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seasonofthewicth · 4 years ago

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A Groovy Kind of Love - Epilogue

AN: It’s here... THE END!!! I’m almost sad to finish this fic off but I have absolutely loved writing it. Thank you so much to everyone who reblogged/commented/sent asks or spoke to me about this fic it means so much to me and I really appreciate you!!

warning: adult content ahead

previous chapter - masterlist - ao3

~1 year later~

“You need to rip the band-aid right off.”

Rowan could barely hold in his sigh at Lorcan’s pronouncement. He shared a look with Aedion who looked as baffled as Rowan felt.

“What the fuck?” Aedion shook his head. “This is not the kind of thing you just ‘rip off’.”

“How do you have a girlfriend?” Fenrys’ bewildered voice came from Rowan’s side.

Lorcan shrugged, unbothered by each of their reactions. “Don’t mess around. Just ask her, simple. Then it’s done.”

“Gods, above,” Rowan muttered.

“I should never have asked you three, I should have gone to Aelin. Or even Dorian.” Aedion sighed before clasping his hands in front of himself. “Okay, serious suggestions only.”

“That was a serious suggestion.” Lorcan said, not attempting to hide his indignation.

Aedion ignored him. “Fenrys go.”

The golden haired male took a moment to consider, barely holding back from stroking his chin as he considered the prompt. Of all of them, Fenrys had been in a relationship for the shortest amount of time, he and Dorian had only declared their relationship a few months earlier, even though Rowan knew things had been brewing for far longer.

It was strange to think that all four of them were in committed relationships, especially as they all still lived in what had been the bachelor pad of their first apartment together.

Rowan would never admit it out loud, but he felt sentimental to the old loft, even with it’s broken window and ever leaking shower. The draughty exposed brick would always remind him of the parkour phase Aedion and Fenrys had gone through not long after they had moved in. They had taken every opportunity they could to throw themselves around the loft without any kind of skill and they had only stopped after their neighbour complained of unexplained banging noises.

The red stain on the hardwood floor, now covered by a blue bean bag chair, would always remind him of the time Aedion had brought home a girl who had–for reasons still unknown to Rowan–thrown a bottle of red wine at his head. None of them had bothered to clean the stain, in fact Lorcan had posed for a photo with it and Fenrys had framed it on their refrigerator where it had stayed for years.

His main memory of their loft however, would always be their front door. The slab of wood, with it’s peeling grey paint and the lock that often stuck shut unless it was jiggled just so, would always remind him of Aelin. Rowan knew he wore a ridiculously soft smile at the thought, but he would always be grateful for the loft for bringing him to Aelin. Or more accurately, for bringing Aelin to him.

He swallowed the sly smirk that threatened at the memory of the time he had taken her against the door. She had wrapped her long legs around his waist as he had pounded into her and her nails had clawed his back as she had moaned in his ear. He had buried his teeth into her neck, savouring the salty and sweet taste of her skin on his tongue. He hadn’t been able to leave the loft without getting semi-hard for weeks.

“What are your first memories of Lysandra?” Fenrys asked eventually, somehow pulling Rowan’s thoughts from Aelin. It was a difficult task, even over a year into their relationship Rowan was still completely enamoured. “If you want to go big you could do something to do with that, girls love sappy shit.”

Rowan smiled as Lorcan nodded solemnly, finally appearing to take Aedion’s request for help seriously. His best friend seemed to consider the suggestion, crossing his arms over his broad chest and surveying the three of them where they sat before him.

“That could work.” He said slowly.

“Great.” Fenrys grinned. “We need to brainstorm. What are your big moments with Lysandra? Like when did you and Lys first meet?”

Aedion shrugged again. “I knew of her for years through Aelin but I only remember meeting her properly when Aelin moved in.”

Fenrys’ enthusiasm was rapidly gaining momentum. “Right, and any special memories from then? Any big gestures you could make as a throwback?”

Aedion’s eyes widened before a burst of laughter sprung from his lips. Rowan shared a look with Lorcan who shrugged.

“I told her I’d marry her then,” Aedion said, shaking his head and running a hand through his shoulder length hair.

“What?” Rowan barked his disbelief.

“You’re not serious.” Even Fenrys seemed bewildered.

Aedion only laughed again. “I said ‘girl, imma marry you’.”

Rowan groaned as he lifted a hand to cup his forehead before dragging it down over his eyes.

“You’re no better than him.” Fenrys said with a shake of his head as he gestured to Lorcan who did nothing but smirk back at him.

Aedion flipped him off. “I don’t come close to his level of inadequacy, at least I can actively take steps towards relationship milestones. Have you even brought up moving in with Elide to her yet?”

Lorcan scowled, before muttering, “don’t change the subject.”

Aedion took a sharp intake of breath, reading himself to speak, and Rowan dragged his hand away from his eyes. There wasn’t time to let those two get into it.

“Not to in any way agree with Lorcan but I think he could have a point,” He said quickly. “You love her and want to marry her, tell her that. Down on one knee with the ring, I doubt she’d say no.”

Rowan knew his words were the truth. He had known Aedion for a decade now and he had never seen his best friend as smitten as he was with Lysandra, nor had he seen him so secure. Aedion and Lysandra played off each other, she settled him and he excited her.

Rowan knew Lysandra would say yes but he understood Aedion’s need to over-prepare. While it was standard for Aedion to mull over the details, his mind was one for strategy and weighing-up the risks and it was part of what made him so good at his job, and Rowan knew that while this wasn’t a risk, it was important to his friend to get it right.

Proposing to Aelin was a thought that had drifted around the edges of Rowan’s mind for a while. From the start Rowan had known Aelin was it for him and he knew he wanted to marry her at some point in the future but the pressure of how to do it right, the way to make it right for Aelin was a task he knew he’d work hard on.

He knew Aelin would say yes even if he asked her over a mouthful of food at their kitchen counter but he also knew that she was a princess at heart with a taste for finery and he wanted to spoil her. It was a luxury in itself for Rowan that he could. Since taking over the bar, even with the large loan he had taken out, his bank account had a healthy level of cushioning that he loved using to take Aelin for weekends away or to fancy restaurants.

There was a savings account that he and Aelin threw money into every month for whenever they felt ready to move out of the loft, but there was also a separate savings account that Aelin was unaware of that Rowan was saving for something shiny.

“Thanks,” Aedion said, shaking himself somewhat. Rowan nodded, amused at the level of detail and reassurance Aedion appeared to need.

“You need to relax,” Fenrys’ chimed in, voicing Rowan’s thoughts aloud. “You’re overthinking it.”

“He’s right.” Rowan swallowed. “Just tell her the truth. Tell her you love her, how much you want to spend the rest of your life with her and how much she makes you smile every day. Tell her how you want to be eighty and still holding her hand, or how you hate the thought of going a single day without her.”

“Gods,” Fenrys scoffed as Lorcan snickered. “You’re making me want to marry you.”

Rowan narrowed his eyes. “You’re welcome to take notes.”

“Thanks, but I don’t need to.”

“Really? Not thinking of getting down on one knee for Dorian?”

Fenrys smirked. “I get on my knees for Dorian plenty, but no.”

“Why not?” Rowan asked, ignoring the comment and daring to bite, knowing he’d likely regret it.

“He’ll be the one proposing to me,” Fenrys explained as if it were obvious.

Rowan laughed, Aedion and Lorcan’s laughter echoing his own.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing,” Fenrys turned to Lorcan. “Your proposal skills need some serious work.”

Lorcan shrugged, unfazed as ever. “Maybe I’ll let Elide propose to me too.”

Rowan snickered at the image of the tiny woman on one knee before his giant of a friend. He sobered when he paused to consider it, Elide probably was the kind of woman who could propose to Lorcan, she had him wrapped completely around her little finger.

“I can see it.”

“She takes what she wants, it’s hot.”

Rowan laughed again. “You could take her name too, Lorcan Lochan has a good ring to it.”

Fenrys’ howl of laughter from his side brought a grin to Rowan’s lips as he looked to his friend who’s eyes darkened at the ribbing.

“Lorcan Lochan,” Aedion repeated through a laugh. “Please, I’d pay money to see it.”

Rowan smiled as his friends continued their teasing and his mind wandered through the possibilities. Aelin had a number of surnames already but he quite liked the sound of Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius.

“You are not allowed to move in here.”

The panic in Lysandra’s green eyes as she hurtled around the corner was almost comical.

“Why not? What’s wrong?” She demanded.

Aelin ran a thoughtful finger along the sleek, oak mantelpiece admiring each of the twisting lines running through the wood. To the side of the fireplace sat a tall window, letting in plenty of warm daylight that reflected off the shining hardwood floors and crept into each of the corners of the large room. The archway Lysandra stood under led to the open plan kitchen-diner with it’s sleek marble countertops and extended dining table that could seat their whole group of friends.

“If you move in here I’ll be too jealous.”

Lysandra slumped in relief, leaning a shoulder against the archway as she smiled. “He’s done well.”

“I didn’t know Aedion had this in him,” Aelin said with a snort and Lysandra waved a hand.

“He has spent months putting it together,” her friend admitted and Aelin smirked.

“How much did he let you choose?”

Lysandra winced. “It was fifty-fifty.”

Aelin waited.

“Forty-sixty.”

Aelin only cocked her head as she waited a moment longer.

“I won’t go any lower than thirty-five. And I picked the paint for the bathroom walls.”

Aelin’s poker face cracked at her friend’s admission. She knew her cousin wanted their house to be perfect but he had taken his attention to detail to the extreme. The number of interior design magazines that were littering the coffee table in the loft was well into double figures and Aelin had been dragged on multiple trips to a number of shops to offer her opinion on almost identical shades of paint and patterned wallpapers. Lysandra had been content to sit back and let her boyfriend take the reins, confident that Aedion would choose well.

He had. The house was beautiful, and the dedication her cousin had offered was obvious. Each room had a multitude of tiny details that revealed the love Aedion had poured into the house, in the kitchen it was the large window that overlooked their garden, offering a glance at the wildlife that flocked to the numerous native plants Aedion had selected. In the living room it was the stuffed bookshelves, housing almost anything from Aedion’s old college textbooks to Lysandra’s abundance of romance novels.

Aelin’s favourite was the study her cousin had decorated for Lysandra to house her newly developed modelling agency. Lysandra had chosen more recently to take a step away from posing in front of the camera and had opted to manage a small group of models. The office was bright and welcoming, with splashes of soft green accents that suited Lysandra. The office sat next door to a room that was carefully neutral, but Aelin knew it wouldn’t take much work for it to be converted into a nursery.

Aelin took another glance around the living room they stood in, Aedion had truly curated a home. She could see herself and Rowan curled up on the loveseat in the corner with Aedion on the armchair by the fire and Lysandra perched in his lap. She could hear the sounds of Fenrys rummaging through their fridge as Lorcan barked orders from his space on the sofa.

Aelin was going to miss having them all under one roof, even if it meant her and Rowan having the loft to themselves. But she knew that as quiet as the loft would feel without the others, she was excited to make the space their own. And to get some much awaited privacy.

Lysandra watched her with knowing eyes as she surveyed the space. “You’ll all be welcome any time to come and visit.”

Lysandra plopped down onto the plush couch, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she settled into the pliant cushions. Aelin took the seat opposite, throwing her feet onto the footstool set carefully in front of the sofa.

“Just make sure your doors are locked at night, I think Fenrys could take your open door policy a little too liberally.”

Lysandra shook her head. “I’m not sure Aedion would mind, he’ll pretend he won’t but he’ll miss having the guys around. He’ll give them all a key.”

“What about me?” Aelin gasped, pressing a dramatic hand to her chest. Lysandra rolled her eyes as she settled further into their couch, it was an agreement that didn’t need to be stated that Aelin would get her own key to the new house. “I’m glad you’re not living with Blackbeak anymore.”

Lysandra’s eyes stayed shut as she laughed. “She’s really not that bad. You’d know if you ever bothered to get to know her the entire time I lived with her.”

“Lys, she’s awful. She’d strut about as if she was the queen or something whenever I came around. Making sly comments to… I don’t know,” Aelin waved a hand, searching for the words. “Assert her dominance or something.”

Lysandra cracked her eyes open to level Aelin with an unimpressed stare. “And you wouldn’t?”

Aelin shrugged, whatever displays she and Manon had put on were in the past. Hopefully she’d never have to see the scarily beautiful woman again. “I’m your best friend, I don’t need to try and posture.”

Lysandra grinned. “And yet you do anyway.”

Aelin stuck her tongue out at her friend, knowing the comment was too true to justify a middle finger. Her phone buzzed in her lap, signifying the text Aelin had been waiting for.

I’m 5 minutes away.

Aelin fought to keep her face neutral as she tucked the phone back into the pocket of her jeans and stood from her comfortable seat on the couch.

“You’re leaving?”

Aelin nodded, “Rowan just texted, he needs help with something at the bar.” A lie. “Meet us there later after the delivery has come?”

A serious invitation hidden within a number of half truths.

Lysandra dipped her head in a nod as Aelin swept to the front door, calling out her parting words as she did.

Once out the front door she allowed her smile to break through and it widened again as she spotted her cousin walking up the path in front of her. Aedion wore a shirt, and his golden hair was carefully styled. He was practically vibrating with excitement as he approached her.

“Good luck,” she whispered, not wanting to ruin the surprise.

“I don’t need it.” Aedion flashed an easy grin before wrapping one arm easily around her. “Thanks, Ae.”

Aelin drew back soon after. “Don’t make us wait too long to see you guys.”

Aedion only smirked.

“Gross,” Aelin couldn’t help screwing her eyes shut before turning away to make her exit. She flashed her cousin a final thumbs up as she got into her car and headed to where she knew she would find her boyfriend.

—

Rowan hadn’t changed much when he had taken over the bar, but what he had changed made it even more enjoyable. The first thing he had done was replace the ancient jukebox in the corner, he had replaced the jukebox with one that didn’t need to be turned off and on again every fifteen songs and had updated some of the music in its catalogue.

Each of their loft-mates had been allowed to offer suggestions for the updated library and Rowan had criticised every single one, his own music taste leaned into older rock songs Aelin had never heard, but the choices had all made their way in there anyway.

All apart from Lysandra’s only half-joking suggestion of a best-of-boy-bands compilation. That suggestion had received a hard no.

One of Lorcan’s choices, some alternative track with lots of drums, was playing as she made her way to the small office in the back corner of the bar. She nodded at the bartender who nodded back with a soft smile. He was a young man called Luca and he had been recommended by Malakai upon his exit. Aelin liked him, he was young and sweet but competent enough to make a mean drink.

She pushed through the door to the office and smiled as she took in the sight of her boyfriend. Even just the sight of him made her smile, and he smiled back as he dropped the papers he held.

Aelin flopped into Rowan’s lap, looping her arms around his neck as he leant in to kiss her. Even the softest brush of his lips against her own loosened every muscle in her body.

“Hey,” he murmured against her lips, unable to resist pressing another kiss to them.

“Hi.”

“Missed you.”

Rowan shared comments like that with a regularity that made her heart squeeze. Each one brought a kernel of warmth to her chest.

“You saw me this morning.”

“And?” His gaze was unwavering, and his sincerity made Aelin bite her lip.

“Everything all set for Aedion and Lysandra?” He asked smoothly.

“I left just as he arrived,” Aelin confirmed.

Rowan ran a gentle hand up and down her side as he spoke. “I’ll be relieved when it’s over and he’s finally asked her. I can’t give any more thought to the best way to propose to Lysandra.”

Aelin snorted as she pressed a kiss to his temple. She loved that her friends and family were all so intertwined. “He’s nervous, give him a break.”

“Why?” Rowan asked. “She’ll obviously say yes.”

Aelin cocked an eyebrow. “And you wouldn’t be nervous if you were proposing to the love of your life?”

Rowan shrugged. “Nope. I’m sure she’ll be very lovely and not at all scary. I’d have no doubt in my mind she’d say yes.”

She pinched the skin of his bicep and he hissed a laugh through his teeth.

“I can go if you need to find someone sweet.”

Aelin made to move off his lap but his hands tightened around her. “Don’t you dare.”

He skimmed his nose around her hairline, brushing the gentlest of kisses to her ear. A soft gasp crossed her lips at the sensation. Aelin leaned into the warmth of his hands at her hips and the touch of his lips at her neck as she turned to survey his desk.

“Working hard?” She asked playfully and Rowan buried his face in her neck and groaned. She ignored the heat that stirred in her at the sound and laughed as she petted his hair. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Invoicing is the worst. I have no idea how Malakai did it all on his own for so long, I don’t know how I haven’t made a catastrophic error yet.” Her boyfriend’s eyes widened. “Would I know if I had?”

Aelin laughed. Rowan worked hard and Aelin was confident he was handling the management of the bar well even if Rowan himself wasn’t. Financially there were no problems, the re-branding that had taken place after Rowan had assumed ownership had managed to attract a number of new regulars as well as large numbers of casual visitors that kept the bar easily filled with patrons.

One night, not long after Rowan had signed the papers giving him majority ownership, Fenrys had suggested a weekly karaoke night. The idea had started out as a joke until Elide had brought her tiny karaoke machine one evening and the bar had ended up packed with people cheering others on, so much so that Rowan had invested in a proper system and every Thursday hosted a karaoke night.

“Anything I can do to make it easier?” Aelin asked, scratching her nails against Rowan’s scalp.

He groaned again at the sensation and this time it was harder to ignore the heat stirring in her core. He looked up to her, his fingers curling more tightly around her hips, as his tongue darted out to moisten his lower lip.

“Do you know anything about accounting?”

Aelin laughed again.

“Absolutely not, but I know a lot about relieving stress.” She shifted where she sat in his lap, making sure to grind her backside against his groin. “And I have many techniques that I know are effective in releasing pressure.”

Rowan let out a deep, throaty sound at her words, pulling her hips down as he leant in to kiss her neck.

The start of their relationship had been a blur of passion. About a month into their relationship Aedion had attempted an intervention when he had walked in on them in a state of undress for the third time in a week, and Aelin loved that it hadn’t faded. She wanted Rowan every single time she was so much as in the same room as him, and even when she wasn’t.

Aelin tugged at the silver strands of Rowan’s hair as he trailed hot, wet kisses down her throat. She gasped as he scraped his teeth down across her jawline to nip lightly at her pulse point. She shifted impatiently in his lap and tugged his face up by his hair to press her lips to his.

His tongue caressed her lower lip and she eagerly opened to let him lick into her mouth. Each stroke of his tongue set her skin on fire and it wasn’t long until she was writhing in his lap.

“We don’t have long until the others are due.” Rowan slid his face back down to her neck, unable to draw his lips away from her skin.

“We have enough time if we’re quick.” Aelin heard the desperation in her voice, and Rowan did too if the way he rocked her across his lap was any indication.

“I don’t want to rush,” He said, his voice a low growl in his throat. “I want to take my time with you.”

“And you can.” Aelin pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Later. First let me be quick with you.”

Aelin stood off his lap and Rowan moaned his disappointment until she leaned back in to caress her hand over the bulge in his jeans. His head rolled back as his eyes fluttered shut and his hips jerked into her hand.

Aelin loved having Rowan at her mercy like this, usually he was the one who liked to take his time and watch her fall apart under his teeth and tongue until she was shaking and gasping his name, but Aelin loved to take care of him too.

She slid to her knees between his thighs and ran her hands up the thick muscles she felt straining against the desire to take her. She knew they didn’t have long so she wasted no time before unzipping his jeans and sliding a hand beneath.

Rowan’s head fell backwards against the back of his chair as her hand dipped into his boxers. Aelin bit her lip at the feeling of him, already hard and heavy in her hand. She gave a few pumps of her hand, enjoying the catch in his throat as she did, before tugging him out of his trousers.

Aelin trailed her hand along the length before wrapping her hand tighter and twisting slightly the way she knew he liked, enjoying the way his hips jerked off the chair slightly. She pressed her free hand to his hip, holding him in place as she leaned in to run her tongue up from his base to tip. At the first touch of her tongue his hips jerked forward and his hand slid into her hair.

“Easy,” She chided with a wicked smile. Aelin loved the way he reacted to her, the slightest touch would have him solid beneath her and kissing her forcefully the way she liked.

Rowan brushed his free hand along her cheek, before tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear.

“Beautiful,” He murmured, his voice low and thick with arousal. Aelin smiled up at him as she worked her hand again, and she let her gaze fall to where she held him, enjoying the contrast of her red nail polish against his skin.

He let out a curse under his breath as she leant in to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along his considerable length. His hand twisted more securely into her hair as she took him fully into her mouth, using her hand to work the base. He didn’t force her head, which she appreciated, but she loved the feeling of his hand holding her to him as she moved.

Aelin felt her eyes flutter shut, she loved doing this for Rowan, it made her feel sexy and the sounds he made were hotter than anything.

“Fuck,” He hissed. “You look so good like that.”

Aelin moaned, breathing in deeply through her nose as she bobbed her head. She loved how vocal Rowan was, how he would curse her name and anything he could think of as she worked her mouth around him.

She pulled back to press her tongue right under the tip, the way she knew sent him wild, and she was rewarded with a sharp thrust of his hips. She looked up to him finding his deep green eyes blown with lust as she swallowed around him. She read the question in his eyes and nodded as best as she could.

Rowan let out a groan. “Gods, I love you.”

His thumb trailed the corner of her lips as they stretched around him before sliding to join his other in her hair. Aelin moaned as he began to fuck her mouth, lifting his hips in a torturously slow rhythm that had Aelin grinding her hips against the air.

His pace increased as his hands twisted more tightly into her hair. Aelin moaned around his cock and he hissed a breath at the sensation. She slid her free hand down into her own jeans, matching her own strokes with Rowan’s thrusts and it wasn’t long until she felt her own climax building.

“Aelin,” Rowan cursed. “Oh, fuck.”

His eyes screwed shut tightly as his hips stuttered, Aelin moaned her permission as she stroked herself even faster. She was close, and the pulling of her hair combined with the hard thrusts into her mouth, timed perfectly with her own fingers, sent her quickly to a climax. Rowan’s hips jerked as he groaned, his head tipping to the side as he gasped her name.

“Gods.” His chest heaved as his jaw strained. “Fuck, Aelin I-I’m close.”

Aelin met his gaze and offered a shallow dip of her chin. Rowan clenched his jaw and screwed his eyes shut, each muscle in his powerful body straining beneath the touch of her tongue.

He spilled into her mouth with a groan, and Aelin swallowed around him, allowing her tongue to coax him along. He gave a few final shallow thrusts as he settled back into his chair, his eyes blinking open slowly to meet her own.

Aelin slid her hand out of her trousers as she drew her lips off him. She tucked his still half-hard cock back into his jeans and stood to press her lips to his, revelling in the blissed out expression on his handsome face. She crawled back onto his lap as his breathing evened out.

Finally, he blinked his eyes open and brought her hand to his lips to press a kiss to her fingers.

“You’re phenomenal, thank you,” He said, his voice still breathy. “But you did my job for me.”

Aelin smiled at the disappointed tone in his voice before she pressed her lips to his once more. “You can make it up to me later.”

He cocked a brow in a way that she knew meant he wanted to splay her out on this desk and taste her the way she had tasted him, but at that moment her phone chose to buzz. The second signal of the day.

“We have to go,” She said, beginning to slide off his lap. “We have a pair of fiancés to congratulate.”

Rowan grinned, a crooked flash of his teeth. “How long, do you think, until he asks me to be his best man?”

“I think he’ll ask Lorcan.”

“Right,” He grinned. “And Manon Blackbeak will be Lysandra’s maid of honour I assume.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little bit funny.”

“I think you’d prefer me being the maid of honour to your best man, much more than Manon. If it’s Manon your night won’t end up like today.”

He cocked a brow.

“You know, it’s tradition for the best man and maid of honour to hook-up in the bathroom and Manon would bite your dick off before she blew you.”

The fear in Rowan’s eyes drew a cackle from her chest.

“Don’t worry,” She patted his cheek with a hand before fully rising to her feet. “I’d protect you from the evil witch.”

Rowan smiled as she pulled him to his feet.

“And then I’d definitely blow you in the bathroom.”

“You’re filthy.”

“You love it.”

Rowan nodded, a sincere light in his eyes. “I do.”

He slung his arm around her shoulders as they made their way out into the main part of the bar to discover their friends already gathered in a booth. Lysandra sat in the center as Elide examined the sparkling diamond now gracing her left hand, Lorcan frowned at the same ring and Aelin barely managed to conceal her snort at the sight. She was sure Lorcan would get there someday, but she’d enjoy his discomfort in the meantime.

Aelin snuck out from under Rowan’s arm to throw her own around Aedion and Lysandra, unintelligibly cooing her congratulations and excitement. It was almost hard to believe sometimes, that her cousin and her best friend were together and now getting married.

“Nice of you to join us,” Fenrys snarked as she released her friend and collapsed onto Rowan’s lap. Aelin flipped him off, despite the wide grin she wore.

“We were barely late, we had things to finish off.”

Aedion winced as Lysandra and Fenrys cackled. Rowan hid his smile in her shoulder but she could feel his body shaking with laughter beneath her.

“Tell us more about these things you were finishing off Aelin.” Elide had a wicked glint in her eye.

“Please don’t.” Aedion sounded pained and even Lorcan grinned.

The booth was filled with her friends and roommates and Aelin wasn’t complaining as Rowan slung his arm around her waist, holding her tightly to his chest. Aelin pressed both of her palms to the table as she surveyed the group.

“I propose a toast,” she said. “To the happy couple.”

She made a gesture to Luca who flashed her a thumbs up and immediately made to collect enough glasses for the group.

“On the house I hope,” Lorcan quipped as Luca brought over a couple of bottles of champagne.

“When do any of you pay for drinks in here?” Rowan questioned as the group laughed.

Aelin leaned back into Rowan and lifted her glass in a toast. The sounds of her friends bickering wasn’t enough to damper the happiness she felt for Aedion and Lysandra, and the old Phil Collins song playing on the jukebox only added to the contentment she felt sitting in Rowan’s lap surrounded by her friends.

tags:

@jesstargaryenqueen

@maybekindasortaace

@slytheringalathynius

@http-itsrebecca

@morganofthewildfire

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato

@fictional-horan

@dressedindustandshadows

@sleeping-and-books

@perseusannabeth

@ireallyshouldsleeprn

@superspiritfestival

@spyofthenightcourt

@jlinez

@queen-of-glass

@booknerdproblems

@sjmships

@elriel4life

@bamchickawowow

@woollycat22

@claralady

@SHINYA-HIIRAGI

@fangirlprincess09

@darlinminds

@thenerdandfandoms

@danibutterr

@inthecityair

@autophobiaxx

@imaginedhaven

@endlessdaydream - I’m having an issue with this tag not sure why :(

@rowaelinismyotp

Thank you!

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #throne of glass #rowaelin fic #i'm going to miss this fic so much #it took me so long to post this because it means its done #thank you to everyone who ever let me know their thoughts about it #i love you #fingers crossed the tags work today #please let me know if they dont

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jay-in-chicago · 4 years ago

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Know The Risk.

Summary: Jay knows sleeping with his CI is enough to get him fired, but when she’s needed for an job, Jay can’t handle it. Pairing: Jay Halstead x unnamed female character. Characters: Jay, Voight, Olinsky. Warnings: mentions of drug dealing, weapon threat (gun), the suggestion of sexual favours in exchange for work (incredibly brief and not in detail), brief mention of sex (with Jay). Words: 2092 A/N: I’m pretty nervous to be posting this, so I’ll hit post and then go and hide. While I’m not new to writing, I am new to writing for the Chicago world. Apologies if the characterisation isn’t correct, I’m still learning. Not BETA’d because this is my first time here, so all mistakes, errors and typos are completely my own.

This was a request from my patreon account.

Likes, reblogs and feedback makes me squeal with happiness.

______

Jay’s been on edge ever since she stepped out of the car and headed towards the meeting point. He’d personally wired her up as he’d tried to keep his cool. His fingers had worked meticulously, and he’d made sure the camera attached to her blouse button was hidden. They needed to see as well as hear but the thought of her going in there alone made bile rise.

“I thought you wanted to solve this case?” she’d questioned, staring him down as she’d ran her tongue over her teeth as she watched him fretting.

“I do but not at this expense.” He’d whispered back, thankful the mic wasn’t live yet. To the rest of the team, she was simply one of Jay’s informants, nothing more than that. He had a few, mostly men but there were a few women who he could call on for a favour, though she’s the only one who had managed to get under his skin. She’d left such an impression on him that he couldn’t get her off his mind.

“Admit it,” she’d grinned at him, “if you weren’t milking me for information every opportunity you have, you’d be trying to get something else out of me.” He’d held out as long as he possibly could before she’d been invited to his apartment, the two of them finally giving in to what has been building for months. Jay had taken her with such relish, desperate to savour every moment of it not thinking for a moment it would be repeated.

But it had. That first time had unlocked something within the two of them, making them unable to resist one another. They’d find a way to have the conversations at either hers or his, she’d tell him everything he needed to know with each swipe of his tongue. Jay made sure he learnt what she liked as quickly as possible. He didn’t have an ego outside of the bedroom and ensured that it stayed the same inside of it but he couldn’t help it. The more she gave him, the more he wanted to take. The more he needed to take.

She’d have given him the information regardless but the coaxing, slow drawing of it, the way she’d withhold details unless he gave her an orgasm was all part of their foreplay. And for every arrest made, every case closed thanks to her, she was rewarded with even more. When Jay reached out to her about this case, she had the right connections, provided details and information that proved to be vital. She’d managed to worm her way in, met their main suspect a few times and managed to get close to being trusted as an outsider could, enabling her to be able to slip between members without being stopped. Or at least not initially.

Which is why she was the perfect candidate for heading in there tonight. Jay sits with headphones on, eyes barely moving from the screen. He hates every word that comes from her mouth. He knows she’s putting it on, but the seductive tone to it makes his cock stir against his wishes, the words should be making him shrink back against the seat in which he sits. She’s flirting with whoever she needs, their faces show the level of interest in her, the way they lick their lips as they drag their gaze down her body and wipe their thumb over the corner of their mouth as they chuckle and click their tongue.

She slipped through the crowd, searching for the one who they’d shown her the picture of until finally he came into view on the camera. Jay felt his body tense up, watching everything unfold on the screen before him. He’d seen what happened to people who got in his way, they were either in the ground or in the morgue and one wrong thing said, one tone off, one nervous hesitation and he’d know. The last thing Jay wanted was to watch her be taken down in front of his eyes, recorded for evidence and to be used whenever needed. The thought of it turned his stomach, had him biting at his nails with anxiety until he was sitting forward, his eyes widening as Darius played straight into her hand.

Jay knew better than anyone how good she was. She played the part incredibly well, and though he knew how she appeared to others, he was the one who saw her for who she really was. The version playing out on the screen for the team to see right now, that was flawless acting. Olinsky and Voight have exchanged glances at one another, muttered under their breath no doubt not wanting Jay to hear but he has. They comment on the way she held her cool, how convincing she appeared and how if they hadn’t had a conversation with her prior to sending her in there, they’d have believed her act. Pride licks at the edges of the raw anxiety ridden wound that festered with each passing minute.

“So you’re the one I’ve been hearin’ ‘bout?” his voice could be heard over the music, the way he looked at her made Jay’s stomach turn.

“depends what you’ve been hearing.”

His tongue slipped over his lips as he’d opened his legs, his hand resting against his inner thigh, the opposite leg swings open and closed as he watched her. “that you know someone who can take twenty keys and make me a lotta money.”

“That’s enough, we can get her out now, right?” Jay asked, moving the headset from one ear to look at Voight.

“Not yet,” his husky tone remained steady as his eyes stayed fixed on the screen.

“He just adm-”

“He didn’t admit anything. We need something concrete before we bust in there and mess up the whole thing.”

Jay clenched his jaw, kept listening and waiting impatiently for Darius to say something which could be used. He wasn’t a praying man but sitting there, with the screen having his full attention and her safety fully on his mind? Yeah, Jay was praying.

“listen yeah? Imma let your guy sell 8. See how that shifts. See if I can trust him.” Darius talks slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. What he means by trusting her buying is also seeing if he could trust her too. Jay knows how this works. You tell a small secret, or a lie, see what happens with it. Build it up until you decide if you can trust a person. If she delivers him the money for 8 and keeps the money coming in, she can be trusted with more product. “After that, we’ll look at somethin’ bigger yeah?”

Darius’s gaze drops down her body, takes in the curves of her body, the ones that Jay knows too well. His blood boils but he forces his hand to remain relaxed. If he clenched his hand, showed his emotion which could be taken exactly for what it is, he’d be packing his desk in a box and walked out of the building before the ink had dried on his paperwork.

Come on you son of a bitch, give me one good reason not to land a punch on you the second I get my hands on you.

“Like what?”

“Look at you thinkin’ big.” He runs his tongue back over his lips as he watches her. “I like the way your mind works. How bout that mouth?”

“What about it?”

“Wanna taste somethin’ on mine? You gonna be sellin’ it, don’t you wanna taste first? See how good it is” he asks, the fingers of the hand that rests against his thigh drums over his clothes.

“You’re giving me a freebie?”

“Bitch, ain’t nothing free here.” He scoffs, unable to believe she really asked that. “You want my H? You gotta show me how much you want it.” His hand moves, fingers tracing over his belt, snapping it open in one fluid motion. The explanation clear.

“We go now.” Voight’s voice rings out behind Jay. His headset is snapped away from him within seconds and he’s on his feet, out of the van with the others following.

___

“Jay?” Neither have really said a word since they got back to the precinct. She wanted to, was desperate to fill the silence with mindless chatter like they would usually but the look on his face tells her he’d rather have this than talk. “Jay.” She tries again and only now do his light eyes flicker up to her face. His hands still work, removing her wires, her camera and anything else which could pick the two of them up. Anything which could be used against them. “Are you not going to say anything?”

“I will once my heart leaves my throat.”

“I did ok though, right? You’d use me again.”

“You terrified me half to death, that’s what you did.”

“But did I do ok?”

He sighs, locks his jaw and stares at her as his hands drop to his side, the devices tightly fixed in his fist. “You did and that’s the problem.”

Her brow furrows, “pro-”

“Yes, problem. Do you realise how convincing you were? If we hadn’t come in when we had? He could’ve-”

“but he didn’t.”

“But he could have.”

“I knew the risk when I agreed to do this.” She lifts her face, angles her chin defiantly at him.

“So did I but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about the way he was or how it was playing out.” Turning his back briefly to put the device into the box it came from, he can’t wipe the memory of the camera from his mind.

They’re downstairs, away from security cameras, away from mics; the only two in that area are the ones Jay has just disconnected and put away. Alone, with no footsteps approaching, she steps forward and pulls him into a hug. “I’m fine. You came at exactly the right time. Maybe if you came in minutes after? That could have been a different story. Look at me, he barely touched me.” She says, ignoring the way her head throbs at the memory of how he’d grabbed her hair so tightly she thought he planned to rip clumps from her scalp as he’d dragged her to her feet and held a gun to her temple, using her as a shield. Her heart rate had only just calmed but the intense way that Jay stared at her made it pick up a little more. “I’m ok because of you.”

“But if I hadn’t.” His voice cracks a little and that one sound? That one sound breaks her.

“Hey,” moving his hand, she presses it against her chest, “see, I’m alive because of you and your team. Don’t beat yourself up over what could be. I’m here. Unhurt. And I’d do it again if it meant I could be of use to you.”

“Your information helps enough. I don’t need you almost getting attacked or killed just so we can take someone down. There are other ways.”

“If it wasn’t me in that position Jay, it would have been someone else. Would you have felt better having someone else have that gun pressed against their head just because it wasn’t me? Because I wouldn’t.”

When he says nothing, just continues to stare at her, she nuzzles her nose against his jaw, over his throat before pressing her lips to him, feeling the rough stubble as it grazes against her soft skin. “You’re feeling this because you acted as you should.” she presses more kisses, up the underside of his jaw and finally over the curve of it, her lips dragging towards his lips until he finally moves, dipping his face to meet her lips with his own and kisses her with all the pent up emotion he’d been keeping in, now barely to hold himself back after just a taste of her again.

“We can’t do this here.” He groans, forcing himself to pull away from her. Her eyes are dilating, her chest rises and falls from the rapid breathing. “You know where the spare key is for my place right? I’ll meet you there. You need to go now before I take you into the supply closet and get fired.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure I’m naked.” She says, stepping towards him and pulling his lip between her teeth, nibbling on it just enough to draw a long groan from him before letting it go with a satisfying pop.

#jay halstead imagine #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead fanfic #jay halstead one shot #jay halstead drabble #jay halstead smut #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd fanfic #chicago pd drabble #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd one shot

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tetsunormous · 4 years ago

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His tongue swirls inside for a moment, gathering the sweet taste of your slick in his mouth before he’s pulling it back with a hum, savouring the way it explodes across his tastebuds. When he’s diving back in, it’s with more purpose; his tongue is further down, sliding across your clit. He groans against you, intent in the way he uses the tip of his tongue to draw circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. He still has to learn your body and the way that it ticks.

The way you’d choked back your initial sounds has him believing that you’d do that to others, but it might be best, he thinks. He’ll bring you somewhere else someday (he hopes, at least), so that he can hear every sound you make without the fear of getting caught. Erwin works his tongue skillfully, pulling back a moment later to admire the way his spit has mixed with your sweet juices. “You taste so fucking good, sweetheart.” He chuckles, pressing his index and middle finger to your entrance, teasing a little. “Look at this slutty little cunt.” Then, he slipped his fingers inside to the second knuckles with a groan, pads slipping across velvety walls. “Already sucking my fingers in. Gonna grip my cock like this too, princess?”

- Erwin

I realize this is real nsfw lmao imma put it under the cut

*I shut my mouth close to try to silence all the moans that I want to let out. He feels like he’s feasting and I mean, girly pop has a scrumptious kitty so what can she say. When his tongue glides across my clit I can’t help but let a whine out, my fingers gripping the railing hard. The knees wobble a little at the attention on my clit and I really wanna just squeeze his head like a watermelon right about now*

*his words have me looking down at him, my bottom lip between my teeth as I nod frantically. I look to him with desperation when his fingers slip inside, squirming at his teasing.* “g-gonna grip you so good, sir. I promise”

#daddy erwin 🐎#j chats 💬#I’m gonna go outside #and lay on some grass

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yeetedintoouterspaces · 4 years ago

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🎵☁️💫 I love you 3000- Bokuto Kotaro x Reader 🎵☁️💫

~🎵 I see you standing there

In your hulk underwear

And all I can think

Is where is the ring 🎵 ~

Seeing Bokuto walking around the house in his hulk underwear was an astonishing sight. Don't get Y/n wrong, it was a sight to behold but it was extremely charming too. Y/n rolled her eyes. This is the man she fell for over and over. She still falls for his charm, it's a never ending cycle of falling for him everyday. But that's why she loves him and him only.

She just wants to marry him there and then.

~ 🎵 'Cause I know you wanna ask

Scared the moment will pass

I can see it in your eyes

Just take me by surprise 🎵 ~

Bokuto looked at the girl. All he could think was "Wow". Y/n is beautiful and adorable. Her smile could easily light up a pitch black room and she could make anyone's day. He has the ring in his pocket now. Contemplating whether he should pop the question.

Y/n looked at the man. She knew something was up but she couldn't put her finger on it. "Kotaro, you alright?" Y/n asks. Her soothing yet sweet voice was music to his ears. Bokuto's hand clutched onto the ring in his pocket. He played it off cool and shook his head.

"Damn it, I missed my shot" He thought to himself.

~🎵 And all my friends they tell me they see

You're planning to get on one knee

But I want it to be out of the blue

So make sure I have no clue

When you ask 🎵 ~

"Y/n-chan~ I hear Bokuto is planning to ask you a little something~" Maki, Y/n's bestfriend teased. Y/n cocked her head to the side, "what do you mean?" The girl tried to play dumb, though she knew exactly what her friend meant. Even if it was true, Y/n prayed to God it would be a total surprise.

~🎵 Baby, take my hand

I want you to be my husband

'Cause you're my Iron Man

And I love you 3000 🎵 ~

Y/n held her hand in Bokuto's. They were larger and rougher than hers but that's what she loves about them. He is a hardworking man that perseveres and Y/n wishes that more people would see that in him. She rubbed circles on the base of his hand and comments, "your hands are big Bokuto."

He nods enthusiastically, "your tiny hands are cute Y/n." She smiles back and leans on his shoulder, "Kotarou, I love you."

"I love you too!" He casually says. Y/n could never get enough of his enthusiastic personality. It's just admirable and inspirational to her. "That's why I love you." Y/n thought to herself as she savoured every second of the moment.

~🎵 Baby, take a chance

'Cause I want this to be something

Straight out of a Hollywood movie 🎵 ~

"Ne Y/n, if I were to let's say... propose, how would you want me to?" Bokuto asks. Y/n thought about it for a while. Hmm... what DOES she want?

"I want it to be something straight out of a Hollywood movie! Not saying that I want something extravagant but I want something fun and out of the box I guess?"

Bokuto wasn't being the most secretive about his whole propsal plan but it was quite fine. Y/n was just wondering what her dear boyfriend will come up with!

~🎵 Now we're having dinner

And baby you're my winner

I see the way you smile

You're thinking about the aisle 🎵 ~

The two lovers were now eating away in a fancy restaurant together. Usually they don't splurge on things but Y/n wanted to go here for months so Bokuto surprised her by booking a spot her. Everyone including Y/n was surprised that Bokuto knew how to book seats! Y/n was genuinely happy and proud of Bokuto.

As Y/n was chomping down her food, ( as gracefully as possible of course ;) ) Bokuto couldn't help but to chuckle at the sight. "This is the woman I'm going to marry." He thought to himself. He smiles at the sight of his lover, savouring every bite of her food.

He couldn't help but to imagine her in a wedding dress, walking down the aisle, and him waiting on the other side.

"Ko-kun? What are you thinking about?" Y/n asked as she smiles at him. It wasn't often that the two spent a lot of time together. Not saying that it was rare but yeah, time was hard to come by for the two.

"Nothing sweetheart! Continue eating!!! You look adorable chomping down on the food."

But deep-down, Y/n knew that he was thinking of something else.

~🎵 You reach in your pocket

Emotion unlocking

And before you could ask

I answer too fast 🎵 ~

Bokuto wanted to catch Y/n off-guard by proposing while she was eating. He reached into his pocket for the tiny box and pulled it out. His heart was beating hard. This was it.

He got onto one knee and before he could say his lines, Y/n squealed and exhaled a loud yes.

Right there and then the two were confused. "W-wait Y/n you didn't know what I was going to say though."

Y/n blushes hard and face palms herself. What has she done! Now it's all weird and awkward! Y/n apologised and shyly said, "sorry Ko-kun, you should continue. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Bokuto couldn't help but to fall for her even more. Gosh, she is so cute and weird. That's what he loves about her.

( a/n: hey uhm, imma skip a few songlines here because they wouldn't fit in this context. Im sorry guys!!! 🙇‍♀️ )

~🎵 Baby, take my hand

I want you to be my husband

'Cause you're my Iron Man

And I love you 3000🎵 ~

Bokuto said what he has been wishing to tell Y/n after all these years and Y/n couldn't help but to cry tears of joy. After all these years, he was still the same highschool boy she fell for. After all these years, he was still the passionate volleyball player people love him for.

After all these years, they still love each other.

Bokuto slipped the ring onto his lover's finger and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. He got up and the two embraced each other tightly. "I want you and only you to be my husband." Y/n muttered out in a shaky voice.

"Because you are like my superhero. I love you so much." The girl continued.

Bokuto chuckles and strokes her back gently, "Ne Y/n, I love you 3000."

~🎵 And I love you 3000 🎵 ~

After the whole extravaganza, the two walked to the car together, hand in hand. What a wonderful day today. The two loved each other more than ever and everyone around them could feel their strong love for each other.

Y/n kissed his cheek and said in a sing-song tone,

"I love you 3000~."

☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆

A/n: woot woot! My first songfic! That was fun!!! Hope yall liked it and yeah! Stay safe and drink lots of water okay? ♡

#bokuto scenario #bokuto scenarios #bokuto imagine #hq bokuto #bokuto x reader #bokuto kotarou #bokuto kotaro x reader #bokuto kotaro #bokuto x y/n #bokuto x you #haikyuu #haikyuu bokuto #kotarou x reader #kotaro x reader #yeetedintoouterspace

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lovelybuccky · 5 years ago

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Three Things That Are Certain (Chapter 7)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Your mother once taught you that when you feel afraid, you should look at your surroundings and find at least three things that are certain, just three things that you know to be true. However, a collection of photos are found from different points in history, and you are in every single one. Questions are being raised, and you are finding it more and more difficult to name those three things. But he is there to remind you of what they are.

Warnings: Violence, profanity, graphic violence and descriptions of pain in later chapters.

A/N: Right, imma be real with you here. I found this chapter really hard to write and I still don’t like it, but I just wanna post it because it’s been so long since I posted the last chapter. I’m excited to write the next few chapters because we’re starting to get somewhere in this story, but yeah. This one was tricky. I’m sorry! I hope you enjoy it anyway hahaha.

Previous Chapter

Previously...

The night is filled with laughs and smiles, a few carefree hours in an otherwise extremely intense week. You feel warmth bubble in your chest and you let yourself relax into the group, finally starting to feel less like a lab rat seeing yourself and everyone else as what you all are - human beings.

Maybe you could get used to this. Maybe you could hold on a little longer.

Maybe, just this once, you can allow yourself the privilege to love again.

***

2 months later

“Sam! You can’t do that!”

“It was self-defence.”

“You pulled my hair!”

“Any attacker could pull your hair, Y/N! You need to be prepared for these things!”

“Jerk!”

“Brat!”

Steve, Nat and Bucky chuckle quietly form the sidelines as you and Sam “train” - though there is definitely more bickering going on than sparring.

Gentle training had started around a month ago, and it was mainly to determine how physically fit you were and to prepare you for when you eventually left the compound. However, much to their surprise, you held your own in every fight against every Avenger, and frankly, they were impressed. So impressed even, that they offered you a job.

Not as an Avenger, though. Considering your situation and condition, missions would be too risky and, most importantly, your safety would be jeopardised. Instead, they gave you the responsibility of training new agents in self-defence; that was your speciality after all. You were hesitant to take the job, but reluctantly you agreed, telling yourself that it was the least you could do whilst they let you stay at the compound. And besides, it would keep you busy.

Now, training with the Avengers was simply to keep you fit and on your toes. You laugh and you have fun, but they don’t patronise you by going easy. They don’t hold back, and neither do you.

At least, you don’t think so.

Bucky watches you with razor sharp focus, noting every punch, dodge and kick. It’s a pretty even fight between you and Sam, but with every strike you make, he notices one thing - you hesitate.

It’s only for a split second each time, something that nobody notices. Nobody except Bucky.

Like just now, you ducked instantly as Sam threw a punch your way, but as you went to punch his stomach, there was once fleeting moment where you stopped. It was this that made Bucky remember that you learned these skills not out of choice, but out of fear. You weren’t a soldier who chose to march onto the battlefield, not a vigilante who chose to hunt down the bad guys. You were a child, a child who just wanted to survive, and that made Bucky see red.

His trance is broken by a grunt from Sam.

“Shit, Y/N!”

“What?” you reply innocently.

Sam was now curled up in a ball as he lay on the mat, “You-you can’t just-kick a man…there.”

You smile sweetly, “It was self-defence. Any attacker could kick you in the balls, Sam! You need to be prepared for these things!”

“Alright you two,” Steve interrupts, trying to hide the laughter in his voice. He fails. “That’s enough for today, tomorrow we’ll do more defence work, then move on to some team exercises.”

“Ooo can’t wait,” Nat groaned, though the wink she throws at you sends you both into giggles as you hoist Sam to his feet, “Thanks for training today, Sam. You might wanna put some ice on that though.”

Sam sticks his tongue out at you as he give you a playful shove, “You’re just lucky you’re cute.”

Bucky knows it’s a joke, and the snort in your laugh tells him that you know it too, but that doesn’t stop the little twinge in his chest. It’s just a joke, why has it sparked such a reaction in him? He has no idea what it is, but he knows it’s pissing him off.

Sam follows Steve and Nat out of the gym, leaving just you and Bucky. You start to pick up your things when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn around, “Oh, hello, Sir. Did you need something? Hearing aid broken? Want help crossing the road? Shall I pass you your cane?”

Bucky rolls his eyes, “You’re hilarious. C’mon, my turn.”

He struts towards the mat. You cock an eyebrow, “Excuse me?”

“Sparring. You and me.”

“Right now?”

A smirk, “Right now.”

You throw your bag back onto floor, following him to the mat. “Oh, Buck, I thought you’d never ask,” you purr, fluttering your eyelashes at him.

He rolls his eyes again, though more playfully this time, “Focus, Y/N,” you both square up. “Hit me.”

“What-”

You blink, and suddenly you’re on floor, staring up through squinted eyes at Bucky as he holds his hand out for you. You hit it away and push yourself onto your feet, “What the hell was that?!”

“You hesitated,” Bucky said evenly, “you gotta act the moment you get the chance, not a second later, got it?”

“Yes, Mr Barnes.”

You continue sparring for around half an hour, and Bucky shows you no mercy. You give it your all until you unceremoniously collapse on the floor and refuse to move, “Okay, I get it, Buck. No more hesitating, I’ll work on it.”

He can’t help the grin that creeps up his face, “You sure you don’t want another round?”

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“So lazy,” he says with a wink as he flings your gym bag over his shoulder, “We’ll pick this up again tomorrow, but right now you’re in desperate need of a shower.”

“Nope. No can do. You’ve broken me. I can’t move, I’ll have to lay here forever,” you state dramatically.

He sighs, “Not even if I baked you cookies?”

You peak your eye at him then, “You bake?!”

“They suggested it to me in therapy, something about ‘mindfulness’, gives you something to focus on. And I’m a terrific baker, thank you very much!” You laughed at that, and made Bucky smile in return. “So, what do ya say? Coffee and cookies at around noon?”

You pretend to think about it, humming and scratching your chin. After a few moments, you finally drag yourself off the floor, “Fine, but they better be some pretty damn good cookies.”

Bucky chuckles, “Oh, trust me, they’re the best. Just like Ma used to make ‘em.”

“Softy.”

“Shut up.”

A trail of giggles follow you as you leave the gym, your previous lethargy soon forgotten.

***

You bounce onto the couch, two cups of coffee in hand. You hand Bucky his as you take a sip of your own, your hair still damp from your shower. Curling up on the couch you turn to face him, “So, these are the famous cookies, huh?” you say, nodding towards the plate on the coffee table.

“Yes ma’am.”

Bucky reaches over and grabs the plate, holding it under your nose. You study each one in search of the perfect cookie. You examine them for longer than necessary, brows furrowed. Bucky chuckles at your evidently intense concentration. Finally, you choose the cookie that is the perfect golden-brown, and has just the right distribution of chocolate chips. You take your time with your first bite, savouring the taste, but it’s not long until your eyes widen and Bucky throws his head back with laughter.

“Jesus Christ.”

“So you like ‘em?”

“They’re fucking glorious,” you state, crumbs falling from your mouth as you try to speak.

A chuckle, “Like I said, Ma’s recipe.”

“Well, thank you Ma.”

The conversation is pretty light as you continue to munch on the baked goods and sip on your coffee. Somehow throughout the conversation, you had swung your legs on Bucky’s lap and covered you both with a blanket, a distant murmur of the radio playing in the background as he rubs circles on your knee.

You had found yourself doing this more in the last month, this unnecessary physical contact. But there’s nothing sexual about it and you certainly don't have an objective, it’s just become a comfort for you, and Bucky doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he appreciates it. He’d become used to people running away from him in fear and tip-toeing around him as if he could snap at any moment, but the way that you feel safe with him and find comfort in his presence makes his soul glow.

You peak up at him from behind your mug, mischief etching your features, “So, Steve tells me you were quite a dancer back in the day.”

“Oh God.”

Your smirk grows wider, “So it’s true? How you used to ‘woo’ all the dames with your killer moves and boyish charm?”

“Okay first of all, I’m gonna kick his stupid star-spangled ass.” You snort at that. He smiles, “Secondly, I was the best dancer in Brooklyn, no lady could resist.”

You roll your eyes fondly, “And he’s modest,” you nudge him with your shoulder, “It doesn’t matter anyway, you could be the worst dancer ever and I would have no clue.”

“No?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t have anything to compare it to.”

He stops, “Oh c’mon, don’t tell me you never went out dancing.”

“Well, I never really got the chance. People my age only started going out when they turned sixteen, and when I was sixteen…”

Your voice trails off, but Bucky understands where it was going. Your smile remains, but the light behind your eyes has faded, and Bucky’s heart aches. You really did have your whole life stripped away from you, leaving you bare in the cold grasp of Hydra. You never got to live your life. You never even got to dance.

Well that just wouldn’t do.

Bucky leaps out of his place on the couch and heads towards the speakers. He’d managed to convince Tony let him make a playlist of all his favourite songs from the 40s, which wasn’t quite the same as playing the original records, but it had to do. He scrolled through the list to find the perfect track before strolling back to where you were on the couch and stretching his hand out for you to take, “C’mon, doll, can’t leave a man hangin’.”

You pretend to consider his offer, looking back and forth between his hand and his face. Finally you give in and take his hand as he pulls you to the centre of the room.

It’s messy, no real sense of rhythm or grace, but Bucky doesn’t care; as long as he can hear the laughter spilling from you lips. Sure, you step on his foot a few times, and sure you are practically dragging him across the room as you attempt a ‘tango’, but he doesn’t care. You sound happy and confident, an almost completely different woman to the one he made coffee for at three in the morning. God, he thought to himself, that was only two months ago. Time really does fly by when-

“You need some help, Barnes? That lady seems to be manhandling you. Blink twice if you need me to call security.”

“Ha-ha, very funny Tony.” Your arms fall down from around his neck, and he's only just realising how close you were standing. Not that it bothers him, why would it?

“Well, if you're done frolicking around then I have an announcement for you two. Next week I’m hosting a gala to raise money for…”

Tony continues giving all the details about dress-code and special guests and what not, but Bucky’s no longer listening. The only thing he’s concentrating on is how he felt you tense up at the word ‘gala’. He looks down at you, your eyes appear focused on Tony but he can see the panic behind them. He looks back to Tony, “Okay, Stark, thank you. We’ll do our best to help with preparations.”

“I’m glad. If you have any questions, ask Pepper.”

And with that, he was gone. Bucky turned you to towards him, scanning your face, “Hey, you okay?”

You tilt you head up towards him, the intensity of his gaze suddenly making you feel very exposed, “Yeah, yeah I’m good. It’s just…” You pause, considering you next words, “It’s the first time being back in the public eye, you know? It’s been a while, and considering what happened last time…”

“Hey, hey, you don’t have to go if you don’t feel comfortable. I can tell Tony-“

“No, no, it’s okay. Thank you, but I think it would be good for me. Sure it’ll be a little difficult, but I’m always up for a challenge.”

“…Apart from when we're sparring.”

“That’s rude.”

The tension melts away as laughter fills the room once more, but there's still the faint sounds of alarm bells ringing in your head. It’ll be fine, you tell yourself, you’re friends with the Avengers for crying out loud, nothing will go wrong. You're safe.

…Right?

***

Next Chapter // Masterlist

A/N: Yeah...I told you, not great. But I’m proud that I actually managed to finish it lmao. Any feed is really appreciated!

Tags:

@letsthedogpackandthecats // @joe-mazzello-is-my-dad // @xenwayy

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

37 notes · View notes

mercurytail · 6 years ago

Text

Shifting Sands Chapter 4

:D I proudly present Chapter four! Thanks to @the-hallowed-lady for betaing.

Please be aware that this chapter contains Sexual content.

Please Leave comments they keep me going <3 I Love you all!

Enjoy!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15223778/chapters/35309981

Shifting Sands Chapter 4

(Important: The weapon later in the story used by the bounty hunter in Mexico is a modified bolo tie, it is made of wire and the pendant is a heating fixture, it enables the tie to decapitate and cauterize when cinched.)

McCree stirs just as the first light kisses the horizon, turning the sky into an array of blazing orange, vermillion, and lavender; the shy blue basking amongst them. McCree stands and looks to the other room, Hanzo lies on the bed, chest rising and falling steadily. He turns to the cabinet and grabs a bottle of painkillers; god knows he’ll need um. ‘So much for a ‘good night’s sleep’’, He downs four pills with a glass of water.

He peels off his shirt and leans over the sink to wash his hair. He then cleans up his face in the mirror. Satisfied with his priming, he briefly considers grabbing a clean shirt but decides against it so as not to awaken Hanzo. He tosses his old shirt in the corner with the rest of his dirty clothes. He peels off the gauze from his wound and treats it, then dresses it with clean dressings.

When finished, he stows the kit away and returns to the kitchen. He doesn’t have much in the ways of food, but with the rye bread, dried heirloom beans, bacon, leftover avocado and peach preserves, there is the makings of a decent meal in his opinion. He sets his beans to soak and looks over the route they’ll take to his supplier in Santa Fe.

He occupies himself while the beans soak with a cigarillo outside. A couple hours pass and he walks back in. He heats a pan and cooks up the bacon, while two slices of bread tick away in the toaster. He takes the beans from the water and fries them in the leftover bacon grease. Once they're cooked to his liking he mashes them and smears some on half a slice of toast, he lays avocado over them. He spoons a dollop of peach preserves on the side and calls it good.

*grunt*

McCree hears Hanzo stir in the other room. He smirks to himself and scoops up the plates.

***

Hanzo wakes to the sunlight streaming from under the door, he sits up with a groan. The smell of bacon wafts through the air. Hanzo turns and places his feet on the floor, but before he can stand the door opens.

“Mornin’” McCree greets him. Shirtless.

“Good Morning,” Hanzo nods briefly stunned by the man’s soft-toned muscular chest. A water droplet glides down McCree’s chest from his still slightly damp hair.

“Figured’ you’d be mighty famished, what with the day you had yesterday,” He places the plate down on Hanzo’s lap. Then quickly returns with two glasses of water. He sits down on the floor across from Hanzo with his own plate in hand.

Hanzo’s takes in the meal on his lap. The golden preserves are nestled up against the glistening crispy bacon. Hanzo soon realizes just how starved he feels with the pain that blossoms in his gut, he drools slightly. He snaps from his trance and wipes the drool on the back of his hand. He picks up a strip of bacon and scoops up the sweet preserves onto it. The sweet and salty flavor is heavenly in his mouth.

He notices McCree waits kindly till he’s nearly done with his beans on toast to speak.

“So, if you were headed to Gibraltar, How’d you end up here?” McCree says as he finishes chewing a strip of bacon and reaches for his water glass.

Hanzo takes a strip of avocado, chews and swallows it before answering. “As I stated before, I do not know. I had been on a job in Germany when they double-crossed me, I was forced to flee and the last I remember is being confronted with a bomb. I destroyed it. After the explosion, I found myself here.”

“Did you use your lightning to destroy it?” McCree inquires.

“Yes…” Hanzo now finished eating, sips at his water.

“Sounds to me like you might a’ made a rift, what with all that energy being concentrated in one place.” McCree shrugs.

“Rift? Like a kind of space rift?” Hanzo furrows his brow in ah that McCree would have this type of knowledge.

“Yeah, had it happen to me once back in my service days. One second, I was facin’ off against some baddies in Russia, the next, I’m laid out on my ass in the middle a flock of sheep in New Zealand. Helluv’ a ride. Took Winston two weeks to figure out what had happened.” McCree stands and motions for Hanzo’s plate.

“I see…” Hanzo hands the plate over and leans back on his arms on the bed. “By any means, the coincidence of my appearance here was a blessing in disguise for the both of us it seems.” McCree flashes him a wide smile and walks to the kitchen. Hanzo follows.

McCree places the plates in the sink and gives them a quick rinse. “I’m assumin’ you’ll want to shower before we head out. Imma’ pack up some things and get my bike ready.” McCree walks into the bedroom, Hanzo hears him rustling around. The man returns carrying a bundle of clothes and a sleek grey duffle bag. “Help yourself to anything ya’ see.” McCree motions to the soaps near the shower and then proceeds to exit the shack leaving Hanzo to himself.

Hanzo looks at the door for a short moment, He then walks over to his bag and pulls out his comb, razor, and tea soup bar. He lays them on the floor by the wall mirror. He peels off his remaining clothes and folds them individually, laying them over the back of the leather recliner. Lastly, he pulls the yellow silk tie from his hair; it cascades over his shoulders. He reaches up and runs his fingers over his scalp, savouring the release. He turns the knob and allows it to heat up before stepping under the spray.

Hanzo’s sharp cheekbones glisten in the light. He scrubs his hands over the hardened edge of his abs and hip bone. His hard-toned body feels good under is touch. He takes his razor and runs over every inch of himself; he trims up his unruly lower bush, and then trims his beard. He washes his face and hair then rinses off. He towels off and wrings out his hair, then ties it into a high ponytail, his hair and silken ribbon drape down his back. He slips on a black cut-out tank and his Aztec designed pants and puts his gear over top, he then sits in the leather chair to lace and buckle up his boots.

He moves over to his bag and checks its contents. He will need to replace his missing knife, as well as a heady set of arrows and arrowheads. He reaches for Storm bow and gives it an once-over. His bow could use tuning when there was time for it. He repacks then straps on his bag and quiver and places Storm bow over his shoulder.

He then walks out into the morning sun. It’s not hot quite yet but Hanzo senses that will soon change. He talks off his jacket and ties it around his waist. He then turns and makes his way to the back of the shed, where he hears McCree scuffling about.

***

McCree walks around to the back of the shed and opens the hatch. He climbs down into the basement and walks over to his workbench. He places the duffle bag and change of clothes down. He turns and strips, then slips on the clean Shirt and brown suede pants, he rolls up the bottom a couple loops. He folds and places the dirty clothes in the duffle.

He then takes his chest armour off the wall and straps it on. He turns back and takes the chaps off the wall from where they’re hanging and folds them; placing them in the duffle. He takes his holster and straps it on placing Peacekeeper in her place. He unzips a side pocket of the duffle and places spare bullets and flash bangs in it, as well as essentials such as painkillers, sterile wrap, a flashlight, granola bars, and a tin for water.

He places the packed duffle in the saddle bag of the Atlas and buckles it. He slips his switch knife and the bike keys in his pocket, then wraps on his serape; topping it all off with his beloved hat. He takes his bike and pulls it up out onto the packed desert clay then closes and latches the hatch.

Hanzo walks around the corner.

“All packed and ready to go.” McCree tips his hat at Hanzo and winks. “You look refreshed.”

Hanzo ignores the gesture, “The shower was agreeable. Is this the only mode of transportation you have?” Hanzo motions to the Atlas, less than pleased.

McCree cocks his head and looks from the bike to Hanzo and back. “If you’re hatin’ on her, you can just walk. Or we could travel by Sand,” McCree looks Hanzo in the eye. “Or lightning in your case.”

Hanzo bristles, “That would be unsafe and impractical for energy conservation.”

To that McCree moves to the bike and mounts it. He turns and pats the back seat, grinning at Hanzo. Hanzo walks over and saddles the bike behind McCree.

McCree starts the bike and looks back at Hanzo. “Hold on Darlin’,” McCree kicks the bike to life and guns off. Hanzo flails back but finds his hands soon clasp securely around McCree’s waist. He frowns slightly to himself from how much he likes it more than he should. McCree grins to himself all the while. They fall into a comfortable silence.

***

They make it to the supplier in Santa Fe by the late afternoon.

McCree pulls into the alleyway and knocks on the side door of a redbrick apartment building in a rundown part of town. Hanzo stands beside him. A cat walks out from behind a dumpster, completely black all over except for two small white dots just above its brow arches. “You have horns, my friend.” It mewls at him; Hanzo bends down and calmly strokes it. The small hatch at eye level on the door slides open and McCree exchanges words with the man.

Soon the door swings open and they are let inside. The cat follows. The room inside is small, each wall of redbrick possess a fluorescent bar light. The wall across from the door has a waist-high counter, above that are bars to protect the seller; flaking green paint hanging from them. On the left wall is a pair of Iron doors, their glass windows fogged with years of grime. One door is cracked, showing a training mat and small target range inside. The cat leaps up onto the counter and squeezes under the bars, there is a small red pillow on a stool on the opposite side, it jumps up and rolls over on the pillow, all four paws in the air stretching languidly. The man who opened the door seals it and sits down on a padded chair in the corner. He picks up his newspapers and resumes reading it. He’s bulky but seemingly unarmed. But they all know that is a lie.

McCree makes his way up to the counter and knocks on it. “Melanie, you here?”

“Jesse, what brings your sorry ass to my shop?” A thin woman with bright purple shoulder length hair and a septum piercing walks out from the shadows among rows of shelves, she’s tan with black lipstick; a small gold chain hangs around her neck. She wears all skin-tight white clothes. “Oh! And you’ve brought company.” Her eye peruses Hanzo, “Mmmmm, and what fine company it is.”

“Don’t you got a man back home Mel?” McCree raises a brow.

“Just because a girl’s on a diet doesn’t mean she can’t browse the menu, and maybe taste test a little. Now, are you here for business? Or pleasure?” She places her hand on the counter and leans toward Hanzo accentuating her chest.

Hanzo sneers disinterestedly and looks to McCree.

“Sorry Mel, we’re here on pure business. I need a case of bullets and a bottle of gun oil. Also, whatever he needs.” McCree motions with his thumb back at Hanzo.

Hanzo moves forward, “I require a set of arrows, arrowheads, and a serrated pocket knife.”

“’humph’, aren’t you both needy.” She grins at them, “give me an hour and I’ll have it ready for you.” She waves them off and disappears back amongst the shelves, her bladed heels clicking in the darkness.

McCree turns to Hanzo, “you wanna’ spar to pass the time?”

Hanzo huffs amusedly, “I doubt you will present much of a challenge.”

McCree grins wickedly, “Hey now, don’t knock me till you try me.” He flicks his nose with his thumb and saunters into the training room. He removes his armor, hat, serape, and boots. Hanzo follows and removes his arm guard, bag, and boots. They both face each other on the mat and Hanzo bows then ready himself. “Now Darlin’ don’t you feel you have to take it easy on me.” McCree brings his fists up.

McCree swings forward with his left hand. Like a whip, Hanzo flashes out grabs McCree’s arm, curls into him and flips him over his shoulder onto the mat. “I never take it easy.”

McCree grunts on the mat, he rolls over and stands back up. He looks up at Hanzo with a wolfish grin. “Again.”

They ready themselves once more. Hanzo strikes out, going yet again for a disarm and takedown. McCree responds my fanning away. He surges back with a fake left jab when Hanzo responds he then glides his right arm around Hanzo’s head and pulls it back straight against his spine and forces him to the floor. Hanzo collapses and stares up at McCree standing smugly over him. He gets up and readies himself once more.

The next hour consists of both men equally being thrown, pulled, flipped, and driven into the mat. Both with a permanent grin on their face.

A bell rings from the other room. “’Ahem’ Gentlemen I hate to interrupt your date, but I have your items ready.” Melanie spouts from the other room. Hanzo scoffs and walks over to his things to redress. McCree grins and does the same. They both walk out and pay for their items. “Farewell, my dears!” She waves goodbye from her side of the counter. They walk to the door and out into the alley. McCree packs away his items and Hanzo stashes his things in his quiver bag.

“Do you want to stop for the night?” McCree flashes a raised eyebrow to Hanzo.

“That might be wise.” Hanzo joins McCree on the bike and they ride off.

Soon they pull up in front of a rather nice-looking hotel. McCree parks and turns to his duffle. He takes off his hat, and slicks back his hair. He removes his serape and folds it into the duffle. He straightens the wrinkles from his shirt; buttons it completely and tucks it in his pants. He pulls out a pair of thin frame glasses from his bag and places them low on his face. He then places the grey duffle on his shoulder and motions for Hanzo to follow. They make their way inside and to the front desk.

“Hello, a double king suit please, if you don’t mind.” McCree flashes a bright smile with a cheer Hanzo has yet to see from the man. His accent is completely different, and he exudes an arrogant energy.

“Of course, sir, May I have the name and duration of stay?” The receptionist chirps back typing away at the holoscreen.

“Joel Morricone for a single night.” McCree takes out his wallet and pulls out a credit card. It reads Joel J Morricone in the name slot. They pay and are given a room number. In the elevator, McCree is eerily quiet. Once they are in their room McCree shakes out his hair, takes off the glasses and returns them to their case in the duffle. “Which bed you want?” he asks as he simultaneously lays down on one of the two.

Hanzo lays his bag against the wall; he then smirks at McCree who has one eye open at him. “I will use the bathroom first.” Hanzo proceeds to grab an undershirt and a pair of sweatpants from his bag and locks the door to the bathroom behind him.

McCree rolls over and strips down to his underwear, taking a pair of sweatpants from his bag and slips them on. He lies down on the bed and tucks under the top downy comforter.

He smiles to himself. A feeling of fondness blooms in his chest. Not having to explain Joel to Hanzo was comforting. Hanzo knew the need of such alter egos, the requirement to be a different person when the time called for it. He turned over on his side and closed his eyes.

McCree was asleep when Hanzo came out of the bathroom. He pulled back the layers of his bed and crawled in. He turned off the shared porcelain lamp and folded into himself. His breath slowed gradually as he drifted off.

***

They wake at sunrise and travel all morning, they make it to a small Texas town about six hours from Dallas by lunchtime and they decide to stop and eat. Hanzo picks a classic looking diner. McCree comments that it looks a lot like the panorama Diner from back home. “Let’s hope the coffee’s at least drinkable.” They walk in and are seated into a red faux leather booth.

They are both given menus, McCree orders coffee and a glass of water, Hanzo requests mineral water. “I’ll get your drinks and you can order with me when you’re ready” chirps the waitress. She returns with their drinks and they shoo her off till later.

McCree looks over to Hanzo and seems about to say something when a ring echoes out from his pocket. McCree retrieves his communicator and looks at the ID. He furrows his brow and answers.

“Hello Mrs. Shewmore, I’m afraid I ain’t home right now so if you need help….” McCree pauses, his eyes widen. He takes the earpiece out from the communicator and hands it to Hanzo. Hanzo places it in his ear.

“Jesse, I needed to tell you. There was a man that came to my home searching for you.”

“Are you alr...?” McCree starts.

“I am fine, a bit worse for wear but alive, Son I need to know your safe. Ease this old lady’s heart.” She interrupts him and pleads.

“I am fine Mrs. I am off pretty far with a friend,” McCree says with a soft voice.

“Good.” She seems soothed.

“Can you tell us what happened?” McCree ducks his head into his hand propped on the table.

***

A knock sounds from the front step. Mrs. Shewmore scuffles to the screen and raises her eyes, her smiles drops. A Large hulking man stands on the other side. His skin is dark, presumably of mixed descent, freckles scatter across his face. His short, auburn red hair is shaved short. He wears a black short sleeve jacket with a white chest plate over it, military-grade pants with several large pockets adorn his legs; mid-calf boots on his feet.

“Hello Ma’am,” The man pushes open the screen door and forces his way in, “I’m looking for a man by the name of Jesse McCree. I hear tell you might know where he is.” He leans forward a bit casting a shadow over her.

“I am sorry but, I must ask you to leave.” She moves around him and toward the door. The man spins and grabs her by the throat thrusting her up against the wall. He continues normally. “You see, he took something real’ important from me. An’ I plan to make him pay for it.” Mrs. Shewmore grabs the vase on the side table near her and attempts to smash it over his head. The man grabs her arm however and bends it back, breaking it with a sickening snap. She screams out in pain. “Now, you either tell me where his little shithole is in this godforsaken dead land, or I can drag you around behind my truck with me till I find it.” He reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out a large chain.

***

A Shadow busts in the door of McCree’s shack. No one is home. The man angrily kicks the side table; it shatters into pieces against the opposite wall. A glare of light catches his eye. He walks over the holoscreen and presses it on. The figure smiles viciously. “Don’t you worry Sammy, I got him.”

***

“After that, I gave him the coordinates of your shack and prayed for your safety. I know you can handle yourself Jesse, but I still worry.” Mrs. Shewmore quips.

“Thank you kindly for the warning Ma’am, I’ll keep a sharp eye out. You get yourself to the hospital now you hear me?” McCree says his pleasantries and hangs up.

He looks at Hanzo as a mixture of emotions crosses his face. Anger, yes, but fear too. Soon, they all melt away and a solemn mask takes their place. “We might have company.”

Hanzo nods, “Do you know if the hunter that made an attempt on your life two days ago worked alone?”

McCree gives him a quizzical eye. “I don’t rightly know.”

They finish their meal and rent a motel for the night. All afternoon they spend researching If Sammy had any recorded partners. Only when searching through a deleted social media page do they find a single name that catches McCree’s eye. Garrett Hazel. The profile shows a single picture of Sammy and Garrett kissing with a caption at the bottom that reads: “To the love of my life, I am hopeful for our bright future.” beside it there’s a wedding ban emoji. Hanzo finds an article on him, “Garrett Peter Hazel, ex-military SEP soldier, he turned to bounty hunting after the programs fall out. His success rate is 96%”

They decide to rest and rise early. They leave in the morning before the suns first rays taint the black sky. They make it to the station before the sun even separates from the horizon. The train is due to depart later in the morning. McCree stows his bike in a garage. They board the train from the back and sneak into the rearmost cabin. Not until the train finally starts to excel down the rail does either man relax. McCree sits back and takes a nap as the train crosses state after state. Hanzo busies himself with his holopad.

“Dear passengers, we will be making our planned stop at Charlotte in ten minutes. Please buckle and have a wonderful day.” The intercom announces overhead. They pull into the station and come to a halt.

McCree stands, “Imma’ take a leak.” He opens the door to their booth and stops when he enters the hall.

Their car is strangely quiet.

McCree reaches for Peacekeeper but has no time to draw before a black bulk slams into him. Garrett nails him in the jaw with a flying punch and knocks him to the floor. Peacekeeper flies down the hall. He pulls a heavy chain from his pocket and goes to wrap it around McCree’s neck.

Hanzo reacts instantly; he lunges forward and grapples around his neck, slinging his legs up over his shoulder and pulling Garrett to the floor. He gets to McCree and pulls him to his feet, but Garrett recovers and grabs for McCree’s ankle, “So weak you can’t even take me alone? Gotta’ have a bodyguard?” Garrett taunts. McCree kicks at his face bending it obscenely back breaking his nose, blood runs down over his lips. Hanzo gets him to his feet as the train is beginning to move again. McCree grabs Peacekeeper from the floor. They make it to the door of the car and attempt to move to the next car up when Garrett catches McCree’s serape and nearly pulls him over the side of the now blindingly fast speeding train. Hanzo scales the train to the roof and pulls McCree up. Garrett soon follows.

“Nowhere to run now,” Garrett whips out his chain and stalks forward. The train is extremely unsteady. They are forced to near crawl to keep footing as they move toward the engine.

McCree turns to Hanzo, “I can’t use my sand at this high a speed, I’ll get ripped away, and Peacekeepers out of commission if I can’t aim.

Hanzo nods and quickly unleashes an arrow into the behemoth of a man. It lands solidly in his shoulder, but the man doesn’t falter. Hanzo releases another, it lands in his neck and still, the man does not slow. His eyes are bloodshot and he’s breathing heavily, seemingly running off pure fury and adrenaline.

Garret roars at the two men, now gating toward them as they clamber up the train. “My arrows have no effect!” Hanzo yells.

McCree looks back at Garret now merely two meters away. “Use your lightning!” McCree shouts.

Hanzo stares at McCree and hesitates. “I can’t”.

McCree looks at him confused, “Why not?!” at this moment Garret closes the distance and throws himself into McCree. They roll, violently trading blows. They topple over the edge and McCree catches the rail bar just barely, Garret clings to him.

Hanzo moves swiftly to the edge and grabs a hold of McCree’s hand. “You are coming with me, you son of a bitch!” Garret bellows from below.

“Hanzo! Use it!” McCree pleads. Their grip slips just a bit.

“He’s too close to you - if I do you’ll get hit by the current!” Hanzo exclaims.

Times stills when Hanzo catches the smiles on McCree’s face, “I trust you.”

Hanzo stares at him for mere seconds, a searing white light lifts from his tattoo and his eyes sprout small arks of electric blue. A bolt lifts from his back and strikes Garrett in the chest, sending a current ripping through his body. Both men scream in agony. Garrett slumps and falls from McCree, His body hits the fast-moving earth below soon out of sight and sooner forgotten.

Hanzo immediately pulls McCree back up on the car. He’s unconscious. Hanzo moves them both back to their cabin and lays McCree down on the floor. There’s no pulse. Hanzo tries CPR on him to no avail.

He screams. Lightning shatters off of him, shattering the glass around them. McCree convulses when he’s hit. Hanzo’s eyes widen with an idea. He grabs for McCree’s prosthetic and grips it tightly. Hanzo sends a shock through it, nothing. He tries again, McCree sucks in a gasp of air. Hanzo feels for a pulse, it’s erratic but most definitely there. Hanzo breathes a sigh of relief and slumps back against the seat.

When the Train reaches the New York station the sun is nearly gone. McCree is awake when they arrive; they exit the train and find an old abandoned apartment building to hold up in. They both feel safer in a no-name place like this. Hanzo moves a heavy desk in front of the door. The only pieces of furniture in the dilapidated studio apartment are a mattress in the corner and industrial spool meant to as a table. Hanzo helps McCree lay down on the mattress.

It’s quiet; aside from the club music weakly bubbling in through the crack in the window.

“Thank you,” McCree breaks the silence.

“I nearly killed you.” Hanzo is facing away from him. He isn’t angry with McCree but feels the need to distance himself. If the man harbors any ill-will toward him, he will bare it. He deserves it.

“Yeah, but you also saved me….twice.” McCree sits up. “Look, Hanzo I know what it’s like to be scared. To not want to use a part of yourself.”

Hanzo whips around staring daggers at him. “How would you know? Sand is slow and child’s play compared to lightning. Do you have any idea how much constant focus I am forced to maintain to keep the lightning contained? To keep it from destroying everything around me? To keep it…from hurting anyone..,” ‘From hurting you’. Hanzo curls in on himself. His lightning has always been unruly, even as a child he excelled at everything else. The elders would prod him, cajole him to master it, he had tried. When he was told to confront Genji…things had gone too far…he had only meant to use it to hinder him…but… Hanzo crouches; he cups his head between his hands making him look even smaller.

“Hanzo,” McCree crawls off the mattress and over to him, “Hanzo, you don’ have to…you don’t. Gaw!” He holds his prosthetic out in front of him, “you see this?” Hanzo nods. “It was about two years after I’d left Overwatch; I got caught by a hunter down in Mexico. Back then I was still green around the edges, still used to being taken care of, I had a hold on my sands but I thought I was untouchable. All I’d ever really used em’ for was to dodge bullets and Deadeye. He caught me real close, and it came to blows real’ quick. We were tradin’ punches left and right when the guy got his weird bolo wrapped around my arm. I turned to sand to try and slip out of it but it hurt so damn bad I couldn’t see straight. Next thing I know I’m lyin’ there bleeding out with my arm turnin' to dust on the ground in front of me. I managed to slither away but when I tried to reattach my arm I couldn’t. It was like it wasn’t a part of me anymore. I passed out in an alley and woke up in a kind old ladies house two days later.

“After that I got scared. Nearly died countless times taking bullets I could a’ dodged because I was too afraid to use my sands again, scared I might lose something else. It was one night at a bar, I was drunk and rambling on, that I met this old man. I don’t even know his name. He told me; “Sounds to me like you’re just waitin’ to die. If you can do something, why don’t you do?” After that I realized I’d given up on myself, I decided I’d learn my sands all over again find my limits and what I was capable of. I started using them every day. I got better; I found my strengths and my weaknesses. I also became deadlier because of it.” McCree leans into Hanzo and wraps his arms around the man. “Look, I’m not saying you have to like it, but caging it’s only gonna’ make it worst, you already know that. You got to find your limits and learn um.” McCree pauses and looks down at Hanzo, a single tear runs down his cheek, he’s staring at the cement below. McCree huffs dismissively.

He stands up “Get up,” he looks down at Hanzo offering his hand.

Hanzo looks up at him, looking to his face then his hand, a confused look on his face.

“This kind a’ sorrow is enough to kill a man… an’ I ain’t gonna’ let that happen tonight.” McCree reasserts his hand. Hanzo slowly stands, placing his hand in McCree’s.

McCree then steps into his space; he holds their hands out to the side and wraps his other arm around Hanzo’s waist. He begins to pull Hanzo along, making small circles around the room. Soon a waltz forms from the slow movements.

Neither man says anything as they continue to make sweeping motions. A slow hypnotizing beat drifts in through the window from the nightclub below. At some point they slow, their breathing is thick between them.

Hanzo gradually lifts his head. McCree surges in to meet him, Lips tangling, its intense as each man tries to soak into the other, both men finally allowing themselves to have what they’ve both yearned for, for so long. Each man needing the intimacy far longer than they’ve even known one another. Their lives don’t leave room for pleasures like this.

****Smut start****

McCree’s hands begin to explore Hanzo’s frame, lightly tracing over his waist and abs. Hanzo reaches up and pulls his hands down McCree’s back savoring the dense muscle underneath. They walk backwards and collapse onto the mattress. Hanzo crowds into the space between McCree’s legs. He slowly lifts McCree’s shirt and follows it with his lips, trailing soft kisses and licks all the way up until they meet in a soft kiss. McCree tugs at Hanzo’s jacket and it is soon gone along with his shirt. They barely break long enough for Hanzo to get it over his head. Their shoes come off somewhere along the way.

Hanzo sucks McCree’s earlobe and traces his teeth down McCree’s throat where he nips. Hanzo suckles one nipple in his mouth, drawing a deep moan out of the man below him. He fondles the other pebble nipple. McCree tangles his hands into his hair, pulling the tie loose. Hanzo grazes his teeth over the nipple as he switches.

After a bit, McCree shivers and sets up pushing Hanzo over to his back. Hanzo goes willingly. McCree crawls over him leaving bites up one arm, across his shoulders, neck, and chest then down the other arm. He squeezes Hanzo’s ass firmly. They kiss once more, tongues sliding deliciously. Hanzo tastes sweet. McCree tastes earthy. McCree reaches for Hanzo’s belt cautiously; Hanzo nods and breathes a silent ‘yes’. Both move to lick and nibble at the other's neck as McCree slides off Hanzo’s pants, underwear coming with them. Hanzo fumbles with McCree’s waistband. McCree chuckles and releases the ridiculous buckle for him, his pants and boxers slide off easily. Their thighs glide over each other as they slide closer. McCree grasps his hands and pins them above his head as they drown in the sensation of skin against warm skin

When they finally touch the friction draws a brisk inhale from both men. Hanzo fumbles for his bag and pulls out a small bottle of lube. McCree raises a brow, “Mighty prepared.”

The corner of Hanzo’s mouth tilt up, “A man has his needs.” He pops open the top and squeezes a bit onto his hand. He warms it a bit before he takes them both in hand, gliding his thumb over their heads. Their breathing hitches. “Han,” McCree slips his hands into his hair. Neither man is anywhere near small, McCree is just a bit longer than Hanzo, while Hanzo hangs thicker. McCree leans in close and bites into the muscles of Hanzo’s shoulder a deep, rumbling moan leaks through. Hanzo arches back and cries out in the mix of pain and pleasure. Hanzo sets a punishingly slow rhythm. Lips connect again in a hot embrace, as both men rut into Hanzo’s tight slick tunnel. Each pull sending heat up their spines.

Soon McCree breaks for air. He pulls back to look at Hanzo and briefly looks away. “Can I…?” McCree doesn’t finish because Hanzo takes his fingers and trails them over his puckered hole. McCree exhales and reaches for the lube with his other hand. Hanzo releases him and he crawls down to mouth at his thighs. He coats his fingers with lube and slides them over Hanzo’s entrance.

Hanzo’s sharply inhales from the chill but soon relaxes as McCree presses in the first thick digit. As McCree works him open, he breathes heavily. Each stroke delicious against his walls. McCree trails light nips and suckles over the skin, leaving marks over his thighs. He soon presses in a second finger and begins to scissor in him. McCree presses into the soft tuft of hair around Hanzo’s length and inhales. He trails his tongue over each ball rolling them one at a time. He curves up his fingers and circles that bundle of nerves over and over that leaves Hanzo a sweating, gasping mess.

“Let me hear you,” McCree whispers, he licks up from base to tip and suckles the head. He takes Hanzo in his mouth all the way down, only gagging once. He works in a third digit and spreads experimentally. He pulls off and pants, “I can’t…can I...” he begs.

Hanzo leans up and grabs McCree’s hair pulling him up for an open mouth kiss. He grimaces at the loss of fullness. He nods vigorously and wraps his ankles around McCree’s thighs coaxing him closer.

McCree lines himself up with Hanzo’s slickened hole and presses in. Hanzo savors the stretch. It takes a few patient thrusts for McCree to sink fully into Hanzo.

McCree kisses him, “Tch’ you feel so good, so hot, so tight around me.” He pulls out and back in just a bit; both men breathing heavily.

Hanzo tightens around him, “Get moving.” He smirks.

Without warning, McCree pulls all the way out to the tip and slams back into him, Hanzo claws into his back and curses. McCree looks more than pleased with himself.

McCree sets a fast and deep pace. Each thrust deeper than the last, Hanzo cants his hips up to meet McCree.

Both men quickly building to their end sooner than either would admit.

“I’m close,” Hanzo’s exhales, to that McCree takes a knee in each hand and bends him over almost in half and pounds into him. Each thrust strikes Hanzo’s prostate; it only takes a handful of strokes to send him careening over the edge streaking white over his chest and stomach. As he cums, he constricts around McCree inside him and the man spills inside Hanzo. “Fuck, Hanzo.”

McCree pulls out and falls onto the mattress beside Hanzo his arm resting over Hanzo’s chest. Both bask in the post-coital high.

After some time, McCree grabs his shirt to wipe them both off and lays down into Hanzo’s arms.

****Smut End****

As He slowly drifts off into a peaceful sleep he hears Hanzo whisper in his ear.

“Thank you.”

NOTES

(The song that plays while they are dancing is Martin Garrix Ocean. And the song earlier is The Weeknd’s Call out my name, and Martin Garrix/David Guetta’s So far Away)

(Hanzo’s outfit from after his shower: https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQXCyj74kfv3gaoRQJK7JtAySlna_2WWIlldJMLntddXH4MFtFg

https://gloimg.rowcdn.com/ROSE/pdm-product-pic/Clothing/2016/03/22/source-img/20160322103105_32428.jpg )

(McCree’s outfit: https://smhttp-ssl-33667.nexcesscdn.net/manual/wp-content/uploads/2016/10/loose-style-long-sleeve-denim-shirts-men-washed-vintage-men-s-casual-jean-shirts-summer-lightweight.jpg

http://www.kinnaird-guesthouse.co.uk/images/large/bblnet/ByH2F8uANfccccceeeee_LRG.jpg )

#shifting sands #mchanzo #mchanzo au #hanzo #hanzo shimada #jesse mccree #mccree #smut #my writing

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harukatomoe · 7 years ago

Text

Taste (Dazai x Reader x Chūya)

Taste

It was crazy how with just a sway of your hips could send the poor brunette and ginger-haired men drooling and dropping to their knees for a better look. Oh, how they wished for a little touch to your skin with their hands, unfortunately they were denied the feeling. They were shameless when it came to being around you, even if they were at a public beach with their organizations. Yes, the Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency were at the same beach, at the same time, on the same day. It was uncanny.

You somehow managed to enforce a peace treaty between the two conflicting organizations of Yokohama for the time being, somehow convincing them that the beach was for enjoying and having a fun time, not for winding up tense muscles even more and causing havoc. Each organization was mere metres planted away from each other, but that didn't stop any one of them from interacting peacefully with each other. It was odd seeing people who'd be at each other's throat doing fun activities together, not that you mind though, at least you could enjoy a day off without any of them complaining to you.

You were an informant that worked nationwide for all of Japan. You happened to reside inside of Yokohama and gave information to anyone who gave a good amount of cash that satisfied you. You were on neither side, nor did you play favourites; it just so happened you delivered a decent amount of information to both of the sides. You were lucky that you weren't shut down as an information broker because you made deals with the government and police that your information was extremely resourceful.

In your time on the job, you met all sorts of people; including Dazai and Chūya. They had to admit that you were an attractive lady, at the same time a nosy and dangerous one, but that didn't stop them from coming to see you. Whenever any of them heard that they needed information (after Rokuzō's death), they came straight to you. Eventually you came to bond with them and managed to develop a somewhat close relationship with them. You could tell that they had an interest in you, they were quite obvious with their laid back flirtations.

"Oh, would you two close your mouths and stop drooling." You huffed, placing both your hands under their chins and closing their mouths for them. After that, your hands found their way to your hips, swaying them as you turned your back to them to march away. It was said as more as an eye-roll to their obnoxiousness than an annoyance, they were head over heels for you. You knew exactly how they felt about you, slightly interested, you decided to play a little game with them since you didn't interact with anyone much but them.

"Give me a day and I'll show you that I'm better than-"

"(First Name)-chan! Wouldn't you like to go out with someone taller than you?"

You could sense them tripping each other behind you, you could sense they were taking any chance to sabotage the other just to get a head start on each other. Oh, how pesky it was to listen to them bicker at each other endlessly, yet at the same time it was intriguing because you never had someone, nonetheless two people obsess over you this way. Being an informant was a lonely job where you didn't have time for someone else, so when either one of them came around, it made your day better.

"I like men who would do anything for something they want," you commented, a smirk rising on the right side of your face at your little enigma. Both the men stuck out their chests for a few seconds, believing that it applied to them; only to slump back down in a slightly irritated manner due to the fact it applied to the both of them. Upon hearing their annoyed grumbles and unhappy mumbling, you laughed. Dipping your feet sideways into the warm sand, you twirled your body around to face them.

"I assume you said that on purpose with the knowledge that it applies to the both of us?" Dazai queried, smiling in defeat a little at your successful little trick. You nodded through half-lidded eyes, your smirk feeling like it was something rare to them. They couldn't stop admiring your absolutely drop-dead gorgeous looks and not to mention your sly behaviour that they were amused by. You were a cunning woman, candour as well, that's what made you so interesting.

"If this is the game you want to play, I'll play." Oh, how Chūya revealed his panty-dropping smirk. You had to admit that he was indeed a gorgeous man, handsome even. His cerulean optics intrigued you as well as his ginger hair, surely he had foreign blood in him or even was foreign, right? His personality matched well with his face, his words matched well with everything about him. He was determined to attract a woman like you into going on a date with him, keeping in mind he wanted to impress you, but at the same time, wouldn't mind anything else that could happen on the way.

As for Dazai, he was surely an attractive man. His eyes were a bright light brown that seemed like sweet cocoa with marshmallows in colour, his hair was messy but kept slightly neat and framed his face with brown that reminded you of the colour coffee you would drink. You had gotten a glimpse of his face without his bangs in the way and for that moment back then, you swore you felt your breath being taken away. Dazai's personality was mysterious, you could see he was bright in personality and at the same time he was hiding something, he was truly an interesting man.

Both of them were similar in ways, but completely different. That's what made your feelings so conflicted. Both of them were deep in affection and fancy towards you that it made it hard to escape and not decide; not that you could decide though, you didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings nor let any of them be the one to reign victorious. It was hard to escape your keen interest in them.

"Really? Then here's my next one," you hummed, watching the both of them ready themselves for your next clue, you couldn't help but to want their attention. "I like men who will love me like no other can." It was vague but, you could see the fire that burned inside of them. Immediately they looked each other in the eye and began to push and pull at each other's faces, kicking each other while they were at it. Oh, how only a few words and a hint from you could cause your own little entertainment.

"I can." Dazai chirped, his height overpowering the shorter man as he somehow managed to trip him into the sand, his face planting into the grains as Dazai stepped on top of him in success. Dazai reached out and caressed your hand into his, leaning forward so that his lips could approach your delicate fingers. He smiled and shut his eyes in delight, savouring the moment he had with you.

"GET OFF OF ME!" Chūya exerted, throwing Dazai off of him and sending him a metre and a half away. He fumed uncontrollably as his sworn enemy had embarrassed him in front of a woman he was trying to impress. Grains of sand decorated his hair and face like stars, only to he shaken off with a quick head whip back and forth. He successfully managed to throw his ex-partner away from you just in time so that his lips couldn't reach your sugar-sweet skin.

Dazai shrugged, his hands up to the level of his face as if he didn't care about what he was going to say to embarrass the redhead. "This hat rack cares more about his clothing than-"

"Imma send your address to every women you've left crying." Chūya threatened, his face falling annoyed in darkness as he glared Dazai dead in the eyes. You could see Dazai falter slightly, whispering a quick, "could you not do that" to him before bouncing back to his previous personality.

"Ohh~ Dazai-san is a womanizer, I hear? Too bad...~" you raised your chin, frowning in play as you grabbed your chin in query to their past relationship and knowledge with and of each other. Alarmed, Chūya spun his body in a quick pivot to face you, his eyes wide and slight desperate. You could see his lips purse in temptation as he waited for you to say something. He wanted to know if he won.

"Does that mean...?" He asked, eager to find out if he had beat Dazai in something yet again. Their competitions with each other were pretty even. Though, it was rare for Dazai to make a mistake due to his past experience. He felt a tad bit outsmarted by words, but was still determined to win, he listened in.

"No, no, I still have one more." Their ears perked with amusement, both of them coming together to find out what you were going to puzzle next. If Dazai being a womanizer had not affected you and gave Chūya a head start, it still meant he had a chance. You inhaled deeply, almost ready to express your last hint towards them. Oh, how they could fall at your feet at any given second. You took a step forward and brushed the both of their shoulders with yours, bumping your hips to theirs a little to keep their attention on you. They could smell the wonderfully delicious fragrant smell of your hair, their heads following you as you pushed past them.

"I like men who will..." you paused, your eyes amorous and your lips seductive.

"...follow me to my place~"

End

#nakahara chuya #dazai osamu #one-shot #wattpad #unedited #bungou stray dogs #bsd

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crutchieheadcanons · 7 years ago

Note

“I called an ambulance, okay? Just stay calm.” with jack and crutchie :')

THANK YOU XXX*Christopher 'Crutchie' Morris strolled out of class, hand clasped in his boyfriend's. He looked up at Jack Kelly, a small smirk on his lips as he thought 'yes, this ones mine.'. Both were seniors in high school this year and they were in English and Maths class's together but other then that they had completely different schedules. However, after school they always walked back to Jack's foster home to do homework together."So how was art?" Crutchie asked and Jack's face lit up as he started to talk a million words a minute. Art was the one thing Jack could talk for days about and Crutchie loved to watch him ramble, his arms basically flailing with his enthusiasm. Jack was just getting into the fine details of shading the vase in question when they reached the front door and Ms. Medda shooed them in, sitting them down at the counter and telling Jack to "Make that poor boy a sandwich!". Crutchie laughed as Jack grumbled as Medda ruffled his hair before leaving the room."Ms. Medda is such a lovely lady. You're really lucky Jack." Crutchie lived in rental accommodation on his own, all bills paid by the state. It was better than most of his more recent care homes but it was still a lonely place in the dead of night."Look kid, what did I tell ya? She said you get to just call her Medda if you want.""She's always gonna be Ms. Medda Jack." Crutchie grinned.Jack looked down at the slices of bread before looking back up at Crutchie and shaking his head."This just aren't sweet enough. D'ya want a chocolate bar instead?""If you're having one, sure. Why not?" Jack tossed him a bar and they both unwrapped their bars, Crutchie savouring his chocolate, slowly letting it melt on his tongue while Jack quickly munched his way through the bar. "Dude, how do you enjoy it if it goes straight from your hand into your stomach?""Crutchie, just cause I don't lick every piece a billion times like you..." Jack grabbed a piece from Crutchie's bar and started licking it slowly, moaning as he did so."You creep, stop it." Crutchie giggled, grabbing the dish towel beside him and throwing it at his boyfriend. Jack walked around to Crutchie's side of the counter and wrapped his arms around the smaller boy, chin perched on his head. He sighed contently before asking "Do you wanna go into the sitting room and do our homework and then we can watch a film or something?""Only if it's Hairspray.""Hey kid, as long as Zac Efron's in it I'm down."*They were about twenty minutes into their work when Jack noticed Crutchie dropping his pen and lying back on the sofa quickly. His eyes become unfocused and while his left hand is lying limp at his side, his right is making clutching motions at his stomach. Jack stands up and moves back, hand covering his mouth. Crutchie's head is moving in a pattern and although he looks awake, Jack knows he's not. He stands still for a moment, unafraid to move before he lets a yell of fright so loud out of him that Medda comes running in, about to ask what's wrong before seeing the unwell boy on the couch in front of her."Jack honey, Imma go call 911, go talk to him, okay?" Jack stayed still, his feet feeling so heavy that they are almost glued to the floor. Medda goes over and grabs his shoulders, shaking her adoptive son lightly. "Baby I know you're scared, but honey your boyfriend needs you." That knocks Jack out of his stupor as he falls on his knees beside Crutchie, too afraid to touch him but shushing quietly, murmuring gentle words of encouragement."I know you must be scared Crutch but it's okay, it's okay. I'm here, MS. Medda's here, everything's gonna be okay. They're gonna bring ya to hospital and it's gonna be fine."Medda comes over and feels Crutchie's forehead, responding yes to whatever she had been asked. She hung up the phone shortly afterwards while Jack knelt shaking beside his sick boyfriend. "I called an ambulance, okay? Just stay calm." Medda told Jack, slipping a kiss onto his forehead. Jack wiped his nose and nodded, sniffing slightly before focusing his thoughts back on Crutchie. The shaking and clutching and head movements had stopped, his head dropping forward suddenly like it was made of lead. Medda quickly grabs him gently and helps him lie more comfortably but the younger still is not talking, responding with very slight nods to questions.About five minutes later, two paramedics came through the door, one talking to Medda while the other kneeled down beside Jack, checking Crutchie's pulse, feeling his forehead, asking him to squeeze his hand. He must do so because the paramedic says "Good lad."The paramedics reluctantly tell them that they can only bring one person with them. Jack immediately volunteers with Medda opting to drive after them.Jack expected the ambulance to be a flurry of activity but truly it was just the paramedic doing pulse checks every few minutes and asking Crutchie very basic questions while making small talk with Jack. Jack talks to Crutchie too, telling him about the shading on the vase because anything else will make him burst into tears right now. Crutchie nods along, looking like he wants to speak sometimes but the words just don't come out. When they reach the hospital, Jack goes to run after the stretcher and the paramedics but a nurse stops him and brings him over to the relatives room where she gets a porter to bring him a coffee and a chocolate bar. Jack looks at the bar, sickened to the core to see it's the same type that he and Crutchie were eating...he looks at his watch. An hour ago. How could that have only been an hour ago? It's feels like a lifetime of worry and stress to Jack as he picks up the bar and throws it against the wall, grunting when he hears it shattering. When Medda walks in, he's on the floor beside the chocolate pieces, trying and failing to pick them up with his shaking hands. She envelopes him in a hug and he sobs softly, tiredness, worry and grief pouring out of him.It's another hour before the doctor comes in to talk to them. He sits them down and Jack immediately prepares for the worst. He isn't expecting the doctor to smile and whisper that it's okay, HE'S okay."It's called a febrile seizure. It happens when a temperature gets too high and the body goes into a kind of shock mode. We'd normally see it in younger kids but it's not unheard of in teenagers either. Your friend has a chest infection and his fever ran too high for his body to cope. He's okay and there shouldn't be any lasting damage but we're going to keep him in overnight for observation and to start him on antibiotics. Is there anything else you need to know?""When can we see him?" Jack said, rubbing his sleeve on his eyes. "I can take you to his room now."Jack prepared to see the pale, eyes half-lidded boy he saw in the ambulance but instead Crutchie is sitting up, chatting to the nurse who's fiddling with his IV. "And he's an artist, swear to Go-Oh hey Jack! I was just talking about you."Jack ran up and hugged Crutchie, making sure to be mindful of the wires attached to him. *If you were to peek into Ms. Medda's house one week later, you would find a mess. Medda wouldn't let Crutchie go back to his small flat on his own after the events, "Especially not when you're still sick young man.". Two teenage boys can make quite a mess, Medda will tell you that. You'll also find two boys curled up on the sofa, eating chocolate bars and humming along to Zac Efron.

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