to hear the news first. At first, there’s nothing, no sign of any kind of emotion on his face, eyebrows furrowed, until a grin breaks across his lips.

“You hear that?!” He shouts, raising your arm up in the air as if he had just won the super bowl. “I’m gonna be a fuggin, Papa!” A chorus of celebration is shouted throughout the entrance of the house, and one by one you hug your way through the family, finally coming to a rest by Bradley about half an hour later, your eyes drooping and shoulders sagging.

“Alright guys,” Jake says, looking up from his conversation with his mama to see you using Bradshaw as a support pillar. “It’s time to get her to bed, been a long day and a rough few months for her with the pregnancy sickness and all that..”

The next morning fares slightly less busy for you, though the whole family seems to be home and all eyes are on you when you venture out of Jake’s old bedroom at around eight thirty in the morning, way later than normally allowed on the ranch. You can’t help the blush that creeps up your face as you head through the large living room toward the kitchen. “Well good mornin’ Babygirl,” Jake’s brother, Nash, drawls at you, lifting his coffee mug to his lips with a wink as he passes you in the kitchen doorway. His boots were covered in dirt and it was clear that he and his brother had all been out working already. “Sleep good?”

“Yeah, actually.” You say, smile on your face as you walk into the kitchen, opening the fridge. “Morning, Mama..” You smile, looking over your shoulder at Jake’s mom. “You send Bradley out to work with the boys?”

She was handling a slab of some kind of meat, putting it in a marinade, probably for dinner tonight you realize. “He’s running cattle with Jake and Brian, doin’ a damn fine job of it too from what Nash just told me.” She says, turning to the sink to wash her hands before turning back to you just as you’re pouring yourself a glass of orange juice. “Can I see the belly?”

You laugh, but oblige, not even stopping to think about how you look much farther along than the amount of time that you’ve been with Jake as you lift your shirt, and walk around the kitchen island. Her hands go to her face and she grins happily before reaching out to touch your belly, warm hands gently caressing the skin. “It’s Dalton’s, isn’t it?” She asks, suddenly, looking up at you and you choke on the juice you were sipping on, stepping back away from her hands. “Oh relax honey, I’m not upset, honest..but do you think I was born yesterday? I’ve had five babies, i’m not stupid.”

“I, um..” You stammer, not sure what to say. You and Jake hadn’t prepared for this at all. You climb up onto a stool that sat at the Island, your head spinning. “Ma’am, I can explain..”

She waves her hand in the air, looking at you with noting but love as she smiles. “Babygirl,” It really was your God given name when it came to this family, you realize. “We all knew you were gonna end up together at some point in time, and if this is what brought you together then so be it, I could care less..my son isn’t stupid, I know he know’s that baby isn’t his and I’m just glad that it kicked you both in your asses finally…”

You spend the morning talking with her, helping her prepare the foods for dinner. You were honestly relieved that she knew the truth, and even more relieved that she wasn’t upset at all. You knew Jake would be happy too, he hated keeping secrets (especially from his mama).

Once you were finished in the kitchen, you made your way over to your family’s property, climbing over the fence like you used to when you were kids. It was chilly out, you wore one of Jake’s hoodies and a pair of sweatpants as you made your way to the burial site for your mama, spending a little while there before making your way to the house. Your daddy was gone, off in town somewhere so you meandered around on your own, finding yourself in your old bedroom, staring happily at the photos of you and Jake throughout the years that you had stuck to various surfaces.

He found you there an hour later, going through old things in your dresser drawer. “You look so damn good in my clothes, babygirl..” He says, pressing his lips in a chaste kiss just below your ear. You hadn’t heard him come in and he scared the bejeezus out of you, which makes him grin as he looks at you in the mirror, his hands going under the hem of his maroon aggies hoodie and straight to your stomach. “Been looking for you all day babygirl..”

You sigh happily as his lips find their way down your neck, his cowboy hat lifting off of his head as he goes. “You found me..” You breathe, watching him in the mirror. Your hormones were horrible lately, and you were always ready to go for him and it seemed like he could sense it on you, almost like a dog. You loved it.

“Uh-huh, all alone too..” One of his hands moves from your belly to your tit, his whole hand cupping it with a firm squeeze that has you leaning your head back against him, already putty in his hands. “Y’know..I always wanted to fuck you in here babygirl..” Your thighs clench at his words, his voice and musky smell from working outdoors all day flooding your senses.

“..please..” You whimper, pressing your ass back against his denim clad half hard cock, turning your head to capture his lips though he doesn’t let you. He catches your jaw in his hand, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“What was that, babygirl?” He asks softly, his other hand dropping from your tit to pull your hips back against him even more, rubbing himself against you. “You askin’ me to fuck you?” The hand that was still on your belly moves down lower, slipping with ease into the waistband of your sweatpants, or rather, his sweatpants, and into your panties, cupping your already disgustingly wet mound. “Yeah..you were askin’ me to fuck you.” He practically growls, voice a deep rumble in his chest.

You’re not entirely sure how it happens, but somehow you’re bent over your dresser, arms bracing yourself upright as Jake slams into you from behind, your head thrown back against his chest as his thick cock hits that spot that has you seeing nothing but white spots and saying only his name. One of your legs is cocked up on the top of the dresser, the position giving him better access to your pussy from behind, his hands gripping your hips with what you’re sure is a bruising strength but you couldn’t possibly care less because god, Jacob Seresin was fucking you in your teenaged bedroom and it was all you could fucking think about.

“Jake, jake, jake, oh-, my..ohhhhh” You sputtered out, your pussy clenching down on him so hard that he thought it was going to bruise.

“Yeah, I know babygirl, I know..” He grunts in your ear, lips marking up any inch of visible skin he possibly could. He felt fucking feral in that moment, but goddamn it was the best feeling. “That’s my fuckin’ girl..takin’ my cock so fuckin’ good f’me babygirl..so fuckin’ good..” There’s not even words leaving your mouth anymore, just filthy, lewd sounds as he continues to fuck you into oblivion, your legs going weak as a third orgasm hits you like a wall of bricks, your arms going weak to the point that you start to collapse.

“Aht-aht, I gotcha,” He’s chasing his own orgasm as wraps his arm around you, a hand at the base of your throat to force you to look into the mirror. “Look at you babygirl, look at how fucking sexy you look like this, huh?” You could swear there were tears coming out of your eyes, but you wanted to look but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from his eyes in the mirror, looking into the beautiful expanse of green as he fucked into you with wreckless abandon.

“I love you, i love, i love you..” You mewl, back arching as the overstimulation of your three orgasms starts to rockett though your body, you keep chanting it, not able to stop the flow of words even as you feel hot ropes of his cum paint your insides, even when he finally stops fucking into you and finally just holds you to him, cock still stuffed into your overflowing pussy.

“Holy fuckin’ shit baby..” He breathes, head dropping to your shoulder as you both catch your breath. You can’t help but let out a chuckle. “Look at you makin’ all my teenage dreams come true, huh?”

“Just like that song, right baby?” You say meekly, your body completely exhausted now that he had worn you out. He smiles against your skin, placing a loving kiss as he starts to finally pull out of you, his cock going flaccid. “M’sleepy..” You say, a yawn over taking you as you stretch, Jake having wandered off out of your room.

“Should probably take a nap, huh?” He says, a damp rag hanging from his hands as he bends down to help clean you up. You jump at the sensation, your pussy still sensitive. He places a kiss at your pelvic bone, looking up at you almost apologetically as you run a hand softly through his mussed hair. “Mama is making some kind of roast for supper, be ready in a few hours i think..” And then you remember your conversation from earlier. “What’s wrong with your face?”

“Jake, baby..” He stands up after helping you back into your sweatpants, ever the fucking gentleman he is. “Your Mama knows..”

“What do you mean?” He asks, wrapping his arms around your waist after placing his stetson back on his head. His eyebrows are furrowed, and as you look down at your belly and look back up at him he suddenly realizes. “How?!”

“She asked to see my belly this morning,” You say, resting your chin on his chest as you look up at him, arms wrapping around him. “She’s not stupid, baby..she’s only had a million of you boys, she knows how far along i should look if we were basing the baby off of how long we’ve been together..”

Jake hums, kissing your forehead. “Was she mad?” You shake your head, small smile on your lips. “Good, because I don’t like fighting with my Mama, but I would have if she was mad at you, at us..” You squeeze him then, realizing once more that this man truly does love you. “Let’s get back, yeah? I think your daddy is coming over too..”

Christmas with Jake’s family is amazing, you had spent weeks finding and wrapping gifts for each of his brothers, and even his Mama too. His daddy on the other hand, you just gave a smile and a kiss on the cheek as you slipped him a new canister of chewing tobacco, to which he grumbles a thank you and pats your belly. Your own daddy is almost brought to tears as you hand him his present, a gift wrapped scrap book (something your mama had been very into doing), some the pages full of your pregnancy journey so far.

“Honey, this is the best gift..” He says, eyes watery as he pulls you in for a big hug, planting a wet kiss to the top of your head.

From everyone in the family, you and Jake received alot of baby gifts, clothes and rattles and what nots..and from your daddy, a yellow quilted blanket, just the right size for a little baby or toddler with your mama’s first and middle initials stitched into one of the corners. You lifted it to your nose and inhaled, it smelled of her perfume.

“Daddy..” You voice quivers just as much as your lips, your eyes welling with tears. “This is perfect..” You say, showing it to Jake. “It was mama’s baby blanket, she always said that she was saving it for me if I ever had one of my own..” You wipe your eyes with a tissue that Jake hands you. “She must have been working on it before she passed, it smells like her..” You couldn’t even describe how much you missed your mom, how you wished you were going through this time of your life with her by your side, and even though she wasn’t here physically any more, this gift from your Daddy just made it feel as though she was.

The rest of the day is a blur, the family happily bantering as they all sit down for supper. Bradley had even been welcomed with open arms into the Seresin family, having been ladled with gifts of his own even though he was a last minute addition to the family. You had honestly never been happier, had never felt more at home and at peace than you had in that day. And unfortunately, it all came crashing down the next day.

You, Jake and Bradley had all decided to save the last day of your trip to pack up your old apartment. There wasn’t much that you actually wanted to take with, most of it just clothes and keep sakes, but it was enough to fill up a small uhaul trailer. You had already listed a bunch of your furniture on sale on FB Marketplace, and were meeting the buyers as Jake carried things down to the trailer.

About halfway through the day, when you’re freezing and tired and ready to take a nap, the devil shows up at the doorstep. “So, I see you’re back in town.”

You turn from where you had been packing a bunch of your books into a box, heart racing. Jake had gone down the road to the mexican restaurant to pick up lunch for you guys, you had had the sudden craving and who was he to deny it when you spent most of the pregnancy not eating? Bradley was downstairs, he had helped a nice lady carry your couch down and put it into the back of her pick up and hadn’t come back up yet.

“What do you want?” You ask, a hand going almost protectively to your belly. It was shown off well today, you had opted for workout leggings and a lululemon zip up jacket with a tanktop underneath. Your belly looked quite prominent and it seemed to be the only think his eyes were drawn to. “You shouldn’t be here, Dalton.”

He sniffs, dark eyes looking up at you. “I see you kept the bastard.” He takes a step into the apartment and you back up, nervous. “Where’s your precious Jakey?” He asks, looking around the corner and down into the hallway. “Word around town is that the two of you are dating now..”

“We are.” You say, swallowing thickly. “We came home for christmas and so I could pack up all of the stuff I want with me in california.” You think you hear footsteps coming down the hallway outside the door and you can only hope that its Jake or Bradley. “What do you want?”

“I want a word with the son of a bitch you cheated on me with.”

“I never-”

“I don’t think thats gonna happen, pal.” Bradley came around the corner into the doorway, leaning against it. He looks at you and you relax only slightly, his black Stetson pulled low over his brow. “I think you need to leave, the lady looks uncomfortable with you being here.”

“Oh yeah?” Dalton asks, turning to glare at him. “Is she fucking you too?”

“Dalton!” You half yell, catching his attention as Bradley stands up straight. “I never cheated on you, and I’m not fucking anyone besides Jake, not that it’s any of your business.”

The man scoffs. “Yeah right, you’re a fuckin’ whore..how else would you be pregnant.”

“Okay, it’s time for you to leave.” Bradley says, stepping into the room. His neck is red and you can tell that he’s angry.

“Oh, and you’re gonna make me?” He looks back at you, pointing to Bradley. “Who the fuck is this guy, huh?”

“He’s gonna be the least of your worries if you don’t get the fuck out of here.” Jake stands in the doorway and you immediately run to him, clutching his arm tightly. The situation was clearly growing tense and was starting scare you for real.

taglist:

@bellaireland1981 @sky0401 @memoriesat30 @bat-luna-cat @memeorydotcom @mamachasesmayhem @kmc1989 @justherebecausesafarisucks @mrowphine @djs8891 @stepheewdgirlie @roosteraloha

#top gun maverick #kara writes #top gun #jake seresin #jake seresin smut #hangman smut #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman fic #jake seresin fanfic

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nightsmarish · 7 months ago

Note

Hello luv <3 could you possibly write a prongsfoot or wolfstar x reader and they take her to get a new piercing?? maybe they accidentally keep hitting or helping her clean it and stuff :)))

Poly!prongsfoot x fem!reader (James Potter x fem!reader x Sirius black) | 900+ words

A/n: first of all: omg, my first rq, very very happy, thank you so much babes <3. Second: I am on a piercing ban rn and I am dying for the ban to break so this made me sooooo jealous

T/w: reader is suggested to have multiple ear peircings, needles, still learning to write James, Sirius works in a bar

★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡

"What if this is a bad idea?" You haven't even gotten out of the car and into the building when you start second guessing yourself.

"Love, you've wanted this for a while, I thought?" James is getting out of the backseat and opening your door on the passenger side.

"I do, but it's my first face peircing, what if it looks bad?" James kneels next to your seat in the car while you fiddle with your hands, eyes focused on them, rather than the worry on James' face that will undoubtedly make you melt.

"Doll, you're gonna look hot as fuck, I promise you that much." Sirius turns in the driver's seat to face you, left hand moving to the back of your head, stroking the nape of your neck. "And either way, if you get it and, after a few months, hate it, you can take it out."

You all sit there for a moment before you stop fidgeting and look between the two boys. "Sorry, I don't know why I'm freaking out now, ive been planning this for weeks now." You laugh, trying to ease the tension that's accidently set.

"It's okay, love." James gently grabs your face, turning you to face him and kissing you softly. "You still wanna get it?"

"Yeah, I do."

ᯓ★

You all manage to get through the door of the peircing shop.

You sit in the chair, Sirius holding your hand and James looking away because needles freak him out, but he was adamant he would be a form of moral support.

The piercer uses the forcep clamp and you're pretty sure the needle is in their other hand, but you've had your eyes closed for a while now. And honestly, based off the videos you watched, it's probably for the best you don't see the needle.

"Okay, breath in through your mouth." Their voice is soothing as you take in a breath, albeit a little shaky.

"And a deep breath out..." your hand forms a death grip on Sirius' hand as the needle punctures your nose.

"Good job. I'm going to put the jewelry in now; one more deep breath in." Your hand keeps its hold on Sirius, "and out." The jewelry swiftly replaces the needle. "Okay, and you're done."

While paying and leaving, your hand never leaves the boy until you reach the car.

"Let me see." James once again gently grabs your face once the three of you are near the car. "Dear Merlin, that looks amazing."

"Yes it does, and you took it like a bloody champ, doll." The other boy adds.

"Yeah? It looks good?"

"Obviously." He overlaps one of James hand and leans in to kiss you.

"Wait- no- no kisses right now." Both boys drop their hands from your face.

"Are you okay?" James brows are furrowed in concern.

"I'm- I'm just scared you'll hit it and it will hurt."

The paler of the two laughs a bit but looks at you so fondly you could melt into a puddle like the wicked witch of the west. "Fine- fine then. No kisses. For now."

ᯓ★

You're sitting on the couch when James gets home a few days later, book open as you read.

James toes off his shoes and walks behind the couch, tilting your chin to lean down and kiss you.

You instinctively let him, used to the little routine the three of you have. But dear fuck, you didn't consider how much it would hurt for his nose to hit your very sore one during a kiss.

"Fucking-" You pull back, hand going to your nose to shield it as if some invisible source is gonna sucker punch you.

"Shit- sorry, love, I didn't even think about your new piercing." James rounds the couch to sit next to you, putting your book face down on the coffee table to keep your place.

"It's okay, Jamie, really." You move your hand away and rake your nails through his hair.

"'M sorry anyway." He leans in again, this time kissing your hairline instead of your cheek.

Sirius had been up in the bedroom, having a night shift at the bar he worked at, so he was sleeping most of the day. But his shift starts in an hour, and he wants to at least see you two before he has to see drunk people for 8 hours.

Padding down the staircase in your townhouse, Sirius sees you and James on the couch, you with tears lining your eyes.

"Bloody Merlin, baby, don't try and kill the girl, prongs." Sirius jokes as he makes his way to the couch as well.

"I didn't do anything!" James whips his head around to Sirius, who cuts him off with a kiss before he can continue to defend himself any further.

"He kissed me and it hurt like a bitch." Your voice is slightly whinny, desperately wanting your shorter boyfriends attention.

"Oh, my poor girl, James is hurting you with his love again?" Sirius coos as he sits between you two, but it's more like on both your laps, grabbing the sides of your face to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I said sorry!" He attempts to defend himself again, "I didn't mean to."

"Sounds like it was an accident, huh, doll?" Sirius speaks in-between kisses on your face.

"Seems so." You murmur.

"Either way, seems only James can properly kiss me now." He grins at you before grabbing James' face, more aggressively than needed, and smashing their lips together.

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tootiecakes234 · 1 year ago

Text

Part 2

Warnings: cheating Katsuki (not on you tho, but with you, eventual smut next part)

Bakugo’s POV

" I'm not going anywhere with you. You're an asshole. All I've done since meeting you was try to be your friend but you seem to hate my guts." she was trying to speak calmly but the more she spoke the more pissed off she sounded.

"I don't hate you. Its just..." I tried explaining but there was no way for me to explain without sounding like a lunatic.

"Just what?? You know what, it doesn't matter. Its cold as shit out here and I don't want to fight with you. Please leave." She spoke to me but she was looking right past me.

"You're right. It is fucking freezing. Let me in and we can have a conversation like adults."

Oh that did it. She went from nonchalant to pissed.

"OH!! So now you want to talk like adults. Ive known you for months now and the entire time you've treated me like shit for NO! FUCKING! REASON!"

Her hands were moving and her brows were furrowed. She looked like she might actually be able to kill me right now and I should probably be scared or at least on some type of high alert but all I can think about right now is hot she looks when she's mad.

Ive never even seen her really irritated let alone this irate. The way her lips were moving and her tits jiggling because she's talking with her hands.

I was moving. I could feel myself moving but I couldn't register why.

"And another thing, I haven't even do- mmmph"

My lips where on hers and the only thought in my head at that moment was that I couldn't believe her lips were even softer than they looked. They melted right up against mine. She was perfection.

She was shocked at first but before I knew it her lips were moving against mine. My arms slipped around her waist and hers around my neck. She reached one of her hands into my hair and deepened the kiss. She tore a deep groan from my throat that I was surprised came out of me.

We started moving together and stepped inside her doorway. I used my foot to kick the door shut. As soon as the door closed she pushed me up against it.

Fuck, I could feel my dick hardening. Ive never had a girl be forceful with me in the slightest but this feeling, like she wanted me bad enough to take it. My hands started roaming.. everywhere. Everythingabout her was soft and malleable. Fucking amazing.

She ripped her lips away from mine to catch her breath but I wasn't gonna let this moment slip away. I did what I’ve been wanting to since I first laid eyes on her and pressed a kiss to each of those plump cheeks of hers. After that I pulled back as well to breathe. When I looked at her face again she was grinning at me and I laughed because of course she was.

Everything was so perfect... until my phone started ringing.

I was going to ignore it, but the ringtone... I fucking knew that ringtone. I'd set it just for her. I have a habit of not answering which is why I set it up, so I'd never ignore her calls.

Fuck.

"Are you going to get that?? Also what kinda ringtone is that? sorta embarrassing dontcha think?" She was chuckling but I couldn't find the humor in it.

What the fuck had I just done??

Im tagging everyone who commented on Part: @ssplague @thedondiva45 @plutodestr0yedme @sweetblueworm @bakugou-katsukis-wife @hwanin https://www.tumblr.com/neverseenbeforee

Thank you guys for the support. Working on part 3🫡🥰

Part 1

#bakugou x reader #imagine #mha fanfiction #bakugou drabble #drabble #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo headcanons #fluff #cheating Katsuki

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lumosinlove · 9 months ago

Text

Vaincre

June part iv

I’ll tell you the truth

But never goodbye

Remus thought about practice and all the sounds he wouldn’t be hearing again for a couple of months now. A din he desperately hoped would come again in the Fall.

The quiet bustle of the boys arriving. Yawns and some early morning groans. Bags being tossed down into stalls. Velcro and stick tape. The skate sharpener across the hall. The shivery sound of a bucket of pucks being scattered onto the ice. The slap of pucks and bodies on the boards rebounding in a high-roofed, empty rink. The ping of the goalposts. Bursts of laughter between drills. Showers stuttering into a hard, hot spray and the echo of voices off of tiles.

He wanted it all again. The crowds and video tape sessions. The signings and the chance to meet fans. The wins—even the losses. Even the press conferences. He wanted to see his best friends every day. He wanted to win.

They didn’t have a destination, but neither Remus nor Sirius tried to change that. They walked through the New York streets, downtown, where everything felt a little bit like a movie set. Most places were shut tight for the night, but it still felt alive.

Sirius looked handsome in the city lights. In his jeans and t-shirt. More importantly, he looked relaxed. More relaxed than Remus had expected, anyway.

“You’re calm.”

Sirius didn’t look over at him, but a small smile appeared on his face. “Maybe I just look it.”

“Okay, fair.” Remus squeezed their tangled fingers together. “I just meant that you don’t seem…”

“Miserable.”

“Well, sure. That word works.”

“I’m just…” Sirius looked down at him. “Not sure if it’s sunk in yet, maybe. You?”

“No. Not really.”

Sirius squeezed his hand back and Remus felt his engagement ring press into his skin. If anything good came out of this, it was that he would not be taking of his ring any time soon. He caught it glinting in the passing lights.

“New York really never sleeps,” Remus said.

“Neither do we, apparently.”

It was helping more than sleep, though—the walking. It was starving off the soreness they were bound to feel soon. He’d already glimpsed a bad bruise forming near his knee.

“Either way,” Remus said. “I like these walks of ours. It feels different than Gryf.”

“Ouais,” Sirius agreed. “At least we both have rivers.”

The next street they turned onto was not asphalt, but cobblestones. It wound and bent, going against the grid of New York that Remus had become accustomed to. He leaned his head back to look up at the lit apartments above. It might have been two AM, but he could see shadows moving around, or the colorful flickers of televisions.

“Did you talk to Logan?” he asked.

“Non, not really. I mean, on the ice I did. But I don’t know. I wanted to get out of there.”

“Yeah.” Remus sighed. He fought the urge to start talking about the game. Part of him wanted to know each and every single one of Sirius’ thoughts. The hit in the second. The odd, sloppy breakaway in the third. That last buzzer attempt.

“You want to talk about it don’t you,” Sirius said.

Remus laughed, then groaned, hiding it in Sirius’ shoulder. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

It was something special, to have someone who could read his mind. He closed his eyes, inhaling Sirius’ familiar scent and trusting him to guide him on the street. Sirius’ hand disappeared from his and wrapped around his waist instead. A kiss was pressed to Remus’ temple.

“Curb,” Sirius said softly, and Remus stepped down to cross the street then opened his eyes.

“Magnetic,” Remus said. “Do you remember them calling us that?”

“No one needed to remind me.”

Remus tightened his arms around Sirius’ hips and pressed a kiss over his shirt. “I know. I was just remembering.”

Their passes had connected so thoroughly this series. So well. It was awful, almost mean that the passes that stuck in their minds the most were the ones that had missed.

“How about we keep remembering…” Sirius began. “But how about we do it with fries and milkshakes.”

Remus looked up. The idea made his mouth water. “Yes. What made you say that?”

Sirius just smiled and jerked his chin forward. “Là.”

There was a diner on the corner. Many of the booths in the window were filled—Other people in search of late-night snacks. The neon sign out front read 24 HOURS and Remus could see a group of girls with milkshakes and a basket of fries in front of them.

He reached up to wrap his arms around Sirius’ neck and pressed a hard kiss to his cheek. “Love of my fucking life.”

He felt Sirius smile. Sirius reached for his hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing his ring. “Ouais, it’s true.”

He held the door open for Remus.

They were shuffled into a leather, worn booth and given giant seemingly endless menus. Remus found that he could hardly sit still. He kept laughing to himself. At one point, when Sirius gave him an amused, dazed look, he’d had to cover his mouth.

“You’re wild on adrenaline,” Sirius laughed.

Remus wondered if that was it. If adrenaline was what this was. These weird, surprising tight bursts of joy bubbling over in his chest. Surely he should be feeling low. He had just lost part of his childhood dream yet again.

Was adrenaline fueling the smile Sirius gave him when their two chocolate milkshakes and order of fries arrived? Did adrenaline cause Sirius to skeptically watch him dip a fry into the thick chocolate? Did it make them both laugh when Sirius tried it, made a face, and quickly switched back to ketchup?

Or maybe something had changed.

“You know, I always wanted to talk about games with you,” Remus said.

“Always?”

“You know. Before.” Remus brought the straw of his milkshake between his teeth. “I always wondered what you were thinking. Even when you were mean to me.”

Sirius groaned and covered his face with his hands. “Arrêt.”

Remus reached across the table and tried to pull his hands away. “I did! Sirius, don’t hide, come here.” He laughed when Sirius wouldn’t. “Sirius.”

Sirius let out an exaggerated sigh and pushed himself up from his side of the booth, only to slide into Remus’, arm along the back behind him and tight against his side.

“Wh…” Remus began.

Sirius leaned forward and stole the fry from Remus’ fingers with a short tug of his teeth. “You said come here.”

“That was my fry.”

“Too late.”

“Meanie.”

Sirius just made the sound that Remus associated with both him and Logan—a very Quebecois sort of tisk of disapproval (in Logan’s part, mostly jokingly aimed at Finn). Sirius’ arm slid from the booth to Remus’ shoulders and he kissed him. Remus tilted his chin up into it and let himself relax.

“Chocolate and potatoes?” Sirius asked as he dipped to kiss Remus’ jaw. “Really?”

“Sweet and salty,” Remus replied, trying not to let his eyes slip closed. They were in a diner.

“Weirdo.”

Remus hissed at a playful nip to his neck and Sirius pulled back. Sirius dragged his milkshake over to their side of the table and took a long sip. Remus could tell he was thinking. Remus had always been able to tell when he was thinking. Even when he hadn’t been able to figure out anything else about Sirius.

“Tell me,” Remus said.

“I wish I hadn’t broken that stick,” Sirius said quietly. He dropped his head back and closed his eyes. “Re…”

“I know,” Remus said. “I know.”

Sirius let out a frustrated sound and rubbed at his eyes. “Merde…I don’t know what gets into me. Well, I do…”

They had both been expecting them, but as the clouds of loss edged back into their peripheral vision, Remus sighed. Sirius tightened his arm around Remus and tilted their heads together. Remus closed his eyes as they took each other’s weight.

“Julian said it best,” Sirius said. “I wanted this for you.”

“And you.”

Sirius pressed his lips together. “I—yes.”

Remus arched a brow, confused by the conflicted look on Sirius’ face. “What, what’s that look?”

Sirius sighed. He smiled, just a little. A bewildered sort of smile. He hooked his fingers into the plastic fry basket mindlessly, the greasy paper crinkling at his touch. His eyes went a little unfocused as he thought. Their blue-gray looked so fair in the diner’s light. “I keep wondering why I’m not as upset as I usually would be. I keep trying to, like…” He moved his free hand outward in a small sharp motion, palm forward. “Push myself towards being that upset. Which is insane. Why do I feel guilty for feeling slightly okay about this?”

“I…” Remus nodded slowly. “I get that. I do. Hey, but that’s good. It’s good you feel okay, you wouldn’t have been okay other years. That’s why I said you seem so calm I’m…I’m fucking proud of you for it.”

“Ouais. I guess…” His expression turned almost shy. “I guess me too.”

That made Remus smile.

“What I mean is…I’m gutted.” Sirius picked up a fry. “I want to throw something, I want a do-over…I want to be angry at Logan.” He tossed the fry back, turning to look at Remus. “But the thing that I keep thinking about isn’t the game. Isn’t the Cup. It’s you.”

Remus’ smile faltered. He looked down. “Yeah? Well… you keep catching yourself feeling guilty?” Sirius nodded. “Well, I keep catching myself thinking that this was it. That I’m finished.”

“You’re not. Re.” Sirius’ hand cupped his shoulder and Remus turned his head to look down at it. He could have drawn his scar in perfect alignment even while not being able to see it. Sirius’ fingers, over his shirt, traced it perfectly, too. He watched Sirius do it once, then twice. It was so much apart of him that even Sirius could map it into his skin.

“Loops.”

“You almost never call me that anymore.”

“Well, right now you’re my teammate as much as everything else and I’m telling you you’re going to get there.”

Remus smiled. He felt the waver in it and so did Sirius. “Telling me as my Captain?”

“As your Captain,” Sirius confirmed. His fingers traced the scar again. “As your friend and teammate who watched you…watched you take every part of your life back from Fenrir.”

Remus surprised himself with a laugh and tears springing to his eyes. “Fuck. I did, didn’t I?”

“Ouais.” Sirius kissed a tear away. “You fucking did.”

“Oh my God,” Remus whispered as the tears pressed harder at him. He tucked his face into Sirius’ neck and Sirius wrapped him up tight. His voice was warm and familiar in his ear.

“I’m telling you as all those things, and I’m telling you as someone who loves you more than anything. Ever.” Sirius’ hand spanned his back, rubbing gently. “D’accord. I think that was most of my English for tonight.”

Remus laughed tearfully again, and then let out a quiet sob, shoulders hitching. “I don’t know if I’m crying because I’m sad or relieved or what.”

“I don’t know either,” Sirius said. His voice held a teasing note. “But our waitress looks like she’s going to bring us free pie.”

Their next laughs were realer, and Remus pulled back. Sirius made a soft sound and thumbed away the tear tracks on Remus’ cheeks. Sirius still looked tired. The strain of the game was still there, but there was a happy, weightless flush to his cheeks that Remus had never seen before.

Sirius dipped a fry in his chocolate shake and held it out to Remus. “Sweet and salty night.”

Remus let Sirius feed him the chocolatey fry. Sirius dipped his own in ketchup and popped it into his mouth. Remus looked over his familiar profile. He’d seen it in shadows and bright lights…he would see him soon in the lake house’s sunset.

“Next year, mon loup,” Sirius said. “You and me. It’s not the end.”

Remus nodded and let Sirius tuck him back under his arm. “You and me.”

Logan was leaning against the side of the rooftop bar between Luke and Alex, listening to everyone swap stories and enjoying the warm wind on his back. It was good to be with Percy and Will again. He was glad now, basking in the New York night, that he hadn’t ruined this year for himself—at least not the entire year. He was glad he could stand here laughing with them about old times. The desperate fog of sadness from his first month still haunted him, but it was easier now. That was all he could hope for.

His rum and coke was sweet, but not as good as it was when Finn made it for him. The chicken wings on the table were spicy, but not as balanced as Leo’s. What had started with promises of a big, wild night had mellowed out quickly. It seemed like the team was content to simply be together, basking in the high of the win. Logan was basking with them. Just a little. Even when part of his heart, part of his mind, part of everything that was him, was at home with Leo and Finn.

It was close to three in the morning and Percy was in full form, joking with him about all the girls trying to get his attention. It was true—their group had been clocked the second they came in.

“I swear that’s the sixth one,” Percy sighed, looking over at the bar. “We’re just stars in your galaxy huh, Tremzy.”

“It’s the eyes. Nothing’s changed since college,” Will added. “Thank God Finn isn’t here.” Will had stayed out with them, which was rare. Usually he went home to his family before long. Logan was happy he was here. He’d always loved how loud his laugh was. It reminded him of Freshman year, hanging out in the kitchen of OKN house with Finn and Percy, watching Will cook the house dinner. He’d been such a good captain. The best, besides Sirius.

“What would happen if Finn was here?” Saint asked. He was standing at Luke’s side. Luke kept stealing sips of his whiskey—and narrowing his eyes playfully when Logan smiled at him.

“He, ah, sort of forgets what flirting is,” Logan explained and Alex nodded, pointing at Logan like it would enhance how true that was.

“I mean, maybe it’s more like he’s too good at it?” Percy offered.

Logan laughed. “He talks to everyone and it’s only when they ask him for his number after like, twenty minutes of talking—”

Alex laughed. “Then he’s like, oh no.”

Logan tried for a Finn accent. “Oh, shoot, sorry, I’m actually…”

Will threw his head back with that wonderful, infectious laugh. “Wait, that’s so dead on.”

Logan smiled. “But it was so so wonderful getting to know you! Those pictures you showed me of your dog—Man, they made my night.”

“All right,” Saint held up a hand. “I get it.”

“Yeah stop, it’s creepy now,” Alex said. “That’s scary good. Maybe better than mine.”

Luke scoffed. “Dude, you can’t have a Finn impression. You are a Finn impression.”

“Whoa, whoa.” Alex held up a hand. “If anything, Finn is an impression of moi.”

Logan smiled. He glanced at his phone. One new message, but from Noelle telling him he was coming to lunch tomorrow. It was late.

“Hey, hey,” Percy said, making Logan look up. “I know that look…Nu-uh. Not yet.”

Logan raised his eyebrows, smiling. “Perc.” He put on the Finn voice again. “C’mon, give me a break.”

Percy shuddered. “Okay, I didn’t mean to open this can of worms. This terrifying can of worms.”

“Perc, he beat his boys out today,” Will said. “If he wants to go home, let him.”

Percy put his hands against his chest. “But I haven’t even gotten to the best part of my day yet!”

“How could we ever guess,” Saint said flatly.

Percy winked at him. “Sebastian…Cassie Baker smiled at me today.”

Logan laughed and finished his drink. “Ouais, I’m out. You can moon over my ex-girlfriend without me.”

Alex finished off his drink, too. “I’m done, too. This was fun, boys.”

Percy spluttered. “What? It is young. The night. The earth—is young!”

“I have two boyfriends in my bed, warm and asleep,” Logan said, pushing up from the wall. “And my bed is usually very cold and very empty. So. This was fun. Goodbye.” He looked over at Luke, knocking him lightly in the shoulder as a way of saying goodnight. Luke jerked his chin in reply.

“Tremzy.” Percy actually pouted. “No, non, no.”

“Ouais, yeah, ouais,” Logan said. Percy grabbed onto his arm and made a show of putting most of his weight on Logan to keep him in place. Logan did nothing to help him and Percy began sliding towards the floor.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Will dragged Percy back to his feet with a fond shake of his head. “You’re so embarrassing.” he nodded to Alex and Logan. “You two have a good night. Don’t beat yourselves up too hard. It was a good game.”

“Yeah.” Alex sighed but nodded. “It was.” He looked up and called over to the bar. “A round for these guys, Hank!” He tussled Percy’s hair. “My parting gift, Perseus.”

Percy sent them a mournful look, but looked willing enough to accept the drink. “Fine.”

Even Saint cracked a smile.

“That really was a good Finn,” Alex said as Logan followed him down the stairs to the main restaurant and out the door. A breeze picked up on the dark street.

“Merci.” Logan shivered a little in his thin shirt. “Are you calling an Uber?”

Alex sent him an unimpressed look.

Logan sighed. “You’re walking, aren’t you?”

“What do you take me for?”

“Fuck,” Logan said, but followed him.

It was like walking with Finn—Logan didn’t have to think about directions or finding his way around. He knew they lived near each other but would have to split up at some point. Alex would tell him when they did. For now, the air felt good against his skin and the silence was gentle. Sometimes he still felt like he could hear the game in his head.

“Finn asked me once to try and take the shot for you if I could,” Alex said.

Logan wasn’t surprised. Alex touched his elbow briefly to get him to turn left.

“Luke offered me the same,” he said. “It…it is what it is.” But that wasn’t quite right. “Non. It fucking hurts.”

“I know,” Alex said. “I’ve had that with Kasey. You want to apologize when there’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Logan half nodded, half shook his head. “I don’t know. I wish I had gotten to see Le before we left. I thought he needed space. I thought I needed space…I guess we did. I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” Alex said.

“Adrenaline’s wearing off,” Logan said. “I miss him.”

“You’re walking home.”

“I know,” Logan said, eyes down. “But I miss him.”

Alex’s hand appeared on his back, rubbing gently.

“Is Kasey doing okay?” Logan asked.

Alex was quiet for a long time. When Logan looked over, he was frowning down at the ground and fiddling with the small, dark diamond he wore.

“Alex?”

Alex guided him right. The light was red but not a car was in sight. “It’s…really hard for me to tell right now actually.” He stepped up onto a low wall and balanced for a few steps before jumping off again. The temperature had dropped. Logan thought it felt like rain.

“You’re the one who told me to talk to Finn when I was worried about us,” Logan began carefully, and frowned when Alex sort of flinched. “You’re not the type to not take your own advice.”

“I don’t know,” Alex said. “Sometimes I am.”

Logan supposed that was true enough. No one always practiced what they preached. Logan watched their feet as they walked, waiting for Alex to say more. They had fallen into sync. They were quiet for a while again. Alex lead him straight, then left, the straight on again. Logan knocked their shoulders together at one point. Alex knocked back.

“I’m not…worried about us,” Alex said suddenly. “Exactly… I just wonder—I wonder if I’m…” He rubbed a tired hand across his face as they avoided a puddle at a curb. Logan was beginning to think this was about the wedding. He didn’t blame Alex if it was. If Leo and Finn suddenly decided to get married, he’d crawl out of his fucking skin.

“You should tell them,” Logan said softly. He realized he was replying to unsaid things, but if anyone might understand even a sliver of Alex’s situation, it was him.

Alex’s face tightened. “Tell them what?”

Logan thought for a moment. “Whatever you want. Whatever you need to.”

“What I need to?” Alex repeated. “What I need is to show them—show them that I…” Alex gave a sharp shake of his head. Just as suddenly, Alex switched topics. “Thanks for coming out tonight.”

Logan looked up at him. “Alex—”

“I hope—did I force you? I’m sorry, Tremz.”

“What? Non, non. I…I’m glad I came. Really, I am. But—”

“Okay,” Alex said. “Just checking.”

The streets turned to cobblestones and took on curves. There were still a few apartment glowing. Logan liked that. It felt like Gryffindor. There was always a light on. Finally, Alex stopped.

“You’re right,” Alex said. “I’m left.”

“Oh, I thought you were agreeing with me.” What he meant was you can talk to me. “Al, can I do anything?”

Alex smiled. It was a little tight, but he gave Logan a playful shove in the right direction. “No. Thanks, Tremz.”

Logan didn’t believe him, but he didn’t know how to push either.

They stood there in front of each other for a moment. Alex huffed out a laugh and hugged him hard. A hug Logan associated with Finn, with Finn’s parents. They both did the little shoulder pat that their mom hugged with, too. It made Logan smile.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Logan said.

“Yeah,” Alex replied, muffled by Logan’s shoulder.

When Logan had crossed the street, he turned. He felt like he hadn’t tried hard enough, and he’d already made that mistake once tonight with Leo.

“Mais—I’ll say one thing?”

“What’s up?” Alex nodded, waiting on the corner.

“What you said earlier,” Logan said. “In the locker room and just now. About showing them. That we can be both lovers and—” He almost said enemies. “Opponents.”

“The…oh. Yeah?”

“I think…I think I won a hockey game today,” Logan said. "And I love my boyfriend. If I had lost a hockey game, I would still love my boyfriend. When there are no more hockey games, I’ll still love Leo. And if someone, some fucking reporter wants to link those two things, then they can go to hell.”

Alex was shades of blue and silver across the narrow street.

Logan shifted, a little nervous now. “I don’t think…I don’t think we have to show anyone anything. If it’s okay for me to say…”

Logan thought of the hell this year had been. He thought of Leo, holding him when they’d found out he was going to New York. Leo, tumbling into their living room in the middle of the night when Logan had come home from All-Stars. Leo and his soft kisses in the bright hospital hallway while they waited to see if Finn was okay. None of that was a show. Leo might like to put on a performance on the ice for the fans, but everything else about him was instinct, real and pure. Logan admired that. He’d put up fronts for Finn for so long, fronts that he was still tearing down.

“You don’t have to show Kasey and Nat anything. Not, like, a happy face or that you’re okay. That’s not…” Logan shook his head. “That’s just a bad habit, Alex.”

Alex tilted his head up to look at the faint moon over the city. It wasn’t full, but it was getting there.

“Tremzy…” Alex said slowly. When he smiled, the moonlight lit up his face. “You know what?”

“Quoi?”

“You’re fucking right.” Alex put a hand to his chest. The necklace glinted between his fingers. “You’re so fucking right.”

Logan let out a breath. He smiled back. “Yeah? I don’t know if that made sense in English.”

“Yeah.” Alex’s voice cracked, his brown eyes were bright with tears, but when Logan made to step forward he waved him off.

“Well,” Alex said. “I’m going home now.”

There was a lot of relief in that word. So much that it made Logan smile and feel choked up, too. “Me too.”

Logan tried to open the door as quietly as possible, going slow and expecting darkness.

Only, the lamp above his couch was on, turned down to the dimmest setting, and Finn was looking at him from just below it. He was wearing his faded NASA t-shirt and sweatpants, socked feet crossed on top of a pillow. His sling was draped over the back of the couch, his arm resting easily atop another pillow which also propped his book up.

Sleeping against his chest, was Leo.

Logan wanted to crumble to his knees.

“Oh,” Logan mouthed. He kept perfectly still.

Finn folded the book closed silently. He had his glasses on. Hi, his soft eyes said, and then with a glance down at Leo and a palm on his back: Don’t worry, I’ve got him.

Logan set his keys into the bowl by the door as quietly as he could. Leo. He toed his shoes off. Leo. He walked over to the couch and knelt beside them.

“You are so bad at sneaking,” Finn whispered—so quiet. “Did you have a good time?”

“Ouais,” Logan whispered back. He settled a palm beside Finn’s on Leo’s back, eyes trained on his sleeping face. He looked so peaceful. Logan leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss over his t-shirt. He looked up at Finn so he could read his lips more than hear him. “Had a good walk with Alex.”

Finn’s eyebrows raised, surprised. “Oh? Alex…is very good to walk with.”

Logan nodded. He would tell Finn he was a little worried tomorrow.

“Is he okay?” Finn asked softly.

“He will be,” Logan said. He nodded towards Leo. “And ours?”

Finn rubbed a slow hand down Leo’s back with a sigh.

“Lo…”

So far, Leo hadn’t stirred, but at Finn’s touch Logan felt the change in his breathing. Logan could always tell when Leo was awake. Slowly, Leo’s eyes opened. His cheeks were flushed. He regarded Logan sleepily for a moment. Logan felt Leo’s muscles tense as he remembered.

“Hi,” Logan said softly. “Hi, Le.”

“You—” Leo began, but his voice was hoarse and he had to begin again. “You should be out celebrating.”

“I did,” Logan said. “But I want to be here. Merde, Le, I wanted to be here fucking hours ago, I…” Logan shook his head. He was upset with himself, more so than he’d allowed himself to realize earlier tonight. “I should have come and see you. Soleil, I didn’t know…I didn’t know if you’d want…God, I love you, what can I do? Is there anything?”

Tears filled Leo’s eyes. He gave his head a small shake.

“Okay,” Logan said. Was he allowed to reach out to him? Did Leo want that? “Okay…”

“I’m going home with my parents tomorrow for a couple days, Lo.”

Everything in Logan froze. He looked up at Finn, whose eyes told him that this was what he had been about to say.

“Quoi?” Logan breathed. All the tension came right back into him. The fizzy, heavy quiet drained right out of his head.

“Lo,” Finn said, slightly warning.

It knocked him off balance, sitting back on his knees, but Finn reached out and grabbed his hand. His brown eyes were firm, clouded with racing thoughts and emotions. Relax. Think. Wait. Finn’s fingers squeezed around his own. Think. His thumbs made slow tracks across Logan’s knuckles. It’s okay. Think about him. Think about why.

Slowly, slowly, Logan pulled himself back towards Leo, who was watching him with exhausted blue eyes.

Logan let out a breath, he squeezed Finn’s hand then dropped it and combed his fingers through Leo’s hair. “I…okay. Okay. Whatever you need, Soleil.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to see you play—”

“Shh,” Logan whispered. “Le. Leo. It’s not about me. I know I just—um. Freaked out for a second. I’m sorry. We’ve had enough of that this year, ouais?” He leaned down to kiss Leo’s temple. “Home is always good.”

Finn closed his eyes at that, tucking his nose into Leo’s hair. “He’s right, Le. I…he’s right.”

Leo’s first sob was quiet, just a hitch of his chest, but the second came out in a harsh breath. He turned his face towards Finn’s chest, eyes squeezed shut.

Logan felt Leo’s pain right in the center of his chest. “We love you. So much. Le…” Logan wrapped an arm around his back, and Leo reached out a hand to hold his.

“We do,” Finn whispered. “We’re right here.”

“Always,” Logan said. “And—Le, you played so well tonight.” Logan’s throat closed up and he had to pause before he could talk again. “And I’m so fucking proud of you. You’re so talented and this year has been shit. It’s been absolute shit, Le.”

“I really—love you, I just—I need…” Leo gave up trying to talk, just pressed closer to Finn.

“You don’t have to explain,” Finn said soothingly. “We understand.”

“Ouais.” Logan nodded. “I also would—would want Eloise’s chicken soup.” Logan wiped his eyes clear of tears so he could see Leo better. “Even with full spice.”

It startled a laugh out of Leo, crying and blocked-nosed as it was. “Full spice?”

“Ouais, I would. I swear it.”

“Me too,” Finn said. “It’d make me cry but me too.”

Outside it started to rain. A crack of thunder and the force of the drops doubled. Logan didn’t realize he’d hardly looked up until the second clap of thunder.

“The storm,” Leo said.

“Can’t hear it,” Logan replied.

Leo took a few breathes, then picked up his head from Finn’s chest and looked at him.

“Hi, pillow.”

Finn laughed softly. “Very happy to be of service.”

“Didn’t think I was going to be able to sleep at all.” Leo pressed a kiss to Finn’s chin and groaned a little as he pushed himself into a sitting position, like he hadn’t moved in ages. He let out a long breath, rubbing at his eyes.

“I love you guys, too,” Leo said. He reached out for Logan. “The ice…Seeing you on the ice…”

Logan shook his head. “I know.” He pushed himself up onto the couch when Leo made free the space on his other side. Finn sat up and slipped his sling back over his head to cradle his arm. He sat facing them criss-crossed and Leo touched his face. Finn kissed his palm.

“Did you guys eat after the game?” Logan asked.

Leo shook his head. “Finn wanted to get me something but…I really just didn’t want anything.”

“You should have something,” Logan said, then he leaned forward for a quick kiss. “Wait.” This. This was something he could do. “Don’t move, either of you.”

Logan moved around in the yellow light of his kitchen with hard-fought for ease. He cracked eggs into a bowl. He poured a splash of milk in, the way Leo had taught him. In the pan, he kept the heat on low, turning the eggs slowly so their soft curl didn’t break. He turned the heat off while they were still just a little runny, slid them onto the toasts—which he had managed to time perfectly—to let them finish cooking while they melted in butter and a few passes of shaved cheddar. Four shakes of chili flakes. He went to the fridge and found the fresh mint that Leo had bought for him. He waited a moment for his kettle to boil, then clumped the mint into three mugs and poured the hot water over them. A little drizzle of honey in Leo’s, a big drizzle in his, none for Finn.

In the living room, Finn and Leo were dozing together. Outside, the sky lit up with lightning and both of their eyes opened. Leo held out his arm.

“You’re back.”

“Of course,” Logan said.

Leo looked over at Finn. “See?”

Finn shuffled Leo closer under his arm. “I do. I do.”

Logan braced himself, setting the tray of Leo’s eggs and the three teas down just in time for the thunder to make him flinch. Leo’s eyes were clearer now. He smiled when they saw the food.

“Aw, Lo…”

“It’s nothing like you can do,” he said. “But I love you.”

I love you, love you, love you.

He settled the plate on Leo’s lap and watched as he took a bite, humming as he chewed. He held out the toast for Finn. Another crack of thunder rang out, but Logan hardly heard. He was warm in one of those softly glowing apartments he’d seen from the street. The sun was going to rise soon and Leo and Finn were tucked close to him. Their faces were tear-streaked, noses still sniffling, and it wasn’t quite their summer. Not yet.

Outside it was raining and thundering, but inside it was beginning to feel to Logan like their storm was passing by.

#vaincre lumosinlove #coops #hockey au #finnlo #sunfish #lelo #o'knutzy

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elephant-in-the-pride-parade · 5 months ago

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Prodigy Recap

I love it I love it I love it I could watch it forever

I'm truly irrevokably in love. I'm done for. I'm probably going to rewatch this all month before I am satisfied I've fully taken it all in. I NEED to rewatch Mindwalk and Supernova again ASAP because knowing what I know now about the memories HJ had just recovered. I know it is going to wreck me to watch her in those episodes with S2 in mind.

My ship HELD HANDS GUYSSS. HE TOLD HER SHES HIS HOME. HE DIDNT FEEL LIKE HE BELONGED ANYWHERE UNTIL THEY MET. SHE BROKE TIME FOR HIM AGAIN AND AGAIN. HER EYES GOT SO BIG! THAT HUG LOOKED SO GOOD. (I'm getting off topic a lot but i need to get the "my ship is canon - in a way i don't hate!!!" fangirling out of my system.) breathe. breathe. okay gonna keep going.

Its gonna take me a few more watch throughs to fully wrap my head around the paradox. And around how you fit a humpback whale in the original ISS Voyager (seriously. has that been there the whole time? does OG Voyager have a whale? was she retrofitted in the AQ? did Mirror J steal a whale from 1996?) And if that timeline where KJ was lost on the infinity means shes also trapped on future solum with Chakotay or just dead. and and and... so many things. so many fic ideas. so many plot bunnies

(wait no -- shoves the plot bunnies away -- go away. not ready for more wips yet)

There. was. so. much. that I loved. it was such an ambitious story to tell in 2 seasons and oh my god, i really feel they mostly pulled it off. They brought back Voyagers legacy characters and put them to work in a plot that fit them, and it was such a joy to see them again. They stay true to who they were on Voyager - thoroughly wonderfully 100x better than on Voyager in Chakotays case. and i really believe theyre the same characters with a few more years of life since ive last met them.

And the new characters too. I love Dal and Gwyn and Rok and Murf and Zero and Jankom and Maj'el to pieces. (Majel!!! is such a perfect tribute!) I want to see so much more of Noum and Tysses. I am in tears over Adreek. God how much i want Season 3 just to see how their stories continue.

But I think... what strikes me most and what I appreciated the most was how much this show wholeheartedly respects its fans!!!

It never dumbs things down or babies it's younger audience. its very mature for a kids show. it is a great introduction to star trek and the universe without over explaining. there are storylines in these 40 episodes that would be right at home in TNG or Voyager. it's really more of a fun for the whole family show than a kids show in that way. (it says something that it's the first "cartoon" my parents have ever cared for and they are watching it wholely for themselves.) It really manages to tell the story in a framing thats aimed at kids without taking anything away from the story its telling for all ages.

And it's adult audience...

I worried about how it would feel to have enjoyed such a rich fanon universe in the 3 decades since the show ended. There were advantages to having a ship with very little canon. the fan universe thrived on how much room there was to work within. After that - having headcanoned and written and imagined so many futures for the characters - I feared having some new canon come in and make a new story for them that would invalidate so much if that imagination, or create something so unsatisfying or rigid or antithical to their last canon encounter that nothing new would be inspired by it. (P/C in Picard was like that for me)

Prodigy didnt do that. Prodigy made no grand sweeping canon for the years in between Voyagers homecoming and the new show. Prodigy didnt shoe horn any character into a rigid relationship status. Prodigy picked them up, set them on a new adventure, sprinkled in tantalyzing new details, and left a wealth of room around the events of the season and the relationships between the characters for so much fan imagination to thrive. The possibilities before and during and after the seasons for the characters are bountiful and perfect for imagining their other adventures. I couldnt have imagined my ship becoming canon (or maybe affirmed by the canon is a clearer way to put it) in a better way.

And then they went and added Tank Top Action Janeway in there as a treat.

Truly a masterpiece. i'm so grateful for this show. i hope it gets the 3rd season it so dearly deserves.

#star trek prodigy #prodigy spoilers #prodigy

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redactahoe · 9 months ago

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old friends die hard pt. 1

A/N: heeey so ive been working on this for awhile and am so glad the first part is done.

summary: for the past 6 months treasure has been… off. Porter didn’t know how to describe it but something was going on with his favorite human and he didn’t know how to help. The last time they talked was 3 weeks ago and since then they haven’t been answering his call. So porter decided the next best thing was to drop by unannounced.

Tw//: talk of missing memories and nighmares (kinda), porter is so soft for them its not even funny, this is also in the not so distant future where porter and treasure is an establish relationship, cussing, treasure yells like once

codes: (T/N) = treasure's name and (D/N) = darlin's name

The first but last thing Porter had expected to see when entering his human’s apartment was the living room to be void of all light save for the glow of his treasures laptop screen. Open and set in their lap as they sat on the couch, a weighted blanket resting on their shoulders as the skrunkly little cat they found on the street a month ago slept behind them on the back of the couch. a forgotten bowl of what he can assume is some form of soup sitting on the coffee table along with a half empty mug of tea in front of them.

Glancing at his watch as he walked closer to the couch, it read 3:30 AM. his gaze lifts back up to get a better look at treasure's face. Their usual dark circles under their eyes somehow had gotten darker since the last time he had seen them. Their eyebrows were scrunched up in a mix of frustration and concentration, lips pressed into a deep frown.

“Treasure, when's the last time you've actually gone to sleep and had a proper meal?” Porter asked, having a feeling that the answer wasn’t going to be anything he liked.

“I don’t need to sleep right now.” they frustratedly almost angrily mumbled out.

“(T/N) im being serious…” Porter came closer, leaning over the couch and careful no to disturb the sleeping feline. He noticed that There were several pictures strewn across the couch and coffee table, some were in frames and some weren’t.

The picture propped up against treasure’s computer was of a tiny 10 year old treasure, In the front yard of what could be assumed to be their childhood home. They were lying on top and wrestling with another kid, pulling a smile onto the kids cheeks as they tried to push (T/N) off of them, clearly enjoying themselves. Porter immediately recognized that kid as (D/N) or Tank, Sam's mate and the wolf from the Shaw pack.

Porter picked up the picture to get a closer look “did you know them, treasure?”

“I DON’T KNOW!” treasured screamed out and through their hands up in exasperation before dropping them to bury their face in them, digging their palms into their sockets. They were both silent for a minute before (T/N) finally spoke up in a quiet and defeated tone.

“.... I'm sorry i yelled at you, it's just- I've been so stressed and so confused lately. It's been driving me nuts!” their hand moved to hold the side of their hand while the other stayed to rub the exhaustion out of their eyes.

“What's going on my love?” Porter's voice dropped to a low concern as he rubbed his treasures shoulders trying to sooth them as best as he could.

“Sigh, recently I've started to have these…. I don’t know how to describe it but every time i close my eyes I see them” treasure waving their hand in the vague direction of the childhood photo.

“But there's always something wrong with them, with their voice, with their face.” “Their face is always blurred out and their voice is always distorted.” “It feels more like someone tried editing them and everything related to them out of my head more than me just forgetting them or not knowing them.”

“How long has this been happening?” Now the porter was really concerned, It sounded like a memory wipe done by the department was wearing off. He’s heard of it before, it was a rare phenomenon that happened to the unempowered that were wiped but re-exposed to the empowered. It didn't happen often but when it didn’t it never ended well for the unempowered in this situation, in the three recorded cases the department has published it always ended in insanity and a trip to and a permanent stay to grippy sock land or the psych ward for those who are boring out there.

“Ever since I met you”

“What was that?”

Treasure threw their head back in exasperation “ever since i met you.” they said a little louder, they didn’t want Porter to think that he was at fault for their dilemma. It wasn’t, it never was, it's just that ever since they've known him their memory started acting up. It's like he jumped started buried memories to start resurfacing.

“But if it's been happening for that long then why is it now becoming a problem?” Porter on the other hand was more concerned about the fact this has been happening for a better part of a year now and (T/N) hasn’t said anything about up until now.

“ because only recently have the faces started to clear up, only recently have I've been able to make out any sort of facial features! And when I was able to see a face it sparked even more memory and caused me to rip apart my closet to find these pictures to make sure I wasn't going crazy.” “I can recognize the faces as someone i knew, someone i cared about but their voice and more importantly their name i can't get down, so I've been trying to find a solution but i keep running into dead ends.” (T/N) gestures to the laptop for Porter to take a look and well.. It was nothing but some Pseudoscience bullshit about crystals and shit that would most definitely wouldn’t help.

“Okay, your-” porter stops speaking for a second to shut the laptop before continuing “-going to get up and go shower while I am going to clean up and make you something proper to eat.”

“But-”

“No buts, go.” This was not something porter was going to debate with the human at all.

So with the end of that ‘argument’ (T/N) got up, stretched(much like a cat, porter would like to add) and padded off to their apartment's shower, their fluffy companion following soon after.

As soon as his treasure was out of ear shot, porter pulled out his phone to call the only person he knew who could possibly help.

#redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted audio #redacted darlin #redacted fanfiction #redacted porter #redacted treasure #redacted verse #redactedaudio #redactedasmr #redacted solaire clan #redacted shaw pack

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quigzahhutt · 2 months ago

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mpreg (does that count as a kink?? im counting it) and sargebon bc its all ive been thinking abt lately but i cant express it well enough to write it and i know you will do it justice

mpreg and/or breeding is a popular request today ... and i am not complaining :)

sargebon mpreg smut (kind of?) read at ur own risk, u have been warned

The first press of Alex's cock into Logan's hole is unbelievable; they've done this countless times before, but knowing it's different this time is... overwhelming.

Logan had pulled him aside a few months ago, slid his left hand into Alex's right, and the cold metal of his wedding ring against Alex's fingers where they were laced together was dizzying; it still is, honestly.

It still feels like a dream to think about– the fact that they're married and living together in a ritzy flat in Monaco. They're officially an item, no longer just a couple, a pair of adults who don't know what they're doing, teammates.

And as he was stuck in an emotional haze, caught up in the touchy feelings of having a husband, Logan had asked about having kids, and Alex suddenly felt like he was back in F1, taking an ice bath in a silly inflatable pool, practically naked in front of four different cameras. Completely and utterly out of his depth.

They had a conversation about it– numerous conversations, actually, long ones about the logistics, the realities and fantasies of it all, before eventually coming to a mutual conclusion.

And now here they are, tender bodies tucked against each other, filling the gaps and missing places of the other person, skin touching skin as the sun sets out the window.

Although, it is overcast out, so the sunset isn't anything special, but it feels like... like Alex knows they don't need it for this to be significant, that this is special all on its own even if the sky outside is an ugly color.

The warmth of Logan's hole is suffocating without a condom; Alex almost feels like he can't move or else he might hurt himself, that he might pull out and find the head of his cock charred and burnt.

"Alex- move," Logan gasps out, wrapping his legs around Alex's torso and fucking himself back on his cock.

It works, and Alex is pulling out and thrusting back in like it's his first time ever doing it; the movement is choppy, and it punches a groan from his chest, something that steals all his breath and leaves him heaving.

Logan isn't any better off; he's breathing just as heavily, and his fingers are digging into Alex's shoulders like he thinks he might disappear, leaving behind an crescent indentation of his fingernails.

"You okay down there?" Alex huffs, the end of his sentence swerving off into a breathless chuckle as he rests his forehead against Logan's, and the smile he gets in return is something he wishes he could tattoo on his brain for the rest of his life.

Because it's absolutely beaming, full of teeth, and lazy, and it's the most relaxed Logan has looked in years.

"More than. How couldn't I be when you're about to knock me up?" Logan says, still smiling with ease.

And he says it so naturally and it feels like a punch to the gut; the realization that Logan is made for this, made to be with Alex, made to be his, made to be pregnant and a mother and its all so overwhelming.

Alex has to tuck his face into Logan's neck because he feels like if he looks into his eyes any longer he might burst into flames, or maybe say something stupid and ridiculous that would definitely kill the mood immediately.

Instead, he steels himself, hikes Logan's legs up higher against his hips and then plants his arms on either side of his head.

"Are you ready?" Alex asks breathlessly, drunk on joy and a brand new feeling blooming in his chest, something he's never felt before.

And Logan just looks up at him, the skin around his eyes crinkled in the way that he loves oh so much, and the expression on his face tells Alex everything he needs to know.

this prompt completely ran away from me I'm so sorry if this isn't what u were looking for anon😭😭

#married sargebon mpreg sex (barely) uhhhh #idk what happened guys ....#mayb im manifesting ok #alex albon #logan sargeant #sargebon #lolex #progan #im putting the progan tag on this yeah #once again this is BRAVE to be putting in main tags #but fuck it we ball #my work #asks

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karahalloway · 3 months ago

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Morally Grey - Part IV: Covert Affairs

Fandom: TRR x Mission: Impossible II

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series: Morally Grey

Synopsis: Drake meets his handler...and realises that he is in deeper than he thought...

Word count: 4,200

Rating/Warnings: E (swearing, lemony-ness, references to death and carnage)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: I know this is not necessarily what people were hoping that I have been working on (poor Intentions keeps getting sidelined...! 😫) but this is where my brain has been for the past month.

A/N2: Associated clips from the movie for this chapter are below:

youtube

I jerk awake with a start.

The russet light of the late afternoon sun pools into the room, smearing the sheets tangled 'round my legs in a warm crimson.

My brows draw together. How and when did I end up in bed?

Running a hand down my face, my mind tracks somewhat groggily back to the events of this morning...

...to land bodily on me fucking Gale right there on the kitchen counter.

I shake my head. No, that can't be—

The rustle of the sheets draws my attention, and my gaze collides with the mess of honey-gold curls spread across the pillows...

...and the bare shoulder poking out from beneath the covers.

My eyes clench shut. "Shit..."

I shouldn't've touched her. That's what set this whole thing off. I should've just kept my hands to myself, or offered her a damn serviette. But I hadn't been thinking, and I'd let the heat of the moment carry me across the very clearly marked line that I've been told never to fucking cross.

Because a kiss — or two — is one thing. Not sanctioned by any official means, and definitely not one you'll find allowance for in any kind of training manual. But the rules are one thing, and real life is another. And if push comes to shove, a kiss can double as a well-timed distraction, or even as a potent lure. And Christ knows it's saved my ass more times than I want to count...

But locking lips with Gale had been different. It'd felt different. There'd been no thought, no planning, nothing even close to resembling a rational choice... Just a wild shot cracked off into the night with no target in sight.

And while I can BS myself 'round the circumstances that led to the first instance — the adrenaline, the cortisol, the heated argument — I sure as hell can't acquit myself regarding the second...

...except by virtue of the fact that I'd wanted to do it.

I'd wanted to taste her again, to hear her gasp against my mouth as her nails scraped down my skin. I'd wanted to leave her breathless, to make her forget her name, and scream out mine instead.

Because as good as she'd looked in that lace dress, that get-up had been a mere smokescreen. A calculated camouflage designed to achieve her objective back at the manor.

And it wasn't until she let her hair down that the mask slipped off... and I caught a taste of who she really was.

As beneath the firecracker façade and the biting wisecracks lay an almost naked authenticity that I thought had been wiped from this world... or at least from the world that I now inhabit. There was no bullshitting this girl, and she wasn't gonna hold back, neither. And honestly? That was like the taste of a damp breeze after an endless summer of drought.

Cracking my eyes open, I sneak a glance over at her. She's still asleep, eyes closed and mouth slightly parted, her features verging almost on innocent...

...except there'd been nothing innocent about the way she'd fucked me right back.

A low groan escapes me as I'm hit with the memory of her legs slung over my shoulders, her hands gripping the marble above her head as she slammed back against me with each violent stroke.

Sweet Jesus, she'd felt good...

As if to reaffirm that assessment, my dick twitches against the constraints of the sheets.

And even though I know it's a bad idea to pursue this liaison even a fraction of an inch further — you don't mix business with pleasure, period, let alone in this line of work, where emotional entanglements will literally get you killed — the only thing I want is to lose myself in her all over again, consequences be fucked.

Which is why — against my better judgement, and against every goddamn protocol — I find myself reaching across to run a fingertip across her delicate skin.

Because let's face it... I'm already up shit creek. So, I may as well ditch the paddle.

Her nose scrunches into a brief mou of disapproval, before she grabs the top of the covers to twist away from me...

...presenting the bareness of her backside in the process.

My gaze dives south like a fish on a lure to trace down the smooth expanse of her back, before settling on the dark cleft nestled between her cheeks... and the promise of its final destination.

Because if that's not a blatant fuckin' invitation, I don't know what is.

Kicking whatever reservations I may have left to the curb — which, if I'm being honest with myself, ain't a whole damn lot to begin with — I slip a hand 'neath the sheets.

Finding the warmth of her skin, my palm tracks briefly upwards to round her hip, before sliding down towards the coveted V between her legs.

She stirs briefly in response to my explorations, but doesn't quite come to...

...which makes me wonder just how far I can push my luck before she catches me out.

Shifting my weight slightly, I prop myself up onto an elbow, gaze trained on her face as my fingers seek their target.

Coasting over the soft flesh of her mons, I hear a low moan rush out of her as she moves against my hand.

My dick bucks against the small of her back like an over-eager hound on a leash, impatient to be let loose. But I keep myself in check, letting the anticipation build one hair's breadth at a time.

Because it's sure as hell gonna be worth it.

Slipping a finger into the heat of her folds, I seek her clit... and groan out loud when I come into contact with the veritable wellspring hidden within.

Because to say that she's wet is an understatement. Every inch of her is still coated in the aftermath of our combined climaxes and my fingers come out soaked.

Damn, that shit should be 'gainst the law...

But as much as a part of me wants to skip the foreplay and just yank her backwards onto my raging hard on, I force myself to take a steadying breath.

Because we erupted outta the gate once already today like a pair of wild broncos, jumping each other before our clothes had fully hit the deck.

And even though that'd been exactly what we'd needed after last night, this time I want to dial it back a gear... to feel her out... to make it last.

As who knows what kind of shit IMF is planning to throw our way when I finally pull my renitent ass outta bed? We could be going deep undercover... Behind enemy lines... Or even off-grid...

So, I'd rather steal the moment now, when I know I have it, than kick myself down the line when neither of us'll be able to avail ourselves of each other.

Because let's face it — Constantine yanked me off of my overdue vacation. So, as far as I'm concerned, he owes me a fuck-ton of time in lieu. And I'm planning to claim it. With interest.

"Mmm..." she moans, vindicating my decision as I start to tease her slick bud.

She twists against me and I drop my head to feather a kiss on her shoulder, drinking in her unguarded reactions as I pull her steadily towards the precipice of consciousness.

Her mouth parts with a more audible gasp as I find her sweet spot. "Drake..."

The sound of my name cascading off her lips like a breathless prayer causes my teeth to sink into her skin.

Fuck, that's hot...

"You awake yet?" I growl, tacitly pressing the issue with the addition of another finger.

"What if...I say... no...?" she mumbles, arcing against me half in protest, half in unabated need.

"I'd say you're a dirty liar," I counter, trailing my tongue up towards her neck.

She scoffs breathlessly, fighting the inevitable. "Yeah, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Walker?"

"Perks of the job," I smirk, nipping her ear.

She snorts back at me. "Not sure I'd call that a perk...!"

"Trust me," I grit, snapping her to me. "It's a definite perk."

She yelps as I roll her on top of me in one quick motion, leaving her spread-eagled with her back pressed against my chest.

Wedging her legs apart before she can think to argue, I shove my fingers deep inside her.

"Drake!" she cries, nearly lifting off of me at the sudden intensity.

"Case in point," I smirk, snapping a strategic hand over her breast to pin her back down against me.

She arcs into my hand. "You're such an ass..."

"You sayin' you'd rather wait a decent interval?"

She lifts her arm to tangle her fingers into my hair. "Who wants to be decent?"

"That's what I thought..." I drawl, circling her nipple with a lazy thumb while curling my fingers inside of her.

"You treat..." she gasps, even as her body strains for more, "...all your accomplices like this?"

"You mean, like this?"

"I— Ah...!" she gasps, free hand slapping onto my wrist in desperation as I add a third finger.

"I can stop any time..." I say, sliding in and out of her with deliberate slowness.

She snaps a hold 'round my dick. "Liar."

I swallow a groan with some difficulty. "Got me there, girl..."

She bursts into a laugh above me. "Guess we're just as bad as each other, aren't we?"

"Baby..." I grin, gliding my hand up to her neck. "There ain't enough time in the world for any of this to be bad."

"You say that now, cowboy..." she purrs, teasing me just as relentlessly as I'm teasing her. "But you're a spy in bed with a thief."

"Your point?"

"Right and wrong got left at the door."

I scoff dryly. "D'you wanna go find it?"

"It's a bit late for that..."

I frown. "Thought thieves weren't supposed to have a conscience..."

"Everyone picks up bad habits..." she admits with a rueful exhale.

Something in her tone gives me pause.

Slipping my fingers out of her, I tip her face towards mine...

...to find her hazel gaze welling with uncharacteristic vulnerability.

"Hey," I say, brushing my thumb across the underside of her jaw. "If you're having second thoughts—"

She shakes her head. "It's not that."

"Then?"

"Can I really trust you?" she whispers, almost too quiet for me to hear.

"To the grave," I affirm, holding her gaze.

She snorts softly. "Why do I believe you?"

"'Cause it's the truth," I say simply, rolling her beneath me. "I meant everything I said on that bridge."

"That's what I was worried about..."

"Why?"

"Because," she sighs, wrapping her arms 'round my neck, "this whole thing would be a lot less complicated if you were just another regular two-faced jerk..."

I shake my head with another scoff. "Think that's the first time anyone's called out honesty as a personality flaw."

"I've been disappointed one too many times..." she admits with a rueful roll of her eyes.

"Any chance of setting the record straight?"

"You can try," she shrugs coyly. "But it won't be easy."

"Good," I drawl, closing the distance between us. "I like a challenge."

Her lips tilt up to meet mine, and as I sink back into her, a realisation hits me like a freight train.

I'd do anything for this girl...

It's pitch black by the time I step out onto the street.

But that doesn't mean the city is asleep. The exact opposite, in fact.

The warm sea breeze catches my still-damp hair, bringing with it the shouts and laughter of the locals and tourists thronging the city for the annual Lantern Festival.

And — to be fair to them — it really is a sight to see. Thousands of hand-made lanterns are cast aloft to drift lazily across the city, carrying the hopes and dreams of their makers skywards.

Which is great.

But wishes ain't gonna save the world. So, I still got a job to do.

Adjusting the lapels of the hastily thrown-on leather jacket, I cast one last glance back at the building — and the lone glow of light emanating from the upstairs window — before plunging into the crowd.

I hadn't planned to run the clock down so much. But Gale was apparently a more potent distraction than initially advertised. And by the time I'd even thought to come up for air, it was already well past sundown.

Not that I strictly give a damn.

What I do on my own time is my business — no one else's. And I'd chosen to do Gale. Three more times, in fact. Plus, once more in the shower.

But, unfortunately, I'm now running behind schedule and I need to step to it if I'm gonna make the meet before the end of the 48-hour deadline.

Weaving through the throngs of tourists and locals crowding the narrow streets, I head east towards the city's old quarter.

Hawkers thrust flowers, lanterns, and light-up pinwheels at me, but I brush them off, intent on my destination.

Turning a corner, I arrive at an unassuming gap between two buildings. Slipping into the alleyway, I come upon a faded, wooden door. Locating the intercom, I quickly tap in my unique agent identifier to activate the obligatory retinal scan.

One quick database check, and the lock clicks back.

"Welcome, Agent Walker," chirps the automated voice as the door swings open.

Stepping over the threshold, I find myself in a brightly lit foyer that is in stark contrast to the dilapidated exterior of the building.

Modern minimalist pendant lights illuminate the space, making the spotless Carrara marble that decks the floor shine as if it were wet.

"He is expecting you," advises the receptionist from behind her desk. "Upstairs, first floor."

"Thanks," I nod, turning towards the elevator.

Pressing the call button, the doors ping immediately open and I hit the request for the first floor. One short ride later, I'm stepping out onto industrial carpet.

"Right this way, Agent Walker," indicates a suited Joe sporting a buzzcut and an earpiece.

I shake my head as I fall in behind the guard. The White House wishes it had this kind of security...

Arriving at the pair of double doors, the guard swipes a keycard to let me through.

Constantine is standing on the far side of the room, hands tucked into the pockets of his immaculately tailored suit, gazing out the window.

"Festival's a pain in the ass," he declares, watching the revelry at street level. "You have to wonder how the city manages to avoid setting itself on fire... Please, sit."

I pull out a leather-backed chair from beneath the large tempered glass table and park myself in it.

"I presume things went to plan with Miss Gale?" he asks, back still to me.

"More or less," I admit.

"Good," he nods. "At least that's one thing that hasn't blown up in our face..." Turning to face me, he adds, "I'm sorry I barged in on your vacation."

I shrug. "Sorry I didn't let you know where I was."

"Wouldn't be much of a vacation if you did..." he counters. "We all need time off every once in a while."

"Yeah, well," I say dismissively. "Best laid plans and all that..."

"Quite," he chuckles, spreading his hands over the top of the table. "We'd both be out of the job if nothing ever went awry."

"True," I agree. "But you're sorry and I'm sorry. So—"

"Why did you phrase it like that?"

I frown. "Like what?"

"You're sorry," he repeats, eyeing me intently. "And I'm sorry."

A scoff slides out of me. "You've got to be shitting me..."

"I am very much afraid not," he murmurs, sliding a tablet towards me.

I catch the device on instinct, eyes still on my handler. But whatever he knows, he's not willing to reveal. At least not yet.

Swiping my thumb across the screen to unlock it, I am confronted with a video file.

My finger hovers for a split second above the play icon, wondering what the hell this is all about, before I tap down onto the glass.

Here comes the rabbit hole...

As expected, the familiar face of Dr. Balen Arion fills the screen, albeit older and more haggard than when I last saw him close to a decade ago.

"Do you remember, Draven, when we first met?" the recording asks. "You convinced me that there was a chance of a better world... if each of us made better choices. Well, old friend, I am sorry to say that I failed... As in my zealous pursuit of our hero Bellerophon, I stumbled instead upon... a Chimera."

Balan reaches up to rub his eyes painedly beneath his glasses.

"History will be the final arbiter of my legacy, but in the meantime, I beg you, Draven, come to New York and accompany me to Geneva, immediately. But, however we travel, I must arrive at my destination, within 20 hours of the time-stamp of this message. I fear I can entrust this to no one but you. As we say, 'I'm sorry and you're sorry'..."

The video cuts out.

"Do you have any idea what in the blazes he's on about?" asks Constantine.

"An idea?" I mutter, still staring at the screen. "Yeah."

"Which is?"

"That it's a good idea to pick him up in a hurry. And a bad idea to fly him on a commercial carrier." I flip the tablet back to the end of the table. "So, let's get to it. Is he still in New York?"

"Dr. Balen Arion is dead," Constantine declares. "So is his colleague Damien Dan. But that happened earlier."

My head snaps up. "How?"

"The American Airlines flight he was on went down over the Atlantic. The search for survivors is still ongoing, but at this point, all 467 souls onboard are lost, presumed dead."

Something doesn't compute. "How the hell did you convince him to get on that plane without me?"

A ghost of a smile flicks across the old man's lips. "Oh, you were there..."

My guts hit the floor. Oh, fuck.

"Arion gave us a tight deadline," Constantine explains, opening up another file on the tablet and shunting it back to me, "So, when we couldn't find you, we had to replace you. Christian Rhys was the obvious choice."

The device skids to a stop in front of me and I watch with growing aggravation as a physiognomic algorithm maps out my features before transposing them onto Chris' to create a virtual mock-up of a full-face mask.

Of all the damn—

"Agent Rhys doubled you, what...?" The old man's voice cuts through my thoughts. "Two, three times?"

"Twice," I grunt, tossing the tablet back at him again.

Constantine catches the device with one hand. "What did you think of him?"

"We're not exactly compatible," I bite out acerbically. "Isn't it a little late in the damn day to be asking me that?

"Not necessarily..."

"Jesus fucking—"

The tablet slides into my eyeline again.

"Official AA records list a Captain James T. Arnolds as the pilot for the ill-fated flight," Constantine advises, as a slideshow of photos plays. "And as far as the media and all governmental agencies are concerned, Captain Arnolds met the same watery fate as the rest of his crew."

Images of what the rescue effort could salvage of the wreckage spin past on the screen.

My jaw tightens. Damn, that's a shit way to go...

"However, that is not quite what happened," my handler reveals. "It appears that the poor captain ran into a spot of bother with ground control. Something about lost and unclaimed luggage..."

A gruesome photo of a beat-up body spilling out of a duffle bag in ways that should not be physically possible flashes up before me.

"So, we're dealing with a hijacking," I surmise tightly.

"It would appear so, yes," Constantine nods. "Whoever downed that flight was skilfull enough to cover their tracks and make it look like an accident. Well... Almost an accident. Captain Arnolds' body turning up unexpectedly at Heathrow certainly raises some awkward questions."

I flick the tablet away. "As does an IMF agent gone rogue."

Constantine meets my eye from across the table. "So, you think it was Rhys."

I scoff. "Arian was a world-renowned microbiologist who specialised in DNA-RNA recombination. Whatever he was in such a hurry to get to the WHO in Geneva was obviously valuable enough for Chris to bring an entire plane down over."

"With a name like Chimera, I presume it's safe to assume that we're dealing with some novel form of virus?" my handler muses. "One that has the potential to be turned into a bio-weapon?"

"Given that Arion started his career in a Drakovian basement trying to weaponise the common cold?" I ask sardonically. "Yeah... That's a definite possibility."

Constantine nods. "In that case, you've got to recover this so-called Chimera and bring it to us."

"No shit," I agree. "We just need to figure out who he plans on selling this thing to."

"That is where Miss Gale comes in."

"How?" I snark. "By getting her to pose as the buyer? No way. Even with her skills as a thief, it's—"

"That isn't quite what I meant, Drake..."

I frown. "Then...?"

"Miss Gale and Agent Rhys had a relationship," Constantine advises evenly. "One that he took very seriously. She walked away, and he's been wanting her back ever since. I have been assured that she is our surest and quickest way of flushing him out."

"So, let me get this straight..." I bite out with more difficulty than I'd've thought possible, given that I only just met this girl. "You want to use her as some kind of swallow to set up a honey trap op?"

"If you want to put such a crude label on it," comes the dispassionate response. "The goal is for him to confide in her — the identity of the buyer, the details of the meet, anything that may be useful — and report back to you. If sex is required to fulfill that objective, then she is well within her rights to resort to it. No one's going to judge her for her actions. She is a civilian, after all."

"You made it sound like I was recruiting her for her skills as a thief," I accuse, my voice dripping with acridity.

"Well, then I mislead you," Constantine admits, spreading his palms. "Or you made the wrong assumption. Either way, we're merely asking her to resume a prior relationship, not do anything she hasn't already done."

My lips pull back to reveal teeth. "She's got no training for this kind of thing..."

"You mean, to go to bed with a man and lie to him?" Constantine smirks. "She's a woman. She's got all the training she needs."

I shoot up from the chair, fists clenched.

Constantine meets my eye calmly.

I turn away, jaw tight. "I don't think I can get her to do it."

"You mean it will be difficult?"

"You haven't met her," I tell him dryly.

"Well, Agent Walker," declares the old man from behind me. "This is not Mission: Difficult. This is Mission: Impossible. Difficult should be a walk in the park for you."

I run my hand through my hair with an acerbic scoff.

Saddling and riding a damn croc would be easier...

"But it is not my job to tell you how to do yours," Constantine continues conversationally. "So, if you can think of a faster, more... palatable way to get to Agent Rhys, you are welcome to try. Just be mindful that time is not our ally. Since the plane crash, there has been a marked uptick in bio-weapons-related chatter amongst the denizens of the dark web. Our guess is that whatever Rhys is planning with Chimera, it is imminent."

"Noted," I grunt, still trying to figure out how the fuck I'm gonna break the news to Gale without her castrating me... Or worse — stealing the keys to the Porsche and vanishing into the night.

"If you feel that some... leverage may be helpful, feel free to show her the images on that device," Constantine instructs, sliding the tablet back to me once more. "A picture is worth a thousand words, after all..."

"You want me to appeal to her conscience?" I snort, turning around.

"The fact that she agreed to come with you indicates that she has some measure of compunction."

"Yeah," I snark, snatching the tablet up. "Damn sure she'll be regretting that decision by the end of the night."

Christ, this is gonna be a shit show…

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Picture credits:

Drake - Bed - Harper - Dossier

#harper gale #drake walker #the royal romance #morally grey #mission: impossible #mashup #Spotify #Youtube

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

Note

AITA for turning off a plant light?

so i (25nb) have been staying at a friend of mines (A, 28m) house (which he also rents out to 3 other people, also friends of ours, B, C, and D) for a while now while i look for an apartment. i pay A $250 a month in "rent" which is a courtesy thing more than anything for internet use and to sleep in his living room and am not considered a tenant (plus no rental agreement or lease has ever been offered to me or signed by me). i also help around with household chores (dishes and keeping the living room and kitchen tidy).

in his living room he has this wall of plants set up on shelves with lights and the whole shebang. he has the lights set to 12 hour timers so they have their own sort of day/night cycle. where i sleep normally is a daybed in the corner so the lights dont really bother me when they turn on (around 9). he recently purchased a really bright LED that has a brightness setting that the package has to warn you to not look at directly even at low settings. its genuinely comparable to staring directly at the sun in the summer at noon it's so bright. this light is also on a 12 hour timer (comes on at 10).

here's where the problem is. when my girlfriend comes over the daybed is too small for both of us to sleep comfortably in so we sleep on the pullout couch... which is directly under the Bright Ass Light. we were up pretty late that night (4am) and didnt really want to be woken up by the light shining directly in our eyes so before we went to sleep i turned the light off. i planned on turning it back on when we woke up (around noon) but got distracted and forgot to. A came downstairs while i was showering for work and chewed B and my gf out for the light being off before he went to work. he sent me a message saying "don't touch my fucking light" a few minutes later and i responded by telling him that if it wasnt so bright directly in our faces i wouldnt have to turn it off. he told me the light was for a desert plant so it had to be bright and that i would just have to deal with it as it was non negotiable. i told him to put it in a renter's agreement if he wanted to make demands like that and he told me he would deal with me when he got home from work.

when he got home from work i asked him how work was and he responded by flipping me off, talking at me for about 10 minutes about how i had a lot of nerve telling him what he could and couldnt do in his own home, especially since i was (according to him) making threats and demands. he said it wasnt his problem that we wanted to stay up late so it wasnt his problem that we didnt get enough sleep because it was shining in our faces in the morning and that id just have to deal with it. B, who was in the room at the time, asked if A would like it if a light woke him up like that, and A said no he wouldnt, but that the plant light is different because "the plants need the light cycle". B pointed out that the light was only off for 4 hours, not the whole day, and that plants in the wild dont get that kind of exact sunlight. didnt seem to matter to A, since while he set the timer back an hour so it would come on at 11, he also said he didnt want me ever touching the light again. i was (still am) completely astonished by this whole thing because its... just a plant light. it wasnt off all day and it doesnt happen all the time (this is the second time ive turned it off, again because i was sleeping under it).

so... aita for turning off the Bright Ass Light?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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penvisions · 10 months ago

Text

the melting point {chapter 16}

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Baker! Reader (ex EMT! Reader)

Summary: In the aftermath of a rather eventful and terrifying last summer farmer's market, you try to find a semblance of normalcy as best you can. Meanwhile, Frankie is up to something that is beginning to cause you to worry about the burden you've become in your recovery.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: medical jargon, mild language, emotional monologues, internal monologue, negative feelings, negative thoughts, ptsd symptoms, pining, emotional pining, depressive thoughts, description of pain and injuries, blood, descriptions of post shooting chaos, panic attacks, notions of death, hospital setting, mentions of needles and iv's, mentions of narcotics, use of prescription narcotics, feelings of inadequacy, angst

A/N: um, so it's been four months since i've touched this fic, then i woke up yesterday morning and just began writing like nothing. takes breaks when you need to, don't force things and it'll all work out. please let me know what y'all think!

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“C’mon, hang on for me baby, please, don’t-don’t close your eyes.”

“Mantequilla, everything is gonna be okay, I promise, we’re all here for you, please know that everything is going to be okay.”

“We’ve got you, you did so good, you saved my little girl, you did, you saved her.”

“Honey, we all love you so much, please stay strong, I’ll hold your hand the entire way there.”

“Let’s get you turned over, ma’am, c’mon. There we go, you’re doing amazing.”

“Santi, she-she-“

“Papa!! Papa, please help her, I love her! Tio Santi, do something!!”

“Merde, that’s so much blood, Frankie you’ve gotta focus, you’ve gotta calm her down. Get her home safe, to your mother’s, somewhere safe.”

“Will!! They got her, call Morgan! She went missing the second things got crazy.”

“Has anyone seen Benny?”

“They’re transporting her now, rushing her to surgery the second the get there.”

“She’s lost a lot of blood, any donations with the same blood type would be appreciated. Who here is a positive?”

“Sweet girl, please, you’ve got to pull through, I know you can do it. You’re so strong.”

“No response, it’s been how many days now?”

“She’s being rushed into another surgery, she keeps clotting. They can’t figure out why.”

“Fransico Morales? You’re next of kin?”

“No, no, but we’re all she has. Her family is flying out, they’ll be here in a few hours.”

“Taylor, take a moment, it’s…it’s a lot to take in.”

“Daddy, why is tia all tangled in those machines, she’s going to be okay, right?”

“This is my son, he wanted to come and cheer her up because she always did the same for him when he was sick.”

“Please, mi amor, please, you have to make it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

Fractered memories played over each other, words echoing and bouncing off of each other through the fog that was all you knew. You couldn’t feel anything, all of your senses stripped away, and you were nothing more than a half-conscious mind tunneling in and out of suspended darkness.

Beeping, an even beeping was the only steady thing you could make out. Sense of environment completely gone and sense of awareness slowly trickling in. Your eyes hurt as you slowly blinked them open, the faint lights around you too bright and you clenched them shut with a huff that pulled at your lungs. The stillness of where you were was shattered as the clattering of a chair sounded, followed by a pair of hands tightening around yours that were settled over your middle. A hushed order to go fetch someone and then a deep voice was rumbling close. You turned your head toward the presence hovering close to your left side, drawn to whoever it was.

“Hey, hey, take it easy, sweet girl.”

A grunt sounded from deep in your chest as you tried to open your mouth and respond. Then a gasp when pain reverberated from the same spot. You tried to shift your legs, hips feeling oddly numb but you couldn’t quite feel them. It was as if they were asleep, but… you cracked your eyes open a second time, squinting down the length of the bed you were in. Your legs were there, obvious underneath the thin, knit, scratchy blankets that only a hospital possessed. You tried to shift again, but even your hips didn’t feel like a part of your body. Your eyes flew open completely, tearing up at the brightness of the room.

Shuddering breaths pulled deep hurt, but you tried to shift again and again but there was no movement underneath the blanket. None.

“Okay, alright, querida, please. Take a deep breath, it’s-it’s gonna be okay.” Frankie. It had been Frankie speaking to you, close to you. His hands reached out for your own, where you had pried them from him to try and prop yourself up, wires and tubes pulling, clattering against each other and making your head swim. “The doctors-“

“I know this must be quite a shock, but it’s good that you’re awake!” A white coat, thrown over a modest skirt and blouse, blonde hair. A kind face, pinched. A furrowed brow. Bad news on the tip of her tongue.

You tried to speak, demand why you couldn’t feel anything below your waist. But you could only croak out the faintest notions of words. Everything was a blur, the hospital room you were in a mess of blue and white, the beeping of machines hurting your ears. Nothing made any sense, confusion coloring every thought as to how you got here and why.

“Let’s get you some water and food first, your body is pretty weak right now. Can I get a level two meal delivered to room thirteen eighty-nine, please?” She turned to address someone who had been hidden behind her, a nurse in teal scrubs.

“Tell me.” You managed to croak out, eyes fixated on her pinched ones.

“I would really prefer to get you a little acclimated.”

“No.”

Her eyes flickered toward Frankie, as if in a silent plea to get him to calm you down and put you at ease however little he could manage. But you ignored the warm weight of his hand on your shoulder, eyes trained on the doctor in front of you as you tried to find more strength to speak around the dry cotton feel of your mouth, the panging hunger that was present in your stomach, the lack of control over your body.

She sighed, arms holding the clipboard in front her in an imitation of a fig leave over her hips.

“We had you in a medically induced coma for the last two weeks. I’m not sure all of what you remember, the brain is fickle that way, pushing things and events out in response to trauma.” She didn’t look from you as the sound of fast steps approached the door, nor when a large figure moved passed her and came straight to your right side. It was Taylor. Both of the most important men in your life on your sides. He was quiet, but you could see the evidence of tears in the puffiness of his eyes, the lack of a smile on his face as he hovered close.

“You were hit in the sacrum and coccyx region, paralyzing you from the waist down. We performed three surgeries to remove the bullet shards and repair as much of the damage as possible. Your blood flow and reflex reactions have improved but we had no way of knowing if anything truly worked until you woke. A week has passed since we stopped inducing you, we were beginning to think you might not wake up.”

The rest of the conversation was a blur, medical terms floating heavy in the air of the room. Daunting, terrifying, life altering. You didn’t think you could handle another life altering event of this caliber. But it didn’t look like you had to traverse it alone. You teared up once the doctor left the room, offering to come back and talk to you once visiting hours were over, though she had mildly glared at both men as she said it. But knowing them both, they had been alternating staying the night to watch over you past the set hours that allowed for them to be present.

You had two wonderful men who were willing to do anything for you, one with a friend group who would follow his lead and the other who had given you so much already. You hoped it wouldn’t be too much, taking what they were willing to give.

“It’s a lot,” Taylor’s voice broke, his words spoken through eyes glittering with tears. His hands tight around yours as he leaned his forehead against yours, completely in your personal space. “But we’ve done somethin’ like this before and we can do it again. We can do it again.”

You could only nod, throat and voice still weak from weeks of disuse.

He walked closer to the side of the bed, the man’s large build shadowing over you in the dimmer setting of the lights you had requested. The full effect of them too bright for you eyes after being unconscious for so long. You reached out to him, urging him to sit atop it as best he could as you all but threw yourself at him. He let you, aware of Frankie standing close to the other side, eyes watering as he heard the cries that began to bubble up from you.

“I-I-“

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here. We’re both here.” Taylor murmured, as he wrapped his own arms around you to pull you close. He smelled like your apartment, a mix of faint buttercream and the rose perfume you favored all rolled into one comforting scent. His own masked by the time he had been in town. “Alfred was here too, but he had to be taken back for school. He sat with you every day for that first week and read to you. He was so worried about you, mami. He kept talking with you like he always does, hoping you would wake up and respond.”

Frankie excused himself, his phone beeping in his pocket and the sound of you crying too much for him to handle all at once. You watched him leave the room, his shadow visible through the blinds in the window looking into the room as he paced up and down the hallway just outside. His voice a low murmur as he spoke with whoever had been trying to contact him.

“I didn’t mean to scare him…or you. I’m so sorry, that call – it must’ve been so terrifying.” You hiccupped into his chest, unable to stop the tears and emotions from flowing all at once, overwhelmed and completely at a loss of how to respond to anything at the moment.

Hushed words eradicated any ill thoughts you were having of yourself, comforting in their genuine indication. He assured you he had been able to handle it, that he was able to handle the hard things that came along with being bonded with someone for life, for knowing someone for so long. For having already done something similar before. But yeah, that it had been scary but Frankie had been as detailed and direct as he needed to be, levelheaded in his description of what had happened and what immediately happened afterwards.

Frankie came up to you both as he entered back into the room, a hand on both your shoulders to get your equal attention. You looked up at him with watery eyes, feeling so proud of how everyone was trying to keep it together for you but guilty at the same time since it had been something they had been dealing with for weeks now.

“That was the airline, they need someone to come in and take over a few tours for double pay. I wouldn’t normally turn them down and I will if you need me here. You’re awake now and I want to be here with you.”

“Y-you should go, if you want to, if you need to.” Scratchy words spoken with what little conviction you could muster. He was conflicted, worried about making the wrong decision.

“You need me here.” He didn’t argue so much as read the thoughts in your mind as clearly as if you had displayed for him to see. “You want me here.”

“Yes, but….money is money, Frankie. For your house, for your daughter, for everything. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

“I’m gonna run and get a coffee before you head out, I’ll stay the night, okay?” Taylor announced before he pressed a kiss to your temple and stood. Leaving you and Frankie truly alone for the first time since you woke up. You reached out to the man, gripping his open flannel shirt and lightly pulling him toward you. But he didn’t budge, his feet stable on the ground and his back not leaning to meet you. He wasn’t looking quite at you, but just beyond you. His eyes a little distant.

“I’m sorry.” Pulling your hands back to rest in your lap, you began to twiddle your fingers, unsure of what to do, unsure of why he was acting so weird and distant. Maybe he was just exhausted, mentally wiped out from waiting and waiting for you to wake up. Maybe…he was rethinking everything he’s once promised you…

“Hey, no, you don’t have to be sorry.” His eyes caught your own, his hands reaching out to hold your own as he kneeled down to be at your eye level. Emotions you couldn’t read swirling behind them. “I just- It’s just… you’re awake. And I’m so scared I’m going to open my eyes or wake up and you’ll still be unconscious…or passed.”

“I am awake.” You insisted, worried about this being an elaborate dream all the same. Some made up fantasy your brain concocted in its last moments and none of it was real, that you weren’t real anymore.

“I want to stay,” He pleaded with you, desperate for you to understand how hard it is for him to make the decision to leave, to heed the call of an entire week’s worth of pay in just a few days. But he had a plan and he had to stick with it, it would be for the best in the long run.

“C-can you stay tomorrow?”

“Of course, sweet girl. I promise. I just- this is important. For the both of us. I swear.”

“I believe you, Frankie. I love you.” You lifted your intertwined hands and kissed his knuckles. He repeated the words before he shrugged his jacket on and bid you goodnight. He didn’t kiss you back, instead squeezing your hands twice in farewell.

“Hermosa, I-I just-“ Frankie hung his head, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees the next evening.

He had gone home to change and get a little sleep after a hectic two days of back to back tours. A touch restful now that he knew you were awake, but still fleeting. His thoughts had been a jumble as his mind flashed your unconscious form across the backs of his eyelids. Bleeding, hyperventilating, being rushed into emergency surgery not once but three times. Of you completely still save for the slight rise and fall of your chest laid out in the hospital bed. “I don’t want to say the wrong thing or diminish anything but- just thank you.”

“You saved her, at such a great risk to yourself. But you did, you saved my little girl when I couldn’t. I have endless love and admiration for you, querida. Please, I am here for you. I will help you with whatever you need or want. And not just because of this, but…but until you don’t want that anymore. You’ve got me, sweet girl. I promise.”

The conviction in his tone was strong despite the way his words were pushed out with deep breaths, trying to keep his composure. His shoulders were quaking with the effort he was holding back another wave of tears. Too many emotions for him to handle since the second you had rushed in front of that gun aimed at his daughter.

“Come here,” You softly compelled him, trying to shuffle atop the bed. Feeling still numb below the tops of your thighs, only some control over your legs that you were trying not to dissect. Going over your charts and test results had helped a little, compartmentalizing that it was happening to you and mind working to help solve and reason the things you read as if it was a patient of your own. Work. And a lot of it was ahead of you.

Frankie shuffled up and out of his shoes, choosing to urge you forward softly so he could be the one resting against the back of the angled bed. He helped to situate you against his chest, his arms coming around you in a warm embrace, the smell of his cologne and body wash puffing up and surrounding you in a comforting way. He pressed kisses to the crown of your head, nose shuffling in your hair and making you sigh out at the human contact.

“I would do it again, in a heartbeat. Even knowing what would happen.”

“Te amo. Te tango mucho amor ti, querida.” He whispered hoarsely in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. All you could do was repeat the words to him, meaning them with everything in your very being. Bringing his hands up to rest over your heart, palms flat over your chest, you both just laid there soaking up each other’s company.

His thoughts took over as you felt your breathing even, reaching over to silence the television that had been playing quietly in the corner where it was installed high on the wall.

‘Everything was so loud, a cacophony of too sharp frequencies grating on his ears as he watched the way your body fell to the ground. The man with the gun fleeing from the scene as soon as the gun had fired, steps heavy as he ran as fast as he could. Pope taking off immediately after him, his own gun pulled from the holster attached to his belt. Permission to carry it around off the clock from one of the local military bases where he worked as a freelance advisor.

Frankie was rushing too, toward you. Toward his daughter. Toward you both. There was a pool of blood forming beneath you, having twisted yourself to prevent from falling on top of Alexia’s smaller frame. She was kneeling beside you, tears running down her cheeks as you reached up to cup her face. A pinched expression on your features and blood blooming dark low on your front. His little girl turned to him as he crashed to his knees behind her and brought her in a crushing embrace to his chest, hearing the hum of the crowd that had begun to form all around.

Shouts to call 911 and responses that more than one person was already speaking with officers, telling them of what had just happened.

She begged him to help you.

She begged him to save you.

Shouting at him in her small voice that she loved you and she knew he loved you too.

She buried her face in his chest as he leaned forward to try and get your eyes to focus on him, but you were barely able to keep them open. Lashes fluttering as your breath became labored. He was speaking, words falling from him as he fell back on years of training. Pinging questions off one after the other, getting no response from you for even one. Unresponsive in the worst way, body completely laid out before him and eyes now completely closed. You could’ve been sleeping, as you were still for a fleeting moment.

But then you started to convulse, body fighting against the bullets that had landed deep in your body. He tried to tilt your head toward him, to avoid you biting on your tongue or choking on your own breath.

A new set of hands was taking over, gently ushering him away as paramedics appeared on the scene.

He could only hold tight to his sobbing daughter as he watched the two technicians tend to you. Your chest ceasing heaving at an alarming rate, your breath almost rattling as your lungs desperately tried to keep working.

Blinking rapidly, Frankie focused his eyes on his hands curled over the controls in front of him. He was flying, the landscape of the city and surrounding greenery, the ocean all laid out before him. He was okay, you were okay. Alexia was okay.

He was at work. He was okay.

His fingers twitched at the clueless ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahh’s’ of the tourists clamoring for views outside the windows. Their voices coming in clear through the headsets they wore to match his own. Completely in their own world and no problems plaguing them. Carefree.

He was at work. He wasn’t okay.

He should’ve stayed with you.

He should’ve turned down the offer.

But he had run at the first opportunity. Unable to stop the events from replaying in his mind on a loop.

Preventing him from sleeping, preventing him from being able to look at you half the time. Seeing you as you had looked right after the attack, seeing you as they rushed you onto the ambulance, seeing you as your chest went completely still once loaded up. The way your body didn’t respond to the attempts of resuscitation.

Mind torturing him by projecting you laid out in an open coffin. Copper hair resting around your lifeless frame, beautiful face covered in the wrong shade of makeup, hiding the freckles that dotted your face from him. Forever closed eyelids hiding your bright eyes from him. Black dress hiding your soft skin from his twitching fingers, itching to trace the delicate ink that decorated your skin. A masterpiece taken from him in a cruel twist of fate.

Shaking his head minutely, he shoved the fake notions out of his head and pivoted the helicopter toward the coast. Following and announcing the route for the tour that the people sat behind him had requested.

He was at work and he didn’t think he’d ever be okay again. But he would try for you, because you were awake and waiting for him to return to you.

He pulled his sunglasses from where the frames were hanging from his collar and covered his reddening eyes.’

“Come on, two more steps and we’re home free.” The physical therapist was encouraging in the most grating of ways. Your normally polite and civil personality being shattered by the turn of events your life had taken. It was a lot of work now, but it had been a lot of work to initially discover that you had only minimal feeling and control over your lower half. Hips sore no matter how much medicine was added to your IV, legs numb and unresponsive more often than not.

But that didn’t stop the doctor from putting you on a physical therapy track of two appointments per week. Something you had thought was a lot right off the bat but not wanting to argue. Just as angered by the quick pace as you were determined to stick to it. It was the second week since waking up, discharge looming like a storm over the horizon, visible but not yet tangible.

There had been talk about Taylor renting a home to move into for the duration of your recovery. His son being taken care of by his co-parent back home with school having started. But Frankie had offered up his own home, a flush to his caramel skin as he did so. Not having wanted to ask you to move in under such dire circumstances. But he would be lying if he said the thought of offering you a space in his home hadn’t been on his mind lately.

Taylor had offered to split his time between Frankie’s and the apartment above the shop. An outpouring of love from the community delivered to the shop and hospital in overwhelmingly equal parts. Baskets of treats, flowers, cards, vouchers for services from all around the city and local vendors. Everything was being toted back between the two spaces that were now yours.

Lex indulging in the treats as she sat with you in the afternoons after school. Homework laid out before her atop the bed as you helped her with her math and writing. Different people picking her up while Frankie returned to work, determined to put in as many hours before he took two whole weeks off to help you transition to being home once you were discharged.

But right now, you were stood on shaking legs, arms braced heavily on the bars on either side of you as you stood between the set up of the parallel bars. Sweat dripping from your hair thrown up in a haphazard bun, skin sallow from the medication you were on a strict rotation of. You had forgone shoes, insistent that you wanted to be able to feel anything should it come back to you while practicing.

Your arms were shaking, holding up the entirety of your body weight on them, muscles straining and tattoos looking distorted with the flex of them. With a huff, you shifted your hips, right leg lifting slightly and managed to shuffle it about a foot before placing your foot down flat and tipping forward to even your weight with the new stance.

“Alright, you did it!” The nurse was a kindly young man, his arms hovering behind you as he waited for you to tap out. But you sucked in a deep breath and concentrated. Shifting your left foot ahead in the same manner before a spike of pain shot up from the arch of it as you settled it flat on the mat.

“Fuck! Okay, okay, I’m out. That’s all I got.” You wavered, arms shaking and legs beginning to tingle where you could feel them.

“That’s okay, you did good today. Four steps is progress.” The nurse helped you, gathering your form in his arms and lifting to get the pressure off your aching shoulders.

Santi was in the room when you were wheeled back, no sign of Taylor or Frankie. He informed you that they were both taking care of something for you which made you feel a little uneasy that they hadn’t told you themselves the night before that they wouldn’t be in to see you today. The nurse let the man take over with helping you get back into the bed, knowing you’d rather it be someone who you knew handling you for something a little more intimate of a move.

The man’s broad shoulders tensed as he supported your nearly dead weight, completely at a loss of energy from the days activities.

“Did they say where they were going?” You inquired, voice soft as you nuzzled your face into the man’s neck. He smelled so good and you were just in a very physically affectionate mood in wake of not getting any direct attention from Frankie in the way you were too hesitant to ask for.

“Mante, you know I would tell you if I knew, but they were like school boys, shuffling their feet and avoiding eye contact. I’m sure it’s just a surprise for you, don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

You were quiet for a moment, allowing the man to situate your aching legs as best he could and covering you up with the blankets that had been brought from your apartment. He busied himself with getting a take out bag unpacked and placing containers over the collapsable table attached to the bed for you. A cup of coffee that smelled of caramel and foamed milk pressed gently into your reaching hands. He was so diligent, the soft curls of his graying hair falling over his forehead as he focused. When everything was set up, he settled into the chair beside the bed with his own container and began to dig in.

But you were still, only a sip taken from the hot coffee handed to you.

“Santi…”

“What is it, hermosa?” He looked up from his food, utensils loaded up and a bite halfway to his lips. “I get the wrong thing?”

“No,” A small smile offered to him as your heart fluttered in your chest, unsure of how to even broach the concerns that were crashing over you in overwhelming waves. “No, this is great. Thank you.”

The man watched you, eyes scanning your face as you averted your eyes. He let out a quiet sigh and set down his utensils completely, asking you to tell him what was really on your mind.

“Frankie…he, um, he-“ You felt like a complete idiot as your face heated up, tears welling in your eyes unbidden. Foolish question, it was such a foolish thing to be worried about when the man’s words were nothing but reassuring and loving. “Why won’t he kiss me, Santi?”

“Is that what you need right now?”

You warbled out an affirmative. Feeling for all the world like a pathetic lovesick fool even surrounded by everyone who you could possibly need in your life right now, everyone working together to help you in any way possible.

“Have you talked to him about it?”

A shake of your head was all the answer you could muster up.

“He’s probably just trying to respect you, not wanting to put pressure on you to be that way with him if you’re too overwhelmed.” Santi went on to explain that his best friend had trouble with stuff like this, showing his affection and feelings in wake of traumatic events.

That you should try not to worry too much, though he knew that was easier said than done. To not take it personally, but he admitted to knowing that might be hard to do as well, everything so much at the moment. He reminded you that you could reach out to you with anything at any time. He would try his best to be there for you in any way that he could. Even jokingly offering to pepper kisses over your face and approaching you with overly pursed lips until you erupted into a laughing fit at how ridiculous he looked as he loomed closer. He sealed the conversation with a genuine press of his lips to the corner of your mouth, his hands cradling your face in their warmth before he moved back to his seat and ordered you to eat.

Across town, Taylor and Frankie had a similar conversation as a bell dinged above them where it was nestled in the doorway to a shop front. The two men determined to surprise you with something that Frankie had quietly brought up one night following your first rush into emergency surgery. An approval of sorts he had been seeking after was granted instantaneously with a smile and words of encouragement from the only other man he felt like he could share the conversation with at the moment.

“Discharge papers should be processed by end of day, looks like you’ll be spending the night in your own bed.” The doctor offered you a small smile. She had been worried about having you under her care when she found out you were a once trained medical technician, knowing how bad of a patient she was when sick herself. But you had surprised her, not talking over her or voicing opinions on what needed to be done. It had been another week, progress made in physical therapy.

You were able to walk the length of the parallel bars, slowly and with a lot of huffing and puffing. But it cleared you for outpatient treatment. The feeling in your legs was spotty, coming to you mostly in the mornings when you first woke up and at the end of the day after resting for a few hours. Something she was only mildly worried about, muscle atrophy from being unconscious for so long lingering even now.

But she had been confident that the feeling would come back completely, though she was honest when she said she was worried about numbness flaring up.

That’s how you found yourself seated in the passenger seat of Frankie’s truck as he pulled into the drive of his house. He was waiting for the garage to open, in order to make it easier for you to walk straight into the laundry room instead of having to attempt to tackle the stairs to the front door. Everyone would be over tomorrow, to celebrate your release. Giving you a free night to settle in and mentally deal with the shift in environments. Lex would be at her grandparents so Frankie could focus on getting you settled.

“One moment, just…want to get something set up before I help you out, okay?” His earnest gaze widened his beautiful eyes, watching you and making sure you were alright to be left alone for a moment. He was through the door and back in the garage in a matter of minutes, a shy smile aimed at you as he helped you down and got a walked ready for you. It had a cushioned seat in the middle, in case you needed to take any breaks when trying to move about. Something you wanted to argue but didn’t have a good one against.

You felt…weird. Having to rely on him so much, but extremely grateful that he was willing to. You’d seen friendships and relationships fall apart with this much stress and similar situations. Both as a professional and a civilian, as a friend. You only hoped this wouldn’t be one of the last things he did for you before telling you it was too much, that you were too much. Love could only encompass so much before it wasn’t enough to hold two individuals together.

Melancholic and depressive thoughts abundant as you tried to come to terms with what the near future would hold for an unknowable amount of time. There was no timeline with things like this and that’s what worried you the most. What if you had flares of numbness for the rest of your life, what if he began to see you as a burden, as work he had to come back to after doing his shifts at the mechanics and his flying tours. What if all your progress was meaningless and you woke up one day with no feeling at all?

He had hushed you on more than one occasion with soft words, promises he wouldn’t do that. Promises that he was yours, that you were his, that you were in this together. But doubt crept in regardless. Even more so in the realization that he hadn’t wanted to kiss you. He was quick to dodge your advances, placing placating touches of his lips to your hair instead; of pulling you tighter to his body instead. Almost as if he was hesitant to show you affection in that way and it was hard to handle when all you wanted was that type of comfort from the man you loved so completely.

His hands were warm as he supported your weight, but he didn’t shift you down to the ground completely, instead he pulled you flush against him. Your own arms tightened around his neck, feet barely touching the ground as he ducked his head to kiss you fully for the first time since you woke up in that hospital bed. You melted into him even more, welcoming his lips against yours reverently, desperately.

The plush give of them against your own feeling like a true welcome home.

Shifting your hands up into his soft hair, you knocked the cap clear of his head as you parted your lips for him. He held you tight, not risking you putting too much weight on your own feet for even a second as he kissed you again and again, lips meeting yours in a dizzying display of his unfettered affection. Pulling at his curls, you pivoted his head to deepen another kiss, desperate for his touch and his taste. He groaned into your mouth, pulling back slightly to rest his forehead against yours. You opened your eyes slowly, watching the way his face was completely relaxed. The lines of his age smoothed out slightly as he moved to peck one last kiss to your slick lips.

He had set the table up before picking you up, at home during the day as he had received your hopeful text about the paperwork this morning. But he had run inside to pull everything from where it was keeping warm in the oven, lighting twin tapers set in the middle of the dining table. You tried to hide the squeal of surprise as he lifted you up completely, choosing to carry you bridal style over the threshold of the house and through the laundry room and into the kitchen.

“Frankie, you didn’t have to do all this.” You placed a kiss to his cheek as he carefully set you down into a chair, making sure your legs were situated how you wanted them. “I woulda been happy with a fast-food drive thru, you know that.”

“I know, but I wanted to do something special for you.” He moved over to the closest chair, settling down into it with a sigh. He looked nervous, you realized as you took in the dinner had had made before picking you up. One of your favorite dishes filling the kitchen with its tantalizing scent. The boys had snuck in food from time to time, but it had mostly been bland hospital food for a majority of the last three weeks.

Frankie cleared his throat, your eyes lifting from the items on the table and toward him.

In his hands was an emerald velvet box, open to reveal a simple gold band with a sparkling rhombus diamond in the middle.

Your lips parted, a gasp falling from them as your heart stuttered hard in your chest. Hands dropping the utensils you had just picked up clattered to the table and you stared across the table at him. At a complete loss for words as he nervously shifted in his seat and leaned closer toward you to take your hands in his own, the small box set down gently beside your plate. His hands were shaking slightly, his nerves obvious as he bared his soul to you with his next words.

“Sweet girl, I know things are going to be touch and go for a long while,” He took a deep breath, chest pulling the fabric of his shirt taut with the action. His tongue peaked between his lips, a habit you noticed when he had a lot on his mind, and he was trying to sort through everything. “But I don’t want you to worry about anything to do with us, with you and me. You have me, you have me until the moment you decide you don’t anymore. I hope you don’t ever change your mind because I’ve been gone on you since the second you aimed that glare in my direction all those months ago. Will- will you do the honor of marrying me?”

Tears welled up the longer you looked at him, his eyes so wide and open, his voice cradling you with his earnest words. All you could do was nod, voice caught in your throat.

He let out a deep exhale, pulling a giggle from you when he broke out into the widest, goofy smile you had seen on him yet. You mirrored him, lips pulling as you squeezed his hands and leaned forward to rest your forehead against them clasped together.

“Of course I’ll marry you, Fransisco. Of course.” You kissed the tops of his hands, one and then the other before you were pushing yourself up slightly, tentatively placing weight on your legs and surging forward to kiss him.

He only let you get away with one before he was standing from his seat and kneeling in front of you with the box in his hands. He carefully removed the ring from its spot nestled safely inside the velvet cushion and you held out your left hand for him. It took a second for him to place it securely on your ring finger, snug and perfect against your skin. It glittered in the candlelight and you felt a tear run down your cheek.

Frankie’s hands came up to cup your face, his lips connecting with yours as he chuckled breathlessly at having managed to pull out the surprise proposal. At your resounding yes. At the prospect of a concrete future with you.

“I love you so much, thank you for...for everything.”

“I love you too, you dork,” Your laugh sparkled against his parted lips. “I can’t believe you just thanked me for agreeing to marry you.”

“Well, you could’ve said no.”

“Not in a million years.”

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dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics

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magnifythesun · 6 months ago

Note

CCO Anthony Padilla and President Ian Hecox of Smosh

ooooooo let's goooo!

post writing notes: YAY OKAY IVE DONE IT!!! so i read this and immediately assumed you meant a business au and i for the life of me have not been able to think of what kind of business they would run in this fic SO it is "the company" and they make money and also have shareholders and they call their employees their "crew" and dont ask me any details i was unable to figure it out!! but i think this turned out pretty cute?? more angsty than i was anticipating but with comfort i promise.

also i stayed g rated since i wasn't sure what rating you were comfortable with but Company(TM) President Ian and CCO Anthony could get it on i think if anyone wants that in the future lmao, just don't expect any details on what the hell they're selling sorry lmao! also i know nothing about business

bonus points if you can spot the direct reference to the wikipedia article for the term CCO.

---

The responsibility of being in charge of the company weighed heavily on Ian. It had been at its worst when Anthony had left, the fear of driving the company into the ground, of not being a good enough leader, of failing to thrive without his right-hand man.

When Anthony had returned, it was like a breath of the freshest air. Although Ian maintained his position as President, Anthony taking the role of CCO was possibly the best business decision Ian had ever made. Anthony had always been best with the marketing and business strategy, with an eye for the best trends to get their company booming. A huge weight felt like it was moved off Ian's shoulders. He could just focus on the top-level stuff and taking care of his employees and leave the marketing, which Ian had always hated, to Anthony.

Still, this didn't mean Ian didn't get stressed anymore. Ian loved his work, but sometimes it became overwhelming, the way his mind spun around, worrying about the whether he'd assigned the right person to the right project, whether his employees were happy, and so forth. Over the course of each work week, the panic would build up inside, setting him on edge until he would lie awake at night, staring up at his bedroom ceiling as his mind flew.

Reprieve came from an unexpected corner.

There was a routine now. At the end of the work week, there was always a meeting, and he and Anthony would attend. Ian would mostly listen, too stressed and sleep-deprived to think of any meaning contribution. Plus, Anthony was better at leading the meeting anyway, as it was mostly about that week's sales. Afterward, Anthony would talk him down from all his worries, and Ian would be able to breathe until the next week began. This week was no different.

At the end of the meeting, everyone filed out, excited to book it home for the weekend, leaving Ian and Anthony alone in the big meeting room. Ian let out a sigh, his shoulders sagging, letting the last shards of his confident facade crumble and fall. Anthony glanced over at him as he shuffled his papers back into order.

"You alright?" He asked this every week.

"You know me," Ian waved a hand dismissively, "I get in my head."

"You're too hard on yourself, man," Anthony tapped the papers on the desk with finality. "Didn't you hear anything I said just now? Our sales are up, stockholders happy, and we even get to give a big bonus to the whole 'crew,' just like you always talk about doing."

Ian shook his head like he could knock the words away, standing up to face the big window that was letting in the light of the late afternoon sun.

"This year is going great, Ian! Why won't you let yourself celebrate this success that we've built?"

Anthony sounded tired. Ian couldn't blame him. They'd had this conversation every week for the last six months. However, this time, Anthony's words just couldn't shake the dread inside him.

This year, things were going great. But it wasn't that long ago when it had been the whole company on Ian's shoulders, margins in the red, the heavy weight of responsibility for all of his people's livelihoods crushing him into the ground. What's to say this year's success wouldn't be short-lived? Was there already something he wasn't seeing, some sign of trouble to come?

And what if, when things got rough... What if Anthony...

A gentle warm grip on his wrist startled him out of his thoughts. Ian turned, surprised. They'd had this conversation a million times, but Anthony always talked him out of it, sitting over at the table while Ian paced out his anxieties. He'd never come to join him by the window, and certainly had never—

Anthony tugged him slightly so that they were facing each other directly, the sunlight filtering through Anthony's hair so that the light brown highlights he'd gotten sparkled. Ian, for a blessed moment, couldn't think of anything else at all. Then, Anthony's hands took his own.

"I," Anthony started, not seeming sure of himself, "I get this feeling. Every week, I reassure you about the company. About how we're doing. About how our 'crew' seems really happy about where we're at, how we're seeing success at levels we could barely dream of back when we first started this." Anthony paused, his face filled with such genuine worry that Ian felt the hot sting of guilt roil in his stomach. "But, Ian, telling you all that doesn't seem to help you for very long."

Ian sighed, looking off to the side. "I'm sorry, I don't know-"

"I think I do," Anthony cut him off, reaching up to grab his shoulders instead. "Ian, I don't even know if I can say this in a way that will fully convince you, but I—," He pushed through with growing confidence, "I'm not leaving this company again."

How did this man always see right through him?

"I'm not leaving you again," Anthony said, quieter, and Ian couldn't stop the tears that were coming to his eyes. "Ever. Do you understand?"

Ian reached up and swiped the tears away. "Yeah," He said, shakily.

"I'm not leaving." Anthony shook him slightly, the look in his eyes so serious that it began to chip away at the pit in Ian's stomach that had sat there for years.

"Right. Yeah," Ian nodded his head.

"I'm not. We're gonna be running this thing for years," Anthony smiled, "Into the ground if necessary."

Ian laughed, "Okay, okay. I believe you." And he actually did. Another, heavier weight that he hadn't realized he was still carrying felt like it was melting away. "Alright, good."

They stood there just a little too long, Anthony's hands warm on Ian's shoulders, the sun bringing out each delicate shade of brown in Anthony's eyes. And again, for a moment, Ian couldn't think about anything else.

"Right, so." Anthony let go and walked back over to the table. Ian took in a slow, deep breath and let it out as Anthony grabbed his papers and shoved them in his briefcase. "I don't know if you even realized with your President head so far above the clouds, but we just wrapped a fiscal year!"

Ian rolled his eyes. "Of course I know that."

"Just checking!" Anthony beamed at him. "So, wanna celebrate? How about soup at your place?"

That startled a sharp laugh out of Ian. "That's the biggest celebration you can think of?"

"Look," Anthony held up a haughty finger. "As your CCO, I think making soup tonight will allow us to achieve our long-term objectives."

Ian scoffed. "Yeah, your long-term objective to have me cook you soup," Ian said dryly, grabbing his own briefcase and heading toward the door.

"No, hey, hear me out!" Anthony followed him out. "I've got a whole pitch for it and everything!"

#my fanfic #asks #ianthony #☀️🔍#my apologies for the long delay between prompt fills! i started a new job last week and i have been adjusting lol #hope you all enjoy!! <3

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