#the plastic wrap one is driving me fully off the deep end

[nonbinarynightcrawler]

my priv twitter feed is now almost exclusively filled with blender addon demos and I feel like I'm slowly losing my mind bc I'll see a video of a wave on some rocks in real time or an irregular shape being wrapped up in plastic and my first response is "this makes me want to gnaw on drywall jesus CHRIST i want to use that"

[1-800-sope]

Tag, You’re It (M)

paring: Jungkook x reader

rating: M

Gener: Yandere 

Warnings : Kidnapping 

Summery: They always say it’s someone you know, someone that you are close to that turns out to be a psycho freak, you just weren't expecting it to be your hot innocent next door neighbor.

Inspired by Tag, You’re It by queen mel <3

BTS Masterlist

“Looking at me through your window

“Boy, you had your eye for a little”

“Hi Y/n.” Jungkook, your friendly neighbor shouted from across the yard as he spotted you. “Good afternoon Jungook, How are you?” You shouted back mirroring his smile. “I’m doing good just got done with some grocery shopping.” Jungkook responded displaying the plastic bags he was holding in his arms.

With that you let out a groan as you inserted your key in the lock. “That reminds me, I have to do some shopping of my own.” A chuckle escaped from jungkook.

“I’ll cut you up and make you dinner

You’ve reached the end, you are the winner.”

“Say if you don’t have food, I hope i’m not overstepping but why don’t you come over for dinner tonight.” Jungkook asked innocently, biting his lip as he eyed you from the sided. You focused on opening your front door trying to ignore the pounding in your chest. “As much as I would enjoy that Mr. Jeon, I have some homework to get to tonight.” You said as you looked up at him. Your door was now unlocked but you didn’t want to go inside, not yet at least. You wanted to savor this moment with your overly extremely hot next door neighbor.

Jungkook nodded his head as he went to open his own front door. “Well I wish you all the luck on that homework, but just know my offer still stands.” To anyone that would have seem like an innocent invitation, to YOU it was an innocent invitation. but to Jungkook it was far from innocent. 

-

“Rolling down your tinted window

Driving next to me real slow, he said”

Jogging through the neighborhood was one of the things you did every morning five days out of the week. You would jog around the block two times, stop by Mrs. Kim’s daughters lemonade stand grab a drink and continue. It was all apart of the routine.

But having a suspicious black BMW slow down as it turned down the street you were making your way down was not apart of the rutie. 

You were an observant girl, always aware of your surrounds, you liked to be kept on your toes never getting too comfortable, some might call you paranoid. So when you turned your head and caught site of the slowed down car you picked up your pase. But so did the car.

“Howdy Neighbor.” A familiar voice called out as the car was now next to you. “oh my god Jungkook!” You jumped back face flush with a beating heart. God this boy will give you a heart attack one day.

Jungkook looked at you with innocent eyes. “Are you alright?” He asked as you stopped and placed both of your hands on your knees, taking in deep breaths. 

“Yes, you just scared the living daylights out of me that’s all.” You chuckled leaning back up whipping some sweat off of your forehead, when you make eye contact with him your face flushed.

gross and sweaty in front of the handsome neighbor way to go Y/n,

“Oh my bad I didn’t mean to.” He quickly spoke with a sincere look in his eyes. You laughed and shook your head. “It’s okay Jungkook, Just don’t drive so creepy next time.” 

“Let me take you for a joyride

I’ve got some candy for you inside.”

“Say, I just got back from the store and I have some popsicles it is a hot day, would you like any?” Jungkook asked with a sweet smile that almost made you say yes right away.

You watched as the young man reached in the back of his car behind the driver's seat, you took note on how the ink on his muscular arms looked extremely good

when he pulled forward a box of popsicle you looked away not wanted to get caught drooling over him. “Thank you Jungkook.”You smiled as you watched him open the box. Your mouth instantly watered.

“Come eat it inside.” Jungkook said. You watched in confusion as he leaned over and open the car door. “Oh I really shouldn’t” feeling self conscious you took a step back. 

“Nonsense, The popsicle will melt while it’s out there, and do you really wanna hold a sticky stick while you run.” He looked at you with a teasing smile. 

Giving up you rolled your eyes and got into the car. “that’s a good girl.” Jungkook said as you shut the door face now more flushed than before and chest pounding that you pray to the gods he can’t hear it.

‘What flavor do you want?” He asked dismissing the comment he just made. You on the other hand had the words still repeating in your head. Another puls feeling shot through you but this one was not in your chest.

“Is there Orange.” You mastered to ask as you let out an awkward cough hoping he just thinks your flustered state is from the morning run. “Let me take a look.” He mumbled digging through the box.

“If not cherry is fine, you know i’m okay with any flavor except grape. the grape ones-”  “taste like medicine” You and Jungkook said at the same time. You nodded. “You're in luck missy, I found an orange.” He playfully smirked holding up the orange flavored popsicle.

-

It’s been four weeks since your encounter with Mr. Hottie neighbor and you were thankful for that. Yes Jungkook was nice company but you won’t be able to go another minute with your heart going crazy like it was going to blast out of your chest.

It was currently 1:30 am and you were laying on your living room couch trying to finish up your thesis statement for one of your college courses, that when the third rumble of your stomach hit and you got fed up. 

grabbing your car keys and throwing a jacked over your tank top you made your way out the door and to your car. One of the perks of being a college kid is being broke, ordering takeout for three weeks straight really put a dent in your pocket.

starting your car up you drove to the nearest corner store that was open.

-

pulling into the parking lot you failed to notice how it was almost empty except for wo other cars.

stepping out you didn’t bother to lock your car door the goal of getting in and getting out was the on thing that filled your mind.

“Running through the parking lot

he chased me and he wouldn't stop”

Once you were done paying you quickly grabbed your bag and pushed open the door, the cold air greeting you in the procese sent a shiver down your spine. was it worth it to go out in your pajama shorts and a tank top, looking around you took in how dark it was. no it wasn’t.

quickly opening your car door you placed the bag next to you and the keys inside. taking a peaky through the rear view mirror. That’s when you saw it

There was a person in the backseat of your car but before you could let out a bloody scream they placed the a white cloth over your mouth. 

Now you were fully regretting going out tonight.

Not taking in a deep breath you reached your hand out to the cup holder next to you grabbing the paper spry you through your arm back and pressed down on it, the attacker cussed and moved their hand. 

not wasting a minute you got out the car and did what anyone in their right mind would do. You ran. you heard the car door slam shut and you knew they got out too the fast footsteps that started to follow you proved it. but you didn’t stop, you didn’t look back. 

“Grab my hand, pushed me down

took the words right out my mouth”

You felt the hands on you, the force pushed you to the ground as a hand went clasping around your mouth muffling your scram, a muscular arm wrapped around your waist bringing you back up.

no 

no 

no 

This was not happening, You were not done for. You couldn't wouldn't except this faith and that's why you did everything your self defense classes taught you. You slammed your foot on this psycho’s toes and he released you again with a cuss.

if you would have listened. you would have noticed that the voice sounded oddly familiar.

but before you can even get one step away something hard came in contact with the side of your head sending you straight to the gourd.

your blurry vision filled with large black boots and then you lost consciousness.

-

You slowly opened your eyes, gretted to a dim light and a room with four walls, no windows in sight. just a door. panic rushed through your body and you tried to move that’s when you noticed you were hanging.

A thick rope wrapped around your wrist was hanging you up from the ceiling nothing was supporting your feet.

“Enie meenie miny mo”

A voice was heard from behind you, it made your heart stop. 

“Get your lady by her toes”

You felt something brush against your ankle and you let out a piercing scream. The sinister sound turned into a child like giggle.

“If she screams, don’t let her go” it sung.

A choked sob escaped you as the tears started to run down your face. “Whyy why why why.” You whispered to weak to speak.

“Shhh shhh, it’s okay love.” The voice cooed as a hand was gently brushing down the side of your head.

The presence of your abductor finally showed itself,  they were now standing in front of you holding those familiar innocent doe like eyes.

“J-Jungkook?” 

“Howdy neighbor.” 

[lord-explosion-baku]

Funhouse

Sero x Reader

You and Sero havin’ a little fun at the Summer fair.

Warnings: semi-public wall sex, cunnilingus, fluff?

A/N: I’m mourning the loss of Summer and all the fun things that go along with it. I think I really miss the fair and love Hanta Sero, so...here’s smth. (18+)

The determined look on your face is heart-wrenching. With your brows drawn down, and the subtle hint of tongue peeking out of your lips as you aim your water gun at the target, it’s no surprise that Sero can’t concentrate on the task at hand. He’s already won so many other fair games—he has you, the loser, toting around that giant teddy bear (the one he plans on letting you keep) to prove it—so he thinks he might let you best him. Just this once.

When the bell goes off, crowning you as the game’s victor, you squeal and cheer, bouncing into Sero’s waiting embrace. This game is easy enough, so the prizes aren’t that big, but you’re ecstatic when you get to choose one for yourself: a little leather choker with a mock-silver flower pendant.

“That’ll look cute on you,” Sero is quick to say. He’s been taking any opportunity to compliment you—so long as it’s not creepy—to make it so his intentions are clear; although, he’s not too sure you’ve picked up on any of his hints. Yet. He doesn’t want to be too obvious or pushy, either, even if there is a carnal monster deep inside of him that demands he acts differently. If you don’t vibe with him in the way he really wants you to, he’d still like to keep you as a good friend, even if it burns him, and leaves that monster starving.

“On me?” You laugh. “Definitely! But I wanna know how it’ll look on you!”

You turn to face him, grinning mischievously, choker-necklace weapon in hand. You bite your lip and look at him expectedly. He rolls his eyes and yields, dipping down so you can reach him. You thrust the bear into his hands so you can do your worst.  

“It’s only fair,” he says as you wrap the choker around his neck. He hears when you clasp it at his nape, and fights the goosebumps that try to run down his arms. “You’re carrying my prize, after all.”

Even though you have the necklace clasped, your touch lingers, as if you’re pretending to struggle to get it on. Gentle fingers brush against his sensitive skin and Sero wonders if it’s intentional—if you know that your touch scorches him, and whether you know that you’re torturing him or not. As much fun as he’s having with you, you've got him wrapped around your little finger. He’s smitten—captivated and enslaved by that devilish glint in your eyes when you say you want to play another game—when you tell him he’s going down, and even though you haven’t beat him until now, your good mood never falters. You skip around in your summer dress, laughing about clowns or rides or lights, and Sero’s world ends where you begin.

He’d originally thought that taking you to the fair could’ve been a simple friend-date—it wouldn’t be any different if he’d invited Kirishima or Kaminari, but deep down he knows that had been a foolish gamble. Neither Denki nor Ei make his heart skip like you do. Now that the two of you are alone, he can’t ignore the spell you’ve got him under. He’s been wrong before, but this proves to be a monumental screw up.

Your bright smile lights up Sero’s world when you give him an approving look, proud of your work. The choker is snug around his neck, and you loop a finger around it, giving it a tug to test its durability.

“Pretty,” you say wryly, a charming tilt to your smile.

“I prefer devilishly handsome, but I’ll accept pretty.”

“Oho, somebody’s full of themselves.” You laugh and push on his chest, stepping away from him. “Let me make room for your giant ego.”

“Hey, now, I’ve earned my giant ego, thank you very much!” Sero pushes the bear back into your hands and tugs on its ears. “This just proves I rule this fair, and you’re nothing more than a serf in the kingdom of Hanta Sero.”

You grab his hand, lift it up, and twirl yourself underneath him, giant bear dancing with you. “Well, I’ve got spirit. And plenty more games I’m sure I can beat you at.”

“Ohoho spirit? That’s just what losers say to make themselves feel better.”

“Losers?!” You bark out, smile widening. “You sound like Bakugou!”

Sero’s mouth falls open, showing mock-indignity. “You wound me!”

“That’s just what happens when your ego inflates! A simple prick of a needle and-“ You and make a motion with your hands, miming a balloon, then blow a raspberry as you drive an imaginary needle through it. Sero blows a raspberry right back, and you use the opportunity to shove the bear in his face.

Hands free, you dance around him in search of another game you might be able to beat him at. The two of you have already gone on all the best rides, shared a funnel cake, and have blown through plenty of cash competing with each other, but it’s obvious that you’re not satisfied yet.

You eye the funhouse, and look at Sero conspiratorially. Usually that place is reserved for younger fair patrons, but now that the sun is down, and most kids have tired out due to their sugar highs, the funhouse is left ignored.

There’s that familiar glint in your eyes, and Sero knows you’re scheming something.

“What are you thinking?” Sero asks, walking towards you. He tries pushing the bear back into your arms, but you’re quick to dodge him, ducking closer to the funhouse.

“Well,” you say, roguish. Sero steps closer to you, and you bounce away, intent on leaving the bear in his arms. “I’m willing to admit that you rule the fair, if-“ you step up on the funhouse stairs, hands on the railings, blocking the path. You swing down, leveling your face with Sero’s. Your breath is cool and tauntingly sweet. He wants to taste it. He wants to taste you.

“If?” Sero prompts, swallowing thickly. He watches you lick some residual sugar off your lips, and the need to assist you with that is overbearing.

“If you can catch me in under two minutes.” You swing away, always so close, yet unobtainable. For a moment your dress flutters up, and he catches a glimpse of your blue, cotton panties. He felt bad when he saw them earlier while you climbed out of a ride, but now he kinda thinks you want him to see them. The organ inside Sero’s chest thuds at the challenge, and his carnal monster roars in agreement.

“I’ll only need a minute,” he whispers as you lean forward again, eyes darkened with allure. There’s no way you don’t know you’re teasing him now. The look on your face is borderline devious.

“You’ll have to do it with the bear, in under a minute, then. If you can’t catch me before the time is up, you have to carry him for the rest of the night.”

“And when I do catch you in under a minute?” Sero asks, fully aware that he’s being overconfident. It only makes sense, since he’s gotta throw his giant ego around tonight.

“You’ll earn my utmost respect—maybe a prize, too, if the ruler of the fair knows how to ask for it.” The grin you offer him is potent—a blow that taunts the urge to wrap his arms around you and steal the dare away from your lips. “I’ll even call you King Sero, or my liege—whatever gets your blood pumpin’.”

“What kinda prize?” Sero rasps, as you toy with the choker around his neck. You pull on it, yanking him closer. He can smell your shampoo while your lips press against the shell of his ear. It’s as if you’re going to whisper a secret, but instead, you move to kiss his cheek.

“It’s a secret,” you whisper-laugh, once again leaning away and backing up the stairs. Again, he catches your dress swaying up, and he knows he needs to catch you. “Gimme a ten second head start.”

Cheeks burning, Sero takes a step up the stairs. “No way.”

“Five seconds!” You call, giddily rushing through the first part of the funhouse. You disappear through a thrum of inflatable clowns, and Sero’s chest aches with the partial promise of your secret prize.

“No way!” He yells, taking off after you. He’s immediately bombarded with bright colors of yellows, reds, and purples—clowns hitting him in the face, and your answering giggles. He uses the giant bear as a sort of shield to push through the plastic crowd, only to find himself in a new room, full of dozens of you, and dozens of him.

Sero bonks his head on a mirror and sees about ten of you, clutching your stomach in delight while he tries to make it through the maze. You tease him with a song, matching the tune of the carnival music echoing through the funhouse, and he follows the sound of your pretty voice, extending his hands out to make sure not to hit his head again. He knows he’s almost out when all of your reflections disappear, along with your song.

The next room is just a long hall with a trampoline. You’re nowhere to be seen, so Sero doesn’t even spare a second to jump around like he normally would. He charges forward, only to hear you laughing from somewhere behind him. He turns to see a little divot in the wall—a room he wouldn’t be able to see from from the angle he first entered. Through the hidden doorway, Sero finds himself in a room lit up with pink and red lights. The carnival music is louder here than any other place due to the speaker drilled into the wall. The room is empty, besides the pair of blue cotton panties on the floor, and you with your back and hands pressed against the farthest wall.

“You found mee,” you sing with a flirty lilt in your voice. There’s a strain in Sero’s jeans from knowing that you’re standing there, stark underneath that summer dress, waiting for him.

Sero drops the bear and walks towards you. “In under a minute?”

You bite your lip and shake your head. “I was hoping you’d be counting, big guy.”

“I was—definitely.” Sero experimentally presses both of his hands into your sides. You hum and shift your hips so your pelvic bone presses against the bulge in his pants. Longing lodges in Sero’s throat while your arms move around his neck.

“So did you win?”

Sero’s laugh is forced through his tight windpipes. You’re playing with the hairs in the back of his head, practically begging him to kiss you. He knows you’re waiting for him to make a move, but if he’s being honest—

“Well, y’know, I hit my head on a glass pane, and had to start over—“

“Pffft! You’re such a dork!” You move your hands to his chest. He catches them, and slides them behind you, against the wall. Your breath catches when he drops his head down to yours.

“You like it,” he whispers as he grazes his nose against yours, right before your lips touch. His hovers over yours for only a moment—a couple seconds to really feel your anticipation, until he’s on you, and everything is right.

Your kiss is soft and tastes like funnel cake—potent and addictive. He slides his hands back down to your neck and cups your jaw, pulling you into a deeper kiss. His tongue pushes between your two soft pillows, tasting you, savoring your heady flavor. As satisfying as it is to finally kiss you, he knows it’s not enough. He pulls away only to trail more kisses down the hollow of your neck. “What was my prize again?”

Your answering laugh is breathy, as if you’re not expecting it. You clasp on to Sero’s shirt while he runs a hand up your thigh, lifting your dress. His kisses travel lower and lower, from your chest, to your stomach, until he’s on his knees, hands on your pert ass, and the light material of your dress shrouds him. This way, he can see your beautiful body, from the curve of your breasts, to the soft tuft of hair at your pubic bone. He tongue toys with your entrance, enjoying the little shudder you give him right before he sucks on your clit.

“Ohh,” you sigh, lifting your leg over his shoulder. “I thought you were supposed to get a prize.”

“Mhmm,” he groans into you, noting the way your body shakes with the vibration of his voice. He gives your sensitive flesh little kitten licks, while he slides two digits into your rousing heat. You moan, loud enough to be heard over the music, and Sero loves it. He wants to hear more of it—to know just how good he can make you feel.

While he traces circles around your clit, his fingers curl inside of you, pushing against the soft pads of your inner walls, coaxing out your pleasure. When your back arches, he props you up so now both of your legs are around his shoulders, and he’s holding you up with his own strength, and the supporting wall. He moans whenever you do, knowing when he’s got you, and wanting to enhance all the sensations he’s making you feel.

He picks up the pace, lapping at you until your voice breaks and you contract over his fingers. The sounds you make are far too pretty to end so soon, so even when he knows you’re at your peak, he doesn’t stop until you’re panting obscenities, and your legs quiver around him.

When you’re finally done twitching, Sero eases your legs off of his shoulders, only to have you stumble and fall back. Before you can catch yourself on the wall, Sero wraps an arm around your waist, catching you against his body.

“My god, Sero.” You breathe, kneading your fingers into his shirt. You pull on it, peeking at his deep v-line, and bite your lip.

He smirks in I-know-you-want-me.

“So, about my prize?” Sero prompts with a raise of a brow, the carnal monster’s tail wagging. “Thought you were gonna call my my liege or somethin’.”

“Oh? Is that all you want?” You begin undoing his belt-buckle, caging him in with a seductive stare. Zippers drop and you treacherous fingers move into his jeans, cupping him through his boxers like you already own it. In a way, you do—Sero’s been a fucking simp for you since day one—but you don’t have to know that. Not when the ball is in his court. “I thought you’d like something a little more than that, but-“

With the power of all the gods that have cursed Sero’s name, you remove your hand from his pants. There’s a pounding ache, both in his chest, and his seriously angry erection, and he no longer thinks and just does. Rather, that carnal monster completely takes over. He’s grabbing you—anywhere he can get his hands on. He trips over himself trying to get more of you—he needs to grab your curves, he needs to know what makes you gasp, he needs to feel you everywhere. You’re pushed back up against the wall, legs up, beautifully wet core exposed. He loses his pants, and you, sweet, hot, and slick, are sliding onto his cock.

“Ohhhh, fuck,” Sero murmurs at the same time your mouth falls open, taking in his length.your legs curl around his hips and he can tell by your warbling pleas that he’s stretching you. That only goads him into pulling out and slamming back into you.

You yip, head thrown back in surprised bliss and Sero has to curse again, because shit, he always thought that you’d feel good, but he never anticipated how well you’d hug him. It’s like you’re made for him, and he genuinely has to stop himself from saying something dumb like thank you, and instead continue his thrusting.

“God, Sero, y-you’re-“ You’re panting, brows furrowed, clinging onto him for dear life as he grooves against you with a delightfully hip-tingling pace- “s-so deep!”

“Tell me it feels good, baby,” Sero grunts through his teeth. “Tell me you like this cock.”

“Yessssero, you feel s-so—aaahhh-“ You’re cut off when Sero assaults your neck, licking your soft skin, before sinking his teeth into you. You mewl, and he feels you tighten around his dick. He groans, low and animalistic, sucking on you harshly, knowing he’ll leave a mark, and reveling in the fact that it’ll look so pretty on you. “You look so hot with that stupid fucking choker. I-! God, I’ve been wanting to do this all night!”

“Hah!” He can’t help but laugh. Even when he’s so far gone, and you feel like that, wrapped around his cock, snug and intoxicating, you’re still so fucking cute. Not just hot—you’re such a dork, it’s no wonder you make him crazy. He meaningfully wraps an arm around your waist to draw you in closer, chuckling against your skin, thinking about all the cute shit you’ve done today.

“Hhharder.” Your voice is laced with need while you knot a fist in Sero’s hair, snapping him back into this fantastic fucking moment. He’s not sure if you want him to bite you harder or fuck you harder, but he sure as well is gonna find out. “Please, Sero! More! More!”

He grunts and slaps his palms to each of your ass cheeks, gripping desperately as he pulls you deeper onto him, fucking you faster. You’re practically bouncing on his dick by the time he finds a nice, albeit furious, rhythm, wailing in ecstasy. You’re hissing the word, “yes,” over and over, and he can feel himself start to lose control.

He lets one of your legs touch the ground, so he has a free hand to rub at your swollen clit. His tongue finds yours, and your moans mute out by his sloppy, eager kiss. His fingers draw quick circles around you, while he slows his pace, feeling for that peak.

“You gonna come for me, babe?” Sero seethes against your lips. “Squeeze my cock with your hot little cunt? That’s all I really want for my prize, y’know. Think you can do that for me?”

“Just a little more.” You breath shakes as your nails dig into his arms. “Don’t stop fucking me, Sero. I need you.”

Sero grinds his hips into yours, his tip pushing up against that sweet, velvety cushion inside of you. “Like this, hon?”

“Y-yeah, that-! Just like that! I’m-!” He feels it then. You surge, pussy spasming  around him. You make a sort of long whimpering sound and melt into him, clutching the lapels of his shirt, and pulling him into a kiss. He finds himself quickly growing addicted to the taste of your lips, and it distracts him from his own oncoming orgasm. It’s too late for him to pull out, so he chokes on a groan, and let's go. He spills himself into you, coating your fluttering walls with white, hot seed.

“Oh, fuck.” He laughs breathlessly. He holds you still, but he can already feel himself spilling out of you. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“No?!” You ask, half-incredulous, half-amused.

He’s happy to see you’re in good spirits, but when you moan a tiny bit when he pulls out, his half-erect dick does a little jerk. Inwardly, Sero scolds that carnal monster, and quickly uses your briefs to clean up the mess. He peeks at you apologetically, then pockets your soiled panties.

“That’s kinda pervy,” you say, coy, but your smile is as bright as ever.

“I mean, if you wanna carry around cum-covered underwear, be my guest.” He moves to grab them again, but instead, you lace your fingers with his.

“No, no! You did good!”

Sero lifts a brow. “Just good?” That carnal monster huffs. “If you’d like to go again, just be to sure-“

“No, that was something else!” You chuckle, grin widening. “Like, wow. We should’ve started doing that months ago. Who knew all I had to do to get you to fuck me was drop my panties to the floor?”

Sero snickers. “If I knew you wanted me to fuck you, you could waggle a finger at me, and I’d come a-running.”

“That so?” You let go of his hand, and bounce back to the room’s entrance. You cast a look over a shoulder at him, do a little beckoning motion with your finger, and disappear.

The carnal monster barks at his feet to get a move on. Sero makes a mental note to bring you to the fair every chance he gets. He takes off, chasing you through the funhouse, following the sound of your beautiful laughter.

[kikis-writing-world]

Whiskey Straight - The Dance (5)

Jack Daniels x F!Reader

You’re back home, safe in the arms of your husband, but you know it isn’t over. When the mysterious men call and give you your mission - hopefully the last you will ever have to perform - it’s not exactly within your comfort zone. You have to push through, get it done, and then life can go back to normal... right?

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: Sexual content (stripping, dancing,) dubious consent of unwanted advances and kissing, light violence. It’s a pretty tame one compared to last time. If I missed anything, let me know. It’s been a while.

A/N: I am so, so sorry for how long this took, but I’m pretty happy with how it came out. Next chapter will be Jack’s POV, so I’m sure that will answer questions you’ve been having (and any that this chapter leaves you with lol.) And I hope to have it up in about 1-1.5 weeks. Definitely don’t want to make you guys wait as long this time. Enjoy!!

Series Masterlist  -  Prologue  -  One  -   Two  -  Three  -  Four  -  Five  -  Six  -   Seven

You woke the next morning sore, stiff and - most importantly - snuggled tightly into Jack. Your face was tucked into the hollow of his shoulder, your arm draped across his chest. His arms were wrapped tightly around you in return. Birds were chirping and you could hear a lawnmower running in the distance. You opened your swollen eyes, the bright sun diffused by the curtains but still lighting the room.

“There she is.” Jack’s smooth, quiet voice startled you. You hadn’t realized he was already awake. You lifted your head to look at him, seeing him smiling lazily down at you. His hand caressed your back, trailing up and down the line of your spine as the other gripped your hip.

“Time’s’it?” You mumbled, starting to turn to look at the clock but Jack’s arms closed around you, stopping you from leaving him.

He kissed your lips, gently and chastely. “I called in for both of us.” He explained, loosening his hold as he felt you relax.

“Why’d you do that?” You questioned, confused. Jack never took a day off work without weeks of notice and planning for his absence.

Jack chuckled. “Well, first you didn’t wake up with the alarm. Then you didn’t wake up when I called your name or shook ya. I figured after yesterday you needed some sleep.”

Your stomach dropped out at the reminder of yesterday. Being knocked out. The hood over your head. The interrogation in that big, empty room.

You shuddered, pressing your face back into Jack’s shoulder as you nodded. Jack rubbed your back soothingly as he hummed a quiet “thought so.”

You nodded, trying to keep yourself from crying at the mess you’d found yourself in. You desperately wanted to tell Jack what you’d done, beg his forgiveness and ask for his help, but you knew you couldn’t. All of the threats weighed heavy on your mind, keeping your lips sealed.

“You ready to talk about what’s got ya so shook up?” Jack asked gently, his large hand never stopping it’s slow, steady circuit up and down your back.

You kept your face pressed into Jack, keeping him from seeing your reaction as you tried to think up an excuse.

“I blew a tire on the way home from work.” You settled on, staying hidden as you spoke. “Bad part of town. Took the tow a while to show up.”

“Why didn’t you get a hold of me? I would have come to get you?”

“Too shook up, I guess? Wasn’t thinking straight.” You sighed. “Stayed with the car, kept the doors locked.”

You felt Jack nod his understanding. “Well, next time call me, okay?”

“I will.” You promised.

It was a quiet day. Jack had suggested the two of you stay in lounge clothes and snuggle up on the couch to watch movies together. Even as the sun started to dip lower in the sky, he suggested take-out for dinner. It reminded you of the early days of dating him, having movie nights in on days you didn’t feel like going out together. The slow, lazy day calmed your nerves, even if you couldn’t fully push the day before out of your mind.

You were clearing your plates and putting away the leftovers from dinner when the phone rang. It was the first time it had rung all day, which was strange especially considering Jack took the day off work. The fact that no one had called him to check in on something or ask a question was rare. While you didn’t know for sure it was for you, your stomach dropped.

“I’ve got it!” You yelled, stopping Jack in his tracks. He stood next to the table, watching as you frantically dried your hands on your pants as you ran into the other room to answer the phone.

“Hello?” You answered, anxious but trying to keep your voice even.

“Bourbon.” The voice was deep and robotic, the same type of voice that had badgered you with questions the night before.

“Y-yes.” You acknowledged, taking a few steps farther away from the kitchen where Jack waited.

“Listen carefully, these instructions will not be repeated.” The voice started, and you nodded, gripping the phone so tightly you could hear the plastic groan. “In exactly one and a half hours, at 9:00, you will go downtown to The Marriot Marquis. The front desk will have an envelope waiting for Bourbon. It will have further instructions. Understand?”

You bit your lip, rubbing your forehead with your hand. You just wanted this to be over with. Hopefully this one last thing would be it, then you could go back to your life. You never would have guessed months ago you’d be yearning for the old monotony. 

“Yes.” You confirmined.

“One more thing: Dress sexy.”

You nearly choked on air as your breath hitched in your throat. “What?” You barely resisted the urge to shout. You heard a click on the other end of the line, but you asked again “What do you mean?”

It took a moment for the tone to indicate there was no one on the other line anymore. You cursed under your breath as you hung up the phone.

“Who was it?” Jack asked.

“W-work.” You told him, cursing the stutter in your voice. “They need me to run in for an hour or two.”

“Really?” Jack frowned at you as you came back to the dining room. “It couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“No.” You shook your head, avoiding making eye contact with him. “Sandy made a mistake on something and I owe her. Many hands make light work.” You lied.

“Alright.” Jack sighed. “Let me finish up the dishes then. Least I can do.”

“Leave them ‘til tomorrow. It’s fine.” You waved off his offer.

“If you say so.” He grinned, giving in easily. You knew how much Jack hated the dishes. He pressed a kiss to your forehead as he passed you, making his way into the den and flicking on the TV. You heard him switch over to a football game and knew he’d be occupied while you got ready.

You opened your closet, pushing all your everyday clothes aside to look for something “sexy.” You couldn’t remember the last time you were trying to dress sexy. You used to pay attention to  fashion, treating yourself now and then to something new. It made you feel good, and it certainly reaped it’s benefits from Jack as well, but it had been a long time. Now when you bought clothes it was usually for work, to replace a blouse that had worn out. You had a few dresses in the back of your closet that you hadn’t worn in… you couldn’t even remember how long. That’s when you spotted the black, lightly shimmering fabric towards the back.

You pulled the garment out, staring at it. It had been one of your go-to “little black dresses” when you had been younger and still in need of such things. It seemed to be the only one that had survived the various clothing purges over the years. The neckline was a low V - not scandalously low, but certainly lower than your usual clothes. The sleeves went about halfway down your biceps, ending in a soft ruffled fabric that you knew wasn’t really in style anymore but not quite garish. The dress hit your knees, showing off a modest amount of leg. It wasn’t perfect, but short of going shopping for something completely new, it seemed like your best option. You hoped it still fit, grabbing one of your large purses and shoving the dress inside along with a pair of black heels. You grabbed a small make-up bag, throwing in the necessities - eyeliner, maskara, lipstick - and tossed that in the bag too.

You got dressed, picking underwear that would work with the dress, a simple black set that wouldn’t show underneath the dress. The panties were a thong that you couldn’t remember wearing in a while, but knew it would avoid any lines in your silhouette. It also would hopefully help you get into the mentality of being sexy, even if the dress wasn’t the hottest new style. You otherwise dressed as you normally would for work. 

You kissed Jack goodbye on your way through, although with his eyes on the game he barely even noticed. You made it out of the house and into the car with no fuss, now you just had to drive to somewhere you’d be able to change and get downtown in time. You still had an hour, so as long as you stopped along the way and traffic wasn’t bad - it should be fairly calm at this time of night - you’d be able to make it.

Your heels clicked against the floor of the hotel lobby as you approached the desk. You glanced around between the other people coming and going, wondering if any of them were involved with the mission you were on tonight. No one gave you a second glance, too invested in their own lives, their own business. You looked the part of belonging in the upscale hotel, having changed from the casual workwear into the dress in a fast food bathroom and doing your make-up in the car. With an hour and a half notice, not only was it the best it was going to get, but it was pretty damn acceptable if you said so yourself.

“Welcome to The Marriot Marquis,” the girl behind the desk greeted pleasantly. It didn’t do much to calm your nerves, not knowing what the next step would be. “How can I help you tonight?”

“I’m picking up an envelope. For Bourbon.” You barely kept your voice even, but you managed.

“One second, let me check.” She opened a drawer in the desk and flipped through for a moment before lifting a small manilla envelope with a sound of triumph. “Here you are, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” You took the envelope, forcing a polite smile at the girl before taking your leave.

You looked around the lobby for somewhere inconspicuous to open the envelope. There seemed to be people in all of the areas, but the decorative pillars along the wall of the lobby would provide some privacy. Glancing around cautiously, you opened the envelope.

You leafed through the items: a piece of paper with a handwritten telephone number and instructions, a plastic baggy with some kind of tiny computer chip inside of it, and a little envelope from the hotel with a room key and a room number written on it.

The instructions told you to wait until the concierge took his break at 9:05 and use his phone to call the number for further instruction. You glanced at the clock on the wall, seeing it was 9:03 - you’d thankfully gotten to the hotel on time, otherwise you might have missed his break.

You stayed by the pillar, trying to keep your breathing even as you waited for the man to leave his desk. The waiting was almost worse than the drive over. You tried not to let your mind race too much about the next steps, but it was practically impossible not to.

Thankfully you saw the concierge stand and leave his desk after only about a minute. A glance at the clock told you that he was leaving his station a little early. You waited a moment to make sure he wasn’t coming back before approaching the desk as casually as you could manage. The phone was sitting within reach, making it easy to call the number.

The line was answered, but no one spoke. The end of the ringing and the click of the connection was the only sign that it had been answered.

“This is Bourbon.” You whispered, holding your hand over the mouthpiece of the phone to avoid any eavesdropping.

“Listen closely.” The usual voice warned before continuing on. “The man inside the room is a suspected arms dealer. You will go inside the room and place the bug near the telephone.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you listened. The little computer chip must be the bug. You were about to ask how you’d manage to do that without getting caught, but he continued.

“You will be posing as a prostitute named Michelle. Tell him that his usual girl, Carla, is sick. If he likes you, he will tell you what to do.”

“Hold on, I can’t…” You interrupted. “I don’t have to… I can’t sleep with him. Do I have-”

“No.” You breathed a huge sigh of relief, but it was short lived. “He likes to watch. If you do not put the bug by the phone, your mission is incomplete and the deal is off.”

Before you could ask anymore questions, the line went dead.

Your hand shook as you hung up the phone, taking steadying breaths as you thought over the instructions you’d just been given.

He likes to watch.

What were you going to have to do, that he’d watch? It was one thing to have to sleep with him, but to perform for him was…

You felt like you were going to be sick, and luckily there was a sign pointing towards the washrooms in the lobby. You made your way towards them, as quickly as you could in the shoes you’d picked for the evening.

You closed yourself in a stall, leaning against the door. The bathroom was empty aside from you, and you could hear your gasping breaths echoing off the tiled walls as you tried to calm yourself.

You repeated the instructions in your head over and over. Place the bug by the phone. Prostitute named Michelle. Carla is sick. You soon found yourself outside of the stall, pacing in front of the sinks, running it all through your head. You wondered how long you’d been in there, but knew you had to stop stalling eventually. This man was expecting Carla… “Michelle” was probably already late.

You caught sight of yourself in the long mirror sitting on the wall. You stared at yourself hard. You didn’t look like a prostitute. At least, not what you assumed a prostitute would look like. You’d seen them on TV, never in real life- to your knowledge, anyway.

The ruffles along the sleeves of your dress had to go. You pulled at them experimentally, hearing a few stitches pop as you did. You took a deep breath and braced yourself as you pulled as hard as you can, the ruffled fabric ripping away from the body of the dress along with part of the sleeve. You tore the rest of the sleeve off and quickly repeated the action on the other arm. It was a good start.

The dress was too long, that was for damn sure. You gripped the skirt of the dress on either side of the hem running up your leg, pulling hard. It held together a bit stronger than the sleeves, but it still split as you tugged at it. You pulled it once more, trying to grow the slit you’d just created. You squeaked as it went further up your thigh than you meant it to, but you supposed it worked for the role you were playing. It wasn’t indecent enough that you would feel completely exposed as you walked through the halls to the room.

You adjusted your breasts, pulling them as high as they would sit inside your bra. Luckily the neckline of the dress was already low - you remembered the day you’d bought it, reasoning with yourself that the plunging neckline was socially acceptable on account of the rest of the dress being fairly modest.

You dug your lipstick out of your purse, applying it more heavily. The red made your lips pop much more than your usual style. Your eyes were already lined with the black eyeliner you had applied and you used some tissue to smudge the line out, making it seem smokier.

Finally, you took some water in your hands and used it to restyle your hair, pushing it back, away from your face and slicking it just slightly. You took a step back to look yourself over.

You looked nothing like the woman who had walked into the hotel, although that was probably a good thing. You looked cheap, especially with the slightly ragged alterations you’d made, which was also a good thing. You struck a pose, biting your bottom lip as you tried to make a sexy face. Honestly, it looked better than you expected, and it gave you a tiny boost of confidence.

You thanked whatever power was listening that you’d worn heels and decent underwear - although the thought made your stomach turn once more, wondering just how much more clothing you’d be shedding tonight. You didn’t think you could handle being naked in front of a man who wasn’t Jack. You prayed to that same power that it wouldn’t come to that.

Shaking the thought from your head, you took the bug from the plastic bag and snuck it into your bra, making sure it was safe and secure in place. With your hands at your chest, you saw your wedding ring glint in the light. You took a moment to stare at it, realizing the weight of what you were doing as you moved to slide it off your finger. It didn’t come off easily, having been on your finger for years without coming off. You had to wiggle it a little, but it came off into your hand. You slipped it onto your right hand, turning the diamond inside your palm. Now, it just looked like a plain band. It would do. With one last deep breath, you picked up your purse and left the bathroom.

It was easy to find the room, following the numbers until they led you to a set of double doors at the end of a hallway. It had to be a suite. You used the key to unlock the door and pushed it open.

It was dim inside the room, barely any light coming in through the windows on account of the rain outside and the only interior light coming from the fireplace. You could see the seating area, but there didn’t seem to be anyone there. You walked inside, taking cautious steps as you looked for the man you would be… well, looking for the man.

There was a large, open archway into another darkened room. You could make out the posts of a huge four-post bed, a few candles sitting on a ledge beside it, as well as the outline of a loveseat on the wall nearest to you. The table in front of it held an ice bucket with a bottle inside, a single glass next to it.

“Hello?” You called. You worried you had taken too long in the bathroom, and that the man had left.

“Hello.” A voice came out of nowhere, making you jump. You turned in the direction you’d heard it from and saw the silhouette of the man sitting near the far window. The candlelight didn’t make it far enough to light him, making it impossible to identify any of his features in the dark.

You composed yourself as you realized he was watching you. You tried to portray confidence as you set your purse down on the loveseat.

“Help yourself to some Champagne.” He instructed, his accent thick. It sounded European, but he hadn’t spoken enough for you to pinpoint where he could be from.

You kept your eyes on him as much as you could as you poured yourself some of the champagne. You could hardly stop yourself from drinking back the whole glass, needing some liquid courage to keep you going. It was already gone when you realized that it might not have been the smartest thing to do. You had no idea who this man was and he could have slipped anything into the bottle. You had drank too fast to even notice if it tasted strange.

You set the glass back on the table, walking further into the room. You stopped beside the bed, hoping your stance portrayed confidence and sexiness as you relayed what you’d practiced over and over in your head.

“My name is Michelle. Carla is sick, but she thought you would like me.” You were proud of how even it came out. The rehearsing had worked.

He was silent for a moment, and you could feel his eyes boring into you even if you couldn’t see his face.

“Let me do the talking.” He ordered, voice smooth. You bit your lip, hoping you hadn’t messed this up already. “Start by unzipping your dress.”

Your mouth went dry as you closed your eyes, wishing you weren’t too scared to have more champagne. You reached behind you, fumbling a little for the tiny zipper hidden in the fabric.

“No.” He stopped you, your eyes popping open. “Turn around. Do it doucement. Slowly.”

You turned around, glad that you wouldn’t have to keep your face straight as you pulled the zipper down your back.

“Good,” he praised as you moved. Goosebumps popped up on your flesh as you exposed more and more of your back to his gaze and the cool air of the room. The zipper was almost all the way down when he told you to slip it off.

You dragged it down your arms, turning to face him once more as it bunched around your chest. You pinned him with a stare that you hoped was more sexy than it was frightened as you let the fabric gather around your waist. You hooked your thumbs into the dress, pushing it slowly over the swell of your hips before it fell to the ground. The goosebumps were all over your body now and you fought not to visibly shiver. He praised you once more as you stepped out of the fabric bunched around your feet.

You clasped your hands in front of you as you waited for his next instructions, hands wringing together.

“Now slide off your nylons.” He told you.

You frowned, looking down at yourself. “I-I’m not wearing any.” You explained.

The man faltered in his seat, his shadow moving. It took him a second to speak again. “Now dance for me.”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, looking up at the ceiling as you began moving your arms and shoulders, snapping along to an imaginary beat 

“No, no, no.” He stopped you quickly. “Dance sexy. Imagine your hands are the hands of your lover, let them touch you the way your lover would.” His accent, which you now suspected to be French, grew stronger as he instructed you. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark enough now that you could see his legs crossed and the way his chin sat on his hand, but still no defining features.

You nodded, closing your eyes as you started to move your hips. It was stiff at first, but as you rested your hands on your hips, you rolled them more fluently. You imagined your hands were Jack’s, sliding them up your waist as you rolled your body. You grazed over the swell of your chest teasingly, moving further up to rest on either side of your neck. As long as you kept your eyes closed, you could think of Jack. Think of the night before when he had made love to you.

You stepped outwards, widening your stance as you began to get into it, bending your knees as you swayed to an imaginary beat in your head. You placed Jack in the chair the man was in, trying to think back to the start of your marriage - the excitement, the want to please each other, the openness to trying new things. You imagined the look on his face as you mentally danced for him.

You ran your hands through your hair, rolling your neck before running your hands back down your body again. You teased the waistband of your panties, imagining the way Jack would have licked his lips at the prospect of you taking them off so soon, but you continued down your legs. You groped your inner things, squeezing the soft warm flesh.

As you rolled your hips, you turned your body so your back was to the man once more. Your hands trailed up over your hips, bracketing your ass as you swayed it back and forth in what you hoped was a tantalizing manner. You moved your hands lower down your legs, bending at the waist and truly putting your ass on display for the man. You felt the chip shift inside your bra, making you snap back upwards to stop it from falling out.

You looked over your shoulder at the man, seeing he was leaning forward slightly. It was working. Feeling emboldened by his interest, you took the post of the bed in your hand. You gripped it, rolling your hips forward as you leaned backwards, arching your back. You lowered yourself back to the ground, bending your knees as you climbed down the frame with both hands.

Once you were nearly on the ground, you bounced up and down slowly as if you were riding Jack. You let go of the post to cup your breasts, subtly checking that the bug was still securely in place. You could feel the tiny chip against your skin. It was a tiny relief.

Turning your attention back to the man, you dropped all the way to your knees, turning and crawling a few feet towards him. You didn’t dare get too close, but you hoped he was enjoying the show, the view of your cleavage.

You bit your lip as you sat back on your haunches once more. Starting at your neck, you slid your hands slowly down your body once more, highlighting all your curves. You closed your eyes, trying once more to imagine your husband in front of you.

You sat back before rolling over, landing a little clumsily on your knees again but facing away from the man. You crawled back towards the bed, making sure to sway your hips. You heard something clatter behind you, but when you stopped to look at the man nothing had changed except his posture. He was leaning in even further, seemingly enthralled in your performance.

You used the frame to pull yourself up to standing once more as you kept gyrating.

With your back to him, you used the post of the bed once more, almost imagining it to be a stripper pole. With one hand on it, you bucked forward and back. You ran your hands in your hair and looked over your shoulder at him.

“Now lie on the bed and close your eyes.”

The request had you stopping dead in your tracks, leaning up against the post. You took a shaky breath, remembering where you were and why you were here. You were here with a mystery man, a potential arms dealer, not your husband.

You sat on the far edge of the bed from him, back to the man as you tried to collect yourself. Your legs felt like jelly, and it wasn’t from the dancing.

“I… I thought you liked to watch.” You stuttered, staring at the phone on the nightstand. You briefly wondered if you could drop the bug next to it and bolt without him realizing what you’d done.

“Now lie on the bed and close your eyes.” He repeated.

You barely bit back a whimper, your eyes closing tightly. You took a deep breath before doing as instructed, scooting to the middle of the bed and closing your eyes as you laid down. The hotel bedding was scratchy against your skin, the sensation amplified with your sight gone. You listened hard for any noise, any clue as to what the man was doing next as you trembled.

You heard him moving, his clothes brushing against the chair as he stood. You tried to calm your breathing, trying to pinpoint his movements around the room. You heard him get closer to you, approaching the bed. He didn’t get on the bed on the side nearest him, instead you heard his footsteps, softened by the plush carpet of the room, round the opposite side of the bed. Your fingers twitched nervously as the bed dipped to your left.

He was silent, not speaking the whole time he moved. Your breath was coming in shallow pants, your nerves absolutely shot as you worried what he would do next. You were so incredibly vulnerable, laying on the bed in nothing but your underwear and heels.

You flinched as something brushed against your forehead. Soft, it trailed down the bridge of your nose. Despite your eyes being closed, you couldn’t stop the want to blink at the sensation. Your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks as you forced your eyelids to stay closed.

The item trailed farther down your face, over your cupid’s bow and your lips. Breathing in, you could smell something floral, which helped you place the feel of the item. It was a flower of some kind trailing over your skin.

It lifted from your chin before reappearing on your cheek, smoothing over the globe and down your jaw and neck. Your lips parted as you sucked in a deep breath, both from the lack of deep breathing you’d been doing and from the sensation of the delicate petals hitting the sensitive pulse point under your jaw.

The petals’ touch grew feather light as he trailed the flower down over your breast, dragging it down the valley of your cleavage. It disappeared from your skin before it reached your stomach, which was already tense in anticipation of the tickle of the silky petals.

With the light brush of the flower gone, your nerves jumped once more. The flower on your skin had at least been context as to where the man was and what he was doing. You waited for his next move, worrying what he would do to you. You felt the bed shifting beside you as he leaned closer, causing you to hold your breath. You felt his breath flutter across your face a second before his lips pressed to yours. You barely held back your squeak of surprise, freezing as he kissed you. His moustache tickled your nose as his lips, softer than you had imagined, caressed your own, unmoving lips.

You unfroze after a moment, opening your eyes and looking back and forth for something, anything that would help you escape this situation before it escalated any further. The only thing you could see past the shadow of the man’s face was the bedside table next to you, the phone and a lamp sitting on it. The lamp looked heavier, but it was farther. You’d have to reach and see which you could actually get to.

You started moving your lips against his, bringing one hand up to his shoulder as you tried to distract him by participating in the kiss as you reached over with your other hand. You moved slowly, not wanting to alert him of your ulterior motives. You wanted to move faster, wanted to get this man’s lips off of yours. You were thankful he seemed happy taking his time kissing you, his hands and lips not wandering, not trying to explore your body any further.

You felt your fingertips touch the plastic of the phone, your arm almost fully extended. There was no way you’d reach the lamp without moving anymore than you already had. You closed your eyes tightly as you tightened your grip on the phone, preparing to attack. You would have taken a deep breath had you had the space, but you weren’t that lucky. Instead, you counted to three in your head.

One. Two. Three.

Your eyes shot open as you pushed the man back by his shoulder, swinging the phone towards him and hitting him in the face. He leaned over, clutching at his face with a loud groan. You didn’t hesitate, sitting up and hitting him over the back of the head once more.

He fell off the bed and you sprung up. As soon as your feet were under you, you delivered a swift kick to his ribs, an easy target as he was on his hands and knees.

“Bastard!” You screeched at him. He groaned again, cursing as he gripping his ribs.

You didn’t wait to see how incapacitated he was, rushing to where your dress sat on the floor. You picked it up, siling it back on as quickly as you could. You held it up, not bothering to fuss with the zipper as you ran towards your purse.

You started to run towards the door when you remembered why you were even here. You cursed under your breath, digging the chip out of your bra. You had to do this, it was the only way to be done with all this bullshit.

You ran back into the bedroom, avoiding the man as he crawled on the floor in pain. You gave him a wide berth as you passed, sticking the bug behind the lamp. Without even sparing the man another glance, you ran past him once more.

“Shit, darlin’. Wait!” The man drawled, having caught his breath. “Who taugh’ya to kick like that?”

The voice made you freeze, nearly tripping over your own feet in your haste to stop running. The voice was nothing like the smooth European voice that had been directing you minutes ago. You knew that Southern drawl.

You turned, staring down at the man as he leaned back on his haunches, the candles catching his side and finally showing you his face.

“Jack?!”

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[chrispevanss]

Under Your Cover

A/N: This is my (incredibly) late entry to @allaboardthereadingrailroad​ Marvel Diversity Challenge. My prompt was ‘Swimming Pool Summer’ by Capital Cities. If you enjoy, drop a comment, leave a reblog, send me a message, let me know! 

Warnings: Smut, Unprotected Sex, 18+ only!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Black!Reader 

Word Count: 2293

“Bucky,” The name slipped through your lips as a pitiful whimper. Your nails scraped across his scalp, down the smooth expanse of his back. Bucky’s hands balled the sheets next to your head, his hips slapped against yours, desperate to reach that ethereal high.

“Yeah princess, just like that.” Bucky’s hoarse grunts pierced your ears, drawing you closer to your end. One hand absently trailed down your body, a single fingertip skated across your clit, sending waves of pleasure screaming through your body.

“I’m, oh god, yes!” Your mouth hung open in a silent O as your orgasm took over. It stole the words from your lips, replacing them with guttural moans, and scrapes of your nails down your partner’s back. Bucky followed a handful of thrusts later, his own orgasm turning him into a feral animalistic man. Large hands gripped your hips, sure to leave bruises behind, a reminder of who you belonged to.

When your head finally surfaced again, you were pulled into the soft expanse of Bucky’s arms. His lips peppered kisses along your head, his hand, mindlessly twirled across the naked expanse of your back. His skin was warm, and you could smell the intoxicating cocktail of his cologne and sweat where your head lay in his neck.

The soft thump thump of the bass from the party below brought you fully back to reality. Back to the reality that this was just a casual thing, that come tomorrow you would go back to work, and Bucky would go back to saving the world.

“We know Stark throws great parties, but I think the best party is the one we make in the bedroom,” Bucky chuckled into your hair. A smile found its way across your lips, a giggle broke the silence between the two of you.

You lay in bliss for a few more stolen moments. But that bubble of bliss was soon popped by a sharp, persistent knock on the bedroom door. With a groan, Bucky climbed out of bed, sliding his gray boxer briefs over his pert ass. The knock came again, harder and more persistent.

“Gimme a second!” His tone reached toward exasperation. He fished his pants out of the pile of clothes and flung the door open, pants half zipped. And came almost nose to nose with a tall, well built blonde on the other side.

“Bucky!” He drunkenly slurred. Bucky finished zipping his pants and sighed, shoving his hands in the front pockets.

“Steve, I’m a little busy here. Why don’t you go downstairs, have some water and I’ll come find you when I’m done okay?” Bucky said protectively. He slid the plastic cup from Steve’s palm, much to the latter’s disdain.

“Fine,” Steve pouted. Bucky closed the door, the click of the latch the sweetest sound you had heard that night.

“Now where were we?” Bucky started to shuck off his pants and underwear again. He knelt at the end of the bed, staring at you with unbridled lust in his eyes. He crawled toward you, the dim light glinted off the thin layer of sweat on his body, and you had to swallow down a desperate moan.

After Bucky made you come undone twice more, you lay next to him, your fingers tracing the hard lines of his body.

“I should probably go check on Steve,” He laughed, breaking the silence.

You reluctantly crawled out of the large bed, grabbing your own clothes from the pile, leaving your panties for Bucky as a souvenir.

“See you in a couple weeks?” You laughed softly, kissing Bucky’s chest.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, girl.”

—

His lips tasted like the cream soda he had been nursing all night, mixed with a soft hint of mint toothpaste. Intoxicating, really. Your hands curled around his shoulders as you pulled him impossibly closer, blurring the lines of your bodies.

“What do you say…” Bucky started.

“Yes.” You spoke up, answering the question that sat unspoken. His fingers found yours in the dark, you trailed behind him, away from the party, from the people, to a bedroom at the end of the hall. It was decorated in shades of blue, accented with beach themed decorations. A choice that screamed suburban guest room.

Bucky closed the door with a soft click and turned the lock into place. A shiver crawled up your spine as he wound his arms around your waist from behind, his face descended to your neck. You moaned softly, hands carding through his hair.

“Strip.” The comment was curt. Cutting through your haze of lust. You bit your lip, slowly unbuttoning your jeans. The material slid to the floor with your panties. The cool air stung as it hit your sensitive clit.

Bucky cooed praises in your ear. Your hands curled around the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head.

“Now the bra.” He instructed calmly. Your fingers unhooked the cotton garment, discarding it to the floor with the rest of your clothes. Your nipples pebbled in the cool air of the room,  a shiver crawled up your spine as Bucky’s fingers traced along your hips.

“Now what?” You whispered huskily.

“Get on the bed and spread those pretty legs for me,” Bucky’s lips ghosted across your neck, pulling soft moans from your chest.

You leaned forward on the bed on all fours, making sure you wiggled your ass as you climbed toward the headboard. Bucky groaned in appreciation and you bit your lip when you heard the familiar sound of his belt loosening and the zipper of his own jeans descending.

“Like this?” You teased turning around, grabbing the backs of your thighs, feet flat on the mattress, your most intimate area exposed to your lover.

“Touch it.” Bucky breathed, his hand wrapped around his erection, slowly stroking. You dipped your fingers in your mouth before skating them down your body, the tips brushed against your sensitive clit.

Your fingers circled your clit, slowly, soft whimpers echoing off the walls. Your middle finger dipped inside your soaked folds. Using your slick as lube, your fingers began to circle your clit faster, harder. Your back arched off the bed as you plummeted towards your own end. Bucky’s breathing was labored, grunts and moans ripped from his chest.

“You close?” Bucky was at the end of the bed now, one knee on the bed, cock still firmly in hand.

“Yes! Oh fuck yes!” You cried out, tears had begun to form in your eyes, your fingers swiping over your clit even harder, faster. You could feel the coil within you tightening, you were almost there. Your head was thrown back, eyes slammed shut, right on the cusp.  

Smack.

Your eyes shot open, bewildered. You were ready to chastise whoever decided to interrupt your most intimate of moments. Bucky stood over you now. Completely naked, a dark smile crossed his face, your own features softened.

“Why?” Your voice shook.

“Because, the only way you’re going to get to cum tonight is gonna be on this fucking cock, understand?” Bucky’s voice was but a low growl as he caged you in with his arms. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You moaned, pulling him closer.

“Please?” You looked up at him doe-eyed. Your cunt was throbbing, and you were sure he could feel it without even touching you.

“What do you want?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow in your direction. Your hips bucked towards his, but before they could meet, before you could get the friction you desired, his hands shot out, pinning you to the bed.

“Buckyyyyyyy…” You whimpered, your finger traced down his chest, you put up your best demure front.

“Tell me. Use your words, and tell me. Or I’ll get dressed and leave right now.” Bucky dragged the tip of his cock along your folds. You preened into his touch, desperate mewls leaving your lips.

“Come on,” He cooed. “Tell Bucky what you want.”

“Your cock! Just fuck me stupid already!” You huffed. A wicked smile crossed Bucky’s face as he dipped the head of his cock into your waiting heat.

“Oh God,” Your eyes rolled back, hands gripped at his biceps. Nails dug into his flesh.

“That’s just the tip baby girl. You must be really desperate tonight,” He mused. His hips slowly bucked forward, driving his cock into you inch by agonizing inch.

When he finally bottomed out, you couldn’t hold back the loud moan that tumbled off your lips. Bucky grunted, almost feral, as he pulled out and pushed his cock back in.

“Every single time baby, so fuckin tight,” His teeth grit in pleasure, his hands white knuckled the sheets.

“I-I won’t last long, Bucky” You whimpered, your hand reaching between your bodies to rub your swollen clit.

“You’re gonna last until I tell you to cum, you hear me?” Bucky’s teeth caught your earlobe, his fingers pushed yours out of the way so his thick digits could circle your little nub.

His thrusts picked up, all sense of romanticism out the window. This was raw, animalistic, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t absolutely love it. His free hand gripped both of your hands and pinned them above your head, the sound of skin slapping against skin barely audible above your shared moans and cries of pleasure.

“You ready? You cum when I tell you or not at all okay? 3...2...1...cum” Bucky growled in your ear. Your orgasm crashed over you, sending you off the edge into that ethereal high. Your back arched off the bed, your heels dug into his ass, your clit pressed against his sweat warmed skin.

Bucky managed a few more thrusts before his cock began to swell within you. As you began to descend from your own high, Bucky reached his. Spilling his seed deep inside you, marking you as his. You moaned at the warmth that radiated through your body. His teeth sank into your neck as he rode out his own high. His hips stuttered, he spilled the last of his release into your womb before he pulled out, rolling to the side, chest heaving.

“What the fuck was that?” You smiled, leaning up on your elbow to look down at Bucky. He chuckled and pulled you in for a kiss.

“That was called sex, and that’s what we do everytime there’s a party because we don’t know a damn person out there, and sex is a lot more fun than trying to act like you’re interested in some drunk person’s stories.” Bucky’s hand ran down your sides while he shook with laughter.

You smacked his chest playfully. An ungodly snort escaped your body as you too shook with laughter.

“No! I meant the ‘you cum when I tell you or not at all’. The whole Dom vibe.” You clarified. Bucky looked into your eyes, lust glinted behind his crystal orbs.

“Did you not like it?” He cocked his head to the side. You quickly backpedaled, shaking your head no.

“No! No! I loved it. It’s just so unlike you.”

“Thought I’d try something different and truthfully,” He leaned forward to whisper in your ear, “I’ve never cum harder. And if I’m not mistaken, I think the feeling is mutual.”

Your face grew warm and you cast your eyes down to the navy blue sheets. You nodded tentatively, chewing on your lower lip.

“C’mere.” Bucky opened his arms, and you gratefully obliged, snuggling your body up to his warm, broad frame. You breathed in the oh so familiar cocktail of his cologne and sweat. The nightcap of your trysts as it were.

You lay in silence for a few more stolen moments before you gently pulled away from Bucky.

“You okay?” He propped himself up on his elbow as you shuffled through the pile of clothes, picking up your own garments.

“Yeah. I should probably go check on my friends. Make sure they aren’t downing questionable shots, or making out with questionable people.” You laughed, tugging your panties and jeans up your legs. “I think Tony is having a party next weekend, you gonna be there?” You already knew his answer, or hoped you did.

Bucky’s face fell to the sheets and so did your stomach.

“I uh. I need to talk to you about that. I know this isn’t the best place, I mean, we just hook up at parties but this has been eating at me since the first time we did this, what was it 9-10 months ago?” Bucky’s hand scrubbed the back of his neck, he sat up straight, still refusing to meet your eyes.

“Buck, if I’ve said or done something I’m really sorry. You know I never intended to hurt you,” Your voice cracked a little, you approached the bed and extended a hand to the still very naked man.

“No. No. It’s not that. It’s this. Us. This no strings attached hooking up. I can’t do it anymore. I caught feelings and I should have fucking told you a long time ago but I couldn’t. I didn’t wanna fuck up whatever we have because I really do enjoy you. I enjoy being with you, and I want that to extend outside of partying. I want to take you to dinner, and breakfast, I want to make coffee for you—” You leaned forward, cutting Bucky off with a soft kiss. His hand reached up to cup your face, as his opposite hand wrapped around your waist.

“So…..” Bucky chuckled, pulling away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. You smiled and bit your lip.

“Wanna go get coffee in the morning?”

“I’d love that,” Bucky whispered capturing your lips in another toe curling kiss.

Tagging: @tellmealovestory​ @dontshootmespence​

[miss-dr-reid]

Another Gubler Story... #3

Not too long later, we were on our way. The radio playing softly, provided background noise for our conversations. We spoke about our days of work, and I filled him in about how brutal customers can be sometimes.

"I'm sorry you had a bad day at work." he pouted, tapping his hand on my thigh before resting his elbow ion the center console, continuing to drive with one hand.

"It's okay! George brought doughnuts and then you called, and now here we are!" I cheered.

"Is George your secret boyfriend?" Matthew joked, bumping me with his hand, a smile across his lips.

And while, I wanted to answer, I knew there was no point, instead changing the subject. We ended up talking about old friends, family and childhood memories. Matthew was so easy to talk to. He was always listening to every word I spoke.

We finally arrived, pulling into the car park of a park/playground. and Matthew selected a park closer to the playground. I reached for my door handle, but Matthew's hand on my shoulder caught my attention. I looked over at him, and he shook his head at me, climbing out and opening the back door. He pulled out something, it looked like a picnic basket, stood back and closed both doors. He made his way around to my door, opening for it and standing back allowing me to get out.

Shutting the door and linking his arm with mine, we made our way over to an open area of grass where Matthew unlinked our arms. he put the basket on the ground, opening it and pulling out a blanket, spreading it over the ground. He sat down on the blanket, bringing the basket onto the end of it and looked up at me.

His eyes glistened behind his glasses which were lit up by some light posts surrounding the playground. The Spring breeze was soft, fresh and fragrant, blowing the loose curls of Matthew's hair. I took Matthew's hand as he held it out to me, helping me to the ground. The blanket was cool from the slowly dampening ground. The sun was almost setting, oranges and purples filling the sky. I sat down on a lean, sitting almost on my hip, facing Matthew who mirrored me.

He leaned over to the basket, where he pulled out a bottle of bubbly white and two glasses. Placing the glasses between us, he opened the bottle and poured some wine in each glass. He put the lid back on the bottle, laying it on the ground against the basket.

"To new beginnings and fun risks!" He toasted, lifting his glass up in the air. I returned the gesture, clinking our glasses together.

We each took sips of our drinks before placing them down onto the blanket in front of us. He went back for the basket, shifting himself into his knees. He pulled out a loaf of bread, setting it next to the bottle of wine. He then started pulling out small containers, placing them around the loaf of bread.

I sat up fully, curious to see what he was doing. I lifted one container, inspecting it to see what was inside, surprised to find sliced tomato. He continued to pull out a few other small containers and finally a plastic packet, which he handed to me seeing how intrigued I had become. A packet of sliced ham is what he gave me. I put it all together, seeing all the ingredients laid out and figured we'd be making our own sandwiches.

"I didn't know what you liked, so, I picked something that you could make your own!" Matthew said, finally sitting back, gesturing over the spread. He handed me a plastic plate, holding onto when I tried to take it. I looked up into his eyes, wondering why he didn't let go. He smiled at me softly as his eyes wandered my face before finally letting go.

"Help yourself and let me know if there's anything missing." He pointed to the food.

"Thank you, Matthew." I grinned before turning to the food. I laid my plate down, reaching for the bread, my eyes scanning over the now open containers, seeing what options I had.

On one slice of bread, I layered, ham, cucumber, lettuce, tomato and finally another slice of ham before another slice of bread.

I sat back, allowing Matthew to make his own. I watched him make his sandwich as I had felt him doing to me. He glanced back a few times, at my sandwich before adding another topping. I noted that he was copying the layers of my sandwich.

"Why?" I asked, cocking my head to the side slightly.

"Why what? Why the same layers? You looked like you knew what you were doing. I trust you." He said, answering his own question. The reply took me by surprise as he added the last slice of bread. He lifted his plate and sat back, facing me with his legs crossed. I laughed as he sat his plate in my lap, copying me.

I picked up my sandwich, securing the back of it. I took a big bite, bigger than I had intended, the smell of the salads caused me to realise how hungry I actually was. I hummed a moan at the flavour, and Matthew did, too. I could tell that he was genuinely enjoying the sandwich, and not just copying me anymore, the expression on his face as his eyes rolled back were all tell tale signs. We sat there, not saying a word, only eating our sandwiches. Small moans and the occasional sounds of chewing filling the air between us.

The sun setting, caused the whole scene to become even more romantic as the moon gently lit up our figures and glistened on the dewy ground. We both finished eating and Matthew collected our plates, stacking them to the side as he packed up the containers, putting them away into the basket, setting the stacked plates on top. He took my now empty glass and set it next to the wine bottle along with his own. He turned around, looking at me and stood up.

"Come." the word simple, effective, but gentle. His hands were pointed out toward me and I took them. My own hands becoming nearly entirely enveloped inside his.

His arms draped over my shoulders, his hands resting on my lower back, pulling me flush against him. My head resting on his chest, his heart beating in my ear. My own arms wrapped around his waist, my hands reaching as far around to the opposite sides as possible. I felt his chin rest on my head for a moment. He lifted his chine off, replacing it with a kiss, his heartbeat in my ear speeding up as he did so. I gave him a squeeze in response, the smile on my face growing bigger.

His arms lifted from me, his hands grabbing my shoulders as he pulled me back slightly. I looked up into his eyes, his glasses has fallen down slightly so I pushed them back up, allowing my fingers to trail gently over his lips and jaw before returning it back to it's spot around his waist. We stood there in silence for a moment, staring into each others eyes, smiling at each other.

Matthew finally pulled away, the warmth of hi body being replace by the cool night air and goosebumps formed over my skin. He had caught one of my hands in the midst of pulling away, leading me over to the playground. We walked to the swing set, where he released my hand and sat on one of the swings, an empty one next to him. I followed his actions, sitting on the free one, seeing how happy he was, swinging with anticipation.

We both started swinging, keeping in time for a bit until Matthew decided to go higher. I took that as a challenge, and tried to go even higher. Eventually, we were both swinging so high, the chains slacked as we reached our peak height before we were caught with a jolt at the bottom. We were both laughing from just how silly we were being, and soon I started to slow myself. I stopped swinging my legs and soon the swing calmed. I jumped off the swing, landing in on the barks chunks with a small 'crunch', I posed while saying "Ta-Da!".

I turned around to look at Matthew, who was mid-air jumping from his own swing. I started clapping, doing small jumps in excitement. My eyes closed for a brief moment, Matthew taking this opportunity to run to me. His footsteps quick, reaching me before I knew what was going on. My heart leapt from my chest as I was lifted into the air, holding on for dear life for a moment, my eyes squeezed shut, until Matthew said,

"You're beautiful." The words took me by surprise. I looked down at him from my place in his arms, the biggest goofiest smile on his lips.

"You are!" I replied, booping his nose with me own, pulling back to look at him. My face turned hot from the feelings rushing around inside me, butterflies in my stomach.

We were caught in that moment, staring into each others eyes. I couldn't help it when my eyes wandered onto his lips, my face being drawn towards his. Matthew had been glancing at my lips, too, licking his own lips once before his own face was drifting forward. With one final look at each other's lips we-

*FLASH*

We snapped away from each other, looking in the direction the flash had come from. Soon, there was another and Matthew put me down, telling me to stay put. He headed in the direction of the small group of trees where the flash had come from. The person who was hiding there ran off before Matthew had the chance to say anything and he headed back to me.

Reaching me, he cupped my face in his hands, looking deep into my eyes,

"Let's get out of here." was all he said. The words simple, but effective and we headed back to the picnic.

We packed up the rest of the picnic and I folded the blanket as neatly as possible. Matthew carried the basket and we walked to the car. We got in, throwing the stuff we were carrying into the back. The car started and Matthew drove out of the carpark without saying a word.

"Where are we going?" I asked him, breaking the silence.

"To my place." he said, and kept driving, his eyes on the road.

<3

[poptod]

Subterfuge (Baxter x Reader)

Description: You’re the new medical examiner. Like most medical examiners, you’re a little... different.

Notes: aghhhh im caught in so many lies with my family and friends that im gonna fucking break down but if i tell anyone the truth im gonna get my ass beat on several different levels WC: 1.7k

+

The latex gloves on your hands did little to stay the cold blood, staining up the skintight material that clung to your sweat. This wasn't the first time you had your hands wrist-deep in organs, but it was the first corpse who had a bullet in his eye, and the first time you were completely alone.

Your years as an assistant were finished, and now you were a full-on doctor––a medical examiner, to be specific. A coroner. The one who deals with the dead. Not a particularly charming profession, but far more interesting, and far more safe than most others.

There was one problem, though––the policemen. You were never a timid person, but some of them just got to you, itched beneath your skin and sped your heart. Why that was hadn't yet been identified, so instead you focused on something you understood; the human body. The stiffness of refrigerated muscle, the stench of uncleaned organs, a mask chafing against your cheeks. The heat of a bright light on your neck.

The man below you was a particularly unfortunate man. Died young, was never quite fully healthy, and had few friends and family. His method of death was what caught the eye of one of the detectives, though it seemed cut-and-dry to you. There were no struggle marks, puncture wounds, bruises, or even scars on his body. Only the bullet hole. He had to have done it himself. Still, it wasn't your job to question the detectives––only to bring them the information you gather.

"How's he lookin'?" Asked a man from behind you, the quiet hinges of the door swinging shut as he entered. You shot up, eyes instantly meeting his.

"Haven't gotten far. About through the small intestine," you said, gesturing to the different jars and plastic boxes categorized with the man's organs. The nearest to you was the lungs. You noted the scrunch in the man's nose with mild amusement.

"Gotten the bullet out yet?"

"Oh, yeah. Already sent it up for ballistics," you said with a curt, polite smile.

He remained silent after that, watching you work from the safe, mostly smell-free area of your desk. With his back leant on the table, he crossed his arms with intent eyes.

"You're the new medical examiner, aren't you?" He asked after a particularly wet squelching sound came from your working fingers.

"Yes sir," you said, nodding. "Started yesterday."

"Oh, this must be new for you then."

"I've done autopsies before, but this is the first time on my own, yes," you admitted with a tinge of embarrassment. It was the truth, that this was new, but he didn't have to mention it.

"Well then, welcome to the team," he chuckled. "My name's Baxter."

"(L/N). Pleasure to meet you."

"You as well. I'd shake your hand, but," he trailed off as the both of you turned to your bloodied gloves.

"Don't worry," you said, a grin spreading across your face. "I'll give you a raincheck on that."

He hummed, uncrossing his arms and legs as he began to saunter over to you. For the most part, you could easily ignore his eye, stuck between your concentrated expression and steady hands. Having teams of professors and doctors looking over your shoulder for exams had prepared you well.

"Find anything curious?" He finally asked.

"Not really," you mumbled, gently cutting open the flesh of the stomach. "Not yet. There aren't any cuts or contusions of any notable kind. Only wound I could find was the bullet hole and an infected bruise on his toe. I'll be sending blood, stomach, and stool samples up to Peters soon, I'm sure you'll know more then."

As you took the samples out of the victim's stomach, Baxter circled the brightly lit table, stopping when he reached the feet. There he knelt, scanning the pale blue skin.

"How do you suppose he got this?"

"Haven't gotten there yet, but I'd assume he bashed it against some furniture," you said. He eyed you curiously but remained quiet for a moment.

"Looks like a puncture wound," he said slowly, contemplating his words carefully before he spoke.

"Give me a moment, sir," you said with a huff, sealing up the stomach tubes and setting them on the tray beside you.

Since you were the only doctor present, you had to hold the stomach walls open yourself, which kept you busy for a good two minutes before you could look at Baxter's little pointer. To your immense relief he waited patiently for you to finish sewing and setting away your tools, before shuffling to the side to make room for you at the end of the table.

As he noticed, there was a small, dark spot beneath his big toe's nail. Digging into your white coat pocket, you pulled out your magnifier glass and set it up close to the cold skin.

"Could be right," you said softly, focused more on your sight than your tongue. You raised a gloved hand, pulling at the wound, pushing on the bruise till the hole widened.

"Needle mark?"

"That's what I was thinking," you said, shoving your magnifier glass back in your pocket. "Good eye, Baxter. I'll tell Peters to check his blood for any trace drugs."

You circled back around to your spot on the table, sorting through the six tube samples before lifting the case into your arms. Noticing your small stumble over your feet, he rushed over to join you, taking the case from you.

"I can take this up for you," he offered, his wide, grey eyes set strictly upon you. The sudden closeness had your words stammering and stuttering.

"Um – y- yeah, thank you," you said with a smile, your chest tight as he left. Only when the door shut behind him did you breathe again, turning back to the patient beneath you.

Hopefully, when you got the chance to meet the rest of the officers, you wouldn't slip up like that––messing up in front of one person was enough, and Baxter already felt like a very strange person, so probably would mind your oddness the least. The others would be less forgiving, or at least that's what you assumed. Most of the police you'd met in your life had been incredibly straight-cut, diamonds-up-the-ass kind of people.

"What a strange lad," you commented to your patient. "I should bake him some cookies."

The rest of the autopsy took three hours, full of rotting stenches and labelled gizzards. Your thirty-minute break was reduced to ten as the victims of a bar shootout came in, the three bodies riddled with bullet holes, leaving the cause of death obvious to anyone who stopped by. You didn't see Baxter again that day––not until it was done, and you were wrapped back in your personal coat, heading towards the elevator.

He caught the door before it could close in front of you, and as you rushed in with full hands you hurriedly thanked him. A bell dinged and the door shut, leaving the two of you alone in the enclosed space, the buzzing florescent light buffering between you.

"Did you hear about the shootout?" You asked when it became clear to you that this was a slow elevator.

"Yeah," he nodded, "I got a call and stopped by, but... they were already gone, and the, um.. the others were dead."

"Well, if they weren't then, they are now," you said, once again ignoring his questioning eye. "I had to put their brains in some jars."

To your surprise, he chuckled, brushing the hair off his face and readjusting his perfect posture.

"You know, usually it takes some time before new people start making jokes about the dead," he said, grinning as he looked at you out of the side of his eye.

"I'm a fast learner and a natural comedian. Mother always was disappointed in my career choice... wanted me to be a court jester," you teased with your own giggle, heart beating rapidly at the prospect of someone pretty enjoying your company.

"You do well in both careers. Do – do you need some help with that?" He asked, noticing your struggle with the varied bags in your arms.

"I think I can do it," you said, huffing as you tried to hoist the plastic back onto you. Before you could help it two of them slipped, nearly falling but halted when Baxter caught them mid-air.

"What do you have in here?" He asked, his brow furrowed as he tried to glance inside.

"Clothes," you said after a mumble of a 'thank you'. "One of the women here had a lot of clothes to get rid of and, well, I need some. And I'm sure one of my roommates could use them, too."

"Oh. Do you have a car?"

"You could call it that."

"I'll help you carry these there, then," he said, taking another bag off your shoulder. The loss of stress on your muscles left you relieved, and you sighed happily.

"Thank you, sir."

You tried to contain your smile as you led him through the parking lot, slipping between the empty spaces to get to your tiny vehicle. Legally it wasn't even a car––actually, you'd built it from the basis of a golf cart, slowly adding and changing features until it drove and looked essentially like a car. Hard work, but you'd been doing it since you stole it in the 7th grade.

Rarely did you ever get along with people, and so Baxter's politeness had sparked a delight in you that brought a ceaseless smile. When you took the bags from him, you thanked him again, attempting to hold a conversation while shoving the bags into the back of your car. He chuckled at your strained words, but eventually helped you when he got over his amusement.

"It was nice to meet you today, and thank you, again," you said once the backdoor was slammed shut beneath yours and Baxter's combined strength.

"Pleasure to meet you, as well. Drive safe now," he said, shaking your hand with a grin.

"Oh I will," you assured him, laughing. You clambered into the driver's seat, shutting the door but leaning out the open window. "If I don't I'll have you on my ass."

"You know it!" He said as he walked away, his bright laugh echoing in the mostly-empty parking lot.

[babi-correia]

1+1=...3?

From Anon:

Could you do a Jesse Lee Soffer imagine where they bring their newborn home?

Words: 1364 Warnings: None? Pairing: Jesse Lee Soffer x Reader A/N: GIF by me from THIS post

You can barely believe your eyes when you see the two lines on the small plastic stick on your sink’s counter. Grabbing it gingerly, you take a deep breath.

You think back to the stomach flu you had caught a few weeks ago and how the doctor had advised you that the medication would probably cut the effect of the pill. You had payed it no mind since you hadn’t thrown up a single time, but when you failed to get your period when it was due, you knew you probably should have listened to the doctor.

Your hand is shaking when you grab your phone, opening your texts with Marina and shooting her a quick message.

You: I need to talk to you, and Jesse can’t know.

She calls you through facetime almost immediately and you answer, sitting on your bed with your back against the headboard.

“Is everything ok, (Y/N)?” She asks, worry etched on her face.

“I screwed up, Marina.” You say, holding the small plastic stick in front of the camera. “I’m pregnant.”

Her mouth drops and she quickly moves, walking briskly until you can hear the door to her trailer close behind her.

“Are you serious? That’s amazing!” She says, grinning from ear to ear. “How are you going to tell Jesse?”

“Marina, we weren’t trying for kids. The medication I took for my stomach flu cut the pill’s effect.” You say, feeling the tears brimming your eyes. “I don’t even know if he’s going to be on board with it.”

“Have you seen Jesse around kids? He’s a total softy, and he’s going to be stoked to have one of his own.” She says, invoking her motherly soothing voice. “You don’t need to stress about it, he’s going to be 100% on board.”

“Thank you, Marina. And I’m sorry to bother you, I’m just at a complete and absolute loss about this.” You sigh, rubbing your forehead.

“It’s ok, sweetie. I’m always here for whatever you might need! I’ll hook you up with my lifesavers during pregnancy. I’ll see you later.”

She blows you a kiss before the call disconnects and you put your phone down, your hands resting lightly on your stomach.

“One plus one equals three, huh?” You mutter to yourself, sitting in bed for a bit before you put on a pair of shoes, a cap and sunglasses and drive to the nearest mall.

You quickly browse the baby aisle, picking the smallest pair of neutral baby shoes available and a newborn-sized body before going to the self-checkout, doing everything you can to not be recognized and outed before even Jesse knows.

When you get home you set the body and the shoes on top of the bed, taking a postcard-sized piece of paper and scribbling down “1+1=3… Oops?” and setting it down on top of the body, with the test next to it.

The minutes tick by as you wait for Jesse to arrive home, and you rush to the bathroom when you hear the familiar sound of his bike parking in the driveway.

“(Y/N)?” He calls out as he enters the house, setting his keys down and taking off his shoes in the entrance.

“In the bathroom!” You call out, wringing your hands together as you hear him climb the stairs.

His footsteps stop briskly as he steps inside the room and you step into the room, looking at him as he looks down at the setup you left on the bed. He points at it, confusion on his face as he turns to you.

“Is that- Are you serious? You’re pregnant?” He says, a smile spreading across his face as you nod. He closes the space between you in two strides, wrapping you in a tight hug that you eagerly return. “I’m going to be a dad!”

-

Almost 9 months later you’re laying on the hospital bed, and Jesse’s sitting in the chair by your bed, holding your baby girl inside a bundle of blankets while he facetimes his mom.

“Hey Jill!” You greet, trying to wipe away the tiredness from your eyes.

“(Y/N), darling, how are you doing?” She asks, beaming as Jesse uncovers your daughter’s face and shows her to the camera. “Oh, she’s just precious!”

“Emma’s great, and I’m doing fine, within possible.” You say, smiling at her. “I almost broke your son’s hand.”

“It’s nothing he can’t take, hun. It takes two to tango, and if you were suffering, he should suffer with you.” She says, making you chuckle. “When are you guys going home?”

“I think today, actually.” Jesse says, rocking Emma as she fusses. “In a couple hours, maybe.”

As if on cue, the doctor comes in the room with the charts on his hands, a smile on his face.

“So, Mrs. Soffer, I think we can clear both you and little Emma there to go home and rest where it’s familiar for the mom.” He says, casually flipping the sheets and reading your file diagonally. “It was a trouble-free pregnancy and labor, and I think that Emma would feel better in a quiet and homely environment where it smells like her parents than in this sterile hospital, don’t you think?”

“I’d say yes.” You reply as Jesse says goodbye to his mom and ends the call.

“Alright, I’ll file the papers for your release, but keep in mind that you’re going to have to take it easy nonetheless, Mrs. Soffer. You just gave birth. Mr. Soffer, you’re going to have to help mommy around the house.”

“He already does.” You say, smiling at Jesse.

“Alright, I’ll be right back with the forms for you to sign, but I think you can get dressed in the meantime.” The doctor says, excusing himself as he leaves the room.

Jesse sets Emma down on the little hospital crib as he gets up and gets your clothes from the bag, setting them on the foot of the bed as you gingerly sit up.

“Need help with anything, darling?” Jesse asks, quickly moving to be by your side and help you get up. You wobble a bit at first but quickly find your balance, moving slowly towards the bathroom.

“Just hand me the clothes, please.” You say, running a bit of water before splashing it on your face.

When you get out of the bathroom fully clothed, you find Jesse talking to your daughter as he puts her in her car seat.

“And you’re not gonna cry during the night, because mommy is scary when she can’t sleep properly, ok? Believe me, the last thing we want is a grumpy, sleep deprived mommy.” He whispers to her as he buckles her in. “But no matter how grumpy mommy is, always remember that we both love you very, very, very much.”

“I don’t know what a good night’s sleep is since about a couple of months ago, I’ve gained control of my grumpiness.” You say, tucking yourself into Jesse’s side when he extends his arm towards you. “But daddy was right about the last part, we love you like you can never imagine. And your dad and I are going to have to kick some serious butt in a few years if you manage to pull his genes.”

“I’ll have to buy a shotgun to scare off your boyfriends.” Jesse says, making you slap his chest.

“That’s a little too much, honey. A little talk from momma bear will suffice, I’m sure.”

“Oh, that’s another thing!” Jesse exclaims towards your daughter. “Never, ever get on mommy’s bad side. It’s the worst.”

Jesse kisses the top of your head as he grabs the car seat with his free hand and pops it down in the wheel set, hoisting your bag over his shoulder before he turns to you.

“We’re going home?” You ask, receiving a grin in response.

“Yeah. My mom insisted and there’s going to be a cozy, warm, home-cooked meal waiting for us when we get there. And Marina may or may not pop by with a ridiculous amount of baby things.” He says sheepishly, making you chuckle as the three of you make your way down the hallway.

[mxchellesworld]

KINKTOBER DAY 1

request from this list 

kink 6, 24 | dialogue 10 

Kylo Ren x Reader

warnings; smut, breeding kink, corruption/innocence kink, mention of blood, injury

a/n: sorry for starting a day late i was so overwhelmed with all the requests flooding in lol, but i am very excited to start this with you horny little monsters! also this is my first time writing for kylo but as an avid star wars fan and prepping by reading some fics im ready to give this a go. 

Hope you enjoy :)

***

Stars you must have been going mad. Being a nurse on the starkiller base wasn’t the most noble job but it was a job nonetheless. Your parents were both high ups working on the base since you were born. You had only known the coldness that came with being on a ship devoted to crushing the resistance. 

You didn’t have many friends at all, mostly keeping to yourself, trying your hardest to stay under the radar from the supreme leader himself. He was a bit older than you, but you had seen his rise into power. He was known to be nothing but stoic, a hard figure ready to crush anyone who got in his way. Though you had never really seen him. Just during the speeches had you gotten a glimpse of the of the obsidian mask. 

It was a normal day in the medical center, tending to those who were recovering from injuries and making sure the place was sanitary should there be an emergency. As you were making your way back to your station a flashing red alarm went off. That only meant one thing, A medical accident in the prestige quarters. You had only hoped it was General Hux or another higher up. 

Making your way through the corridor the pit in your stomach was growing. You dreaded the thought of having to tend to Kylo unnerved you. Maybe it was fear? Or maybe it was the feeling pooling in your trousers at the thought of being able to see what was under the mask. 

As you reached the quarters the other nurses were rushing to the biggest room at the end of the hall. Kylo’s room. He was pacing back and forth, you noticed the giant red gash on his face, but where your real attention went was to his bright eyes. You were stuck in place until you realized you could see them so clearly because he too was taking in your frame. No matter how tall you were he still towered over you. You instantly looked down as you entered the room. Setting your medical supplies down. 

“Master Ren can I ask you to take a seat please,” you let out meekly, sneaking a little glance to make sure he actually heard your voice. 

You heard the chair scrape and felt the gust of his long black cape brush past you. His large boot came into your vision you were still looking down. Maker everything about his was enormous. No. You shook yourself out of your thoughts. These weren’t appropriate thoughts to think about someone who could make sure you disappeared in an instant. 

Your hands shook as you took out the gauze and sanitary serum to apply on his gash. Looking up you noticed he was watching you intently, almost as if he was trying to read you. His eyes are dark, pupils dilated only showing a small ring of the coffee color irises. He was awfully calm, for what you had heard about him The man mad who ruined control panels with the powerful blazing red saber.

The silence in the room was deafening. His heavy breathes outsounded yours as you tried your best to keep your thoughts at bay. 

“Master Ren I’m going to c-clean this up. It might sting so I greatly apologize.” The only sign of recognition of your words was the short grunt he let out. Maker that shot right to your core. 

Even sitting he was barley shorther than you, his face at level with your chin. Taking a breath to steady yourself, one hand took his face while the other dabbed the cotton swab on the cut. He let out a hiss at the discomfort and you held that breath. 

“Continue,” he said lowly. 

You did your best to do your work, minimizing adding onto his discomfort when you felt a sharp pain in your head. You gasped at the feeling, trying to hide the face of shock in order to seem professional. Another while passed and you felt it again. This time accompanied by a voice. It was you. Your thoughts but not your own doing. 

You were frozen looking down into his challenging gaze. Your mind flooded with visions of you on your knees, spit dibbling down your chin. Another of you pressed against silk black sheets, the strange feeling of something large in your most private area. 

Your hand came up to grasp your head. “What are you doing to me?”

“I felt something deep inside you. These are strange thoughts to be having about your supreme leader. You just seem a little.. innocent.”

You felt the heat radiating off your cheeks. You were sputtering to let out an answer but nothing seemed to be able to come out. Behind this stoic demeanor there was something almost excited in him. Like he was fueled on seeing your humiliation. 

“It seems the girl can’t get out any words. Can you?”

“No” 

“No, what”

“No master Ren”

He hummed as if pleased with your answer before he continued, “Now care to tell me why such an innocent thing is having these visions?” 

By this point he was standing. You were encompassed in his large frame. Looking down at you expecting an answer. 

You couldn’t speak. There was nothing you could say to save yourself or to to lessen the amount of embarrassment you felt. 

“Still no words.” His hand went and wrapped in your hair. He bent down with you, bringing you down until you were on your knees. “You’re a naive little slut who thinks she can take me.”

You mewled at his words and at the growing pressure from his hand pulling at your scalp. He pulled you closer to his face, sharing a breath as he stared speaking again. “I can ruin you. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You looked up at him with wide eyes, trying your best to nod within his grasp. You hissed as he let go of your hair. Yet you stayed on your knees the evergrowing feeling of wanting to please him blooming in your chest. 

“Good” he said lowly. He heard you thinking again. “Take off your uniform.” 

Your unsteady hands went down to the little plastic buttons on the top of your long tunic. Reaching down to pull it over your head. Next you kicked off your shoes in order get your pants down your legs. Once you were down to your undergarments you could feel him watching you like a hawk. Eyes scanning your body. 

“Get on the bed,” you walked the few feet to the large bed. Dark sheets like the ones in the vision, soft to the touch. He made his way over to you, standing in between in your parted legs. His hand cupping your breast was gentle, strange compared to the harshness of his words. 

“You know I can take what I want.” you gulped. “You’d let me fill all your holes with my seed. Taking you like the needy whore you are.” His hands traveled down to your thin panties. Rough hands gripping the fabric before tearing them right off your lower half. He wasted no time in reaching down to cup your heat. 

“Already so wet,” he said pushing in a finger. You moaned at the intrusion. Thighs trying to close his hand in where you needed it most. He started to curl it in your tight hole. Hitting the spongy spot that you didn’t even know was there. 

“Master Ren please,” you sighed out. 

“So desperate to be fucked. So eager.”

You groaned when he removed his fingers. Instantly yelping as he flipped you over. You tried your best to steady your hands, gripping the sheets before what you knew was to come. Then you felt it. His large leaky tip pressed at your entrance. He let out a groan as he sheathed himself fully in your wet walls. You let out a broken scream at feeling. His stretch driving you mad. Before you knew it his hands went to your hips as he started driving in and out. 

You could feel your essence dripping down your thighs. The pressure of his massive cock reaching the deepest parts of you. You were a mess of broken moans and curses. His bruising grip never faulting, surly to leave marks later on, tears springing in your eyes due to the mix of pain and pleasure. 

“So fucking tight. Just a hole for me to use”

“Kylo please... gonna cum” 

You didn’t think you’d be able to cum without any clit simulation but the feeling was just too sweet. He sped up his thrusts, hitting that spot just right, making you see stars brighter than the ones in the sky. The knot in your belly burst. You bit your lip trying to contain the whimpers and almost scream. 

His thrusts started to falter as he was close to his end. He reached back into your hair pulling you up. His clothed chest pressing against your nude back. 

“Tell me what you want, whore”

“Please fill me with your cum master Ren!”

The groan he let out in your ear doubled with the last harsh thrust in your sensitive pussy was enough of a warning before you felt him spill inside you. He started slowing down trying to ride his high the last he could. You fell forward into the sheets, catching your breath. 

You both shared a sigh as he pulled out, tucking himself back in his trousers. The feeling of your mixed releases sticky and leaking out of you. 

Turning around you saw he picked up your clothes before setting them next to you on the bed. 

“Get back to work,” he said walking out of the room but before making it all the way out he turned and said “I want you back here after your shift” 

[lambourngb]

If you are still doing this, to make it through (with hearts and wrists intact)

combining the wip ask with WIP Wednesday ! Alright, so there’s two remix challenges going on right now, but I didn’t sign up for either of them because I have enormous anxiety about deadlines and I’m also kind of a control freak about my work. I do love the concept, so I decided to remix my own work.

to make it through (with hearts and wrists intact) is a remix of Last Years Wishes. It is completely the fault of @haloud who mused aloud about what if Jesse got to use the shed on Michael. You guys remember what I did to the shed in LYW right? Yeah. Poor Michael. So while Alex is waiting at the Airstream, talking to agents Ross and Rollins, this is how Michael’s day is going....

[warnings: canon divergent within 1x13, mention of Michael’s feelings for Maria, but nothing happens past the discovery of Rosa’s body in the cave ]

“Old man, you are calling me on my day off,” Michael yelled into the receiver of his cell phone speaker over the rushing sound of air after picking up the call. 

The windows were down because his AC in his truck went on the frizz again sometime during when Max had stolen-borrowed it to drive Liz home from Texas, leaving him behind to share a long awkward ride with Maria in her classic Chevy. Awkward because he had been buzzing from the encounter in the desert. He hadn’t slept with anyone in weeks, not since Alex, and that had been a ridiculous attempt for him to pine in celibacy considering just how little the other man had missed him. Some things end in a whimper.

Texas had been about hope, about maybe finding someone who was connected to him on a species level. He hadn’t realized how deeply Max’s enthusiasm had sunk into him until the fraud had been revealed and disappointment had set in. Between Alex’s brusque brush off and realizing they really were alone on this planet, Michael hadn’t thought he could feel even lower with the weight of Isobel’s salvation fully on his shoulders (and Liz’s). Then shining like a bright star in the night sky, he had found Maria. 

She had effectively chased away the touch starved ghouls that had haunted his skin that night, he could still barely believe they had dropped right to the rocky ground and scratchy blanket to fuck. It was the type of raw passion he had with- no, in that particular moment he hadn’t thought about Alex but afterwards? He couldn’t avoid the connection the next morning, particularly when she had sworn him to secrecy, and then had reinforced it when she had fully kicked him out in the cold after he had returned her repaired necklace. 

It was unfortunate for her that he was already wired to enjoy a push-pull hot-cold dynamic.

Ten years of Alex Manes meant Michael had learned to read past a blustering denial to see the real truth. She really liked him, she just didn’t want to admit it, and good god, if that wasn’t a déjà vu moment for Michael, he didn’t know what was. Maybe it was stupid to believe it would work out any better with her than it had with Alex, but with Noah dead, his m- his reason for building his ship gone, what did it hurt to try again?

His healed hand curled around the grip on the steering wheel with a shiver of disorientation at the new flexibility, but he pushed it down to concentrate on that meager bubble of hope of what was ahead for him. Maria. Normalcy. When he had offered to leave her alone at the gala, she had refused to take him up on it. That's the problem, I never do. 

It had felt good to hear that, that he was wanted, even as he heard the conflict in her voice over what she desired versus what she thought she deserved to have. That was also painfully familiar to Michael as well.

Caulfield had seeped into his skin, three layers deep in the worst type of burn. That brief moment of his mother, wrapping around his mind with her love and sorrow and hope, and then she was gone. The screaming, that he had heard from outside the chain link fence, suddenly disappeared as the explosion moved outward in a shockwave. For a few minutes he had stood on solid ground in that prison, for the first time since a sweet boy had returned his kiss at seventeen under a galaxy of plastic foam planets, and then it was over. His mother was gone, and in her stead, he had Alex telling him that -

Michael forcefully pushed that thought away and returned his attention back to the cranky drawl of Walt Sanders, “I know kid, but I’m already out with the wrecker in the other ass-end direction, so I need you to go help this cry baby who can’t change a flat. Help me make some money, so I can afford to keep your ass employed.” 

“Fine, tell me the location, but this is holiday pay, not overtime.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sanders muttered, before rattling off the mile marker and the highway. “It’s a Lincoln sedan, black. Probably some old geezer out on a drive to church who ran into trouble.”

“You calling someone else a geezer is funny to me, I hope you know that,” Michael replied, hitting his turn signal to make a left to pick up the state road. It wasn’t as if he had a planned time to see Maria, the lunch hour and official opening of the bar was still an hour away. A little delay that made him some extra cash was doable. 

“Shut the hell up kid, and get going,” Sanders griped good-naturedly, before hanging up on Michael. 

The sun was bright overhead, the storm from the night before having washed the land and sky clean of clouds. Across the pavement ahead, the heat and the brightness, cast a mirage of dark shimmering water that creeped just out of reach as he drove toward his new destination. His mind ticked over the set of priorities ahead, to make a little money with a tire change, then to drop in on Maria to make his case, and finally, he knew he needed to swing by Isobel’s to check on her in the aftermath of Noah’s betrayal. Somewhere in all of that, he knew he would need to make it home to see Alex for that promised talk, but there was plenty of time for that because Alex rarely came by during the day to see him.

“I’m still fighting his battles, not mine.”

Michael flexed his hands on the steering wheel again and pushed down the heaviness in his heart that accompanied thinking about Alex. Ten long years of waiting and wanting him. If Michael cared to count up all of the trips to Roswell that Alex had made on leave, the two weeks together after the class reunion that frankly felt like a hallucination to Michael, all of those hours spent together would add up to a month. A month that stretched out over ten years, 520 weeks, or 3,650 days.

Counting the distance to the nearest star was in light years, but when it came to counting the distance between the stash of wedding rings he had purchased for Alex over the years and what he had been actually allowed to have with Alex, well, that was a calculation beyond the redshift spectrum. It would take energy to transverse that distance one more time, and Michael had nothing left inside to fuel that journey. He couldn’t afford to be lost in the black again, not with Isobel in free-fall from Noah’s years of manipulations, not with the prospect of telling Liz they had found Rosa’s body on the horizon. It was just too hard to believe that this time, with Alex calling him family, with Alex throwing back the closest declaration to love that he had ever made, actually meant he was ready to move toward Michael and work to cut the distance between them on his own.

It was better to head forward in a new direction, than to look back like Max had said. Besides, every other time he had failed to be enough of a reason to help Alex bridge his own chasm between what he wanted and what he had allowed himself to have. What could have changed? Caulfield had just cemented the complications for them both. 

A dark shadow in the distance, parked just off the road caught Michael’s attention. He glanced down at the odometer to mark the mileage and started to ease up on the gas. That must be the motorist Sanders had fielded a call from earlier, he realized. The ‘old geezer’ in the black Lincoln with a flat tire. He glanced in the rearview mirror to check for traffic but the road behind him was devoid of other vehicles. 

Michael hit the turn signal and hazard lights on his truck, turning briefly to the side to check that he had some spare water bottles for the customer and his toolbox within reach and then turned onto the shoulder of the highway. Mentally he was already five steps ahead of himself as he stepped out of the truck to approach the car, thinking about the size of socket to fit over the lug nuts for the Lincoln’s wheels, whether his torque wrench was even in his box, or if he would have to camouflage his telekinetic efforts to change out the tire, that it took a moment to realize the tires on the Lincoln were whole and unharmed on the driver’s side.

Puzzled, Michael slowed his approach, and started toward the passenger side of the car. The windows were rolled up and dark, the tint was straddling the threshold of legal for New Mexico. There was still no sign of defect in the tires, he noticed as he was halfway around the passenger fender. Faulty tire gauge, he mused before he noticed the engine was rumbling almost inaudibly. Fucking hybrid, which meant whatever issue it had been definitely beyond the parts available at Sanders.

It was a little odd that the driver hadn’t stepped out to greet Michael, but not terribly unusual when it came to elderly customers who seemed to have a healthy paranoia about everyone they encountered. Still, Michael pasted a smile on his face and tapped on the window. 

The automatic window slipped downward in an expensive whisper, but it wasn’t a helpless old man on his way to church at the wheel. 

Jesse Manes smiled at Michael flashing his teeth, “Surprise.” Before Michael could do more than step backward, Jesse lifted a large gun-shaped object and fired. Yellow particulate matter exploded into the air, enveloping Michael completely. Pulling his arm to his mouth to attempt to block the pollen, did little good as he felt the sedating effects almost immediately.

He coughed into the open air, scrambling back toward his truck on weak legs as he tried to clear his lungs of the fast-acting poison. Behind him, he heard the car door open, and the crunch of boots on the loose gravel from the road’s shoulder as Jesse approached him. Though his powers were gone and his strength was waning fast, Michael had never backed down from a fight in life.

Certainly, not a fight for his life.

Swinging with all of his might, he hurled his heavy toolbox at Jesse blindly. There was a thump and a curse, but the footsteps kept coming. Animal-like terror set in as Michael crawled now on his knees toward the cab of his truck. He had to move, he had to live, he wasn’t going to die here on the side of the damn road- Suddenly a black boot came down on his hand, pinning him place and lighting up a fierce agony of pain in its wake.

“I like the fight, Guerin, I do,” Jesse remarked with a quiet menace. “Shall I make this hand match your other-” 

It was on the tip of Michael’s tongue to point out the obvious, but then Jesse saw it for himself. His left hand, healed and pristine, clutching at the hot blacktop surface. 

“I see.” He barked out a laugh that chilled Michael. “I knew it. I knew you weren’t the only one in Roswell. I thought about killing you right here you know, but now, you might finally serve a purpose in your useless life. You thought you could use my son in your perverted schemes? Well now it’s your turn to be bait.” 

Michael’s vision was already fading into blindness with the pollen taking hold, but he managed to spit out between numb lips, “Go fuck yourself.”

“Not today. You’re the one who is fucked.” A hand grabbed a tight hold of Michael’s hair, wrenching him backward, and then it was merciful darkness. 

*** 

[enchantedsugden]

valentine’s day 2019

read on ao3

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

“Dinner’s ready.” Aaron hears just seconds after he’s closed the door behind him.

Robert’s standing next to a fully laid table, there’s wine and candles and Aaron let’s out a little laugh that sounds slightly bewildered to his own ears.

It wasn’t like he had forgotten that today was Valentine’s day but a long drive out for a scrap deal meant that he thought there was going to be little time to celebrate. Aaron hadn’t minded the lack of plans they made for today, he wouldn’t say he’s a big fan of the celebration anyway. Most important of all was that this year it was Robert who he was once again able to call his Valentine, today and forever and that was more than enough. Well at least he thought so. But now Robert’s standing there with a beaming smile on his face, Aaron isn’t so sure. He can’t help but feel guilty. He knows he has shown off his own talent for romantic gestures last year but it still seemed to be very much Robert’s thing and Aaron felt inadequate.

February was a month full of meaning for them and when neither of them had brought up Valentine’s day plans, Aaron had assumed all of the celebrating was going be kept for their anniversary or anniversaries, even.

That, and they had their hands full with the surrogacy, the both of them cautiously becoming more positive and excited about the prospect by the day.

Aaron’s glad he stopped off at David’s now to pick up the last of his doughnuts for Robert although that seemed like nothing compared to the effort Robert had put in. Aaron thinks of the card that’s still in the drawer of his bedside table. He had left for work when Robert was still fast asleep. At the time, leaving the card by his side didn’t seem right but now Aaron wished he had.

“Rob-“

“I hope you’re hungry.” Robert says before Aaron can say anything else, he’s still smiling so brightly and Aaron can’t help but mirror him.

“This is amazing. You didn’t have to do all this.”

“It’s Valentine’s day- the first one as legal husbands.”

That makes Aaron feel even guiltier. “Rob-“

But Robert doesn’t let him speak or even gather his thoughts. He’s already pulling at Aaron’s coat in an attempt to get it off him. He kisses Aaron’s forehead as he does so and Aaron can’t help but laugh at his husband.

“Rob- calm down for a second yeah?”

“Sorry- sorry I just missed ya. Do you want to eat straight away or do you just want some wine first?” Robert rambles on as he hangs up Aaron’s coat.

“Rob- just sit down for a minute will ya.” Aaron says as he goes to sit on the sofa, gesturing Robert to come and join him.

“Is there something wrong?” Robert turns around, looking worried now and that’s the last thing Aaron wanted. “Aren’t you hungry? Sorry I should have texted or called ya to ask but I didn’t want you talking on the phone while you were driving.”

Aaron sighs, once again patting the space next to him and Robert finally makes his way over to him.

As soon as he’s sitting down, Aaron grabs Robert’s hand, lays it on his own thigh. “Robert, all of this is amazing, I already know the food’s going to be amazing- that’s not it. I just wanted to talk to ya for a second. I’ve missed ya too you know.” Aaron’s half shaking his head, can’t have Robert thinking anything else. He takes a deep breath before uttering his next words. “I’m sorry about today- I should have cancelled. You’re right- it’s our first Valentine’s day as legal husbands. And I know we hadn’t really talked about doing anything today but I should have known that you would make an effort and I’ve got nothing to give ya in return.”

They do this now, talking about their feelings.

“Aaron.” Robert looks upset, mouth downturned and Aaron hates how this always ends up happening.

“You can’t seriously think like that. We have had a lot on our minds and it’s just a day- it’s not any more special than any other day. Please don’t beat yourself up about this Aaron, that’s the last thing I wanted. You had to work today- it was a good deal and well, I didn’t have as much on so I had the time to cook us something nice.”

Aaron nods, blinking away the tears in his eyes, the exhaustion after a long day finally hitting him.

“Sorry-sorry you’re right. Genuinely this is amazing Rob, thank you.”

“You haven’t even tasted it yet.”

Aaron laughs, “I’m sure it will be great, what is it?”

“Pasta.” Robert says, a knowing smile on his face and Aaron lets out another laugh, shaking his head.

“I hate you.”

“Nah, you love me. What’s wrong with reminiscing eh?”

“Nothing I guess.” Aaron says before feeling slightly guilty again. “Even then you put in so much effort on this day.”

“I had to really, hadn’t I- it was the least I could do.”

Aaron shakes his head, despite it being a year ago now, he can still remember it all so vividly. “You hadn’t done anything wrong, I agreed to babysit Seb remember?”

Robert smiles, nodding. “This year I get to spend Valentine’s day with you again, but now you’re actually mine and I don’t need anything else.”

His words shock Aaron and his eyes are full of tears within seconds. He hesitates before coming out with his own soppy response, knows that Robert deserves to hear it.

“You were always mine, even then.”

Robert’s looking at him in that way that always makes Aaron think about shying away before relishing in it.

“I love you- thank you.” Robert mumbles and Aaron shakes his head, knows what Robert’s thanking him for, even a whole year and a legal wedding later.

“Don’t be daft. I love you too, so much- you’re the only one I ever want to spend Valentine’s with.” Aaron says. All he remembers from this day last year was spending it with Robert, wanting him back, wanting Robert to be his again.

“That’s good to hear, husband.” Robert says, he’s beaming again and Aaron knows that there’s a dopey grin on his own face.

“Got you a little something though.” He says, suddenly sighting the plastic bag that he’d put on the coffee table earlier.

“You know me so well.” Robert smiles, looking genuinely pleased as he sees the doughnuts and Aaron shakes his head. “You and doughnuts, it’s all I need.” He says before Aaron has to shut him up with a kiss, can’t believe they haven’t even done this yet today.

It feels like they’ve been snogging like teenagers for hours when Aaron remembers his card.

“Got you a card as well.” He mumbles against Robert’s lips.

“Hmm, and there’s you saying you had nothing for me in return.”

Aaron laughs, diving in for one more kiss before putting some space between them. “Yeah best husband ever me.” He laughs but Robert looks serious, “you are.” And Aaron has to stop himself from moving closer again.

“Got you one as well.” Robert says as he walks over to the kitchen table, holding up a white envelope.

“Course you have.” Aaron smiles as he comes closer again, the card upstairs can wait.

“Love ya.” He says again as he grabs the envelope from Robert before putting it back on the table and wrapping his arms around Robert’s neck, bringing their foreheads together.

Maybe it’s not been the most perfect Valentine’s day, Aaron thinks as they are standing there, swaying in each other’s arms, but it was them and besides, they have the rest of their lives to perfect their Valentine’s day celebrations.

[randombtsprincessa]

Blackout

All Rights Reserved.

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Jung Hoseok x Reader (2nd POV)

Words: 2.6k

Genre: Smut

Summary: Lights are out. Thankfully Hoseok is in.

Warning: Blackouts, no electricity! lol, Hobi gets handsy, fingering, humping, mentions of sexting, skype sex, etc, riding, unprotected sex, creampie! Be safe kiddos! Basically birthday sex because it’s Hobi and I missed him!

It was probably one of the coldest days of winter. It was February, for god’s sake, and yet the temperature of the day was staggeringly low. You had shivered even before fully waking up in the morning, the shudders that racked your body shooting you towards consciousness in the wee hours of the dawn.

The reason had been your thermostat, a pricey one at that. Hoseok, your boyfriend had spent a pretty penny on it, installing it in your shared apartment. The thermostat was almost always set a little on the warmer side, both of you preferring to bask in the heat rather than shrivel in the cold.

The warmer temperature helped you when he wasn’t there. It kept the apartment toasty and your bed warm when your loving boyfriend wasn’t in bed to hold you against his chest.

So, when you had woken up to a blistering cold, rushing over your exposed skin, since you never bothered with a blanket thanks to the machine, you were pissed.

You’d spat out gentle expletives, ones a mother might use to admonish a bratty child and went to the hallway to see what it’s problem was.

To your shock and horror, it was dead.

It was dead and along with it were all the other electrical implements in your household. To a sleep lacked you, the world had selected you to solely survive an apocalypse. You had rushed out in your robe, worriedly wondering if you’ll be met with inhabitation.

Only, it wasn’t so bad. No, it was worse.

Your region of the city was experiencing a small blackout. All electric lines had been shut off to mend a huge grounding problem. It was going to take a whole day and you were stranded – not even Hoseok there with his cheerful balance to keep you from spiraling down.

You shuffled back into your living room, throwing on a huge blanket that trailed behind you to flop down on the couch. You thanked your good senses to purchase a cloth based one. You shuddered to think the torture a leather or plastic covered couch would release on your sensitive skin.

“This sucks.” You loudly complained to the empty home.

Without electricity, you would be getting no coffee, no hot shower, no entertainment; no nothing. Even your phone battery would die out soon and you wanted to keep it powered; until Hoseok was back at home at least.

It was his birthday after all, and happily the end of his tour. He’d be with you soon enough.

You carefully arranged yourself on the sofa, wondering what to do with yourself. You had done most of the grocery shopping yesterday, picking out ingredients for Hoseok’s favorite meal and snacks. You’d bought chicken – you sat up in a panic. It would go bad if power didn’t come back in the appointed time.

You hoped the fridge would be cold enough for one day.

It was the heat that would be the problem. You were already huddled, curling up against it but with little success.

You had barred and drawn curtains but the cold glass bled the outside chill into your spacious space and it was in times like these that you hoped for a smaller place, or someone to cuddle.

You would’ve taken Mickey, Hoseok’s sister…heck, even his mom but they were all back in his hometown. You were stuck in the city, the only ones to call up your work colleagues and maybe some Bighit employees you’d made friends with.

You refrained from calling any of the boys, not wanting them to be disrupted especially in the last leg of the tour.

Wrapping up tighter, you decided to make yourself useful for what would be a long day.

You dressed heavily, unable to shower and refusing the cold water to sin against you. Draped in layers and one of Hoseok’s beanies, you stepped out, the first orders of business to pump something like a gallon of hot coffee in you.

But of course, the region loosing electricity; caused most of the shops, cafes and restaurant to stay shut that used mainly powered equipment. You chose a small tea shop that offered stove brewed coffee and tea. You sat on the small pouf’s they offered, chatting up the pretty old lady who ran it, talking about how power was not the only thing that offered a good cup of hot beverage.

Sipping from their china, you had to agree.

You dropped papers off at your workplace, taking a small drive through near the riverside before returning to your apartment.

It wasn’t even midday.

Sighing as you shed off the many layers, you watched to see if you’d worked up a sweat or if the apartment had heated up a bit.

No such luck…

You dropped, still in the large sweatshirt and track combo that had once belonged to your boyfriend but no longer fit him due to working out and gaining muscles.

Huffing and grumbling, you yanked out the heavy weight blankets from the top shelf of your closet, dragging them to the large bed. You made your bed painstakingly, each shudder than went up your spine, rendering you further weak.

It was now you understood why SAD was a thing and why Hoseok was a necessity in the winters. Your sunshine always hung about during times like these. Maybe it was instinct.

Burying a snort delicately, you slipped under the mountain of sheets, snuggling in further into your now cozy bed, spreading your own warmth through the fabric and closed your eyes.

Sleep always solved everything.

When you woke up again, you were disoriented. The room had darkened from what you remembered and there was a distinct change in the atmosphere of the room itself.

You tried hard to pin it down; blindly wanting to put a finger on what was different when you smelt it.

A deep musk, sweet in its undertones as it swept up your nostrils. It was familiar, grounding. You took a deep breath, inhaling as much of the perfume as you could, let it seep you to awareness.

The next thing that registered was an extra weight, a presence that hadn’t been there before. You lay still in the cocoon you’d created, an arm draped around you and someone pressed tight against you, snuggled with you. A head lay buried in the crook of your neck, soft snores brushing your hair away. A wide chest warmed your back.

You let your eyes close back again in the embrace you’d missed so, so dearly. He was back. Hoseok was finally back home; and you were warm, safe in his arms and everything would be okay again.

You clutched the arm around your waist, holding it tight to your chest, palm against your heart. He felt warm and the smooth skin of his arm smelt a little like the aqua bubble soap you’d given him for his tour. The idea swelled in your heart.

You didn’t realize the way your soft moves jostled him, nudging him awake. Hoseok crept closer to you, instinctively placing a kiss on the top of your head. You hummed in the affection, reflecting the smile he pressed to your skin.

“Welcome back,” you whispered in the cozy space of the blankets.

“Mm,” he answered dreamily. “Was there a particular reason why you were in bed and asleep when I came home? Not that I’m complaining, I have to thank you. I fell asleep in a pinch.” He grated in a sleep lulled voice.

“We have a blackout; it was so cold; I couldn’t think of anything to do. Your thermostat failed in the face of no power.” You said.

“Ah,” Hoseok seemed more awake now, his hold tighter on you, lips placing absent minded kisses to the skin revealed to him. “I talked to management about that. They say it’ll be back by night.”

“What time is it now?”

“Evening around, I guess,” You both fell silent after that, content in enjoying the warmth of each other’s presence. There would be plenty of time to talk later.

Hoseok let his fingers explore, an unfailing habit. His hand splayed flat where you held it to your chest, the pads of his fingers brushing over your breasts, teasing over your nipples. At one point, this habit of his used to have you wild, intent on jumping him. Now, you had come to realize it wasn’t actually about teasing you or turning you on.

Hoseok was touchy after tours. He admitted to loving the feel of your skin under his after he’d been away from you, now a compulsion that tethered him to the fact that he was indeed home again and had you back in his arms.

It was comforting to him.

Of course, he would sometimes take a chance – steer the events of his handiness to a more indiscreet stream. You absolutely loved it when he did so.

Tonight, he definitely seemed to be in one of those moods.

His hand that usually was satisfied in tracing patterns on your stomach, abdomen, trailed back up to your chest grabbing on to a soft breast and kneading it. The slow, increase in his breath as he caught his fingers around a nipple, letting his thumb roughen it harshly through the material of the shirt was palpable.

“Hoseok,” you groaned, arcing up to push yourself further into his hands.

“Hmm, you feel so hot to touch.” He reasoned, apparently gotten his fill of your tits, drifting downwards again to play with the ties of the tracks.

You curled your hands around his bicep as it kept you trapped back against his chest. He pulled the ties loose, breath hot in your ear. You let your head fall back when he let his hand slip into your pants.

Wanton lips sought contact, connecting with the soft skin of your neck and shoulder, placing kisses on it. You bucked against the hand that stayed on the very edge of your mound, just shy out of touch. “Hobi, it’s cold.” You pouted.

“Let me warm you up then.” You didn’t have to look at him to know the grin that played on his face, knowing he had you where he wanted you.

You strained one last time, trying to see if Hoseok would break enough to give you what you wanted easily and get it done with, leaving you to enjoy the hot blankets and his cuddles. You could have sex later. Of course, he stayed just at the edge of you pleasure, a click of his tongue letting you know he was waiting for you to give in.

And you did; you slumped, loose and pliant in his hold. “Fine,” you whispered, much to his jubilation.

Hoseok became generous. His fingers, lodged in your tracks now pressed where you needed him most. A simple pressure on your clit had you moaning. He wedged his other hand under your body, curving it so he could push your shirt up, revealing your naked chest. He palmed one breast; kneading it in the same pace he rubbed your clit – slow and maddening.

You bucked against him yet again, trying to physically force his fingers into you.

“Is that what you want, baby? You want my fingers?” He asked, muttering low to you and you nodded desperately, trying to control the near panicked whimpers.

Hoseok had been gone for months and while you absolutely loved the self love, the sexting, the photos he sent of him barely dressed in his dressing room or in the bath, the Skype calls where he greeted you wearing nothing, already hard and leaking; this was the best sensation. Having Hoseok pressed up against you, skin to skin and slick as he moved in you, over you, against you, it drove you to his altar mad with just a taste.

So, when he let his middle and ring finger slip deep in you, already coating thickly in your slick, he nearly had you sobbing from the feeling.

It felt amazing, the stretch, but both of you knew what was dearly needed. While you adored his fingers in you, heel of his palm rubbing harshly into your clit, you needed to be stuffed of his cock. That was the only way anyone was getting satiated.

“Babe, I need you to come for me first. It’s been a while; I need to stretch you out.” Hoseok said urgently, panting against you as he increased his pace. You continued to whine, feeling him pull you nearly on top of him to push another finger you, the first three digits he had inside you curling expertly into your sweet spot.

He thrust up against your ass, grunting as he found friction to relieve himself as well. You sat up straighter, back to him as you grinded down harder on the bulge of his cock, dry humping him while he kept you full.

The orgasm that swept through you was so fast; you nearly crashed on top of his face. Writhing in his hold, Hoseok pushed you further up, sitting up.

The blankets fell away from your bodies, the cool air pleasant on your sweaty bodies. Hoseok was quick to lose your tops, hands fumbling with his jeans as you pulled away your tracks, throwing them away somewhere in the darkness of your room.

There was a brief lull, in which Hoseok and you took a moment to look at each other properly. You were naked now; Hoseok’s undergarments pulled down till his knees. It was too dark to make out much but the light that flooded in through the windows from outside, was enough to tell that Hoseok’s dark piercing gaze was intent on you.

You could feel you were flushed head to toe, excited to have your lover near you and pleasing you again.

For the first time ever since you’d started the passionate bout of reunion love making, you kissed him, soft and heady. Hoseok’s groan at the feel of your lips against his made you grunt, grinning at the effect you still had on him.

He wrapped an arm around you, raising you so he could line his cock with you, still kissing you as if he never wanted to stop.

You sunk on him, delicious, halting and full. Hoseok didn’t take his mouth from yours, only letting his jaw slacken at the feel of your wetness seeping around him.

As for you, Hoseok’s hands gripping on to your hips hard enough to bruise, rocking you on him was enough to make you choke on your sobs of pleasure.

“Baby,” Hoseok mumbled, holding you up so he could thrust up in you. You grabbed on to the headboard, Hoseok slouching into the pillows, bracing his feet so he could bounce you on him.

“You like that, sweetheart? This is what you wanted, remember? You told me just a few days ago how you wanted to be stuffed full of my cock.” He gave a particularly hard thrust, gritting his teeth.

You nodded, remembering the exact scenario. He’s been in the bathroom with the water running, calling you for an update and you had given him one of your starved sex lives; he was just making good on his promises.

“Please, please,” you chanted, feeling him bump in your walls just shy of your spot, keeping you on the edge till he was reaching for your clit, fingers wet from his saliva and punishing against the nub.

You cried out his name for everyone in the building to hear, tight, hot walls convulsing around his length, his own loud moans of your name indicating his follow into his own release. Hot cum spurted into you, coating your walls and dripping down your thighs. He pulled out, the rest of it splattering his stomach.

You collapsed against him, forehead pressed to his and breaths intermingling, fast, sated…for now.

“Happy Birthday,” You mumbled to the smirking man under you.

[lover-of-skellies]

Door 3

You swallowed back your feelings of uncertainty, carefully approaching the door that had gained your attention. You knocked, then waited for a response, only to receive none. As bad as you felt for invading the riders' privacy like this, your curiosity propelled you forward anyway, and soon enough, you found your hand grasping the knob. Giving a gentle twist and nudging the door open just enough to peek inside, you called out, announcing your presence and asking for permission to come in. Once again though, there was none.

Your shoulders sank a bit in defeat and you furrowed your brows; you'd come all this way, your curiosity and determination to get to know each of the riders driving you. Chewing on your bottom lip, you silently contemplated your options for a moment, deciding against simply walking away. You were going to enter anyway, and you were going to look around. As long as you weren't digging through the dresser or rifling through papers, you'd be forgiven... right?

[You selected: Door 3]

Now entering: Pestilence's room

~~~

Carefully pushing the door open and inviting yourself inside, you paused to flick on the overhead light before nudging the door shut behind yourself again. Glancing around the room, you arched a brow, taking in your new surroundings; the bed, as you'd been expecting, wasn't made. The sheets and blankets were pushed down toward the end of the bed and bunched up, and the small stack of pillows even laid carelessly strewn about.

Approaching the bed, your eyes settled on a small picture frame that occupied the bedside table. Delicately picking the item up, you furrowed your brows and frowned; in the photo was a set of brothers. One was tall and lanky, sporting a brilliant crimson scarf and a bright smile, while the other was short and appeared to be a bit rounder. He was clad in a pair of untied tennis shoes, basketball shorts, and a baggy hoodie, all worn beneath a long, oversized lab coat. A pair of large and thin glasses with circular frames were taped onto his skull and his grin was more lazy, almost making him appear tired.

The top drawer of his bedside table was open the smallest bit, and gripped by curiosity, you set down the picture of the brothers in favor of tugging open the drawer. Neatly folded and tucked inside was a bundle of red fabric, which was nearly identical to the shade of the taller brother's scarf that you'd seen in the photo. Reaching out, you gently traced your fingers over it, taking in how soft it felt. As you pulled your hand away, however, you became aware of the dust that now clung to your skin. Knowing the significance of dust, your eyes widened and you hurriedly pushed the drawer shut, attempting to brush the dust off of your hand.

Feeling satisfied after a moment and taking a few seconds to calm yourself, you let out a deep breath, glancing around the room again. Clothes had been scattered across his floor, and you were unsure if they were supposed to be clean or dirty. Not wanting to touch the potentially dirty clothes, you stepped around them, crossing the room to look at some books that lined a shelf.

The books were sparse and some laid on their sides, but from the looks of it, they were mostly joke books, books on a variety of science stuff, and books filled with puzzles and word games. You didn't take Pestilence as the type who liked reading, so finding a collection of books in his room was a bit of a surprise.

On the floor next to the bookshelf was a chest, and you tilted your head, squatting and leaning closer to get a better look at it. There was a series of locks lining the front, meaning you wouldn't be able to see what it contained. Damnit. The curiosity would eat you alive, and you already knew it.

Standing again, you approached the rider's desk. A small lamp occupied the corner, and a decent amount of papers, pencils, and pens laid scattered across the surface. A ruler and eraser also laid atop the desk, over top the corners of what looked like a blueprint for some sort of device. Your eyebrows became knit in confusion; just what was the device? What was it supposed to do?

On an attached shelf was a thick, heavy looking book. Humming softly, you gingerly lifted it, lying it on the desk and flipping to a random page, finding numerous pictures filling plastic sleeves. The first one to catch your attention was of a skeleton in thick, bulky sunglasses. He wore a large, goofy grin, showing off a single gold tooth while his arm was around the shoulders of a rather... irritated water elemental. On the next page was a photo of a purple clad skeleton with heart shaped eye lights, his arms around another skeleton who was covered in errors and glitches, a scowl fixed on his face. You flipped several pages ahead, stopping as a picture of a pair of humans appeared.

There was a girl with medium length, bright blue hair. Her wide grey eyes were lined with dark makeup and her rather pale face was flushed pink as a boy standing beside her pressed a kiss to her cheek. The boy had a tanned complexion, his face also flushed. A pair of large, square glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, and his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, messy dark hair curling in every direction atop his head. They were cute together, but you weren't sure you knew who they were.

A rat scurried past you and squeaked, and you jumped, your entire body jolting in surprise. Processing that it was only a rat, you let out a deep sigh, trying to calm your racing your. It was just a rat. Nothing to be worried about. It's not like Pest was back already-

From behind you, someone cleared their throat, and you mentally cursed at yourself. Slowly withdrawing your hand from the photo album, you reluctantly turned to face its owner, who stared at you with a raised brow bone and a hand on his hip. He tilted his head, his tone completely even and calm, "So. Is there any particular reason why you're in my room, going through my old pictures?"

You began attempting to explain what was going on, telling the skeleton that you'd come here because you were curious about him and only wanted to learn about him more. That you'd come such a long way and didn't think you could simply leave when you found the room empty.

His gaze was locked on you as he slowly nodded, processing what he'd been told, "So let me get this straight... You let yourself in and started rifling through my stuff, because you wanted to get to know me better?" Fully aware of how bad that sounded, you made a sound of confirmation, practically radiating guilt as you admitted that you should've just gone away and come back some other time. He hummed in agreement, "Yeah, you should've. It's awfully rude of you to go invading people's privacy like this. Makes me almost kinda wanna go to your house and go through everything in your room, just so you can see how uncool it is."

You hung your head in shame, silent for a moment before you all but hurled yourself in his direction, wrapping your arms around him. Pulling him into a tight hug, you began to apologize profusely, and working past his momentary shock, he sighed, awkwardly returning the hug and patting your back, "Hey, hey, dude, cut it out. I don't appreciate the invasion of privacy, but I'm not gonna strike you dead or anything. Just... this is a warning, I guess. All I ask is that you don't do this again."

You agreed not to let yourself into his room again without permission and he pulled away from the hug, reaching up into his other sleeve to dig into a pouch, withdrawing a vial of the antidote to his touch. He offered it to you and you eagerly accepted it, quickly uncapping the vial and gulping down the bittersweet contents. Returning the empty vial, you thanked him, and then turned to begin walking toward the door.

You briefly paused, your hand curling around the knob as you turned to glance at him, saying your goodbyes. Having already removed his sash and belt, he tugged his hoodie off, a bulky, beaded necklace around his neck. In its design, you wondered if the necklace was made by a child. Pestilence made a soft sound of acknowledgement, returning the goodbyes.

Tugging the door open and exiting the room, you gently shut the door behind yourself. You hadn't expected him to show up so suddenly, and when he had, you thought he would've infected you on the spot as punishment of some sort. The fact that he kept his distance and then even gave you an antidote was mildly surprising, and you made a mental note to thank him again later.

[taste-in-music]

taste-in-music’s Year End Wrap-Up

Hello everybody! We’ve finally reached the end of 2020. While I’m glad to leave this miserable year behind, one of things that undeniably got me through it was the vast amount of awesome music we got. In past years I’ve made favorite album and EP lists, but this time around I’m going to tackle them all in one go, giving reviews on the projects that had some significances to me over the course of the year. I’m going to make a post for my favorite songs too, so keep an eye out for that in coming days. Now, without further ado, let’s get started, shall we?

folklore by Taylor Swift: This was an incredible year of growth for Taylor Swift. As much as I’ve enjoyed her past music, the way she constantly felt the need to address what people thought of her always irked me, (though after watching her documentary, I do understand why she did it.) It wasn’t Taylor Swift the public persona that was most interesting, I thought. It was Taylor Swift the artist, the songwriter, the storyteller. What I wanted was an album focused on that. This year, I got one, (well... more on that later,) and it’s my favorite project she’s ever done. The tales Swift spins on folklore span across love triangles, heiresses, and battlefields, and she nails each and every one. While the chilly indie-folk influence from the likes of Aaron Dessner and Justin Vernon is prominent, Swift’s warmth and charisma always cuts through the fog like a beam of sunlight. So yeah, this is my undeniable album of the year.

Fetch The Bolt Cutters by Fiona Apple: I only started listening to Fiona Apple last year and had thoroughly enjoyed her music, but this album cemented her as one of my favorite songwriters and performers of all time. Everything about Fetch The Bolt Cutters is so idiosyncratic yet fits together in just the right way, like watching an entire house being dropped from the sky and falling perfectly into place. It is a testament to the creative process, emotional honesty, and breaking free from all the cages you may find yourself in, whether they be societal, personal, or those of your own making. And in a year that was so isolating, it felt like Apple was whispering everything I needed to hear right into my ear, just when I needed it. In short, my boltcutters have been motherfucking fetched. 

Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers: When Punisher was announced, I had no clue how Phoebe Bridgers would match the quality of Stranger In The Alps. Upon first listen, I wasn’t sure she had. By the fifteenth time I was listening to this album and every lyric was hitting like Cupid’s arrow to the jugular, I knew she’d surpassed it. Punisher presents a sonic scope that both comforts and crushes all at once, like with the upbeat yet mournful horns on “Kyoto” or the cathartic swell on standout “I Know The End.” In my opinion, Bridgers is one of the greatest songwriters of our generation in the making, and I can’t wait to see what the future brings for her. She may know the end, but she’s far from it. 

SAWAYAMA by Rina Sawayama: This is the album I see becoming a new shorthand for the true potential of pop excellence, a cult hit that never got its time to shine but is beloved by pop music geeks to the ends of the earth, like EMOTION by Carly Rae Jepsen. SAWAYAMA so effortlessly blends diverse genres and influences like disco, nu metal, and arena rock, and it yet it remains cohesive due to Rina Sawayama’s sheer strength as a performer. She deserves a spot on the pop girlie hierarchy, and one near the top. 

Future Nostalgia by Dua Lipa: I really enjoyed Dua Lipa’s debut album, but even I didn’t expect her to come through with such a fully realized, consistent, downright fantastic follow up. Future Nostalgia is a pop album that feels studied, like Lipa did her research of pop’s past as she made it. The result is an album that synthesizes several different sounds under her vision, one that is always trained ahead, and it simply slaps. In a perfect world, nearly every song on this album got spun off into a hit single. 

evermore by Taylor Swift: 2020 was already my year of listening to Taylor Swift, (I went through her whole discography, cultivated a favorites playlist, and at the end of the year I was in the top 2% of her yearly Spotify listeners.) evermore was a lovely cherry to top it all off. While folklore enchanted me with its stories, evermore captivated me with its melodies. I haven’t been able to get snippets of this album out. of. my. head. for weeks now. It’s a bit less consistent than it’s older sister, (and likely to live in its shadow,) but there is still so much to love. 

I’m Allergic to Dogs! by Remi Wolf: This EP is so much goddamn fun. It’s a blend of many different sounds, indie pop, electronic, maybe hip hop, I think reggae at points? It’s such a colorful, textured, quirky listen bristling with energy and undeniable hooks. “Woo!” conquered my Summer, and months later the bridge of “Photo ID” conquered TikTok. Keep your eye out for Remi Wolf in the coming year, she’s going to make a big splash. 

Good At Being Young by Charli Adams: Good At Being Young was the first EP this year that I could not get enough of. It drifts through dreamy indie-pop sounds, with melancholic guitars and cloudy synths, and Adams has a deep vocal timbre that delivers tales of adolescent tribulations with just the right amount of wistfulness. Overall, it builds the perfect soundscape for a late-night drive.

Cape God by Allie X: Allie X has been keeping us FED with content. It seems like only yesterday that Super Sunset came out, and yet her output remains impressively consistent. This album has impressive highs, some lower moments, but the danceability, duets, and enticing darkness under its shiny pop veneer make it a record you won’t want to skip. 

La vita nuova by Christine and The Queens: Perhaps the biggest flex of 2020 was Christine and The Queens dropping a fantastic EP and accompanying short film right out of the gate. The grooves on this are infectious, wiry, and air-tight, (the Caroline Polachek feature was another added bonus,) but that doesn’t mean there isn’t plenty of emotional weight too. 

Lighter by Donna Missal: This was one of my most anticipated albums of the year, and it’s hard to determine whether it disappointed or not. I think the only thing holding Lighter back is that This Time was such a formative album for me, (my favorite of 2018, to the uninitiated.) In fact, this album flows way better than This Time, more cohesive with its storytelling and more consistent in folk-rock sound. And, of course, Donna Missal’s vocals stun on both the bangers and the ballads. 

SURF by BLACKSTARKIDS: There was no record this year that was more instantly likeable than this one. The blend of low-fi indie pop and hip hop makes for a whirlwind of sunny fun and youthful malaise that would make the perfect soundtrack for a road trip to the beach. Standouts include the opening track “SOUNDS LIKE FUN,” the chill “WIGS,” and blissful title track “MUSIC TO SURF TO.”

The Baby by Samia: I’ve had my eye on Samia since “Milk” dropped years ago. Seeing her live sparked my belief that she was an indie darling in the making, and The Baby confirmed that she definitely was. The lyrics on this album mix quiet contemplation with just enough sardonic wit and raw emotion throughout a varied selection of sunny rock bops and gut wrenching ballads. If you enjoyed Punisher, then I can’t recommend this enough.

Season 2 by Nasty Cherry: Nasty Cherry is a group that I will not stop rooting for. Their EP from last year showed their potential for nailing monster hooks, but this sophomore effort shows just how versatile they can be. This EP covers everything from Dylan Brady produced hyperpop to early-2000s reminiscent pop rock to emotional balladry, and they pull it all off flawlessly. 

A Little Rhythm and a Wicked Feeling by Magdalena Bay: This album became a fast favorite way late in the year, there is such a sweetness to Magdalena Bay’s music that makes it stick in your brain like a piece of blue raspberry bubblegum. This EP is spacey, catchy, and filled with electronic synthpop mastery, with countless catchy hooks that’ll make you feel like drifting and dancing all at once.

Miss Anthropocene by Grimes: The bubblegum bombast of Art Angels fully redefined my taste in pop years ago, so I was fascinated to see how Grimes would follow it up. On Miss Anthropocene, she leans into darker, more industrial textures, but also anchors it back to Earth with acoustic touches and some of her most introspective lyrics to date. Grimes painted a version of a world on the brink of disaster on this album, a picture that was hypnotically beautiful. And in a year where the word was a certified disaster, that was strangely comforting.

Plastic Hearts by Miley Cyrus: I’ve been wanting Miley to go rock for so goddamn long, Plastic Hearts was bound to make this list by pure validation alone. But what can I say? This breed of glossy 80s rock suits Cyrus’s rougher voice so well! I hope she stays in this lane a bit longer, but as we know, she’s one of pop’s most chameleonic figures. Only time will tell. 

Where Does The Devil Hide by Zella Day: I have been patiently awaiting new Zella Day music ever since getting hooked on Kicker back in 2017, so this was one of my most anticipated releases of the year. This EP sounds nothing like Kicker, and I couldn’t be happier. It shows Day leaning even more into her influences from the past, (the 60s/70s vibes are intense with this one,) but also breathing a refreshing new life into them. 

SOUL LADY by Yukika: When I imagine the ideal of pop music, what it would sound like in a perfect world, this is what it sounds like. SOUL LADY is full of pristine, glossy production and catchy hooks that feel like they’ve come down from the clouds. I’ll admit that I can have trouble forming a connection with music when I don’t understand the lyrics, (it’s something I’m working on,) but this album cleared that hurdle with ease. If you’re curious about city pop or K-pop this is a great place to start. 

Heaven Is Without You by Love You Later: Give me lush pop production and heartbroken lyrics finished off with a heaping helping of nostalgia and I’ll eat it up with a spoon. Love You Later has been feeding my addiction to this genre for years, and this latest helping is particularly sweet. 

IN A DREAM by Troye Sivan: Troye Sivan has always supplied the bops, but it was about time that he started experimenting with his sound a little bit more. This EP offers some harder-hitting electronic textures, but also the addictive hooks that’ll keep you coming back for more.

Ungodly Hour by Chloe X Halle: These women are so TALENTED! If there is any word I’d use to describe this album it would be “effortless,” the harmonies, grooves, and chemistry between Chloe and Halle feels so natural and free-flowing. Charisma just rolls off of them in droves, I see full-blown stardom and several Grammys in their future.

Watching You by Robinson: This EP was one of the first on this list to arrive this year, and it still hits months later. Robinson’s confessional lyrics work wonders over the buoyant pop grooves, and “Don’t Say” remains one of the best pop songs of recent years. 

Manic by Halsey: I respect Halsey for dipping her toes into a myriad of different genres, (synth pop, rock, hip hop, and acoustic balladry,) but it does make for a jumbled listening experience. Still, I appreciate that this album features some of Halsey’s strongest tracks and writing to date, offering greater experimentation and emotional imtimacy than album’s past. 

We Don’t Stop by Aly & AJ: Should this count? It’s more a compilation of their past EP and singles... I don’t care, I’m counting it because there’s some new stuff too. This is an excellent display of Aly & AJ’s pop prowess in recent years, the hooks, vocal chemistry, and shimmery production are undeniable. 

Under My Influence by The Aces: The Aces returned in 2020 with a more laid-back, groovier record than their debut, exploring a wider variety of sounds. They’re as magnetic and likeable a group as ever, each member giving it their all, but I think I’ll return to the debut more often. 

Strangers/Lovers by Dagny: I’ve been anticipating a longer Dagny project, as she’s been drip-feeding us singles for a while now. This was a lot of fun, with Dagny pairing her upbeat earnestness with stories of romantic tribulation. While the hooks aren’t as memorable as her past offerings, there is still so much to enjoy. Lead single “Come Over” and “Let Me Cry” are my favorites.

DUALITY by Tatiana Hazel: I came across this via recommendation on Tik Tok and it’s a solid pop record! The music is swooning, synthy, and tinged with disco and Latin influence. The record doesn’t waste a second of its runtime, clocking in at less than half an hour and grooving the whole time.

After Hours by The Weeknd: The sonic palette of After Hours is so engaging, a neon-drenched blend of synthwave, electropop, and R&B. I’ve always felt lukewarm on The Weeknd’s musical persona of brooding, villainous party monster, so the strongest moments on this album tend to be when he subverts that in some way. Still, in full, this album is an undeniable force of smash hits, stadium-shaking ballads, and cinematic flair. I can’t wait for his Super Bowl performance. 

Petrol Bloom by LAUREL: It’s no secret that this year was chock-full of 80s revival albums (there’s what, five others on this list?) LAUREL wasn’t an artist I was expecting to go in that direction after the brooding folk pop of her debut album, but her deeper timbre works great alongside the synthy soundscapes. 

positions by Ariana Grande: I’ve just come to expect that nearly all of Ariana Grande’s albums are going to be growers to me. My first listen to positions was underwhelming, but the songs have grown on me more and more. This album feels like being let in on a giggly, fun slumber party with Grande and her friends. I wouldn’t call this her strongest album by far, and while I tend to prefer when she favors the more powerful parts of her range, (and her enunciations could still use some work,) there is a lot of good material here. 

THE ALBUM by BLACKPINK: We may just have to stan. I checked this out after watching their Netflix documentary, and while this breed of cacophonous, in-your-face electropop isn’t something I can listen to all the time, the hooks and charisma are undeniable. It certainly makes me feel like a bad bitch whenever I’m working out. 

Kid Krow by Conan Gray: Conan Gray burst onto my radar offering dreamy tracks rich with teen malaise and suburban restlessness, and a good amount of that initial appeal carries over onto this album. Kid Krow has both a larger instrumental scope and more stripped-back moments. In the end, it still feels like Gray is finding his voice as an artist, but he's giving up great bops to jam out to as he does.

Petals For Armor by Hayley Williams: Hayley Williams is one of my favorite vocalists, so seeing her venture out for a solo project was exciting. This album offers a mixed bag of danceable jams, emotive moments that showcase Williams’s powerful voice, and a few skips. But overall it showcases Williams’s strength as a performer as she tackles her past with vulnerability and versatility.

Apart by LÉON: Oh, man. This one was kind of disappointing. For context, LÉON’s self-titled debut was my favorite album of last year. This follow-up is by no means bad, but every song on her first album was instantly memorable. This one, not so much. LÉON’s vocals are beautiful, and there are some stand-out tracks, but I don’t see myself returning to this nearly as much. 

Blush by Maya Hawke: Maya Hawke’s Blush was to my 2020 what Tōth’s Practice Magic and Seek Professional Help When Necessary was to my 2019, (and that makes sense, as they’ve collaborated in the past.) This album is so blissful and nonchalant, and Maya Hawke has a gentle, soothing voice that feels wise beyond her years. While the writing isn’t as hard-hitting as, say, the Phoebe Bridgers album, sometimes I just want to listen to something that could rock me off into a dream world. If you like folksy, down-to-earth ballads, you’ve got a solid collection of them right here. 

Dedicated Side B by Carly Rae Jepsen: Of course Queen Carly would pull through with B-sides for Dedicated, did we expect anything less? Jepsen’s brand of controlled yet carefree shimmery poptimism drenched in 80s nostalgia that never fails to put me in a good mood. This album has some lusher, more tropical instrumentation than Dedicated proper, but works great alongside it.

Missing Person by Kelsy Karter: To the Plastic Hearts fans out there, your homework now is to give this record a listen. This rock album presents pop hooks, but a lot of reckless rock fun too. Kelsy Karter has so much irresistible swagger and carefree spirit as a performer, speeding through the emotional highs and lows like she’s burning rubber in a cherry red Cadillac. 

how i’m feeling now by Charli XCX: I’ll admit, this album was a bit abrasive to me on first listen. But tracks like “anthems” and “forever” made me return, and it’s a huge grower. If you listen closely, you’ll find the sugary-sweet hooks and relatable sentiments nestled deep in the crunchy hyperpop textures, begging to be discovered and eventually loved. 

Jaguar by Victoria Monét: If you enjoyed positions, then check out the debut from one of that album’s most prominent co-writers. Jaguar’s concise collection of silky R&B slow-burners show that Victoria Monet’s is a superstar in her own right. 

Some great albums I listened to that didn’t come out this year: Blue by Joni Mitchell, BLACKPINK IN YOUR AREA by BLACKPINK, I Need to Start a Garden by Haley Heynderickx, Plastic Beach by Gorillaz, Out in the Storm by Waxahatchee, 7 by Beach House, Dummy by Portishead, Lovers Fevers by Babygirl, and Red by Taylor Swift. 

Whether you liked, reblogged, or commented on a post, sent me an ask, or interacted with this blog in any way, thank you so much for all the support throughout the year! I can’t express how much I appreciate it. 

What were your favorite albums from this year? Did I miss anything? Send me an ask and let me know. I’ll tell you my thoughts, or put it on my to-listen-to list if I haven’t heard it. 

Here’s to 2021! May it clear the extremely low bar set by this year. 

[let-it-raines]

based on the prompt: “when I was five, I was hunting shark teeth on Miami Beach and just kept finding tooth after tooth with my little plastic sleuce. I was so proud of my collection. Only 20 years later did I find out that my mom’s boyfriend had bought a bag of shark teeth at the gift shop and scattered them around while I was distracted.”

@shireness-says​ is the queen of finding posts and then having me write words based off of them, even more so if I can somehow make those words involve some captain cobra and then, of course, my favorite thing: all of the banter and romance ❤️

This little thing is also fully my way to give a little bit of happiness since I know 70% of you are mad at me for the last few chapters of What a Wicked Game . it gets better very soon.

found on ao3 | here | ; rating: for everyone ; ~4400 words

-/-

Emma’s forgetting something.

She knows that she is. She’s practically always forgetting something, and since she’s making the effort to drive across town to the beach with Henry, she just knows that there’s something that she’s going to forget. Then she’ll have to go into one of those tourist shops and spend fifty bucks on the smallest bottle of sunscreen known to mankind all because she forgot the sunscreen.

Did she pack the sunscreen?

She had to have done that. That was in the top five things she needed to pack.

Towels, extra clothes, food, water, sunscreen.

And then beach toys, medicine, a comb, band-aids for when Henry inevitably figures out a way to get a cut…oh, an umbrella. She needs an umbrella.

Wait, Killian was in charge of getting that, wasn’t he?

Shit. She doesn’t remember what exactly she told Killian to bring, and she definitely should have paid more attention to that.

She has to be more put together than this, doesn’t she? She usually is, she swears, but this whole Henry spending the day with Killian is freaking her out more than it should. They’ve met, several times actually, and it’s always gone well. Henry’s six. He doesn’t really get the whole concept of his mom dating someone because he’s never really seen it before. There was almost that time with Walsh, but Emma chickened out at the last minute. Then Walsh got pissed that she wouldn’t let him meet her kid, like she owed him something, and that was the end of that.

But they’ve met. It went well.

Why is she freaking out?

“Because you really like him, you idiot,” she whispers to herself, which kind of makes her even more of an idiot.

That’s all just par for the course right now.

“Who are you talking to?” Henry asks as he walks into the kitchen. The kid is wearing a pair of jeans, no shirt, one sock, and a hat that she knows isn’t hers and is far too big for his head.

“No one,” Emma tells him. “What are you wearing, kid?”

“You told me to get dressed for the beach.”

“Why do you think jeans are what you’re supposed to wear to the beach? Is that what you wear to the pool?”

“No, but the beach has sand.”

“So you have to wear jeans?”

“Yep.” He climbs up onto the kitchen stool and sits down, wide, toothy grin on his face. “So, can we go? I packed all of my toys.”

What an adorable kid. How did she get so lucky for him to be hers?

…wait. All of his toys?

“Henry Swan,” Emma sighs, “go to your room and put every toy that is not allowed in the shower back, and take those jeans off and put on your swimsuit with the anchors on it. Also, ditch the socks.”

“Do I have to?”

“Unless you want to smell like a wet dog, yes.”

“I like dogs.”

Emma huffs and shakes her before pointing her finger down the hall. “Go. We’ve still got to make our sandwiches.”

Henry grumbles something that she probably doesn’t want to hear, but then he’s climbing down off the stool and walking down the hallway. She has no faith in him to actually manage to put on the right clothes and not bring everything he owns, but she’ll let that be the last thing she does so that way he doesn’t manage to change everything up before they leave.

There’s a knock on the apartment door, and Emma glances toward it, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

This is not a big deal, she reminds herself. This is not a big deal at all.

Swallowing her nerves, she puts down the knife she was going to use to cut bread up and heads toward the door. Emma takes a deep breath, her stomach fluttering, but that’s not unfamiliar as of late. It’s aching familiar, actually, and she’s not sure if she loves it or hates it.

Hates it because she’s not that kind of girl.

Loves it because maybe she wants to be.

“Hey,” she says in greeting as she opens the door to Killian.

He, unlike Henry, was able to dress himself in a pair of black trunks that are maybe a little too tight on his thighs for public and a gray t-shirt, baseball cap that actually fits his head pulled down low so that she can’t see the wisps of long hair that usually fall on his forehead. When they met, he had short hair that was nearly cropped to his scalp, but now that he’s retired from the Navy, he’s letting it grow out. She likes it. It falls off his forehead and over the nape of his neck in a slight wave, but she does kind of miss when it was short but long enough for him to style with gel. It’d all come undone when she’d run her hands through it, and she has this vivid memory of one piece falling on his forehead and making him look so young that she could scarcely believe it.

“Hello, love,” he greets before dipping his head down and pressing his lips against hers. It’s dirty but surprisingly quick, and she knows that’s just because he’s aware that Henry is around. When she meets him at his place, he kisses her differently, and really, she shouldn’t be noticing these things and categorizing them into her little boxes. “Am I allowed to say that I am very interested in what you have underneath this shirt of yours or are there young ears listening?”

Emma rolls her eyes and presses up on her toes to kiss him again, much slower this time so she can savor the hint of coffee on his lips. “He’s getting dressed again.”

“Again?”

“He was wearing jeans, no shirt, and a hat that I think must be yours.”

“Was it a Pirates cap?”

“It was.”

“Damn, I knew I’d left that somewhere.”

Emma chuckles and backs away from him, trailing her hand down his arm. “You’re not even from Pittsburg. Why are you a Pirates fan?”

“Because my best mate was when we were kids, and it stuck.”

“And your loyalties are too deep now?”

“Absolutely.” Killian closes the door behind him and saunters – and she’s not exaggerating when she uses that word – over to her small kitchen and picks up the knife she was using. “Do you need help making lunch?”

“No, I can do it.”

“Turkey, lettuce, cheese for the boy,” Killian hums as he starts placing slices of turkey on a piece of bread, “and no crust, aye? You want the same thing but with tomatoes, and do you want any condiments? I don’t think they’ll travel well. Maybe we can bring them separately.”

“Killian, seriously. I can make us lunch.”

“No, no, I’ve got it.” He waves her away with a flash of his teeth. “Go see if Henry needs help getting dressed. I feel like he should be finished by now.”

“I’m sure he’s destroying his room.”

Killian winks. “That’s why you need to go and check, Swan.”

Henry isn’t destroying his room, surprisingly. He’s dressed in exactly what he’s supposed to be dressed in, and he’s sitting on the floor surrounded by all of his toys that he must have emptied out of his bag. Emma walks into his room and settles down beside him. “What are we thinking about, kid?”

“If I want to find buried treasure, I need one of those coin things.”

“Coin things?”

“Yeah, those things that Mrs. Klein uses to look for coins and it makes all that noise like when you set food on fire.”

Emma laughs and pushes her shoulder into Henry. “A metal detector?”

“Yeah!” he says excitedly, “but all I have are my shovels, and how am I supposed to find shark teeth with those?”

“Wait. I thought we were looking for buried treasure. When did we switch to shark teeth?”

“Avery found a shark tooth, and I want one.”

She sighs and nods before leaning forward and grabbing Henry’s plastic shovels and sandcastle molds and putting them in his bag. “You know, Killian used to look for hidden things with his job.” It’s only a half truth, but Henry doesn’t need to know the intricacies. “I bet he’d be really good at looking for buried treasure and shark teeth with you.”

“Why can’t you help?”

“Oh, I can, kid. I just thought maybe you’d like Killian to help you.”

He shrugs and then wraps his arms around Emma’s middle, squeezing her so tightly she’s not sure if her ribs are still in place. “I want you.”

“Of course,” she whispers, brushing her hand over Henry’s back before kissing his forehead. She doesn’t know what just came over him, but she doesn’t like it. She also has no idea how she’s supposed to be approaching this. “Henry, do you not want Killian to come with us today?”

He shakes his head into her stomach. “I don’t like it when you kiss him.”

Emma has to bite her tongue to keep from laughing.

Okay, maybe this isn’t as bad as she thought it was going to be.

Shit could still hit the fan, but that’s one crisis averted.

“If I promise not to let him kiss me, can he come with us to the beach?”

“You promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

Emma nudges Henry off of her and holds out his pinky. He wraps his own smaller one around it, and she has a vivid flashback of his tiny hand grabbing onto her pinky right after he was born. It’s a reflex. She’s fully aware of that, but it’s also what made her decide to keep him instead of put him up for adoption.

Pinky promises are a big deal.

“Pinky promise I won’t kiss Killian.” He smiles, and Emma takes the opportunity to lean forward and press her lips against Henry’s cheek once, twice, three times. She keeps kissing him as he giggles and squirms and falls back. “But I never promised not to kiss you.”

“M-mom,” he laughs, “s-stop.”

“Nope, not gonna stop.”

“You have cooties.”

“No such thing, kid,” she mumbles before finally pulling back. Henry’s cheeks are flushed red, and she lets out a contented sigh. He’s happy and healthy. That’s all that matters. “Now, come on, the beach is waiting for us.”

-/-

Emma can’t find the sunscreen.

Like, she legitimately cannot find it, and she knows that she packed it. She freaking triple-checked, had Killian check, and it’s nowhere to be found in her bag or in the bug. Now she has to spend a ridiculous amount of money on a brand she probably won’t even like.

“I’ll go, love,” Killian tells her when he finishes setting up the big umbrella they’ve got stationed in the sand. “You stay with the lad and help him build the sand fortress he’s already started on. Do we need anything else?”

“I’ll text you if I think of anything.”

He salutes and then leans down, and Emma has to swerve away at the last minute as Henry gives them some kind of side-eye that she knows he got from her.

“Something the matter, Swan?”

She tilts her head to the side and then gets up off her towel, grabbing Killian’s hand and tugging him a few feet away from Henry. He looks highly amused, eyebrows raised to his hairline, and she just knows he’s going to love this.

“You can’t kiss me today.”

His eyebrows somehow go higher. “What now?”

“Henry is upset about us kissing, and I pinky promised that we wouldn’t.”

She hears a small laugh, and he’s trying to keep a straight face. She can tell. But the corners of his lips are poking up, and she knows he can’t resist it.

“A pinky promise, huh?”

“It’s the most serious of promises.”

Killian reaches his hand forward, holding out his pinky. She takes it and wonders how every part of him is so impossibly warm. “I pinky promise that you will not kiss me today.”

“Killian.”

“What?”

“I see your loophole, and that is not going to fly.”

“I won’t kiss you, darling,” he whispers, leaning in so close that she thinks he just might be cocky enough to do it. “That’s a pinky promise.”

And then he’s pulling away and walking up toward the overpriced beach shack that must make a killing here every day for the amount of people that are always flocking to the beach. At least it’s kind of quiet today, but it’s still early enough that most people won’t be here for a few hours.

“Alright, kid,” Emma sighs, “let’s build a sandcastle.”

-/-

Emma has a thing about being in the ocean.

She knows how to swim. There was a foster parent who was a swimming coach at the local high school, and she made sure all of the kids knew how. The thing is that she also let them all watch Jaws, and while logically Emma knows the likelihood of her getting eaten by a shark is low, she’s not really fond of going into any kind of water that isn’t extremely clear.

The beaches of Storybrooke are not so clear that she can see the ground, so she’s definitely staying just at the edge where the waves crest and wash over her feet. Killian and Henry, however, are chest deep, and Emma’s not nervous watching them.

Nope.

Not at all.

“Swan,” Killian calls out, “you chase bad guys for a living. The ocean isn’t going to bring you down.”

“The bad guys stay above water.”

“Mom,” Henry whines, “come on!”

“Nope. You have to stay out there with Killian. I’m not coming in.”

Henry flops back into the water, and she just knows he’s groaning. Why is he so dramatic?

But then he’s coming back up to the surface, and she sees Killian’s lips move before he holds his hand up to cover his mouth so she can’t see what he’s saying. Henry nods along, a smile carving itself a place, and Emma leans back into the sand and sighs. That’s good. They’re getting along, and she can worry about that a little, tiny bit less.

She really, desperately wants Henry to like Killian.

Because she really, desperately likes Killian, and it’s been a long time since she felt like she could have something besides Henry be good.

Emma draws her hand through the damp sand, picking up small broken pieces of shells, and when she looks up, she sees both Henry and Killian swimming to the shore. They’re in a public place and she’s around her kid, so she tries not to be distracted by the sight of Killian coming up out of the water. She’s only a woman though, and there’s only so much she can do.

“Hey, love,” Killian says as he stands above her, holding his hand out, “can I talk to you for a second?”

“I’m listening.”

He cocks his head. “In private.”

She narrows her eyes. “Why?”

“Because I have to share a secret.”

“Okay,” Emma laughs, taking his hand and letting him pull her up. He drags her a few feet over as Henry stands right in her eye-line, and she’s not sure which of them she’s supposed to keep her eye on. “What kind of secret do you have?”

Killian’s brows waggle in that way they do, and he dips his head down before wrapping his other arm around Emma’s back and tugging her closer so that the front of her suit gets wet.

“I need you to distract Henry.”

“What? Why?”

“Because he mentioned wanting to find shark teeth, and I found a bag of them at the shack. I need to scatter them around while he’s not looking.”

A lump collects in Emma’s throat, and she tries to swallow it down. She really does, but she can’t quite get it to go away. She needs air, though, and for the stinging of tears behind her eyes to go away because she’s not going to cry. She doesn’t cry. Nope. Not at all.

(She is a liar. She cries all of the time.)

But she doesn’t want to cry about this because that would be ridiculous.

“You bought him shark teeth?”

“What? Is that not okay? I figured it’d be fun for him and I – ”

“If I hadn’t made a pinky promise, I would kiss you right now.”

Killian chuckles, his eyes crinkling, and he leans that much closer in. “Later. I have other plans for you right now.”

“Really?”

Emma quickly glances over at Henry, and he’s biting his bottom lip, obviously trying to hide a smile. He gets that from her. And that’s when she gets what’s happening. That’s also when she feels her feet lift off the ground so that she’s half hanging over Killian’s shoulder.

“Jones,” she warns as he turns and slowly starts walking toward the ocean, “I can do horrible things to you.”

“That sounds like a promise and not a threat.”

“I’m serious,” she says, her heart rate ticking up as the water keeps getting deeper. It’s to Killian’s knees now, and she can feel it ghost over the bottom of her feet.

“You and I both know that if you wanted down, you could get down.”

“You’ve got a pretty tight grip.”

“And if I didn’t want to scar your boy for life, that grip would be on your ass.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Most definitely, but this was also Henry’s idea.”

“What?” Emma laughs, suddenly not so irritated with Killian. “It was not.”

“Oh, no, it most definitely was.” Killian shifts her around until her legs are wrapping around his waist and her shoulders are hanging onto his neck. She can feel the way he breathes, the steadiness of it, and for a moment she’s distracted by that and the way the background of the ocean brings out the blue in his eyes. “Look at him and see.”

Sure enough, when she twists around to look back at the beach, Henry is standing there bouncing on his toes, watching them with rapt, excited attention.

“That little mastermind.”

“He’s certainly something else.” Killian’s hands adjust underneath her, this time landing on her ass, but she knows he’ll claim it’s only for support. She definitely doesn’t mind. “I won’t let your feet touch the ground, love, and you’ll never leave my arms. I’m simply going to make it a show for Henry.”

“For Henry,” she repeats back while taking a deep breath to try to calm her nerves.

“Yeah,” he smiles, nodding. “For Henry. Now, on the count of three. One, two – ”

And then Killian is very literally tossing her up before pulling her down with him. She closes her eyes out of instinct, nerves bubbling back up and making her heart race, but even under the shock of the cold salty water, she can feel Killian’s arms around her, holding her up when she should be totally submerged. He didn’t lie. Her feet never touch the ground. They stay suspended in the water before wrapping around his waist and her arms wrapped around his neck. Being submerged isn’t all that bad, but it’s because she knows she doesn’t have to touch the ground and that if something is going to come and attack them, it might get Killian instead of her.

She’s a fantastic girlfriend, obviously.

When she finally adjusts to being under the water, she can feel Killian moving, and then they’re above water and she’s gasping for air and opening her eyes to see Killian still right in front of her. She’s distracted by the way that water trickles down his face and how his hair is pushed back off his forehead except for these few strands are dangling forward. His smile is bright and wide, and the feel of him pressed up against her body feels as warm as the sun shining down on her back.

And really, she nearly forgets about her pinky promise and leans forward to slide her lips over his until she hears Henry’s raucous laughter back on the shore.

“Careful, love,” Killian whispers, “wouldn’t want to spoil the kid’s mood.”

“Later,” Emma promises, echoing their words from earlier, “now let’s get me back to dry land so I can distract him and let you hide those shark teeth.”

“I’ll try to make it as natural as possible.”

“He’s six. I don’t think he’ll notice.”

“But he’s a smart lad, Swan. Wouldn’t want him to catch onto our devious plans.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

She and Killian quickly get back to the shore, and Henry is still laughing, all of his teeth showing and his eyes nearly closed from how he can’t seem to stop. Emma immediately chases after him, wrapping him in a hug and swaying him back and forth as she jokingly gets onto him for conspiring with Killian to throw her in the water. He apologizes, but Emma’s not mad, not at this.

Looking over her shoulder, she can see Killian shuffling through the tote bag, and Emma turns back to Henry with her own bright smile.

“Race you down to that pink umbrella?”

“What do I win?”

“Who says you’re going to win, kid?”

And then she’s sprinting away, and Henry is sprinting after her. She can easily beat him, even with the magical energy and speed that a six-year-old has, but since that would take the joy out of everything, she keeps managing to trip up or slow down until Henry is running past her and beating her to the pink umbrella.

When she joins him, she fakes being tired, resting her hands on her knees and exaggerating her breathing. “When did you get so fast?”

“Since I got my new shoes.”

“You’re not even wearing any shoes.”

He shrugs. “I guess they still make me fast.”

Emma laughs and leans down to kiss Henry’s cheek. “C’mon, we need to go put more sunscreen back on you.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You have to.

Henry mumbles and grumbles the entire walk back, and Emma leads him back to their own umbrella, where she dries him off before reapplying his sunscreen. He continuously squirms, but she eventually gets him all covered to the point where she sends him off to go get Killian, who is casually sitting in the sand running his hand over the same place.

Smooth.

She watches as Killian waits for Henry to get near him. Henry plops down next to him, and they talk for a minute or two before Killian pulls something up from the sand and shows it to Henry, who is more excited than she thinks anyone should be to find a shark tooth. But this is what he wanted, even if Killian had to fudge the truth a little to get there, and Emma’s not going to question it as they keep walking around with Henry’s little plastic shovel discovering more and more teeth.

Emma grabs her phone and takes a picture of the two of them examining one they found, and she tries not to examine it too much as her heart beats a little faster and her cheeks heat. It has absolutely nothing to do with the sunshine.

This is good.

This is really damn good, and she lets herself hope that maybe this is going to be the time where it all works out.

-/-

Killian pulls into her apartment complex and puts the car in park before turning the key. He looks back before patting her leg. “He’s asleep.”

“He was out the moment we got in the car. He had a long day.”

“Well, should I let you two go? I – ”

“Do you want to come inside?” Emma interrupts. “It won’t take me long to put him to bed and then we can see what’s on Netflix.”

He nods, and smiles, almost shy. She likes when his smile is tentative like that, likes that he cares not to overstep with her. “I’d love that, Swan.”

Emma gets out of the car and opens the back door to get Henry as Killian gets all of their bags from the trunk. She’s thankful now that she made him get in the outdoor shower at the pier and change clothes after dinner, so now she doesn’t have to worry about getting him in the bath before bed. She picks him up and lets him wrap himself around her, and then they walk upstairs, careful to stay quiet so that he doesn’t wake.

She thinks she’s in the clear when she’s got him in bed, but then his eyes flutter open.

“Shhh, go back to sleep, kid.”

He nods and opens his eyes a little wider. “Mom?”

“Yeah?” she asks, smoothing his hair over his forehead.

“I like Killian.”

Emma swallows and then nods, trying to hold in her smile. “Me too.”

“You can kiss him now, but only a little.”

Emma laughs and leans down to press her lips against Henry’s forehead. “Goodnight, Henry. I love you.”

“Love you, too,” he mumbles, his eyes fluttering closed again.

She waits until she knows that he’s asleep, and then she stands from his bed and walks out of Henry’s bedroom. Killian’s sitting on the couch when she gets to the living room, their bags all put away and the mess in the kitchen cleaned, and Emma walks toward him until she’s sitting down next to him and curling into his side, resting her elbow on his shoulder as his arm wraps around her. waits

“Hey.”

“Hey, beautiful.”

Emma ducks her head and smiles before looking back up at him. “I have some good news for you.”

His brow arches. “Is that so?”

“Mhm. You’ve gotten the Henry Swan seal of approval. He said you could kiss me…but only a little.”

“Oh, well, if the lad insists, I guess I have to listen.” His mouth lingers over hers, tantalizingly close and tempting, “but only a little.”

And then he kisses her, and Emma melts into it and him and how damn good this day was.

Mostly, though, she’s happy that there’s going to be more of them.

[poc-movie-supremacy]

Family Traditions

@mousemadej

HEHEHE MERRY CHRISTMAS MAXIE I hope you like this, so much

Shane reminisces about visiting his family with Steven while they wait on the train to visit Steven’s family. They had danced and ate and sang. Old Family traditions are kept alive, and New ones are made. 

---

They were in the back of an uber heading to the airport. Steven sat beside him in the passenger seat reading from his phone. A light snow had just started and the roads were thankfully empty. Driving in the snow never made him feel easy. As they drove along silently, Shane reminisced about visiting his parent’s. 

This was the first year in a while that he was able to visit them instead of them visiting him. His parents, his brother and his wife and their daughter were spending the holiday together. Scott, his brother, and Sofia, his niece, met him and Steven at the airport. Sophia sprinted toward her uncle giggling wildly. Shane handed his one bag to Steven and bent down to pick up Sophia. He swung her around before peppering kisses onto her face. Scott gave Steven a hug before taking some of their bags. Steven watched happily as uncle and niece reacquainted themselves to each other. She was rapidly telling him some story about an incident in school. Sophia talked so quickly that Shane could only nod along. The interaction made Steven giggle. 

This alerted Sophia to Steven’s presence. “Hi Uncle Stevie! Merry Christmas! Can you believe what Eleanora did?”

Steven shook his head, trying in vain not to burst out laughing. Sophia paid it no mind, and continued telling her story. Steven took Shane’s hand and together left the airport. 

Christmas with the Madej’s was fun. It snowed the entire time they were there, making it the first white Christmas they’ve had in a while. Sophia was ecstatic and pulled whichever uncle was available into playing in the snow with her. Shane thought he could handle the snow but he was sorely mistaken. Being a California boy took a toll on him and forced him to layer up more than usual. Steven was a little smarter and layered up from the get go. Together, with Sophia, they played many games in the snow that Shane used to play as a kid. They made gay snowmen, had a snowball fight and went sledding. By the end of it, Shane was shivering. Scott gave him an earful for it, but Steven took the opportunity to curl up against him, making up for it. 

Late nights with the Madej’s were just as fun. Some nights, Sherry and her husband regaled the room of Christmas stories from old, other nights they put on a record of old Christmas and dance the night away. Shane would get up and stretch out his long legs before extending a hand to Steven. Steven would blush but accept. Shane would pull him close to do a little waltz around the living room. Lowly, ever so softly, Shane would whisper the lyrics of the songs he knew best into Steven’s ear. The crackling of the fire, the twinkle of the Christmas lights, and the glint of their wedding rings (because of the fire) provided a nice ambiance. 

“Here we are, as in olden days… Happy golden days, to youuu.” Shane sang into Steven’s ear. 

Steven hummed, “This what your childhood was like? Dancing with someone to your parent’s old Christmas records?”

“Not exactly, as a child I didn’t have a pretty partner.” Shane’s voice was deep and low and he caught Steven’s eye to wink. It made the other man giggle aloud and blush deeply.

“We also used to eat the snow.” Shane added absentmindedly. 

“Eat the snow?” Steven prodded, curious.

“Yeah, I’ll show you sometime. Mom would send me and Scott out with tins to collect fresh snow. When we’d get back, she’d coat them in syrup and give us a spoon. Free food!” Shane exclaimed excitedly. 

“One day we’ll have to try it,” Steven said with a smile. 

They were only able to stay at the Madej’s for a short while before having to pack up and head over to Steven’s parents house. They devised a system where they would spend five days with the Madej’s then take a train to the Lim Family and spend another five days there before going home. 

Finding out Uncle Steven and Uncle Shane couldn’t stay for the whole holiday devastated Sophia. Shane almost, almost, changed his mind for her, but knew they had to stick to the plan. Before they left, Sophia handed the two men a couple of messiled wrapped Christmas gifts. Steven smiled at her and gave her a thank you hug. Shane shared similar sentiments making Sophia beam.

“I’m sad that you can’t be home for Christmas, so I wanted to give you these now, so you’d have it one Christmas. You can’t open it before Christmas okay?” 

Steven nodded solemnly, “We promise sweetheart. We’ll even facetime you so you can watch us open it.”

Sophia looked up at them with hopeful excitement. “Really, you promise?”

Steven smiled warmly at her and put a hand on her cheek, “We promise.” Sophia squealed excitedly and ran off to tell her mom about the new development. 

Shane smiled gratefully at Steven. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Is getting a kid my reward?” Steven teased.

“When God gives me the ability to have kids sure. Until then we wait.”

“I can be patient, I guess,” Steven teased. He held up his pinky in a promise, “kids one day?” 

Shane finished the pinky promise, and chuckled. “Kids one day, baby, one day.” 

“Can’t wait.” 

As Steven went around the upper half of the house checking to make sure they didn’t forget anything, Shane took the bottom half. When he noticed the to-go syrup packets, Shane stuffed a few into his pockets. 

They headed off to the train to catch the next ride to Ohio. Luckily they arrived with time to spare. Steven settled in to wait for the train with a novel. Shane still felt a little restless though, and went to walk around. It was still snowing outside, enough that a decent layer of snow covered the ground. 

Opportunity struck Shane, making him smile. He walked back into the airport and found a souvenir shop that sold nice cups. Shane picked one that he knew Steven would like, a cup that had many little drawings on it. It was a fox and a cat in the woods with strawberries and blueberries around them. He thanked the clerk before heading back out. Quickly, it was cold, Shane scooped up a cup of fresh snow. He poured the packs of syrup onto the snow to create a thick layer. A pop up restaurant had some plastic spoons he could use. With his little treat ready, he headed back to his husband. 

Steven had his forearms resting on his thighs trying in vain not to fall asleep. Shane let out a soft chuckle and plopped down next to him. “Wakey wakey baby. Look what I made you.” 

Steven moved slowly, like his brain was lagging. He blinked at him, slightly confused like his brain wasn’t aware of its surroundings. The look on his face was open and trusting and tinged with love and confusion. It made Shane smile for a second, calmed by the steady love his husband had for him. Then a sense of excitement took over when he remembered the gift he had. 

“I got something for you!” Shane singsonged. He pulled out the cup of what was basically sweet sugar ice and held it out to Steven. The other very tired man perked up instantly. His eyes widened at the cup full of treats with pretty designs. His mouth dropped open into a pretty o shape while his hands carefully cradled the cup. 

“Baby…” he breathed.

Shane chuckled nervously. “Do you like it?” 

Steven nodded frantically with a slow bashful smile creeping onto his face. He took the spoon, swirled the snow and syrup before taking a bite. Shane waited ‘calmly’ for his husbands reactions. 

It didn’t disappoint. Steven made a happy noise before continuing to scarf it down. When he finally took a break he smiled happily at his boyfriend. Shane reached over and thumbed away some excess syrup on Steven’s upper lip. 

“This?” Steven gestured to the half full cup of syrup snow, “This is good. Very good. I get why you loved it as a kid. Thank you for getting me some.”

“Of course Stevie. I’m glad you liked it so much.” Steven nodded then went back to eating the treat. By the time Steven fully finished his icy treat, the train was ready to board.  They carefully packed up the cup, which Steven loved, into one of their extra bags before boarding the train. It was relatively sleek with many red velvet booth seats. They found their row and put away their bags. Shane settled in to watch a movie on his phone while Steven picked up his book from earlier. 

They sat together in silence for a while. The train conductor gave announcements before leaving the station. Once the sugar rush cleared up, Steven passed out. Shane closed his book and made sure Steven was comfortable beside him. Shane plugged in some soft Christmas music and let himself relax. 

“What are you listening to?” A groggy voice asked beside him. Steven yawned and stretched out beside him. 

“Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” 

Steven made grabby hands for one of Shane’s airpods. Shane gave him one of the airpods and started the song up again.

“Mmm. Nice song, Is this your favourite?” 

“I’ve never thought about favorites. ‘Is Christmas only a tree’ is a good one. My mom’s always loved ‘Your a Mean One Mr. Grinch.’ She’ll put on this green mask and get my father to dance with her.” Shane laughed at the old childhood memory. 

“My parents were a little more formal. My father used to sit at the piano and start the music. Then my mom would stop whatever she was doing to join him on the bench. Together they would sing a few Christmas songs. O’ Holy Night was a favourite of my parents.”

“It’s a nice song. Melancholic, but i don’t know… moving? If that makes sense.”

Steven nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, you feel something while it plays.” Shane let his fingers play with Steven’s as ‘Have yourself a Merry Christmas’ comes to a close. 

“What to play next…” Shane mumbled as he looked through the different options. With disdain he scorned, “Not ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside.’ I don’t like that song.”

Steven made an unhappy sound, “I don’t like it either.” Steven tightened his grip on Shane’s fingers, “Oh look! ‘The Christmas Song’ by Nat King Cole, play that one.”

“Is that your favorite?”

“Nope, I actually like “Christmas Tree Farm” by Taylor Swift. Very upbeat and happy song, but still feeling almost vintage. My parents would always play the more Catholic Christmas Songs, and they were great, but not like upbeat, you know? So hearing this song that I definitely mistake for a slightly older one, with nostalgic family vibes that was happy was an instant win for me.” 

“It is a great song, I like the violins in the beginning. Really spices it up.” Shane took a deep breath, “I think I picked a song I really like.” 

Steven quirked an eyebrow at him. “In the spirit of upbeat songs, ‘I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas’ is a favorite one. It’s so weird but happy. I don’t know why but I’ve always liked it.”

Steven smiled at his husband. “It’s a nice song. Whenever it plays I can’t help but giggle at it. The girl singing is adorable.” 

“She needs her hippopotamus!” Shane joked, unintentionally making himself laugh softly which made Steven laugh too. 

“She needs her hippopotamus,” Steven echoed through his giggles. When they calmed down he looked around the train car. It was empty save for two waitresses talking in a booth, booths away from them and a few passengers in the single seats near the front of the car. An idea struck Steven. He disconnected the air pods, searched up ‘I want a hippopotamus’ on Youtube. 

“Another time maybe I’ll show you a family tradition. Maybe I’ll play you O Holy Night on the piano while you sing, but for now why not do one of yours… ish. Ok maybe this isn’t one of your family’s traditions, but its still nice.”

Shane looked at his husband apprehensively. Steven smiled back at him, wobbling between awkward and excited. “Stevie, what do you mean?”

Stevie stretched his hand out, “Dance with me?” Shane laughed out loud. He took Steven’s hand, played the song at a low volume and danced. It wasn’t like the half-waltz back in the cabin. This was flailing limbs, loud laughs, and soft touches. It was really pretty bad, but it was there’s, so that made it special. 

“We should do this again.” Steven told Shane as the song came to an end.

Shane looked at him, perplexed. “Dancing on a train?”

“No, visiting both our families and dancing wildly on a train. Maybe this could be our family tradition.”

“It’d be a pretty funny tradition. I love it.” The boys got back into the car seat and talked quietly about other Christmas traditions. The car ride went on smoothly. Snow hit the window as one of the workers passed out some hot chocolate. This time Shane would be the one to fall asleep during the last leg of the journey. Steven sipped on some hot coco as he watched the snow fall.. He made sure Shane was comfortable sleeping next to him. Before checking up on work, and with Ryan and their other friends, Steven fingered his wedding ring. “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night,” he joked. It was a good night indeed.