#the way he just Lays there hugging his pillow and blankly staring at buck when he asks him to be his best man

[gingerwerk]

The way bucky immediately goes 😒 whenever buck mentions Marge makes me cackle like be more obvious about your little crush my dude

[glittermork]

Modern Royalty AU pt. 3

part 1 part 2

Summary: Jaemin’s mom is suing the king.

(Alternatively: Renjun and Jeno finally have that talk they’ve been meaning to get to for the last three months, and Jaemin is alive.)

Jaemin hasn’t woken up in a hospital since he was seven and his father bashed an empty soju bottle over his skull. Back then, the scar had been cool and the schoolwork he’d missed was easily made up. His mother had been by his side crying when he’d woken up. His father had given him ten bucks and the new Spider-Man comic for lying to the nurse about how he’d gotten hurt.

Roughly sixteen years later, he wakes up to the sound of someone sobbing.

“Hnnngnhghn,” he says, and the sobbing stops with a choked gasp.

Jaemin peels one eye open and regrets it immediately. Sitting on Jaehyun’s lap on the left side of his bed is Taeyong. (Fuck. Jaemin doesn’t know how to deal with people when they cry! This isn’t part of his job!)

“Oh shit, he’s awake,” he hears Jaehyun mumble, and he just barely resists the urge to roll his eyes, (mostly because he suspects that it would really fucking hurt), as he struggles to sit up. Unfortunately, this is also the exact moment his body decides to let him know that there is a bullet hole in his fucking torso, and maybe he should take that into consideration when he tries to make any sudden movements.

Collapsing on the bed in an uncoordinated flop, Jaehyun smirks at him and Taeyong frowns. “Lay back down, you dummy,” Taeyong sniffles, collecting himself from his boyfriend’s lap. Jaemin would spare a thought to wonder why he’s not worried about being caught, if it didn’t feel like his entire body was on fire. He should probably stop jumping in front of bullets.

“Na Jaemin,” Taeyong begins his lecture, and Jaemin groans. “Do you have ANY IDEA how fucking worried we were about you? You almost died on the operating table! TWICE! I thought we were really going to lose you the second time! What the fuck!”

“I almost died again? Jesus,” Jaemin mutters.

Taeyong splutters. “The fuck do you mean—AGAIN?!”

“You know I had a job before this, right?”

“Well, yeah, of course, but—you know what? No. Shut up. I was worried! And I thought your mom was going to actually strangle my dad and—“

“Hold up, my mother is here?”

Taeyong stares back at him blankly. “You got shot, Jaemin. Of course she came.”

“Your mom is, like, really fucking mad at you, by the way,” Jaehyun says. Jaemin assumes he’s just here for Taeyong’s emotional support.

“Shut up, Jae,” Taeyong groans, drying his tears on his boyfriend’s sweater. “I’m gonna go get a nurse. Play nice or I’m not putting out for a month.”

“Damn,” Jaehyun mutters under his breath, and sits back down in his chair next to Jaemin’s bed. “Seriously, though, kid, the doctor handed your mom your nipple piercings in a plastic bag ‘cuz I guess they had to take them out for surgery or some shit and she fucking, lost her mind.”

“Great! Thanks, Jaehyun! That’s exactly what I wanted to hear, two minutes after waking up from a coma!”

“I didn’t know you had nipple piercings,” he continues, and Jaemin thinks this is maybe the last conversation he’d like to be having right now. He’s tired. and he misses Jeno and Renjun. “Aren’t you, like, five? I didn’t know they let toddlers get nipple piercings?”

“First of all, I’m twenty-three,” Jaemin grumbles, glaring at him. “And I’ve had them since I was eighteen, so fuck you.”

Jaehyun holds his hands up defensively. “Hey, you do you, man, all I’m saying is—“

Jeno and Renjun, of course, decide that it’s the appropriate moment to make an appearance. Seriously, fuck his fucking life. The door flies open, and standing there, in all their slightly-haggard, stayed-at-the-hospital-for-over-24-hours-glory, are the two (2) loves of his life. Jaemin kind of wants to go back to sleep.

“Fucking hell, Nana,” Renjun mumbles, and promptly bursts into tears. Jeno looks mildly alarmed but he’s also holding up his boyfriend with one arm and staring at his other boyfriend (they really need to have that talk) in a hospital bed, so, whatever. Together they sort of half-limp-drag-walk to the unoccupied side of Jaemin’s bed, and now Jaemin has to fight the urge to cry as well. So maybe getting shot is god-awful, but as long as these two are safe, he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

“Please never do that again,” Jeno breathes, and buries his face in Jaemin’s neck. Jaemin wonders if maybe this is some sort of punishment from god or whoever the fuck is up there, for falling in love with the prince and the prince’s boyfriend. There’s no other explanation for why they’re both climbing into his bed, and crying on his shoulders and holding his fucking hands.

“Um. What is happening here?” Jaemin asks Jaehyun, who is currently taking pictures of them for his blackmail folder.

Jaehyun gives Jaemin the most deadpan look, and sighs. “There’s no hope for you.”

He’s about to make a weak retort, when Taeyong, followed by a line of medical professionals, the king, and his mother, burst into the room.

Jaemin sighs. It’s going to be a long morning.

—

“What I don’t understand,” his mother is saying, but Jaemin hasn’t been listening since she started ranting about the Pride photos again. “Is why you didn’t think to tell me that boys you were in love with were the prince that you’re supposed to be guarding and his boyfriend?”

Jaemin shrugs half-heartedly, and licks another spoonful of pudding. They’ve gone over this four times already. He wants to take a nap. He misses his. . . .charges. (Are Jeno and renjun considered his charges? Is that the right word for it? Does he need to maybe cool it with the pain meds? Yeah, probably.)

“Could you keep your voice down?” He winces, and glances out the door. It would honestly be the cherry-on-top of the bullshit-sundae, if he got fired for being in love with Jeno and Renjun after he quite literally just took a bullet for them. Maybe it’s what he deserves.

“Oh, shut up,” his mom rolls her eyes, brushing a lock of Jaemin’s hair out of his eyes, and kissing his forehead. “You know they love you back, right, baby?”

“Mom, I—“

“No, you listen to me, Na Jaemin.“ Shit, she full-named him. “Those two boys have been here since the moment you were admitted. They’ve been crying over you all night and all morning and if you think that doesn’t mean they love you too, you’ve got another thing coming, honey.”

“Mom,” he sighs, and closes his eyes. The Academy didn’t train him for this. “They love each other. I’m sure they were just worried about me because we’re friends. Or they felt guilty that I took a bullet for them. Which they shouldn’t, it’s my fucking job. I’m probably just—reading too far into things. They’ve been in love since they were, like, infants, you know? I can’t mess that up. And I don’t want to.”

His mom gives him an unreadable look, and huffs, shaking her head. “you always were too stubborn for your own good, baby,” she says, and pats his thigh.

“Mom,” he sighs, and hides his face in the sweatshirt Jeno had given him because ‘I know you get cold easily’, (Jaemin had practically swooned right on the spot). He’d looked nervously to Renjun after that comment, but the older boy was just smiling affectionately at both of them, hand easily continuing to stroke the hair at the nape of Jaemin’s neck, his other resting clasped with Jeno’s over Jaemin’s lap. The entire morning had felt unreal.

“Jaemin,” his mom sighs back in the same tone of voice, and gives his sweatshirt a pointed look.

So maybe they do have some things to work out. But he just can’t get his hopes up. He’s doesn’t know what he’ll do if they get crushed.

“Don’t give me that look,” he blushes, tugging the hood over his greasy hair, and grimacing. “When’s the soonest I can take a shower?”

“I don’t know,” Donghyuck replies, poking his head into the room to announce his arrival. “You should’ve thought of that before you jumped in front of a bullet, idiot.”

“Hyuck!” Jaemin grins, making grabby hands at the giant plushie Hyuck is balancing with a bouquet of sunflowers and what looks like the entire boxed set of Buffy DVDs Jaemin keeps in the back of his closet.

“What’s up, Nana,” he grins, handing his mother the flowers and setting the DVDs on his bedside table. “How’s my favorite little bodyguard doing?”

“Shut up, Hyuck,” Jaemin rolls his eyes, hugging the soft bumblebee plushie to his chest. “I'm guessing the flowers are from your other thirds?”

“Yeah, Mark said sorry he couldn’t be here, poor baby’s been arguing with the charity ball security team all morning. The plushie is from Jisung, though.”

“Yikes,” Jaemin winces, “tell him I’m sorry I can’t be there to help him. And I know it’s from Jisung, I got his for him for his birthday last year.”

Hyuck shrugs. “I forgot about your weird symbiotic relationship. Anyway, clean up is Mark’s best skill, Nana. Besides, you should tell him yourself—he hasn’t stopped anxiety-ing over you all morning.”

“Tell him the flowers are lovely, too!” His mother interjects, gathering her purse and jacket and kissing him on the forehead. “I’m gonna go get lunch and find that dumbass king of yours—“ “Mom! Promise me you won’t—“ “I’m not promising anything!” She finishes, calling over her shoulder as she swings out the door. Jaemin would be assed to stop her if he didn’t already know what a losing fight looked like.

Hyuck rolls his eyes, and peels open Jaemin’s other pudding. Jaemin just barely suppresses the urge to pout.

“What kind of shit are they feeding you in here, anyway?” He asks, licking the lid, and Jaemin slumps back onto his pillows.

“Mush.”

“Gross. Okay! I’m done with small talk, time for the real reason why I’m here: you took a fucking bullet for them.”

“Hyuuuuck,” he whines, smashing his face back into the bumblebee plushie to avoid Hyuck’s knowing gaze. “Can’t you just be a normal visiting friend and tell me I was brave or some shit?”

“Fine. You were brave! And incredibly fucking stupid! Now, please tell me how you call that ‘a little crush that I’ll get over eventually’?”

“In case you haven’t noticed,” Jaemin mumbles into the pillow, “it’s kind of my fucking job.”

Hyuck sighs dramatically, and plops down on the newly-vacated chair. “Hopeless,” he mutters, and shoves another spoonful of low-fat pudding in his mouth.

—

The nurses had cut him off after two seasons of Buffy, so Jaemin and Hyuck had elected to play quiet music and talk about food. A subject neither of them could ever grow tired of.

Hyuck’s not really sure how that turned into this.

There are tears streaming down Jaemin’s face. It’s only two in the afternoon. The Weekend by SZA is playing for the sixth time in a row. Hyuck is five seconds away from murdering him in cold blood. His bullet wound kind of throbs but maybe it’s just his heart breaking into a million pieces.

“You’re not a side hoe,” Hyuck groans, snatching Jaemin’s phone and turning it off.

“Fuck you,” he sniffles, leaning back on the crinkly hospital pillows, “I’m a home wrecker. And I’m ugly.”

“You’re so incorrect about both of those things that I’m not gonna even respond to that! Okay, I think that’s enough phone-time. How about we just talk, okay? Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Jaemin sniffs. “Maybe,” he admits, sinking slowly into his pillow pile until the only visible part of him is his hair sticking out like an unruly tree branch.

Hyuck snorts. “Do you want to go to take a nap, baby?”

“Shut up.” Jaemin replies, and promptly passes out.

“Absolutely fucked,” Hyuck sighs to himself as he tucks the younger boy in.

—

Renjun has never been certain of anything as much as he and Jeno.

JenoJenoJeno. He could talk about him for days on end. He could wax-poetic about his eyesmile and his teeth and his hands for the rest of his life. Really, he plans to. Jeno, Jeno, Jeno. The boy he’s loved for as long as he can remember.  

And while Jeno is lovely and beautiful and Renjun’s very best friend in the entire world, he has a tendency to hang off Renjun’s every word. And while that’s, admittedly, fantastic, it’s not always what Renjun needs. Sometimes he needs someone to push back. Someone who can meet him blow for blow. Someone who’s not afraid to talk back.

In other words, Renjun needs Jaemin.

JaeminJaeminJaemin. His ears, his nose, his cheeks. Renjun could think about him for hours—days—weeks, on end. He feels like the wind is knocked out of him every time the bodyguard makes eye contact with him with that gorgeous smile. That smile. Renjun has dreams about it.

And, if his suspicions are correct, (fucking hell, please let them be) Jeno needs him too.

“So,” says Jeno after fifteen minutes of him and Renjun staring at each other across the unforgiving plastic benches of the hospital cafeteria.

“I think I’m in love with your bodyguard,” Renjun blurts out, and then immediately freezes.

“Oh, good,” Jeno sighs in relief. “Me too.”

—

“You can’t sue him,” Taeyong sighs for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Of course I can’t sue him,” Jaemin’s mom rolls her eyes. “He’s the fucking king. I’d lose in a heartbeat.”

“Then what, exactly,” Taeyong pinches the bridge of his nose, “was the point of you wasting my entire day?”

She shrugs, and takes a neat sip of the Diet Coke the prince had bought her after the first twenty or so minutes of arguing. “Just buying my idiot son some time to figure his shit out.”

—

Jaemin wakes up to the two people he’s most recently almost died for. It’s a pleasant surprise, considering he thought he’d be fired by now. Shit. Maybe they wanna do it in person?

“—min? You’re not listening to us at all are you?” Renjun chuckles, and Jaemin feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. So much for not being obvious. These meds are seriously fucking him up, huh?

“Jaem,” Jeno continues for Renjun, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand. Despite his better reasoning, Jaemin let’s his gaze rest painfully, just a second too long, on their clasped hands, and sits back against his pillows with a wince. Apparently, it’s time to be friend-zoned by the first people he’s been interested in since he was 20. What a sad end to a short career as a professional Kevlar vest.

“Jun, and I have finally had a talk, and—“We love you!” Renjun blurts out, and then promptly buries his head in Jeno’s shoulder as the prince chokes out a laugh in surprise. “Yeah,” he nods hopefully, staring expectantly at Jaemin as he scratches the back of his neck. “We love you. And we want you to be ours. That about covers it.”

Jaemin is absolutely floored. There are very few people in the world who Jaemin considers worthy of his complete love and protection, and two of them are standing here in his room looking at him like he’s the last piece to their 2000 set jigsaw puzzle, and this cannot be real.

He’s distracted from his own frantic, rambling thoughts by Renjun’s delicate, light fingertips brushing away a tear. That’s an interesting development, he hadn’t realized he’d been crying.

Through a few disgusting, choked out sobs, he manages to warble in his stupid, watery voice, “I love you too.” And then lips—he doesn’t know, and, frankly, doesn’t care who’s—are on his like a lifeline, and there’s nothing he feels like thinking about more right now, than how good it feels to finally, finally be complete.

In Renjun and Jeno’s strong, warm, arms, it feels like home.

—

There’s something to be said about the persistence of the paparazzi. Somehow, someway, they always know where to be to make the most absolute inconvenience of themselves and to make their subjects’ lives just that much less private. Truly, a marvel of a job.

There is also, however, something to be said about the sheer terror of going head to head with Jaemin’s mom.

“LISTEN UP, YOU FUCKING CREEPS,” she yells, and Jaemin doesn’t bother listening to the rest. “That was a pretty good start, I think,” Renjun comments, happily playing with the strings of Jaemin’s hoodie. He’s sitting on Jaemin’s lap and they’re both snuggled under the hideous blanket some nurse had draped over them when they’d gotten situated on the wheelchair. It still feels unreal to Jaemin, just as unreal as the sweet kiss Jeno drops on both of their foreheads as he skirts around them to deal with even more paperwork. Who knew even the prince’s bodyguard had to sign release forms?

“I can’t wait to get home,” Jaemin murmurs shyly into the base of Renjun’s neck, receiving a mouthful of soft, baby-pink turtleneck for his efforts.

“Me too, baby,” Renjun sighs, leaning further into his boyfriend’s embrace.

*click*

Their moment is interrupted by the snap of Jeno’s phone camera, as the prince shrugs at them sheepishly. “What?” He laughs, turning back to his paperwork. “It was perfect lock screen material, don’t judge me!”

Jaemin blushes, thinking back to his own lock screen, a picture of Jeno and Renjun he’d taken on one of their many forbidden, late-night, this-never-happened adventures. Renjun is on Jeno’s back, kissing Jeno’s cheek and holding up a peace sign, and Jeno is practically beaming at the camera, eye smile in full power. It’s Jaemin’s favorite picture of them ever, and he’s certainly spent an embarrassing number of nights staring at it desperately. Oh, if only he knew what was coming for him.

When he shows Renjun, the older boy gasps, immediately shoving it in Jeno’s face. “Oh, baby, this is one of my favorite pictures of us too! But, if I’m being honest, it’s missing something.”

“Hey!” Jaemin pouts playfully, trying not to grin. “It was the best I could do with my shitty old phone! I promise I’ll take many, many more.

“He didn’t mean the photo, Jaem,” Jeno laughs, leaning over to wrap Jaemin’s slightly-shaking hand in his warm, steady one. “He meant you.”

“Oh.” Jaemin, gasps, tears welling up in his eyes. How did he possibly get so lucky?

“Awwww, baby,” Renjun grins brightly at him. “We’re just gonna have to take a million more,” he shrugs.

Jeno nods solemnly in agreement, as he takes the safety brakes off of the wheelchair. Renjun slides off his lap reluctantly, taking Jaemin’s hand and tucking his blanket tighter around his shoulders.

“Ready?” Jeno grins, flicking his favorite pair of baby blue heart-shaped sunglasses down from their perch on the top of his head. Jaemin makes a mental note to buy him more colors when Renjun playfully whines that he wants to borrow them.

“Let’s go, you fucking dorks,” Jaemin laughs, tugging on Renjun’s hand and leaning his head back gently against one of Jeno’s arms. Renjun squeezes back and Jeno grins down at him, leaning down to peck Jaemin’s nose, and they’re out the door in mere seconds, to the flashes and screams of paparazzi and reporters alike.

Jaemin instinctively stiffens in his wheelchair, but relaxes immediately as both Jeno and Renjun squeeze his respective hands tightly in comfort.

It’s going to be fine. He has everything he needs, right beside him.

[iammarylastar]

7. Hurricane.

Another day driving to the safe house. Jack was all but safe. He could explode at any time. He tried to speak with Shade. He made the first step but she refused and had maintained a stubborn silence since. He could see her red eyes, circled by black lines. She must have cried and faked to sleep as much as he had. She nonetheless kept taking good care of Anna and had a few words with John.  But nothing with him. Not a word nor a glance. And it was killing him. He had made his best to give attention to Anna those last two days but he had felt like he had done all wrong.

How could he switch into a father in such a short gap? What could he do or say to bond with this cutie little girl?

She had come to him a couple of times, asking for stories or play games but he had stayed mute and blankly, ignoring which behaviour could be more appropriate.

How could he a damn father?

He has seen disappointment and sadness in Anna’s eyes each time he has failed to act like any normal human being would have done with a kid.  He could have ripped his own skin off, blaming himself to be such an idiot, he knew chatting with little ones, laughing at their jokes, tickling their chubby sides. But he was too impressed by this tiny person, knee high to a grasshopper. His daughter.

The night has fallen, Anna is asleep, her head resting on the pillow he took from their last room. If he was unable to interact with his child, he knew at least to have her safe and comfortable.

John is chitchatting with Shade, he asks for random things, she answers with yes, no or grumbles.

“He really hadn’t sent you any news from Berlin? Any? ”

“None.”

“Jack you should have given news. At least a proof of life to Shade or your family.”

“You know the rules John. Any contact with family is not allowed. Safety measures.”

“I know that. But there are ways to keep contact. I managed to stay in touch with Molly in my day.”

“I kept contact with Lucy at the beginning.” Jack barely admits.

“You… what?” Shade explodes.

“…” Jack finds nothing to answer.

“Jack, tell me you’re kidding me.” John whispers.

“Lucy was just back from her abduction! You know about it! You saved her!” He tries to explain.

“I know that! But you could have left a message for Shade.”

“I was worried about my sis! I thought Shade would wait for me. I thought she loved me!

“Fucker!” Shade bursts into tears of rage. “You kept in touch with your fucking sister and NOT WITH ME ?”

“Lucy had been abducted and almost killed by terrorists! I’m sorry to care about my family!”

“I was about to be your family! You wanted to fucking marry me ! " she cries.

"I would have asked you when I came back! But you were gone!”

“She was pregnant Jack.” John says quietly, tryinĝ to calm everyone down before they wake Anna up. “ You should have asked about her.”

‘And how the fuck was I supposed to know?“ Jack’s voice cracked in tears.

"By asking for me!!” Shade yelps between her cries.

“You’re doing it all wrong Jack.” John whispers.

“Fuck you John!” Jack violently hits the steering wheel.

He swerves the car, his sight is blurry with tears and he barely can focus on the road.

“Jack, pull over here!” John orders. “Stop that fucking car! Now !” He barks when seeing his son keeps going.

Jack slams the breaks and almost jumps out of the car. He's overwhelmed, his brain is fucking with him. Though he’s trained to endure the worst tortures, this was unsustainable. Shade. Anna. He realizes he fucked it up. Totally.

Jack screams in frustration; he needs to punch something, he needs the pain to bleed out. He grabs his head between his hands and crouches down.

“Jack.” John says, hopping out of the car. “Jack get back in the car.”

John grunts and bits back another scream.

“Get in that fucking car and take care of your girl. Stop your bullshit and fight to have your family back.”

Jack glares at his father. Who’s he to tell him what to do with his family?

“Jack. Don’t mess it up like I did. Do you want to live with regrets like me? Get into the car and talk to her. She needs a hug.”

“We’re not a hugging family John.” He retorts sharply.

“Do your best son.” John pats Jack on his shoulder.

Jack sighs, stands up to his feet and walks to the car.

“The things I’m going to do for that kid.” John proudly says. Then mumbles to himself, getting behind the wheel. “Yippi-kai-yay motherfucker.”

“Shade…” Jack whispers, shifting to sit closer to her. She lifts her eyes up to meet his. Her face is drown in tears, her makeup is flicking under her eyes, turning her beautiful features into a huge mess.

Jack wraps her in his arms, hugging her the tightest he could, rocking her against his chest.

God it feels so good to have her against him.

She buries her face in his neck and keeps blaming him.

“You left me Jack. You left and never came back. I wanted you to know your child… but I was so mad at you…” Jack cups the sides of her face and gently brushes her cheek. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He wants to kiss her so badly, he wants to get her rid of all this sorrow.

“You should have looked for me.” She grabs the collar of his shirt and clung onto him, desperately needing his touch.

“I’ve been missing you so much. Where have you been?” She lets out in a sob.

Jack kisses her forehead. Her skin under his lips throws shivers down his spine and he can’t help but kissing her again and again. He peppers kisses all over her face, his hands roaming over her neck and shoulders, then back to her face.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…” he says again and again, feeling his chest is likely to explode.

Shade melts under his touch, her hands stroke his neck and quickly grab the back of his head.

“Hold me tight.” She begs him, pulling him into a searing kiss.

Their lips parting, their tongues dancing together like they were used to, their hands exploring each other’s body, quickly stroking deeper and deeper, Jack and Shade melt into each other, making up for lost time.

Jack leans over Shade as he attacks her throat, his hands pulling her impossibly closer to him, guiding her thigh up around his waist.

Glancing in the rear view mirror, curious to know where these moans and wet noises come from, John argues:

“Wait wait kids! When I said she needs a hug, I didn’t mean do porn on the back seat! Jesus there’s a kid laying there!”

Jack rolls Shade over him, his hands guiding her waist to straddle his lap. Sliding his ass down the seat, spreading his thighs open, Jack growls when Shade presses her folds on his shaft. She grinds herself on top of his jeans, literally eating his mouth. Jack combs her hair back, and pulls her in a deeper kiss. Shade can’t fight the moans that escape her throat, her wetness multiplies as Jack bucks his hips up to meet hers.

“For God sake, kids! Couldn’t you wait a minute? We’re arrived at the motel. Please get a room!” John frowns as he witness what a dad doesn’t want to. Though it makes him happy to see those two finally make up, he’d rather run away before he sees too much.

Still kissing passionately, Jack and Shade extend their arms towards John and flip the bird at the same time. And resume their strokes.

“OK. I got it. Come on old man, save that little girl from the hugest nightmare ever.” John hops from the driver’s seat and walks to the back of the car to pick up the sleeping little girl. “Let’s go to bed princess. Your mom and dad obviously need privacy to ‘talk’. I hope you always wanted a baby brother because another McClane is in progress.”

He kicks the back door shut with his hip and can’t help but smirking. “Have fun kids!” And walks to check in for two rooms.

Pulling back, Shade starts working on Jack’s belt and quickly yanks both his jeans and boxers down his knees, Jack grunts loudly as his painful hard cock jumps free on his lower belly. Capturing her lips once again, he roughly tugs on her shirt, ripping off half of the buttons. Shade tilts her head back as Jack trails wet open kisses towards her breasts, he knows being her weakness.

“I want you back, Cupcake.” She whispers in his ear, nibbling at his lobe before licking the back of his neck which usually makes him lose his mind.

Jack sneaks his hands under her skirt and grabs the hem of her undies he tears to the side. Staring up at her green eyes sparkling with lust, he guides her ass up to line her dripping core with the head of his cock.

“I want you now, Boo.”

He slams her ass down on him and they both cry in pleasure, their faces twisting under the delicious feeling of their body united as one.

After a first primal release inside the car, they run hand in hand in the motel room John has left open and free for them. They spend the rest of the night forgiving each other’s faults and misunderstandings, hearts and souls devoted to each other.

Jack shows her how professional and skilled he is in witness-protection, never leaving an inch of her body exposed, only focuses on her safety. Shade for once sleeps peacefully, vulnerable but relaxed, uncovered, but with Jack’s large body blanketed around her.

Thx to my wondeful bêta @tigpooh67 @kenzieam @frecklefaceb @badassbaker @oddsnendsfanfics @beltz2016 @bookwarm85 @angelswannawearmyredshooz @beautifulramblingbrains @singingpeople @jaicourtneyseyes @jaihardi @writingismyhappytime

@shaunarcanine

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