#taron.

[zanephillips]

TARON EGERTON Black Bird 1.06 "You Promised"

[alilgayblog]

TARON EGERTON as Dennis "Asbo" Severs

The Smoke (s01e01)

[rileykeouhg]

TARON EGERTON as ETHAN KOPEK CARRY-ON (2024) dir. Jaume Collet-Serra

[kieselguhrkid]

Taron Egerton // Carry-On (2024) - How did you get involved? - I asked for a raise.

[happy74827]

Talk To Me

[Eggsy Unwin x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: With your boyfriend sneaking out 24/7 and always returning with carefully concealed injuries, it's only natural to be concerned.

WC: 3033

Category: Slight Angst + Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

I watched Carry-On last night (10/10 so good), and it got me re-thinking about one of my favorite films. Kingsman supremacy 🙌

『••✎••』

You loved Eggsy. Dearly. Truly.

You loved him so much that sometimes it scared you. How fiercely your heart clung to his smile, how tenderly your hands always seemed to reach for his, how naturally your entire world had shifted around him without you even realizing it. He was yours—scruffy, sweet Eggsy Unwin—and you believed you knew him. At least, you thought you did.

But then, the nights started.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. Everyone had their own struggles, and Eggsy never struck you as someone who’d open up easily about his. He’d always been the type to handle his own problems, to wear his hardships like armor rather than show them. But that was before the late-night disappearances, before the quiet footsteps across your floorboards, before you’d wake up in a cold bed at 3 a.m. to find him gone.

It didn’t happen all at once. It was gradual—so gradual you could almost convince yourself you were imagining it. One night turned into two. Two turned into a week. And before long, you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

The first time you tried to confront him, you did it gently. You’d asked him if everything was okay, masking your concern with casual curiosity. "You seem really tired lately, Eggsy. Is work being a pain?"

Eggsy had smiled, all teeth and dimples, and said, "Nah, luv. Just gotta lot on my plate, s’all."

You believed him because you wanted to.

But then there were the bruises.

The first one you noticed was along his jaw, faint and shadowed under the soft light of your kitchen. He’d winced when you kissed him there, just a tiny twitch of his lips, but enough to make you pull back. "You alright?" you’d asked.

Eggsy had waved you off. "Yeah, yeah, fine."

"Fine."

The word had felt too tight on his tongue, too forced. But you’d let it go because that’s what you did when someone you loved was hurting. You gave them space.

Except the bruises kept coming, each one a little harder to miss than the last. The faint cut above his brow, the stiffness in his shoulders when you hugged him, the way he’d flinch—just barely—when your fingers brushed against his ribs. And you noticed. Of course, you did. How could you not?

There was the other stuff, too. The sudden shift in his wardrobe. Gone were the trainers and bomber jackets, replaced with sharp suits and polished shoes. He’d started wearing glasses—ridiculous little round things that didn’t even have a prescription—and he carried himself differently now. Straighter. More serious. It wasn’t that you didn’t like the change. You did. Eggsy looked good in a suit, and you’d told him as much. But it was the why that lingered in the back of your mind.

Everything about him was changing, and yet you were still supposed to believe he was fine.

You weren’t stupid.

And so tonight, when you’d felt him slip out of bed yet again, something inside you had snapped. Enough was enough.

You stayed awake, feigning sleep as you listened to him shuffle around the room. You heard the soft clink of his belt buckle, the muted sound of a zipper, and then the quiet groan he let out as he bent to tie his shoes. He was trying to be quiet, but you could feel his movements, his tension, the exhaustion radiating off of him like smoke.

The front door closed behind him.

For a moment, you thought about following him. Your mind painted a dozen possibilities—none of them good—and the urge to know was almost overwhelming. But something held you back. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was the sick feeling that if you saw what Eggsy was hiding, you wouldn’t be able to unsee it.

So, instead, you stayed. You waited.

And you waited.

Hours slipped by, the quiet hum of the room punctuated only by the ticking of the clock and the occasional thump of your restless heartbeat. You sat in the darkness, curled up on the couch with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company.

It was almost dawn when you heard it—the sound of keys fumbling at the door.

Your breath caught as the door swung open, and there he was. Eggsy. Exhausted, disheveled, and dragging himself inside like he’d just run a marathon. He tripped over the shoes you’d left by the door, letting out a hushed curse as he stumbled and caught himself on the wall. "For fuck’s sake…"

You watched him for a long moment, your heart twisting. His shoulders were slumped, his face pale under the bruises, and there was an air of defeat clinging to him that you’d never seen before.

Your hand hovered over the lamp beside you.

Click.

Light flooded the room.

Eggsy froze. His wide, tired eyes met yours, and for a second, neither of you said anything.

"…Where were you?"

Your voice came out steady—colder than you intended—but you didn’t care. You needed answers.

Eggsy straightened up, wincing slightly as he did, and ran a hand through his messy hair. "What’re you doin’ awake?"

"Where were you, Eggsy?" you repeated, softer this time.

He opened his mouth to answer, but you saw the hesitation in his eyes. That flicker of guilt, of indecision. And it hurt.

You watched him—really watched him—take in the situation, his gaze darting from you to the lamp and back again. He looked so tired, the dark circles under his eyes stark against the pale exhaustion in his face. His bottom lip pulled tight between his teeth, and for a fleeting moment, you thought he might lie to you.

He always did that when he was nervous, chewing his lip like he was trying to hold the words inside.

And then he sighed.

"Look, luv���"

"No." You cut him off, surprising even yourself with the sharpness in your voice. Your heart was pounding now, a steady thud in your chest, and you swallowed the knot rising in your throat. "Don’t 'look, love' me, Eggsy. I’ve given you space. I’ve ignored the bruises. I’ve let you—whatever this is—carry on without question. But not anymore."

Eggsy’s mouth closed. He shifted on his feet, his wince almost imperceptible, but you caught it. You always caught it.

"Are you hurt?" you asked, voice trembling slightly despite the resolve you tried to hold. Your eyes dropped to the faint, bloodied scrape on his knuckles and the stiff way he held his side. "Jesus, Eggsy…"

"I’m fine." The words came out fast—too fast—and though they were meant to be firm, they only sounded hollow.

You flinched like the word was a slap. "You’re not fine."

He sighed again, this time deeper, and rubbed a hand over his face. "It’s complicated."

"Complicated?" you echoed, your voice pitching with disbelief. "Complicated is when you forget an anniversary or don’t know how to split rent. This isn’t complicated, Eggsy—this is you sneaking out in the middle of the night and coming home bruised and battered, and I’m scared."

There it was. The confession you’d been holding back. The thing that had been gnawing at you for weeks, clawing at your chest every time he slipped away. Your voice broke slightly, the words tumbling out like a dam had burst, and Eggsy’s face softened in a way that almost broke you.

You could see the guilt then, raw and unguarded, etched into the lines of his expression. He took a cautious step forward, but you held up a hand, needing the space to breathe.

"Do you…" Your voice faltered. You didn’t want to say it—didn’t want to voice the fear that had whispered in your mind during the loneliest hours of those nights. “Do you not trust me, Eggsy? Is there something you can’t tell me?”

Eggsy’s head snapped up at that, his brow knitting as if you’d insulted him. "What? No. No, it’s not like that."

"Then what is it?" Your voice cracked, and for the first time since this all started, you felt your eyes sting with tears. "Because I’m running out of scenarios, Eggsy. I thought maybe… maybe it was someone else, maybe you’d stopped loving me. But then I’d see the bruises, and I’d hear you groaning in your sleep, and…" You trailed off, pressing a hand to your forehead. "I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when you’re falling apart right in front of me."

The room was silent save for your quiet, unsteady breaths. For a moment, you thought Eggsy wouldn’t answer, that he’d slip into that shell of his again and leave you stranded in this mess of unanswered questions.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he crossed the room in two quick strides, cupped your face in his hands, and kissed you.

It wasn’t a soft kiss—not like the ones he’d give you after long days or lazy mornings. It was desperate and grounding, like he needed to make sure you were real and that you still loved him despite everything. You froze for half a second, caught off guard by the sudden warmth of his lips on yours before you melted into it. Your hands gripped his wrists, holding onto him like an anchor as your heart hammered against your ribcage.

When he finally pulled away, you stared at him, breathless and reeling.

"Eggsy—"

"I’m sorry," he muttered, his forehead resting gently against yours. "I didn’t… I didn’t mean to make you think that. Any of that." His voice was low and earnest, the accent softening as the words spilled out. "You’re the only good thing in my life, alright? The only thing that keeps me goin’. It ain’t you—it’s me. I’m just… I’m tryin’ to keep you safe."

"Safe?" Your brows furrowed as you leaned back to look at him. "Safe from what, Eggsy?"

He hesitated. You could see the war playing out in his eyes—the push and pull of wanting to tell you the truth but still trying to protect you from it. He was holding something back; you knew that much. Something big.

Finally, he exhaled slowly. "It’s work. The bruises, the nights—I can’t tell you everything, but you gotta trust me when I say I’m doin’ it for you. For us."

"Eggsy…"

His thumb brushed along your cheek, and you realized then that you were crying—just a little.

"You’re right," he admitted softly, the words heavy with guilt. "I shoulda told you somethin’. Not everythin’, but… somethin’. I just didn’t want you to worry, love. Didn’t want you to see this part o’ me." He smiled faintly, the corners of his lips tilting upward. "You deserve better than this mess."

You stared at him, the boy who had somehow become a man without you noticing. His rough edges were still there—still scrappy, still stubborn—but there was something more now, too. He carried weight on his shoulders, weight he hadn’t let you see until tonight.

"I don’t care about the mess," you whispered, your hands sliding down to hold his. "I care about you. And if you’re hurting, I want to know. I want to help."

Eggsy blinked at you like he wasn’t sure he deserved to hear that. Then he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you up tightly as if trying to shield you from the rest of the world.

"You’re mental, you know that?" he mumbled into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. "Too good for me, you are."

Eggsy was warm against you, his arms solid and grounding, but you couldn’t let yourself melt into it—not entirely. Not when you could still feel the lingering tremor in his body, the careful way he was holding you like he was afraid of falling apart completely if he let go.

So you didn’t let it slide. Not this time.

You pulled back slightly, enough to look at him, your hands sliding to rest against his chest. He avoided your eyes for a beat too long, gaze flicking toward the floor as if the answers to all of your questions were scattered across the floorboards.

"Eggsy," you said softly, forcing him to look at you. "You’re doing it again."

His brows furrowed slightly. "Doin’ what?"

"Avoiding." You swallowed hard, your voice gentle but firm. "You keep saying you’re trying to protect me, but from what? From you? From whatever it is you’ve gotten yourself into? I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with half-truths and cryptic excuses."

He didn’t answer. His jaw clenched, his lips pressing into a tight line as the silence stretched between you like a taut wire. You watched him, the Eggsy you knew—the one who laughed too loudly, who lit up rooms with his smile—hidden behind this new, heavier version of himself. A man weighed down by secrets you weren’t allowed to touch.

You felt your throat tighten. "If you’re in trouble, I need to know."

"I’m not—"

"Gary." You said his name softly, but with enough weight that he stopped, his shoulders sagging just a little under your gaze. You could see the walls going back up, the way his expression started to close off again, and your heart ached. This wasn’t about control. It wasn’t about digging into things he didn’t want to share. This was about him—the man you loved. The man standing in front of you with bruises and exhaustion, painting him in shades of worry and pain you didn’t recognize.

"I love you," you whispered, the words breaking through the quiet. His head snapped up, his eyes finally locking onto yours. "I love you, Eggsy. But this—" you gestured gently between the two of you "—this isn’t fair. You don’t get to shoulder all of this alone. Not when I’m right here."

You could see the cracks in his resolve then, the guilt splintering through his expression like fractures in glass. Eggsy exhaled, a heavy breath that deflated his entire posture, and he reached up to cup your cheek again, his thumb brushing faintly at the tears still lingering there.

"It ain’t trouble," he muttered after a long pause, his voice low and rough like gravel. "Not like you’re thinkin’. I ain’t into anythin’ shady, I swear."

"Then what is it?" you asked softly. "Please, Eggsy. I’m not leaving. I’m not running. I just need to know what’s doing this to you."

He hesitated again, clearly grappling with something you couldn’t see. For the briefest moment, you thought he might tell you—might rip off the Band-Aid and let you into whatever world he’d been keeping you out of. But then, as if on instinct, he sighed and shook his head, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before resting his own against it again.

"You don’t wanna know, luv," he murmured, voice so soft it nearly disappeared into the space between you. "I promise you don’t."

You stared at him, your heart twisting painfully. You could feel it now—the invisible door he was trying to close, to lock between you—and the worst part was, you knew he thought he was doing the right thing. He thought he was protecting you.

But all you felt was the sting of being shut out.

"This isn’t fair," you said again, your voice trembling slightly. "You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t handle, Eggsy."

His lips parted slightly, and for once, he didn’t have a rebuttal. He just looked at you—really looked at you—as if weighing the woman in front of him against whatever dark reality he’d been hiding.

"I can handle it," you pressed, your voice steady this time. "Whatever it is, I can handle it. I can handle you."

Eggsy pulled back slightly, his hands slipping to your shoulders. There was a flicker of conflict in his eyes, and for the first time that night, you saw a hint of vulnerability beneath the surface. "It ain’t about you not bein’ strong enough," he said finally, his words slow and deliberate. "It’s about me not wantin’ you to see the worst parts of what I do."

"What you do?" you repeated carefully, and you saw him flinch—just barely—like he’d said too much.

"Eggsy, I don’t…"

He let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his messy hair. "Jesus Christ, I’m shite at this."

Your eyes searched his. Part of you wanted to press further—to keep pushing until the dam broke—but the other part could see his exhaustion, the way he was leaning slightly against the counter like his legs were struggling to hold him up. He looked so tired. So defeated. And you hated it.

You let out a soft sigh, taking his hand and lacing your fingers through his.

He stiffened.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. There was a question lingering between you, the same one you knew he was struggling to answer.

Tell her.

Don't.

It felt like an eternity had passed when you finally said his name, squeezing his hand gently.

His gaze lifted to yours.

And you let it go.

You didn't push. You didn't demand. You didn't ask. Because this wasn't a fight, you were going to win.

He wasn't ready.

So, instead, you just said, "Promise me something."

"Yeah?"

You hesitated, the words feeling heavier on your tongue than they had any right to be. You swallowed the lump rising in your throat and whispered, "Promise me you’ll come home."

Eggsy stilled.

It wasn't much of a request—more of a desperate hope that this wasn't all leading to some unavoidable ending you weren't ready for. It was an offer of surrender. A silent, exhausted plea to put the pieces back together, to stitch up the cracks before they could break.

He studied you, his tired eyes roaming over the lines of your face as if he could read the question lingering there.

And then he pulled you into his arms, a hand cradling the back of your head. You felt the warmth of his embrace, the weight of his body against yours, and your arms wrapped around him as tightly as you could. For a second, you weren’t sure if he would answer. If he even could.

And then, in the softest voice you'd ever heard, he whispered, "Always."

"For you, always."

[earthredeye3]

[cinematicnomad]

KINGSMAN: THE SECRET SERVICE TARON EGERTON as EGGSY UNWIN.

[vietlad]

Taron Egerton in Black Bird, 2022

[boysappetit]

Jonny and Taron

[men-in-4k]

TARON EGERTON as Ethan Carry On · 2024

If you like the content, follow me on TWITTER as well <3

[zanephillips]

TARON EGERTON Kingsman: The Secret Service (2014)

[nicolethered]

Pedro as Agent Whiskey behind the scenes of Kingsman: The Golden Circle (2017)

[rileykeouhg]

TARON EGERTON as GARY “EGGSY” UNWIN KINGSMAN: THE GOLDEN CIRCLE (2018) dir. Matthew Vaughn

[thelolarahaii]

This game isn't just addictive. It stays with you. It's poetry—art and math working together in magical synchronicity. It's...it's the perfect game.

TETRIS (2023) dir. John S. Baird

[daimiyamoto]

CARRY-ON (dir. Jaume Collet-Serra, 2024)

[storiesforallfandoms]

something about a man in uniform ~ ethan kopek;carry-on

word count: 2122

request?: no

description: in which nothing turns her on more than seeing her boyfriend in his uniform

pairing: ethan kopek x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (dom!ethan, face fucking, a lil rough, praise, lil bit of a breeding kink), FULLY just porn without a plot because my brain chemistry changed after seeing taron in carry-on

masterlist (one, two, three)

It was so late you were struggling to keep your eyes open when the front door opened and slammed shut. You sat up, trying to wake yourself up enough to greet your boyfriend. He came around the corner and let out a heavy sigh, throwing his bag onto the floor.

"Welcome home," you said, sleepily.

"Sorry I'm so late getting home," he sighed. "We had an issue in my line and Sarkowski made me stay till it was figured out."

"What happened?"

Your eyes followed Ethan's hands as he started to unbutton his uniform shirt. Suddenly, you were very awake.

"Some idiot with a huge bottle of sunscreen in his carry on got flagged. When I went to do a search of his bag, he starts freaking out. Causes a huge scene and has to be detained. Since it was my line, Sarkowski made me be there for his whole interrogation and shit. The guy refused to cooperate, so we were there for hours until we finally found out it was just a stupid sunscreen bottle."

Ethan had been pacing while he talked. He had finished unbuttoning his shirt, now letting it hang open with his black under shirt on display. He stopped pacing when he noticed your silence. He thought maybe you had fallen asleep, but instead when he turned to look at you, he found you staring. It was like you were hypnotized, staring blankly at him; at his body.

He smirked then moved to stand directly in front of you. He put his fingers against your chin, tilting your head to look up at him. "Like what you see?"

You blinked out of your daze. Heat from embarrassment crept up your face. "Sorry. I was...distracted."

"Yeah. I noticed. What's got you so distracted?"

You swallowed. You weren't exactly sure how to tell him that seeing him in uniform turned you on.

You weren't the only person in the world who found uniforms attractive. That was definitely an an uncommon thing. There was just something slightly embarrassing to you about having to admit to your own boyfriend that seeing him in his work uniform really turned you on. No matter how often you saw it, every time Ethan would pull on his blue TSA shirt and tuck it into his dress pants, you'd feel a tingling sensation between your legs.

When you took too long to answer, Ethan leaned over you. He put his hands on the back of the couch, on either side of your body. You were trapped, no choice but to look in his eyes.

"Do you like seeing me in my uniform, pretty girl?" he asked.

You were at a loss for words, so you just nodded. At the same time, Ethan shook his head. "No, no. Use your words, pretty girl."

"Y-yes," you managed.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I like seeing you in your uniform."

He was still smirking. "Good girl."

Before your brain had much time to grasp (or rather, short circuit because of) that comment, his lips were on yours. He was kissing you with a kind of passion and hunger that lit a fire in you. It was the kind of kiss that bruised your lips, that lit your body aflame. One of his hands moved to cup your cheek. It was gentle, a juxtaposition to the way he was kissing you.

His hand moved from your face to his belt. He pulled away from the kiss to stand over you again. Your heart was racing as you watched him undo his belt, and then his dress pants. You could see the outline of his dick through his boxers, and he was already rock hard. His hand moved to take yours and placed it against the bulge. You instinctively started palming his length. His head lulled back, a low moan escaping from his lips.

"Don't tease, baby," he said.

There was a bit of a stern tone to Ethan's voice that made you clench your thighs. You had tried some sub-dom scenarios before, which you had really enjoyed, but this was different. This was not a planned moment of dominance. This whole situation was entirely spontaneous (not that you ever planned the times you had sex). And it was so fucking hot.

You slid off the couch onto your knees in front of Ethan. You reached for his boxers, pulling them down to his mid thigh. His cock sprang free, standing at attention for you. You took hold of the base and pumped a few times. You weren't about to tease him, but the moans from him as you stroked his cock were so delicious.

When you wrapped your lips around his tip, his hips immediately bucked forward, shoving himself further down your throat. You knew it wasn't on purpose and he wasn't trying to make you gag or anything, but you still couldn't help but try to move away from him due to the sudden intrusion. To your surprise, Ethan took hold of your hair and pushed you down onto his length again. His hips started moving, not enough to gag you but enough that he was completely fucking your face. You looked up at him through your eyelashes. He was still in his uniform shirt, which somehow turned you on even more. His eyes were closed and his bottom lip was between his teeth, muffled grunts slipping from his mouth.

You could feel your own slick between your legs, pooling in your underwear. You held onto Ethan's thighs, bracing yourself for every inward thrust. Drool was starting to drip down your chin and onto the floor between your legs. You watched Ethan's head tilt down to look at you. His blue eyes met yours, and they were so clouded with lust. He loosened his grip on your hair to move his hand to your face, gently cupping your cheek again.

When he pulled himself out of your mouth, you tried to chase him. He pulled you to your feet instead, hungrily kissing you again. His hands desperately grabbed at you wherever he could, pressing himself as close to you as he could.

"Off," he muttered against your lips, his hands reaching for your pajama top. He broke away from you to pull it up over your head and tossed it somewhere behind him. He gently pushed you down onto the couch, grabbing for your pajama bottoms next. "These too." You lifted your hips so he could pull the bottoms and your underwear off, discarding it with your shirt.

You were left completely bare, trembling under his gaze. He pushed his boxers down and kicked them to the side. You were watching him take off his uniform shirt when he paused and made a gesture for you to turn around.

"On your knees," he commanded.

You did as he said; turning yourself around so you were braced against the back of the couch, perched up on your knees with your ass raised to him. You heard the last of his clothes hit the floor before feeling his presence behind you. You yelped at the quick sting of his hand against one of your ass cheeks, before he was pulling that same ass cheek open. He ran his cock between your wet folds, teasing you. You moaned at the feeling of his hot tip against your clit. You weren't sure how long you'd be able to last through the teasing.

When he finally pushed past your entrance, you almost sighed with relief. He pushed himself into you very slowly, letting you feel every inch of him as he filled you up. You put your head into your arms, moaning at the feeling of him inside of you. Ethan's hand ran up your back and to your hair again. You gasped at the sting of his hand closing around your hair, pulling hard at the strands until your head was tipped back.

"Don't you dare try to be quiet," he growled. "I want to hear how good I make you."

He pulled out just a little, before snapping his hips forward, driving himself back into you. You cried out in pleasure. Ethan decided this was the perfect pace: brutally drilling into you while he still had a hold on your hair. You were nearly bent in half, pushing yourself up from the back of the couch as much as you could. Part of you was concerned about potentially breaking the couch with how roughly Ethan was fucking you, but a bigger part of you didn't care. All you could think about was the feeling of Ethan's cock abusing your g spot.

Your legs soon began to shake, and you felt your orgasm slowly building within you. You tried to tell Ethan that you were close, but any words that came out just sounded like babbling. He pulled you so that your back was flush against his chest, his mouth mere inches from your ear.

"What's that, pretty girl?" he asked.

"C-Close," you managed to get out.

"You're close?" he asked. You nodded. "Do you think you can wait for me, baby? I want to feel you cum on my cock as I fill you with my cum."

You whined in response. You weren't sure if you could wait. Although it wasn't quickly approaching, you didn't think you'd be able to stop yourself when you finally reached your high. You didn't want to wait, either. You were chasing a high you had been working towards the second you saw Ethan's body perfectly framed in that TSA uniform.

"You can do it, baby," he whispered in your ear. "You can wait for me. Wait for me to pump you full of my cum, maybe even plant a baby in there. Would you like that? Would you like it if I put a baby in you, pretty girl?"

You nodded, although you weren't fully comprehending what he was saying. All you could focus on was the feeling of Ethan's body against yours, the feeling of him so deep inside of you, the feeling of his hot breath against your ear, and then his lips on your neck.

Luckily, it didn't take long for Ethan to get close. When he did, he reached between your legs and started to rub circles against your clit. You cried out, both in pleasure and due to the overstimulation. It was enough to tip you over the edge, trembling and moaning, a white hot flash of pleasure ripping through you. Seconds later, you felt Ethan pulse inside of you, coating your walls with his cum. He leaned his head against your shoulder, also shaking as he rode out his high. His hand dropped from your clit and you almost sighed.

Your body quickly fell back into exhaustion. You sleepily slipped out of Ethan's grasp and leaned forward, against the couch. He still had a hold on your hips, but eventually let himself slip out of you. You felt the remnants of him slipping down your thighs. You slowly lowered yourself onto the couch until you were laying down again.

"I guess I should've done this before," you said.

"What do you mean?" Ethan asked.

"Lay down," you responded. "To make sure I didn't let anything run out."

He looked at you in confusion before it dawned on him what you meant. He chuckled a little. "I didn't mean it too literally. I mean, I would like to have a kid with you eventually, and I wouldn't be upset if we found out this is the time it happened, but I don't think I'm completely ready to be a dad yet."

"I won't hold my breath, then."

He chuckled against. He helped you up and to the bathroom so you could take care of the post-sex things, then he helped you to your bed. You settled into the comfortable bedding, laying on your side and curled up a little. Ethan moved behind you, taking you in his arms in the spooning position.

"I didn't go too rough or anything, did I?" he asked.

You shook your head and mumbled a soft, "No."

"Okay. I was a little worried after. I didn't mean to take out my work frustrations on you."

"You can take out any frustrations on me anytime," you mumbled. "But maybe at an earlier hour. I'm exhausted."

He chuckled and kissed your shoulder. "Deal. Goodnight, baby."

"Goodnight."

There was a brief moment of silence where both of you began to drift off to sleep. With your last few seconds of consciousness, you managed to say, "Don't forget to get our clothes from the living room in the morning."

The last thing you heard before you fell asleep was Ethan's laugh.