#at least not beyond a knowing glance shared; a soft smile exchanged; and her fingers absently fiddling with the stones throughout the day

[invinciblerodent]

oh sometimes i'm overcome with the realization of just how sentimental a bitch i am

like i really am straight up just playing make-believe with these characters like they're digital barbies

okay so in Iona's inventory, i've had this necklace

since very early in act 1.

it was in Aradin's chest at the Grove, and it was the first thing "we" managed to get with the "I distract them with conversation/busking and you steal everything that isn't nailed down" act/trick I had thought up for her and Astarion. I thought it'd be kinda cute for him to, at the end of this test run, present it with a ~theatrical flourish~ once just out of earshot of its original owner, and for her to ~graciously allow~ him to drape it around her neck, as a hamfisted and silly act of mock-courtship they both know is false. (it was kind of a... "we both know what this is all about and where it's headed, but wouldn't it be fun to play make-believe and pretend it's something entirely different" type of thing.)

I thought it'd be cute, if a touch bittersweet for her to keep it, just slotted away in her little "sentimental items" pouch, like.... next to the dog toy, her old wedding band, and the other useless junk she couldn't bring herself to throw away or sell.

and then today, i found this as I was selling stuff in the Glittering Gala.

it's the same design. and i like to describe Iona's eyes as "amber" when I write about them (they're kind of a reddish/yellowish, pretty medium brown). and she looks much better in golds and reds than she does in blues and silvers.

so. um.

guess who got this bloody thing "sneaked" into her inventory at the long rest.

if you think i won't 1.) exit a trading screen abruptly, 2.) switch controlled characters, 4.) buy a silly and utterly useless junk item AS that character (thought about just picking her pocket but.... we have 35k gold. why would i.), and 4.) keep it in that character's inventory until it "seems like" the PC isn't "paying attention", and then 5.) drop it into their inventory "unnoticed", all for LITERALLY NO GOOD REASON other than just to act out a silly little gesture and support the little fanfic in my head, well.

you'd be very wrong.

((and i was grinning and giggling downright embarrassingly the whole time too))

[bloodstained-bard]

Prompt 6: Ring (FFXIV Write 2023)

Set Two Months prior to Envoy

—-

We are fated, you and I, to meet at the edges of the world and beyond, aren’t we?

The city was cooler that day than it had been in days. Dust still hung in the air, but the oppressive heat had abated to something bearable, at least. Most of the people wandering about carried on with their day in better moods than he’d seen in almost a fortnight. It was enough to leave him with a smile despite the growing nerves twisting in his chest. That familiar sensation had built the past few days culminating in him navigating the stone hallways from the Exchange and into the deeper heart of the city. Here the echoes of voices and the looming fountain bled together in a cacophony of sound that surrounded and invaded the senses.

It was a dizzying place to be in for even a moment, but days had passed since he’d arrived. Information, goods, and now one final piece of business had called him away from the shelter and comfort of his distant woods, away from her warmth. He reasoned that leaving was worth the risk, even for a short while, to try and discover who had set them on this path of destruction and murder. What had been a joyous few months had turned into a pitched battle for survival that had forced his small clan to retreat to their own home, to shelter behind wooden palisades and question what each day would bring. Ruin, or safety?

Banishing that somber thought, Vanric’s boots carried him deeper still until he found himself standing before the merchant's stall. His commission had been submitted weeks ago by courier, and now the moment of truth had come. “Ah, Mister Retelle was it? Welcome back sir, I assume you’re here to pick up your order?”

Nodding as he drew close, Vanric laid a hand to the edge of the counter with a glint in his eyes, and an uncharacteristically jovial smile to his lips. “I am. I know you said it would be another day but I thought one extra wouldn’t hurt. So…?”

Sileas’ smile was confirmation enough and after a bit of digging, she retrieved a small, wooden box and laid it onto the counter.

“I have it just here for you, sir. You know…I don’t often make a habit of asking but the particular nature of this commission, I have to ask is it..?”

A conspiratorial light drew into the Elezen’s gaze as he peeked back at her and he idly brushed a finger across the surface of the box. Unable to keep from glancing inside he slipped the top open, and felt the breath leave him in a sigh. His expression sobered, and his fingers hovered above the small gift inside for a few moments.

“Sir..? Is everything alright?” Drawn from that brief reverie he glanced up at once, surprised by his own absentmindedness. “Forgive me, yes, it’s…perfect. Exactly as I envisioned it…I just…seeing it in person..Thank you, and please pass along my thanks to the rest of the artisans. This…well I’m sure you hear this quite a bit but this means the world to me. Thank you. Now I just need to get it delivered.”

He watched her raise a hand to stifle the little laugh that escaped, and the warm smile veiled behind it. With a gracious bow of her head she wished him well along with a hope he’d return to do business with them again. As he slipped away, through the dizzying spirals of the inner courtyards, the stone pathways leading out into the morning sun, he tucked that small box away keeping it safely nestled in his satchel. It would take another two days to return home, but now that he had everything he needed, they’d pass swiftly enough.

But fate can be as cruel as it is giving…

He’d come to her that day clad in traveling leathers, bow at his back, and a small box held in one hand. What words they shared in parting were spoken letting the wind carry them to the horizon, and the gift was offered. Within a thin wooden box, in a bed of soft lavender cloth, was an earring that glinted in the morning light. A small bar of spun silver twisted together to form a pointed loop, at its top a trio of crimson flowers. 

Their surface was vaguely reflective, the tempered glass drinking in the light to give the appearance of morning dew on the petals, and adorning each in the middle was a single lavender-colored pistol. Beneath the flowers lay a small bronze chain that hung loose, a single strand of crimson hair braided along its length. A tiny translucent crystal shaped like a teardrop clung to the end of the chain glittering in the morning light, and drinking in the glow to cast various colors within. 

“We began on separate paths.”

A hand rose to gesture towards the silver band, following its path to where the loop began.

“And together were wonderful…now we move on separate paths again.”

He slowly curled his finger to follow the diverging path that wound to beneath where the flowers bloomed.

“To one day join again and fulfill a promise. You showed me there is more to the world than the walls I surrounded myself with and called it freedom. I intend to know this new world, to gaze upon it with fresh eyes, and one day…return to you with those stories and make good on my word.”

He drew a breath, swallowing only once before speaking again.

“Until then keep this with you. If you ever have need of me..no matter when, or where, or why…you need only speak to it and I will hear you, and I will come. Until we meet again..”

One final gesture was left; a small kiss laid atop her head in a bed of lavender, a small breath, and then he turned to take the steps that would carry him into that new world.

[parkers-gal]

yay! okay so I was thinking, what I'd the reader and Tom had a fight, could be over anything, but the reader was pregnant and a few years after, they bump into each other and they get back together. Sorry if it doesn't make sense.

this has been sitting in my inbox for a fat couple of months… sorry 😭

wc: 1.7k ! <3

—

“No, because you’re selfish and you can’t handle the fact that my life doesn’t revolve around you and your needs.” Tom spits out the words angrily, viciously, voice harsh and crisp.

You’re both frustrated beyond belief, and the bubble that had been overblown had finally popped, splattering your relationship and all the joyful aspects of it. Right now, you felt as if all that was left was the toxicity of two unbearable people who happened to love each other. You knew, deep down, that you loved each other enough to get through this, but with every passing moment, with every exchanged word, you realized at least one of you wouldn’t survive the damage.

“No, Tom. You’re selfish. You’re conceited and you only care about being a goddamn movie star. What happened to the family man, huh? What happened to staying tied down with me and your brothers?”

“Nothing happened to him! I’m still that person. I am a family guy.”

“Not to me, you aren't.”

“Well you’re not family!” He seethes through his teeth, anger radiating off of his short-tempered demeanor. You don’t even know how to react, so you spend the time soaking in the situation and how you should respond instead of actually doing it.

“You’re a fucking jackass. I asked when I could spend time with you and now you don’t even consider me as part of the family.”

“No,” He’s clear and concise even through the anger. “You asked when I’m going to stop living my life.”

“I said no such thing.”

“You didn’t have to! We both know that’s what you meant.”

“You’re not even on the same page as me anymore,” You scoff, arms crossing. “Seems like all this time in Hollywood made you forget that you’re not always the main character.”

“Fuck that, Y/N! Fuck! That!”

“No, Tom. Fuck. You.” You over-express your emotions, and after two more minutes of unbearable silence and screaming, he’s leaving your apartment just as fast as he arrived. You’re in shock, fingers shaking while you clear your throat, which is frayed and sore from all the yelling.

You sit back, elbows on your knees while your hands smoothen out your forehead. Tear after tear escapes your sobbing body, and eventually, you fall asleep on the couch.

In the weeks to come, you’ve realized the blow-out of a breakup could’ve been handled so much differently, but Tom hasn’t seemed to cool down at all — he’s petty enough to unfollow you on all social media, and you figure it’s time to let the hatred be mutual. You don’t touch your imessages, however, letting the love in those texts linger for a little longer.

Before you know it, you’re throwing up into the toilet boil, coughing violently at the action and spitting the bitter taste as best you can. You clean up, and when you check your phone, a small notification from your period tracker app alerts you that this is the second period in a row that has gone by without a hello.

Worried, you call Aisha, your closest friend and confidant. She’s over in no time, bringing along her girlfriend while you rant on the phone about your worries. They stop at the drugstore on the way.

The cause of your problems is discovered that day, and you collapse on the bathroom floor in agony, hands wiping at your face — through all the anger and fear and worry, you still love Tom. So much that Aisha even attempts to call Tom. But, alas, it’s sent straight to voicemail, and you realize he might’ve gone to extreme extents in blocking everyone.

You’re stuck going to the ultrasound with two lesbians and a frail old cat. Aisha is as supportive as ever, but as the doctor explains the process of each option, you feel sicker and sicker about the idea of getting rid of the fetus. In the end, you choose to keep the child you’re bearing, even if your ex-lover isn’t even in the picture.

Inevitably, the months pass, and as baby Charlie is brought into the wonderful world, you realize life as a single mother isn’t as scary as you thought it would be. In the first few months of your pregnancy, you’d kept tabs on what film Tom was doing and which was coming out next, but after the hormones and cravings, you’d decided to let the past sizzle and fade out in the way it was meant to all along.

It’s been almost three years since that fateful breakup, and Charlie is just reaching two and a half years old. You’re still single, and you’re okay with that. Charlie is all you need, all you’ve ever wanted, and the most important thing in your life. He’s young, and school is still a couple years away, but you enjoy having the toddler by your side, walking hand in hand with you because you’re his guardian, his provider, his only parent. You make him your only priority, because you don’t want him to grow up without anyone to love, or anyone to love him.

It’s hard, though. It’s hard because he’s a constant reminder of what didn’t happen, a constant reminder of what went wrong and of what you no longer have. You miss Tom more than words can express, and Charlie’s mop of brown curls reminds you of all the moments you’d run your fingers through Tom’s hair. You reminisce more than you’d like to, about Tom and your past, and though Charlie is technically half of the Brit, he’s one hundred percent yours. Because you’re the only one here, and that’s alright.

“Mummy,” Charlie tugs on your shirt’s hem while you move the shopping cart forward through the aisle. “Can we get the goldfish with superheroes?”

You jutt your lip out in a smile, nodding happily. “Of course we can, bub.”

As you step forward, you pit stop in the aisle, nearly tripping on the cart. You make direct eye contact with the man you used to love with your entire heart. The man who walked out with your heart and never gave it back. He’s staring right back at you, curls looking as fluffy as ever, face still a soft glow. Your breath hitches, and it’s then that you realize Charlie is still talking.

“Mummy?” He asks, and it’s just loud enough for Tom to hear. Harry, who’s beside Tom with an arm full of crackers and chips. Tom moves forward a few steps, hastily in an attempt to get more information.

“Uh, hi,” His smile is tight lipped as he stands at the other end of your shopping cart. Charlie shies away from strangers, standing behind your leg and holding your shirt with his grubby hands.

“Hi,” you return his awkward, reserved demeanor.

“Mummy who’s this?”

“‘Mummy?’” Tom has a follow up question for everything, and you internally panic, unsure on how to approach this.

You’d spent so long deciding how you should tell Tom that he was a dad. You spent hours debating on if you should pick up the phone or drive over just to tell him a truth you’ve kept inside for so long. You’ve abandoned social media, only sharing aspects of your life you can afford to post. Charlie is only occasionally on your page, but it’s not like Tom would see that, not after all that’s happened.

Your mouth opens and closes while you debate on how to reply. You’re physically incapable of saying your response, and it makes you even more nervous. You’re nervous on how he might react, what he’ll say, but most importantly, if he’ll stay.

“Is this…?

“My kid…” You fill in. “I- I mean our… our kid.” You pull your bottom lip between your rows of teeth, and you watch as Tom’s face undergoes thousands of expressions all at once. He’s surprised, shocked, happy, afraid, uncertain. You want the world to swallow you whole, suck you up so you don’t have to go through any of this again. But you don’t. Instead, you hold Charlie’s hand a little tighter.

“Our kid?” He drops a can of soup and you flinch at the loud noise.

“Mummy, who’s that?”

“That’s…” You don’t know how to answer his question. Instead, you lean down to his level, comfortingly and gently. “He’s a man.”

“Who’s that man?”

“He’s… your daddy.”

“I thought… no daddy?”

You purse your lips and furrow your brows. Tom’s watching the entire encounter from his place, but after a few beats, he steps forward, entering your bubble. Charlie doesn’t cower away this time, but looks up in curiosity.

“Hi, Charlie,” Tom extends his hand, adjusting his jeans so he can lean down just as you are, kneeling beside the young boy.

You look down, avoiding your worries and Tom’s gaze. He’s tearing up, and you want to cry too. You’re in a fucking supermarket, for god’s sake. This wasn’t how you envisioned any of this planning out, and though you’re mentally kicking yourself for letting it happen this way, you can’t help but feel like maybe this was meant to be. Written in the stars or whatever the folks say — you’re just grateful Charlie has at least a sliver of hope for two parents. Not that you can’t handle it, because you can, but you know someone like Tom wouldn’t want to miss something as important as this.

“I’m To- I’m…” He swallows thickly, making brief eye contact with you before looking back at Charlie. “I’m your dad.”

“Do you love my mummy?” He’s not shameless, but he’s still that shy little boy. “My friend says daddy’s love mommy’s so you must love mine, right?”

Tom lets a tear fall while he exhales a chuckle. He swipes the drop with the tips of his fingers, and the hand gripping Charlie’s squeezes it a little tighter. A glance in your direction is all it takes for him to answer Charlie’s question. “Yeah, buddy. I do.”

want more? my masterlist.

taglist tingz :) 🏷️  want to join? fill out this form.

th + pp taglist: @spideyspeaches @strawberrytom (no smut) @turtletaylor98 @parkerpeterparker2004 @peterbenjiparker @kelieah​

permanent taglist: @mayrapreciado20​ @tomhollandlol @roseke​ @supremethunda​ @wonderfulfluffer​ @farfromtommy​ @mamaparker28​ (no smut/tw) @pxxerfect​ (no smut) @seutarose @pixiedustsupplyco​ @itssmadelyn​ @white-wolf1940​ @woopwoopwoop222 @chrisosterfield​ (no tw)

th taglist: @lmaotshollandd

[jokersmeowmeow]

Apex Legends - affection hcs <333

Yooo y'all, I'm sorry I've been absent for quite a looong time, BUT I've been busy and unfortunately I still am, so here I can offer You some hcs with our lovely legends to recompensate my inactivity :3

Mirage:

Soft. Softer. THE SOFTEST!!!

Mirage is the most touch-starved person You've ever seen, but how can You possibly mind? He is an angel <333

He may make an impression of a laid-back alvaro, but he's actually really anxious about what he can and can't do with You - You have to state Your boundaries clear.

After You do this, he is STILL unsure about everything and in need of constant reassurance if this is okay if he touches You like this or kisses like that, but that only adds to his cuteness.

Simple gestures are able to melt him completely, just cup his face and tell him You love him, kiss the tip of his nose, nuzzle against him, and he'll be all Yours, almost in tears.

He longs for such affection and reciprocates every single act of it; for instance, he adores hugging You from behind randomly and hide his face in the crook of Your neck to breathe in the smell of Yours and feel the velvet softness of Your skin.

His growth brushing against Your neck tickles You and hence causes You to giggle - listening to Your laugh soothes him totally.

He does his best to complement You, as he thinks You deserve it and he regards You as the most perfect person he's met, even more perfect than him ;DDD (seriously, because he really thinks that, he's gonna boast about You being his lady all the time so that the whole world shall know You're a couple)

B U T

He's bad with words, we know that. Stuttering ruins and at the same time makes everything more adorable when it comes to Mirage

"Oooh sweety, You look so so extrard-ext-extraordrin... Just amazing, You look amazing..."

His face turns blood red in seconds, but to be honest with You, that's the moment in which You want to spread kisses all over his face the most.

After a long day apart, prepare for being trapped in a makeahift cage of his arms and arms of his decoys.

He just runs to You excitedly with his arms spread widely, wraps them around You, and then You feel more and more of them snaking here and there. He missed You and can't imagine not exposing his longing for You to You.

He tries to do his best in Your relationship, he really does, but his anxiety hidden under the veneer of pride tells him he isn't enough for You, so talk to him about that, learn him how to cope with feelings and not be ashamed of them; he'll be more than thankful, nothing solves problems better than honest conversation.

Moreover, after a hard "psychology session", he enjoys sharing a hot, steamy shower with You.

He rests his forehead against Yours and closes his eyes; now You can see him as himself, no pretending, no fake confidence, no armor, just his bare body, naked mind and boiling water streaming down Your chests and backs.

Bangalore:

This woman. She is tough. She has no weak spots... Apart from You.

She casually looks as if she was ready for murder, but when she looks at You, she immediately softens.

You're like pain killers to her; You calm her down in split seconds and it's amazing to watch her features soothe, one of the corners of her lips travel up in a delicate, hardly noticeable smile.

She isn't an affectionate kind of person, especially in front of the others, but she is more than glad to receive affection from You.

She gives the best bear hugs and let me tell You, the feeling of the warmth of her muscular, womanly body, the plush of her breasts and hard abdomen... It's irreplacable.

She doesn't say it out loud then, but You can perfectly sense how devoted to Your relationship she is, she confesses her loyalty to You with her whole form embracing Your own.

One of her favourite moments during the day are early mornings; she usually wakes up just before dawn while You're still deeply asleep. Then, she can adore Your peaceful face looming up from under the duvet and graced with first golden rays of sunlight finding their way to Your bedroom through the window.

Before she leaves, careful not to wake You up, she watches You for a while and tries to picture this beautiful view in her mind precisely and keep there for the rest of the day.

She kisses Your forehead gently and silently gets out of the room, one last time glancing at You behind her back from above her shoulder before shutting the door.

She's keen to talk to You about everything and she's beyond recognition then; You can talk to her about everything and nothing, starting from Your own serious issues and ending on exchanging some girlish gossips.

Whatever topic You throw on her, she's always willing to not only listen to You, but also actively partakes in the conversation.

During such talks, she really does enjoy having her arm wrapped around You whilst You're resting against her on the couch.

She'll most probably be caressing Your shoulder with her thumb without even realizing it.

Your laugh causes her to laugh widely, which is a wonderful chain reaction as she rarely smiles on her own.

I must mention jealousy here; Bang hates seeing someone flirting with You.

Her face lines turn even sharper, she grits her teeth not to let herself lose control over her emotions.

But if she has enough, she'll most certainly approach You two steadily, pull You to her side and glare deadly at the motherfucker daring to flirt with You as if she was looking at a pathetic pile of horseshit.

It's likely she'll warn them to fuck off before she shoves a granade up their ass.

I know this is amusing and boosts Your ego, but spare her nerves, she just can't lose You and wants to be the best version of herself for You.

Pathinder:

Cinnamon roll made of metal.

He loves everyone as friends and because, unlike the most of the others, You actually reciprocate his affection, he WORSHIPS You in particular.

He's a hug-person, that's why often he forgots how painful it is when he wraps his arms a little too tightly around You.

When You politely tell him to let You go and state why, he's a trembling mess.

He asks You questions whether he harmed You, made You uncomfortable and if You're okay. Reassure him everything's okay, please, all he wants is to make You feel loved and appreciated.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry, friend... Can I get a second chance? I promise I won't be uncomfortable anymore" 👉👈

You can't say "no" to him; he hugs You much more tenderly, he's calculating his every move when he slowly embraces You again.

He may be boxy and angular, but the metal he's build of is pleasantly warm, or at least it seems like it because of Path in general.

You press Your hands to his back and cheek to his chest, and when You open Your eyes, pink light radiating from the screen on his torso blinds You as a large, smiley face with heart-eyes appears on it.

This causes You to giggle, and then him; You two could stay like this for eons, him resting his head on the tip of Yours and just, laughing innocently like little children.

He's the number one comforter, this needs to be said. Whenever You feel blue, Path emerges near You out of nowhere and is ready to give his best to You.

His arm is instantly around You; he takes You somewhere peaceful and quiet, probably to Your bedroom, and sits You gently on the edge of Your bed.

He kneels in front of You, palming Your hands on Your knees and looking up at Your sorrow face.

"Hey, I don't like it when You're sad, it makes me sad, too. Path is here for You, and will be even when they break me apart. That'd be even better! There would be more of me to listen to You!"

His positivity, even in the darkest of times, is able to lift anyone's spirits in a flash.

While venting Your disappointment, anger, helplessness and other damaging emotions on him, he listens to You letting Your words sink in his mind and brushes single tears flowing down Your swollen cheeks every now and then with his thumb.

Surprisingly, he's more gentle than any man build of flesh, You wouldn't recognize whether it's the touch of his robotic fingers or soft human hands if You didn't know him.

He a l w a y s manages to make You laugh somehow, You actually don't even notice when Your mood changes from gloomy and suicidal to amused and happy.

"Low-five?" he asks, still crouching and showing his flat hand to You, so that You can give him low "high-five" and begin Your day again, but better.

Octane:

Speedy boi only You are able to slow down.

There's a significant spark of rivarly burning between You and keeping Your relationship sufficiently heated.

And that's why You enjoy competitive video games; You sit on the couch next to each other and follow the flying controllers in Your hands.

At some point You begin to interrupt each other's playing not only virtually, but in real life as well.

He nudges You with his elbow and You give it back by shoving Your smaller form towards him with the maximal strength.

Finally, You put the game aside and You start wrestling; it looks a little brutal, but You both know it's just fun.

You roll down from the sofa and fall on the floor, Your limbs tangled together, You two laughing and screaming at each other; an adorable picture of the pair of energetic fireballs.

You don't even care whether anybody remarks on Your playful joshing, at most You just stop for few seconds and simultaneously snap at them.

Then, You continue what You've started and what I must state here is the fact that Octane isn't merciful. He comes up with an idea of tickling.

You can't even attempt to grab his hand and stop him, he is already faster than You and he knows EXACTLY where to touch You to make You double up with laughter.

Only when he pins You to the ground by Your wrists and You officially give up, he lets You go, proud of his success.

He loves sneaking behind You and picking You up randomly during the day, making You shriek and swear in surprise.

He loves it when You swear at him in spanish, especially if it's him who taught You his native language.

You sometimes do this on purpose just to see him staring at You blankly.

He's also more than glad to give You piggyback; having You pressed against his back and giggle in his ear is pure bliss, what man wouldn't love that?

He may start spinning around or run with You on his back so be prepared, he's unpredictable, especially when excited, even without drugs.

Last, but not least, if You manage to somehow calm him down and sit him still, when You're snuggling against his side, he gets flustered by the view of Your leg caressingly sliding up and down his prosthesis.

"Ah, hermosa, eres mi mejor droga."

Fuse:

The daddiest daddy among all the daddies in the world. Lucky You!

He's the type of man loyal to You to the grave and he's more than pleased to show it; he rarely leaves Your side, places his hand on Your hip or loosely embraces Your shoulders with his arm.

He subtly establishes the boundaries of reciprocal contact between You and someone who might be potentially interested in You, but he's not possessive. This man doesn't lack finesse if he wants.

You kindle the flame of artistic creativity within him, thus he writes songs for You; he loves singing them and playing his guitar for You later.

He may forget to go on with the lyrics if You start swaying to the rhythm of his music. He knows You do this to purposely tease him and test his patience, but he's prepared for losing all of his attention divisibilty.

Focusing his gaze on Your effortless, wanton moves is enough to make his day.

When he's done playing, he expects appreciation with words ("Aaand? How was it, m'lady, eeh?") and with actions (he usually pokes his cheek and awaits well-deserved kiss).

For the first time, You fell for his little trick he pulled on You; when You were going to place a kiss on his cheek in rewarding gesture, he lightly grabs You by Your chin and makes You kiss him on his lips.

After that incident, every time You reward him, You intentionally "fall" for these tricks of his or it's You who pulls him for the kiss first.

You two giggle into each other's mouths and wordlessly swear to make that little game Your own ritual.

Often, when the situation gets heated, he finds his way to Your neck and the touch of his rough mustache on Your delicate skin sends shivers down Your spine - he loves it when Your throat vibrates because of Your sirenic chuckle.

You adore joking together; he's the master of pun and dad jokes, hence You two sometimes get trapped in a vicious circle of laughter.

Then, You just lean against each other and laugh so hard tears start flowing down Your cheeks, especially when each of You tell new jokes, funnier and funnier than previous ones.

Of course, You two enjoy a good, old game of poker, too; You sit opposite each other on the bed, legs crossed, and try so hard not to snort while glancing at each other's pokerfaces.

He attempts to distract You, make You laugh, cheat and make this card game the most ridiculous it only can be and You hit back, obviously.

If he wins, You throw cards in the air and make him pay for it; You jump on him, but he's quick to incapacitate You by lying his bulky body on Yours so that You have to haul Yourself up from under him to catch a breath.

If You win, it pretty much ends in the same way.

[bookishofalder]

Night Changes [Nine]

Summary: Will Poe and the reader be reunited?

Warnings: Angst, character deaths, language, smut. TW-pregnancy, birth, infant, breastfeeding. WC—+10k

A/N-At the end.

“Rey,” At the sound of her name, Rey paused and glanced around to see Leia standing next to the Falcon, waiting. Meeting her kind eyes, she hoped Leia wasn’t going to try and convince her not to go again; she’d already told the wise General that she had to find the Wayfinder, that she needed to complete Luke’s mission and get to Exegol. Finn, Poe, Chewbacca and C3PO were already on board, waiting for her to join them; it was time to leave.

“Leia?” She stepped toward her mentor, who looked around cautiously before lowering her voice to speak to Rey.

“I need to give you something.”

Rey frowned, confused, glancing down to Leia’s empty, “What do you mean?”

Leia sighed, her eyes tired. Rey understood—she felt exhausted too. “I can’t explain it. And you must keep it to yourself until the moment is right—trust me, you’ll know when that is—if you do end up needing to,” Leia took hold of Rey’s hands, squeezing, “I’ll show you, but you must keep it tucked away no matter what.”

Seeing the seriousness in Leia’’s eyes, Rey swallowed and nodded, “Of course. I promise.” She returned the pressure to the General’s hands and watched as she reached up and pressed her fingers gently to Rey’s temple.

In a brief flash, Rey saw enough to understand.

As he was pushed roughly through the doors to an open hangar with Finn and Chewie, Poe couldn’t help but reflect on his life over the past year and a half. He’d had a lot of close calls, even been captured, but this was the first time he felt like he was going to die, as General Hux and a couple of Storm Troopers stood behind them, ready to execute Poe and his friends. He hoped Rey was able to escape, at least.

And Leia could get the news of his death to you. She would make sure you were taken care of for the rest of your life. He had no regrets, no, not with you on some planet far away from all of this and free to raise the baby. He’d done everything he could, fought as hard as possible, but that didn’t mean he was guaranteed to live.

Poe tried to picture what the baby might look like, whether they got your smile, his hair. Pain shot through his broken heart that his child would grow with only pictures of him, no memories. He glanced up at Finn, eager to distract himself; he could hear Hux speaking to the Troopers and ignored them.

“What were you going to tell Rey before?”

Finn hesitated, appearing uncomfortable, “You still on that?”

“Oh,” Poe frowned at him incredulously, “Is this a bad time?” He just wanted to hear Finn admit aloud he had feelings for Rey. He could sense it between them, especially recently, and thought that they made a good pair. In another life he could see himself with them, you at his side, enjoying a late-night dinner, laughing around a table while the kids pretended to be asleep in their bedrooms.

Nodding, Finn gave Poe a wary look, “It sort of is?” Poe scoffed, shaking his head.

“So I tell you my deepest secrets but right before we’re about to die you’re locking down on yours?” Poe hadn’t just told Finn about you; after he’d confessed your existence, he hadn’t been able to stop sharing with his friend, who listened attentively as Poe described his life with you, how he’d love you since he was ten years old.

Finn blanched, and after a pause opened his mouth to respond, only shots went off behind them and they flinched. Poe expected to feel pain, or perhaps nothing if the shot was well placed, only they heard thuds behind them and instead glanced around to find Hux holding a blaster, eyes on the dead Troopers momentarily before he looked up at them.

“I’m the spy.” He claimed, a dark smirk on his twisted face, and Poe felt a rush of confused relief—he and Finn exchanged looks as Chewie groaned.

“What?” He exclaimed at the same moment Finn yelled, “You?” In disbelief.

Hux ignored them, “We don’t have much time, we have to go.” He gestured for them to follow and after a brief pause, they hastened to climb to their feet.

Poe hurried forward and grabbed a few of the fallen Troopers blasters, passing them to Finn and Chewie before taking one for himself. His blood was rushing, the feeling of being alive still—of getting lucky, again—made him feel powerful like you were out there somewhere sending him the strength and good fortune that he needed at every turn.

As they ran behind Hux, Finn touched Poe’s arm. “That was too close—made me realize, do you have a way of her knowing if something happens to you?”

Poe nodded, “Leia will tell her.”

But he sincerely hoped that would never happen, that you wouldn’t be standing in the doorway of some home he’d never know and hear the words that he had died, that he was never coming for you. The idea of you being in that kind of pain was something he couldn’t fully fathom, and it only renewed his determination to get to the Wayfinder and finish this fight once and for all.

11 Months Ago

“Doesn’t matter how many galaxies separate us, I will always be with you, and you with me. I promise.”

Memories of your life with Poe had a way of burrowing into the forefront of your mind when you least expect them; when you let your guard down. The emotional goodbye all those years before, back on Yavin-4 when you were just kids—Poe leaving with Charlie to join the Resistance...it was a lifetime ago. And as much as you believed his words both then and now, it didn’t make the pain any easier to endure as you lay here without him, the Healer and Kes having left you alone with the newborn baby cradled in your arms.

You were surprised when the Healer had passed you the baby—after almost nine hours of labour—to see the tuft of dark curls on their head; Kes had remarked that Poe had come into the world with as much hair, and you’d laughed through your mixed tears of sorrow and joy and love. So they took after their dad—what a beautiful, heartbreaking thought.

Stars, you hoped Poe would meet them before long--before they grew too much. Just seeing the tiny creature, skin-to-skin with you like the Healer recommended, both made your heart feel complete while simultaneously tearing it apart. He should have been here to hold your hand, to cut the cord and press soft kisses to both of your heads and cry tears of joy from it all.

It wasn’t fair. Up until this moment you’d been able to lock back to anger and the bitter feelings over having let Poe send you away because it had been the right choice no matter what way you looked at it. But now, as you lay exhausted and bursting with love for the baby you made with your soulmate, you let some of that anger free through wretched sobs because it wasn’t fair that he had to miss this, that for all you knew he could be...

You stopped yourself from thinking of the worst-case scenario. It wasn’t helpful to imagine what he was doing now, where he was, if he was okay. And you’d promised him you would keep him alive in your mind unless you knew for certain that he wasn’t.

A small whine met your ears and you glanced down at the baby, smiling at their pinched expression as they struggled to adapt to their new surroundings. “It’s okay, little bug. Mama is here, shhh...” You cooed softly, running a lone finger over their hair in a gentle motion. You watched their eyes flutter beneath the lids, enjoying the feel of your touch, and then froze when they opened their eyes for the first time to look up at you blearily.

Stars, they had Poe’s eyes.

Now - 35 ABY - Battle of Exegol

When Temmin died, Poe truly began to lose all hope.

Before watching another friend’s x-wing get shot down, he’d managed to scrape the bottom of the barrel for that hope, for any remaining belief that they could win this fucking fight. That everything he’d ever sacrificed was worth it because now they had arrived and it was time to put an end to it all—but then he was screaming for Snap to watch his six, heard the anguished cry through the comm when he was hit, the searing memory of losing Charlie so many years before in the same way making his stomach churn, and he just felt so...

So fucking hopeless.

Leia was gone. The Resistance was down to pathetic numbers, and he had finally lost all hope.

Shit, if he was being honest with himself he’d been running through these last few days with urgency and adrenaline that prevented him from overthinking the odds, a blissful denial that anything other than winning could occur. When he’d told the remaining fighters of the Resistance that this was their final stand, that help would come, he had meant it as much as he’d hoped it was true.

“Help will come if they know there is hope,” Poe had stared around at his friends, at their doubting expressions, “They will. We have friends out there. The First Order wins by making us think we’re alone. We’re not alone—good people will fight if we lead them.”

In all of the time that had passed between when he’d said goodbye to you to this moment, he’d never once regretted sending you far away from the fight. Even here, with Rebel, after Rebel dying and a fleet of Destroyer’s that would wipe out entire planets unless they bent to the will of the First Order, he felt a sense of peace knowing that you were safely tucked away well beyond the reaches of their tyranny. His child would grow up with a mother who could share stories of Poe’s life, his love for you, for them.

It still stung, though, knowing he would never see you again. That he would die fighting and his last thoughts would be of you, of his little family, and you would have no idea. He hoped when you did find out the Resistance was done, the fight was lost, that you didn’t take it too hard—didn’t blame yourself in any way. He wanted you to be mad at him, not at yourself, not after everything you’d done for him, everything you had sacrificed.

He almost could have laughed, bleak as the outlook now was it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did that no aid had arrived, that Lando and Chewie flew to the inner core worlds for nothing—clearly, no one was coming. Just like the Battle of Crait, they were alone; only now Leia was gone and Poe was the General, he was the one everyone was screaming for orders from through the comms, he was the one that had to say it aloud.

“My friends,” His voice was scratchy, choked up, as his mind played flashes of his life—of you, of losing Charlie, marrying you, losing Leia. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—”

He would die taking down as many enemies as he could. He would tell the rest of them to either do the same or flee—he wouldn’t blame them if they fled. Poe could almost imagine himself doing it, but the idea of finding you somewhere out there and saying he’d left at the final hour made bile heave in his stomach. He would never abandon the fight, not when you had wanted to stay as much as you had, but left for the baby.

As he struggled to pull in a breath to speak, he recalled the last time he saw you.

It was late, the base quiet and most of the Rebels sleeping, all except for Poe and you—it was time to say goodbye, under the cover of darkness. He wasn’t allowed to follow you into the hangar because he couldn’t know even the most minute details of how you got off-planet. Still, he would walk you as far as he could, and savour every final second together.

“I changed my mind, I’m not leaving you.” You whispered, halting in the hallway and turning to face Poe. One hand ran absentmindedly over your swollen stomach, the other reached up to grip his forearm. Your lower lip trembled, and he felt every word you wanted to say to convince him you should stay.

Poe took a shuddering breath, “Sweet girl, you aren’t leaving me—stop thinking about it like that. You’re saving our baby, keeping them safe, remember?” He tried to keep the desperate plea minimal in his voice because it had been like this for the last few days. One moment you were reluctantly prepared to leave, the next you were begging to stay. He didn’t know how much more of this torture he could stand before he broke down and let you stay.

Your pretty eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed, just like his. You’d each cried more than enough to last a lifetime, and although heat pricked the corners of his eyes now he knew no more tears could come until you were out of sight. He would cry in his bed alone tonight, and probably every night until he saw you again, but right now he needed to show strength.

You stepped into his arms and Poe hugged you close, your body angling your stomach so that it wasn’t pressed between you both. “I don’t...Poe, I don’t think I’m strong enough to do this.”

Poe stared at you in disbelief, “Not strong enough? Are you kidding me?” He brought his hands to cup your cheeks gently, “You are the strongest person I know. What you are about to do for us, for our baby, is the most incredible sacrifice anyone could make. Everything you are doing and have done in your life only proves how amazing and strong you are—no matter what happens, please never forget that, okay?”

You whimpered sadly, nodding your head, and Poe shakily pressed his lips to yours, capturing you for one last kiss. It was soft and for one brief moment, he let himself imagine it was a greeting, though in truth it only made his heart fracture further rather than make him feel any better.

“Whatever happens, Poe, we’ll be okay...so don’t worry about us, focus on yourself,” You reached up and pushed your hands into his curls, savouring them one final time. “Promise me you’ll never stop fighting, flyboy.”

Poe smiled sadly down at you, his eyes drinking in every detail of your beautiful face, “Never, sweetheart, I promise I’ll never stop fighting. And this isn’t goodbye,” He pressed one hand gently against your belly, “It’s just a...see you soon. Once I’m finished blowing shit up in my x-wing.”

You laughed, tears streaming down your face and then pulled Poe against you again, his hand stuck between your bodies as you crushed him in a strong embrace. “I love you, Poe.”

“Oh, sweet girl, I love you too.”

35 ABY - Sorgan

You missed flying, though the place Leia had sent Kes and you to barely had any air traffic, the planet much too out of the way. Still, it had a sky that night or day you’d find yourself gazing into, wishing you could feel that weightlessness that came with blasting off from base, that you would look to your left and see Poe in his ship, the stars stretching beyond.

Poe. Stars, you missed him more and more every day. You had trouble believing it had been over a year, that the baby was now eleven months old and starting to try and walk and they’d never met their father. Though each time this knowledge became too heavy, you reminded yourself of the peaceful life you were living on Sorgan and how that had been the whole point of you leaving the fight—for the baby, for safety.

Sorgan was so far removed that no news reached the planet from the middle and core rims, something you’re sure Leia knew when she decided to send you here. You sometimes felt suffocated, not knowing a single thing about what was happening out there, but then you knew if you did know, it might make it harder to stay. And you couldn’t leave, you knew that for certain the moment you’d laid eyes on your newborn when the Healer had set the baby in your arms, face pinched as shrieks filled the air until they’d calmed, skin to skin with you.

You had gazed at the beautiful baby and you knew that you could never bear to part from them, no matter what you did or didn’t know about the war. Nonetheless, it was perhaps infinitesimally easier to be ignorant and allow yourself to imagine that it was all going fine.

You were living in a small but cozy yurt on the edge of a fishing village. The simple space comprised of the main room that hosted the barebones kitchen with a big table to eat at and a couple of comfortable sitting chairs, and had two rooms, one on either side, for sleeping quarters. The baby was in a crib at the end of your bed, where you were laying now. Very much awake even as they slept soundly.

Or so you thought until you were jerking from your thoughts at their sudden cries. You waited for a minute, the soft cries more whimpers than anything, and hoped the baby would soothe themselves back to sleep. They hiccuped, however, and started to cry again from the jolt. You sighed before sliding out from under the covers and padding softly to their crib.

“Your eyes aren’t even open,” You accused, grinning at the baby with the scrunched face, all the drama of their dad and only eleven months. Carefully lifting them, you tucked the baby against your chest and began to stroll slow circles around the bedroom, swaying as you went. “You know, when your dad finally comes and meets you he’s taking night duty over. I don’t care how many wars he wins.”

The little coo you got in response was enough to tell you Bug was on your side.

Though every day apart from Poe was painful, you did savour the good moments with the little piece of your heart that remained, beating for the baby you held now. And on this peaceful, sleepy planet most days had plenty of good—even if you were sad. Kes was an incredibly positive man, and like his son knew how to read you well, often stepping in to whisk the baby away whenever he sensed your sorrow was too hard to contain. You tried to spend all of the energy you had smiling for Bug because that was the only thing you could really do.

The guilt was heavy. You knew Poe would be devastated if he knew just how much you carried, living so comfortably—if a little rustic—on Sorgan all while he spent every day fighting to stay alive. But it was easier to focus on that guilt, to hate yourself than it was to be afraid of losing him—never seeing him again. Stars, the guilt was practically a salve in comparison to that.

Some days though, it was harder to keep the frame of mind that staying was the only option. As the baby grew, the guilt began to feed a steady flow of ‘what if’s’ into your mind. It was getting harder to ignore the sense of it. When Bug started to mix food into their diet, weaning partially from your breastmilk, you told yourself you could wean them completely, earlier than you planned but then you could hire a ship to take you back to D’Qar...

Only, you didn’t even know if D’Qar was still safe anymore.

It was a circular battle you couldn’t win no matter the choice you made, though you always chose the baby, chose to stay because you promised Poe you would. He’d told you that you were making the greatest sacrifice, and he had been right—he knew he could distract himself with the fight, and that you would only be able to distract yourself so much with raising the baby. He understood you would spend every day apart wishing you could rejoin him.

A soft snore pulled you from your thoughts and you glanced down at the baby to find them fast asleep again. You smiled fondly, that little chunk of your heart giving a happy beat as you settled them back into their crib and ran your fingers gently over their soft cheek.

“Goodnight, Charlie, my sweet girl.” You whispered heart clenching at the sight of her chubby cheeks relaxed in sleep.

Deciding a cool drink was needed, you slipped from the quiet of your room and into the main extension of the yurt you shared with Kes. A single lamp lit the small space dimly, and you helped yourself to a glass of water and took a seat at the table. You weren’t sure how long you were sitting there before Kes appeared and sat down across from you with a knowing smile on his face.

He sat silently for a few minutes as you sipped at your drink, speaking only once you’d finished. “Can’t sleep again?”

You sighed, running your hands through your hair, exhaustion setting deep in your bones.

“I keep having the same dream, Kes. Poe and Bug, back home on Yavin-4. Only, the beach is in colour but they aren’t.” You choked up, glancing toward your room, where you could see the crib through the doorway.

Kes followed your gaze, “Bug will meet him someday. I know it. You need to believe that too, kiddo, and you really need to get some sleep.” He patted your hand gently before standing and you watched him make his way to his room, pulling the curtain across his doorway as he did.

Taking a deep breath, you pressed your palms into your closed eyes, willing your mind to settle so that you could go to bed and get some rest. You just don’t think you could stand to have the dream again—always waking up and wondering, would you ever really get to see Poe again? Would he ever get to meet his little girl?

When you climbed back beneath the cool sheets of your bed, you fell into light sleep, your dreams the same as ever—Poe playing with Charlie on the beach back home on Yavin-4 while you sat on a blanket on the sand watching, laughing as they splashed each other. Your family, together again.

35 ABY - Battle of Exegol

As wretched as it was to think of never seeing you again, this wasn’t the first time he thought he was going to die. At least here, in his x-wing, he could take out as many enemies as he could before going out in a blaze—just like...like Charlie.

“I thought we had a shot. There’s too many of them.” He finished speaking to the remaining fighters in resignation, his eyes heavy—he was tired, so tired. Enough so that when a new, familiar voice came clear over the comms, he sat up straighter before his mind even registered what they were saying.

“Oh, but there’s more of us, Poe. There’s more of us.”

Poe spun his ship around, his heart frozen in his chest, flew up over the wreckage of the one First Order ship they’d so far managed to take out—and there it was.

Lando and Chewie were back; he could see the Falcon, and behind them were thousands and thousands of ships. And still, more coming as he looked, pulling out of light speed to fall in with the Falcon. Poe could hardly believe his eyes, but right before him, he couldn’t doubt for a moment that his friends had come back and they...

They had brought hope.

You sat with your toes in the water, the sun shining on your back warm and comforting. Charlie splashed around happily, her water suit covering her arms and legs, joining her cute straw hat in protecting her from too much sunlight. She kept looking from the water around her chubby legs to the flowing stream behind her-as if dissatisfied with the ankle-deep water you had set her in.

“You can go in the river in a few years,” You cocked a brow at her as she gave you a pouty look. “You’re very cute, but mama says no.”

With a resigned sigh that seemed far too mature for her, she went back to splashing the water and you slid your toes towards her, wriggling them so that she tried to catch hold. When she managed to grab your big toe, you laughed and she giggled brightly, her gleeful peals filling the quiet around you.

It was a beautiful day on Sorgan. They all were, really, even the rainy days, the ones that kept you inside the yurt listening to the rain while Kes tried to teach Charlie how to crawl and you laughed as you watched them. But the sunny days were the best, the ones you could fill with endless activity to distract yourself as much as to tire out the baby. Because when your mind settled, it tended to stray off into dark thoughts.

Maybe Poe was gone.

Maybe he would never come to find you here, your little family would be memories of Poe as you raised his little girl with Kes instead. The weight of that responsibility, of ensuring she had a happy life all while missing a whole section of your heart for the rest of your own was heavy so you tried not to overthink it.

You channelled that energy into Charlie, focused on her and you think you were doing a good job of keeping her safe and content. You showed Charlie pictures of Poe every day, wanting to ensure she knew his face even if she would never get to see it in person. She’d been looking at him since she was just a little bean, and you repeated his name, ‘dada’, every time as well. She wasn’t speaking yet, but it couldn’t hurt to keep the association in her mind when she was ready to start talking.

Charlie stopped splashing and glanced up at you with wide eyes, her expression familiar. “Hungry, Bug?” You reached out for her and lifted her from the water, carefully standing and wading to the grassy spot you’d set your picnic up.

You dried her off first, then let her crawl on the blanket while you dry your feet before following her to sit. She beelined for you as you untied your tunic, lowering one side and easing your breast out, grateful your nanny droid had provided you with a soothing balm for your aching nipples. Breastfeeding was your favourite way to bond with her, but Stars, it came at a cost.

You settled Charlie against you and watched as she closed her eyes, suckling softly. You adjusted the tunic to protect her from the sun and fell into a quiet state as she fed. It was sometime later that the sound of a large ship captured your attention, breaking you from your meditation.

Charlie was asleep against you, her face still pressed to your breast, and didn’t stir as the ship, far in the distance, flew past. You wondered briefly, a jolt of electricity coursing through you wondering if it was Poe come to find you both. But when the ship flew only further away, you pushed the idea from your mind. It was probably a shipment from the core worlds going to the markets. You made a mental note to plan a trip there for the next day—if there were fresh supplies, you might find a treat or two. Get something nice for Kes, perhaps.

Feeling exhaustion hit, you napped with Charlie there on the river's edge. You had nothing to fear on Sorgan, and in fact, many of the neighbours in your village were around, not too close but enough so that if needed they could come and wake you. You kept Charlie protected from the sun but let it shine on you, the brightness no match for the gentle lull of sleep, the soft trickle of the river.

When you woke an hour later, you felt more rested than you had in some time, pausing as you sat up to stretch the kinks from your body. Charlie was wriggling and you knew she probably needed to be changed. “Time to go home?” You asked her with a grin, and she made a sour little face in response that made you laugh. You loved how expressive she was, how even though she wasn’t talking yet she managed to let you know how she felt.

With practiced movements, you packed up the little picnic, hoisted your bag over one shoulder before lifting her to sit against your hip, and made the short walk home. Kes was sitting outside the yurt when you arrived, reading, though he set the book down at the sound of your footsteps and grinned widely when Charlie cooed for him.

“Did you have a nice time, ladies?”

You smiled, “She sure loves the water, I should start taking her in the river, see how she likes floating,” Kes took her from you carefully—Charlie made a face and you both laughed, “Sorry, Kes, I think she needs to be changed.”

“No worries, you relax for a bit and I’ll deal with diaper duty.”

Nodding gratefully, you set your bag down on the chair Kes had vacated and turned to gaze out at the grassy lawn. It was a simple home, certainly not where you would have planned to raise a baby, but it was peaceful. You start to think about the next steps, how long you would stay on Sorgan before leaving. You would go ahead first, find out if it was safe, and then you wanted to return to Yavin-4. Not for a few years, although you’d like to leave before Charlie got too old and she was too attached to this place.

You stepped away from the front of the yurt to stare out over the fields. First towards the villagers as they came in from working for the day in the waters, ready to put their feet up before making dinner, and then you turned toward the river and watched the water for a while, your arms crossed, listening distantly to Charlie and Kes making each other laugh inside.

When a voice broke through your thoughts a short while later, you started in surprise before spinning, recognition of the honey-warm tone slamming into you.

“You dreaming about me, sweet girl?”

“Rey, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you—“

Rey cut Poe off, gripping his arm with a soft smile, “It was Leia, Poe. She found me before we left Ajan Kloss, she put the coordinates in my head, just in case she didn’t make it.”

Poe hugged her quickly, “Still, without you, I don’t know how long it would have taken me to find her here.” He hurried to the ramp, hitting the button to lower it with excitement mounting within him by the second.

“What do you want us to do?” Finn was standing next to Poe as he waited for the ramp to lower onto the grass.

Poe glanced up at his friend, “I have to go alone, can you wait for me here? I’ll come for you—or send for you—if I find them.” He adjusted his jacket as he spoke, nerves slicing his stomach to pieces. He hadn’t felt this close to you in almost a year and a half.

Finn nodded, a small smile on his lips, “We’ll wait. She has to be here, Poe, you’ll find her.” He clapped Poe on the shoulder encouragingly and he swallowed, unable to form a response so he just returned a half-smile and then clambered down the ramp.

Sorgan was a quiet, sleepy planet full of green. If you were here, the idea that you spent all this time in such a place was comforting to Poe—you would have been able to enjoy the land, be outside, not cooped up somewhere.

He was in a small village, and the market that lined the street was bustling with after-work crowds that were in the tens, the people all smiling at one another in a way that revealed how kind of a place it was. He wandered for a few minutes until he spotted a stand that carried medical supplies and approached the vendor, a friendly-looking older woman who grinned at him.

“Hello, stranger. How can I help you?”

Poe held up the photo he had of you, one he’d taken not long after finding out you were pregnant, your hand on your small belly and a big smile on your face. “Have you seen this woman, ma’am?”

“That’s Mrs. Carstairs,” She responded with a small nod. Poe felt his insides inflate, his excitement now ready to burst forth in a shout of glee that he had to bite back. He took a steadying breath, realizing that you had used your mother’s maiden name as your cover.

He grinned, “Yes, (y/n)—“

The woman cut him off, her eyes widening, “Oh now, you must be the husband. Now that I look at you, the baby has your eyes.”

Poe’s stomach turned over at this information. The baby had his eyes? “That’s me, do you know where I can find her, please?” He made to pull out some credits to pass over to the woman for her trouble, only she reached over to take his hand gently and shook her head, smiling.

“No need for that, dear,” She jerked her head in the direction of a nearby road that split off from the village, “Just follow that, about twenty minutes you’ll come across a fishing village. She lives right off that road on the outskirts of the village.”

Saying his thanks quickly, Poe ran faster than he had in his life in the direction she had indicated.

When he finally saw the little yurt along the main road, he breathed a sigh of relief. The sun was lowering in the sky and casting a golden glow over the ponds, fields and the nearby river. It was beautiful, and as he passed the fishing village he smiled at the villagers, who gave him curious looks before returning friendly smiles. He slowed to catch his breath, his eyes moving back to the yurt, now much closer. And then his gaze snapped to a figure standing not far from the door, gazing out in the direction of the river.

It was you.

His heart about ripped out of his chest at the sight of you alive and well. The closer he got he could see how you’d barely changed—your skin had seen more sunlight, your hair was longer, and he could see the soft curves of your figure that motherhood had brought on. He watched you for a moment, standing a few feet back, and he could hear his dad inside the yurt making a baby laugh.

Making his baby laugh.

“You dreaming about me, sweet girl?”

You spun around so fast you were a blur, though Poe didn’t miss the way your hand twitched toward the blaster at your hip before your eyes landed on him. Seeing this only made him grin more broadly, but nerves for the reunion kept him rooted to the spot. What if you were angry with him? The thought hadn’t occurred to him before this, but perhaps you-

“POE!” You cried out, and then you were running forward and jumping into his arms and it was everything he’d dreamed of and more. He caught you and held you close as you both fell to your knees in the grass, and Poe let himself get lost in the moment, sobs pulling from deep within.

He hugged you as tight as he could and then started to pepper your face with kisses, “Oh my sweet girl, I missed you. Stars above, I missed you,” He murmured, his eyes closing as your fingers sunk into his curls and tugged him, your lips crashing to his in a desperate kiss that felt exactly like coming home.

“I was so afraid you wouldn’t be able to find us,” You whimpered after pulling back, your body still pressed against his, “I can’t believe you’re finally here...”

Poe shook his head, “Leia had a backup plan all along. Stars, you are so beautiful,” He swept his fingers over your cheeks, getting a good look at you now and seeing how well cared for you looked; Sorgan had been good to you. “I’m here now. It’s over, we’re safe now.”

You released your hold on his head to run your hands over your face, wiping at your tears, “Poe, the baby’s just inside, I—”

Poe and you both turned your heads at the same time at the sound of Kes coming out the door, his excited shout of glee making you both grin wider. He was holding the baby in his arms, and they looked around at the sound of your laugh, eyes just like Poe’s wide and curious—what a beautiful sight.

For a beat, the baby just stared at him, and then as Kes moved closer, a smile—a little smirk just like yours—appeared.

“Dada!”

Kes froze and glanced down at the baby in surprise, and Poe heard you gasp, one of your hands landing on his arm and squeezing excitedly. “That’s right Charlie, sweet girl, this is your Dada!”

Poe couldn’t stop staring at the baby, who hadn’t looked away from him either even as you spoke to her. She made grabby hands then, reaching for him and he tentatively raised his hands. His dad closed the gap between them and lowered the baby and he took hold of her cautiously, words caught in his throat and his heart beating fast.

She was a solid thing, sturdy in his arms and cooing happily as she gazed up in wonder at Poe. She was stunning, her eyes honey-brown and lined with thick, long lashes just like yours. Her skin was soft, and she was chunky, her baby rolls making him smile wider. After a minute, she spoke again, “Dada!” She raised her little fists towards his scruffy jaw before glancing at you.

Poe followed her gaze, “How does she know me?” He breathed, his heart in his throat.

Your watery smile only grew, “Showed her your picture every day. Wanted her to know her daddy, even if he...he couldn’t be with us,” You shuffled closer, one arm securing itself around Charlie and grasping Kes’ arm. “That was her first word, Poe. She said it just for you.”

Tears stinging at his eyes, Poe sat huddled with his family, clutching the baby closer with one arm, the other around your shoulders. His dad had thrown his arms around both you and Poe and was lamenting about how good it was to see him while Charlie cooed happily in his arms.

The moment was better than he’d ever dreamed.

Poe couldn’t put Charlie down. He carried her around for the rest of the evening, following you into the comfortable yurt you had called home all this time, one hand always on you, keeping you close.

Dad was making dinner and Poe enjoyed the banter you had, the routine of living together clearly having established itself long ago. He felt a jolt of gratitude for his dad dropping everything on Yavin-4 to take care of you and Charlie all this time.

He ate with one hand, relinquishing his hold on you but tugging you into his side before eating, his eyes constantly drinking in every expression on the baby’s face. He hadn’t realized how in love he would be so instantly, and certainly had not expected Charlie to adore him just as much—he’d thought the baby would be shy around him, maybe cry when he held them. But you had ensured she knew his face, his name—just another thing you did for him.

Poe was never going to be able to thank you enough for everything you had done.

“Poe?” Your soft voice broke into his thoughts and he looked around at you. You gave him a tentative sort of look, “Where is BB8?”

His shoulders relaxed automatically, “Oh he’s on the ship I came here in...with my friends,” He grinned and you copied him, your eyes curious, “I’ll go get them tomorrow and you can meet...I have so much to tell you, sweetheart.”

Your expression softened, “We have all the time in the world now.” You reached up and stroked his jaw, the motion so familiar his eyes automatically closed and emotion swelled in his chest. Before he could reply, he felt a second, much smaller hand land on his jaw and begin to copy the movement.

He smiled, looking through his lashes to see Charlie watching you intently as she imitated you, “Clever baby,” He murmured, and Charlie lit up at the sound of his voice. He turned his head and kissed her little hand affectionately.

“She gets her brains from me,” Kes piped up, tossing a wink at you before collecting everyone’s plates. He set them in the large stone sink before glancing at his watch. “You want to put her down for the night in my room?”

As you nodded, your eyes falling from Kes to Charlie, Poe felt a flush begin to creep up his neck at the idea of being alone with you again after so much time. He wanted to hold you close with nothing separating your bodies and curl into your healing warmth. Your hand reached for his, pulling him from his thoughts, and you tipped your head toward the baby in his arms, whose eyes were blinking slowly as exhaustion set in.

“Time for bed, little Bug,” You murmured, leading Poe towards your room. The curtain across the doorway sat open, fluttering slightly in the cool evening air, and the room was dark, illuminated only by the moonlight outside and some of the filtering light from the lamps in the main room of the yurt.

Poe carried Charlie to her crib, pressing his lips gently to her forehead, “Goodnight, Charlie, I love you.” He whispered, smiling to himself when she replied with a sleepy little coo. You took her from Poe then and took a moment to show him how to put the baby down for the night.

His heart was beating wildly in his chest as he watched you soothe Charlie, your fingers brushing delicately over her cheeks until her fluttering lashes settled and a small snore confirmed she was asleep. Poe hadn’t felt so much love in such a long time, he was half convinced he wouldn’t survive all of it thrumming through him now. And Stars, he was fucking proud of you, of how good of a mother you were; you’d done an amazing job raising Charlie so far, and he briefly worried about how he would ever be able to compare to you; if he could be as good of a parent as you were.

Once you had Charlie tucked in, you pushed the crib silently into Kes’ room, then wandered over to an armchair and picked up a blanket. When you turned to look up at Poe, his breath caught at the expression on your face. “Come with me, flyboy.”

Gulping, Poe followed you outside and across the grassy lawn in silence. You led him straight to a secluded spot along the riverbank, the flow of the water the only sound he could hear aside from his heartbeat. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but he suddenly felt nervous, alone with you for the first time in over a year—he’d faced down death countless times since, and yet it was this moment that was giving him pause.

He watched as you carefully spread the blanket out on the cool grass, then slipped off your shoes before stepping towards Poe with a soft smile. “Come here,” You whispered, and he closed the gap between you both eagerly. Kicking off his shoes before pulling you against him in a crushing hug, nuzzling his face into your neck, inhaling your familiar scent deeply.

He couldn’t have said who started to cry first, just that the moment he had you tight in his arms, you were both taking shuddering breaths. He let himself sob in a mixture of joy and sadness for everything, one hand cradling your head against his chest as you sniffled. “Sweet girl,” Poe drew back to look down at you after a few minutes, “Maker, I missed you. Every day was...shit, just complete shit without you.” He admitted, eyes closing automatically when you reached up to brush the tears from his face.

“I missed you too, but you’re here now, Poe. You’re here and you’re safe,” You whispered, leaning up on your tiptoes and pressing a gentle kiss to the end of his nose, “You’re safe, baby.”

He kissed you then; harsher than he’d intended, but you met him with equal intensity, your hands sliding into his hair to draw him closer, teeth clashing. The need then, to be with you, became overwhelming—he pushed your pants down frantically, then undid the tie of your wrap tunic and slid it off your shoulders, grunting when he realized you wore no chest band beneath.

You’d started undressing him, but when your hand passed over his length he brushed his fingers against your pebbled nipples in response and you hissed, body jerking away slightly. Poe’s eyes snapped open and he quickly pulled back from kissing you, “Sweetheart, did I hurt you?”

You tugged at his shirt, smiling softly, and he removed it before glancing down your body, his eyes drinking in every glorious curve, the fullness to your breasts. “Breastfeeding is hard on these,” You replied, gesturing toward your somewhat swollen nipples, “You didn’t hurt me, just need to be careful.”

Poe nodded his understanding, surveying your postpartum body with a new wild hunger he’d never before experienced. You were beautiful, always, but something about seeing your shape with its new fullness, your milk-filled breasts and soft stomach—it made him feral. With a groan, he quickly helped you to lay down on the blanket, careful to avoid your chest as he peppered kisses down your warm body, relishing in every square inch of you. “My beautiful love,” He spread your legs apart, his hand trailing down the slit of your wet heat, “Oh sweet girl, so wet for me. You’re a fucking dream.”

As much as he wanted to taste you, lick you until you couldn’t see, the need to be inside of you was too great to allow for any more time apart. Propping himself on one arm, Poe gripped your thigh, lifting it from the ground, and gently rocked his hips forward, groaning as you tightly gripped around his cock, your body needing his just as much.

“Oh fuck, Poe...”

“I know—I’ve got you,” Poe whispered, settling between your thighs, he dropped your leg and lowered his body fully over yours, careful to keep his weight on his arm. He captured your lips against his as he slowly dragged his cock back, then rutted forward, building a slow pace meant to draw out the feeling of bliss for as long as possible. “Missed you—dreamt of you every night, baby, every fucking night.”

You had one hand tangled in Poe’s curls, the other pressed into his lower back and your legs wrapped around his hips. You whimpered, “N-never leaving you again,” The words came out strained, thick with emotion even as you moaned at the feel of him moving within you, “It’s you a-and me, f-forever. Forever.” Your back arched slightly, and Poe groaned at the change in angle, your walls clamping around him harder.

“Fuck,” He felt himself getting close and quickly slid his free hand between his body and yours, slamming into you as he circled your clit tenderly. “Forever, sweet girl, I promise—cum for me, let me feel you—“

“Poe—“ You whined, your eyes fluttering as your pleasure spiked, and he felt your body go rigid beneath him as his hips stuttered—he came with you, spilling himself with a groan as you trembled and moaned, then pressing himself as deep as he could while you both came tumbling back to each other.

When Poe finally collapsed next to you, he slipped out of you carefully before tugging you into his side, pressing his lips to the crown of your head while you both caught your breath. “Still...still got it, flyboy.” You joked, giggling when Poe shifted to look down at you with a smirk.

“I was going to say the same to you.”

“Ah well, it’s busy work running around after a baby, you know. Keeps you fit.” You grinned, snuggling against Poe as the cool night air seemed to seep between you. He reached above his head, grabbing his shirt and tossing it over your upper body to protect you from getting too cold.

Once he was satisfied you were comfortable, he rolled so that he was looking down at you, your head resting on his forearm. “Sweet girl, you—I mean, Charlie is perfect. You kept her safe, raised her, taught her who I was...I can never thank you enough, but I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying.”

“Oh Poe,” You smiled, your eyes glistening as you gazed up at him with a fondness that he felt almost undeserving of, a hand cupping his cheek. “You came back to us, that’s all I could have ever asked for—you’re alive and you’re here.” You choked up, then, and Poe leaned down to press his forehead to yours, cupping your cheek softly with one hand.

You lay together for a short while; until the cold became too much. Curling up together in bed sounded almost too good to be true. “Come on, sweet girl, let’s get some sleep,” He gathered you in his arms, pausing as you grabbed at the clothing he wasn’t going to bother putting on, and carried you into the yurt, the blanket abandoned in the grass outside.

When Poe had his body pressed against yours under the comforter of the bed you’d slept in alone all this time, he kept his arms securely around you and felt peace wash over him, “Going to introduce you to some pretty special friends in the morning, and then we can plan our next steps, my love.”

With a happy little sigh, you tucked your head into his neck and fell asleep promptly, your light snores lulling him until, just at the precipice of sleep, he smiled to himself—he was home.

The first thing you noticed when you woke early the next morning was the bed next to you was empty. Your hands roamed for Poe and when you didn’t find him you sat up quickly, wondering if perhaps you had dreamt of the day prior, of him coming home...

Only, a little giggle from outside your room sounded and you heard Poe proudly declare, “Clever, just like your mama, Charlie girl.”

You hadn’t ever known happiness like this, truly. Your heart was full and repaired and you couldn’t believe how after so much time, so many years of mistakes and pain, you were married to your best friend and he was currently waiting for you to wake up while caring for your baby, the little girl who shared traits of the both of you. This felt like a dream, but it was so raw it couldn’t be anything other than real.

You sprang from bed, throwing on your robe and hurrying out to see Poe holding Charlie as he sat in the armchair, bouncing her on his knee as she giggled for him. When you paused to watch, a smile stretching over your face, he glanced up at you and his own broadened, eyes shining brightly with affection.

“Morning, mama,” His thick morning voice always sent heat through you, and the fact that he was sitting shirtless, his hard muscles flexing as he moved Charlie only doused further fuel on the fire within. He seemed to read that in your expression, his soft eyes darkening somewhat before he sent you a wink that said there’d be time for that again later.

Charlie had looked around to follow Poe’s gaze and she cooed loudly when she saw you, her hands raised towards you. You frowned, “Oh, now you want mama time? Could it be that you’re hungry?” Charlie made grabby hands as Poe laughed and you pulled her from his arms before settling into the chair next to him, easing your robe open enough for her to have access to your chest.

Settling her in for her meals was second nature to you; you knew the way she preferred to lay, how to hold her just right, that she liked to feed quietly in the mornings but at night you were allowed to rub her back and speak soothing words to her. As she began to suckle, you carefully adjusted your breast to make the angle more comfortable, then glanced up remembering that Poe was watching.

The expression on his face was stunning—he was watching you rapturously, as though the sight before him was the most beautiful he’d ever seen. You saw emotion mixed in with the awe and the adoration, and you knew he was feeling grateful he hadn’t missed something as pure as this entirely, that Charlie hadn’t grown too much.

You leaned your head back to rest and smiled at Poe warmly, “She’s on partial foods now, you can feed her yourself a little later, if you want.” You whispered, and his face brightened even more. You felt a bit like those first days after you’d joined him and your brother on D’Qar, the giddy joy of reuniting making the smiles stretch for days.

“I’d love that,” He shuffled his chair closer, resting one hand behind where you were holding Charlie, the other raising to brush over your cheek. “Does it...hurt?”

You shook your head and his look of concern relaxed, “Not really, she’s good about not biting,” Poe cringed at the thought and you giggled, “She’s a good baby. Now, you said you wanted us to meet your friends?”

He nodded, his expression softening sadly, “They’re the reason I was able to make it home to you...I have so much to tell you, but I want you to meet them first.” Poe’s eyes dropped down to watch Charlie again and you let him have a moment, recognizing he had suffered a great deal over the year and a half apart.

You let your eyes wander over his bare torso and noticed now, in the morning light, that he had some new scars, some angrier than the others. The idea of him having been hurt made your stomach sink, and you couldn’t help but lean toward him, capturing his lips against yours when he glanced up. He moaned softly at the tender kiss, petting your hair, and you let yourself sink into the moment, pulling back only when Charlie stirred.

“Where did you leave them?”

Poe gestured toward the main village, “Just outside the village, on our ship. I could go and get them—“

You shook your head, “I think a walk will do us all good. Let’s get dressed, eh Charlie?” You made a face at the baby, who was sleepily peering up at you, happy with her tummy now full, and she smiled at your expression.

Poe insisted on changing Charlie’s diaper and dressing her, so you merely stood by and watched, handing him her daytime outfit and trying not to laugh too hard as he struggled. You could see the joy in his eyes as he attempted to get her arms through the sleeves, his big hands so incredibly gentle as he worked. It took about twice as long as normal, but eventually, Charlie was ready to go and you took her from Poe, strapping her to your chest with a sarong, watching him as he dressed.

You wanted to ask about the new scars. But you were afraid when you did, it would open up the vault he was currently guarding and all of the terrible stories would come tumbling out. Enjoying this peaceful reunion for a little longer wouldn’t hurt anyone, so you resisted the urge and instead popped your head into Kes’s room to let him know where you were going.

“It was hard, not knowing anything,” You admitted quietly as you walked along with Poe, Charlie gazing around happily. The arm draped over your shoulders tightened somewhat at your words. “Leia sure picked a good place for us, though. It’s been quiet, safe.”

You glanced at him, the tension in his jaw confirming something you’d suspected since he’d arrived-after he’d mentioned it was thanks to one of his new friends that he’d been able to find you. Leia was gone, but he didn’t know how to tell you—just as much as you were avoiding asking him for details, he was reluctant to give them.

“Yeah, she knew what she was doing,” He replied softly before his eyes lit up. You followed his gaze and saw a large ship, its ramp lowered, come into view just as a familiar orange and white blur was speeding in your direction.

“Buddy!” You yelled, hurrying forward and dropping to one knee to greet BB8, one arm securing Charlie closer to ensure she didn’t get too jostled from your movements. The droid beeped and whirred excitedly and the baby began to giggle, craning her head to look at BB8. “Charlie, this is BB8, wave hi—“ You laughed as Charlie roughly flopped her chubby arm in the direction of the droid.

You could feel Poe’s hand resting lightly on the crown of your hand, and you looked up at him to speak but before you could, another voice chimed in. “Poe, man, you found them!” A handsome man with enviably smooth skin and a friendly grin was walking towards you with a pretty woman who had sad eyes next to him.

Poe helped you to stand back up, his arm securing around you as he led you forward to meet his friends. “Finn—Rey, meet my better half, (y/n), and my kid, Charlie.”

You saw the pair shoot wide-eyed looks at Poe when he said Charlie’s name, and you realized he must have told them about you, about your brother. The thought warmed your heart even further. You reached out and grasped each of their hands in turn, grinning, “It is really lovely to meet you, thank you for getting Poe back to me and Charlie safely.”

Finn smiled warmly, “Hey, he saved our asses as much as we saved his,” Poe shoved his arm playfully, laughing. Rey was quiet, you noticed, gazing at the baby thoughtfully. You wondered who she had lost.

“Do you want to hold her?” You asked, and Rey met your eyes in surprise, though after a brief pause she smiled nervously and nodded. Her smile lit up her whole face, and you were glad you thought to offer the baby as a way to pull it from her—babies had a way of making the sad a little less daunting.

You lifted Charlie out of the sarong, “Say hi to Auntie Rey, Charlie!” Charlie began to babble incoherently in that cheerful baby talk as she settled against Rey’s hip. She watched her, smiling to herself, before glancing between you and Poe.

“She’s beautiful,” Rey’s hand caught one of Charlie’s, squeezing gently, “Takes after her mama, clearly.” She tacked on, throwing Poe a look that made you laugh out loud.

Finn, you noticed, was watching Rey hold the baby with a quiet expression of adoration that made you smile inwardly. He caught you staring and grinned cheekily. As he began to chide Poe teasingly, a sudden memory came to mind, of the last time you had spoken to your father.

“Just remember, family always comes first—but we can make our own family, sweetie,” Dad squeezed your hand, “Family is what we make it, big or small, blood-related or not. So you make sure to surround yourself with good people, people you love and trust, and you’ll always have a family.”

And as you stood there, gazing at your new friends, the people who had ensured your Poe had come back to you, you realized that you were only adding to your family today. You felt like the luckiest woman in the entire galaxy, your heart was bursting with joy and hope for everything still to come.

Poe pressed a kiss to your temple, and you shot him a smile, knowing he felt it too.

Here, you thought, was where the next chapter of your life began. And you couldn’t be more excited.

A/N—THANK YOU for reading this story, for enjoying this journey with me and loving my characters so much. I’m hopeful you loved this final chapter and can’t wait to hear your thoughts. And of course, we still have the epilogue coming!🤍

Taglist

@mermaidxatxheart @foxilayde @eleinemk @paintballkid711 @mylifeisactuallyamess @20th-centu-fairy-girl @deitysnips @cannedsoupsucks @ubri812 @poedameronloverx @hoeforthefictional @astrological-bitch @itsnottilly @itsdameron @alex-sulli @generousrunawaydonut @wildmoonflower @onlyferorder66 @afootnoteinyourhappiness @asaucecoveredsomething @ladydmalfoy

[bittermuire]

Hold My Hand: Part One

Gwynriel (and Nessian) modern au, told from the perspectives of Gwyn and Azriel.

---

The face in the mirror is one Gwyn has slowly come to recognize as her own.

Tired, wan, pale. Messy; freckles scattered carelessly. Cracked lips and circles beneath placid teal eyes. Dull coppery hair, caught up in a braid long enough to brush the small of her back.

She doesn’t know long she might have stood there—still, motionless in the dimness of her bedroom, staring at a face which always stared back—but then there’s a clinking of noise coming from the kitchen, and a distant hum. Plates are being set on the table, glasses are being filled, breakfast is being cooked, by Emerie.

Emerie always cooks, saying she loves to, that it’s a good way to start the day. Gwyn is grateful for it. She’d probably have cereal every morning if not for her friend.

“You coming?” Emerie calls.

Gwyn feels a little rush of warmth. “Yeah, one second!” Without a backward glance she grabs her sweater, pulling it over her head as she steps out into the hall.

Emerie is perfectly put together this morning, as always. Her gleaming black hair is in a bun at the nape of her neck, makeup needless with her smooth brown skin. But it’s her smile that’s most beautiful.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” she says, giving Gwyn a healthy helping of eggs and bacon. Their two dogs, Geri and Freki, lift their heads as the aroma meets their fuzzy snouts.

“Good morning.” Gwyn smiles too, and Emerie sits across from her. “I thought Nesta was coming over for breakfast.”

Emerie shakes her head, shoveling a forkful of eggs into her mouth. “She just texted. She can’t make it. Something’s up with Feyre.”

“Feyre?”

“Feyre.”

The disdain is clear in her tone. Emerie’s never liked what Nesta refers to as the ‘Inner Circle,’ knowing that their friend has always felt distinctly apart from it.

“Weird,” Gwyn mutters, and Emerie grunts in response.

“Anyway,” she says, “I gotta run. I’ve got an early appointment at…” she trails off, checking her watch. “... Oh, shit. I have to go.”

Gwyn laughs as her friend frantically slings her back over her shoulder and grabs her in a quick hug, rushing out the door.

“Bye!”

“Bye, Emerie!”

And then the lock clicks, and the silence falls, and Gwyn hurries to fill it with mindless cooing to the dogs and lazy singing, knowing what ugly things will find her in the dark.

Her work at the library starts soon, and so she clears the table, still singing and still cooing, the dogs now jumping around with new energy. By the time she’s done, she’s ready to leave—with a pat on each dog’s soft head, Gwyn locks the door behind her, and heads down to the lobby of their building.

•

“Gwyn!”

The word is a shouted whisper, followed by the rustling of a raincoat and papers. Gwyn turns to see Nesta striding through the library, usually stormy face bright and smiling, arms full of folders and hair damp from the drizzling rain. Gwyn sets down the stack of books she was shelving and pulls Nesta into a quick hug, happy to see her.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

Nesta shrugs. “I’m focusing on Scandinavian history right now and Merrill,” she leans in close, voice lowering, “that heinous woman, is the one to go to.”

“Yikes.” Gwyn grimaces, seeing her boss’s stony face in her mind’s eye. “Do you like it?”

“The research? Yes. I love it.” Something warm flickers in her ice blue eyes, and Gwyn is struck by the wave of protectiveness she feels for her friend.

“But besides that,” Nesta goes on, “I’m still coming over to your place for dinner, right? It’s our nineties rom-com night.”

“Of course you are, but I’m picking.”

Nesta laughs dryly. “Sure you are. I’ll fight you.”

“Emerie wants My Best Friend’s Wedding.”

“I could do that,” Nesta says thoughtfully. She cocks her head, gaze falling down the aisle to the desks beyond. “There’s Merrill. I’ll see you tonight.”

She strides off, commanding as ever, and Gwyn looks after her.

It’s strange. The Nesta Gwyn knows is a brilliant woman, kind and loving and caring, protective and loyal and beautiful. The Nesta she knows so often curls up on the couch with a blanket, sipping hot chocolate on a simmering summer night, crying over a Disney movie. But then there is the Nesta so many others know—cold and hard and ruthless, stunning like a frigid winter morning.

She is, in a way. But everyone, Gwyn thinks, stops there. They never try to find anything beyond Nesta’s exterior. And that’s where they always go wrong.

•

The doorbell rings when all three of them are snuggled under a blanket, My Best Friend’s Wedding rented and ready. They all look at each other, wide-eyed, like young sisters home alone and too afraid to open the door.

With a heaving sigh, Emerie throws the blanket off of her legs and goes to the door.

“I’ll get it,” she says, and Gwyn and Nesta laugh.

“Thank you, darling dearest!”

Whatever spiked retort that’s most surely on Emerie’s tongue is swallowed when the door clicks open. Gwyn cranes her neck to see, and goes still.

Two men are in the doorway —tall, broad men, dark-haired and handsome. They aren’t so frightening until she sees their hands. Big hands. The hands of men accustomed to getting what they want.

Gwyn shrinks farther into herself, and it’s that which makes Nesta look at her, brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, and turns as well to see who is in the doorway. Gwyn can see, painfully clearly, Nesta’s face drain of color.

One of the men steps forward. He smiles rakishly, raising a hand in an awkward wave. “Hi. I’m Cassian.”

Something like a hiss slithers from Nesta’s throat, and Gwyn places a hand on her arm. “What’s he doing here?” she murmurs. Nesta looks at her, and there’s something pleading in her eyes.

“I don’t know.”

Emerie opens the door wider. “Uh, come in.” They step inside, and Cassian’s attention is wholly fixed on Nesta. Gwyn wants to run.

It’s funny—the way they treat the apartment like a fortification. Gwyn thinks that the three of them have found safety in each other, but only in each other. Anyone in the doorway is a threat.

The room is quiet. Cassian rocks on his heels, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Nesta, you’re having dinner with us tonight.”

“She’s having dinner with us, as you can see.” Emerie crosses her arms.

The second of the two men shifts uncomfortably, and Gwyn’s eyes catch on him. He’s… beautiful. In a way she did not find most people to be.

Cassian sighs. “Feyre wants you for dinner.”

“I just had breakfast with you all,” Nesta says, quietly. “I’m with my friends for tonight.”

Gwyn and Emerie share a look. Their words are clear.

She never talks like that to them. What happened at breakfast?

Something’s wrong.

Gwyn looks again to Nesta, but somewhere along the way, she meets the curious gaze of the second man. His eyes are dark and shifting. Something flickers in them as they meet hers; she feels, suddenly, as if they are sharing a feeling.

She wonders if he noticed her little exchange with Emerie.

“It’s just one dinner,” Cassian says impatiently. “One, Nesta. C’mon. We gotta go.”

Emerie lets out a sharp breath. “I told you—”

“It’s fine. I’ll go.”

Nesta rises from the couch, smoothing out her shirt. With quick fingers, she ties up her hair and grabs her bag. Cassian watches closely. As she passes, he looks like he wants to touch her. He doesn’t.

But the second one—as he goes to leave, he looks over his shoulder. Those eyes aren’t as dark as they meet hers again. And Gwyn isn’t afraid.

She isn’t afraid at all.

The three of them are gone in a matter of seconds, and steam is nearly coming out of Emerie’s ears as she closes the door.

“Those assholes—who do they think they are? Seriously! Just dragging her out of here!” Emerie huffs. “‘It’s just one dinner, Nesta.’ Oh, yeah, for sure—go ahead, fuck with her life, then hold her hostage for just one dinner, I’m sure she won’t mind.”

Gwyn wants to share in her mockery of those two, but she’s stuck in those ten seconds prior, when she was looking at a man and he was looking at her, and she wasn’t afraid.

That doesn’t really happen anymore… at least, it hasn’t happened in years. Gwyn had firmly believed that it wouldn’t ever happen again.

Until this.

Emerie flops down on the couch, and looks at Gwyn with startling ferocity. “We’ve got to save her.”

Gwyn smiles wryly.

“We’re going to save her.”

---

To be honest, I don’t really know what I’m doing? I got this idea for a modern au and then really wanted to write it, but I’m terrible with anything longer than a one-shot so... we’ll see how it goes.

Basically, this is going to be half-and-half Gwynriel and Nessian (told through Gwyn and Az), as well as lots of scenes with the Valkyries. I’ve got a rough idea of a plot, but right now it includes more emphasis on the girls’ friendship, Nesta’s separation from the IC, Gwyn’s friendship with Az, and Emerie’s struggle to grow out of her past.

So yeah. I’m nervous to see where this goes, but excited too :)

Tags: @lovelywordsandwine @gwynkyrie @princessofmerchants-reads @gwynrielsupremacy

[hearts-hunger]

aay’han mar’eyce (bittersweet discovery): chapter one || din djarin x reader

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

Series Summary: In search of the Jedi you’ve been tasked to find, you and Din wrestle with the bittersweet discovery of your little one’s past and destined future. || Part Three of Jate’kara (Lucky Stars)

Chapter Summary: When you land on Corvus, you and Din both realize you’re more nervous about finding Ahsoka Tano than you thought.

Pairings: Din Djarin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst | Word Count: 3k 

Warnings: Mentions of reader’s pregnancy

A/N: When will God stop my sinful hand? Never, and I’ll keep writing for Mr. and Mrs. Djarin as long as it gives me serotonin like this. This series is a pretty distinct tonal shift from Dralshy’a Ka’ra, which was all sunshine, but I really wanted to do another episode rewrite and I thought chapter 13 had such great potential for family bonding and hurt/comfort. I hope you like it! ♡

“Corvus. This is the place.”

Your husband’s voice broke the silence that had filled the cockpit, and you looked up to see a cloudy green planet steadily growing bigger beyond the glass. Bright glimpses of magma core peeked through the dense atmosphere. The display on the Crest’s instrument panel gave a friendly chirp and outlined the planet’s main hubs, one of which was the city of Calodan. Your stomach gave an unpleasant jolt at the name and you tried to still the slight trembling of your hands, looking for something to distract you from your impending arrival on the planet.

You held an unfinished project in your hands, a soft little baby romper made of navy blue cotton. Din had gotten you the fabric while you were staying on Naboo - though he’d gotten it for you to make something for yourself, he hadn’t minded when you told him you were going to use a little of it to make something for your babies. You’d already stitched up a handsome little shirt for your son, and now you were working on something for your new baby.

Resting your hand over your stomach, you gave a small sigh and thought over the last month. Omera had wanted you to try and steer clear of danger as much as possible, for your sake and the baby’s, but danger followed your little family with an uncanny determination. The Mandalorians you’d found on Trask had turned out to be an entirely different kind than the one you’d known, taking their helmets off as if their creed meant nothing, roping your husband into a dangerous, fruitless mission in exchange for their help. But they’d also helped save your little one, and you’d be forever indebted to them for it.

You shuddered. You couldn’t think about that day for long before you grew panicky, nervous to let your son out of your sight lest he be swallowed up like that again. You and Din had both had nightmares about it, about what could have happened to Din or your baby on that ship. You could have lost a child and been widowed in the blink of an eye had it not been for Bo-Katan and the other Mandalorians, and the thought made you sick with fear and worry even now.

Then you’d gone to Nevarro, and Din had gone off on another mission to destroy an Imperial base. You and your husband had argued about it, but he eventually brought you around - Cara and Greef were your friends, and they’d always helped you when you needed it. It was time to return the favor, even if it meant you’d be fretting in the back of a schoolroom the entire time they were gone. 

Your husband’s return hadn’t been the triumphant victory you’d expected - Din had rushed in, wasting no breath on explanations, and taken you and the baby back to the ship for a hasty departure. It was just your luck that your escape from Nevarro had devolved into a dogfight with Imperial TIE-fighters, and your poor husband had endured no small amount of ranting from you when things settled back down. You were angry and worried, petrified by the thought of the experiments the Imperial warlords wanted to perform on your little one.

And now, you were approaching the planet that sheltered the Jedi you’d been tasked to find. The Jedi you were then supposed to hand your baby over to, because she was one of “his kind”. You felt a now-familiar wash of unease come over you, and worried your bottom lip to try and keep it in check.

“I’ve detected a beacon,” Din said, looking over at the display. Your baby sat up on the dash next to him, watching his movements with interest.

Din worked around him, pressing buttons and flipping switches in preparation for landing. “I’m gonna start the landing cycle,” he said. He glanced down at your son. “You better get back in your seat.”

The baby didn’t move from the dash, giving a soft coo of protest. You noticed the silver handle was back on the gear shift and smiled a little, knowing that was what held your little one’s attention enough for him to disregard his dad’s instruction. 

Din took his focus from the landing cycle long enough to realize his son hadn’t done as he was told.

“Hey, what did I tell you?” he said, in a mildly scolding tone. “Back in your seat.”

Your baby’s ears drooped. Setting aside your sewing project, you rose and gathered him into your arms.

“Oh, you poor thing,” you crooned, cuddling him close. “Your daddy’s so grumpy, isn’t he?”

He gave a babble of agreement, and Din huffed a laugh.

“I’ll be more grumpy if he tumbles off the dash while we’re landing.”

“That’s not true,” you told your baby. “Daddy would hold you and kiss it better. He couldn’t be grumpy with you if he tried.” As stoic as your husband seemed on the outside, he was as gentle as could be underneath all that armor. 

He flipped another switch and looked over his shoulder at you.

“You alright, cyare?” he asked gently. “You’ve been pretty quiet today.”

Usually you could be counted on to keep up a steady stream of conversation if you decided to stay with Din in the cockpit rather than roam around the ship. For this trip, though, you’d been uncharacteristically quiet. You knew Din shared your fears about finally meeting this Jedi, but you were completely tangled up in knots about it and hadn’t wanted to burden him.

You shook your head and held your baby closer. “I’m fine. Just... tired, I guess.”

You were a little run down, especially since morning sickness had started to give you some trouble, but you’d had much worse and would muscle through it. Besides, you couldn’t really afford to slow down, and both you and Din knew it.

“I would have thought you’d be relieved to have a little peace and quiet,” you teased lightly. He’d told you when you first started courting that the Crest had never heard so much talking until you came aboard.

He chuckled. “I like listening to you talk, cyare.” He eased the Crest into the atmosphere, a task that was second nature after so many years with the same ship. He glanced over at the little romper you’d laid on the dash.

“You finished it?” he asked.

You picked it up; your baby grabbed it in his clawed hand.

“Gentle,” you reminded him. “This is for ik’aad, remember?” Din had used the Mandalorian word for “baby” to tell your son your happy news, and it had stuck. Even now, your little one’s ears perked up at the nickname.

You smiled when he brushed his fingers over the fabric with a gentler touch and gave a soft coo.

“I haven’t finished it yet,” you said to Din. “I want to do some embroidery on it, if I can find the right thread - I was thinking little snowflakes along the collar.”

Your baby would be born during the winter on Sorgan, and even though you knew it was early yet, you’d taken great comfort and joy in working on this outfit. 

Din held out his hand. “May I see?”

You handed it to him, and it seemed delicate and very small in his big hands. He ran a finger over the collar.

“You’ve done a beautiful job so far, cyar’ika,” he said, and you felt your cheeks pink a little at the tenderness of his compliment.

“Thank you,” you said. You put your son down in your seat and took the romper from your husband’s hand.

“Stay put, and be good for dad,” you told your little one. “I’ll be right back.”

You gathered up your sewing odds and ends and took them down to the second level of the Crest, tucking them safely away in the small chest you kept your mending in. A shirt of Din’s that had torn at the shoulder seam was half-folded at the bottom, and you took a moment to neaten it and steady yourself before you went back up to the cockpit.

Ahsoka Tano was her name. It was the only thing you knew about her, besides the fact that she was a Jedi. You didn’t know what she looked like, or who she worked for, or how she would train your little one. She might be cruel and mean-tempered, for all you knew - how could you just hand your foundling over to her?

You and Din hadn’t really talked about it. Up until now, finding a Jedi had always seemed like something that might take years to accomplish. They were apparently very few and far between, and though you now knew it had been foolish to do so, you had never really given any great consideration to actually finding one, at least not so quickly. You and Din had loved your little one and cared for him as your own, even before the Armorer declared you a clan of three and heard your vows to adopt him. To hand him over to someone you knew nothing about - someone from an enemy race to the Mandalorians, no less - was unthinkable.

But you’d also vowed something else to the armorer that day. Together, you and Din had promised to find others of your foundling’s kind and return him to them. It was not a vow you took lightly, and you knew Din would no sooner break his promise than he would give up the Way. 

You straightened your shoulders and stood. No matter what happened on this planet, Din would need you. His struggle between the love he had for his foundling and the loyalty he had to the Way would not be an easy thing to overcome, and you wouldn’t leave him to face it alone.

You made your way back up to the cockpit, and you heard your little one babbling away before you came through the doors. Din was nodding and responded with interest despite the baby’s chatter not really meaning anything, and you felt your chest tighten. This was going to be harder than you thought.

- 

Din landed the Crest in a clearing among the forest of charred, skeletal trees surrounded by a sickly fog. You wondered if the air was even breathable. A quick check to the Crest’s display showed that it was, but the greenish tinge of the smog only added to your unease as the ship settled to the ground.

“I thought Bo-Katan said this was a forest planet,” you said.

Din started the shutdown cycle. “She did. Something must have happened to destroy the forests, and I’m guessing it wasn’t an accident. It probably has something to do with that city we passed over.”

You looked up at his helm as he stood. “The city we’re headed to?”

“Right again,” he said wryly. He looked over your shoulder to the dead trees outside. “Do you want to stay here while I go check out the city?”

As if on cue, a low groaning sound came from outside - only a very big creature could have made such a noise, and it didn’t sound like anything you’d like to meet on your own.

You crossed your arms over your chest and pressed closer to him. “No, I want to go with you.” You didn’t want to be on this planet anyway, and being separated from Din would only make it worse.

He ran a hand over your back to soothe you. “Okay,” he agreed. “Are you ready to leave?”

You nodded, but you didn’t pull away from him yet. His chestplate felt cool against your skin, and you allowed yourself a moment of comfort in his arms.

He cradled your face in his hands and leaned his helmet against your head. 

“It’s gonna be alright, cyar’ika,” he said gently. “We’ll just take it one step at a time, ok? We might not even find her here.”

You pulled back then, just enough to look up at his visor. You didn’t need to see his face to read the tension and unease he held in his whole body; he was just as hesitant to go looking for Ahsoka Tano as you were.

You bit the inside of your cheek. “One step at a time,” you agreed.

He nodded and relaxed a little. He gave you a final gentle tap of his helm against your head, a reassuring, comforting kiss, then beckoned to your little one.

“Come on, ad’ika,” he said, taking him from the seat. “Let’s go see what we can find.”

You followed Din to the second level, and he set your baby down after he’d come down the ladder to let him stretch his little legs. Your little one toddled after Din as the ramp lowered and revealed the bleak landscape you’d seen through the glass. The dead forest stretched in every direction, broken only by the great hulking shapes of slow-moving creatures in the distance.

Seeing his father had stopped at the foot of the ramp, your baby stopped too - top heavy and struggling to balance on the ramp, he sat midway down the slope with a little coo. You noticed he had the handle to the gear shift in his hand and was contentedly watching the way it shone in the weak sunlight.

“Did daddy give you that?” you asked, hunkering down next to him. He held it up to you and gave a soft babble.

Din turned. “Did I give him what?” He saw the ball in your baby’s hand and closed the distance between you in a few steps.

“What did I say about that?” Din scolded, extending his hand. The baby whined but reluctantly handed over his prize.

“This needs to stay in the ship,” Din chided. He tucked the ball into a pocket on his belt and straightened, looking out over the terrain again. You gave your son a consoling kiss on his soft ear; he chirped happily at you and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Not much to see out here,” Din said. He looked back at the two of you. “I’ve never had dealings with the Jedi before.”

Neither of you had, and his guess was as good as yours as to whether Jedi usually made their homes on planets as seemingly inhospitable as this. You knew nothing of their customs, their way of life - perhaps they didn’t even train ones as little as your baby, or were still hostile to Mandalorians. The only way to know would be to find the one you were looking for.

Din leaned down to scoop your baby up, cradling him in the crook of his arm, and offered his hand to you to help you stand. He gave your hand a quick squeeze before letting go.

“Let’s head into town,” he said. “See if we can pick up a lead.”

You stayed by his side as he walked to the edge of the clearing, and the Crest whirred as it drew the ramp back up and settled in to wait. You’d landed far enough away from the city to leave your ship better guarded against thieves, but it wouldn’t be a long walk to reach the city.

The forest closed in the further you went from your ship - even though they were rotted, the trees were numerous and large. They loomed in the fog, invisible until you were right on top of them, and it set your teeth on edge. When he was carrying the baby, Din preferred to have his other hand free to grab his blaster if the need should arise; to oblige him but still attempt to soothe your jangled nerves, you held a handful of his cloak and kept close to him that way.

All three of your kept quiet as you walked. You were in no mood for cheery conversation, and Din was well accustomed to silence on a bounty hunt. Even though Ahsoka Tano wasn’t a bounty, you knew your husband would employ those same skills to find her in the city; Din was an excellent hunter, and would most likely find her quickly. You didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

Just before you reached the city, Din stopped and asked you to take the baby.

“Keep him close, cyare,” he said as your little one snuggled against your chest. “I don’t want either of you wandering.”

He knew he didn’t have to remind you, but you also knew it helped soothe his nerves. You put your hand on his arm, hoping to reassure him.

“We’ll stay close,” you told him. Though you were occasionally tempted to break his “stay by my side” rule on more colorful, inviting planets - you’d gotten a thorough reaming out from your husband one time after you’d wandered off and gotten lost in a bazaar on a Mid-Rim planet and made him sick with worry - you wanted to stick close on this planet.

“Should we do the nursemaid, this time?” you asked. A Mandalorian accompanied by a young woman and a baby would always call attention, and you often playacted to keep your identity as his wife a secret. You and your little one made him vulnerable, and were therefore a higher prize to be won or better bargaining chip to own.

Din’s posture stiffened.

“No,” he said firmly. “If anyone asks, we’ll tell them the truth. You’re my wife, and anyone who wants to get at you or our baby will have to go through me first.”

You felt a strange mix of apprehension and pride, hesitance and desire. His protective nature had always been something you loved about him, but he wasn’t usually this keyed up before a hunt. You reminded yourself this wasn’t a regular hunt you were on; neither of you had any idea what you’d find in the city, and you knew he’d been feeling the same nervousness you had as you came closer to finding what you sought.

“Okay,” you agreed. “We’ll tell them the truth.”

He seemed to relax a little - he must have known you’d picked up on his tone, and was thankful you’d taken it in stride. He brushed his hand over the baby’s head, then touched his fingers to your cheek.

“Thank you,” he said. “I love you.”

You took a steadying breath and held your baby closer. “I love you too.”

Read chapter two!

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[imaginesandinserts]

Irreverent Pt. 48 - Strings that Bind

Title: Irreverent Pt. 48 - Strings that Bind

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: M Words: ~9K

Irreverent Series Masterlist

Every part of you ached as you walked towards your bedroom, past Jack's door, down the long hallway. Your clothes clung to you as you clumsily made your way to the room. There was a shooting pain on your left side from where you'd taken a spill earlier. Your body screamed its protest at your insistence on pushing it to keep moving despite the hell it had endured, yet you force yourself to continue on through the pain. Your brain felt numb and like it had overheated in exertion at the same time. Finally so much made sense and yet, nothing really did. What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

As you entered, the room was dark save for the light streaming in from the hallway. You hadn't bothered turning it on yet. The dark felt better. You'd arrived home to a quiet house - Jack asleep already and Mrs. Avery leaving with a quick goodbye, seemingly sensing your desire to not speak much. She was good like that - perceptive, unobtrusive. In a way she reminded you of Mrs. Hernandez from when you were younger. In hindsight, you had more memories of her than you ever did of your own mother, despite her being let go after only a year. Your mother never did manage to keep a nanny around for too long. It wasn't that you were a troublesome child. She simply hated seeing you or Julian growing attached to any of them in particular, and thus kept a revolving door of nannies in and out of the house.

She'd hated that you insisted on calling her Mother. Never Mom or anything else softer - more personal, less clinical. Julian had tried to please her. He'd call her Mom to her face and revert to Mother otherwise. You wouldn't deign to give her that comfort. Participation trophies should be limited to children on soccer fields.

You shuffle into the room, trying to move quietly, peeling the jacket off and letting it fall out of your grasp and onto the floor. You glance over at the empty bed - Aaron was still away on a case. For the best, really. If he saw you right now, he would be able to tell that something was amiss. You reach up to swipe away at the tears that had formed as you'd trudged up the stairs, smearing eyeliner and dirt in your wake. You should go take a shower, clean up the dirt and soot that's coating you like a film. Instead you find yourself lowering against the side of the bed, feet planted to the floor as the tears take over, despite your attempts to keep yourself in check. Hot and wet, running down your cheeks in vain as you think back over the past twelve hours. How had everything gone to shit so fast?

You look up when you hear a shuffling outside your room, only to see Jack standing in the doorway, illuminated by the golden light outside, rubbing at his eyes. You feel a sting of guilt go through you as you realize you must've been loud enough on your way in to have woken him up. It was far too late for him to be awake.

"H–Hello." His voice comes out soft and groggy as he pushes open the door to your bedroom and makes his way inside, forcing more light to fall upon you.

He reaches you before you're able to force yourself to stand. You don't want him to see you like this but it is a little too late for that. Quickly wiping away any remnant tears with the sleeves of your shirt, you look up at his face. "Hey Bud, what're you doing up?"

Jack shrugs as if to say I don't know, just because before settling down in front of you on the floor and crossing his legs. He looks up at you from there and you feel yourself being appraised in a manner eerily similar to Aaron. Between the two of you, you'd raised a kid that was a little too perceptive and observant for his own good.

"Are you okay?" he asks, moving in closer and putting his smaller hand on yours in a way you're quite certain he's seen Aaron do before.

You can feel your heart swell at the care and concern behind his question. You sniff and nod, before forcing a watery smile on your face. "I just miss your dad," you tell him, knowing that at least it wasn't a lie, even if it wasn't the entire truth.

Jack watches you for a moment, head tilted to the side as if in deep thought. How deep could a six year old's thoughts even be?

"When I miss you or Daddy, I cuddle with Theo," he says finally, as if he's a little doctor prescribing the medicine to your ailment. You could imagine Jack on the nights neither you nor Aaron is at home, padding over to the shelf where his stuffed toys sit, and reaching over to grab the brown teddy bear that you'd gotten him after Haley passed away. Over the years the bear had been through quite a bit, getting dragged to playdates and the park early on, before retiring to a spot of prominence on the stuffed toy shelf. You'd done your best to keep him clean through all that time but despite that, Theo had gone through quite a few bows – a different color each time. If you weren't mistaken, it was a blue colored bow at the moment.

You smile at him, dragging him closer to you while making sure you aren't getting him dirty in the process. "Does it help?"

He nods. "A little. Then you're both back and I don't miss you anymore. Daddy will be back soon. He promised."

In that moment, you're so grateful that he has Aaron's eyes, because Aaron's eyes are whiskey and Aaron's eyes are honey and they are the first drip of coffee in the morning, helping you warm up and feel safe and at home always. Jack's eyes hold all of his father's heart and comfort but lack the sadness that life has flecked Aaron's with. It makes them better in a way. You could almost imagine it's what Aaron's had once been like.

You have to force yourself to take a deep breath in lieu of doing what you actually want to do, which is simply hold Jack like your own personal teddy bear and rock back and forth while crying. That might freak him out more than he likely already is.

"You wanna be my little cuddle bug for the night? Sleep here?" you ask, standing and lifting him with you as you go.

Jack nods enthusiastically, already moving to climb up onto the bed on Aaron's side. You watch as he makes himself comfortable, before you go get cleaned up.

By the time you emerge, Jack has already fallen back asleep and the only sound is from his gentle breathing. For a split second, you debate running down and grabbing your gun to keep by the bed, just in case. However, you remind yourself that the alarm system is in place and having the gun nearby has a much higher chance of hurting you or Jack than helping.

With that thought squared away, you gingerly lift the covers on your side, before slipping in carefully, so as to not disrupt the sleeping little boy next to you.

You lie awake for a while as you sift through everything that you've learned recently and how that changes things going forward. Tonight had been reckless on your part, and yet absolutely necessary. You couldn't even imagine what might've happened if you'd hesitated or not gone out there. You're once again thankful that Aaron is safely working a case in South Dakota, because you are nowhere ready to talk about everything just then. Nor could you, really. You couldn't actually tell him even if you wanted to – that was the worst part of all.

You're just about to drift away, when you feel Jack shift next to you, rolling over in his sleep to be closer, seeking you out with all of his limbs until you shift to be right next to him. He sighs in his sleep, causing the soft hair that had fallen into his face to flutter up with the next breath. He could use a haircut.

"Mama"

His lips had scarcely moved, eyelids fluttering barely. A single, heavenly word. A whisper into which he breathed life. You freeze as he unconsciously shuffles closer, seeking out your body heat even under the covers. His little fingers tightening into the material of your shirt. You couldn't look away from him if you tried – eyes glued to his sleeping form, his long eyelashes, his angelic face. Your heart thumped and rattled against your ribs before settling in your throat. You didn't dare move. Didn't dare breathe. Just watched him. Watched as he clung to you even in his sleep.

*------------*

The team has been working on a case locally in Maryland, so Aaron has been able to spend the last few nights at home with Jack. He'd come back from South Dakota, in the evening to Jack and Mrs. Avery, having just missed you. The two of you had caught one another on a phone call as he drove to the airport a few states away and you drove to the airport, off to Europe once more. You'd sounded just a little subdued during the short call the two of you share, more so exchanging logistical information regarding Jack and his schedule rather than anything else.

You're supposed to arrive back tomorrow and the three of you have tickets to opening night for the ballet season which Jack has actually been looking forward to quite a bit. He'd already modeled his new outfit for the occasion for his father and when Aaron had looked in his closet, he'd seen a new suit for himself along with a tie matching Jack's bowtie. When you'd found the time to do all that along with preparing a few days' worth of meals and leaving a tray of tiramisu for him in the fridge, was entirely beyond him. As far as he knew, you were only back home with Jack for two days. Two very productive days it seemed like. He had a feeling that meant you hadn't slept much, if at all.

Aaron shifts as he continues to look over the paperwork he was catching up on. Despite an active case going on, it appears the cooling off period for this Unsub was fairly long, and so while the rest of the team ran down some leads, Garcia was digging deeper to see what she could unearth about the case. It left Aaron with a couple of free hours to start logging the ongoing paperwork for this case and catch up on the nearly thirty emails from Strauss around getting JJ recertified for fieldwork, as she had recently returned from her maternity leave (over far too quickly, as he'd been sure to tell her). The two of you had met baby Michael briefly, soon after his birth, going along with the rest of the team to JJ's home, laden with presents. Seeing you hold the baby with the utmost care, cradling him in your arms and softly cooing to him as he made himself at home in your embrace – it had stirred something within Aaron. You'd looked beautiful, your face glowing as you looked down at Michael, your eyes sparkling when you'd looked up and met his. He wanted that. He really wanted that with you.

He looks up then at the framed photo of the two of you on his desk and his heart fills with affection – it was the picture from New York, the two of you kissing on that red carpet. Dave had gone and gifted a framed copy to everyone on the team for Christmas, as a memento of that visit, and both of yours sat on your respective desks. Dave's copy had joined the slew of frames that sat on the counter running behind the desk in his office. Garcia's was the same for her own lair. JJ had taken her copy home and he's fairly confident it joined the scrapbook album she maintained as her art therapy – she said it kept her hands busy and her mind empty, best of both worlds. He's unsure where Morgan's copy ended up but he hasn't seen it around. Likely shoved to the back of the bottom drawer of his desk. Reid too had forgone the frame and Aaron had seen him use an oddly folded copy of the picture as a bookmark, whilst they'd been on the plane. Reid had gone to some effort to fold it in a manner so that your face was folded inwards – a difficult task indeed when one considered that the two of you had your lips locked together and he'd dipped you backwards. However it was Prentiss's copy which had truly caught his attention. It sat on her desk, in the same frame Dave had gifted it in. At first, Aaron had found this to be odd, because why would Prentiss want a framed photo of her coworkers kissing on her own desk. However, late one evening, when he was the last to vacate the premises, he'd walked by and upon closer inspection saw exactly why she kept it on her desk. She'd vandalized it. In true homage to her teenage rebel self, she'd gone and taken a sharpie, drawing a vastly exaggerated handlebar mustache on Aaron's face and a small tiara on your head. He would rather die than admit that it had drawn a small laugh out of him, as he'd put the frame back exactly where he picked it up from and walked his way towards the elevators.

Aaron shifts in the chair, rolling his shoulder back, still sore from the workout he'd had with Morgan earlier that morning, before turning back towards the form he was in the midst of filling out. His hands move with rote familiarity, filling in the details from the case thus far. He'd started to have an odd feeling about this case a couple days ago. Something about the victims had started to feel off and running it by Morgan, his feeling had been corroborated. As a result, Garcia was running a more thorough investigation on linking all of the victims together.

The working out with Morgan was a new thing, borne out of him asking you why you never chose to work out with him, with you opting to go spar with Morgan instead. You'd confessed that since your exit from the team, you didn't get much time with Morgan. Working out together was a way for the two of you to still have some of that one on one time. You'd been sure to add on that there were quite a few workouts you'd want to engage in with Aaron alone, and those were all clothing optional.

All joking aside, you did seem to actually get a lot out of working out with Morgan, and so Aaron had thought that maybe it would be nice for him to do the same. Morgan had been quick to agree and the two of them had started with just running and lifting weights in the gym downstairs. It was easy to see why you enjoyed this time with Morgan, just the two of you. In the field he was a colleague who always had someone's back. In the gym, he put on more of the coaching hat and would walk through drills and steps with a calm and serene tone that was entirely approachable. Over the past few weeks, Aaron had easily bridged several subjects that neither him nor Morgan had touched over a decade of working together. It was primarily Aaron letting down his guard and allowing himself to vocalize his concerns regarding you and how much you'd taken on recently. Morgan, in turn, had conveyed his appreciation for Aaron's role leading the team, and had confided in him that it was highly unlikely he'd ever want to be unit chief again himself. If anything, taking on the mantle in Aaron's absence had convinced him of quite the opposite, and with him and Savannah getting married and thinking of starting a family, there was a high chance he might want to shift his career towards one that allowed a semblance of a family life. Knowing what he did now, Aaron could do nothing but wholeheartedly support that decision.

"Hotch."

Aaron looks up at the call of his name, to see Morgan standing in his doorway, looking agitated.  

"What's going on?" Aaron's already standing, making his way towards the door.

"Garcia found something last night, but we just got interrupted," Morgan explains, already turning away and walking towards the conference room where the team was set up to work on the case together. Aaron is quick to follow, his shoulders tensing and his brow furrowing as they both make their way to the room.

The sight that greets Aaron is odd, to say the least. Reid is stood near the whiteboard in the corner marker still in hand, Rossi has his arms crossed and is glaring towards the center of the room, and both JJ and Prentiss are stood like female lions, set to pounce on any threat to their cub. The cub in question - Garcia - was stood in the center at the round table, defiantly glaring up at Anderson, who it appeared, had stopped her from proceeding with her work. He was standing with one hand on her laptop and the other on the back of her chair, effectively preventing her from working any further.

"Agent Anderson, would you please mind explaining what is going on here?" Aaron squares his shoulders and fixes Anderson with a firm look, not at all appreciating how he's cornered Garcia and invaded her space.

However, before Anderson has a chance to explain, the door to the conference room opens and Aaron turns to see you standing there. His heart quickly fills with warm affection at the sight of you. He hadn't expected you home for another couple of days, so this was a pleasant, albeit untimely surprise.

He assumes you'd come looking for him, however he needs to deal with the situation at hand first, despite how much he'd rather just usher you away to his office and keep you to himself for say, the next hour or so, at least.

Aaron smiles at you quickly to acknowledge your presence and sees the others relaxing ever so slgihtly as well. "Hi sweetheart, if you want to wait in my office, you can. I can meet you there. Just have to deal with something first."

Instead of acknowledging him and leaving, however, you enter and close the door behind you, before quickly approaching Anderson and Garcia. "Agent Anderson, would you mind stepping outside, please?" you ask, your order soft but assertive. Anderson is quick to nod and do just as you asked without question. He releases the laptop and nods at Aaron before turning towards the door.

Aaron watches, confused, as Anderson closes the door behind him. What on earth was going on and how were you involved? Since when did Anderson take orders from you? It is obvious from the looks on everyone else's faces, that their thoughts mirror his own.

"Penelope," you turn now to Garcia, who was still at the table, hovering over her computer. "I need you to explain to me how you gained access to the file on Project Titan."

There's a tense silence as the team looks between you and Garcia, piecing together that the interruption to Garcia's work was linked to your current assignment. The name of the project was unfamiliar to Aaron. It wasn't in any internal briefing packets or any departmental meetings. That could only mean it was classified to the maximum degree.

Garcia's brow furrows deeper as she looks at you in surprise, and she shakes her head, her colorful earrings bouncing as she does, before she even speaks the words. "I can't do that, Y/N You know I can't."

Your lips press together in annoyance at the answer you receive. You wanted this to be easier. You hadn't expected pushback. Aaron finally snaps out of his confusion and recognizes that he has to take control of the situation before anything spirals out further. "Y/N, what is going on?"

You look up sharply, meeting his eyes only for a second, during which Aaron can immediately tell that you are incredibly tired. Worn out almost. He detects more makeup than normal, likely covering up dark circles underneath your eyes. If he's not mistaken, it would appear that your clothes are hanging just the slightest bit looser on your frame, as though you'd lost some weight in the two weeks since he'd last seen you. There's a look in your eyes that gives him great pause – it's not fear exactly, but perhaps fear mixed with resignation. An acceptance for what needs to come next.

You scan the room as you speak, taking in the piles of files and the work on the whiteboard. "The BAU is no longer to investigate the Busch murder or any other affiliated crime." Your eyes come back to land on the computer sitting in front of Garcia. That's your sole objective right now. It's the only thing that matters.

The air in the room changes immediately, from tense to downright confrontational. Aaron knows that the rest of the team is looking to him, barely breathing. They're trusting him to handle whatever is going on, because he's the boss. None of them would risk speaking up and saying the wrong thing. They've been through this before countless times with other adversaries in the field - overzealous prosecutors, territorial detectives, politicians high on their own power. However it's you now. You're the person on the other side.

"You do not have the authority to tell the BAU which cases we can or cannot take," he says quickly, hoping to keep the conversation to a minimum and resolve whatever is going, alone with you back in his office. He tries to gesture at you to follow him out of the room, but his efforts are rebuffed once more.

"Actually I – I can," you falter just barely as you turn back to him, lips pressed together and shoulders hunched ever so slightly, your lips worn as though you'd been biting them in frustration. You don't want to be doing this – that much is quite obvious to Aaron. "This comes straight from the top. This case has been tagged as classified and this team is no longer authorized to work it." Your voice is detached, as though deliberately trying to avoid any of your obvious ties to the team you're speaking of. Your team.

"Garcia," you turn once more to face her, "it is of the utmost importance that you tell me how you got to the Titan files. It has grave security implications around the project," you repeat your earlier request to Garcia, this time with an attempt at persuasion, hoping to appeal to her innate desire to help you in particular. Aaron can acknowledge that that is exactly what you're doing in that moment. Trying to leverage your relationship to Garcia while simultaneously distancing yourself from the team. He has to acknowledge. He does not have to like it.

Garcia shakes her head again at your question, looking up and meeting Aaron's eyes. She's scared and her eyes are wide with fear, yet brimming with defiance still. She's awaiting his  instruction on how she should proceed. This was such a bizarre situation. You have to know very well that Garcia had done what she usually does – employ a slightly dubious manner of obtaining any information asked of her. Usually that is perfectly fine. Usually no one stops her. Usually she doesn't have friends on both sides – one asking her not to speak while the other implores her to give herself up.

You turn and follow Garcia's eyesight, only to see Aaron shaking his head almost imperceptibly. He's indicating to her to not speak at all. Saying nothing is far better than saying something in this case, he's decided. Saying anything at all could cause a ripple effect of consequences that they have no visibility to yet.

"Y/N, why don't we take this to my office?" He is intent on moving this discussion so that the two of you can speak more freely and get to the root of whatever is happening here.

You look at him once more, apology in your eyes as you let out a sigh. Shit. He can feel the tense coil in his stomach grow tighter. He's not used to seeing you like this. So very obviously doing someone else's bidding. He didn't even know yet what Garcia had stumbled upon, but if it had to do with your project – from what little he knows of it – it wasn't good. It simultaneously raises the stakes for the string of murders the team had been investigating, as well as effectively shuts them out. As it stands, your clearance level is actually higher than his. Higher than Strauss's even.

Ignoring Aaron's request another time, you pull your shoulders back and stand to the full extent of your height, back completely straight. Even then you barely are able to look Penelope head on. "Agent Garcia," your voice is clipped as though you're reading from a script, and Garcia immediately takes a small unconscious step back at your words. "I need you to hand over the laptop to me and if I have to ask again, it will be in an interrogation room and I will recommend that you retain a lawyer."

A loud silence rings through the room at the threat you'd issued. You'd run the gamut for your patience with the situation and you're prepared to see this through to a bitter end if need be. Aaron knows that wasn't you at all and he also knows that whoever was puppeteering you at that moment had enough pull for you to do this at all. Meaning this was the nicest possible version of whatever the original threat had been, watered down at your insistence. There was no way you would let someone just threaten Penelope without a fight.

He meets Morgan's gaze and then turns to Rossi. The three of them have a silent exchange before Aaron turns once more to Garcia, who was now clutching the laptop to her chest as though her life depended on it.

You look between him and Garcia, carefully avoiding looking at Morgan or Prentiss. Your eyes urge him to comply, because you can't promise that the situation won't escalate otherwise. He knows that. He knows that you're trying to resolve this in as easy of a manner as possible with minimal blowback to the team. Trusting that you know what you're doing, he nods at Garcia, giving her the go ahead to hand over the laptop. Whatever happens next, they'll deal with it.

You nod your thanks at Aaron for not putting up more of a challenge. "Thank you." Squaring up once more, you swallow, your tongue peeking out briefly to lick your lips and Aaron can see that the hand that isn't holding on to the laptop is clenched tightly. No doubt there will be red indented crescents in your soft palms momentarily.

Thinking that was the end of it, Aaron is about to usher you into his office if he can, however as you turn once more to Garcia, your next words shock him to the core. "Effective immediately, you are suspended, pending further notice."

There is an immediate outcry. Morgan asks you what you think you're doing. Prentiss is quick to move closer to Garcia. JJ informs you that you cannot do that. However it is Garcia who appears entirely stupefied and paralyzed. The hurt look on her face, accompanied by the sharp gasp had forced you to turn away from her, avoiding the betrayal tinged tears in her eyes.

You continue on, however, ignoring everyone but Aaron now. "The BAU needs to hand over any material on the case thus far. You are not to investigate it further. You are not to disseminate this information to anyone else. You are not to speak of it to one another. Any violation of these terms will result in an immediate suspension for all involved parties, pending internal review."

With that, you walk past your old teammates, past Aaron, and open the door to Anderson waiting outside. "Agent Anderson, will you please escort Agent Garcia to her office to grab any personal belongings and then follow her to her home. Any Bureau issued devices must be confiscated from there as well."

Anderson nods and looks expectantly at Garcia, who is standing in the midst of the rest of the others, Morgan's hand on her back, rubbing in soothing circles.

She gives a shaky nod before moving away from everyone and walking towards the door. As she approaches you, Aaron sees you reach out and grab her arm before leaning in and whispering something into her ear, imperceptibly low. He turns immediately to Reid, hoping he was able to discern whatever you had said, and Reid nods as they all watch Anderson escort Garcia away. You'd angled yourself at an angle optimal for him to be able to read your lips.

You scan the room once more, a dissatisfied grimace on your face, before your eyes land finally on Aaron once more. He has no words for you, unsure of what to say or what to do without knowing more. You nod once more at him, and he takes that to mean that the two of you will discuss whatever just happened later at home that night.

Turning, you closing the door behind you as you go, the laptop clutched in your hands and he watches you walk down the stairs, teetering in the heels you were wearing, and through the bullpen towards the exit. He can just barely make out you calling the elevator, and instead of going down, you go up. He can only imagine which floor you're headed to.

He turns back to face the team, finding them all looking at him.

Reid looks up meeting Aaron's eyes, his own giving away how shaken he was with the events that had just transpired.

"Reid, what did Y/N say to Garcia?"

Reid swallows, looking around the room at the rest of the team – Morgan who still looks furious, JJ and Prentiss who both seem to be processing the strange turn of events, and Rossi, whose normally stoic outlook was marred by a grim expression.

"Be careful. They'll be watching."

*------------*

By the time you arrive back home, it is very late and the house appears to be dark, save for the light emanating from the small lamp in the study. You stop outside the door, keys in one hand and bag in the other, and take a deep breath. Today had been absolute shit. From the rushed plane ride back ,to the conversation with McKinney, to having to actually be the one to issue Garcia's suspension notice – this day would make the top worst days on the job hall of fame. Who would've thought you'd ever go toe to toe with the Director of the FBI and live to tell the tale?

You feel dead tired on your feet and you genuinely could not remember the  last time you'd slept, having asked the flight attendant for an energy drink an hour prior to landing, and having chugged another one on the walk over from McKinney's office to the BAU conference room. It was a wonder your heart hadn't given out right then, thrumming inside as fast as a hummingbird's when you'd entered that conference room to see Anderson having followed your instructions to impede Garcia from digging any further into the files.

A deep sigh leaves you as you unlock the door and enter quietly, quickly removing your heels before turning towards the study. You knew to expect Aaron there, and there he was. He was at the desk, surrounded by paperwork, and looking up at your entrance. You'd figured he would stay up no matter what. He'd been the worst part of today. Having to go over his head. In front of the team. You could only imagine how that might have made him feel. It had definitely made you feel like the absolute worst person on the planet.

You walk to the doorway of the study, stopping at the entrance. He meets your gaze head on, and you're happy to note that he actually looks well despite everything. The past few days at home seem to have done him some good. He has a healthy glow about him, his hair flopping on his forehead, his white t-shirt stretched across his chest. If you're not mistaken, he looks just a little more filled out, in the best of ways – his typically lean body packed with slightly more definition. Something you'd learned to notice through Derek.

"Hi." His voice is softer than you'd anticipated considering your actions from earlier in the day.

You offer him a small, quick smile in response. "Hey."

It's quiet as the two of you look at one another, both unsure how exactly to proceed. You look at your watch, and noting the hour, know you need to move this along despite wanting to linger and explain everything. You don't have that luxury. "Can we talk while I pack? I'm sorry," you sigh. "I have another flight out in a few hours."

Aaron's brows knits together, reminding you that he doesn't know of the change to your schedule yet. However, he nods, knowing you'll explain further. Standing, he walks over to you, wordlessly reaching for your bag, and together you both head upstairs to the bedroom, not wanting to make too much noise while Jack was asleep.

You enter first and walk towards the bathroom and through to the closet, Aaron walking in behind you and closing the door before following. He watches quietly as you quickly change into clothes you'd be more comfortable in during the flight, and in lieu of having nothing else to do, occupies himself with emptying your bag and dumping the clothes into the laundry basket, before busying himself with replenishing your toiletry kit with practiced ease. Anything to make this easier on you. He's tempted to ask if you'd eaten today but he's worried he won't like that answer and he doesn't want to agitate you further with whatever his own reaction would be. He trusts you'll eat on the plane once you're able.

"I'm sorry for today." You've started to pick out a new set of clothes for the next trip, not entirely sure how many days you should pack for. Clyde hadn't been too clear. You decide to err on the side of overpacking, grabbing a few outfits for a professional setting and many others for casual casework, before dumping the entirety of your underwear drawer into a packing cube.

"Let me guess, you can't say anything." Aaron's finished replacing anything you'd run out of, even making more to make a few more pads and tampons for you from underneath the sink, knowing you're about due for your period soon. He'd had the entire evening to think through the events of earlier and he knows his hands are tied and so are yours. He doesn't want to shoot the messenger – he knows that was what you'd been forced into being today. None of that was your call.

You smile your thanks as he hands you a fully loaded toiletry kit, trusting him to have done it perfectly as he has countless times before. "Not much, I'm afraid. But understand that that was the best possible outcome for the time being. There were talks of a treason charge that – well let's just say that depending on what is found on the computer, there's a chance I won't have a job by tomorrow morning."

Aaron halts at that as you continue to fold and put clothing into the bag. He'd suspected as much, but to actually hear that you'd put your own job on the line for Garcia – needless to say he isn't surprised. If anything, it makes it so that he trusts that you did your absolute best to ensure that no harm would come from the backlash, to either Garcia or the rest of the team. His respect for you increases tenfold. He's not so much worried about solving some highly classified murder cases as he is about ensuring that nothing happens to the team or you.

"Are you alright?" He makes sure to catch your gaze as you move around, so that he'll know if you aren't being entirely honest as you answer that particular question.

It had been a while since anyone had actually asked you that, and really you don't have it in you to lie to Aaron. You pause to look at him directly, your shoulders dropping as you release a deep sigh. "No. I just can't do anything about it yet."

He hates this. He hates that you feel entirely vulnerable and exposed and entirely helpless to change that. He hates that he can't do anything to make it better. You shouldn't have to feel like this while he's around. You shouldn't have to look at him and feel like you can't ask anything of him. How is he supposed to be the person you turn to if you aren't even permitted to tell him what you're dealing with?

Sighing, he runs a hand over his face tiredly as you finish packing and zip up the bag, hoisting it up by the handle, only for him to reach forward and grab it from you once more before the two of you exit to the bedroom. There, he sets the bag down and grabs your arm – the first true physical contact the two of you have had in two weeks and you can feel your resolve to keep it together waver just at that alone.

Aaron pulls you in, hugging you tight, his arms encasing you fully. You can feel the warmth seeping through him, feel his heart beating in his chest as you rest your cheek against it, allowing yourself this moment of respite. You sniffle slightly, holding the tears at bay. It was so easy to let yourself open up to him, and yet you truly couldn't afford to breakdown then. Later, you tell yourself. After this is over.

You reluctantly pull away, knowing there's at least one more thing you need to discuss with him tonight before you have to leave. He looks down at you in question, having noted the sudden tensing of your jaw as you look up at him. You bite your lip and he resists the urge to lean down and soothe the ache there – kiss over all the places you'd bitten raw until they're better.

"Today sucked, Aaron," you confess, your voice hushed and your throat heavy with held back emotion, still standing in the circle of his arms. "The worst part was going over your head though. I know you aren't saying it, because you're far too noble to say anything about it, but I know that sucked for you too."

Aaron takes in a deep breath, thinking over your acknowledgement, knowing you're opening the floor to have that conversation further. However right then, you superseding his authority is the least of his concerns. He's not bothered by it in the same manner you appear to be.

"Can you handle me doing this job, knowing that this could happen again?" You look up at him with worry in your eyes, watching his reaction carefully.

At your question, he tenses. His mind goes to the worst of places and his breath comes out shallow as he looks down at you, a storm brewing behind his molten eyes. "What does that mean?"

Your brow furrows, appraising his question and his reaction in tandem, before realizing exactly where his head went at that. "Hey, relax, it's alright." You reach out and softly brush your hands down his arms before reaching up to cup his jaw softly, thumb caressing lightly back and forth across his cheek. "This isn't you and Haley, Aaron," you remind him. "I'm not you and you are definitely not Haley."

He nods, though his posture remains tense despite his face eagerly tilting and allowing the comfort you offered with your touch.

"I have a job offer," you continue, "from the CIA. I haven't responded to it yet – told them I'm actively working a case and can't give them an answer yet. But, if this, us – if we are going to have issues running into each other at work, then there are other options."

This is news to Aaron. He hadn't known you were being sought out by the Agency and while he isn't surprised that they'd reach out to you – you're brilliant, of course they would – he's surprised that you're entertaining it. He's familiar with your disdain for the CIA, still holding somewhat of a grudge from your initial rejection. However, to know that you'd consider working somewhere you don't like, for the sake of preserving your relationship with him – that's not something he would ever ask of you. He was an adult and so were you. Professional disagreements did not have to bleed into your personal life, especially with him knowing exactly how much you'd risked today for Garcia's sake.

"I can handle it," he's quick to reassure you, moving his head to kiss your palm, his hand reaching up to grab yours, squeezing gently.

You pause, assessing his answer, before nodding. "Okay, offer still stands if you reconsider. I have until this wraps up to decide."

You reach for your bag but he beats you to it, grabbing it once more as the two of you make your way out of the room and down the hallway. You pause briefly outside of Jack's room, wanting to see him but decide against it. You don't want to risk waking him up and getting him all excited.

Aaron notes your pause and with you leaving once again despite there being ballet tickets booked for Saturday, he knows you're going to have to disappoint Jack on that front. He meets your eyes and smiles softly, understanding in his eyes. You don't usually make promises you can't keep with Jack. That's always been more so his thing.

The two of you reach the foyer once more and you turn around and grab the bag from Aaron's hands. The driver is still waiting for you outside.

"Kiss him for me? I'll call as soon as I can."

He nods. "Of course sweetheart."

You lean up quickly, a quick brush of your lips against his that he's quick to reciprocate. His arms wind around your back, lips greedily moving against yours. He'll make the most of any opportunity he has with you right now. He won't squander a single second. Not when every kiss like this leads to your extended absence each time. Not when every kiss is only a reminder of all the kisses the two of you have missed out on lately. Not when neither of you are ever sure which kiss could be the last.

You move away, your eyes sparkling once more in a way that is so familiar to him that it causes a pang in his chest just to have a glimpse of them like this, if only for a moment. If only even as you're leaving. He'll take it. He'll take whatever you can give. Anything. Everything.

Then you're out the door and he watches the driver exit and take your bag for you. You wave quickly, urging him to go back inside. Then you're gone. Just like that, you're gone.

*------------*

The team had moved on to another case after being banned from the Busch murder investigation. As it stood, the official party line was that they were deferring to the will of the higher ups. Rossi had even brought the matter to Strauss's attention, and while she had been surprised by what had transpired, she'd told them both that it was entirely out of her hands. The decision had come down from McKinney directly and there was no changing his mind.

It had been about a week since he'd seen you off, during which you'd called once to apologize to Jack for having to miss the ballet. Jack had taken it well enough, and you'd promised that you were going to do your best to make it up him. You'd already lined up Prentiss to fill in for you, knowing Jack would appreciate having Auntie Emily to spoil him for the evening. Aaron had spoken with you then, and you'd told him that you would do your best to figure out the Garcia situation. The team was struggling working with Kevin Lynch; he simply lacked Garcia's natural talents.

Aaron, however, finds himself far more concerned about you. He knows that ultimately Garcia would be fine. He'd already submitted a request to have her reinstated and even Strauss was supporting him in getting her back as soon as possible. However, with you, he feels entirely helpless. Obviously the assignment with Interpol had you run ragged and you'd even confessed that not everything was alright, but with your differing levels of clearance at the moment, there wasn't much he could say or do to be of any assistance. As a result, your conversations together are brief – soft exchanges where he reminds you that he's there when you need him, whispered acknowledgements from you riddled with a pain that makes his heart ache for you. He knows too well how difficult it is to keep anything secret between the two of you, and this is something that you so obviously want to share with him, that it is painful for him to watch you struggle through it without being able to do just that.

Having just landed the night before from a case in Milwaukee, Aaron is busy reading through everyone's reports, his eyes glazing over Reid's – he expects nothing but the utmost thoroughness there. Looking it over is a formality at best. Not that he'd admit that to anyone else. Morgan, however, had confided in Aaron that whilst he'd been unit chief, he'd given up reviewing Reid's reports altogether. Aaron had to think he was getting soft with age – or maybe it was due to the kinder friendship he shared with Morgan nowadays. His only reaction had been a light chuckle, much to Morgan's surprise.

There's a knock at his door, interrupting his perusal, to which he grants entrance.

Looking up, he sees you standing there, a plain black suit hanging off of you, matching the dark circles that are plainly visible on your face. Your hair is pulled away from your face and tied up professionally and, surprisingly, you're wearing flat shoes. He can't remember ever seeing you wear flat shoes around the office, almost always opting for something with at least a slight heel. It's as though all pretense has left you, leaving behind only you in the rawest form – unable to pretend to be alright any longer.

"Hi." You walk in, forcing a  slight smile. The smile doesn't manage to reach your eyes.

He's about to stand so he can walk around to greet you, but you interrupt him with a quick shake of your head, raising your hand to stop him. "It's alright. I just came to drop this off."

You place a piece of paper on his desk, which he's quick to reach for, fingers brushing against yours. You pull back quickly. He doesn't say anything, unsure what to make of that. Maybe he'd imagined it.

They're reinstatement papers for Garcia. Her suspension was over.

"Thank you," he says quietly, looking up to meet your eyes. You blink and look down. He doesn't think he's ever seen you look quite so…frail. It makes all of his worries from the past week compound, and he's once again making to stand so he can greet you properly.

"It's alri–"

He's reached you before you can stop him again and as he reaches out for you he detects a nearly imperceptible flinch as his hand reaches up towards your arm. He stops, his stomach lurching. You don't flinch away from him. Ever.

"Sweetheart, are you sure you're alright?" he asks, making sure his voice is low and soft, as unthreatening as possible.

You look up to meet his eyes and you just look so entirely defeated. As if someone had stolen what little hope you might've had that this – whatever this was – would turn out alright.

"Um – yeah. It's fine. Don – don't worry about it." You take a deep breath and he can see you donning the mask once more. The mask that would allow you to walk out of his office. The one that had likely slipped in his presence out of habit, despite any attempts to keep it in place. Keep whatever was going on, hidden from him too. He's at once heartened to realize that you can't fake it in front of him if you tried, and terrified that you'd tried at all.

"Y/N – "

You're shaking your head, so he stops. He doesn't know what to do. How to help.

"I'm going to be off the grid for a bit," you inform him matter-of-factly, your voice clear and concise once more. "Might be hard to reach me, but if you need something, you should be able to go through McKinney."

You've turned around and are already walking away.

"Hey, wait."

His voice stops you at the door and you turn around towards him, eyebrow raised in question.

There's nothing more he can say at this moment. Nothing to convince you to stay or let go of this assignment. It would be futile and he knows it. Whatever it is that you're working through, he trusts that you'd tell him if you possibly could. Without that, the only thing he can do is hope and pray that this is over soon. That you come back to him safe and sound. So he says the only thing he can say.

"I love you."

You take a shallow, shuddered breath, your jaw clenching as you meet his worried gaze. There's a moment where he thinks that maybe you're about to simply give in – throw caution to the wind and tell him everything, consequences be damned. It passes as quickly as it appeared, however. You offer him the barest of smiles that's gone before he can truly bask in its arrival.

"I know."

With that, you're gone. He watches as you walk down the stairs, steps slowing down slightly behind Prentiss and Morgan's desks. Neither of them look up towards you. You continue on towards the elevators and then you're gone.

*------------*

Dave was coming for dinner that evening, and Aaron had just filled him in on your quick appearance earlier that afternoon. He's packing up his belongings while Dave waits for him, when Strauss peaks her head in to his office.

"Heading out?" she asks, looking from him to Dave.

Aaron nods.

Dave smiles and gestures her in. "I have a dinner date with a six year old. Aaron is chaperoning."

She lets out a light laugh and Aaron can't help but think that it's an odd sound coming from her. He's never going to get used to Strauss and Dave being a thing. He's almost grateful that you aren't there, as the last couple of times the two of you have seen Dave interacting with Strauss, you've gone out of your way to whisper the most disgustingly inappropriate things to him about the two of them and their supposed debauched sex lives. He could do without those particular nightmares.

"Aaron, I just wanted to drop off this paperwork for you. Agent L/N has already signed it, so it just requires your signature. Feel free to drop it off tomorrow." She hands him an envelope before breezing out of the room and wishing them both a good evening.

Aaron looks up to find Dave's face reflecting his own curiosity. What required yours and his signatures? The paperwork for your designation change had gone through a while ago.

He opens up the envelope and looks at the header. His vision starts to blur around the edges and he might have stumbled slightly, alarming Dave in the process, who marches forward and helps steady him, before grabbing the papers from Aaron's hands.

"Dissolution of Consensual Relationship Agreement?" Dave's words echo through the room and yet to Aaron it is as though he hears them from underwater. The big block lettering. Your signature on the line. Your delicate script outlining your name.

His heartbeat has sped up quite a bit. His hands feel clammy, his breath coming in short spurts. The ringing in his ears – always present in the background and easily ignored – is a high pitched whine as blood rushes madly through his veins.

"Aaron, look at me."

He looks up at Dave, who appears stunned despite his calm and direct voice. Aaron just feels numb. He surpassed shock within the first second. He's strictly at numbness now. His mouth feels dry as though there was a cotton ball in there. He blinks repeatedly as he tries to focus on Dave's face.

"Aaron, do you truly believe Y/N would ever end things with you in this way? Really?"

Would you? He has to think you wouldn't. There would be a conversation. Nothing had happened. Well, obviously something had happened, but nothing had happened between the two of you. Your things were still at home. You hadn't uttered a single word of this to him today, despite having come by to drop off Garcia's paperwork. Sure, that interaction hadn't been wonderful. It had left him with a deep concern that had occupied much of his thoughts the rest of the afternoon. But truly, no. Nothing was wrong with the two of you. At least, nothing that he knew of.

He slowly shakes his head.

"Exactly. She wouldn't. Look, something is obviously going on, but it boils down to one question. Do you trust her?"

He nods. Yes. Of course he trusts you. There is no one he trusts more.

"Alright, then let's not overreact. Once she's back, I'm sure there's some sort of reasonable explanation for this."

Dave's right. Aaron knows that he's right.

Even if he isn't, he's going to choose to believe him for now. The alternative would crush him entirely. He can't afford that. Not yet. Not until he's seen you and you confirm it one way or the other.

He takes a deep breath, looking from Dave to the papers that are still in his hand. Leaning forward, he grabs a pen from the cup on his desk. He knows what he has to do.

[twiceblackvelvet]

Can I request some 2jin soulmate angst with a happy ending please? (If you’d rather it could be with taengsic instead) thank you in advance and it’s okay if you don’t want to write it

warning; internalized lesbophobia kinda?

a/n; didn’t go the stereotypical soulmates route for this, also left it open-ended for interpretation but yeah... here you go. 

Heejin understands the concept of soulmates. After all, she has watched plenty of romantic-comedies in her time to know how the story goes. Boy meets girl and girl falls in love. The boy can’t believe his luck, they get married and start a family together. They live happily ever after. It’s an age-old tale that always tugs at her heartstrings. Whenever there’s a movie night within the dorm, she will often recommend the sappiest kind possible. However, everyone else grew tired of the same storyline repeated but with different faces. As Haseul had politely put it, her right to pick had been revoked.  Instead, she rests easily in her bed late at night, watching them on her phone. Though, she’s never alone. 

Sharing a bed with Hyunjin started very early into the two moving into the dorm. “I’m scared of the dark” is how it began. Hyunjin and her big, dark eyes could bore into your soul with a single glance, and Heejin can’t help but give in to her. While everyone else is either snoring or too busy scrolling through their phone to care. She creeps into Heejin’s room, and they share snacks while watching any film Heejin wants. Hyunjin doesn’t mind the cheesy lines and kissing scenes. Because when Heejin does finally drift off to sleep, she imagines the pair of them in the very same film-scenes, except they aren’t acting. 

Hyunjin has tried many times over to make her intentions clear. But, Heejin seemingly walks around blindfolded as everyone else has managed to put the pieces together, except her. If there were an award for the most oblivious person in the world, Heejin would be the definitive winner. The rest of the girls even put together a plan for Hyunjin to reveal her feelings once-upon-a-time. However, Heejin mistakenly thought that when Hyunjin spluttered out the words, I love you... she had meant it in a friendly manner. 

Eventually, they all gave up trying to help Hyunjin get over her fear of asking Heejin to be her girlfriend straight up. The advice being given that if something is meant to be, as Hyunjin feels it is, then it will happen when she least expects it to happen. The waiting is unbearable, though. All she wants is to be able to hold Heejin’s hand when they lay together without her thinking they are just best friends.  She desperately wishes to know what kissing Heejin feels like. Are her lips soft? Do they taste like her chapstick? Would she feel the spark that the movies claim happens? She needs to know. 

It’s no different from any other night between them. Heejin with the duvet up to her neck, phone in hand underneath it, and only one headphone in her ear as she waits for Hyunjin to join her. The bed is surprisingly cold without her presence. Heejin briefly thinks about how she misses her arms around her waist. But as quickly as the thought enters her head, she erases it. 

Hyunjin paces back and forth maniacally on the other side of the door.  The nails on her thumbs both down to the skin from biting them anxiously. “Tonight is the night,” she whispers to herself before hesitantly opening the door. 

"There you are. Come on, it's cold in here without you," Heejin says, excitedly. Hyunjin can feel the beating of her heart pick up speed inside her chest. Something about knowing Heejin had been waiting for her to join makes her excited. "Hello? Earth to Hyunjin! Are you getting into bed or what?" 

Hyunjin rocks back and forth on the heels of her feet. Outside of the room, she wasn't nervous at all. But, seeing Heejin here, bare-faced and unaware of how perfect she looks, it's hard not to feel scared. She rubs her palms on her pajamas to get rid of the sweat between her fingers. Her feet make small steps toward the bed where Heejin is lying. However, instead of climbing under the duvet beside her, as she usually would. She sits at the bottom of the bed with an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

"What's wrong?" Heejin asks, worry evident in her voice. She pauses the movie she's watching and sits up straight. 

Trying her best to focus on anything other than Heejin's confused face, Hyunjin heaves a deep sigh before standing to turn on the lamp on the bedside table. She sits closer to Heejin this time around and asks for her hand to hold. Heejin offers it instantly and rubs her thumb along the back of her hand reassuringly. It’s distracting more than anything. 

"I have to tell you something, but... I want you to hear me this time." Hyunjin's words are slow and cautious. Heejin continues to hold her hand tightly. "I know that this will change some things between us, but I can't go on with this anymore." 

Heejin doesn't speak. Her mouth rests in a straight line while her eyes remain on Hyunjin's face watching her expressions change as she continues to talk. Hyunjin knows she has her full attention, and that is scarier than anything else.

"You remember when I told you that I loved you that day we made food for the others together?" Heejin nods, understanding and recalling the day that Hyunjin is referring to. "Well, you thought I meant I love you, as my friend. Which... I do. But..." 

Hyunjin pauses and closes her eyes shut. The wall beside Heejin that she has been looking at instead of her is taunting her inside her head. Her breathing becomes unsteady, hitching every few seconds, and her skin grows cold. Heejin pushes herself forward on the bed and wraps her arms around her neck in a gentle hug. 

The two don't exchange any other words in the embrace, and they remain glued there for several minutes until Hyunjin eventually removes Heejin's arms from around her. Her cheeks are damp from a few tears escaping from her eyes, and the flushed red look of her skin hasn't disappeared. Nor does she believe it ever will when Heejin wipes her tears with the same thumb she rubbed across the back of her hand. 

"Please, Heejin. I just have to tell you this." Hyunjin says while pushing Heejin's hands away from her face. "I love you, like how those two love each other." She says while pointing at the long since discarded phone resting on the pillow. 

Heejin turns to look at what she's pointing at. However, when she realizes, she doesn't turn her head back toward Hyunjin. She's stuck there, and her body won't let her look at her. The bed shifts slightly, and then the door closes quietly, as Hyunjin escapes to her room.  Heejin can feel a tightness, almost pressure, inside of her chest as she figures out what Hyunjin had just admitted to. 

"This can't be real," Heejin thinks. "She can't be in love with me... we're both... girls." 

The following morning at breakfast is awkward, to say the least. The tension within the kitchen as everyone sits down to eat the preferred first meal of the day could be cut with a knife. Haseul, Sooyoung, and Yeojin sit quietly in one corner, discussing something in hushed voices. Hyunjin is seated beside their gathering, though not participating in their conversation. While Jiwoo, Chaewon, and Yerim pick at some fruit at the dining table. The rest of the girls are busy hovering around Hyejoo as she carefully turns on the stove, likely, making fun of her. 

Heejin enters slowly, not sure of where to place herself. Usually, she would sit beside Hyunjin and joke about how she will turn into a piece of fruit one of these days since she eats it that often. The seat beside her today is taken. But even if it wasn't occupied, Heejin doubts she would be welcome. She instead joins in watching Hyejoo attempt to cook, though she struggles to focus on anything other than Hyunjin and last night.

The rest of the girls leave the kitchen area one by one to get on with their day. Some of them have schedules, others have booked in practice time. However, Haseul remains seated in the corner while Heejin finishes up her breakfast. They don't speak, neither knowing what to say. But, Heejin gathers that Hyunjin has told her about what had happened between them. All of the girls go to Haseul when a problem arises.  She can’t imagine that this would be any different. 

"Look, I-"

"Heejin, can we-" 

The pair try to speak at the same moment. Heejin nods slowly to allow Haseul to speak her mind first. She hopes beyond hope that Haseul has even the smallest bit of wisdom for her, if only so her head will stop pulsating.  

"What happened between you two?" Haseul asks. 

"You mean she didn't tell you?" Haseul shakes her head no, and Heejin sighs softly. "She... She told me that she loves me." 

Haseul grins wide, proud of Hyunjin for doing so, though, when she sees that Heejin isn't sharing her enthusiasm, her smile drops. She moves to a seat closer to Heejin and patiently waits for her to continue. 

"She loves me, like how couples love each other." Heejin's voice is shaky and unsure as she reveals it all while trying to wrap her head around it herself. "But, we're girls... she can't love me. I can't love her... Can I?" she questions. 

The two sit in silence briefly, Haseul unsure of whether the question required an answer or not. But when Heejin doesn't continue, she decides to offer her a response.

"Love is not something you can pick and choose, Heejin. You love who you love, and that can be anyone. Your heart has control here, not your head." Haseul stands, places her hand on Heejin's shoulder comfortingly, and leaves her to ponder her words. 

It's almost an hour later when Heejin finally leaves the kitchen. The cup of coffee she had poured herself untouched but cold. She pours it down the sink and retreats to her bedroom. Hiding her body beneath the duvet, she slowly slips into a nap that lasts for several hours longer than intended. The shouts for her to wake up for lunch are ignored in favor of sleeping the day away. 

It's late when Heejin rises from her slumber. Her head feels as though it has been hit by ten buses one after the other. The clarity she had hoped to gain nowhere to be seen. Instead, her head feels even fuzzier than before somehow. 

The same phone she uses to watch those cheesy romance films rests beside her on the mattress. She unlocks it and opens up the browser. The search option is found, and she tries her best to look for anything relating to their situation. A few articles pop-up about same-sex-dating, but she ignores those in favor of a video. The still-frame shows two women kissing one another. It makes her uncomfortable momentarily, but she presses play regardless. 

They discuss their relationship, how they met, where they had their first date, all of it. Both girls' eyes light up whenever they recall specific moments or whenever their legs brush against one another. They're happy and excited to share their life with others. Heejin can feel pressure in her chest similar to what she had felt when she realized what Hyunjin meant. This time, it isn't as scary. It's warm and inviting. So much so, she doesn’t feel the tears slowly slide down her face as she listens to them enthusiastically share the news they are engaged.

Heejin closes the video as it ends and sits at the edge of her bed. All of the movies make it seem like the two soulmates have naturally fallen in love with each other. They look at one another with bright eyes, and their smiles are contagious. She wonders if that's how people see her and Hyunjin. If when they look at them, they see two people who are meant to be together. 

She does love Hyunjin. Of course, she does. Who wouldn't? But, whenever she has contemplated her future, she has always pictured herself marrying a man, settling down with him, and being happy. Even so, she can't help but consider Haseul's words, that her head doesn't get to decide. Whatever she has seen inside of her mind doesn't matter. Because her heart has to find the right one to love. 

Her fingers tap on the screen typing out a text message, though, she erases it several times over to begin again. Finally, she settles on asking Hyunjin to join her tonight, despite everything. Hyunjin doesn't respond, though, she expected that to happen.

The movie of choice tonight is an action-thriller. Yerim and Chaewon believe it's the film of the year. Everyone else thinks they're only interested in one of the actors playing a supporting role. It's about twenty minutes and double that amount of explosions later when Heejin leaves them to it. Haseul offers a quick smile and mouths "good luck" before turning back to the television screen, though her eyes flick toward Hyunjin now and then. Her expression is one of confusion and mildly upset. But it isn't long before she too stands and leaves the room. 

Once more, Heejin's bedroom door opens slowly. From the small crack, she knows already that it is indeed Hyunjin. The way her fingers grasp onto the door, the way she hesitantly steps foot inside, the way her eyes glimmer under the bedroom light. Her skin glows, despite the clear sadness on her face. Then it hits her. 

All this time, whenever Hyunjin would sneak into her room, she had been telling herself that she just felt sorry for her friend. Truly believing that she was scared of the dark and needed to be beside her to rest. But, what she refused to allow herself to think was that she needed her here to feel safe too. She needed Hyunjin beside her, in what she has called their bed for months, to be able to sleep herself, peacefully. 

Maybe, just maybe... her heart had chosen for her all those months ago, without her realizing it. Perhaps instead of visualizing her future with a man, she was only hiding away what she has now come to figure out. The pressure rises again in her chest as Hyunjin stands before her, beautiful as ever, and waiting for her… The woman she loves, and who may just love her back all the same.

"Hyunjin... I have something I need to tell you." 

[prettyboyjackhughes]

-Little Crosby- |D. Cozens| [Part 5]

Part 5 is here! This part was so much fun to write and I can’t wait to see what you guys think! @prettyboycozens​ and I had so many ideas for this part and it was so much fun to write them! Enjoy!

“You-You came!” I stutter as he pulls away, finally catching my breath.

“You really think I would miss one of my girl’s biggest days?” He asks, his arms still wrapped around my waist, keeping me pressed against him.

“Hi Dylan.” Carter says, gently squeezing his arm as she walks past. He nods, glancing back at me.

“She’s doing okay? After everything?” Dylan asks, looking down at me as I rest my head against his chest. I nod, taking a deep breath to regain my composure.

“Glad to have you here. We would’ve missed you today.” Dad says, walking up and squeezing Dylan’s shoulder. Dad’s finally started to really warm up to the idea of Dylan being around. And while he hasn’t really been “around”, Dad and him have actually started texting and talking when I’m on the phone with Dylan every night. Usually I get Dylan for the majority of the night but Dad usually steals him from me for at least an hour. They talk hockey and all their boring guy stuff that I choose to not listen to.

“I’m glad I got to be here for my girl’s special day. But Avs, I wish I could stay longer. I have to be back tomorrow morning.” With that, my heart falls a little.

“So you’re only here for the night?” I ask, looking up at Dylan. He nods, leaning down to drop a kiss on my forehead. Dad ushers the rest of our family away and leaves Dylan and I to talk.

“I really need to spend some time with my girl though, so what do you say about heading home?” And head home we did. From the time we got home at 2:30 that afternoon to 5:30 in the morning when Dylan had to leave for the airport, I was attached to him. It was the shortest 15 hours of my life and I didn’t want it to end.

“Baby, I gotta get up.” Dylan whispers, gently pushing my hair out of my face. I sigh, realizing that my time with my boyfriend is coming to an end.

“I hate this just as much as you do. But it’s only a little longer. Just a couple more weeks.” Dylan says, letting me cuddle into his chest.

“Can you just hold me a little longer? I need something to hold me over till the draft.” He nods, his arms wrapping around me and lacing our fingers together. The next time Dylan and I would be together would be in June for the draft, a little over a month away. I had been away from him for longer before but getting him back, even for a little bit, would make me miss him more.

“You know you can call me, text me, anything, whenever. I’ll always answer. Well unless I’m busy but I’ll always make time for you, Sweetheart.” I nod, looking up at him. He smiles and kisses the tip of my nose.

“You’re beautiful.” Then he kisses my cheek.

“You’re smart.” He kisses my forehead.

“I’m in love with you.” And then, his lips ghost over mine.

“And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He whispers against my lips. His hand cups my cheek and he kisses me. It’s soft, gentle and loving.

“You make me not want to leave.” He whispers against my lips. I sit up and look at him, admiring him lying there in my bed.

“I like seeing you lying in my bed.” I whisper, tracing my finger down his chest. He smirks as I trace the outline of his abs.

“I like lying in your bed. Especially when you’re there with me. But, on that note, I need to get going. My flight leaves in 2 hours.” He says, punctuating his sentence by kissing me. Again, I sigh and he untangles his body from mine. As I sit up in bed and pull my knees into my chest, he starts moving around the room and gathering up the few things he brought with him.

“Hey I’m leaving this here. I want it back when I pick you up from the airport in June. It’ll be like I’m there with you at night.” Dylan says, holding up one of his Lethbridge Hurricanes sweatshirts. I lay my head on my arms and watch him, smiling.

“We’re gonna be okay, Kid. It’s gonna be alright.” He says, bending down to look at me.

“Ava Grace, I love you.” He says, kissing me again. I run my hand through his hair before he stands up and gets his bag.

“I love you too, Dyl. See you in June.” I say, finally climbing out of bed and hugging him. He lifts me off the ground and I wrap my legs around his waist. After savoring having him close one last time before he leaves for the airport, he sets me down on the ground and kisses me one more time.

“The month is gonna fly by. Before you know it, I’ll get to kiss you again.” And those words were what kept me going for the whole month we were apart. Plus too many facetime calls and text messages. And finally, after way too long, I collided with Dylan in the middle of the airport.

“God, you guys must’ve missed each other or something.” Kirby says, from behind him. Carter coughs and Kirby’s eyes meet her’s. Dylan and I watch the exchange, his arm resting around my waist.

“Uh, hi...Carter.” Kirby says, looking at her. Neither Dylan or I had thought about the fact that Kirby and Carter hadn’t seen each other since they broke up. But I don’t go anywhere without Carter anymore and Kirby is being drafted too so we were bound to see him.

“Hey.” She says, running her hand through her hair and avoiding his eyes.

“So...Where’s the sweatshirt?” Dylan asks, looking down at me as we walk out of the airport, my duffel bag in Dylan’s hand.

“The sweatshirt is in the bag, and it doesn’t smell like you anymore so please fix that.” I say, looking up at him. He smiles and leans down to kiss my temple.

“I missed you, Baby.” He says, pulling me into his side as we head to the car. Even with the awkwardness of Carter and Kirby, it’s still the 4 of us. We’ve spent the last 2 years together and I was beyond thankful that what had happened between Kirby and Carter hadn’t changed our friendship.

The two days leading up to the draft were spent wandering around Vancouver, just Carter and I since the boys had interviews and meetings with important NHL people. But every night, Dylan came back to the hotel and me. We spent the nights watching movies, eating room service and cuddling. Carter and Kirby avoided each other at least the first day but then Kirby asked her to get coffee with him one morning and now I know they’re at least on talking terms.  

As I roll over in the bed Dylan and I have shared for the last two nights, I get hit with the realization that today would decide Dylan and I’s future.

It was draft day, probably the biggest day of his life. He was hiding how nervous he was really well, all things considered. We knew he would get picked pretty high, hopefully within the first 10 picks but we had no idea when or where he would go. But before all the fun and excitement could begin, he and I were going to lunch with his parents and brothers. This would be my first time meeting his family in person, instead of just over the phone or on facetime. I was a little nervous but Dylan said they all loved me already. Carter had disappeared around 11 last night and wasn’t in her room, which was connected to our’s, when I woke up to check at 4 in the morning. She and Kirby had seen each other for the first time in months two days ago, and I almost wonder if she ended up in Kirby’s bed last night. I shrug off the blankets and get out of bed. I still needed to shower and get ready before we met up with Dylan’s family.

“Come back!” I hear Dylan whine from the other side of the bed as I walk towards the bathroom.

“I have to get ready. We can cuddle later.” I say as I twist my hair up and clip it back out of my face.

“But I wanna cuddle now.” He complains, tossing a pillow in my general direction. I shake my head and disappear back into the bathroom. As I finish getting ready to get in the shower, I hear him finally get out of bed and start moving around. Suddenly, right as I’m about to get in the shower, the door flies open.

“You didn’t kiss me good morning.” He says, crossing his arms and looking down at me. I clutch the towel I have wrapped around me a little tighter and rise up on my tiptoes to kiss him. As I pull away, I roll my eyes and nudge him back out of the bathroom.

“Get ready while I’m in the shower please?” I call as I drop my towel on the counter and step into the shower.

“Okay miss bossy!” Dylan yells back, earning himself a smirk and another eye roll.

“You’re lucky you’re cute!” He calls as I turn the water on. I shake my head and focus on showering.

It’s fun being with Dylan. This is the longest we’ve spent together since graduation in May and I’m enjoying every minute of my time with him before the chaos that will be when we head to Buffalo. We’ve also been talking about our future together a lot lately. And I really love the idea of a future with him. Living with him in the summers, finishing school and becoming a nurse, getting married one day in the future, having kids. It sounds like heaven and the future I want more than anything. I want it all with Dylan. As I think about what that future will hopefully be like, Carter bursts into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Ava!” She says, pushing herself up onto the counter.

“Hi? Where were you last night?” I ask as I rinse the shampoo out of my hair.

“I may have ended up running into Kirby in the hallway…” I raise my eyebrow, opening the curtain a little to stick my head out and look at her. From the grin covering her face, I assume things went well.

“So you slept in his room?” I ask, returning to my shower.

“Well, there wasn’t much sleeping…” She says, giggling. I groan and shut the shower off.

“Carter Marie, hand me my towel. I don’t wanna hear the details of your night adventures with Kirby.” I say, sticking my hand out of the shower. She laughs, hands it to me and starts to ramble on about his mouth and fingers. I pretend to gag as I wrap the towel around my body.

“Please for the love of God stop!” I shout, rushing out of the bathroom and away from her. Dylan looks up from where he’s sitting on our bed and raises an eyebrow.

“Do I even want to know?” He asks as Carter follows me out of the bathroom. She smirks and shakes her head.

“You two are going to lunch before the draft right?” Carter asks, flopping onto the bed behind Dylan as I dig through my suitcase for the black skirt and white long sleeve shirt that’s open in the back I packed to wear to lunch. Dylan was just wearing ripped jeans and a black t-shirt, keeping it casual since it’s just his family.

“Yeah. We’ll be out till like 1:30ish and then come back here and start getting ready then and leave around 3ish to go to the arena.” Dylan answers. Carter nods, watching me attempt to get dressed without flashing her and Dylan.

“So we have to be ready by 2:45?” I ask, checking my outfit in the mirror. As I’m heading back into the bathroom to start doing my makeup and hair, there’s a knock on our door. As I start blow drying my hair, Kirby walks past and waves. The 3 of them spend the next 45 minutes hanging out while I get ready.

“Stop freaking out Ava. They’re gonna like you.” Kirby says as he and Carter walk with us down to the lobby of the hotel.

“You’ve already met all of them over the phone. What’s different now?” Carter asks, leaning against Kirby as we stand by the door. Dylan’s arm is around my waist and he seems to be thinking about something.

“Go have fun you two! Ava, you’ll be fine!” Carter calls as we head out to Dylan’s car.

“You seem so calm today. I’m the one freaking out. Or are you super nervous and just hiding it?” I ask as he opens the passenger side door for me.

“I honestly haven’t thought about it a lot today. I know I’m going 1st round and that’s all I care about. Plus you’re here, with me and honestly, that’s all I care about.” He says, smiling and leaning over to kiss me softly. My hand cups his cheek and as he pulls away, he smiles.

“I love you. But I’m still freaking out.” He rolls his eyes and starts the car. We’re going to a restaurant in downtown Vancouver, some place that Jack’s older brother recommended. It’s about a 20 minute drive from the hotel and Dylan’s hand doesn’t leave mine. We’re going through another phase where we have to constantly be touching each other. For me, it’s mostly just reassuring me that he’s actually there with me and it’s not all just my imagination. He just enjoys the fact that he can put his hands in places and get me to blush. Last night, while we were watching some show he had picked off of Netflix, he had stolen a kiss but just as quickly as he had pulled away, things heated back up. I ended up straddling him, my fingers in his hair and his hands resting dangerously close to my ass. I was willing to keep going with him but he stopped, looked at me and sighed.

“I want the first time with you to be perfect. You deserve it. But I wouldn’t mind making out with you a little more.” I smiled and leaned in to kiss him again, the show on Netflix long forgotten.

“Ava and Dylan are here!” Luke yells, running towards the two of us as Dylan and I climb out of the car at the restaurant. He immediately hugs Dylan and then turns to me.

“She’s hot.” Luke says, looking over at Dylan. Dylan shoves his brother and smirks.

“I know she’s hot. She’s my girlfriend.” Dylan says as he takes my hand.

“Hi Mom, Dad. What’s up Connor?” Dylan says, hugging his parents and then dabbing his brother up.

“Hello Ava, nice to finally meet you in person!” Dylan’s mom says, reaching out and hugging me.

“Hi Mrs. Cozens! It’s so nice to finally meet you!” She pulls back and looks at me.

“Sweetheart, you can call me Sue. You’re practically family anyways.” I smile and look back at Dylan who is grinning. I slide back over to his side and look up at him.

“I seriously love you so much.” He says, kissing the top of my head and following his parents into the restaurant. His brothers bombard me with questions the whole time, making sure my face does not fade from bright red. Dylan just laughs, occasionally defending me every once in a while. His parents are absolutely amazing and the sweetest people.

“You know, Ava, I’m a really good hugger. And cuddler.” Luke says, crossing his arms and looking over at me. Dylan coughs, choking on the drink of water he had just taken.

“Oh are you? Better than Dylan?” He nods, a smirk growing on his face. Dylan’s two little brothers look alike and both look like him. They’re obviously close and love each other a lot. Both of the younger boys look up to Dylan a lot, that’s obvious from some of the things they’ve said tonight while talking about the draft.

“I’m much better than Dylan. Plus I’ve got the muscles. Dyl doesn’t have that.” I laugh and smile, patting Dylan’s thigh.

“I might have to leave you for Luke, Honey.” Dylan pretends to be sad and everyone laughs. The rest of the time is spent laughing, joking and just getting to know each other. I love being with their family.

“See? I told you you had nothing to worry about.” Dylan says after we part ways with his family for the next few hours. It’s time to head back to the hotel to get ready for the draft and honestly, I’m getting more and more nervous for Dylan. He seems perfectly calm, cool and collected; just like he always is. Carter meets the two of us back at the hotel and helps me get ready. She picked out a navy blue wrap around dress with a lower cut in the front, and black heels. She manages to get my hair to hold curls for longer than 30 seconds and works her magic on my face.

“I swear, you’re a magician.” I say, glancing in the mirror as she stands behind me, smiling.

“No, you’re just that pretty.” She says, hugging my shoulders. Kirby, Dylan, Carter and I are all riding the NHL charter bus to the arena, since the boys both are being featured in some welcome to the NHL thing. Dylan keeps me by his side at all times, even during all the interviews and important things before the draft. But eventually, he gets pulled away and Carter swoops in to wander around with me.

“I know I’ve told you at least 10 times but you look hot.” Carter says, nudging me as we walk into the arena.

“Only because you’re my personal stylist.” I laugh, linking my arm through her’s. She flips her hair and we both laugh.

“Hey Ava, Carter.” Jack says, nodding at both of us as we walk past.

“Okay I know I’ve said this at least 10 times but he’s hot too. My God.” Carter whispers, watching Jack walk away. I roll my eyes and laugh. About 20 minutes later, Dylan and Kirby find us and take us to our seats for the night. Everything seems like a blur after that. The first 6 picks come and go and Dylan is still sitting next to me. His knee is shaking and I press my hand to it, causing him to freeze and look at me.

“You’re okay, Honey.” And as he looks at me, the definition of love in his eyes, the Sabres logo goes up on the screen.          

“To announce our 7th overall pick, please welcome to the stage 1st overall pick in the 2005 draft and captain of the Pittsburgh Penguins, Sidney Crosby.” The Sabres’ GM announces. Dylan looks over at me, a confused look covering his face. Both his parents and his brother are whispering back and forth. The whole arena is buzzing, trying to figure out why Sidney Crosby, a Penguin, is announcing the Sabres’ draft pick.

“With the 7th overall pick, the Buffalo Sabres select from the Lethbridge Hurricanes, Dylan Cozens.” Dad says, smiling and stepping away from the podium. Dylan stands up, a huge grin across his face and pulls me in for a hug.

“Did you know about this?” He asks as he hugs me. I shake my head and bite back the urge to cry. As he hugs his parents, Dad happens to look up to where we’re sitting. I wave and blow him a kiss. I had no idea about him announcing Dylan’s draft pick but it makes me smile so hard. Dad really has accepted Dylan as part of our family and I know he loves the idea of Dylan and I having a future together.

“Did you know your dad was announcing Dylan’s pick?” Carter asks me, dragging Kirby behind her as we meet up after the draft.

“No! I didn’t even know Dad was coming up here!” I say, looking behind me as Dylan’s arms encircle my waist.

“Your dad is looking for you.” He says before kissing my cheek. I turn in his arms and slide my hands around his neck, pulling him down to kiss me.

“Congratulations, Baby.” I whisper, kissing him again. He still has a goofy grin plastered on his face as my dad suddenly appears next to us.

“Daddy! Why didn’t you tell me you were announcing his pick?” I ask, hugging him and then looking up at him.

“It was supposed to be a surprise. Congratulations, Dylan. You’re going to do great things in Buffalo.” Dad says, surprisingly hugging Dylan. I try to hide my surprise and cover my mouth. Dylan steps away from Dad and grins.

“Thank you, Sir. It means a lot, hearing you announce me being picked.” Dad smiles and then gets pulled away to either do an interview or talk to some important person. Dylan returns to me and I attach myself to his side.

“I’m proud of you.” I say, looking up at him. He smiles and traces circles on my back. Carter and Kirby are off, talking to Kirby’s parents. Kirby keeps glancing down at Carter who is talking animatedly to his mom and has this lovestruck grin on his face.

“Hey, I’m getting tired and I’m done with everything for the night. Ready to head back to the hotel? Our bed is calling my name.” Dylan says, pushing my hair behind my ear as he strokes my cheek. I nod, leaning into his hand. He interlaces our fingers and leads me out of the crowded room. The walk out to our car is short and the drive to the hotel only a few minutes but it feels like an eternity. Dylan and I have been around people all day and I’m ready for it to just be the two of us. He opens the passenger door for me, helping me out. He immediately pulls me to his side and we head into the hotel. Dylan’s hand rests dangerously low as we walk back into the hotel lobby. People keep coming up and congratulating him, which makes his smile grow every time. I’m so proud of him and I love seeing him this happy. But as his hands settled on my hips, tracing lazy circles, as we waited for the elevator, I start to think. The elevator doors open and he tugs me into the elevator, keeping me pressed up against him. He starts to kiss the side of my neck as I smile, thankful there’s no one else in the elevator but us. Carter and Kirby had disappeared not long after the draft ended, Dad had said hi to us then got on a flight to my grandparents. Dylan’s family had gone out to dinner with Kirby’s family so we had no responsibility and didn’t have to be anywhere.

“Did I tell you how good you looked tonight?” He whispers, his voice making me shiver.

“Y-You did.” I stutter, giving away what he was doing to me. As the elevator dings, meaning we arrived at our floor, he leaves me, leaning out the door to make sure no one is in the hallway. He then scoops me up and carries me to our door, only stopping to unlock the door. Dylan drops me on the bed and hovers over me, his biceps flexing as he holds himself up.

“Hi.” He says, smiling at me.

“Hi bub.” Our eyes lock and his flick down to my lips. He bites his and I sit up on my elbows and kiss him. His hands come up and cup my cheeks, deepening the kiss. I pull away, his hands still on my face and I smile.

“I wondered if you were feeling how I feel.” He says, stroking my cheek. I lay back down on the bed and he hovers above me.

“So is this how we’re celebrating?” I ask, looking up at him innocently.  He looks up through his eye lashes, making sure the door to Carter’s room is shut, and then back down at me and nods. I pull my feet up under me as he steps back and shrugs off his jacket, loosening his tie and tossing it to the floor, then starting to unbutton his shirt. I watch him, untying the tie on my dress and letting it slowly fall off my body, keeping direct eye contact the whole time. Dylan smirks as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispers, moving towards me tilting my chin up to kiss me. He pulls away slowly and sits down on the bed next to me and I climb onto his lap. I wrap my legs around his waist and tilt his chin up to look at me. He kisses me and then slowly, I lay him down on the bed.  His hands are on my hips, holding me close to him. I sit there, straddling him as his lips trail up and down my stomach. I grind my hips slowly against his as he moves us up the bed, one hand pressed into my back, keeping me on top of him, until he’s resting against the wall behind the bed. My hands, which had been pressed into his chest, are now pinned to the sides by his hips. His arms, strong and skillful on the ice, and his fingers, just the same, are even better in bed. He uses them to hold my hands down while he leaves marks in places only we can see. His name escapes my lips and my head falls back. Everything blurs as his hands explore more and soon, the few remaining clothes are scattered around the room and we’re both breathing hard. As I lay there, listening to his heartbeat and held close to his chest, the world seemed to stop. But not in the way you would think. It felt like everything fell away, that all that mattered was being here, with Dylan.

“I love you, you know that right?” I asked, looking up at him. His face is covered in a peaceful smile, a few strands of my hair twisted between his fingers.

“I know you love me. And you know what? I love you.” I smile, burying my face in his neck and closing my eyes.

“I’ve never doubted it.”

Tag list:

@theblushinglittle

@2manytabsopen

@nhlboyshavemyhart88

@kirbyy-dach

[voltage-vixen]

A Sleighing Secret

‘Tis the Season of Smut Challenge Day 2

Prompt: A naughty sleigh ride (NSFW)

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice

Pairing: Gavin x MC (Female)

You can still join the challenge and find more info HERE!

Sighing for what seemed to be the umpteenth one of the day, MC’s knuckles rapped against the metal surface of her desk while she waited for the workday to finally be over with. Today, MC was supposed to meet up with Gavin at the police station after she finished her shift to take him back home to her place where they were going to spend the evening cooking dinner together. At least that was the plan, until MC a secondary glance at the phone which seemed to only serve as a taunting reminder as to how much time was left in the workday left her irritated. It was Christmas Eve, and her night with Gavin consisted of hot chocolate, cuddling by the fire, him ‘unwrapping’ one of his gifts early……  

Shaking her head, MC was tired of wallowing in the office stuck in this an agonizing limbo. Concluding it was time to pull out the boss card she reserved for only the most pressing of urgencies (simply because what could be more pressing than a meetup with one’s boyfriend), MC’s fingers pounded furiously onto the keyboard as she typed out quick email explaining her sudden absence to Anna. Pressing the send button, MC shoved her phone into the pit of her purse and pretended she couldn’t hear Minor’s questions he called out from across the room as the door to the office slammed shut behind her.

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After hailing a speedy cab ride across town and paying the driver, MC admired the sight of illuminating Christmas lights wrapped around marquee of the Loveland Police Department before scurrying into the building. The columns in the entryway were decked out in garland, and even Officer Landsman seemed to be in a jolly mood with the Santa hat atop his head while stationed at the desk in the main lobby.

“Good afternoon, Officer Landsman,” MC greeted, as she approached and scribbled her name down onto the familiar visitor’s log. “You wouldn’t happen to have any idea of where I could find Mr. Gavin now, would you?”

“Same place as always when he’s not out prowling the streets for a case,” Landsman replied, printing out a temporary id badge and handing it over to MC. “Do you need me to escort you back to his office?”

Smiling since he was willing to allow her to go back on her own, MC shook her head and gave him a small wave and proceeded to bustle down the length of the hallway. Tinsel entwined around the mistletoe dangled from the ceiling twinkling brightly. Pausing to admire the meticulous detail in the decorations, MC gasped when a sharp tug yanked her into the side hallway, and a hand covered her mouth to muffle the yelp about to escape.

“Shh, it’s only me,” Gavin whispered, his palm still clamped over her lips as he discreetly ushered her towards the back door reserved for emergencies. His frown deepening, his eyes cast down onto the watch strapped to his wrist. “We’re going to sneak out since I have a surprise for you, but we have to hurry otherwise we’re going to miss our ride.”

“Our ride?” she questioned.

Ignoring MC, Gavin pushed open the door leading them beyond the walls of the station. The chilly air grazed fiercely across her face when the door swung open and they poured out onto the sidewalk. MC’s breath fogged in front of her face, and her frame shivered into the direction of the warmth radiating from Gavin’s chest. Encompassing her against his muscular chest, Gavin held MC tightly all while incoherently muttering about something being held up and taking too long. She was about to ask what in the world was going on for him to be acting so out of character, when a grand sleigh being pulled by a beautiful chestnut colored horse appeared almost magically before the duo’s eyes. Trotting gallantly through the fallen snow, the horse’s hooves clopped loudly down onto the pavement and soon stopped to present in front of the pair by striking an elegant pose.

“One romantic sleigh ride for the happy couple is here and at your service,” the driver boasted from his seat, flashing Gavin a knowing wink. “There’s a blanket in the back for your comfort, along with some canisters filled with hot chocolate.”

“Gavin! When did you find the time to arrange all of this? We weren’t supposed to meet up for another couple of hours,” MC squealed, her eyes bulging in excitement when the horse reached out to nuzzle his nose against her cheek.

“A true gentleman never reveals his secrets,” Gavin chuckled, playfully bowing down to direct MC onto the carriage. “After you, my fine lady.”

Giggling at Gavin’s exaggerated role play, MC decided to entertain him right back. Playing along, she bowed her head, made it a point to curtsey before allowing him to hold her hand and escort her into the sleigh.

“Thank you indeed, kind sir,” she engaged back.

Climbing up to join her, Gavin settled down onto the seat and ensured the blanket was tucked snugly beneath the cushion of their thighs. Once the driver noticed they were situated, he turned around and clicked his tongue to indicate to the horse that it was time to move onwards. Jingle bells draped down the sides of the sleigh harmoniously rang as they journeyed on. Snowfall began to lightly trickle from the sky, highlighting the festive lights illuminating the skyline of buildings in the city. The magnificent sight was truly equivalent to one seen in a movie. Captivated in the moment, MC hardly noticed Gavin fussing over the blanket next to her until he tapped on her shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re warm enough?” Gavin prodded, encircling his arm around MC’s waist to scootch her closer. “Because if not, I can go ahead and hail us a cab for the remainder of the trip.”

“I’m fine, Gavin,” MC murmured, fluttering her eyelashes to leave a butterfly kiss on the side of his face. “Everything is perfect. This wonderful surprise. The striking scenery. And most importantly, you’re perfect.”

The sincerity of her confession left Gavin rendered speechless, and there was only one way left he knew how to communicate in at that moment. Leaning in, the officer touched the producer’s lower lip; his teeth nibbling away before forcing his tongue between the part of her lips. He shifted his angle to deepen their kiss, eventually breaking away to pepper a trail of kisses down the nape of her neck. MC bit down hard on her lip to stifle a moan to avoid when her body broke out into a flush to avoid alerting the driver of their secret affair until-

“We should save the rest for later,” Gavin smirked, reveling at the adorable way his girlfriend would pout when she was flustered.

Meanie! I can’t believe he got we all worked up only to leave me hanging, she thought whilst glaring menacingly at Gavin.

Gone was the gentlemanly Gavin from only a few minutes prior, and instead smugly sat her man looking all proud of himself for having his share of fun by riling her up and toying with MC.

Two can play at that game.

Her eyebrows flashed suggestively when MC pressed her forehead against Gavin’s temple and slipped her hand underneath the blanket. Eyes widening, Gavin titled his head and nodded in the direction of the driver, but his frantic gesturing seemed to leave MC unfazed. Curling her fingers around the waistband of his trousers, MC placed a slender finger onto his lips urging him to keep silent while she fiddled with the front of his boxers. Unfastening the last of the buttons, the evolver’s cock sprang free and was welcomed into MC’s hand. A low hiss slipped through the purse of Gavin’s lips as her hand enveloped around the thick of his heat.

The touch of MC’s hand was so soft and delicate that his hips couldn’t help but betray him by involuntarily jerking closer to her. Gavin’s arousal was feverish to her touch, pulsating when she encircled around him and gave a firm squeeze and pumped firmly. His breathing hitched when her strokes curtailed into modest movements, her fingers occasionally caressing the cusp of his manhood while purposely pinching his thigh to rile Gavin up. Gavin’s fist clenched tightly, fighting the urge to slam MC back down onto the bench of the sleigh and take her without giving a damn that as an officer of the law he would be engaging in a matter of public indecency.

His arousal twitched in a delightful throbbing pleasure, compelling Gavin to arch along the tender curve of MC’s thigh. Turned on by his actions, MC snuck a peak to over at the driver to make sure he was preoccupied by the guiding the sleigh, then prudently climbed onto his lap. Grinding her hips down to ride Gavin’s thigh, she fought back the impulse to moan when the friction grazing her clit drowned her senses in waves of ecstasy. One of her hands clung to the collar of Gavin’s shirt, while the other continued jerking him harder and harder until-

“Alright you crazy kids, we’re nearly approaching our final destination of the evening,” the driver unknowingly boomed, his eyes still focused on the path before them.

Startled and exchanging panicked glances at the risk of practically being discovered, they silently shuffled to fix their disheveled clothing and returned to their proper seats. The sleigh carried on for a few moments longer and eventually came to a slow halt. Their magical ride ended with an uncomfortable Gavin shoving a wad of cash into the driver’s palm as a tip and whipping the blanket off to toss it aside. Gavin jumped down out of the carriage and held his arms outstretched to catch MC. Hastily rising to her feet, MC leapt into Gavin’s arms, barely affording the time for Gavin to pivot out of sight from the driver to nibble on the lobe of her ear.

“Hope you’re ready for payback,” Gavin muttered, his nimble fingers tracing around the side of her body to work at the buttons of her blouse and move across MC’s bare skin. “Your Christmas present is ‘coming’ to you early this year, if you catch my drift.”

Treading into MC’s apartment building through the misting snow, Gavin stole a kiss from the woman he loved, persisting in his quest to languidly undress her in the elevator as he impatiently awaited to reach the floor her apartment was on. His objective was to streamline undressing her; for when they reached her apartment Gavin was going to savor the early start on unwrapping his present. After all, he had been a very good boy this year. 😉

[hongism]

helping hand - jisung x reader x seungmin

➻ pairing: seungmin x reader x jisung ➻ wc: 3.3k ➻ genre: pwp, smut ➻ rating: M, 18+ ➻ warnings: explicit smut, dom/sub themes, soft dom!seungmin, soft dom!jisung, sub!reader, threesome: mmf, blindfolds, double penetration, spit-roating, oral sex: f and m, fingering, anal fingering, toys, vibrators, spit play, praise, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating/swallowing, anal ➻ summary: in which seungmin walks in at the most inopportune moment

Jisung’s fingers pump in and out of you, drawing a high-pitched whine from your lips. You can’t see anything beyond the silk over your eyes, but not being able to see is causing every other sense to heighten. Each touch feels like fire lighting on your skin, every ghosting breath makes your hairs stand on end, and the soft kisses Jisung presses against your inner thighs send bolts of pleasure rushing through you. He hasn’t removed the small bullet vibrator from your ass, and it’s been running for at least thirty minutes by now.

Still, Jisung denies your orgasm. He stretches his fingers in your dripping cunt, a small sigh of satisfaction falling from his lips as you clench around his digits. At this rate, you will barely be able to hold yourself up any longer, ass perched high for Jisung to access and face pressed to the pillow. You want to reach around the back of your head and tug the silk blindfold away just so that you can see Jisung. You don’t, however, because as much as you want to push Jisung a little, you love it best when he holds you gently and treats you like a princess.

You ball your fists around the sheets under you as Jisung’s fingers curl and drag against your g-spot. A prolonged moan leaves you, and the sound causes Jisung to release a throaty chuckle.

“Calm down, baby girl. You’ll tell the whole dorm what we’re doing if you aren’t careful.” Your walls tighten around his fingers. Jisung hesitates, his shallow thrusts halting for the time being. “Oh, but I forgot that’s what my little princess loves. The thought of someone watching her cum, the idea of someone walking in and catching us in the act. Asking me if they can use her pretty little holes. If she can be their slut for a night. Is that it, princess?”

You sink your teeth into your lower lip, biting back the whine that threatens to escape, because whining would only confirm what Jisung said. All hopes of holding back go out the window when Jisung leans close and whispers with hot breath against the shell of your ear.

“Good thing I left the door unlocked then, huh?”

You cum with a start, hips jerking as the orgasm hits you out of the blue, and Jisung laughs to himself as you shake around his fingers. The laugh quickly morphs into small coos and gentle praises as he massages your thighs through the orgasm. You are still recovering from your high when Jisung flips you onto your back. All you can feel is the way the mattress dips and you assume that means that he’s crawling up on the bed with you. Sure enough, deft fingers reach around your head and let the blindfold fall away from your face. You blink against the sudden shift of lighting.

“How was that, baby girl? Up for another round?” Jisung inquires, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“Only if you fuck me properly this time,” you say with a small smile.

“You know I always do, princess.”

“Hey, Jis — oh shit!” Whoever just came through the door did a whole 180 and more, body disappearing before you even get a good look at who just popped in. You and Jisung exchange baffled glances. “Sorry! I, uh, I-I didn’t know you were – um, preoccupied.”

Seungmin. Great. The look on Jisung’s face tells you all you need to know. Of course of all people, it had to be Seungmin. Seungmin who you’ve been eyeing not so subtly for the past few weeks, and Seungmin who always becomes a frequent subject when Jisung is fucking you.

“I bet you wish Seungmin would walk in right now.”

“Do you think Seungmin would want to share?”

“Why don’t you try screaming out Seungmin’s name this time?”

The list of examples could go on for days, but now you’re too busy shaking your head as Jisung’s smirk grows wider.

“No, it’s okay! What did you need, Seungmin?”

“I-I, uh, I just wanted to… uh, I wanted to chat for a bit. But it’s okay! I can wait!” Jisung’s eyes never leave yours as Seungmin speaks. It’s almost as though he’s waiting for permission of sorts, but you know that he has already made up his mind. He wouldn’t have spoken to Seungmin otherwise.

“No, come in. We’re not too busy.”

“Ji–”

“Come in, Seungmin.” Jisung’s tone holds more force and command than you’re used to hearing from him. In all honesty, the confidence he exudes turns you on beyond belief.

Seungmin’s head appears in the door again. He barely peeks in, eyes landing on your body for only a few seconds before he brings them up to Jisung. Said man waves the younger one in with a quick motion of his hand. Seungmin follows the order with haste and rushes into the room. He locks the door behind him, which is a bit of a disappointment because the excitement of being caught with Seungmin and Jisung is almost too much to think about.

“Ha, uh, need help with that?” Seungmin jokes, motioning to where you lie on the bed. Now that he’s inside the room, his eyes refuse to stop raking over your naked body. It’s a bit embarrassing to watch him fuck you with his eyes, but you’re already doing the same despite him being fully dressed.

“Absolutely, Seungmin, because you see, there’s something you don’t know about my dear little angel.” Jisung drags a finger up the expanse of your shin. You part your legs immediately as it reaches the inside of your knee. Seungmin’s eyes snap towards your core and the little bullet vibrator that’s barely visible at this angle. You can see the visible bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows roughly. “She has… what you would call a fantasy.”

“A fantasy?” Seungmin echoes, unable to pull his eyes off your body.

“Yes, yes. A fantasy that involves me, herself, and you.”

“A-And who?” Seungmin’s eyes bulge and he finally looks over to Jisung. The stare doesn’t linger long, because Seungmin drags his gaze over to meet your eyes next in search of confirmation. You nod ever so slightly, embarrassed to give in so easily but Jisung’s touch is too damn distracting. “Oh, so she’s like that then?”

There is a sudden shift to his tone. The shy boy who just darted into the room dissipates in an instant, leaving a man with sudden confidence. You don’t recognize him but it doesn’t stop a surge of arousal from going straight to your core. You slam your legs shut, clenching hard around Jisung’s hand, and Jisung laughs at your actions.

“That she is. A bit shy at first, though. I just worked her open so I could fuck her, but… but maybe you can fuck her pretty little mouth first. I know she’s thought of that before. Haven’t you, angel?”

You don’t answer Jisung’s question right away, and that’s your first mistake. Jisung reaches around you and lifts that cursed black silk. He places it over your eyes before you can say anything, fastening it tight behind your head.

“Since she doesn’t want to speak, she must want a cock in her mouth already. But it’s more fun to play a little, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” Seungmin’s smooth voice rings through, so sultry and low that it nearly sounds like a purr. The mattress dips again but you recognize the weight as Jisung’s. He slides past you, flipping you back onto your hands and knees, and you pad forward with uncertainty as you try to find the edge of the bed. A breath of silence ensues. Then a jingle, pop of a button, zipper, and cloth hitting the floor. It must have been Seungmin’s pants.

Your suspicions are confirmed when fingers grip your chin all of a sudden. You drop your jaw immediately, already knowing what’s to come. Seungmin pushes the head of his member between your waiting lips. You nearly groan just at the sensation of having him in your mouth. It’s been a long-awaited fantasy for quite some time, even if it is embarrassing to admit. You drag your tongue over the underside of Seungmin’s cock. He tastes far different than Jisung – slightly sweeter and less musty – and there are more veins along his shaft. You can already tell that he’s not as thick or long as Jisung though, which would have been a knock to the man’s pride if that had not been the case. You swirl your tongue up to his tip, dragging over his slit and collecting the salty precum gathered there.

Behind you, Jisung settles into position. His cock prods at your slit and teases your hole. He doesn’t push in quite yet though; instead, he tugs the vibrator out of your ass in favor of stuffing you with a buttplug. You know exactly which one he picked up and put in you. The largest one in your collection with the bejeweled heart at the end. Him selecting that one tells you that he has further plans for Seungmin later on in the night. You swallow around Seungmin’s member at the thought of it. That is another fantasy you shared with Jisung. The idea of being stuffed full in both holes at the same time is tantalizing, and it seems that you might have that fantasy fulfilled tonight.

Seungmin groans above you, and you hum at the sound. Jisung thrusts into your tight heat all of a sudden. The thrust sends you deeper on Seungmin’s cock, and you gag a little as he hits the back of your throat with force. You don’t have time to brace yourself for the next thrusts because Jisung picks up a brutal rhythm that has you bobbing along Seungmin’s length without doing any work yourself. Seungmin wraps a hand around your hair, tangling in the locks so he can steady you when he begins to fuck into your mouth with shallow thrusts. You whine at the sensation. Each tug of your hair leaves tingles running over your body, your scalp itches as he pulls, and your cunt tightens around Jisung’s member. Seungmin staggers his thrusts, making sure to thrust into you when Jisung pulls out. It allows you to have zero relief, constantly being used and fucked into without relief, and it only causes your arousal to grow.

Behind the blindfold, your eyes are watery from the brutal thrusts hitting the back of your throat. You can’t get enough oxygen either and that leaves you with a hazy feeling. However, that hazy sensation makes each thrust feel better than the last. You cry out around Seungmin’s member as Jisung’s hand comes down on your bare ass. The sting of the spank sears across your skin in the best way. Seungmin pulls out of your mouth to let you catch your breath, slapping the tip of his cock against your swollen lips as you heave deep breaths.

“Cum in her mouth, Seungmin,” Jisung growls out. He slaps your ass again, this time just under the curve of your cheek, and you release a pathetic whimper. “She’s been dying to taste you.”

“P-Please, sir. I need – ah, I need your cum,” you beg with wide eyes.

Seungmin doesn’t need to be told twice. He pushes back into your wet mouth. The salty taste of his precum hits your tongue again, and you moan around him as he begins to thrust wildly. He has lost his rhythm and no longer staggers the thrusts, proving how close to an orgasm he is. You slack you jaw a little and let him have his way with your mouth. All of a sudden his thrusts falter, and hot cum spills down your throat. You cough as he pulls out, a few bits of stray semen catching on your lip. Seungmin cradles your chin as you cough, and there is concern in his eyes. You shake your head, heaving a gasp as you recover, and bring a hand up to collect the excess cum from your lips. A small giggle escapes you as feel the heat of Seungmin’s stare, and you push the cum onto your tongue.

As soon as you swallow, Seungmin brings his face down to yours and catches your lips with his own. You sigh into the kiss. He’s gentle and treats you like glass, the slightest brush of lips that leaves you wanting more. It’s hard to keep your lips connected with Jisung’s erratic thrusts, but Seungmin is persistent if nothing else.

Jisung suddenly shifts your position, pushing further under you and letting you sit back on your heels as he fucks into you. The mattress dips as Seungmin climbs onto it. He settles in front of you, lips never leaving yours.

“Can I take the blindfold off?” The words are obviously not directed at you, but the feeling of Seungmin’s hot breath over your wet lips leaves you shivering. Jisung must nod in response because the bright lights suddenly hit you. The silk falls away, and all you see is Seungmin’s coy smirk for a few moments. As your eyes adjust, his face comes into clear view. There’s a pretty flush to his cheeks, but you don’t get to look at it for long because Seungmin dips back in and kisses you. His tongue presses into your mouth this time, and you welcome him with yours. It’s hard to stay still with Jisung’s new angle; you feel as though you’re bouncing up against Seungmin’s lips. He manages to steady you enough to kiss you properly though.

As his tongue brushes over yours, you reach down between his legs and catch his softened member in your hand. His cock twitches at your touch. You grin against the kiss and stroke his length. It’s still slick with your saliva, making it easier to jerk him over. You thumb over the tip and drag a finger across his slit, bringing a groan out of him. The vibrations of his sound hit your tongue, and you shiver. You bring Seungmin back up to full hardness in no time. Jisung’s thrusts are starting to slow a little, which tells you that he’s close so you squeeze your walls around him to spur him on. The action works like a charm, and he releases a shaky moan as he cums into your heat.

There’s no time to think because Jisung is already tugging the plug out of your ass. He brings you against his chest, and you have to detach from Seungmin as Jisung positions you on top of his body. His cock is still soft as he presses against your puckered hole, but that doesn’t stop him from pushing into you. Your brows come together as he buries himself in your ass. The two of you don’t do this often – you can typically handle the plug but Jisung’s dick is much larger than a plug. He goes slowly though, stopping every time you squeeze around him, and waits until your muscles relax to finish burying himself in you.

His cum is dripping out of your other hole, and Seungmin’s attention is rapt on that. Jisung notices right away, a small laugh leaving his mouth as he sees how Seungmin watches you.

“You can fuck it back into her. She loves being stuffed full of cock.” The words are filthy, and you whine as you hear them.

“S-She really is perfect,” Seungmin mutters as he edges closer to your cunt. Jisung laughs into your ear then kisses your hairline gently. His next words are full of love and affection, and you can feel his gaze on you as he says them.

“Truly the best.”

You smile a little to yourself as you hear the praise then shift your hips to encourage Seungmin to come closer. He does, stroking his length a few times before lining up with your folds. Jisung’s cock fills you up so nicely already, and the sting is dissipating into pleasure. You know he won’t move until you’re absolutely ready. He continues to stay still as Seungmin pushes into you. The stretch is unimaginable. It burns and stings at first; the sensation of being split open as Seungmin buries his cock in your hole. His thrust is helped a bit by the excess cum in you that Jisung left. You’ve never felt so full in your life.

Jisung kisses along the shell of your ear as Seungmin moves, sensing your discomfort, and he whispers soft praises to you. It helps you relax, and eventually, you ease into the feeling. Your back loses some of its tension, and you slump against Jisung’s chest. Neither man moves until you tell them too though, both pairs of eyes dragging over your features with intensity.

“Pl… Please fu-fuck me,” you whisper. Jisung’s arm tightens around your chest.

Seungmin moves first, starting with two shallow thrusts that are meant to test your comfort. The drag of his member in you is the best pleasure you’ve ever felt – at least it is until Jisung starts moving. You’ve never felt anything like it. Two cocks fucking into you at the same time in different holes; you never would’ve imagined it could feel so fucking good.

Moans tumble from your lips as the two stagger their thrusts. One pulls out, the other thrusts in. Seungmin pounds against your cervix, cock dragging over your sweet spot, and Jisung’s cock is hard again in your ass. You can’t form any coherent thoughts or words. You babble curses and gasps as they fuck you. Your body is limp against Jisung’s chest, but he does all the work for you and holds you up at the same time. You cum sooner than expected; it only takes a handful of thrusts from both men for an orgasm to wash over you. They fuck you through it. Seungmin growls as he watches your eyes roll back, his thrusts growing sharper and harder. The pleasure of your orgasm along with two cocks in you is something you’ll be thinking about for the rest of your life.

Seungmin is the next to cum, and he fills you up just like Jisung did. His cum mixes with Jisung’s in you. Heat blossoms in your abdomen as he orgasms, and you squeeze your walls around his softening member to keep him in place. Jisung chases his orgasm wildly, hands moving to your hips to lift you higher as he fucks up into your ass. You whine from the sensation; your whole body is on fire and weak from the orgasms and overstimulation. It doesn’t stop Jisung for a second though. A few thrusts later, he’s cumming again. Hot seed spills into your ass, and Jisung slams his hips against yours a couple more times for good measure. His grip on your hips disappears. You slump back against him, spent and happy. Seungmin lingers over you, hands on either side of Jisung’s body on the mattress.

No one moves for what feels like hours. Your eyes flutter shut as the exhaustion hits you hard.

“That was…” Seungmin trails off, words failing him, and instead a low whistle comes out.

“Hot as fuck, yeah.” Jisung laughs against your hair. His hands wander up to find yours, intertwining your fingers as he smiles up at Seungmin. “We’re doing that again.”

“Not now please,” you sigh, barely able to open your eyes.

“No, no, angel. Not now, don’t worry. We’ll get you cleaned up and taken care of now.”

​​​☽     ☾

➻ requested by: anonymous ➻ prompts:

“Need help with that?”

big major rip to the quality of my banner ;-; it was so pretty and now ;-; god ;-; it’s awful ;-; im crying ;-;

[bookishofalder]

Pretty Girl - Two

Summary: In which Flip struggles with his feelings for the reader, and his emotions hit the breaking point when she is threatened. 

Warnings: Swearing, suggestion of slur (not written), masturbation, violence, angry Flip, sexism. WC- 3,030

A/N- I rewrote this chapter a few times to get it just right, I really wanted to convey the struggle Flip is having. Feedback is appreciated! 

It was late October, the chill in the air crisp as the apple cider (Y/N) had brewed and brought in to the station, using a hot plate to keep it warm. It filled the whole building with the scent, which was a pleasant upgrade from the usual mix of cigarette smoke and body odour and leather. She had even commissioned the local elementary school to draw autumn-themed pictures for decoration. As a way to boost morale and community engagement, she proudly displayed them in the lobby for everyone to admire when they came to and from the station.

Flip had teased her when he found her one morning, standing on a chair to tape the photos up. Now slightly taller than him, she turned with care and playfully glared down at him.

“One more word, detective, and I’ll be assigning you to take over the job,” she threatened, then added, “I should have done that in the first place, actually. You don’t even need the chair.”  

He laughed loudly, “Apologies, I know it’s not your fault you’re so-“

“Seriously, don’t finish that sentence, Flip!” She giggled, her hand reaching out and ruffling his hair. Before Flip could react fully to the sensation of it, she was shooing him away and chastising him for distracting her. She grinned as he retreated, his hands in the air in surrender.

However, he had spent the rest of that day replaying the feel of her hand on his head.

Although neither of them had discussed it, it had become a routine for Flip to give (Y/N) rides to and from work regularly. They both enjoyed each other's company, their friendship solidifying, and it wasn’t like he had to go out of his way. To thank him, (Y/N) insisted on bringing him breakfast. Fried egg sandwiches and a hot dark roast coffee were handed to him every morning. Along with her endearing ability to make him smile, Flip was more than satisfied with the arrangement.  

If their colleagues at the CSPD noticed the closeness developing between Flip and (Y/N), none remarked on it initially to either of them. Secretly, many of the detectives who knew Flip were beyond grateful for the friendship, as it brought out a side of him that they would all agree, if asked, was more tolerable and likeable to his usual angry demeanour.

It wasn’t until a young rookie officer had spotted them arrive one morning a few weeks after Flip had started driving in with (Y/N), that the rest of the station came to learn the relationship was more important to him than he let on. His rare show of emotions the indication that alerted them.    

The rookie had met up with Flip in the bullpen, loudly inquiring as to whether he was banging the hot new secretary, a cocky grin on his face, expecting perhaps a joking reply, or scandalous gossip.

For most of the detectives in the room that knew Flip, a collective intake of their breath and exchange of weary glances took place. They had watched apprehensively as he had turned to Caruthers, a glare that defined to term, ‘if looks could kill’ marring his handsome features. Flip then knocked the coffee out of Caruthers's hands and jabbed him in the chest as he had shouted. The rookie had nearly pissed himself, apologizing profusely before running off. Flip had then glared around the room, daring anyone else to suggest such a thing, but no one was stupid enough, and those who Flip worked closely with were better men than the likes of Caruthers.

As Flip had taken his seat, his blood boiling at the inappropriate question, he considered the reason for his over the top reaction. (Y/N) had brought a lot of happiness into his life, filling a void he hadn’t taken the time to recognize had grown over the last few years. Loneliness, the acceptance of retaining his bachelor status permanently. And the realization, when she would casually touch him, that he was touch starved. He was already comfortable with, and protective of, their friendship. The last thing he wanted at that moment was for her to overhear Caruthers suggestion, should it cause a rift between them.  

And, if he was honest with himself, he recognized that his feelings for her were...complicated. If he were to see a reaction in her at the suggestion they were sleeping together, he was not sure what that could do to them. The idea that Flip could lose (Y/N) terrified him.

So he actively worked to push his feelings down, preferring the safety of friendship. The safety of routine and the expected.

+

Today, Flip and Jimmy returned from a successful arrest on a perp they’d been following for weeks. They had managed to nail him while he was completing a small drug shipment from his mother’s garage. The whole arrest took them only just over an hour, and it was clean-the suspect, upon seeing the two detectives, surrendered.

When they arrived back at the station, Flip lingered outside to finish his smoke, feeling pretty satisfied with how the arrest went down and looking forward to sharing the success with (Y/N). He never told her anything classified, however in her position she was privy to a lot of sensitive information. She knew the details of most of the cases the detectives worked on.

He found it effortless to share the good days straight away, enjoying the way her features lit up at his words. Regardless of what she was working on, she would give him her full attention. The bad days she coaxed out of Flip with care during the drive to her home, always ready to comfort him or offer words of encouragement.

“Did you have a rough day, detective?” She had asked him one afternoon as they walked to his truck. He had been silent when approaching her at the end of the day, giving her a brief nod as she joined his pace and they hurried out of the station.

Flip had glanced down at her, unable to keep the frown off of his face. She merely tilted her head, her eyes soft as she waited patiently for him to speak, to say whatever he needed to. He had taken a deep breath before relenting.

“Just, usual bullshit from the Chief, about a case I worked just before you joined us.” He wasn’t able to elaborate, the entire case classified. Even files had been destroyed to keep it under wraps. Which was part of the reason he was so annoyed-he felt they could have accomplished more if they’d remained undercover longer. The Chief wholly disagreed.

Part of Flip had wondered if she would tease him, or tell him off for whining; a reaction that would have been entirely unsurprising from any of his fellow detectives. “Flip, do me a favour, tough man?” She had asked instead, leaning slightly against the side of his truck and gazing up at him.

“What’s that, darling?”

(Y/N) smiled, “When you walk through those doors at the end of the day,” She gestured at the main entrance, “You leave all the bullshit behind, don’t take it home with you anymore.”

He returned her smile, shrugging, “What if it’s too much to leave behind?” He hadn’t meant for the words to come out so quietly. (Y/N) stepped closer to him, their bodies inches apart, and Flip found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her (y/e/c) eyes.

“Then let me help you carry it, at least.” She had replied, voice equally as soft.

After a pause, she had patted his arm gently before moving to climb into the truck.  

“Flip,” He glanced up, pulled from his thoughts, to see Jimmy standing at the main station doors. His expression was unusually annoyed. Flip tossed his smoke, stomping it out.

“What is it?”

Jimmy shook his head, “You ain’t gonna like this.” And he pulled open the door. The sounds of a man shouting were the first thing to reach Flip’s ears, and he followed Jimmy inside, curious.

The shouting man had his finger angrily pointed at (Y/N), who was standing behind the counter. His yells echoed off the walls, a jarring contrast to the warmth and professionalism the station usually exuded. (Y/N) was positioned somewhat defensively in front of Donna-who Flip only noticed as he was approaching-her jaw set and mouth in a thin line. His eyes assessed her quickly, taking in her crossed arms and narrowed eyes, while he moved toward the scene with fast steps.

“I don’t give a god damn that he’s a police detective, I’m telling you no-” As the man uttered a slur, Flip’s frown morphed into a glare. He made his way down the hall unnoticed by everyone, all attention on the man. He hated when men cursed and uttered slurs in front of ladies. He especially hated that it was being directed at (Y/N). “-is going to be arresting my son, no sir, now you get that damn-“

“Sir, I’m not going to tell you again, your son was arrested, lawfully by a respected Detective of this station. Now lower your voice and I would be happy to take you to see your son and meet the detective.” Flip had never seen her angry-or even annoyed-but at that moment her eyes were narrowed, lips twisted in distaste as if the irritation tasted sour on her tongue. He did not like seeing (Y/N) upset, nor treated so poorly.

Her reasonable words served to merely enrage the large man further, his face reddening as he stepped closer to the counter. Flip, still unnoticed, moved to step in and lead the man away, his intention simply to diffuse the situation. However, there was a pressure building in his chest; the next few moments seemed to slow down in his red hazed vision, his willpower strong enough to remain professional, his hand reaching out to touch the man's shoulder-

Only the fucker pointed, his dirty hand inches from (Y/N)’s face, and rudely snarled, “Shut up bitch, and get me a white detective to talk to before I-“

The pressure hit a breaking point.

Flip instead seized that hand and twisted it behind the asshole’s back. A growl ripped from his chest as he used his free hand to grab the back of the man's neck and force him down, bending him over the counter. A wave of gratification swept through Flip when the man grunted in pain and surprise, his face pressed to the countertop.

“You were looking for a white Detective, I hear?” He snarled, his grip too tight for the man to struggle against. Flip was much too angry, a fact that his rational mind was concerning over-he had been fine moments before. Movement out of the corner of his eye had Flip glancing up, his eyes meeting (Y/N)’s over the desk. “You alright, darling?” His voice considerably softer as he surveyed her, concerned.

She nodded, her eyes holding his gaze steadily. “Just fine, Detective.” (Y/N) quickly assured him. Flip thought he saw something pass through her gaze, but before he could read it, it was gone. Something about that look had the thundering rage inside of him fading, which was for the best. He loosened his grip, slightly, resisting the urge to cause further harm.

Adrenaline coursed through Flip’s body, eyes never breaking away from hers. She seemed to draw him in, the look alone calming him further.

“Alright, sir, you’re coming with me, we’re going to have a little chat on how we conduct ourselves around ladies.” Jimmy stepped up, smirking, and cuffed the man. Flip looked away from (Y/N), and watched his partner and a uniformed officer lead the man away.

Flip momentarily considered following, but thought better of it. He drew a steadying breath of air, his anger dissolving as quickly as it had come on.

“Oh Donna, are you okay?”

Flip turned at the sound of (Y/N)‘s voice. Donna was visibly upset, her gentle nature affected. (Y/N), it seemed, was much less shaken. She wrapped her arms around Donna and gave her a comforting hug.

“I’m being silly, really,” Donna gulped, wiping at her eyes, “I’ve seen it all, at my age, you know. I just really worried he was going to hop the counter!”

(Y/N) patted her back, “I did too, but we’re alright, thanks to Detective Zimmerman. Why don’t you head home early?”

Flip agreed, ignoring the swell of pride at her words, “You don’t need to be worrying about us, Donna, you go ahead home and tell Carl I defended your honour on his behalf.” Flip joked, causing his matronly friend to give a shaky laugh and wipe away her tears. (Y/N) gave him a grateful look.

Flip stuck around while Donna gathered her things and bid them farewell, never taking his eyes off of (Y/N). She had walked over to the benches that lined the wall, taking a seat and letting her head fall back against the brick. Waving happily as Donna walked out, her smile dropped when she was out of sight.

She heaved a big sigh, watching as Flip joined her. His arm pressed against hers, neither of them adjusting their positions to move away. He said nothing, knowing she would speak when she was ready. They sat in silence for a few minutes, staring across at the silly pictures the kids had drawn.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that, Flip,” (Y/N) finally said, shaking her head sadly. Flip stared down at her a moment, raising his brow.

“There is nothing for you to be apologizing for, darling.”

“I-I know, I suppose I just...” She trailed off, glancing away. When she didn’t look like she would finish her thought, he decided to joke and change the subject, though he filed her reaction away in the part of his mind he reserved for her failings at caring for herself. It ultimately served to provide him with excuses to care for her in his own ways, as a friend would.

A friend, only.

“You want me to go in there and rough him up a bit?” Flip wished he was fully kidding, but part of him would have been happy to go and knock the asshole around if she’d asked him to.

Instead, she laughed at his words, an arguably much better result. He smiled at the melody of her voice “Flip, thanks for shutting him up.” She glanced up at him from beneath her lashes, an almost coy expression appearing.  

Giving no real thought behind the action, simply following his instincts, Flip reached out and gently tucked some loose strands of (y/h/c) hair behind her ear. His hand lingered there a moment, before dropping abruptly, “Of course.” His voice came out in a rumble, “No one will ever speak to you like that around me, darling.”

She had watched him with her wide, beautiful eyes as he’d spoken, barely moving when he’d touched her hair. She was regarding him now with affection; he could see it clearly.

“My best friend, the protector.” She teased, breaking the frisson that had built between them, much to his relief.

Flip smirked down at her, though his heart was beating tirelessly in his chest and his mind was reeling. She patted his leg before standing, thanking him again. He watched her walk back to the reception desk, his expression unreadable. While he was fairly sure he could return to his desk, Flip decided to go outside for another smoke. chastising himself for the direction his thoughts had moved; from the intensity of his anger to the guilt of imagining filthy scenarios with his best friend.

When she had teased him, it was the first time the term had been used. And he found himself torn, feeling both touched at the sentiment, yet disappointed at its platonic connotation.

Flip returned home that evening in an overwhelmed state of mind, after a quiet car ride with (Y/N). She had thanked him again before hurrying inside her home. He wanted to stop her, to ask about the look on her face earlier.

He wanted to ask her why the first word that came to mind to describe it was hungry.  

Bristling, he sought release immediately, not bothering to undress beyond kicking off his boats and lowering his jeans to his thighs. He stood in his bedroom panting, one hand on his dresser to keep him steady, as he fisted his already hard length. He was desperate, sensitive from weeks of pent up sexual frustration he had pointedly ignored.

A guttural moan ripped from his chest as Flip finally allowed the thoughts of (Y/N) to the forefront of his mind; thoughts of her glowing skin, soft to his touch, her body quivering as he explored head to toe, kissing every inch. His hand moved quickly, the tension building within him swiftly. It only took a few more pumps as he imagined his name on her lips in ecstasy, pleading for him not to stop...

With a cry, he came-the wave of pleasure pulsing through his body as his cum spurted, coating his hand and dripping to the floor. "Fuck!" His head tilted back.

His legs trembled, perspiration coating his skin; he crashed from his high and quickly sat on the edge of his bed, gasping for air. After only a few moments of relief, the guilt seeped back into the front of Flip’s mind.

He sighed, “Flip, you’re a piece of garbage.” He muttered to himself, eyes closing in disgust. He fell back, now laying on his bed, chewing his lip as he considered everything that had happened. His mind was now much clearer.

And there was simply no denying, the expression on (Y/N)'s face had not been of fear or concern. It had been of arousal. Flip wasn't sure of how he would react if he ever saw that look cross her face again, and so he fretted at the best way to move forward.

Would telling her how he felt, and risking their friendship, be the right move? Or was Flip too selfish, too cowardly, to admit his feelings?

Flip didn't sleep a wink.

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Tag list ✨ @tashastrange89 @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @iamnotthecatladynextdoor

[lovelinehotline]

                           𝔹𝕝𝕦𝕖

                          𝑆𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑢𝑠 𝐵𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

                                  description:

   Unforgivable heartbreaker. Undeniable player. Absolute ass. Sirius Black was anything but an angel, and, with the help of his friends, his reputation emphasized that. His heart has been set on staying locked in the deep depths of his chest, choosing to lay with any and all girls to keep his fear of being abandoned and heartbroken by that of who he loves, a fear developed after he was left discarded on the side by his parent when  they decided he wasn't good enough to bare their last name anymore. The thrill of one night stands and moments of pleasure with strangers, which helped ease his mind for hours at a time was the only thing keeping him sane through all his endeavors. With one final drunken affair, he unintentionally opened his heart up to one girl bearing the blue and bronze colors of her house.

                                    -

 It was 9:45am when Sirius awoke from from his drunk based slumber, head ponding softly. His face kept a completely neutral expression but he was in absolute pain on the inside. 

  His gaze fell on the empty space beside him, slightly smirking to himself as he watched the  imprint of a feminine body slowly disintegrate. He wondered which house he got lucky with the night before. Maybe a Slytherin? They were always feisty to have in bed. Or a Hufflepuff? It’s true when they say the quiet ones were the nastiest when it came to their sexual endeavors, he would know. A Gryffindor? Always a pleasure to sleep with someone in the same house. Maybe a Ravenclaw? They were way more experienced in bed than they led on. Whichever it may be, he was sure he had one hell of a night.

  He sat up from his sunken place on the bed, his eyes doing a once over to the other boys, who were already shifting around their beds trying to get a couple of extra minutes of sleep. He wondered what the night had lead to after he downed one two many shots of whatever substance the other boys had brought in. Last memory he could recall was a pretty [hair color] Ravenclaw  chatting him up as they both waited their turn to grab another round of drinks. He remembers how she stuck to him most of the night, dancing around him, laughing at his obscene jokes, and just overall keeping him company as they drank down cup after cup of any alcoholic drink they could get their hands on. He remembers her soft [skin color] skin glistening in the candle lit room and her gentle laugh as they bantered with each other. He wondered if she was the one who's imprint was fading away, leaving nothing but a sweet memory he was trying to recollect.

 He gave a small stretch before getting out of bed, giving his stomach a little rub.

 “Good morning boys, I assume everyone had a good night.” Sirius spoke into the quiet room, the smirk that graced his lips never once leaving its place.

 The others sat up from their places, glancing at each other briefly before looking over at Sirius.

 “Sirius, are you,” Remus paused before slowly exhaling,”okay?”

 “Yeah, why wouldn't I be? I scored with another lady didn't I?” He let out a little laugh.  The rest of the boys stayed quiet as they gave each other another glance.

 “Are you guys okay? You’re acting strange this morning.” The black haired boy gave a little frown.

 Remus had a pleading look on his face as he stared into James’ eyes. James, on the other hand, had a stern look on his face. Both their expressions told a story that made Sirius think that maybe he didn't want to know what they were saying in their silent exchange.

 “Pads.” James started his voice barely above a whisper.

 “What?” Sirius was starting to grow impatient. Why were they suddenly acting in such a manor? As if they didn't just throw the party of the century last night.

 “When we came into the room,” James averted his gaze towards his hands for a second before maintaining eye contact with his best friend.”You were curled up against that one Ravenclaw girl, what’s her name?” 

“[Name.]” Remus quickly spoke.

 “Yeah, her, um I mean you were more in a fetal position if I’m being honest.”

 Sirius narrowed his eyes in confusion, his gaze never leaving James.

 “And you were,” Remus gave another pause before cautiously continuing his sentence,” sobbing and she was cradling you as you were clinging onto her sweater.”

 There was a moment of silence, one that was deafening for everyone in the dorm.

 “This is a joke right? None of you can be serious right now. Prongs, please tell me you guys are pranking me.”

 James’ eyes became somber as he ran his hands through his hair.

 “You, uh. You wouldn't let her leave. When she thought you were asleep, she got up, or more like she tried to at least,” James gave a low breathless laugh,”you would grip her harder and you would start to sob again until she laid back down.’

 “And you wouldn’t stop sobbing until she ran her finger through your hair. She was barley able to leave thirty-two minutes ago. She wanted to make sure you were calm before she headed out.” Remus continued.

 Sirius sat there, barley able to register the inform that was placed in front of him.

 “Do any of you know why I was crying?” 

 “No, we were trying to figure it out but [name] kept dodging the question. She just said that it was on a personal level and left it at that.” James spoke once more.  “Great, just what I needed, getting all close and personal with a girl I barely know.” Sirius had a deep look on his face trying to distinguish his memories from the past 12 hours. How did he get so emotional with someone in just a matter of hours of knowing them.

 “Maybe,”Remus spoke up breaking Sirius from his thought process,” this is a sign that you should stop sleeping around and start confronting what’s bothering you head on. Face your fears head on.”

 Sirius shook his head, letting out a little snort.”I have no idea what you’re taking about, moony.”

 “Yes you do,” Remus shook his head,” If you want, I can ask [name] to meet up with you so you can find out what you talked about. I have her in potions, I’m sure she’ll agree to it.”

 Sirius felt his face pale.

 He couldn’t be serious. Meet up with the girl who he was so clingy with and let himself show all signs of weakness  near? Remus was crazy to think he would agree to such a thing.

 “No.”Sirius said in a firm voice.

 “Come on it can't be that ba-”

 “I said no. I’ll figure it out myself.” Sirius stated, cutting off James.

 “Fine.” Huffed the boy with glasses

 During the course of his day, Sirius couldn't help but wonder about the female who would occupy his mind in the notion of small flashes. It annoyed him that he didn't remember much. 

 What could he have told her?

It was eating him up alive.

 At some point he wondered if he should take Remus up on his offer, but then decided against it when he realized he wouldn't be able to look her in the eyes, especially if he had shared too much into his past.

 He was sitting in the common room with James and Remus when he saw her, their eyes meeting across the room. In that moment he remembered all the emotions he felt the night before. He didn't understand the new wave of feelings that had overcome him, but it scared him beyond belief.

 She let out a small smile in his direction, making her way towards him.

 “shit.” Sirius quickly pushed passed everyone in his way and rushed out the room, speeding down the hall to his dorm, leaving [name] standing in the middle of the common room, confused over his reaction.

 “What just happened.” Her gaze moved over to James, who was bitting back his laughter, and Remus, who gave her a gentle smile with a gaze to match.

 “Don’t worry about him, he's been out of it all day.”

 “It’s not because of last night, is it? I promise I didn't say a word,” She frowned,”or was it something I did? Is he upset I left this morning?” She bit her lip as she continued.

 “[name], I can promise you that whatever is going on in that head of his, it’s not your fault.” Remus assured her.

 “At least not until he woke up this morning and realized that instead of being inside you,  you were inside his head.” James smirked.

Remus slammed his hand against the back of James head, a loud sound echoing through the common room.

 “ Ow! What the hell was that for?!”James raised his voice, rubbing the numbing pain that was stinging the back of his head.

 “It’s for not being of any help.” Remus glared before turning back around to face [name] who adorned a guilt ridden face.

 “I-I didn’t mean to, we were kissing and then he stopped, I thought he was going to puke so I tried grabbing for something, anything, that he could use to throw up in but he ended up wrapping his arms around my waist and crying into my back. I didn't know what to do so I just laid there trying to comfort him as best as I could and that’s when he started taking about his life. I didn't mean any harm.”

 “I think he's just embarrassed.” Remus said.

 “Embarrassed? Embarrassed about what?” She frowned once more.

 “Letting himself become vulnerable with a girl he barely knows.” James said back.

 She stayed quiet, slowly nodding her head. She wasn't sure what she should do next. Should she Just walk back to her dorm and pretend none of this happened? Should she try to talk to him and ease his worries? Should she give him some space and then try to talk to him when she was sure he was less then embarrassed to be around her? All she knew is that she didn't like her first option. She liked the Sirius Black who confided in her, the Sirius Black who clung to her and wouldn't let her out of his grip. She knew his reputation and as a friend she would happily settle because he was just a boy who needed someone to confide in. Yeah he had his other friends but being so opposed to letting himself become romantically loved was what was keeping him in that bubble of his, and it was slowly tearing him apart without him ever realizing it.

 She saw him in a different light after that night and there was no way she was going to let him go back to hiding in that bad boy with no emotions shell of his.

 She wrapped her arms around her waist and gave a silent sigh.

 “Do you,” she stayed silent for a second before continuing,”do you guys think I should go after him and see how he’s doing?”

 “Not really,” James replied, shrugging his shoulders.

 “Um, give him some space, and maybe sometime to get his head on straight.” Remus replied, leaning into the couch under him.

 [name] leaned her body into the soles of her feet as her features turned into a tiny frown.

 “Okay, would you let me know how he's doing later? I’m concerned about him.”

 “Yeah, we got you.”James gave a small smile,”We’ll let you know as soon as we figure something out.”

 “Alright, thank you,”The [hair color] female nodded her head slightly,”Thank you.”

 She turned herself around and walked towards her friends, who were all waiting for her on the other side of the room.

 “What was his problem?” One friend whispered.

“We told you he was only going to be in it for the night.” Another one stated.

She only nodded her head and changed the subject to something she recollected her friend bragging about earlier that day.

 The rest of the day was spent with Sirius trying to avoid the girl. His thought process was something not even his best of friends could understand. He was on edge with every turn of a corner and every drop of a pin.

 “Sirius, you look like a lunatic,” Remus said as he placed a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder,”You need to calm down a bit.”

  Sirius pressed his lips together, unsure on how to reply to his dear friend.

 “She isn't going to hurt you, you should try talking to her. I mean at least then you can figure out what the hell was said to her.” James piped in.

 Sirius shook his head, still as hard headed as ever.”No.”

 His friends only nodded and continued on, talking about something he couldn't quit recall.

 Later the next day, Sirius sat with his friends at the lunch table, deciding on the next big bash they were going to throw. Tho his head wasn't a hundred precent locked into the conversation.

 No, it was locked on the girl way ahead of him, laughing with her friend. All that went through his head as he stared at her were three questions; 

‘How much does she know?’

‘What goes through her mind when she looks at him?’

‘Does she see him differently? 

But no matter how much the questions were nagging at the back of his head, he wasn't going to allow himself the chance to figure it out, no, he was just going to pretend that it never happened and hope that it eventually simmers away at some point. Hell, he’ll avoid the problem even if it meant ignoring that pretty little Ravenclaw who probably did some magic spell to cause him to become as vulnerable as he had.

Though [name] was a little more adamant about talking to him about what happened, but she decide to give him some space to get his emotions in order.

For now, at least.

She’ll try again in a couple of weeks, though even then she would assume that everything he had told her two nights prier would take more than a couple of weeks to heal from, but she had hope she could help in that healing process.

 And as per usual another party happened, [name] was in the corner talking to her friends with a drink in her hand when she saw the one boy she had been waiting to arrive. Well she hopes at least. She had more drinks than she had hoped to drink, so when she saw a figure that looked like said boy, she had marched over to him, head high and chess puffed out to show that she meant business.

 Sirius, on the other hand, watched as the [hair color] stumbled around trying to get to some guy he's seen around school.

 An amused smirk was imprinted on his lips as he saw her eyes widen and face pale out, rushing back to her friends as they all laughed at her.

 “You want another drink?” A voice shouted next to him.

 Sirius simply nodded and leaned further into the couch hidden in the opposite side of the room from the girl.

 He found it entertaining to watch her as she searched for him. It made him feel like he was wanted by more than just his friends, and that for some reason made him feel warm inside.

 He grabbed the drink that was shoved in front of him, bringing the cup to his lips as his eyes peered over the rim, eyes still locked on the girl.

 As the night progressed, some of the students had decided it was time to head back, holding onto their friends who lazily hanged off of them, stumbling every once in a while trying to maintain their balance. The music had lowered to a barely audible volume allowing the mixed mumbling of conversations amongst the groups of students to fill the air.

 [name] was sat, spaced out, on the floor with her back against a wall, her eighth drink in hand and hardly any liquid left in it. Her friends were off to the side speaking a mumbled conversation that was barely reaching her ears. Her mind was swirling with thoughts of the dark hard boy she so desperately tried confronting in her drunken state. She wasn’t sure if she was upset or just hurt that he was avoiding her like the plague. Either way, she just wanted to talk to him, to sort it all out, to find out why he wouldn't even look at her direction.

 All she wanted to do was prove to her friends that he wasn't as bad as everyone made him out to be. That he was a sweet, kind hearted person, like the boy she had talk to while he was in a drunken state of mind. But now she feels like maybe there was some truth to what was being thrown around about said boy. With tear glazed eye, she abruptly stood up, no long wanting to be around anyone that wasn't herself. She stumbled her way towards her friends with the plaidtic cup clutched to her hand.

 “Hey, [name] are you okay?” One friend asked.

 The others stared at her, waiting for an answer. The [hair color] girl looked to the floor before her eyes met with her friend’s once more. She wasn't fully sure if that was a question she wanted to answer at that moment. She sucked in her lower lip, chewing on it slightly as she carefully considered every sentence possible that would keep them from suspecting what they already knew.

 “Yeah I have a massive migraine, I think it might have been the drink.” She swayed a little while giving out her response.

 “Oh, did you want me to come with you? You don't look well enough to leave by yourself.” Another friend asked.

 [name] shook her head,”It’s fine,” She gave a small smile,”I think I just need some time to myself.” 

 Sirius watched as the Ravenclaw disappeared behind the door, eyes glued to the slowly closing door 

 He mentally debated wether to follow her, but he kept himself back, worry and anxiety bubbling up in his mind about where the conversation might lead to. Confrontation? Arguments? He couldn't handle that right now. Especially at the risk that he most likely would have to fight his inner demons. He couldn’t do that to himself. Not right now.

 He looked at the empty cup in her hand, watching the few drops of liquid  collect at the angle he was hold it in. 

 “Man you look like you need another drink!” James bellowed, slapping Sirius on the shoulder.

 Sirius gave a small smirk, shaking his head,”I’m good, think I should head back.”

 “Oh come on, we’re just getting started. Let’s have one more round.”

 “Okay, fine. Just one more round then I'm heading back.” Sirius grabbed the drink in James’ hand, throwing his head back and downing most of its contents.

 [name] wondered the halls of the school, her drunken mind racing with thoughts that she shouldn't be thinking with such a fragile state of mind.

 She raised her hand and let it grace against the walls of the school as she continued forward. She had decided on heading outdoors and enjoying the cool air of the night, that should be able to clear her mind a bit, or at least she had hoped so.

 She gently pushed open the doors that led to the back of the school. She tugged her sweater to her frame as the chill of the night caressed her soft skin.

 Never once did she ever think that she would be the one to end up in such a complicated situation, at least not herself out of her group of friends. Her main problem was always trying to see the good in people no matter what reputation life brought them. There’s always a tragic story behind every face no matter how small or how big the situation is to others around them. You truly never realized what someone is going through until it's too late.

 She ran her hands through the back fabric of her skirt as she came to a stop in front of an inviting pond, choosing to sit and contemplate her life in peaceful silence, by herself.

 Or so she hoped.

 As she sat there spaced out in her own world, a body came crashing down beside her, slightly knocking into her side as they adjusted themselves.

 Her slight scare turned into bewilderment and then soon replaced with irritation and sadness. The one person she was hoping to get away from after searching all night for was sitting right next to her in silence, eyes fixated on the body of water before them. She had scooted herself slightly away from the person and hugged her arms around her legs and brought her chin to lay onto her knees. The sound of the wind blowing gently was the only thing that filled her ears during the silence that surrounded the both of them.

 Sirius had no idea how to proceed, if anything his ears were red and his heart was pounding too fast for him to comprehend.He was scared to look her in the eyes, afraid of what she might think of him after everything, afraid that he would say more than he should.

 He cleared his throat while rubbing his hands together, hoping the friction would create warmth.

 “I’m sorry.” He stated, his voice amplified but the wind.

 [name] simply nodded her head, eyes staring ahead. She was afraid that all she had been building up inside of her would come pouring out of her like an erupting volcano.

 A single moment filled with silence passed as they both observed each others energy. It was like they both had so much to say but nothing to speak of at the same time.

 “I-, um. I’m sorry for treating you the way that I did. Those things I told you about are things that I don't like others to know about. I don't want to feel judged by those who don't know me based on my situation, because no one truly knows the little details, or how it affects me, just the things that lay at the surface. I was scared you would judge me, or worse, use it against me in some way.”

 [name] shook her head slightly and moved to meet his teary eyed gaze. Her heart was thumping just as hard as his was.She gave her lip a small nibble before proceeding to chose her next words carefully.

 “I’m not angry, I'm just upset that you would do anything but talk to me. I promise I’m not a scary person to talk to. I just wanted to get to know you.”

 “Why?”

 “I don't really don't know, I guess I wanted to see what everyone as so interested in. People would whisper about you when you walked down the hall, some absurd things, but I didn't think you could be so bad, so I approached you to see if I can get a feel about who you could be. You were really drunk and so I took you to your room so you wouldn't be left around all those people in your condition. I never once judged you, I never could, but I'm sorry if I ever did make you feel that way, it wasn't my intention.”

 The black haired boy stayed silent, processing the words that had just left her lips.

“You defiantly gave me a thought and a notion.” He gave her a small smile.

 She smiled back at him. Her heart felt filled, She couldn't understand the happiness that cursed through her body as she stared at him.

 “You really played with my heart and emotions,” She stated, laying her her legs out in front of her.

 He gave her a little smirk,”How about I give you love and devotion?”

 She rolled her eyes and laughed.”Please no mr. heartbreaker with me, Ive had enough of that for a whole year.”

 He stared at her, examining her feature slowly, afraid to break his gaze from her soft skin.

He scooted closer to her, they're hands barely touching as he brought his lips to her ear.

 “Would you eventually love me blue?” He whispered, his hot breath hitting the base of her ear, He turned his face to look into her eyes, their noses slightly touching.

 “Eventually.”

Note; I’ve had this in my drafts for a while and decided to finish it up real quick and post it. Please don't come for my neck if anything in the story doesn't line up with the movie, even details I just started watching them and felt like making this. Enjoy!

[forever-rogue]

Keep Quiet

Inspired by THIS little ask! You guys wanted some sex on Steve’s desk, you get some sex on Steve’s desk. Ask and you shall receive ;)

Warning: ...smut (with a little bit of plot); 18+ only! also SOFT!Javi! So enjoy :)

Word Count: 4k

Pairing: Javier Pena x Reader

MASTERLIST

PS - extra points to anyone who knows where the whole sex on the desk and co-worker finding out scenario is from!

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Javi,” you moaned into his mouth as his large came down to your ass and give it a firm squeeze. You broke your kiss with him, and grabbed his forearms, pulling his hands off of you. He smirked at you, earning even stronger glare at you sighed at him.

“Baby-”

“No,” you held up your finger, raising your eyebrow as you pressed it against his lips. Javi, naturally took this opportunity to press a quick kiss to your finger, his mustache tickling you. Rolling your eyes at his childishness, you leaned against your desk and tried to give him a glare. It didn’t work terribly; it was hard to stay mad at the innocent face he was pulling, “Javier Peña,  you’re going to be the death of me.”

“Don’t worry,” he joked, coming closer and wrapping his arms around you, despite your lack of response, giving the crown of your head a small kiss, “the only way you’ll end up dead on my account is if you’ve died and gone to heaven-”

“Javier-”

“Because I’ve made you cum too many times-”

“JAVI!” you groaned at him and pushed him away, hiding your face behind your hands. He threw his head back with laughter, clearly amused at the situation and your reaction before going back to his desk across from yours, “you’re going to get us found out. And then I’ll kick your ass.”

“No one knows, baby, and no one will find out unless we choose to tell them,” he promised, giving you that stupid, goofy little smile of his. You rolled your eyes at him, but couldn’t help the smile that crossed your own features. It was a moment in which you realized just how much you loved him; which was, of course, more than life itself. Who would have thought? A few years ago, hell probably even a few months ago, you never thought this would ever happen. But here you were, completely and truly in love with Javi. Almost as if he could read your mind, he silently mouthed at you, “I love you.”

You stuck out your tongue at him, but not before repeating the sentiment to him as well. You were about to say something else, but you were quickly interrupted by Steve murmuring under his breath as he walked into the office, a cup of the pathetic excuse for coffee in his hand. You exchanged a look with Javi, who just shrugged his shoulders.

“Good morning, Steve,” you walked over to him, grabbing the coffee from him and setting on the desk before giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, “what’s wrong? You’re usually the only cheery thing in the entire building this time of day.”

“Nothing,” he sighed as he slinked into this seat, rubbing at his tired face, “just up late last night with Olivia, Con needed some rest, so I took over. And the ambassador decided to take it upon herself to personally chew me out for our lack of progress the last couple of months. All in all it’s been a great morning - and we’re still stuck with this shitty coffee. I asked ages for at least a decent coffee maker.”

“Hey,” you sat at the edge his desk, doing your best to give him a small smile, “it’s going to be okay. It’s just one of those days, but we’ll get through it. We always do, right? Javi?”

“Always,” he agreed, standing up and reaching for his jacket, “but for now, how about we all get out of here and get some decent fucking coffee? At least it’ll get us out of here for a while.”

“Deal,” you and Steve chorused before following suit and grabbing your things and heading out. You weren’t particularly motivated to work that day, and the idea of getting out of the quiet and tense atmosphere of the embassy sounded like the best option.

»»————-　♡　————-««

About halfway through coffee, which had turned into a breakfast consisting of several courses between the three of you, spirits were running much higher. It might have been due to the delicious food you were consuming, the shit talking, or the several rounds of mimosas. It was probably a combination of the three. You’d all been tenses and stressed for weeks, and it turned out that this was something you all desperately needed. 

You were situated in a booth of aging leather, equally between Javi and Steve, mostly sitting back and listening to the rapport between the two men, and knocking back more than a fair share of alcohol. At one point, you’d even sneaked Javi’s glass, but it seemed lost to the men as they were heavily engaged in their little conversation. You didn’t even really know what they were talking about, but you knew it wasn’t work related; they were too happy for that.

But at some point, Javi’s hand found its way onto your thigh, toying with the hem of the dress you were wearing. It had been a warm morning and you’d decided to wear a dress for once, instead of a skirt or suit. At first you didn’t think anything of it, but eventually his large hand pushed your dress up higher and higher, until his fingers were grazing the bare skin near the apex of your thighs. Your eyes widened as you came to your senses and realized what was going. Glancing at Javi, you could see a smirk placing on the bastard’s features; Steve hadn’t noticed anything out of place.

“Javi,” you said quietly as fingers moved to push your panties to the side. He turned to you with an innocent smile, one eyebrow raised as he waited for you to go. Steve also turned to look at you, and you felt your entire being flush with warmth. Trailing his fingers through your heat and gathering up some of the slickness, he pretended to wait for you to go on. Just as you opened your mouth to say something else, he ever so lightly brushed your clit, and it took every ounce of strength within you not to moan out loud.

“Everything okay?” Steve seemed mildly concerned as he noticed you struggling, your chest starting to rise and fall in a more rapid manner, “Y/N?”

“Fine,” you managed to get out, giving him a smile you hoped was natural. Steve seemed satisfied enough and turned back to Javi, picking up their conversation as if Javi didn’t have his fingers in your aching center. 

You shot a warning glance at him, but he either didn’t notice or pretended not to. Instead, he continued on, teasing your clit lightly, just enough to start the tingling in your bones as the familiar tightening in your belly increased. At one point, you reached down and grabbed his hand to try and get him to stop; here you were in the middle of a small diner, about to orgasm due to your boyfriend’s incessant ministrations. What a morning.

He obliged for a moment, resting his hand on thigh and and trailing his fingers over the soft skin, which caused you to clench your legs to together. You weren’t sure how much longer you were going to to be able to take. Maybe you could quickly dash into the bathroom and finish yourself off? Yes. That seemed like a plausible idea, but as you moved to get up, Javi’s hand firmly held you in place. He turned to give a stern look, which turned you on more than anything. So you obliged, and remained rooted in your seat, wondering if he would finish the job himself then. 

It took a few minutes before he carried on, his large hands spreading your legs apart and going back to your aching core. He took a few moments before to touch you gently, almost too tender, before slipping a fingers inside of you. You were so wet, you could definitely hear it, and you were surprised Steve didn’t; Javi kept an expert poker face. If Steve heard or noticed anything out of place, he offered no indication of it. But just as Javi started to pumped his thick fingers more rapidly, he used the pad of his thumb to rub your clit. The sensation surprised you, and you inadvertently slammed your hand on the table, gathering a few concerned glances. You coughed awkwardly and grabbed your napkin, covering your mouth to hide the little whimpers that spilled past your lips. 

Javi was pleased, beyond pleased with himself as he carried on like nothing had happened. When you were close, you automatically started to lightly rock your hips to meet his pace, a sense of exhilaration flooding through your veins at both the pleasure you were experiencing and the sheer audacity of the act in such a public place. 

He gave you a slight nod when he felt your walls start to clench around his fingers, as if telling it was okay to cum. You squeezed the edge of the table so firmly that your knuckles were turning white as he drew out your orgasm, slowly guiding you through it. Only when you had stopped writhing in your seat and he was satisfied that you were finished did he remove his hand from center. Steve excused himself to go to the bathroom and once he was out of view, Javi brought his hand to mouth and cleaned his cum coated fingers clean, learning a look of both admiration and annoyance from you.

“How was everything?” your waitress came back to start gathering your dirty dishes, a wide smile on her face.

“Delicious,” he responded with a wicked smile, “simply delicious.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

You’d remained silent as Steve and Javi paid for brunch, and the three of you made the dreaded trudge back to the office. You’d been unmotivated already, and now, in your slightly buzzed state, coming down from your high, you really didn’t want to do anything else. What you really wanted to do was just head out for the day and bring Javi home with you, but that clearly wasn’t an option. 

“What’s wrong?” he had the nerve to ask as you sat down at your desk and reached for your trust water bottle, downing it in one ago. You set the glass bottle back on your desk, eyes looked onto his, staring him down. Steve was off doing Lord knows what, leaving you the two of you alone, “baby, you’re breaking my heart, looking at me with those eyes.”

“Javier,” you adopted a serious tone as you stood, straightening to your full height as you sauntered over to him. He leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head, licking his lips at the sight of you trying to be domineering, “what the hell was that? You’ve got some nerve doing that! In public, where anyone could have seen! Do you ever think about the consequences?”

“I didn’t hear you complaining,” he wasn’t phased by your little tirade in the slightest, “the only sounds I heard was how wet-”

“Javi,” you sighed as you rubbed your temples, “what the hell was I supposed to say? In front of Steve? Javi, please get your fingers out of me and stop trying to make me cum? I don’t think so, asshole!”

“Mi amor-”

“No!” you hissed at him, narrowing your eyes, “you don’t get to use Spanish to try and get out of this one. Just because you think you’re so sexy and-”

“Hermosa-”

“No!”

“Novia-”

“Stop,” you leaned over and grabbed his jaw with your hand, forcing him to look into your eyes. Gods, he had the sweetest eyes, so warm and deep; it made it hard to focus on the fact that you were annoyed with him. Unable to stop yourself, you gave him a soft kiss, letting your lips linger on his, still tasting the sweet champagne from brunch.

“I thought you were mad at me,” he teased against, smiling against your lips.

“I am, buddy, trust me,” you reminded him, “and this discussion isn’t over-”

“Guys, I think-” Steve had chosen the perfect moment to walk back into the small, shared space. He was looked right at the two of you, still in the compromising position: you leaned over Javi’s desk, his face in your hands, “what’s going on...is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” you quickly snapped out of it and pulled back, dusting your hands off on your dress, as if you were trying to get rid of any evidence of what had just happened, “this one just couldn’t understand what I was saying. I was just trying to make sure he finally understood.”

“Loud and clear, Agent L/N,” he shot you and Steve a dazzling grin as you swallowed the lump in your throat, moving back to your desk. It was so tensely quiet the only sound in the room was the click of your heels on the linoleum floor.

“What’s wrong, Steve?” you pulled a stack of papers closer to you, looking at him with a saccharine expression on your face. He may not have known exactly what was going on, but he knew it was something.

“Nothing,” you could easily hear the hint of skepticism in his voice as he looked between the two of you several times, head moving back and forth as though he was watching a tennis back, “is there...something going on with the two of you?”

“No,” you and Javier spat out the word at the same, causing you to groan internally. That certainly wouldn’t deter any attention. 

“Javi’s just a being a stubborn fool,” you shot the dark haired man a firm glare so he wouldn’t say anything else, “sometimes you just need to tough with him to get him to understand what you’re staying. But you would know that better than anyone else, Murph.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding lightly as he started to look for papers on his desk. Your heart that had been rattling around in your chest slowly eased up when you realized he wouldn’t push the issue right now, “well, I guess we should get to work.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

The end of the day finally approached and you were more than ready to leave for the day and unwind at home. Quickly throwing your things in your bag, you set it on your desk as you went to the coat rack near Steve’s desk to grab your jacket. Steve, whether tired or just weirded out from the day, had already left a few minutes prior, leaving just you and Javi remaining. You hadn’t said another word to him all afternoon, instead offering him a very obvious silent treatment. 

He quickly and silently made his way to your side, putting his hands on your waist as you tensed up in surprise. You sighed lightly, both in pleasure at the feel of his large hands on your body and in annoyance, but it didn’t deter him from starting to pepper kisses all over your neck and the exposed parts of your shoulder.

“Javier,” you said as firmly as you could, as he pulled you tightly against his body, an arm wrapping around your stomach and on hand slowly roaming up to your breasts. You had to bite back a moan as you manage to hiss, “anyone can walk in and see-”

“Let them,” he growled in your ear, setting a flame off in the pit of your belly, “let them see me fuck you senseless.”

“Javi,” he told the opportunity to flip you around and set you on Steve’s desk, knocking a few things out of place. You could see that his normally honeyed eyes were dark with lust, along with the straining that you spied happening in his pants. You put your hand in the center of his chest in a vain attempt to stop him and try to collect yourself, “we shouldn’t do this.”

“I know,” he agreed and the two of you exchanged a look, and  a few moments of silence passed between the two of you. Before any other words were exchanged, he crashed his lips onto yours, his deft hands immediately moving to start undo the buttons of your dress, He kissed along your neck and jaw, nipping at the delicate flesh, making sure there would be bruises for you to find tomorrow. Normally you’d chide him, or make him stop, but today you didn’t bother, “you expect me to keep my hands off of you when you come in looking like that? God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

He pulled down the straps of your dress and swiftly undid your bra, effortlessly tossing it to the side as his mouth found your breasts. You already were lost for words, unable to get anything coherent out, wrapping your arms around his neck, threading a hand through his dark locks as you held him against your chest. 

He sucked on the delicate skin of your breast before taking your pert nipple into his mouth, his hand massaging your other breast, pinching and rolling your nipple, causing shivers of pleasure to run through your body. 

“Jesus,” you managed to moan out as you started to subconsciously rocked your hips against him. You could tell your panties were already soaked, and you probably would cum easily once he moved to touch you. He smirked at you before trailing kisses up your chest and stopping at your smirked, “you’re wearing too much clothing.”

He let out a velvety laugh as you reached to start to undo his button up, getting frustrated with the few bottom buttons and resorted to ripping the shirt open and he tugged off it off, “eager, are we?”

“Shut up,” you teased as your wrapped him towards you, wrapping your arms around him, his warm, bare chest against your. You always relished the feel of his skin on your skin; it was such an intimate, special thing, and he felt like no other. Javi kissed you, slowly, deeply, but with hunger as he took his time with you, holding you closely against him. Every once in a while, soft little mewls left your lips and you could feel him smiling against you, “I love you, Javi.”

“I love you too, hermosa,” he agreed, stopping his actions and just hugging you, his arms around you like a vice grip as you buried your face into the crook of his neck. You loved this - loved him and it always felt like home when he held you like this. It was different from how he’s ever held anyone else before; no, this was all for you. He was all yours as you were all his.

“Javi,” you whispered against his skin, trailing a few kisses along his neck, “make love to me, please.”

He murmured a soft reassurance into your ear  before kissing the side of your head. He pulled back and you undid the button and fly of his trousers, letting them pool onto the floor before doing the same to his boxers. 

Pushing your dress up to your waist, he gently pulled off your panties and let them fall to the floor. He took a few moments to trail soft kisses along your thighs before giving your lips a few pecks. He took his hard cock and ran it along your folds for a moment, coating it in your slickness before pushing in slowly. You moaned at the delicious of him feeling you so completely, stretching you in the most perfect way. 

Javi let out a soft moan when he was fully inside you, getting adjusted to how perfect you left. He wrapped his arms around you as you stayed like that, completely still for a few moments, only exchanging a few kisses. You sighed contently as he slowly started to move. Sometimes when you had sex, it was rough and fast, both of you only chasing your highs. Sometimes it was like this; soft and gentle, and slow. You didn’t have a preference of either, typically, but right now, this felt perfect in every way.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispered in your ear, as he thrust into at a languid place, taking his sweet time with your body and placing gentle kisses all over your skin, “and so beautiful. Everything.”

“Javi,” you breathed softly as your arms wrapped around his neck. He reached down and gently rubbed your clit, keeping perfect time with his strokes. You bit down lightly on his shoulder into our to keep from crying out in pleasure, but only a small Javi left your lips, causing him to smile.

The buildup was slow, but you soon found yourself coming completely undone, body going weak as your vision started to get hazy. Javi pulled back and rested his forehead against yours, his eyes locked onto you and a lazy smile on hips, “let go, mi amor, cum for me.”

You closed your eyes, biting down on your bottom lip as you felt him twitch inside of you, “cum with me, Javi. Cum inside me.”

He groaned lightly at your nods, but was more than happy to oblige you, rutting his hips into you a few more times before spilling inside of you as your clenched around him. Throwing your head back in ecstasy, his name fell off your lips over and over like a prayer. He quickly followed, burrowing his face into your neck as he drew our your highs, staying burrowed inside you as long as possible. 

“I love you, mi amor,” he whispered in your ear as your breathing started to even out, “you’re so perfect in every way.”

“You’re just saying that because I let you cum inside me,” you joked as you put your hands on either side of his face, running a finger along his cheekbone before giving his nose a kiss.

“I mean it doesn’t hurt,” he agreed with a wink, still holding tightly onto you, fingers ghosting over the the bare skin of your back, “but it’s most because I love you. Truly. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “I know. I’ve know that since the night you showed up on my doorstep when you were supposed to be meeting with an informant. You can to me instead and said nothing is right when it’s not you. That’s when I knew.”

“I remember that night,” his grin threatened to split his face in half as he nuzzled his nose against yours, “it was the first night we stayed together after having sex.”

“I know,” you laughed lightly, “when did you first realize I loved you?”

“When you yelled at me any time something happened or went wrong,” he explained, “whenever I’d do anything even remotely risky, or get even a scratch, you’d yell at me and tell me to be careful. It would be something so small that it didn’t even really matter, but you would get so upset. That’s how I knew.”

“We’re just saps, aren’t we?” you asked as he nodded, “but I’m glad for that. For you. There’s no one else I’d rather love or be loved by, Javier Pena.”

“Agree,” he booped the tip of your nose gently before grabbing your hand and placing a kiss to your palm, “now let’s go home. We can stop and grab some food-”

“And wine?”

“Obviously,” he smiled as he finally, slowly pulled out of you, reaching into Steve’s desk and grabbing a few napkins from Steve’s stash to clean you up. You both stopped for a moment before laughing, “do you think he’ll notice?”

“Not a chance,” you said as you slid off the desk and started to do up your dress again, “we’ll just make sure to put everything back. He’ll never know.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[be11atrixthestrange]

Waking Up In Vegas Chapter 6

After a night of debauchery, Ron and Hermione wake up in Vegas... married.

Muggle!AU. Romcom!Romione. Slow burning, smutty, angst-fest.

Rated M for reasons.

Ao3 | FFN

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More Chapters

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-NSFW Warning-

[Hermione]

The walk back to the hotel begins in silence, and at first, Hermione doesn't mind because her head is still reeling from their conversation with Dave. She and Ron are married — legitimately married — and it looks like, at least for now, it's going to stay that way. She glances sideways at him to see that he's wearing a focused and calm expression. She can't read it at all. What the hell is he thinking?

A better question is, what are they going to do? Will they tell people, or just keep it quiet? Will they at least talk about it?

Ron must notice her eyes boring into the side of his face, because he meets her gaze. It's only for a fraction of a second, because Hermione instinctively breaks contact. Ron snorts in response.

"What?" she asks.

She can sense him shrugging next to her and nearly rolls her eyes, but doesn't. He might interpret it as antagonization, and she is too exhausted to fight.

Shoulder to shoulder, they continue to trudge through the smothering heat, through dusty alleys and run-down buildings, searching for the glamorous side of the city again.

Hermione keeps her eyes forward, hoping to appear nonchalant, but for some reason, she's finding it quite difficult to ignore Ron the way she wants to. Instead, she's hyper-aware of his every action. She can hear his breath, which is more labored than usual, probably a result of the weather. She still feels his shrug and scoff, and for some reason, it really annoys her. She can sense him watching her from the corner of his eye, which leaves her prickling with insecurities. She wants to say something defensive, or at the very least, call him out on his attitude, but she can't. It's almost as if she cares what he thinks of her. Or worse, she wants him to like her.

"Are you ok?"

She startles at his question, but not because she doesn't expect him to speak up. She definitely anticipates it because she's both aware of his every move, and distracted by the potential meaning behind each one, even though there's no meaning behind anything he says or does, because they're not really married, and she doesn't really like him. It's none of that.

The question startles her because it's laced with compassion she doesn't expect, and she can't help but answer honestly.

"I don't know."

Ron sighs, and she imagines him wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders. She doesn't know why and wills herself not to care.

Hermione opens her mouth to speak again, but a voice interrupts before she can.

"Hey! Will you two take a photo of us?" It's a petite brunette woman with hopeful eyes who asks. She's clutching the arm of a stocky, bearded man with thick glasses and a Hawaiian shirt. Like Ron and Hermione, they are clearly not from Las Vegas either.

"Uh, sure!" says Ron, reaching for her camera.

"Thanks!"

It's now that Hermione realizes they're on a bridge overlooking the city, and it's quite beautiful. The sun is lowering in the sky, and its rays reflect off the skyscraper windows like disco balls. She can faintly see elements of The Strip — roller coasters, the Eiffel Tower replica, fountains and ferris wheels. Even among the surrounding land — a barren and inhospitable desert — the city's bursting with life. It's unnatural, yet strangely hopeful, a true testament to both human ambition and hard-headedness.

Building a thriving city in a resource vacuum shows the same 'challenge accepted!' attitude that leads people into marriages when over fifty percent of them end in divorce. Hermione would laugh it off if that realization didn't hit a sore spot. Like a mirror to her psyche, it describes her perfectly — tell Hermione Granger that she can't do something, she'll set out to prove otherwise, even if it doesn't make sense. Just because she's brimming with ambition doesn't mean she knows where to spend it. She glances at Ron, frustrated by his blank, unreadable expression as he positions the camera.

She watches on as the couple poses for a few pictures. Their arms wrap around one another, they share a few quick kisses, and their skin glows from both heat and happiness. The bustling urban background of Las Vegas perfectly juxtaposes the effortless calm shared between the two. Hermione smiles as Ron crouches to snap a few photos from different angles.

When Ron hands them back their camera, they scroll through a few of the photos and smile. "These are great! We just got married yesterday and didn't have any photos!"

"Oh, congratulations!" says Hermione.

"So did we!" says Ron, slipping an arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Yesterday, actually!"

Perplexed, Hermione glares at Ron, and he smiles back endearingly. I guess we're telling people.

Their exchange goes unnoticed by the friendly brunette, who's beaming and clapping excitedly. "Wonderful, let us take a photo of you!"

"It's really okay—" starts Hermione.

"Actually," interrupts Ron. "We'd love that!"

"Great!"

Ron hands the woman his phone, and before Hermione can process it all, he's tugging her across the pavement to pose for a photograph. Ron tightens his embrace, and she instinctively wraps her arms around his torso. Her head fits perfectly into the crook of his neck.

A smile spreads on her face, and she's tempted to glance up to see if Ron's grin looks as natural as hers feels. It's like they've done this a thousand times — posed for pictures, smiled together, embraced. It feels comfortable, and she wonders if it all felt that way last night. Of course, Hermione still doesn't know exactly what they did last night, at least beyond getting married, but this feels good.

His arm locked confidently around her feels secure and established. His stubble brushing against her skin sends pins and needles all the way to her toes. The smell of his cologne brings a powerful jolt of nostalgia. It's proof that they've been this close before, and Hermione suddenly wishes she never scrubbed his scent from her body earlier this morning. It feels like any important links to her memory disappeared down the drain with it, and who knows if she'll ever be able to get them back. It's not like she'll ever be covered in his cologne again, and she can't stand this close to him forever, breathing him in and trying to remember. He might find it odd.

"C'mon, give her a kiss!" The man's voice hits Hermione in the pit of her stomach. He has no idea what he's asking of them.

Her heart sinks when Ron stiffens next to her. How are they going to get out of this? She turns to him to discover his face has deepened to a crimson shade, and it's definitely not just from the sun this time.

"Well, you heard the man," he whispers. His jaw clenches with either nerves or dread. She doesn't know which one it is and reminds herself that she shouldn't even care. Ron's eyes move to her lips, and Hermione's heartbeat intensifies to the point where he can probably hear it. She's never been so curious about what her mouth looks like up close, and she wishes she had put on a spot of makeup or at the very least, taken a breath mint. She normally prides herself on her preparedness, but it never crossed her mind to prepare for this.

Before she can react, the space between them closes. If there was more time for anxiety, she'd worry that they'd fumble this and reveal their charade. She wouldn't know where to put her hands on his body, or how far to lift up onto her toes to meet his lips precisely. She'd worry she'd open her mouth too little and appear stiff or open it too much and seem overly eager. They might bump noses, knock teeth, or misread each other's signals about when to stop, demonstrating their utter lack of communication skills and compatibility.

Those anxieties don't have time to take root. They vanish completely when he closes the gap between them and draws her into a kiss. She can't worry about what her mouth looks like because she's overwhelmed by the confident yet gentle way he manipulates her lips. Any fears about her breath disappear when she tastes him, because his taste is just so Ron; it's exactly what she would expect if she allowed herself to entertain such preposterous daydreams. There's no need to think about where to place her hands because they automatically slide around his neck. Her fingers settle at his hairline where she can feel the muscles of his jaw driving their kiss, and his arm wraps around her lower back, pulling her body firmly against his.

In Hermione's experience, it takes time to learn the nuances of kissing someone. Finding a rhythm should require practice, so Hermione can't explain how they predict each other's movements and meet effortlessly in the middle, no trial, no error. When Ron's tongue drifts teasingly across her lower lip, she responds with an invitation that's neither hesitant nor over-eager; it just is. There is no bumping of noses and no clashing of teeth, and she's unconcerned with detecting any signal to stop because he definitely hasn't given one yet.

For a moment, she forgets they're in public. He seems to forget too, because his hand slides even lower on her body and rests on the curvature of her bum. His fingers grip her dress, unintentionally hiking it up a little further than her normal conservatism would permit. The sudden breeze between her legs results in a soft moan, and she playfully captures his lower lip between her teeth. He hums appreciatively, the sound vibrating right into her fingers that still rest on his neck, and his lips curve into a flirtatious smirk against her mouth. She presses her body more firmly against him, and his grip on her dress tightens in encouragement. He shifts his hips ever so slightly, but the effect is immediate, as she can now feel the extent of his affection for her pressing against her through his khaki shorts. He shamelessly pins her body to his growing erection, making no effort to hide it from her.

His mouth softens against hers, which evolves their kiss to a new dynamic, one that's slower, more sensual, and no longer about pleasure, but intimacy and communication. There's nothing vague in its message for Hermione to overanalyze, no confusing signals to misread and later weaponize. It's just clear and simple.

Much too soon, someone clears their throat, and Ron and Hermione break away from one another. Her dress falls back into place when he removes his hands. She flexes her fingers a couple of times, resenting the air against her palms. It feels so empty when compared to the luxurious feel of his soft hair, stubble, and dancing muscles in his neck.

"I think I got a few good shots," says the brunette awkwardly, and Ron swiftly moves toward her to retrieve his phone. The smell of his cologne dissipates, and its absence is immediately noticeable. As if she left home without her wallet, it feels like she's missing something essential.

"Erm, thanks," stumbles Ron. He sounds embarrassed, and the knot in Hermione's stomach tightens. The confidence she felt from their kiss is dissipating rapidly, and she imagines it whisking down the shower drain with his cologne.

"Well, congratulations again!" The couple smiles politely and turns away, whispering to one another. They send a curious glance back their way before hustling off in the other direction.

Hermione's mortified. They must have put on quite a show. Ron keeps his eye-line on the ground as he approaches her, and shoves his hands in his pockets. "So, I guess we should head back," he says.

"I guess we should."

They turn and begin walking in silence for the second time. This time, Hermione is stiff and unsure of herself. Questions now replace what were just answers in Hermione's mind. She was so confident that the kiss was real, was it not? It really felt like clear communication, but now she's back to overanalyzing and second-guessing. She wants an explanation, preferably in the form of words this time. Even better if the words would be as clear as that kiss.

"Why did you tell them we're married?" She asks the question mostly to break the awkward silence, half expecting him not to answer.

Ron surprises her by engaging immediately. "Because we are."

"I'm sorry they made us kiss," she says, stiffening in anticipation of his response.

She regrets asking when he doesn't answer right away. They keep walking together in awkward silence instead, and every now and then, Hermione catches a whiff of his cologne. It's a comforting smell, although it has no right to be, especially not anymore. Now, it just represents something unattainable, which makes her want it more.

Hermione is usually in good control of her thoughts, but not today. A breeze brushes past them, fluttering her dress, and she can almost feel Ron's hand gripping the fabric, sliding it up. She tries to prevent it, but her mind latches onto the memory, turning it into another preposterous daydream.

In this daydream, his mouth moves against hers in a steady rhythm, curving into that taunting smirk, and he moans hungrily when she tugs his lips between her teeth. His fingers thread through her hair — of course he's a hair-puller — and he turns her back against the bridge so he can press his hardness into her leg.

"Are you?"

She almost misses his question entirely because mentally, she's still back on that bridge, enjoying the sensation of one of his hands running up the front of her body and sliding over her breast. He kneads her through the fabric, and she instinctively wraps a leg around his hip to lock him in place.

"Sorry, what?" she asks. "Am I what?"

Ron laughs. "Are you sorry?"

He sends her a sideways glance, and she tries to keep her expression neutral. It's difficult because back on that bridge, his hand moves from her breast to her bum and slips under the hem of her skirt. He lets out a growl of pleasure when his fingers grip her arse and another when they caress the lace of her knickers, saturated from her anticipation.

She shakes the image from her head. "Am I sorry about what?"

"You're on another planet, aren't you?" he says, laughing.

Just that bloody bridge.

For the second time during their walk, she can feel him rolling his eyes at her, but it's overpowered by the sensation of his fingers sliding under the fabric of her knickers. At first, he tantalisingly draws circles around her center — of course he's a tease — and his smug smile emerges against her mouth.

"Are you actually sorry that we kissed?" he asks more firmly, and she forces herself back out of her daydream.

The truth is, no, she's not sorry that they kissed. Not in the slightest. What will he say if she tells him that? Why does she have to answer first?

If he's sorry, she'll be mortified.

But, if like her, he's not, maybe they'll kiss again.

Maybe they'll do a whole lot more than kiss again, and she'll find out if he's really a hair puller and a tease. Maybe she'll learn how he reacts when he finally runs his fingers across her center and discovers how wet she is. She imagines his sexy groan as he caresses her clit with his thumb, and she has to know what he'd do next. Maybe he'll bury his fingers inside her. Maybe he'll drop to his knees and taste her. Maybe he'll simply unzip his shorts, pull his cock free, and press into her. She'll wrap her other leg around his waist as he lifts her up and fucks her better than anyone ever has before.

"I'm not sorry," she says quickly, donning a false tone of confidence. "It was a good kiss."

Her heart pretty much stops as she awaits his response. She could have lied and told him she did regret kissing him. It's something she'd normally do to save herself potential embarrassment. Unfortunately, honesty seems like the only way to make her preposterous daydream a reality, and that might be worth risking rejection. Maybe.

"I'm not sorry, either," he says. "It was a great kiss."

He makes eye contact with her when he answers, and she's again struck with the reality of how beautiful this man is. Her cheeks turn rosy, and she turns away, watching the road ahead of her and letting out a sigh of relief.

Ron chuckles next to her, and suddenly, their fingers intertwine. It's tentative at first, as if he's trying to pass it off as an accidental brush of hands in case it's rejected, but she doesn't resist at all. They fall into a natural step, and although they avoid eye contact like nervous teenagers, it lacks the same awkwardness. It's probably because their hands fit together perfectly. Although none of her daydreams involved holding hands, this feels nice too. Amazing, actually.

It's perfect, and she doesn't need anything more than his hand touching hers. However, she's human, and Ron is objectively beautiful, so her mind still wanders back to that bridge, where she lets his hand touch her everywhere else.

She's too distracted to notice they've made it back to their hotel.

"Are you thirsty?" asks Ron.

Yes.

"Sorry… what?"

He laughs and gestures to the hotel bar with his other hand. It's still bustling with energy — drinks are flowing, conversation is popping, and it might just clear up the lustful fog clouding her mind. "Can I buy you a drink? Maybe a meal? It's almost dinner-time."

Hermione checks her watch — it's almost five o'clock. How did the day escape her? "Like, a date?"

"Yes. Like a date," he says. "Wifey."

Hermione doesn't cringe at the word this time. Plus, they both need a drink. "Sure, let's have a drink," she says, adding as her stomach growls, "and some food. We'll split the bill."

He raises his eyebrows at her as if expecting something more.

"Hubby."

"There it is!" He grins and slips into the bar, with Hermione following closely behind.

It's an odd journey to a first date. It's definitely not the way she has imagined it. However, Ron is an odd guy, and maybe it's time to let her imagination run a little wilder.