#okay I finished it I’ll shut up now !!!!!!! good night fellas

[mazojo]

This whole thing was done for me and me personally

[apirateslifeforbudgie]

Wandering Star Snippet

Currently working on something! (Hint hint: log collection cover with a certain captain...) But today I was thinking about this scene I've had written for a while now! Keep in mind it's not polished or finalized 100% yet, but I think it's funny and have been wanting to share it for quite some time. And since Carmen's powers have been revealed as of last episode, I just decided to go for it today. It is a tiny bit spoiler-y, as it is from a way later episode.

Read below the cut!

Breakfast sizzled and popped in the skillet, and Killer removed it from the stove top to add it to a clean plate on the beaten island countertop behind him. Most of the spread had been picked clean by the crew - minus the captain - who sat and ate at the two tables just on the other side of the counter. The sound of forks scraping plates or cups being put back on the table replaced the usual morning chatter, and upon tiring of the silence, Heat gave a sigh.

“Alright…I’ll be the one to say it: Something happened.”

Most of the crew exchanged glances.

“Yeah?” seated directly across Heat, Haikei raised an eyebrow. “You were at the bar the other night– you saw what went down.”

“No, I mean after that. On the bow. Even after the bar, she still chose our ship. We’re all ordered off deck, and then she doesn’t show for two days?” He glanced over his shoulder to the kitchen. “Boss say anything about it to you, Killer?”

“Not a word,” Dishes clanged out as Killer placed them in the sink, and he grabbed a damp rag to wipe his hands. “You know he isn’t much of a talker.”

“Best stay out of the boss’ business,” Oscar interjected from the other table, warning his fellow crewmates. “This seems personal.”

Wire added, “And as much as I hate to say it…May as well get used to not having her around, anyway. We don’t have much longer before we reach the last island…” as he spoke, Carmen could be seen carefully peering into every angle of the room through the porthole window in the background, though she went unnoticed as Wire finished his thought. “Unless…Think maybe the boss will ask her to join the crew?”

Before any response could be given, the door opened and shut behind Carmen as she strolled in like she was already a part of the crew. Though they were taken off guard by her sudden appearance, they were just as delighted to see her again.

“Budgie!!” Noe happily threw his arms up in a greeting, and she hugged his neck from behind and sweetly spoke.

“Morning, boys,” she let her fingers gently brush against Heat’s smokey locks as she walked past and made her way into the kitchen to see the first mate. “Didn’t make my honey toast?”

“Didn’t expect you to join us – I’m a little surprised to see you this morning.”

Haikei called out to her as he took a bite. “Yeah, what’s the deal? Boss ban you from the ship again or something?”

“Because that worked so well the first time,” she teased with a smirk and Killer slapped her hand when she reached for a piece of toast on the counter. “I just figured you guys were getting sick of me and decided I should show the other crews some love. So! Now that you’ve had a little break, I came over to invite you fellas out tonight. Wanna come? We can have a bit extra fun since it got ruined last time.”

“You know you can count us in, Budgie,” Heat told her, but Wire chimed in with the concern.

“Doing okay? We haven’t really seen you since the other night.”

She crossed her arms and leaned her hip against the counter, not thrilled that the topic came up. “I’ve certainly been in worse situations.”

“That bastard….” Bubblegum gripped his fork just thinking about it. “Boss shoulda killed him.”

The Massacre Soldier spoke up. “Who’s to say he didn’t? At the very least, that guy won’t be walking that hit off for quite some time. So good news there. And speaking of the captain…” he turned his attention to Carmen. “Why do I get the sense you’re avoiding Kid?”

With a successfully stolen piece of toast in hand, Carmen could only offer a poorly-done change in subject. “Where’s your ‘Don’t Touch Anything’ apron? I like when you wear it.”

As she awaited his answer and went to bite into a corner of the toast, the door opened, causing her eyes to go wide and her body to drop on all-fours. The crew sounded out with casual greetings that were a mix of “Morning, Captain” and “Morning, Boss”, though she only heard him grunt in response and his approaching footsteps as she crawled around the far end of the counter, hair dragging the floor and toast hanging from her mouth.

“Morning, Kid,” Killer told his captain, who now stood where Carmen had just been as he handed the redhead the freshest plate.

“Go ahead and start morning routine without me, men,” Kid’s delayed reply was an order, and Carmen pressed her back into the end of the island as she intently listened, especially for footsteps. But for now, it seemed she was safe with more orders. “I got some work I wanna get done. Last I checked, we’re still on course to dock this afternoon. I want one of you to take an inventory check – see if anything needs restocked.”

“How about fruit?” Wire suggested. “Budgie may be willing to make us some more jam.”

From her hiding place, Carmen gave a thumbs-up to Haikei who confirmed for the crew. “Yeah, good idea. I get the feeling she’d be happy to.”

“Not much use for jam if there’s nothing to spread it on,” the redhead was aggravated as he observed the plate with a single piece of toast and mere crumbs. “Which one of you took an extra piece?”

Carmen’s face was flooded with dread as she heard Killer began his answer. “Oh, that was my mistake, Kid. Almost forgot,” the Massacre Soldier’s hand reached and yanked the somehow unscathed toast from her mouth, and she listened with wide eyes as he explained. “It got dropped this morning. The floors are clean if you want it.”

She heard his typical grunt of a response, but then came the concerning part – approaching footsteps. In a panic, she was on all-fours again, scuttling her way around to the outside of the counter. Some of the crew members were amused while others exchanged nervous glances as they watched her attempt at stealth while the captain once again stood where she had just been.

With only one arm, he placed the plate on the counter and began pouring a glass from one of the available pitchers. But with his height and the worried grimace on Carmen’s face, it was clear there was a real possibility of her being caught – any movement from her would be sure to catch his attention.

“Um…” Wire nervously spoke up. “Were there any more orders, boss?”

Carmen listened carefully with bated breath. From where she was pressed up against the island, she could just get a glimpse of those ridiculous lizard-print pants and that maroon feathered captain’s coat.

“Morning routine. Inventory,” he spoke after some thought, and stuffed his mouth with two pieces of bacon from the plate. “Prepare to dock in a few hours.”

“We’re on it, Kid,” Carmen heard Killer say, and the captain must’ve looked to his first mate because Bubblegum frantically gestured for her to move with his eyes. Quickly and quietly, she used her powers to levitate just above the ground and move towards the other end of the island, her calves down glowing blue and the usual trail of sparkles lighting up behind her.

“If one of you handle inventory, I’ll take over your part of morning routine,” Reck offered to anyone. “It’s been slow around here lately; I wouldn’t mind some extra work.”

Just as he finished his sentence, Carmen safely pressed her back to the end of the counter, though the sanctuary would be short-lived.

“Whatever, just get it done,” Kid placed his cup on the plate where bacon had been and carried the dish in his single had. “I’ll be in my quarters.”

Carmen had heard the footsteps immediately after the words, and before she knew it, she caught a glimpse of him walking by out of the peripheral of her wide eyes. An instant reaction, she was on all-fours for a final time, scurrying back around the counter, past Killer in the kitchen, and all the way back around to the far end where she stayed until she heard the captain kick the door close behind him.

“Whew!” she exclaimed when she bounced up, and the first mate already had his eyes on her through the mask.

“You owe me.”

“Of course, Kill,” Carmen took one of his hands and looked up to him with the utmost gratitude. “Buy you a drink tonight?” She offered as she span around him back into the kitchen where she was delighted to see that last piece of toast still on the plate. “Ooh~” As quickly as she saw it, she swiped it and was already hurrying to the exit. “Actually, I owe all of you for that. First round on me tonight! See you boys later!”

And just like that, she gone – door closed behind her and all – rushed out to avoid any and all questions.

“Alright…” the Massacre Solider spoke up to his crew, but those blue eyes behind that mask were fixed on the door. “Something happened.”

[violetlilysunshine]

Late Night

Chris Evans x Female Reader

Summary: You meet Chris working in a bar, before he invites you to his house after closing.

WC: 3,525

Warnings: maybe a quick make out?? idk if I need to warn that, but better safe then sorry. Fluff, fluff, fluff 

A/N: I’m sort of feeling a part two, because I’ve been in such a fluffy turned smutty mood recently. Anyone down?? Lemme Know :)

Tagging the lovelies that wanted this! @maximeevansblog @saltyflowermakertaco

MASTERLIST

You’ve been working in this small bar for years now; it mainly catered to older folks, the owners having fallen in love with the 40s and 50s and themed their bar after that. You quickly fell in love with the decades as well, hearing the old music and seeing all of the older people’s faces light up, reliving their glory years. However, usually, there were a couple younger groups there to relish in the theme a bit.

You started as a waitress at 18, trying to work your way through college. Quickly, you moved up to bartender, before one slow night when you randomly decided to sing along to one of the songs that the Thursday night live band always played. They were a pretty good group, and you soon found yourself listening to the songs they played in your free time. After you sang with them, the owners decided to add you to the regular Thursday night entertainment, still bartending on other nights.

You were nearing the end of your set, just two more songs to go before you could take off the heels you had ridiculously decided to wear tonight. They were very 50s and you loved the look, but, carelessly, you hadn’t broken them in yet. You thought you would be fine, but your typical little dance during Fly Me to the Moon had suffered greatly. However, they matched your midi-navy-polka-dot dress and your pin-up style curls, so it wasn’t a total loss.

“Alright everybody, we’re getting close to that time of the night,” you hummed into the microphone, “for this next one we’re gonna slow things down a bit. To those of you I’ve been watching sit in your chairs all night, you’ve only got two more chances to ask your ladies to dance. Even if you don’t know how, ask her anyway, she'll love it.” you joked.

The band started to play Paul Anka’s Put Your Head on My Shoulder, a personal favorite of yours.

“And remember, if anyone needs a partner, I’m ready and willing,” you joked as the intro played. Quite a few times, older men who no longer had a partner took you for a spin for a song or two and you loved it.

You hummed a bit before you started singing along.

As you were singing, you watched a few of the younger guys in the back finally bring their girls out on the floor. Smiling as you watched them, you swayed back and forth.

You kept going with the song, almost at the end, glad that someone hadn’t asked you to dance, because your feet were really killing you.

You finally finished it off, earning a small applause as you twirled with the mic.

“Alright y’all, last song of the night and you know what that means as well,” you spoke to the crowd, “last call for alcohol,” you sang out.

You pointed back at the bar, and your friend who was tending tonight, before she waved at the group. A few people left the dance floor to get a drink as you continued your end of the night spiel, “fellas still sitting by themselves, last chance to take a spin on the floor. I see you still sitting there in the back! It’s a short song, I promise,” you chastised the last table you saw still sitting there.

Two couples from that table got up to dance, leaving one man sitting by himself. You felt kind of bad for turning everyone’s attention to him, but you had offered earlier to dance if anyone needed a partner, so the ball was in his court.

You signaled to the band to start up and spoke, “alright here we go,” into the mic.

It’s Been a Long, Long Time kicked off, and you instantly swayed. The band didn’t usually play this song, but after your Marvel obsession kicked in, you convinced them to add it to the set list.

You sang away, loving life, but your eyes didn’t leave the man in the back. He was obscured by shadows - probably purposefully - but you felt drawn to him already. Something about him sent tingles down your spine.

Before you knew it, the song was over. You took a small bow before turning and pointing at your band, getting the audience to applaud them individually.

“Thanks everybody, have a good night and drive safe. Hope to see you next week!” you spoke quickly and everyone filed off the dance floor to collect their things.

“Thanks, you guys, that was a good show!” you spoke to the band before you rolled up your mic cord and packed it away backstage. As soon as it was safely in its case, you took a seat on one of the saxophone cases and started rubbing your feet.

Soon, the band came back to put their instruments away and you reluctantly gave up your seat. You headed to the bar to sit with your friend while she finished cleaning up; this gave you a chance to rest your feet a little more before attempting to maneuver yourself home.

You glanced around the room quickly and everyone had cleared out except the back table. They were all standing, putting on jackets, and just beginning to file out the door. The couples went first hand-in-hand, followed by the single man. You looked back at your friend and began to make small talk about the next night, seeing as you were off, before you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“That was a great set,” the man spoke out in a low raspy voice, “I wish I had a dance partner.”

“Thank you, but if I remember correctly, I did offer to dance with anyone. Anyone included you, Chris,” you quipped back lightly, chuckling.

“Well, doll, the way you were stumbling about up there, I didn’t want to risk it,” he joked back, “and you know who I am?”

“I’m gonna head in the back to finish cleaning up and then we can go,” your friend spoke, gently tapping your forearm. You usually carpool to work because you live a few houses down from each other and it just makes sense.

“Alright, sounds good,” you answered her before turning back to Chris, “well I did just sing Steve and Peggy’s song. I wouldn’t be doing it justice if I didn’t know at least its major history. And I don’t think I was stumbling.”

“Okay, fair,” he answered, “maybe stumbling wasn’t the right word, but I can tell your feet hurt in those shoes.”

A small silence settled between the two of you as you got lost in his eyes, barely registering what he had said. His lips curled into a small smile as he gazed back. His eyes darted from yours to your lips for only the slightest second, before wandering down to your feet, which you were rolling slightly on the leg of the barstool, attempting to massage them a little. He looked back into your eyes again, his smile growing. The tension in the room rose quickly, and you began to get a little hot under his gaze. You were wondering how you ever got so lucky to have Chris freaking Evans looking at you like that.

“I’d offer to get you a drink, but you did say last call a little while ago,” he spoke slowly.

“That I did,” you answered, “maybe next time.”

“Or, I could take you somewhere else,” he offered lightly, his voice raising in pitch.

“Hmm, I don’t know if my feet are up for it,” you said softly, “and I don’t know where else we would go on a Thursday night. Everyone is probably announcing their own last call.” You were surprised by your own confidence in front of him. You had no idea how you were keeping it together, let alone flirting.

“Another option,” he suggested, “I could offer you a nightcap at my place. Or maybe coffee? A glass of wine?”

“Eager there are we?” you quipped.

“Well, what can I say, that last song did it for me,” he chuckled, “but really, it would be totally casual, no expectations.”

You thought for a moment, weighing the options. He probably wasn’t a murderer, or a kidnapper. He was probably one of the gentlest guys you could go home with, and lord knows you’ve taken a few risks with others.

“Totally casual doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Really?” he asked, “great! Do you have a car here?”

“No, we carpool,” you said, gesturing at your friend who had just walked back into the room.

“Ready to go?” she asked.

“Actually I was going to head out with Chris,” you said, looking at him while you spoke.

“Oh, okay,” she said, her voice dropping slightly, “well, I’ll lock up the front and we can head out the back together then.”

“Great,” Chris answered, his eyes never leaving you.

You slipped your shoes back on and stepped down from your stool. You grabbed your purse from next to you and turned to grab your jacket, which was no longer on the back of your chair. You looked up and saw Chris holding it open for you and you slipped your arms in, your heart swooning wildly. You smiled at each other and followed your friend out the back.

You hugged her quickly, whispering “I’ll send you my location,” in her ear. After all, a girl can’t be too careful.

You followed Chris to his car around the front of the building, where he opened the door for you before jogging around to the driver’s side.

His car was nice, as to be expected, but not flashy and you enjoyed his modesty. It smelled freshly cleaned - a big plus - but also rode incredibly smoothly. You were more than content to drive around with him, listening to pop songs and belting out musicals, but before you knew it, he was pulling into his driveway.

He got out first, stepping out quickly. You waited half a second, sending your location to your friend quickly. As you were reaching for the door handle, it was being pulled from the outside. Always a gentleman, he is.

Chris flashed you a charming smile as you stepped out, swinging your purse over your shoulder.

“This way, darlin’,” he spoke lowly, shutting the car door. His hand was quick to find a home on your lower back, gently guiding you towards the front door.

Once up the stairs, he crossed in front of you, unlocking the door and slowly pushing it open. The alarm on the wall chirped, signaling the opening of the front door. Chris quickly bent down with his hands in front of his knees, preparing for the impact. Dodger came flying around the corner having heard the chirp, and slammed right into his dad’s hands before jumping onto his dad’s legs begging for pets.

“Hey bubba, how you doin’?” Chris spoke to his best friend, rubbing his ears, “this here is Y/N, be nice to her buddy, no jumping.”

Dodger quickly took notice of you and immediately tried to jump onto your legs, a greeting you weren’t necessarily against, but since Chris said no, you quickly pushed your hand down and met him on the ground. He sat at your feet, immediately accepting your presence.

“He never does that!” Chris spoke, shocked at how quickly Dodger took to you.

“What can I say? I must be magic,” you joked and shrugged at him, making him laugh.

“Well let’s move out of the doorway, yeah?” Chris asked before closing the front door behind you.

Chris moved to the side of the hallway quickly; he kicked off his shoes and encouraged you to do the same. You happily followed suit, aching to get those damn heels off again. You sighed in contentment once your bare feet hit the cool hardwood floor, throwing your head back slightly, closing your eyes, and breathing deeply.

“That bad, huh?” Chris chuckled, waiting for you at the end of the hall.

“Oh yeah, I definitely have to get used to those before I try to wear them again,” you answered back.

“Well, follow me and we’ll figure out that drink I offered.”

You set your purse on the bench next to your shoes before following him into the kitchen. He strolled around the island, resting his forearms on the island.

“Take a seat, doll,” he encouraged you, gesturing to the barstools on the other side.

Usually you wouldn’t have obliged so quickly, offering to help him make whatever, but given the state of your feet, you hopped up quickly.

“Alright, so you have a lot of options, water as always, coffee, beer - my personal favorite - tequila, a slew of other liquor, juice, soda, milk, - which would be weird but whatever - wine, take your pick,” he said smiling at you.

“Coffee sounds good to me, to be honest,” you answered quietly. You would’ve chosen beer simply because it was his favorite, but you weren’t a big fan if you’re being honest.

“Coffee it is, gorgeous,” he answered, filling the pot with water and loading in the grounds, “milk, creamer, sugar, black? What do you like?”

“Milk and sugar would be good.”

“You sure? I’ve got peppermint creamer,” he coaxed you.

“On second thought...” you chuckled, taking him up on his offer.

“Alright, doll, peppermint it is,” he laughed.

Soon the coffee was ready and as excited to try the peppermint creamer as you were, you could’ve watched him flutter around the kitchen for days. He handed you a sleek navy blue mug, taking a red one himself.

“Shall we head to the living room?”

“Whatever you want, it’s your house,” you laughed.

“Alright, follow me,” he said, leading the way, “you too, Dodge,” he called over the island. Dodger had been sitting at his feet the whole time, watching his dad.

He settled into one arm of the couch, pulling the coffee table closer to rest your mugs on. He placed his mug down and gestured for you to join him. You sat on the other end of the sofa, gently, looking over at him. He threw an arm over the back of the couch, kicked his feet out in front of him, and turned his body towards yours. Dodger watched you sit down and looked at you, almost saying “you’re in my spot,” before turning around and going over to his bed by the fireplace.

“How’re your feet doing now?” he asked you.

“They’re okay, it may take a few days to recover,” you laughed back, turning to face him as well. You held your mug in one hand, bringing the other to your foot as you swung your legs up at your side.

Chris reached over towards your feet, pulling them into his lap, “here let me,” he spoke.

You blushed lightly at the very domestic action, but who would say no to a beautiful man rubbing their feet? He massaged them gently and you let out a little groan.

“You really don’t have to do that, but you’re so good at it I don’t want you to stop,” you told him.

“Well then I won’t stop, darlin’.”

He looked at you from across the couch, making your heart swoon again. You let out the quietest moan, enjoying the work of his hands, and closed your eyes.

Chris laughed lightly, whispering something to himself under his breath. You were a little lost in the moment, so you didn’t hear him.

“Sorry, what was that?” you asked him.

“Oh, nothing, just talking to myself,” he answered. You knew that wasn’t the case, but let it rest anyway; it couldn’t have been too important.

Chris started asking you about your work and friends and family, what kind of movies you liked, and music preference of course. You asked him as well, really getting to know each other. He had stopped rubbing your feet a long time ago, but kept them in his lap, an arm thrown across them, rubbing your shins and ankles lightly. Dodger was snoring loudly across the room, and had been for quite a long time. The both of you were so lost in the conversation, that you didn’t realize how late it had gotten. You glanced out the window behind him, beginning to see the sunrise.

“Oh my goodness, what time is it?” you asked him, chuckling.

He glanced at his phone quickly, “almost 5:00,” he said with wide eyes, “I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said a little embarrassed, “I’ve stayed way too long, I’ll just get out of your hair.” You began to pull your legs out of his lap, but he locked them down.

“You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to,” he spoke quietly, “I’ve really enjoyed your company.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to overstay my welcome…” you trailed off.

“Positive, sweetheart. Please, stay.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” you asked him, raising an eyebrow. He nodded slightly at you. “Then I'll stay,” you said, settling back into the couch.

“Can I get you another cup?” he asked, gesturing to your mug.

“Sure,” you answered lightly, handing it to him. He got up and trailed into the kitchen. You waited half a second before following him.

Chris heard you walk into the kitchen, turning around to look at you quickly, “sorry, can I get you something else?”

“No, I’m fine,” you answered.

“Oh, well, uh… I would’ve brought your mug back to you,” he chuckled.

“Oh that’s okay, I felt weird just sitting there,” you laughed lightly.

“Oh, okay,” he chuckled back, “well, since you’re here now, can I offer you breakfast?”

You didn’t realize how hungry you’d gotten until he offered, “only if I can help,” you responded.

“Oh well, that’s a deal breaker, darlin’,” he answered, almost seductively.

“Well then no breakfast for me,” you laughed.

He was starving too, only having had a small dinner before he went to the bar last night. He didn’t know when you’d eaten last, so you must be hungry as well.

“Well, maybe there is one way, you can help,” he said in a high pitched voice.

“What can I do?” you asked quickly.

“Come here,” he said.

You walked around the island you had been leaning on, joining him between it and the cabinets on the wall. Chris extended a hand towards you. You took it quickly and allowed him to guide you closer to him. Once you were fully in front of him, he dropped your hand and grabbed both of your hips. He picked you up quickly, surprising you, before setting you on the counter.

You laughed lightly at him, “okay, now what?”

“Now, you sit there and look pretty while I make breakfast,” he chuckled out, standing between your knees, keeping a little distance between the two of you.

“Chrissssss,” you whine out at him.

“What, doll?” he asks, taking a step closer to you as you wrap your hands around his shoulders.

“I can do more than just sit here.”

“Oh, really?” he asks, taking another step towards you, now standing between your thighs, almost flush to the counter.

“Yeah, I can,” you breathe out, barely able to contain yourself now that he’s slotted between your legs.

“Nope, darlin’, this is enough help. Promise,” he says quietly.

Chris glanced down at your lips quickly before looking back into your eyes. He ran his hands up your thighs, starting at your knees, before settling onto your hips again. The temperature in the room seemed to rise at an unbelievable rate as you stared into each others’ eyes. You could feel his breath on your lips, you were sure he could feel yours as well, the smell of coffee and peppermint radiated between you. He slowly leaned in and connected your lips.

It was like time stood still. He moved one of his hands around to your lower back, pulling your body to the very edge of the counter and flush against his chest. The other hand stayed firmly on your hip, digging in just a little. You wrapped your arms around his neck even tighter as you molded your lips together. He licked your bottom lip slightly, asking for entrance, which you granted. He explored your mouth just a little bit before pulling back, breathless, and resting his forehead against yours.

“Well, that was, uh…” he spoke.

“Yeah,” you answered, breathless as well.

You held his gaze for another second before moving forward and kissing him once again. You pecked him sweetly, before mumbling against his lips.

“I’ll let you cook, as long as you let me clean up,” you laughed a little before connecting your lips again.

Chris let the kiss hang just a little longer than a peck before pulling back completely. He pecked your forehead quickly, before answering.

“No,” he said firmly, turning around and letting out a loud laugh, one you knew so well.

You laughed right back at him, watching him start to cook and shaking your head to yourself. How did you get so lucky?

[queenxxxsupreme]

A Soft Heart, A Sweet Soul

A/N: Honestly couldn’t tell you where this came from. It started off as an idea of Kieran coming to Arthur and reader for advice on how to talk to Mary-Beth because I absolutely adore Kieran and Mary-Beth but then it ended up turning into some camp shenanigans and well.... this happened??? This takes place at Horseshoe Overlook.

Warnings: none, this is pure fluff and camp shenanigans

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Kieran comes to you and Arthur for dating advice. 

**gif isnt mine**

“What’re ya workin’ on?” 

You tore your eyes away from the article of clothing in your hands to watch Arthur. He pulled up a chair just across from you and took out a cigarette.

“Just patching up some clothes. A fella I know likes to go around gettin’ into bar fights and scraps with a whole bunch of wild animals. He’s too hard on his clothes.”

He grunted as he lit the cigarette and leaned back in his seat. 

“I ain’t that hard on clothes.”

“I have to patch somethin’ of yours every other day.” You teased, a grin coming to your lips. 

He swatted a hand playfully at you, shaking his head. 

“I don’t believe it.”

“What’s this from, Arthur?” You held the shirt you were currently working on up to show him the hole in the front of the shirt. 

“That one wasn’t even my fault.” Arthur paused for a moment to look around camp, searching for someone. His eyes landed on Charles, who was brushing down Taima at the hitching posts. “That man over there started a fight in Valentine! Didn’t ya, Charles?”

“Charles would do no such thing.” You looked over at Charles, who wore a faint grin but didn’t look in your direction. “You didn’t start that fight, did you?”

“I didn’t start it, but I did finish it.”

“See, Arthur? He’s too nice.”

“Nice my ass.” Arthur muttered with the cigarette between his lips. “Anyways, the fella I was fightin’ tried to stab me but he wasn’t too good with a knife. Only caught the shirt.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll let that one pass since you did a terrible job at blaming Charles for causing it.” You nodded softly, biting your bottom lip to try to hide a grin. 

“Them pants that you have over your lap have a busted out knee.”

“Yeah, I noticed when I was tryin’ to wash them. What did you do?”

“I, uh, I tripped.” Arthur tried to cough to hide what he was saying but just as he spoke Javier was passing by behind him. 

“You what?”

“Shut up, Javier. This don’t involve you.” Arthur waved Javier off but Javier wasn’t giving up so easily. 

“No, no, it does now.” He put one hand on the back of Arthur’s chair. “What happened, Arthur?”

Arthur grunted and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“I tripped goin’ down a hill when I was out.” He shook his head, holding the cigarette between his index and middle finger. “The hills over there in the Grizzlies East are steep. Hosea had me out huntin’ and didn’t warn me that it was so steep. And the rocks were loose under my boots and it all happened so fast-,”

“Poor baby.” You frowned, trying your best to not laugh. Javier didn’t shy away from laughing at him though as he moved away from you, throwing his head back and holding his stomach. The other few people around you, including Charles, Karen, and Hosea, also laughed. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Arthur took a drag from the cigarette. “Laugh at me and my clumsiness.”

You reached over to pat his knee

A comfortable silence seemed to fall over camp. It was rare and peaceful. It was one of those evenings where little was happening. The sun was going down behind the trees and many of the lamps around camp were starting to be turned on. 

Arthur was home before dark for once, which you were thankful for. You rarely got to spend time with him before it was time for bed. It was nice to be able to sit with him, even if you had little chores to do while you sat there. 

“Thank you for doin’ that for me, pumpkin.” Arthur spoke, keeping his voice low so only you could hear him. He leaned forward in his chair, flicking his cigarette down onto the ground and then stepping on to it. Then he moved his chair a little closer to you so that if he wanted to, he could lean forward and kiss you.

“You’re very welcome, darlin’. You know it’s my pleasure.” You flashed him a smile. “I always love hearin’ all these stories about how you tear up your clothes on your adventures. It’s very amusing knowin’ you’re just like a giant clumsy toddler.”

“Are you gonna give me a hard time all night?” He raised a brow at you, a teasing glint flashing in his brilliant blue eyes.

“Oh, you know that’s my favorite thing to do.” You looked down at the shirt to watch where you were pushing the needle through. “If I didn’t give you a hard time, who else would?”

“There’s plenty of people to give me a hard time ‘round here.”

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught Arthur’s attention. He turned his head to see Kieran making his way towards you two. Arthur let out a small sigh and leaned back in his chair, a little irritated that the peaceful moment between you and him had been interrupted. 

“M’sorry to-to bother you, Mr. Morgan, Ms. Y/L/N. I-I just wanna talk to you for-for a minute, Arthur.” Kieran stopped a few feet away from your chairs.

“Me?” Arthur raised his brows, eyes widening slightly. “Why? You got somethin’ planned, O’Driscoll?”

“Arthur!” You scolded him, reaching over and smacking his arm. 

“Ow!”

“I-I’m sorry to bother y’all.” Kieran turned to walk away, shaking his head.

“Kieran, don’t let Arthur’s bad manners scare you away.” You glared at Arthur before bringing your attention to Kieran. “Is it something I could help you with?” 

Arthur ran a hand over his face, knowing very well you’d get after him later for his behavior. 

Kieran didn’t say anything at first. He nervously messed with his hands and looked off to the side. 

You followed his gaze, eyes landing on Mary-Beth. 

“I-I just…. M’not too sure how to, uh, to talk to her, is all.” He spoke quietly. He looked back to you. “I thought maybe since y’all seem like such a nice couple that you might have some good advice you could give. I just don’t-don’t wanna mess nothin’ up.”

“Oh, that’s sweet of you, Kieran.” You smiled, then gestured to the empty chair sitting across the table from you. “Have a seat with us.”

Arthur opened his mouthed to object but decided at the last minute to not say anything about Kieran joining you both at the table. 

“Just ‘cause we seem like a nice couple, don’t mean we are.” Arthur shook his head, motioning to you with his thumb. “She’s meaner than hell.”

“I’m the one sewing the holes you leave behind in your clothes, Mr. Morgan.” You reminded him, a little smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “Once they’re patched up, I’ll sell your clothes in Valentine. Make a decent penny, and buy myself something nice.” 

“That’s a damn good idea.” Arthur chuckled, rubbing his scruffy jaw.

“Now shut up and listen so we can help the kid out.” You put the clothes in your lap on to the table so you could give Kieran your full attention. “Have you tried talking to her at all yet, Kieran?”

Just as Kieran was about to answer, Sean came over to the table. 

“Why do you lot look so dead? Swear there’s more life in a cemetery.”

Your eyes met Arthur’s and he let out a sigh, knowing he’d have to be the one to make the sacrifice and draw Sean away.

“Hey, Sean?” He stood to his feet. “Come with me a second, buddy.” 

“Sure thing, Arthur!”

“Have you tried talking to her, Kieran?” You repeated your question.

“Yeah, a little.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But it seems…. It-It just don’t feel like it’s goin’ nowhere. It feels like I-Ikeep messin’ up. I just don’t know what to say and-and it’s hard talkin’ to pretty girls. I-I get all nervous and stumble all over my words.”

“Just remember that she’s a person too. It’s okay to be nervous and to mess up with your words. She’s a really sweet girl, Kieran. She won’t think anything of it as long as you’re nice.”

“You think so?”

You nodded your head.

“You should’ve seen Arthur when he and I first started talking.” Your eyes found Arthur. He’d taken Sean across camp and distracted him with something. “He’s not the big brute he likes to make everyone think he is. He’s a sweet man with a big heart. The first time he ever took me out somewhere, he spilt whiskey all over me.”

“Did he really?” Kieran chuckled. “And-And you still talked to him after that?”

“Of course I did. It was an accident. He’s never done anything to hurt me.” You brought your attention back to Kieran. “You’re a good kid, Kieran. All of us here can see that. I’m positive Mary-Beth can see it too.”

“I hope so.” Kieran turned his head to look in her direction. “She’s really nice, Y/N.”

“She is a sweet girl.” You agreed.

“Thank you for talkin’ with me, Y/N.”

“Anytime, Kieran.” You gave him a smile and watched him leave. 

You went back to working on Arthur’s clothes. A little while later, Arthur returned to his seat. 

“That kid needs an off button.” He muttered, glancing over to Sean. “How did talkin’ with Kieran go?”

“Good.” You looked up at Arthur through your lashes. “I told him about how you spilt whiskey on me that time you took me to that dusty old saloon in Montana.”

Arthur groaned.

“Now why would you do that?”

“Because it made him feel better about being so nervous around Mary-Beth.”

Arthur fell silent for a few moments, his eyes finding Kieran and Mary-Beth. The two were sitting near each other chatting quietly. You looked over your shoulder to see what he was looking at. 

“You think they’d be good together? You don’t think he’d….?”

“You’ve got to stop calling him an O’Driscoll, Arthur.” You looked at Arthur then back down to his clothes. “He’s one of us. He saved your life, you know.”

“I know.” Arthur let out a heavy breath. “Just…. Just don’t like it.”

“He’s not like them.” You finished the last stitch on the shirt and tied it off. “You can see it in his eyes, and in the way he interacts with everyone around here. He’s sweet. He just didn’t have the right start at life. Didn’t have the right people around him.”

“Sounds like you’re gettin’ soft on him.”

You rolled your eyes and threw the shirt at Arthur, hitting him in the face with it. 

“You can be such a horse’s ass sometimes, Arthur Morgan.” You stood up and started to move away from the table but Arthur’s hand caught your wrist. 

“I’m just teasin’ you, Y/N.” He put the shirt on the table and then tugged you over to stand between his knees. “Just don’t understand why you’re so keen on helpin’ him. You’re never this nice.”

“I am a very nice person.” You looked down at him, bringing your hands up to cup either side of his face. Your thumb brushed along his cheekbones. 

On his right cheek, there was a faint white line that cut just an inch or so beneath his eye. You focused on that for a few moments. 

“I know a fella that a lot of people think is hard and mean.” You whispered. “Many people wouldn’t think that he likes it when I brush my fingers through his hair at night. Or that when he can’t sleep, he likes to put his head in my lap and listen to me read.”

You were thankful that the sun had finally gone down all the way and that most of the gang was gathered around two of the fires on the other side of camp. They wouldn’t be able to interrupt or witness your moment with Arthur, who very rarely liked any sort of public displays of affection. The ones who did witness it were Mrs. Grimshaw, who had been doing her mother hen rounds to check and make sure everything was in line, and John, who was keeping patrol just outside of camp. Grimshaw pretended to not see anything as she kept walking, humming to herself with a cigarette between her fingers. John smiled a little. It made him happy that someone made Arthur so soft. 

“Who is this fella?” Arthur asked, his voice low and a little raspy. His eyes shut for a moment as you leaned forward to kiss his brow. He settled his hands around your hips, just holding you where you stood between his legs. “Might have to fight him.”

“Silly man.” You giggled softly, running your fingers back through his hair. “I’m a good judge of character, Arthur. Have a little faith in me.”

You started to step away from him. As your touch left him, his hand found yours and he stood up so he could pull you into his arms. 

“I have faith in you. It’s the O’Driscoll I don’t trust.” 

“I’m gonna start keeping count of every time you call him that and there’s gonna be consequences.” You squeezed Arthur’s fingers. 

“What kinda consequences?” A grin tugged at the corner of his lips. 

“Ones you won’t like.” You pulled your hand from his and looked around camp. 

Mary-Beth was sitting on her bedroll reading by a lamp. Kieran was brushing down his horse just outside of camp. 

“I’m not saying you have to be friends with him, Arthur.” You turned your attention to him as he stood from his chair. “Just stop callin’ him an O’Driscoll.”

He let out a rather exaggerated sigh and ran a hand over his face.

“If it makes you happy-,”

“It would make me very happy.” 

Arthur narrowed his eyes at you. You innocently smiled. 

“You drive me crazy, woman.” He put his arm around you and started to guide you towards your shared tent. 

“You know you wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Of course not.” He kissed your cheek. “I like the crazy.”

“Did Charles really start that fight in Valentine?”

Taglist: @winterwolf @doggone-cowgirl

If you’d like to be on my taglist, please go here! If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

[luvksj]

Undisputed Era: Pay the Price

author’s note: hello, this is part two of my undisputed era smut and please be aware, i’ve never written smut before so... i’m going off what i know so don’t come for me if it doesn’t sound right. 

it’s a bit weird to be writing smut because i don’t really know how to write sexy stuff so... excuse me if this story turns out to be absolute cringe. for the record, it’s basically you giving them a blowjob.

enjoy the story and apologizes for any mistakes!

plot: you did this and now you must pay the price for your actions.

warning: this story contains NSFW, explicit sexual content that may not be suitable for some readers

“They get punished.” 

Adam’s smirk turned sinister, he wasted no time in attacking your neck viciously, leaving purple swollen marks behind as a sign of ownership. Curling your hands into fist, it became challenging to prevent a moan and despite Adam’s best efforts, you prevailed. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, clenching your teeth, holding your breath, and your fists became tighter as you didn’t want him to gain satisfaction. But this only annoyed him, “Okay, have it your way.” Adam shrugged before yanking the zipper down, exposing your breasts and caressed them.

Shaking, you let out a gasp allowing Adam to insert his tongue inside your mouth. The pleasure became overwhelming and you almost gave in but Kyle thankfully interrupted Adam, allowing you to breath a little, sinking down to the floor. 

“Come on dude, stop hogging her.” Kyle complained, ignoring Adam’s annoyed glare.

The other members mumbled in agreement, Adam stares at your disheveled figure and back at the others who eagerly eyed the chance at being pleasured.

Grabbing the hood of the jumper, Adam drags you towards the others who watch your every movement intently. Crouching beside your right ear, he whispers, “Listen Y/N, you’ll pleasure each of us one by one and obey our every commands otherwise there will be a price to pay so... don’t collect too much debt.” he teases.

You could feel his smirk as he continued talking, “Whatever we want, you must do. Now be a good girl and start with Roderick.” Adam points towards him who motions you over with his index finger. 

Crawling over, you take a deep breath and look him in the eyes, “Suck me off.” he commands while removing his jeans, shoes, and boxers revealing his mate which excitedly greets you. “... please spread for me.” you timidly ask and Roderick stretches his legs wider, giving you more room.

Staring at it, you start slowly licking it like a lollipop. Slow, teasing licks up and down his mate making him shiver in pleasure, each time, your tongue grazes past the tip, “Stop teasing.” Roderick scolds and you start taking him in. 

Placing your hands on his inner thighs for support, you start increasing the pace, hungrier licks stroke his mate, nibbling desperately as he throws his back in overwhelming euphoria. Your tongue assaulted him, it was merciless, “GOD FUCK! RIGHT THERE!!” he exclaimed.

Bucking his hips wildly, you struggle to keep up with his alarming pace, the tip of his mate slapping the back of your throat violently. Bouncing, your scream made it vibrate and he grabbed a handful of your hair, tugging it harshly making you scream even more. “I’M--” Roderick didn’t even finish his sentence as he released. 

Releasing with a ‘pop’, you cleaned him up before moving onto Kyle, who was already prepared. “Suck me off as well.” he instructed and you nodded. Looking at his mate, it was already hardened and you could tell he was touching himself during your session with Roderick. 

Laying on the sofa, you climb up as he spreads his legs out to give you full access. Staring lustfully, you stroke it with your skilled hands, brushing past his tip teasingly making Kyle growl, “Stop it.” his voice commanding. Eyeing him, you lick his tip before diving in.

Coating his mate your saliva, you suck him, drenching him in your saliva. Curling your tongue around his mate and letting go with your tongue grazing his member, Kyle grabs your hair, yanking it angrily, “Stop. It.” he frustratingly said.

Couple more long licks before nearly planting your face into his area when taking him in, positioning your hands on his inner thighs for support, you start bouncing. Your tongue continues it magic while Kyle grunts, closing his eyes, enjoying the experience.

He starts bucking his hips, continuously slamming the tip of his mate against the back wall of your throat making you gag. “FASTER! FASTER!” Kyle yells, increasing his pace and you fumble to catch up, he finally lets go and overfills your mouth with his seeds.

Dribbling out, you force it down your throat, giving him a wavering smile. “Good girl.” he pats your cheek. Bobby was next and you didn’t want anyone to know that you were secretly looking forward to this because he was your favorite one amongst the members.

Bobby chuckles, able to see the excitement in your eyes, “I’ll let you have your pick, sweetheart.” he informs and spreads himself out for your eyes. Travelling your eyes down his god-like sculpted body, you had no idea where to start. 

Climbing onto his lap, you start sucking his lips off, squishing his face between your hands. Bobby stumbles back, slightly surprised by your actions, he eventually regains himself and responds back, matching your eagerness. 

While distracting him with your flurry of kisses, you start grinding against his clothed mate whose desperate to touch your needy pussy. Bobby pushes you off, flings his jeans, shoes, and boxers off hurriedly, his mate shoots up, happy to be freed from his restraints. 

Pushing him down, you spread his legs further apart and attack. Your licks were rougher, hungrier and more desperate as he groans, throwing his head back in happiness. Saliva dripped when you released, breathing in some air. “Well I guess we know whose her favorite.” Roderick said making you blush.

“I mean... she’s got taste, fellas.” Bobby responded.

Blushing, you hear Adam’s cough, “You’re not done yet, sweetheart.” Sighing, you reluctantly pull yourself from Bobby’s embrace and limp towards  Adam. “Kneel.” he demanded, cautiously lowering yourself in front of him. 

Staring directly at his member, it was hard not to be turned on, it was physically fighting with his black skinny jeans to be freed. “Do your thing... darling.” Adam instructed as you scan his sculpted figure, quickly trying to figure out where to begin. 

Leaning forward, you take the zipper of his fly between your teeth and slowly pull it down, his member leaps forward and whacks you in the forward making you jump slightly.

Undoing the button, Adam kicks his shoes off and you pull down both his boxers and jeans with your teeth leaving him completely exposed. Even though, your body was aching, it still turned you on and without hesitation, you started doing your thing.

Starting off with slow licks, you curl your tongue around his member in such a way, it makes him howl with pleasure. “Fuck!” he curses, throwing his head back. Smirking, you continue licking his member like a lollipop and ever-so-carefully graze his tip making him shiver.

Taking ahold, you relentlessly lick his tip with such passion and lust, Adam’s howls of pleasure increase. Once you can see his seed starting to leak, you take him in whole without waiting for him, “GOD DAMN Y/N!” Adam yells. 

Your saliva coating his member as you continue to suck, nibble and lick hungrily on his member like you haven’t eaten in over a week. His member bangs like a drum against the back of your neck as Adam bucks his hips wildly to increase the pleasure. 

“I’M ALMOST THERE! I’M ALMOST--”

He doesn’t even finish his sentence as his seed floods your mouth, “Swallow it.” Adam commands and with much difficulty, you do. The exhaustion hits you like a ton of bricks, collapsing against his legs, catching your breath, the other members start praising your performance.

Their words become incoherent to you as your eyes start falling, the heaviness overpowering everything else. Someone picks you up, you don’t know who it is and frankly, right now, you don’t care-- you’re too tried to. “Go to sleep, Y/N.” he whispers but you don’t hear that as your are already asleep on his shoulder.

Waking up, you were inside a hotel room, still in your clothes and looked around, holding your head in absolute pain. “What happened last night...” you trailed off as you saw Bobby Fish sleeping right beside you. 

Of course, the first thing anyone would do is scream but the events of yesterday suddenly invaded your mind and you blushed, remembering the difference between the sessions you gave the other members vs Bobby. 

He must of been the one who took you here... and carried you.

From the corner of your eye, you saw your keys and belongings were (thankfully) on top of the small bedside cabinet beside you. With much difficulty, you got up and wrapped Bobby’s oversized ‘Undisputed Era’ jumper around your petite figure, you venture out to the hotel buffet.

Eating breakfast, you surprisingly didn’t run into any of the members. Heading back to your hotel room, flinging open the door to reveal them sitting patiently inside the tiny living room looking at you. “What’s going on?” you question, closing the door. 

“Where did you go?” Kyle asked. 

“The buffet... to eat breakfast.” you responded truthfully. 

They chuckle, making you confused, Roderick stands up and in a flash, pins you against the wall. “Baby... if you were hungry, you could of just said so.” he teases making your cheeks bright red. 

Tossing you onto the bed, they encase you, preventing you from escaping. Crawling towards you in different direction and hover over your body, making your heart beat rapidly and a heat begins pooling inside your stomach.

“It’s time for us to... return the favor, isn’t that right boys?” Adam says and the others nod in agreement making you blush even harder.

And they attacked, rendering you useless for the next few days. 

hope it’s good, sorry for not updating in a while... been busy !!!

[swan-of-sunrise]

Taking Care of Business (Chapter Six)

Summary: The trio makes their way back to Mos Eisley, and Din begins to realize how much his new partner really means to him.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Kind of a filler/random chapter that I’m not too sure about, but I wanted to sprinkle in a bit of fluff before we get into the next big adventure lol I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Six The Medic (Previous Chapter)

After helping the Tuskens and the villagers gather up their weapons and supplies, Din and (Y/N) began preparing their speeder bike for the trip back to Mos Eisley. The Tuskens had gifted them a large chunk of the creature’s meat and while they continued harvesting the rest of its carcass, he and the captain wrestled the heavy meat onto the back of the bike; the child watched them work with widened eyes, and Din grinned in amusement when he realized how eager he was to eat it.

Din glanced up from their work as Cobb walked up to them, the Mandalorian armor packaged up in his arms. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to explain.”

“No need.” The marshal placed the bundle of armor onto the seat of the speeder before handing him the helmet, a smile of respect on his weathered face. “This was well-earned.”

“It was my pleasure.” He spoke truthfully, shaking Cobb’s outstretched hand; through their adventure together, he’d grown to admire the marshal and considered it an honor to have fought by his side. Well, mostly admire, he thought to himself, recalling how the charming man had flirted so easily with his partner.

Letting go of his hand, Cobb turned to (Y/N) with a lopsided grin. “Well, if you ever get tired of hangin’ ‘round this fella, princess, you know where to find me.”

Din felt a sudden surge of jealousy. The captain didn’t appear to be romantically interested in the ruggedly-handsome Marshal of Mos Pelgo, but it didn’t stop Din from envying the man for the effortless way he made her smile.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, but…” (Y/N) looked over at Din with a glimmer of admiration in her eyes that nearly made him blush. “I think I’m right where I’m meant to be.”

Cobb shrugged good-naturedly and shook her hand. “Princess, you sure are somethin’.” He winked at her before looking between her and Din. “Well, this was fun. I hope our paths cross again, you two.”

“As do I.”

The marshal turned to walk away but halted, gesturing over to the Mandalorian armor with a smirk. “Oh, and tell your people I wasn’t the one that broke that.”

Once Cobb made his way over to where his villagers stood, Din glanced over at (Y/N) as she wrapped her cowl around her shoulders. “Feel up to driving, alor’ad?”

“I always am.” With a grin, she pulled on her goggles and secured the child in his satchel before carefully climbing onto the packed speeder bike. “Ready to go, partner?”

With a nod, Din seated himself behind her and placed his hands on either side of her waist as she revved the speeder’s engine and shot forward, starting out back across the Dune Sea with the twin suns high above them. They had originally planned on traveling the entire way back to Mos Eisley without stopping but as the suns began to set, Din reconsidered the plan; his body was aching all over and he knew that (Y/N)’s leg was injured, so he ultimately decided that their best course of action was to camp out for the night and travel at first light.

The captain readily agreed to his new plan and stopped the speeder bike near a small outcropping of rocks, keeping an eye on the child as Din set up their camp. He watched the two of them out of the corner of his eye while he worked, biting back an amused chuckle whenever he caught a snippet of (Y/N)’s words; she spoke to the child as if he were an adult, perhaps because she wasn’t used to dealing with small children, but it was entertaining to listen to her partake in an almost one-sided conversation with the babbling child.

“How’s your leg?” Din asked later on that evening, after they’d put the child to sleep in his satchel; he and (Y/N) were sitting beside the campfire and he noticed that she’d been absentmindedly rubbing her calf as they talked. “I saw you limping back there.”

“Oh, yeah, I think I might’ve landed on it weird when Vanth and I fell out of the sky.” She stretched out her right leg and flexed it, trying and failing to mask her wince of pain behind a smile. “It feels…okay.”

Giving his head a small shake, Din gestured to her leg with a gloved hand. “May I?” With a small sigh of defeat, she nodded and leaned back on her elbows as he carefully rolled up her trouser leg. He could tell even through his helmet’s visor that the captain’s calf muscle was cramped, the theory only confirmed when he hovered a hand over the bulge and felt the slight warmth radiating off of it through the leather of his glove. “Yep, your muscle cramped up, probably due to the shock of the impact. There’s not much a person can do to speed up its healing, unfortunately, but…” He cleared his throat, his hands beginning to sweat nervously underneath his gloves. “But I can make it feel a little better…”

“O-okay. Thank you, Mando.” Her kind smile faltered a bit once he tentatively began rubbing his thumbs down on the spot. “I guess I should add ‘medic’ to your ever-growing list of impressive skills, right alongside ‘Tusken Translator’ and ‘Diplomat.’” Din scoffed and she lightly kicked his armored thigh with her other foot. “I’m serious! The way you got those two groups to set aside their differences and work together was amazing, Mando, and you should be proud of yourself.”

Din felt his face warm at (Y/N)’s praise, and he was thankful that she couldn’t see just how flustered her words made him; feeling overwhelmed, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “You know, there’s no Mando’a word for ‘diplomat;’ ‘translator’ is miit’amyc and ‘medic’ is baar’ur, but there’s no word in that language that directly translates ‘diplomat.’ The closest would be naak, which means ‘peace.’” He looked up from his work to meet (Y/N)’s stunned expression, suddenly feeling self-conscious under her gaze. “I’m rambling, sorry-”

“No, no, it’s okay! You’re actually doing a great job at distracting me from the pain, baar’ur,” She joked, biting back a wince as he continued massaging the muscle. “How do you say ‘bounty hunter’ in Mando’a?”

“Beroya.”

“What about ‘smuggler’?”

He paused for a moment. “Mir'sheb.”

(Y/N) smiled. “So, you’re a beroya and I’m a mir’sheb.” At her statement Din burst into laughter, unable to hold it in any longer and she merely raised a confused brow. “What, did I pronounce it wrong?”

“Mir’sheb...mir’sheb means ‘smart-ass’...”

His chuckles continued as she threw him a withering glare and the corners of her lips curled into a reluctant grin. “Just for that, I’m gonna find a language you don’t know and learn to speak it just so I can call you names all the time.”

Their laughter died down and they sat in comfortable silence as Din massaged her cramped muscle. With one particularly hard rub, (Y/N)’s eyes squeezed shut in pain, she blurted out, “It’s kinda silly, isn’t it? You purposefully get swallowed by a kriffing krayt dragon yet I’m the one with the stupid injury.”

Din frowned in guilt, remembering the expression on the captain’s face when he’d flown out of the creature’s mouth; it had been an equal mixture of shock and anger, the latter nearly disguised by her trademark grin. “I’m sorry, alor’ad.”

“It’s okay, it’s already feeling a little bit better-”

“That’s not what I was talking about.” He interrupted. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about my plan; we’re partners now, and I didn’t treat you as my partner back there.”

Blinking her eyes open, (Y/N) looked at him with a patient expression on her face. “I understand, Mando, there wasn’t enough time. I was…I was just worried about you, that’s all.” Din stopped massaging the muscle and she gave her leg an experimental flex. “Oh, that feels great! Did you want to take first watch or should I?”

“I will,” He quickly answered, averting his gaze as she bent over to roll down her trouser leg. “You get some rest.”

(Y/N) bid him goodnight and crawled into the bedroll beside the child, her breathing evening out as she quickly fell asleep. Once Din was sure that the captain was unconscious, he began taking off pieces of his armor and tending to his many injuries; since they were only darkening bruises, he couldn’t really do anything except examine them and check for any broken skin before strapping his armor back on over them. He finished his work quickly, wincing in pain as he straightened his back and rolled his shoulders.

“Dinner time.” Din mumbled under his breath, reaching over and grabbing a ration pack from his bag. He made swift work of opening it up, since he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten, and just as he was about to lift the bottom of his helmet up over his mouth, he hesitated; glancing over at his partner and the child, he made the split-second decision of removing the entire helmet.

As the cool desert breeze blew over his warm skin, Din’s eyes widened in shock at his own recklessness, but his shock was soon replaced by wonder when his gaze drifted back to the captain. With his own eyes he was finally able to admire all those features he’d noticed the moment he met her, taking note of the softness of her skin and the way the corner of her lip curved up while she slept; the breeze had blown some of her hair onto her face and for the briefest of seconds, he’d been tempted to reach over and brush it behind her ear. Kandosii’la. But common sense finally returned and he gave his head a small shake before quickly eating his food and securing his helmet back on, purposefully looking anywhere but her as he continued his watch.

It wasn’t just (Y/N)’s beauty that had taken him aback that evening. Din wasn’t used to having someone around who worried for his safety; when she’d wished him luck before their first mission together, he figured she was only being polite, but now he knew that she genuinely cared about his well-being. Cobb Vanth was right back there, Din thought to himself as his face flushed, his partner really was something.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Din allowed (Y/N) to drive the speeder bike, partly because his body was still sore from the previous day’s excitement and partly because he secretly enjoyed the feel of his gloved hands on the curve of her waist. As they sped across the Dune Sea, thoughts of their quest intruded on his mind and he inwardly sighed; they hadn’t found a Mandalorian on Tatooine, which meant that they were virtually back at square one.

Preoccupied with planning their next move, Din didn’t spot the trip wire until it was too late; they were instantly ejected off the speeder, the child crying out in shock as they flew through the air. Din twisted in midair, hastily bringing a hand up to his vambrace and igniting his jetpack so that he could land on his feet. He stumbled backwards and dodged the burning speeder as it flew past him and crashed onto the sand in the distance, turning to see where (Y/N) and the child had landed just as blaster bolts hit his shoulder and helmet. Grunting, Din stumbled back some more and heard a gruff voice call out, “Get the child!”

Another shot hit his shoulder and he quickly realized that he was being cornered by four figures, pulling out his blaster to shoot one of them but missing his mark when another attacker slammed down on his weapon with a sword. He dropped the blaster but was quick to defend himself, managing to disarm his attacker and hit him in the head; two attackers pinned him up against the rocks and he couldn’t do much but hold his arms up to defend against their blows until he spotted the fourth attacker beginning to aim a rifle blaster at him. He quickly fired his grappling hook and watched as it wrapped around the weapon, tugging it hard and ducking down to let the weapon hit both his attackers in the heads. They fell to the ground and he stood but froze when he saw that the fourth attacker was holding the child in one arm and a knife in the other.

“Wait!” Din held his hands up, his heart clenching as he took in the child’s widened eyes. “Don’t hurt the child. If you put one mark on him there’s no place you’ll be able to hide from me.” The attacker didn’t move, but he was suddenly aware of a familiar presence nearby; to distract the attacker, he gestured towards the speeder wreck in the distance. “We can strike a bargain. There’s a lot of value in this wreckage; take your pick. But leave him.”

The attacker suddenly gestured towards Din’s left with his knife, speaking angrily in his unknown language and pointing it back at the child in his arms. He turned his head a little to watch (Y/N) reluctantly lower her blaster and toss it off to the side, looking back at the attacker and sighing when he realized just what the attacker wanted.

“Okay.” Din slowly reached behind him and detached his jetpack, taking a step forward and placing it gently on the ground before backing away. “Here, it’s yours. Take it. It’s okay.” He heard (Y/N) make a sound of protest and he held a hand out to quiet her as the attacker set the child down; he grabbed the jetpack and immediately ran off with it, but all of Din’s attention was on the child as he hobbled towards him with a distressed cry; he bent down and picked the child up, examining him for any injuries. “You okay?” The child cooed and looked over at (Y/N) as she hurried over and Din turned his attention to the fleeing attacker; bringing his hand up to his vambrace, he launched the jetpack high up in the air and all three of them watched as the attacker plummeted to the ground.

The child let out a snort of amusement in his arms and Din could hear the smile in (Y/N)’s voice when she quipped, “I guess the rumors were true: ex-bounty hunters really do have a flair for dramatics.”

“Says the woman who’s from Naboo, probably the most theatrical planet in the galaxy.” Din joked, his eyes still on the jetpack as he piloted it to land on the ground before them. His smirk faded when he looked over at (Y/N), finally taking note of her split lip and bruised neck. “Dank farrik, what happened to you?”

“I got in the way of a Nikto and his target.” She winced a little as she tried and failed to grin. “He was going after you while you were dealing with that first guy and I tried stopping him, but…well, I told you that I wasn’t the greatest at hand-to-hand combat.”

“Then that settles it; I’ll start training you as soon as we get into hyperspace.” Din vowed, his heart clenching as the captain nodded and shot him a grateful look. “Looks like we’re gonna have to walk the rest of the way to Mos Eisley, though…”

After fashioning a makeshift yolk out of scraps and a small argument with (Y/N) about sharing the load, they began their long walk out of the Dune Sea; Din was carrying the Mandalorian armor and the krayt dragon meat, and (Y/N) had slung the child’s satchel over her shoulders and was carrying the rest of their supplies in an improvised backpack. Theirs was a completely equal partnership, she’d reminded him with a brow raised in challenge, leaving no room for further argument.

While Din admired her strength and determination, he also worried about her slight limp and the injuries she’d sustained in their skirmish with the bandits so to distract himself from their current situation, he began asking (Y/N) questions about herself. He kept their conversation light, asking about her favorite things and listening to her answers with interest; she was fairly easy to talk to, unlike most people he came across, and it was almost a little strange just how closely she listened to him talk about his own life. And he knew that it wasn’t because she was feigning interest; she seemed to genuinely care about what he had to say, and that was something he wasn’t really used to seeing in another person.

“Have you ever tried uj’alayi?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “No, what’s that?”

“It’s a kind of cake, made with ground nuts, syrup and spices. It was my favorite food as a kid, and my…my mother would bake it once every month.” Din smiled a little at the memory before glancing over at the captain. “Don’t they have sweets on Naboo?”

“Yeah, but they’re really rich and filling; they definitely aren’t as tasty as how uj’alayi sounds.” They walked up a sandy dune and stopped at the top. Din was silently relieved when the city of Mos Eisley finally came into view, although a part of him wished their conversation could’ve gone on longer; I’m gonna find her some uj’alayi at the next market we visit, he silently vowed to himself as she exclaimed, “Maker, I’ve never been so happy to see a Tatooine city in all my life!”

“Really? As an ex-smuggler, I thought you’d love visiting shady dive-planets like Tatooine…”

“I’m gonna kick your ass for that…just as soon as I learn how to.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading!

Mando'a Translations: Alor'ad-Captain Miit’amyc-Translator Baar’ur-Medic Mir’sheb-Smart-ass Kandosii’la-Stunning, Amazing Uj’alayi-Uj Cake

Chapter Seven

Taking Care of Business Masterlist

Tagging: @remmysbounty​ @sinon36​ @seninjakitey​ @thatonedindjarinfan​ @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ @mostclevermiss​ @momc95​ @welcometothepedroverse​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @zukoyonce​ @itsnottilly​

[lets-go-steal-a-hardison]

Good Days and Bad Ones

New Leverage ot3 fic! Warning for gun violence and gun wounds. Fluff then angst then fluff again. ~2.9k words | Teen

Can read below or on my ao3 account here.

It had been a good day.  Eliot should have known not to trust that, but lately, he had been having a lot of good days.  The worst part was that what happened wasn’t even on a job.  They didn’t even see it coming.

Eliot had woken up surrounded by his partners.  The fact that he couldn’t move from being so entangled in their arms and legs should have felt suffocating, but instead, it just felt safe.  He started to move around, wanting to get up and go start his morning routine, and Hardison nuzzled into his neck.

“C’mon man, I gotta get up,” Eliot whispered to him.

Hardison grunted, still mostly asleep, then kissed where he had just nuzzled.  He did relax his arms though.

Okay.  One down.  One more to go.

Eliot turned to look at Parker and saw she was awake, already looking at him.

“I gotta get up, sweetheart, you gonna let me?” he said with a small smile.

Parker was wrapped around his arm with a leg thrown over him.  She pouted a bit, then kissed his shoulder before letting him go.

“Thanks, darlin’.  I’ll make pancakes later, kay?”  

Parker grinned at him.  “With whipped cream?”

“Only if I can add blueberries,” Eliot bargained as he got up and pulled on a shirt.  He had to get her to eat fruit somehow.

“Fiiiiiine,” Parker said, moving into the warmed spot Eliot had just vacated and wrapping around Hardison, who octopused onto her the moment she was in arm’s reach.

Eliot took a moment to stare at them.  Sometimes, he still couldn’t believe that they chose to love him.  Change with him.  It was humbling, their love for him.

He was one lucky bastard.

Eliot did his morning workout, then showered.  By the time that he was going into the bedroom to get clothes, towel around his waist, Parker was up.  She took off Hardison’s old shirt, which she had been using as a pajama shirt, and kissed Eliot one more time before taking the next shift in the shower.  Hardison was still passed out on the bed, but as Eliot walked in, he started to stir.

Letting the towel slip off, Eliot bent over to pull on underwear and heard an appreciative rumble from Hardison.  It took a while for him to be coherent in the morning, unless he had stayed up all night.  That caused a different kind of incoherence.  

Eliot grinned at him from over his shoulder as he continued to get dressed.  “You snooze, you lose,” he teased.  

Hardison let out a sleepy groan, then made grabby hands towards Eliot.

“Hell nah, I’ve got to get started on Parker’s pancakes,” Eliot said, already walking forward anyway.

“Mmmmm… pancakes,” Hardison hummed as he pulled Eliot in.  Eliot could feel his boyfriend’s smile against his lips.  He pulled back and kissed him once more, on the forehead this time, and moved away.

“They’ll be ready in a bit, you just gotta be up for them!” Eliot called as he walked out of the bedroom.

It was a good morning.

It didn’t last.

___________________________________

The first gunshot rang out at 1:12 pm.  Eliot knew because in the moment, everything froze and he took in everything in the kitchen of the brewpub, including the time.

The screams came next.

Eliot immediately put himself in between the doors to the kitchen and the waitstaff and cooks.  “Run.  If you can’t run, hide.  If you can’t hide, fight.  GO!” he said, jerking his head to the back entrance, hoping he wasn’t sending them into a trap.

“ALEC HARDISON!” a voice roared.  “COME OUT, YOU PIECE OF SHIT.”

Eliot felt himself move before he had really thought about it.  He cut across the kitchen and made his way quickly but effectively towards the living part of the brewpub, where he had left Hardison and Parker at their dining room table.

Too late.

Hardison came out of the back room with his hands up and Eliot redirected his attention to the rest of the room, immediately assessing the three men with guns in the middle of the room.  The patrons of the brewpub were cowering in their seats and on the floor.  There was one man by the door too, covering the exit.

It didn’t look good.

“Sinclair,” Hardison drawled.  If Eliot didn’t know Hardison as well as he did, he wouldn’t be able to tell how tense he was.  He kept it hidden in the flex of his back muscles and his hands.

It was a very distinctive flex.

“Haven’t seen you in years.  How you been, man?” Hardison continued, arms still raised.

“Well, prison is a bitch and those anger management classes just didn’t take.  So, here we are,” the man in the front, Sinclair, said as he waved the hand not holding his gun to take in the scene.

“What do you want?” Hardison asked, his face and voice becoming serious.

“Need your help with a job.”

“And you thought coming in guns blazing into my day job was the best way to ask?” Hardison asked derisively.

Sinclair smiled grimly.  “This isn’t asking.  Either you will help me or I will shoot you where you stand.”

Hardison shrugged.  “I’ve got my own crew and while they don’t mind me working freelance, I think they would object to the job conditions.”

“You’re damn right,” Eliot growled, moving into the room.

“Oh hell no,” the guy who was guarding the door said.  “You didn’t say Eliot fucking Spencer was part of the target’s crew.  I’m out.”

He threw open the door and ran out the brewpub.

One down, three to go.

The other two men shifted nervously as Eliot stared them down, looking between them and the man Hardison had called Sinclair.  Eliot didn’t like how steady Sinclair’s aim was at Hardison.

“Fellas.  Now we can either have y’all walk out of here alive, or there’s gonna be a need for body bags.  Which is it gonna be?” Eliot said.

The two men glanced at each other.  One shook his head, but the other one started sliding towards the door.

“Don’t you dare, Clancy, don’t you dare!” Sinclair shouted.

“Man, I got a baby at home.  I just needed the payout, but she needs me more,” the man, Clancy, said.  He turned and was out the door.

Two on two.

Eliot liked those odds.

“You sure you won’t help?” Sinclair asked, and Eliot started edging towards Hardison, ready to move if he needed.  

Suddenly, Sinclair’s gun was pointed at Eliot.

“Not even if I threaten to shoot your buddy here?”

“Whoa.  Now, hey man, you didn’t have to go there.  We had our moment, I said no, and you just had to keep pressing.  They always keep pressing, don’t they, Eliot?”

“Hardison…” Eliot cautioned, cause he knew what Hardison was doing.  He was trying to get himself back in Sinclair’s crosshairs, even though Eliot was much more comfortable being the one with the gun pointed at him.

“Nah, man, I know you’re doing your macho shit right now, and I for one do not appreciate it.  You are trying to kill him just with your glarey eyes and guess what, man?  Doesn’t work.  I know, cause otherwise I would be at least slightly damaged by now.”

“Oh my God, shut UP!” Sinclair said.

He turned.

Eliot jumped.

And Hardison gasped as the bullet hit his shoulder.

Sinclair watched as Hardison stared disbelievingly down at the bloom of blood on his shoulder.  He took a gasping breath of air, then his knees went out.

Eliot caught him before he could hit the ground.

“Put pressure on it, Alec.  Come on, you know the deal,” Eliot encouraged, pressing down himself.  He could sense Sinclair in his peripheral vision, but Hardison was his priority.

“It’s d-d-different wh-when it’s you,” Hardison stuttered.

He was going into shock.  Eliot needed to finish this so that they could get Chicken Parm down here, get him to help Hardison.

Eliot forced himself to take his attention off of Hardison and place it firmly on Sinclair.

He looked disconcerted at the look on Eliot’s face.

Good.

“You lost your chance to walk away when you pulled that trigger,” he said to Sinclair.  He turned to the last man standing, who flinched when their eyes met.  “Last chance for you.”

The man nodded.  Dropped his gun.  Walked out.

“You fucker!” Sinclair said, sighting his gun on Eliot.

Only for Parker to drop down from the ceiling, right on top of him.

The gun still went off, but Eliot was unscathed.  He rushed forward, diving on top of Sinclair who fought tooth and nail to keep his gun in his hands.  Eliot saw Parker crawl across the floor towards the gun the last man had dropped out of the corner of his eyes.

In the moment of distraction, Sinclair’s finger found the trigger and pulled.

Eliot felt the bright burn of the bullet going into his hip, but he just grunted and pulled back a fist, bringing it crashing down onto Sinclair’s temple.

He went limp.

Eliot forced himself to stand.  He turned and Parker nodded to him from where she was standing, gun pointed at Sinclair. 

“I’ve got him, you get Alec,” she said.

Eliot nodded.  He pulled out his phone as he went over to Hardison and put pressure on his wound, making Alec whine, high and full of pain.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, gotta keep pressure on it.  Help’s coming, Alec, just hang on, kay?” he murmured as the phone rang.

“P-parker okay?” Hardison whispered.

“Yeah, she’s-” Eliot glanced over to Parker and froze.  “Parker.”

She looked at him from keeping an eye on Sinclair.  “What?”

“Your leg.”

She followed Eliot's gaze and looked down to her thigh.  The right leg of her sweatpants - actually Eliot was pretty sure those had been his as some point - was soaked with blood.

She looked back at Eliot.  “Huh.”

Then she collapsed.

“SHIT!” Eliot shouted.

“Hello?”

Eliot remembered the phone in his hand.  His head was swimming and he blinked repeatedly to clear it.  “Parm, altercation at the brewpub.  Three GSW’s, Hardison n’ Parker are down.  You need to- to… aw, hell,” he slurred.

Then he fell forward onto Hardison’s chest and the world went black.

_________________________________

Dragging himself out of inky black unconsciousness was one of Eliot’s least favorite things in the world.  It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it sucked.

He was definitely on drugs, cause his brain took way too long to connect to his body.  He was floating a bit even when he realized who he was and started registering his body and surroundings.

He was definitely in a hospital.  The smell, the sounds of the intercom, and the feeling of an IV in his hand were too distinct for him to be anywhere else.

Eliot wasn’t as bad as Nate, but he still wasn’t a fan of hospitals.  The catheter alone was enough to make him wanna punch someone.

Forcing his eyes open, he looked around the room.  There was an empty bed next to him and no one else in the room.  He wanted to jump up and find Hardison and Parker, find out if they were alright, but the ache in his hip made him grimace as he sat up.

He settled for hitting the call button.

“Hello, Mr. Dubois, how are you feeling?” the nurse who came in asked.

“Sore and floaty.  Can we reduce the meds?  I hate this feeling.  Rather have the pain,” Eliot said.

The woman pursed her lips.  “We can, though I will ask you to start taking tylenol in its place, so you still have something in your system.”

Eliot nodded.  “The others at the brewery,” he started, not sure what cover he should be working with, how he should be referring to his partners, “are they alright?”

“The gunman has been taken into custody after getting treatment for his concussion.  The man and woman who were also injured are stable.  I’m sorry, that’s all I can say,” she said, working with the machine next to Eliot. 

He hoped that the floating feeling would leave soon.  He needed to come back to his body, pain or no pain.

“Alright, call if you need to get back on the morphine or if you need assistance with anything else.”

“When can I get up?” Eliot asked.

“We can do a walk around this evening, but we’re leery of moving before in case the stitches are disturbed.  We can take out the catheter at that time as well, as you will be able to get up for bathroom needs at that point.  Sounds okay?”

It didn’t, but Eliot forced himself to nod again.

The nurse had been out of the room for about a minute when Eliot heard something overhead.  He grinned at the ceiling, then frowned.

“Parker, should you be up yet?” he asked.

“The doc said that I could get up to see to my needs, and I needed to check on you,” she said through the vent.

“They meant the bathroom, Parker, not my sorry ass,” Eliot said.

“Yeah, yeah.  How you feeling?” she asked.

“They reduced my meds, but still disconnected a bit.”  He knew she would get what he meant, so he didn’t elaborate.  “Alec okay?”

“Yeah.  He was still sleeping, but his vitals looked good.  He lost the most blood of us, so he’ll probably be in here the longest,” Parker said.

“He’ll love that,” Eliot grumbled, already imagining the havoc that Hardison could produce if left in a hospital bed for any extended period of time.

Of course, he would have to be awake to cause havoc…

Eliot shrugged away the thought, reminded himself that Parker said he was doing well.

“How long you gonna be here?” Eliot asked.

He heard a rustle and imagined that Parker had shrugged.  “Bullet went through and through, just bled a lot.  Once they are sure that it’s closed and healing, I’ll be good to go.  They had to dig the bullet out of your hip,” she said, her voice getting quieter.  “So it might be longer for you.”

“I figured that, darlin’.  It’ll be alright.”  He glared at the grate without any real heat.  “Now get back to your bed and to healing.”

“I’d rather be here with you,” she said, her voice soft.

“That ain’t fair,” Eliot said, staring at the grate.  He felt the ache in his hip and now he had one in his heart.  “You gotta go back, Parker, cause if you’re here, you aren’t getting your meds.  I’m being good and taking mine, you gotta too.”

“Fiiiiine,” Parker said.  “I’ll be back though.”

“I would be worried if you didn’t,” Eliot said.

He didn’t hear her go, but felt when she was gone.

It was going to be a long stay in the hospital.

___________________________________

Hardison had woken up later that evening and Eliot had been able to see him when he was doing his walk around.  Alec was still pretty out of it, but he smiled up at Eliot.

“Knew you would take care of it,” he said, only slurring a bit.

“Get some sleep,” Eliot said, resisting the urge to touch him.  Their cover stories weren’t partners.  

Parker got out of the hospital first.  Eliot missed her voice coming out of the ceiling, but was checked out the next day anyways.  

The brewpub wasn’t the same without Alec around.  Eliot ended up stocking a bunch of the meals that Alec liked in the fridge for when he came home and Parker installed a new security system.  They cleaned the whole back area of the pub they called their home, working in tandem as they washed sheets and clothes, scrubbed down the kitchen and bathroom, and tidied the rest of it.  They didn’t sleep much.

By the time Alec got home, the place was spotless and stocked with orange soda and Eliot’s food.

Hardison eased onto the couch and looked around.  He turned to his partners and grinned.  “You missed me.”

Parker rolled her eyes.  “Course we did, dummy.”

Eliot inclined his head, conceding.  “Maybe.”

“You hungry?” Eliot continued.

“Eliot made all your favorites,” Parker said.  Eliot narrowed his eyes at her, cause he wanted that to be a surprise.

“Did he?” Hardison said, smile turning toward Eliot.  “You know I’d never say no to Eliot’s cooking.  Mind bringing it here?  Have y’all eaten?  Let’s just all eat here, pull up some movie.”

Eliot nodded.  Parker jumped up from where she had been sitting next to Alec, kissing him on the top of his head before she followed Eliot into the kitchen.

They settled in, food and movie at the ready.  They finished eating long before the end of the movie, but their plates lay forgotten on the coffee table as they cuddled as close as their wounds would allow them to.  

Eliot felt sleep come slowly towards him, but didn’t do anything to fight it.  He trusted Parker, and by extension, her security system.  He knew that both Parker and Hardison were safe and healing.  More bad days may come, but they would face them together.

In the arms of his two best friends and loves of his life, he let himself rest.

[thiswasinevitableid]

95. you just witnessed me kill a guy and I have a really, really good reason for it, please don’t call the cops

Sternclay as a super/vigilante au? sfw or nsfw, please!

Here you go! This is NSFW

Content note: this fic contains mentions of murder, serial killers, knives. Brief description of a porn scene with implied dub-con (you can skip from the part where Barclay sees the TV to the next section break). But I included lots of fluff to balance it out.

This is the best hook-up Barclays had in years. Mr. Tall, dark, and handsome has done nothing but compliment him all night, from the fit of his shirt down to his kissing skills. So now that he’s facedown on the bed in this guys brownstone wearing only his boxers, he’s so excited he can barely think.

“Almost ready” a shcck of blinds dropping, “I just need to grab one more thing. Then the fun can start.”

“Can’t wait.” He sighs, shuts his eyes as his date moves across the room. Then the movement stops.

“Who the fu-”

Horrible, sticky warmth spatters the side of his face. Startled, he opens his eyes in time to watch his date fall to the floor, dead. Behind him is a figure in dark clothes with a tactical mask covering his face and a gun with a silencer in his right hand. A figure who has just noticed Barclay is awake.

In five swift, purposeful steps he’s at the bed, and Barclay doesn’t know what to do, whether to bolt for the window or knock the gun away or beg or, or or-

“Are you alright, sir?” The voice coming from the mask is calm and businesslike.

“.........what do you think?” Is the reply his useless brain comes up with.

“You look like you’re in shock. Which is understandable.” A gloved hand touches his face, “shit, I’m sorry, I was hoping none of it would get on you. Here, hold still.” He rifles through a pocket while Barclay’s mind drifts further from his body. Why isn’t he just killing him now? Is this part of some sick game?

“Turn your face this way just a bit” the back of his hand nudges Barclay’s chin, “good, thank you. I’m going to get you cleaned up, once that’s done I need to ask you to stay here until I’m finished cleaning up the scene. And also to not call the authorities for help when I’m out of the room.”

“Why?” Nope, okay, that’s it, that’s the reply that gets him shot.

“For one, you’re not in any danger from me. You were in danger from the now-deceased Mr. Martin, which is why I killed him.”

“I, uh, h-how can you be sure?”

“Let me show you” he helps Barclay up, guides him to the body, “you don’t need to look at him, just at that.”

He’s pointing to the boning knife clutched in the man’s hand. Barclay’s guts turn to sour milk.

“M-maybe he picked that up when he saw you?”

The killer shakes his head, gently guides Barclay back to the bed and, after a moment of studying the nightstand, pulls out the bottom drawer. It contains two more knives, duck tape, pliers, and seven, severed human thumbs.

“Oh fuck. What the fuck, what the fuck?” He whispers as the man closes the drawer.

“Mr. Martin is the Bear Butcher. I doubt you’ve heard of him, because that’s the name the authorities use among themselves while insisting that there’s no need to warn the public about him. He’s killed seven men, all gay and all on the bigger side; you would have been number eight.”

“I’m gonna be sick” He tips forward, feels gloved hands catch him and easily half-drag him into what turns out to be the bathroom.

“Wait here and do what you need to. I’ll be done in fifteen minutes, less if I can manage it. And, um, you might want to keep your eyes closed.”

Barclay has no problem with that order, though when the killer (his hero?) moves the body into the tub he discovers both the reason for the warning and that he does indeed have more in his stomach to throw up.

After an eternity of iron and bleach in the air and bile on his tongue, he’s helped back into the bedroom. The man hands him his clothes, turning his back as he dresses. He’s changed too, though the mask remains.

“I, I didn’t bring my car.” Barclay says weakly, knowing he won’t have the energy to walk home and the thought of getting in a cab or rideshare sets his nerves screaming.

“I assumed, since he wouldn’t want it being abandoned to lead to someone calling you in missing. If you’re okay with it, I can give you a ride home.”

Barclay nods. The man ushers him out the front door, pausing at the threshold for a final sweep. Then he pulls off his mask. Black hair sticks up until he smooths it back in a practiced motion, and blue eyes regard Barclay gently from a handsome face.

“It’s the Altima, right on the corner.” He says, folding the mask and tucking it into his pocket. Barclay gives his address, sits stiffly in the passenger seat as a pop station plays from the speakers.

“Do you want to change the station?”

“No” Barclay inhales fine, but the exhale comes out shaky, “jesus, how are you so calm?”

“Because if I’m trying to help you stay calm, I need to model the behavior. And, um, this isn’t my first time doing this, in case that wasn’t obvious. I’ve never had a witness before, for all the usual reasons and I’d prefer not to traumatize someone. But he went off his pattern and picked you up tonight, and I was not about to let him claim another victim.”

“Thank you.” Barclay doesn’t know what else to say. His adrenaline brain suggests propositioning the man in gratitude because it’s not everyday a hot mystery man saves your life. But the rest of him is well aware that if anyone touched him right now he might scream.

“It’s my job. Or it’s supposed to be.”

His curiosity peeks out from where it’s been hiding behind his sense of self-preservation, “What’s your name? Or can you not tell me?”

“It’s Joseph.”

“Barclay.”

“I wish we’d met under better circumstances, Barclay. Oh, here we are.” He parks the car, engine still running, “do you want me to wait until you’re inside to go?”

It should feel safe; it’s his apartment, his home above Amnesty’s new location, Mama’s own little house just out in the backyard. But his hand can’t make the fucking door handle go.

“Would, uh, would you mind coming up with me? Just, just for a few minutes?”

The man raises his eyebrows, but nods. Soon he’s standing in Barclays little kitchen, hands folded politely behind his back while Barclay tries and fails to start tea.

“If you want to just point to where things are, I can do that for you. You should eat something too, if your stomach’s settled.”

Barclay declines at first, but when his stomach growls Joseph moves through the kitchen--making distracting small talk all the while--not stopping until he’s assembled a plate of crackers, cheese and apples.

“Ooh, you got the good stuff.” He steals a piece for himself while Barclay nibbles a Triscuit

“Kinda a cheese snob; comes with the job.”

They talk about food and food writing until his plate is clear, at which point Joseph suggests he get ready for bed. Without being asked, he stays by the door as Barclay finishes getting changed and brushing his teeth.

“I, uh, I’m not really sure how to, uh, end this night.”

Joseph cups his cheek, “Lock the doors behind me. You don’t need to worry about anything else; you don’t owe me a thing. You’re safe. That’s what matters.” He smiles at him for the last time and heads out into the early morning light.

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

“Hey big fella, you’ll never guess who put in an order.” Mama clips up the slip from the table she’s working; Amnesty has been busy in the week since they opened here, so much so that she’s had to help with the crowds.

“Who?” Barclay flips the pancakes he’s watching, checks the bacons for tables 15 and 9.

“Your late night visitor.” Mama winks.

He turns, spots Joseph at the far end of the counter. He’s in a black suit, blue tie setting off his eyes, and his hair is fully slicked back. On his chest is a badge identifying him as working at the nearby FBI offices. He’s clearly as surprised to see Barclay as Barclay is to see him. He’s less surprised that Mama saw him leaving; she gets up early and her window faces his back stairs

“Hold on” Mama nudges him, “did he give you trouble? Because you look pretty off.”

“No, no, just, uh, didn’t expect to see him again.”

Joseph orders hash and poached eggs, and when Barclay sends the order out, he hands Dani a slice of cherry pie to go along with it. He peeks over his shoulder; Joseph is looking at the free dessert, smiling. Then he takes a bite and makes a face that’s borderline orgasmic. Barclay looks away before he drops a hot waffle on his foot.

Amnesty's restaurant closes at 3, and as Barclay is locking the front door, he notices Joseph waiting for him in an easily visible, well-lit spot.

“You know, I meant it when I said you didn’t owe me anything. Not even the most delicious pie I’ve ever eaten.”

“I give freebies now and then” Barclay smiles, “no rule that says I can’t give them to someone who did me a huge fucking favor. And, uh” he blushes, “glad you like the pie.”

“The whole meal was incredible. You’re a very talented cook. Would it be okay if I came back?” His expression is hopeful, almost nervous.

Barclay touches his shoulder, “Anytime.”

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

“So, uh, I’ve haven’t had a chance to ask but, uh, when you’re not working or chatting with me here, what do you do? For, like, fun?” Barclay leans across the counter as Joseph licks his form clean of meringue. Barclay’s gone through twelve different pie recipes in the last month just to see which ones the other man likes best.

“I read a lot, cultivate an extensive knowledge of old horror movies, try to make decent risotto in my apartment...oh, I play frisbee golf sometimes, I picked it up in college.”

“Any interest in seeing that new Godzilla movie? It looks terrible but in a fun way.”

“Oh yeah, I like what I’ve seen of the design they’re using for the kaiju.” He notices Barclays hand resting millimeters for his own. He runs his thumb along Barclays knuckles, “are you asking if I’ll go see it with you, big guy?”

“Uh huh.”

“I’d love to.”

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

“Holy fuck babe, when you said you were running out to get breakfast I figured you meant, like, McMuffins.”

“Only the best for you, big guy. Consider it a thank you for making dinner last night.” Joseph finishes laying out the donuts from “Holes in One” next to the plate of bagels and lox from the only place that Joseph insists does them right.

Barclay wraps his arms around him, tickling his cheek with his beard, “you’re fucking amazing babe.”

Joseph kisses him, coffee flavored and light, “So are you. Still want to play chess later?”

“Uh huh. Winner gets to blow the loser?”

“I like those terms, Mr. Cobb.”

It’s been like this for the last three months; evenings at the movies or tangled up in bed, mornings in sleepy hazes on the couch or out the eat, days upon days of Joseph spoiling, servicing, and just generally loving the hell out of him.

There are also the nights or, more often, early mornings, when Joseph returns steeped in grim satisfaction. At first he avoided having Barclay over those nights or going to see him the next day. Lately, they’re together so much that it’s unavoidable that Barclay will see the lethal edge lingering in his gaze or rub knots from his shoulders that he knows were earned in some darkened room where horrors had been playing out for weeks, months, even years. He doesn’t shy away from it; he loves Joseph, and that means seeing him clearly, though sometimes what he sees sends chills across his skin. Chills that feel less and less like fear.

They’re out for a walk around the lake, trading bites of gelato, when a question tunnels it’s way to the front of Barclays mind. He waits until they’re sitting on a bench far from any prying ears to ask it.

“What made you decide to, uh, do what you do?”

His boyfriend studies him, then sighs, “A number of things. Fear was the first one; you said you don’t follow true crime, so I’m guessing you don’t know of the Janesville Strangler?”

“Nope.”

“He killed ten young women over the course of three years. He’s also my biological father. Michael Stern is my stepfather and, at my request, my adoptive one as well; my mom remarried as soon as she was sure my father couldn’t get out. He, he never turned any violence on me, but I suspect he used me as leverage with mom; she was a smart woman, I suspect she noticed something amiss but was frightened into keeping quiet. I was six when they locked him up, eight when she remarried. Mike is a gentle man, he did his best to raise me the same. But I, I never shook the fear that whatever drove my father to kill innocent people lurks somewhere in my genes.”

Barclay’s arm rests protectively across Joseph’s shoulders.

“I joined the FBI because I felt if I was able to turn whatever killer genes I have towards understanding serial murderers, I could use them to help others. Keep people safe. Ambition and skill moved me through the ranks quickly but” he sighs, “the more I rose, the more I saw how little was being done. How cases were mishandled, how if there was the slightest hint it was a cop or veteran doing the killing suddenly the case went cold, how a killer could pick off person after person and no one cared because the victims were the “wrong” kind of people. It came to a head two years ago; I’d poured all this energy into a case where the killer went after sex workers. He was prolific and obviously cruel, I fought tooth and nail for every resource I needed to track him. Officer Alex Brown was my main suspect, I was so close to getting a warrant to search his property and then they closed the case. Insisted the deaths were unrelated. I...I went up and searched on my own and” he looks at the sky, rests his head on Barclays arm, “lord almighty the things I found. I was right, I was right and I couldn’t do anything about it, he’d get to just go on preying on people and I couldn’t handle failing his future victims that way. I waited until he went on a hunting trip. Alone. Lots of things can happen to a man in the woods. And it’s hard to find evidence when his body just happens to fall near a coyote den.”

A little smile, one he tries to suppress, creeps up his cheeks, “I’ve never felt so powerful in my entire life. I decided I’d still try to play by the rules but that if I knew, for certain, someone was guilty and being shielded by either ignorance or malice, I’d solve the problem myself.” He looks at Barclay for the first time since he started his answer, face turning to shame, “I’m sorry, I, I should have given the short answer. I didn’t, I don’t want to upset you, or scare you but it’s hard not to given-”

“Joseph” Barclay carefully runs his fingers over black hair, “it’s not like I forgot how we met. I...I’m not under any misimpressions about what you’re capable of. I just wanted to know how you arrived at the solution you did. It’s, uh, it’s not what I’d choose for myself, not something I could do but, uh, I guess what I’m trying to say is that this isn’t going to push me away from you. And that it means a lot to me that you trust me enough to explain it.”

His boyfriend curls closer, “It means a lot to me, too.”

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

Black gloves on his throat, weight on his chest and when he opens his eyes it’s Joseph above him, steel in his gaze and between his fingers. He’s in a muddled dream version of Bear Butcher’s apartment

“Hi, big guy.” The thin knife slices up Barclay’s pants, “let’s get you out of these.”

“Please, please I-”

“Shhhh” Joseph kisses him, “I removed the man who threatened you. But you’re so handsome laid out like this, a victim just waiting for someone to make you scream.”

“Babe, I-”

“That’s not my name right now. Call me..” the hand no longer has a knife, is running roughly up his cock instead, “call me…”

Barclay wakes up still humping the mattress as he cums. Blindly, he reaches for his phone to check the time. It’s the fifth dream like that in two weeks, and they always leave him so horny he tries to get it up and get off again if there’s time. No such luck today; he has to be up in ten minutes.

He tries not to think about it during work, just like he tries not to think about it the rest of the time. Especially in bed with Joseph, his attentive, indulgent Joseph who puts all his organizational skills and professional practice at giving orders into domming Barclay so sweetly he stays in subspace for hours.

He’s still very much not thinking about Joseph gagging him so his screams don’t wake the neighbors as he climbs the stairs to his boyfriends place. Dani was a sweetheart and took care of his orders for him, so he was able to leave work early.

The T.V is on, volume up loud enough that he can tell what his boyfriend is up to before he even walks into the room. He fully intends to tease him for not being able to wait until Barclay was there to jerk off before hauling him into the bedroom. But when he sees the screen, he freezes.

A man in what looks like a cheesy camp counselor uniform is tied to the bed, his shirt stuffed into his mouth as a make-shift gag. Straddling him is a man in a black jumpsuit, knife near his hand and cock buried in the counselors ass.

“That’s it sweetheart, wiggle and try’n get away; you ain’t gonna and it feels so fuckin good when you try. This is what you get for leaving the window open.”

The counselor shakes his head, fear so palpable Barclay barely notices the fact the boom mic is in the shot. The killer pulls the gag free.

“Please, please, don’t kill meAH, ohgod”

A dark laugh, “I’m not gonna kill you, sugar. Thought about it, but when am I gonna find an ass this good again? Nah, I’m gonna take you back with me, keep you strapped down because you’re the, fuck, cutest goddamn specimen I ever caught.”

On the couch, Joseph tenses, cumming in the sleeve he’s using with a cry at the same moment the killer on screen cums and bends to kiss his co-stars tear-streaked face.

Joseph hits the remote, causing the T.V to go dark and reveal Barclay’s reflection.

“Shit!” Joseph leaps up, making Barclay yelp in surprise, “oh, oh thank the lord it’s just you….oh god how much of that did you see?”

“Some?”

Joseph drops to the couch, head in hands, “shit. I’m, I’m so sorry Barclay, I, I never wanted you to know about this habit, I’m sorry it’s awful.” The voice between his fingers sounds like it might cry.

“I mean, that wasn’t like a snuff film, right?”

“Those aren’t real.”

He can’t help but smile remembering Joseph’s rant on the subject, “what I meant was: those guys are just actors getting paid to do a scene like that, not some actually getting attacked.”

“Of course not.” Joseph looks up, horrified, “I’d never watch something like that. The, the whole reason I like this company is that they do horror porn under very ethical working conditions.”

“Then why are you acting like I caught you pissing in my coffee?”

“Does the fact I get off to this honestly not bother you?”

“I mean, people get off to all sorts of shit. Like, um, like” he twists the bracelet on his wrist, “like their boyfriend tying them up and threatening to make them scream.”

Josephs eyes widen. Then he shakes his head, “No. No we can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I...I never, ever want to hurt you that way. Even in a scene. I can’t stand the thought of you being scared of me, of turning these impulses loose on you. It sounds fun until I picture it and then it makes me ill. No, this stays firmly in my head.”

“Okay.” He keeps his reply soft to hide his disappointment. Joseph is still on the couch, refusing to look his way, and so he circles it and kneels at his feet to better rub his arms. He thinks about the images on screen. About Joseph, blissed out then suddenly shame-faced. Joseph, two nights ago, calculated and loving as he worked Barclay over.

No, maybe the kind of scene he’s been picturing isn’t for them. But he can think of one that is.

“What if, uh, instead of giving into the desires that freak you out we kind of rechannel them. Like, instead of strapping me down to torment me, you’re doing it to show off?”

Blue eyes meet his for the first time all night, “Say more.”

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

“Ready?” Barclay bats his eyelashes at Joseph as his boyfriend finishes double checking the tightness of the rope he’s using to tie Barclays arms above his head.

“Ready.” Joseph stands, rolling his shoulders and closing his eyes as he takes deep breaths. Then he frowns, “can you start us off?”

“Sure thing, babe.” He nestles his head on the pillow, “okay, you found me tied up like this. What’s your first thought?”

Joseph opens his eyes, gaze sharp, “That I’m so lucky someone left a handsome specimen like you where I could find him.”

Barclays cock twitches at being referred to that way, “You’re not gonna let me go?”

“Not just yet. You’re so perfect, will you let me make a case for staying here with me?”

“Please” Barclay whimpers as Joseph straddles him, knife in hand.

“I’m very precise, for starters.” He cuts slowly up Barclays boxers until he can pull the strip of fabric off. Repeats the process, lips a firm line of concentration, with his undershirt, “see? There’s not even a scratch. I have to be careful not to damage my perfect specimen.”

Barclay groans, rolling his hips. Joseph smiles, shifting so his cock rubs against Joseph’s clothed crotch.

“Fuck, Joseph-”

“Shhhh” a gloved thumb brushes his lips, “When you’re like this, my name is Sir.”

“Ohfuck.” Barclay rubs his cheek pleadingly in his palm, “Sir, please, please, untie me so I can touch you.”

“Not yet.” Joseph pats his cheek, scoots backwards on the bed, “besides, you’ll have lots of time to touch me once I take you home and make you my sweet live-in plaything.”

“Holyfuckingshit.” Barclay fights off a dozen tantalizing images of what that could entail to focus on their plan, “Sir? What, uh, what was the guy who tied me up going to do to me?”

His boyfriend settles between his legs, “He was going to take you apart.” He lifts Barclay’s right leg, “starting with these, so if you got free you couldn’t run. This tendon first” he kisses the back of his knee, making Barclay giggle. He pauses, then decides on holding both legs up at once so he can repeat the kiss on the other side. His lips move slowly down to his ankles, right side and then the left, before a final one lands on his arch, “he was going to cut here too. But not me” the kisses continue, “I’m going to rub them every evening so you’re never sore.”

“Fuuuuck” He sighs as Joseph straddles him once more, leaning forward so he can kiss and fondle his arms.

“He was going to slice alllll along here” Joseph’s breathing is picking up the longer he lavishes Barclay with kisses, “then he was going to take your fingers one by one” Joseph kisses each knuckle in turn, his free hand petting Barclay’s face and hair, “then he was going to commit a cardinal sin by mangling these” Joseph toys with his pecks, sucks happily on his left nipple for a moment, “what a crime that would have been.”

“Sir” it’s a whine as Joseph nips and kisses his way down to his navel.

He raises slightly, mouth just above Barclays cock, “and because he had no imagination, he was going to cut this wonderful appendage off. Which is not the treatment it deserves.”

“What treatment does it deserve SirrrrrOHfuck, fuckyes” Barclay pants as Joseph licks stripe after stripe up his cock. As Joseph licks and sucks him to a hard-on, he feels the plug slip from his ass.

“I don’t know what his plans were for that” Joseph sits up, undoing his pants and pulling out his cock, “but I know what mine are.” He pushes Barclays legs wide, works his cock in with slow, steady thrusts while Barclay tries to remember how words work.

“Shit, yes, god your ass is amazing, what kind of person sees it and thinks its for anything but fucking?”

“Nngh” Barclay clings to the ropes as Joseph’s thrusts quicken.

“Lord, I thought you were a perfect specimen before but I was wrong, you look even better taking my cock.”

“Fuck, fuck that’s hot.”

Joseph grip his thighs tight enough to hurt, “well, big guy, will you stay with me?” His eyes glitter, his hair is coming loose and falling across his forehead.

“YesAH, yes, ohfucksirright there” He didn’t notice Joseph changing the angle of thrusts until his cock found his prostate, “I’ll be so good Sir, wanna be a good boy for you.”

“Oh good.” Joseph’s smile goes wolfish for an instant, “because I would have had to do some very mean things to persuade you if you refused.”

Barclay cums at that, staining Joseph’s shirt with white. His hands knock against the headboard as Joseph fucks him hard enough to make him sob with oversensitive pleasure.

“You’re going to be such a nice plaything for Sir, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Good boyOH, ohshit, shit.” Joseph pulls out halfway through cumming, spattering it on Barclays thighs and balls. Carefully, he lowers his legs. Then his boyfriend collapses into his arms, panting and giddy.

“That, that was so fun. I’d say who knew but every time we fuck you show me just how fucking fun all this can be.”

“Aw, babe.” He goes to hug him and rediscovers the ropes.

“Ohshit, here” Joseph sets to work undoing his knots, “are your wrists okay? Not too sore? How about your shoulders?”

“They all feel fucking great, baby. I feel great. How could I not? I got you looking after me.”

Joseph smiles, “and out for you.”

“That too. Now c’mere, special agent, your next assignment is cuddling your boyfriend.”

[duckymcdoorknob]

BNHA Boys Headcannons:

He Hears You Sing for the First Time.

Hi fellas!! Welcome to my BNHA headcannons! I wanted to write something other than my normal fics, so I’ll be posting a master list of these scenarios and updating them mostly bi-weekly! ❤️✨

————————————

Katsuki Bakugo:

Tonight was a calm night during the sports festival. Classes 1-A and 1-B were at a shady bar, engaged in a heavy karaoke contest. It all started with a certain Monoma deciding that 1-B could be superior to 1-A in anything they wanted. Jirou decided to pick a karaoke contest.

Inside, you were mentally cursing yourself. You had never revealed your talent and it didn’t match with your quirk whatsoever. Nonetheless, If it would get that corn-headed bastard to shut up, you were willing to make a personal sacrifice.

After Jirou finished her rendition of I Hate Myself for Lovin’ You, she received almost max on the applause-o-meter. Next it was Tetsutetsu’s turn. You spaced out trying to figure out what you were going to sing. Then it hit. The best song. You didn’t even have to sing, just speak fast. It was perfect.

Tetsutetsu received low applause, making you feel bad in a way, but not too much.

“Next to the stage. Class 1-A, (Y/N) Tamayaki” Monoma announced.

As you passed by him, he flicked your shoulder. You turned your head and scowled at him, “if you’re scared about me beating your 5 on the meter...” you walked on the stage and tapped the mic, “you should be.”

You whispered to the DJ, selecting your most straightforward repertoire song, It’s The End of The World As We Know It

The familiar tinking of the intro played, gaining some hoots and hollers from the crowds. You took to the microphone, “that’s great it starts with an earthquake, birds, snakes and aeroplanes, Lenny Bruce is not afraid”

You masterfully complete the first verse, without a misstep or stutter. Seeing Monoma look like a deer in headlights made it all the more satisfying. When moving into the chorus, you notice a head full of blonde spikes walk through the door.

“Six o’ clock, Tv hour...” you spoke so fluidly it was almost mechanical. The usually stoic boy turned to look at you with a hint of shock in face. You moved through the second verse with a little wobble, mixing a word or two after seeing the explosive blonde.

“The other night I tripped a nice continental drift divide. Mt. St. Edelide...”

After the entirety of the bar shouted “Leonard Bernstein” at you, your turn was almost up. You finished the song with full power in your voice.

The audience erupted into boisterous cheering, leaving you dazed on the stage. Jirou ushered you away with a, “why the hell didn’t you tell us you sang?”

As you passed by Bakugo, you felt a rough hand on your shoulder.

“Oy extra,” a gruff voice sounded, “that was pretty damn cool. Since when do you do that shit?”

Your cockiness from Monoma never left you, “it’s always been there, pretty boy, just never let anyone know it.” You get on your toes and whisper in his ear, “it goes much deeper than this. Let me know when you want to hear more.”

You walk off with Jirou, earning a high five from her. Bakugo stood dumbfounded. Maybe you weren’t an extra after all.

Izuku Midoriya:

Class 1-A’s antics never did end. Kirishima insisted on the whole class hearing his singing voice, a god awful one may I add. So, the class was broken out into full on song.

You had never shown anyone you could sing, it just didn’t fit with your quirk. So you held it off. As soon as the whole ordeal started growing, you found yourself walking to the front of the school.

You plant down on a bench, plugging in your earbuds. You scroll through your Spotify playlist, but ultimately let it shuffle. You un-tensed as the beginning of The Boys of Summer echoed in your ears. You closed your eyes and let lazy lyrics escape your lips.

“Nobody on the road, nobody on the beach...” you quietly echoed the song.

This was the true symbol of peace: no one to bother you while you listened to a bomb ass song. You didn’t notice the added weight on the bench next to you until it was too late.

“Well I can see you, your brown skin shining in the sun...” you quietly let the words escape your lips like clockwork.

You opened your eyes to take in the world around you. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw Izuku sitting right next to you.

“I-uh h-h-hi! Sorry to bother you, but you just disappeared. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

You chuckled softly. How could you be mad at this stuttering mess?

“Um (Y-Y-Y/N)? C-could you keep singing for me?” Izuku was flushed. He was embarrassed with himself, clearly.

You let out a soft breath of air, your lips curving into a smile. You let the next words of the song release from you. You leaned back onto Izuku’s lap, not thinking anything of it. You felt the boy tense up in your lap, but he ultimately relaxed and began to play with your hair.

Okay you lied, this was the true symbol of peace. You spent the whole afternoon in the same position; singing along to whatever song happened to be next in the shuffle.

Denki Kaminari: (got a little carried away here. I’m a Kami hoe)

Certain days bring certain events that you can never plan for. The spring festival most definitely had the it’s surprises in store.

You were hanging out with your friends, Mina, Bakugo, Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari. Today has been the best day you’ve ever experienced. So many fun filled events! Bakugo dominated ring toss and won a giant stuffed zebra for himself, plus a giant stuffed Pikachu for Denki. Sero won the ropes course, receiving a small teddy bear. Mina and Kirishima took on a milk bottle toss, in which they both walked away with a stuffie of their own.

“(Y/N)-Chan! You haven’t won a prize yet! What game can we all play to get one?” Mina chimed

“Oh! I’m not sure! I’m not very athletically inclined, if you catch my drift.” You rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment.

“That’s okay! Neither am I, I just have a good throwing arm” Mina beamed back in response.

You gave her a closed-eyed grin as you continued with the group. You had to admit that you wanted a stuffie of your own, but how were you supposed to win one?

“Ooooh! Look! Look!” Kirishima’s voice suddenly rang.

You look up to see a midsize stage, a huge crowd of your fellow students and Present Mic setting up a microphone. This should be good...

“Attention studennnnntsssssaah!” A booming voice echoed through the field, “come to the stage for a cool talent show! Winner receives a speeeeeecial prizzzeee!~”

You looked at Kiri with furrowed eyebrows. You hadn’t told anyone about your singing voice yet, so you played dumb.

“What could I possibly bring to the stage? My quirk? You’ve all seen it already.” You snapped in defense while fiddling with your hair.

“You can sing! I heard you humming in the common room!” Kirishima bit back in rebuttal.

“That doesn’t mean a damn thing! And even if I could, Ive got tons of other people to go against!”

You looked amongst your friends, who all had the same look in their eyes. You hung your head down and went to Present Mic to sign up.

After a few minutes, your name was called. You mentally cursed yourself as you shuffled onto the stage.

“Next in our competition, (Y/N) Tamayaki!” Present Mic announced.

You looked at Kirishima, who gave you a thumbs up. As the music started, you sucked in a breath. This is it. The tempo grows and accompaniment becomes more intense. You can’t help but smile.

“Movin’ on the floor now baby, you’re a bird of paradise” you began to sing.

Kirishima cheered. Rio was a favorite amongst you and Kiri. You moved through the first verse with great ease.

“Her name is Rio and she dances on the sand.” You were feeling free, not holding back a bit. You sang your heart out through the next verse, masterfully completed the second chorus, and chuckled as the instrumental break sounded.

As the saxophone began to play, you felt a hand on yours and soon you were spun around. Kirishima has come up to the stage to get you to “loosen up”, but he just wanted to perform with you.

“You make me feel alive, alive alive! Luck is on my side or somethin’, I know what you’re thinkin!” You chimed as Kirishima spun you again.

You started the final chorus, while Kirishima beckoned the whole audience to sing. They all obliged except for one...

A dazed Denki stood with a pink tinge on his cheeks. He was awestruck for sure, for you had never revealed this side of you to him.

As the song ended, you stuck your microphone up in the air and smiled wide. The audience roared in applause, and you won a (favorite animal) plushie.

You exited the stage and tried to grab the voluptuous plushie, but it was so heavy you stumbled backwards.

“Woa-! Careful (Y/N)!” Kaminari cried as he caught you by your underarms, “dude! What the hell that was SO cool!!”

You chuckled and helped yourself to your feet, taking one end of the plush and Kami on the other. You both met with your group while Kaminari pestered you with questions.

Ejirou Kirishima:

Finally! Your first semester of U.A High was complete! Today was a great day for you and your classmates to hang out. So, you and your friend group decided to go have lunch somewhere fun.

“Oye Bakugo, I don’t know If I’m comfortable with you driving. Especially considering you road rage something awful.” Denki intervened your thoughts.

“Oh yeah definitely. Do not let blasty over here behind the wheel.” You agreed.

Bakugo glared daggers at the two of you. “I’m a more than adEQUATE DRIVER THANK YOU!”

“You’re welcome! But you’re not driving.” You chimed in response, “Kirishima can”

“Hell yeah!” Kirishima beamed as he trudged to the driver’s seat of his Mustang.

Bakugo called shotgun first, so you were stuck in the backseat with Denki and Sero. Middle set between these two tricksters? Can’t be as innocent as it seems.

Nonetheless, Kirishima started up the car and put the top down. “We’re riding in style today my friends.”

You chuckled and relaxed in your seat. It would be about a 45 minute drive to go where you all agreed, but it would be a fun one. Kirishima turned on his spotify, letting it shuffle. Some slow song came on and you felt your eyes get heavy...

All of the sudden, you saw your eyelids again. You opened your eyes to see that you had fallen asleep on Kami’s shoulder, and that he had done the same.

“Long day at the mill I guess?” Kirishima asked, looking at you in the rear-view mirror with a grin.

You chuckled softly, he was right. You definitely needed that nap. At that moment, your favorite song played on Kirishima’s spotify, Fallen Angel by Poison.

“WAIT! You’re a poison fan too?!” You shot up, forgetting about poor Kaminari on your shoulder. The boy woke up upon impact with the seat, and you gave him an amused puff of air.

“Jeez (y/n) I let you sleep on my shoulder and tried not to move you. But all of the sudden the tables turn and you don’t do the same? Not cool.” Denki said with a pout.

“BUT LISTEN TO THE SONG!” You chimed.

“It’s just guitar right now.” Kaminari responded as he yawned.

“ITS SO MUCH BETTER THOUGH!” You cried, “She stepped off the bus and out into the city streets.” You began to sing.

Kirishima looked in the rear-view again. He saw you absolutely jamming as you sang. He smiled fondly and turned his attention back to the road.

“Just a step away from the edge of the fall. Sometimes you can’t choose-“

“It’s like a heads you win, tails you’re gonna lose!” Kirishima started to sing with you.

“WIN BIG, MAMA’S FALLEN ANGEL, LOSE BIG, LIVIN’ OUT HER LIES.” You both erupted in to song, causing an angry Bakugo to roll his eyes and let out a fond scoff.

You and Kirishima sang your hearts out until the song ended. You repeated this pattern with all of Kirishima’s other music. You and this boy shared such similar music taste.

Kaminari and Bakugo tried to be annoyed, but they couldn’t seem to find a reason to not be amused. When a song you all knew came on, everyone started singing, even Bakugo. Upon arrival at the restaurant, everyone was smiling and ready for a nice lunch.

“I never knew you had such a nice voice (y/n)!” Kirishima cooed, “you and Jirou should totally team up and make music together!”

Your face heated up. “Oh- uh! Heh, thanks Kiri! I’m happy to hear that you’re a man of culture as well. Not many people our age know about Poison.” You rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment.

Kirishima’s eyebrows raised with excitement, “oh yeah! I love older music! There’s just something about it! I mean the backing music isn’t the main focus of the song, it’s like an accompaniment for the vocals and-“

“Jesus Christ Kirishima. Get a fucking room you two, you sound like Deku with all that rambling” Bakugo’s annoyed voice sounded. You both felt your faces heat up at the comment, walking into the restaurant with a new idea in both of your minds.

Shoto Todoroki: (got carried away here too uwu)

A lonely rainy day. The boys were all at the pool for some “extra training”. It was close to your birthday and the girls were out to find a present for you. You chuckled softly at the thought. You knew straight away what the girls were planning.

“(Y/n) Chan!” Uraraka’s voice echoed through your thoughts, “were going to the shop to get a-“ she cut herself off, “some snacks for you today! We want to get some (favorite chip flavor) chips!” She beamed.

You nodded in response with a goofy grin. They’re the best friends you could ask for. All of the girls took off in an instant, leaving you in the dorms by yourself.

“Waste not want not.” You hummed to yourself as you made your way into the common room. You prepared yourself a mug of (favorite warm drink) (hot choccy gang) and planted down by the large bay window.

The world was silent. Nothing daring to make a sound, but the pitter-patter of the rain outside of the window. You sighed with great satisfaction. How could this day possibly get better? You grabbed your phone and earbuds from the couch and turned on your Spotify.

“Well... it’s just me here. I can practice my audition music if I wanted.” You thought out loud. You clicked in the playlist containing all of the songs that suited your voice the most.

You instantly relaxed and prepared to start as the familiar tweets and twitters of Green Finch and Linnet Bird played through your earbuds.

“Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird, how is it you sing?” You began to softly sing, “how can you jubilate sitting in cages, never taking wing?”

You stared out the window, as if you were acting out the scene yourself, “Outside the sky waits beckoning, beckoning, just beyond the bars.” You stood to your feet and let the music run through you. No one was here to judge you, no one could laugh or glare or, in Bakugo’s case, sneer at you. “How can you remain, staring at the rain? Maddened by the stars?”

You were now in the center of the room, sitting on the couch. “How is it you sing? Anything?” The music crescendoed into a melodious break. You continued to the window, singing the song ever so softly, as if you were singing a lullaby. “Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird, teach me how to sing.”

The rain fell harder as you plopped down on the window ledge, “if I cannot fly... let me sing.” You stared out the window with a soft smile on your face. Yes... this is the best way to spend your birthday. Completely alone, cup of (drink) in hand, singing your heart out... Nothing could beat it.

You noticed that you were out of (drink) and returned to the kitchen to pour yourself some more. Upon exiting, the cord of your earbuds snagged along the handle of a drawer. Before you had time to react, a small beam of ice froze your drink, keeping you from burning yourself.

“Are you alright, Tamayaki?”

You stood dazed, unable to process everything. Your mouth sat agape as you tried to usher a sentence.

“(Y/N)? Everything’s fine, you didn’t fall, I caught you.”

That’s when you noticed the arm gripped around yours. You turned to meet the concerned eye of your best friend, Shoto Todoroki.

“A-Ah! Gomenasai Todoroki-San!” You stuttered as your face heated up, “gee how embarrassing.”

Todoroki simply grinned with an exhale of air. Your eyes widened and eyebrows furrowed as you swallowed, “that means you’ve been here the whole time... and you heard me-“

“Singing? Yes. Your voice is quite beautiful. It was a great accompaniment to my embroidering.” Todoroki admitted with a soft smile.

“-was gonna say talk to myself but...” you covered your face with your hands, “no one’s ever heard me sing before! I was always so careful!”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed. You truly have a gift.” Todoroki said softly, “if you don’t mind, I would like to embroider while you sing to me.”

You pondered. “Well you’ve already heard me, so there’s no sense in hiding. But, I do need some more (drink), because you kinda like froze my original cup.” Shoto nodded with a chuckle and turned on his heel to grab his supplies.

You smiled and retreated to the kitchen for a new cup of (drink). You then sat down on the couch, scrolling through your playlist to find something slow and quiet. When you felt the ouch weigh down next to you, you absentmindedly rested your head on his shoulder.

“Happy birthday (Y/N). Such a peaceful afternoon must be a gift.”

“Hanging with you is a gift enough.” You muttered, hoping he wouldn’t hear you.

“I feel the same. Now, I want to hear your beautiful voice again. Hop to it.” Shoto gently commanded.

You obliged and spent your quiet time with him. Hours passed and still you both sat, attention on each of your hobbies. Nothing could ruin this incredible moment. Until Uraraka bursted through the door, causing you to spill an entire mug of scalding (drink) in your lap...

“Happy friggin birthday.” You cringed as Todoroki patted your lap with a cold dish towel.

[heyheshi]

Mirror Selfies, Fake Hickeys, and Cheetos... And Lots of Make Out Sheesh

3.3k words

written and uploaded: August 27, 2020

🦋 - fluff

🌙 - angst...? Idek now honestly lmao

💎 - smut, well just lots of make out sheesh

Please like and reblog! Also please don't post my writings anywhere!

Have y'all heard "Half The World Away"? This piece could have been a song fic since it's about being best friends but I've already wrote like half of this when I got the idea and this is in your POV so I'll be doing a song fic soon! And it's about HTWA! in Harry's POV on my 2nd month!

Masterlist

_________

You checked out your outfit one last time in front of your full body mirror - smoothing out those little wrinkles and making sure that your chosen clothes emphasizes your body in the most flattering way. My butt's poppin!, you thought to yourself.

The attire of your choice wasn't entirely revealing, wearing a white sailor pants with eight gold buttons in front - four on each sides, a sheer laced white sleeveless bodysuit that plunges just enough to show a bit of your cleavage, and white pumps. You look elegant in your opinion but not elegant enough to not get hit on in a club.

You're not trying to empress anyone but you also don't wanna look like you just got out of bed on your cousin's party. You decided not to wear any makeup - just some eyeliner and lip gloss, your hair parted in the middle in a low tight ponytail. You added a few gold accessories to accent everything.

You're sure that the club's packed and you're gonna get sweaty, you don't want any makeup to ruin your white clothes. Keeping your fingers crossed that you can keep everything clean and intact throughout the night.

Natural and elegant. Keep it natural and elegant, your mums words keeps replaying in your head.

You took your phone out from your purse that's laying on the dresser - opening the camera app and posing for a couple of mirror shots but only having three of your favorite - one doing a very cheeky pose by smiling big at the mirror while winking, your other hand doing the 'gun'; one looking sweet and shy, looking at the mirror with your eyes wide while holding a strand of your hair as if you're a child being handed your favorite sweet treat; and one looking sexy and seductive, putting your pointer finger on your lip as if biting on it as you look straight into the camera through your mirror.

Giggling to yourself after checking out the photos, you opened the messages app next and clicked on your conversation with your best friend Harry.

"Think it passed the "okay" looking?", you typed...

And sent!

You found him attractive but vowed to not cross any lines but you're feeling extra brave tonight so you also sent him the one where you looked really really hot - in your opinion.

Honestly, you'd say you're tall but not tall enough to rock a sailor pants the way Harry does but to your surprise, you looked rather ravishing tonight.

Your best friend of 2 years gifted you these pants as a joke as you always teased him about wearing one so one night he brought you these pants and said, "you better at least look okay in it" but now jokes on him. You thought that those three pictures will do the honors of mocking him.

As you're locking your front door, you hear your phone notification - a new message from "Sugar Baby :<", an inside joke that you used as Harry's contact name.

"Who was I kidding, you look good in anything. Take care and don't forget our plans tomorrow!", the message said, quickly responding with two frog emojis, you locked your phone.

---

The club really is packed but your cousin had this private booth for everyone so it's all good. You partied like a college student with your cousin and her other friends, managing to not ruin your clothes despite of everyone's clumsiness.

You don't remember much besides drinking and dancing and talking and laughing and kissing this guy - Austin. He was one of those guys that looks like they modeled for some clothing magazine - an underwear apparel perhaps.

It didn't get far with Austin, you mostly just danced and made out but you're also not sure since you're too drunk to comprehend anything. The last thing you remember was you saying goodbye to your cousin and Austin getting you a cab then you're back to your house.

You didn't remember if you paid the driver more than the real rate but you didn't care, you're too excited to try this hairstyle you saw on one of your cousin's friend.

Opening your front door and locking it after you got in, you kicked off your heels and got a bottled water on the fridge to bring to your room. Everything looks blurry but the digital clock on your bedside table reads 2:13 AM.

The last thing you remember was removing your almost non-existent makeup after changing your clothes and sitting on your dresser.

---

You woke up on your bed feeling light-headed but at the same time feeling like you have 10 pounds of rock on top of it. You noticed that you're laying on your bed wearing your worn out college shirt, some underwear and a tiny pair of shorts. Your blinds shut all the way and your clock reading 9:48 AM.

Freaking out, you remembered your plans with your best friend today. Scrambling out of your bed to your bathroom, you brushed your teeth and washed your face thanking the heavens for giving you enough time to change out of your clothes last night - which is now on your hamper near your bathroom door - and cleaning your face properly.

You also noticed that your hair is properly styled - your hair's upper half's sectioned into three then braided to meet in the middle, while the half down's curled into waves.

You left the bathroom and went to your dresser to check your phone. You saw that your hair curler is still plugged but turned off - quickly unplugging it - and your other hair styling supplies laid on your dresser.

You head is still pounding as you look through your messages and missed calls. None of them from "Sugar Baby :<". Sighing, you racked your mind as much as you can to remember why your hair is styled this way and why hasn't your best friend called, maybe he got called in the studio last-minute, your mind told you.

Shaking your head, you slowly opened your door to strut down to your kitchen to eat some breakfast and take some Advil to at least ease your headache.

You were about to put some cereal on your bowl when Harry appeared out of nowhere startling you, a few bits of your corn flakes now scattered on your table.

"Mornin' sleepy head", Harry chuckles, greeting you with a teasing smile as if to mock you for mocking him last night when you're the one who's hammered right now. You looked at him with scarred eyes then pulling your eyebrows together as if questioning him.

"You gave me a spare key, remember. Knew you'd be hung over so I didn't woke you up, just let myself in. Was in the washroom when you got down.", he said answering your unvoiced question, "oh I also got you some waffles from your favorite diner, it's in the living room.", you only smiled at him as a sign of gratitude.

You started cleaning up your mess when you heard him speak once again, "wild night huh?", Harry teases you.

You looked up to meet his eyes, "Huh? What're you talking 'bout?", you asked in your morning voice, only having to talk right now for the first time.

"Huh? What are you talking about?", Harry failed miserably on trying to copy your voice, you only laughed at him. "C'mon love, don't be shy now!", he added.

You shake your head at him and looked down, "I really don't know what you're talking about...", you kept your head down as your tried to think of everything that happened last night that might connect to what Harry was saying.

"So you're telling me nobody tried to hit on you with THAT outfit last night?", he joked.

"Uh well someone did but nothing happened, I swear, so please just tell me what is it. My head hurts when I try to think."

Harry took his phone from his pocket and gave it to you, the camera app opened. You can see your tired looking face on the screen, "look at your neck, you got three.", Harry explained.

Trying to find what he's talking about, you moved your hair away from your neck and saw it. Three bruises on your neck, a hickey perhaps? One below your right ear, one just above your left collarbone, and one in the middle of your neck.

"Oh...", was the only thing you said as you further examined the bruises and giving the phone back to Harry. You're sure that Austin didn't leave a mark then you realized something.

At first it looked like a love mark but when you looked closely to it, you'd realize that it's a burn - your hair curler burn. After realizing it, the events after you went home last night came rushing back making you hold your head.

You remember everything from changing your clothes, to removing your make up, to sitting on your dresser and clumsily trying this hair style you saw on the party and managing to burn yourself more than usual as you curl your hair, then going to bed after you gave up by turning off the curler.

Looking back at it, your hair style and burns doesn't look that awful for some drunk fella doing it. And for some reason, you don't want to tell your best friend the truth so you just shrugged it off as you finished cleaning up your mess.

You can feel his eyes burning on your neck as you rounded the table and giving him a hug, "thank you for the food.", you said and went to plop down on your couch in the living room, leaving H astounded and confused.

You started opening the take out boxes that contains your waffles and some other breakfast as Harry opened your T.V. and launched Netflix.

The silence was nice for your head with only a few laughs here and there as you both watched and eat some breakfast but Harry was unusually very quiet, not making any remarks at all.

You decided to ask him later and finished off your food, Harry already done with his a few minutes ago. You stood up the couch and took your trash to the kitchen then taking some pain reliever for your head before going back to the living room.

When you went back to Harry, he was just looking absent-mindedly on the television so you sat really close to him and took his right arm so you can tuck yourself beside him, bringing back his arms but this time around your body.

"What's the matter?", you asked as you looked up at him, the medicine already taking its effect making you less dizzy.

"Just tired love.", he said not looking down at you. You only nodded and never thought much about it and looked back to the show you both were watching while caressing his hands that's laying near your tummy.

A few more minutes on the movie, you called out his name, "Harry, I can tell something's bothering you...", you whispered.

Harry being Harry, whipped his head so fast that your lips accidentally touched in a peck. Sighing, he moved his head away from yours, "later.", was the only thing he said, not giving you any explanation.

You knew that the sigh wasn't because of the accidental kiss. You've shared a kiss or two before when you were both drunk or accidentally kissed like this so it wasn't new but it didn't stop you from running your tongue throughout your lower lips when he wasn't looking.

He was acting really strange. He's always really affectionate and flirty when it comes towards you so - always mocking you or telling you jokes and distracting you most of the time by tickling you as you cuddle with him - so you know that something's bothering him right now.

He looked at you when you started to move away from him, only for you to straddle his lap and hug him, something you usually do when he's feeling down.

Yes, it doesn't look like something best friends would do but you both became really comfortable enough around each other to do this.

The show long forgotten as you tended your Harry, running your hands through his hair as you pecked his hairline repeatedly. Harry had his head on your neck as he holds you tight against his body, his two big hands covering almost all of your back.

You don't know how much time has passed but you didn't mind until you felt Harry's hand going at the back of your neck, finger tips felt like he's tickling your skin but you didn't make a huge deal out of it.

Your legs now feeling a bit numb so you adjusted yourself on his lap, Harry's head snapping back to you, "stop moving, Y/N.", he said sternly and you whispered an apology. You knew how much he hated it when you two cuddled and you can't stop moving.

He just put his head back to your neck again and for a few minutes everything is peaceful until you felt ticklish on the spot where Harry's head's placed but you refrained from moving, not wanting to upset him any further.

The movement was barely there for a few minutes until you can firmly feel his lips kissing and licking your neck, "H-harry, wh-what are you d-doing?", you tried to push him away but he only hold you closer, your moans threatening to spill as he continues his movements.

You then felt him suck and bit on your neck, a movement you knew will give you a mark - Harry's mark, and then you realized that where he's doing it is the spot where you burned yourself.

You cannot stop yourself from finally gripping his hair to push his head more towards your neck, both of you moaning a bit.

"What're we doing?", you panted heavily as Harry moved his head, probably heading towards your other burn below your ear.

His mouth working deliciously on your skin making your stomach churn and making you grind on him in return, moaning in delight.

"I'm just making sure that those marks are now MY marks.", Harry looked up to you with droopy eyes then went back to marking you.

"I- bu-", you couldn't form any coherent word, let alone a sentence so you just let your best friend mark you as much as he wanted.

You know it's wrong and that you vowed not to cross any line but his lips just felt too good on your skin to stop it.

You gripped his hair tightly making Harry moan as he marked you on the thrid spot, the middle of your neck, one of your sweet spots - and you think Harry noticed as your moans and whimpers of his name got louder making him suck harder.

You grounded you hips on his, feeling him get hard. You yanked his hair away from your neck and met his lips in a hot steamy kiss. His hands now on your hips, helping you move your hips against his.

Moans, pants and whimpers was all you can hear around the living room until you pulled away.

"I- Harry what are we thinking?!", your frustration is heard and can be seen on your face, your lips swollen and your neck red and starting to bruise from Harry's earlier assault.

Harry throw his head back on the couch, "fuck! 'M so sorry love! I- I always- fuck! I just, was so jealous of the guy I couldn't contain my possessiveness and you're not even mine!"

You only looked at him surprised, "I-", you didn't finish your sentence as you went back to kiss him again which took Harry by surprise but eagerly kissed you back.

"It was a burn.", you panted against Harry's lips.

He pulled away, looking at you confused, "what?".

"Nothing happened last night, we only made out, it wasn't hickeys, it was hair curler burns...", you explained blushing.

He put his hands on your arms, caressing it lightly, "why didn't you tell me?"

"Dunno", you shrugged, "guess I wanted to know how you'd react, make you jealous maybe...", you looked down ashamed of yourself, feeling so small under his gaze.

Harry only laughed as he run his fingers along his marks, "well it worked. Got really jealous, love.", he said and angled your face to meet his eyes. "Liked you since forever and I was jealous, thought he got to take THAT outfit off of you last night...", Harry murmured, his ears looking red out of embarrassment making you feel a bit better.

"Liked you since forever too... and good thing I went home alone, huh?", you teased Harry, ruffling his hair a bit and putting both of your hands on his shirt clad chest.

"He still got to kiss you..."

"Well then guess you got a lot of making up to do!", with that you kissed him again, hungrily. Until he pulled away.

"Cheetos.", Harry said then went back to kissing you again but you're too confused to continue.

"H, what?"

"Those three pictures last night...", he kissed down your neck as he continued, "Cheetos, salsa-queso for the one where you looked cute and cheesy...", slowly going back up, "the sweetos Cheetos - the cinnamon sugar puff ones - for the one where you looked like a child...", he pulled away at last making you breathe out finally, "and flamin hot Cheetos for the one where you looked really sexy.", Harry smiled cheekily at you as you pondered on what he said.

"You couldn't have thought of something better to compare me to, huh?", you laughed at him but you think it's sweet, really.

Harry played with the tips of your hair and said, "I bet you fifty bucks that you sent that last picture just to seduce me."

"Well Mister Styles you're right!", you laughed, "why? Are you mad?"

"Mad? That outfit made me lose control, really thankfully it led to this."

You pecked his lips once more, "hmmm, you're right... so what now...?"

"Well for starters, you could've called me to take care of you last night...", his sweet words ran through your head until he continued, "and well you owe me...", he did this cute thinking face that you love, "you have to wear it again, this time, with ME beside you, want us to match too!", you giggled at his childishness but let him continue.

"That's just an excuse to take it off of you the next time around!", he overexaggeratedly winked at you, letting you know that he's joking - maybe not but honestly you don't mind!

You sighed then smiled, "that's it?"

"Well you do owe me a date, miss."

You removed yourself away from him and stood up, "is that so? You gotta call me SUGAR MOMMY first!", you teased him.

"Stop! Come back here!", Harry made a grabby hands at you while jutting out his lips.

"Okay, just tell me when and where!", after that words came out of your mouth, Harry quickly went to where you're standing and kissed you for a few seconds before carrying you to your bedroom where you spent the rest of the day kissing and laughing and planning for your first date. Making a mental note to buy those Cheetos to bring along to your date.

Your headache long gone and the both of you not feeling any hunger as long as you got each others lips. For the first time in months, you felt really happy, now you wouldn't be jealous of Harry being with other people, and him to you but the thought of putting your friendship with him at risk scares you to death but with him beside you, you knew that it'll all work out in the end.

_____

[dex-xe]

fluff no.50 with the captain and havers??

Captain & Havers Fluff #50: “Stay.”

(I’m super, super, super happy with this one,, v proud fellas!! This is based on my own experiences btw and how shutdowns affect me specifically so I am in now way claiming this to be representative of the whole community but if people have problems with this let me know and I’ll take it down cause even though its personal to me, I don’t want others to feel disrespected. Anyway, again this went up on ao3 like two days ago I think?? so yeh go check out stuff on there too!! Enjoy!!) (even though this one is mad long XD)

Prompt list

Inbox

Vision blurred by the night and mind foggy with tiredness, the Captain finally reached the gates of Button House. He hitched his khaki bag up higher on his shoulder and blinked up at the dark windows of the manor house, safe in the knowledge that his soldiers were fast asleep and unable to disturb him further. The driving rain stuck his silver hair to his forehead and made his uniform cling to his skin in a suffocating hold, not exactly helping his vulnerable situation.

He’d spent a week in London with other COs from across the region, sitting through meeting after meeting with a masked expression plastered across his face. His energy had not been focussed on the week’s work but instead on trying to appear calm and normal in front of his superiors. He’d kept it up, much to his own surprise, he’d left the mask in place for a full week; never dropping the facade, never letting the reality of his anxiety-ridden demeanour slip out.

As he ran through the rain to the front door, he couldn’t help but feel some pride in keeping up appearances but the mental energy he had lost over the week was seriously taking it’s toll. The house span in front of him blurring into a swirl of dark colours, he couldn’t think of anything but the intense desire to climb into bed and block out the world for a little while: just a few hours where he could be quiet and still and shut off the lights and sounds, where he didn’t have to speak to a single other soul.

Gripping his bag tightly over his shoulder, the Captain pushed open the heavy wooden door and stumbled into the hallway. Water droplets fell from his hair as he ran a hand through it, wiping his feet on the mat and quietly pushing the door shut behind, being careful not to wake the men.

“You’re back late.”

The Captain jumped a mile as a whisper emanated from the dark house. He started up to see Lieutenant Havers leaning in the hall doorway. The Captain’s breath caught in his throat as he saw Havers in a way he had never seen before: hair mussed up slightly and falling across his forehead, soft white nightshirt flowing over his standard issue army slacks.

“Captain?” Havers ducked his head slightly to meet the Captain’s eye line where it had been fixated on his chest. “Here, dry yourself off.”

Havers held out a towel for the Captain, who took it graciously and began to brush water from his hair. The Captain noticed his hands were shaking a little as he reached out to Havers and worked to try and steady them to maintain his facade.

“You are rather late, sir. We were expecting you back late afternoon; it’s well past midnight?” Havers queried.

“Train,” the Captain said simply, his voice cracked as he reluctantly spoke for the first time in hours.

“Ah, blasted things. Just can’t rely on them,” Havers smiled. “How was your? Did you hear from Colonel Andrews about their progress? Surely they must be close to finishing Operation Coventry by now?”

“Mmhm,” the Captain coughed. “Yes I should think so, Lieutenant. There shall be a full briefing in the morning.”

“Are you feeling quite well, sir?” Havers asked, noting the Captain’s pale complexion, fast, heavy blinking, and fidgeting hands wringing the towel between his fingers.

“Perfectly adequate, thank you Lieutenant,” he stuttered. “Now, if you don’t mind, I wish to shower and turn in for the night.”

The Captain turned to stumble up the stairs after Havers nodded curtly, barely taking in the concern plastered across his lieutenant’s features.

***

The Captain showered quickly before pulling on the nightclothes from his bag and taking up a swift jog to reach his private bedroom without running into any night owls still wandering lonely through the corridors. He slowly and quietly shut the bedroom door, sighing heavily and resting his forehead against the wood. He twisted the key and listened to the satisfying clunk of the lock barring the rest of the world from entering his life for just a few hours.

“Feeling better, sir?”

The Captain jumped at Havers’ voice once again. He spun on his toes to see Havers stoking a fire he had clearly put great effort into lighting.

“Good lord, man!” the Captain started, agitation beginning to rise through his chest. “Must you insist on sneaking up on me?”

“I don’t mean to, sir!” Havers was crouched beside the fire, his gentle smile illuminated by the flames. “There’s cocoa on the side by your bed, and a hot water bottle between the sheets for you. Try to warm you up after your dash through the rain, yes?”

The Captain dropped his bag from his shaking grip and sat on the edge of the bed. The hot cocoa warmed his hands, taking away some of the pain of having to continue the charade of acceptability he had suffered through during the week.

“Our briefing will be at 10:00 hours rather than 8, give you a little time to sleep in,” Havers reasoned. “I’ll keep the men quiet and occupied until then, I’m sure.”

“Quite unnecessary, Lieutenant, 10:00 hours is fine,” the Captain said. With every answer he provided for Havers, the words came out more painfully, more stilted. He could feel the anxiety rising through his chest, his brain coding over with the familiar fog he associated with an incoming ‘episode’ - as he always called them.

He’d suffered from his so-called ‘episodes’ since he was a young child and could easily recognise the warning signs: the creeping nauseous feeling of anxiety and tears, the slowing of his thoughts right down to a trickle, the restless desire to rock himself into a calmer state. He’d always snuck himself off alone, ever since he was young, never wanting those around him to catch on to his discomfort - peers, teachers, even his parents couldn’t see the true nature of his situation.

“Captain?” Havers had shifted away from the fire to stand in front of the Captain to look down at him. “Are you quite sure you’re alright? You’re looking a little peaky.”

The Captain nodded avoiding Havers’ worried gaze entirely. He gripped the sleeves of his nightshirt trying desperately not to embarrass himself with any uncontrollable movements that might inhibit him. His eyes were slammed shut to block out the iridescent glow of the lightbulb but the high pitched humming it produced was still permeating into his brain like sharp rods.

“Sir, you’re really beginning to scare me,” Havers said trying his hardest to stay calm. “Can you talk to me? What can I do? You can’t be well.”

The Captain shook his head being careful not to jostle his tender condition.

“Pen and paper!” Havers scrambled across to the Captain’s small wooden desk to grab supplies before thrusting a pencil into his hand and laying a notebook across his lap. The Captain’s hand faltered as he covered his ears, but then he put pencil to paper and wrote in scratchy, cursive lettering: “Light.”

“Would you like the light off?” Havers barely registered the Captain’s jerky nod before he made a heroic leap across the room to plunge the pair into darkness; the only light in the small bedroom was from the orangey glow of the fire Havers had meticulously built. The Captain was able to peel his eyes open to look at Havers who had taken up a kneeling position in front of him.

“Is that better for you?” The Captain nodded again gripping the pencil tight between his hands, knuckles turning white under the pressure. “What’s going on? You’re hiding, sir. Do not hide any pain you are feeling, I cannot help you if you are hiding.”

The Captain put pen to paper once again: “Too much.”

“Do not hide,” Havers said, watching as the Captain grimaced. “That’s actually an order, sir.”

The Captain finally gave in and allowed his   ‘episode’ to take over. His hand balled into a fist and shook violently beside head and he tried to curl in closer to himself. A low groaning noise was what disturbed Havers the most as he knelt before the Captain, reaching to rest his hands on the other man’s knees, fingertips burning through the Captain’s trousers and straight into his pale skin.

“You’re going to be fine,” Havers murmured quietly. He moved with the Captain as he rocked slowly back and forth, trying to ease out the tension. “I’m not going anywhere until you’re okay, so just let it all out.”

The Captain snatched at the pencil and wrote in his wobbly script: “Here.”

“Here?” Havers queried. “What do you mean? A little more detail.” He watched the paper intently as the Captain scratched over it once more: “Come here.”

Havers scrambled up and threw himself down on the bed beside the Captain watching him closely.

“What do you need? Should I take hold of you, sir? Is that what you want?” Havers stammered. A sharp nod from the Captain. “Come here.” Havers curled his strong arms around the the Captain’s waist and pulled him tightly towards him, having long since noted the Captain’s dislike for soft touch. The Captain rested his disturbingly warm forehead against Havers’ shoulder and allowed himself to accept the comfort he had so desperately needed. With his eyes screwed shut and face buried deep into Havers’ warmth, the Captain took a few shuddering breaths and felt the anxiety flow through his body and straight out of every point of contact he shared with Havers, as if the man was reaching in and drawing it all out from deep inside him.

“Was it this week?” Havers asked. “Was it too much? I can’t quite imagine how difficult it all must have been but you’re back now, back here where everything is exactly the way it should be, yes? Nothing out of place, just us and the men and our work. That’s better for you, isn’t it?” The Captain had never quite experienced understanding like Havers’. He’d long understood that Havers knew more about him than anyone else ever had but to have picked up on the Captain’s vulnerabilities so deftly and be able to work him through them unlike anyone else: that took something different - a different level of relationship the Captain couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“You should sleep,” Havers mumbled, his warm breath tickling behind the Captain’s ear. Havers began to manoeuvre away, pulling the Captain with him slightly to manhandle the bedsheets around his shoulders. “Come on, it is rather late.”

The Captain allowed himself to be pushed down onto the soft material, combined with the vacant feeling in his head and the warmth of the hot water bottle he’d laid to rest on his chest, he could almost feel himself floating away. Havers tempered the fire before diligently returning to the Captain’s side.

“Are you warm enough, sir? Do you need more blankets? Something to drink?” Havers fussed, rearranging pillows and smoothing down the sheets. The Captain shook his head but reached for his paper and pencil anyway, hoping to catch Havers attention once more before he disappeared back to this own quarters down the hall, leaving the Captain in the silence he had been craving only an hour, silence that didn’t seem so tempting now.

He wrote, more clear and cohesively this time: “Stay.”

“With you?” Havers stammered out. But late at night and in a vulnerable state, neither cared for the implications of the Captain’s request - even the uptight and overly cautious CO found himself lazily pulling back the covers for Havers to slip in.

Reaching out into the darkness, Havers pulled the Captain close again, close enough to be practically laying on top of him, long limbs dangling over him like a dog that had grown slightly too large for its owner. He settled them both back into the pillows and ran a loose hand down the back of the Captain’s shirt, smoothing over the material and allowing his hands to linger on the small of his back. Finally letting his eyes fall into comfortable rest rather than the squeezed-shut tension they had been before, the Captain further relaxed into Havers and curled into the strong and muscular arms holding tight around him.

“Sleep now,” Havers murmured low and deep into his ear, sending a shiver down the Captain’s spine. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Taking in one final deep breath before sleep overcame him, the Captain whispered into the dark, safe space Havers had helped create for him: “Thank you.”

[iamvegorott]

A New Life Ch. 8

Too Many Names

Illinois woke up with a painfully dry mouth. He kept his eyes closed as he blindly reached around for one of the several water bottles sitting on the end table. He managed to open it up and then drank the whole thing in one go, gasping for air when he finished. Illinois rubbed his face with both hands and then started patting around the bed, trying to find Yancy. 

“Yanc?” Illinois’ voice came out hoarse, making him clear his throat. “Yanc?” He tried again, a little clearer this time. Illinois noticed the mess that was the blankets and decided to look over the edge of the bed, holding back a laugh when he finally found Yancy. 

Yancy was on the ground, stomach down, head to the side with his mouth wide open as he slept, little hums coming from him as he breathed, showing that he was still asleep. Illinois smiled and crawled off of the bed and laid on the ground next to Yancy, noticing that his movement had started waking Yancy up. 

“Wha-” Yancy scrunched his face up. 

“Morning~” Illinois sang.

“No.” Yancy turned his head to the other side. 

“If you’re going to sleep in, at least be on the bed.” Illinois sat up and crossed his legs, poking at Yancy’s side. 

“D-Don’t.” Yancy tried to hold back a giggle. 

“What was that?” Illinois kept poking at Yancy. 

“Stop!” Yancy rolled over to his back. 

“Gotta make sure you’re up.” Illinois crawled over and sat on top of Yancy, going full force into tickling him. 

“Ah! I’m awake! I’m awake!” Yancy slapped at Illinois’ arms, laughing loudly. 

“Morning.” Illinois stopped his hands, leaned down, and grinned.

“Yous a shit,” Yancy said.

“You’re right.” Illinois winked. 

“I…” Yancy found himself losing what he was going to say. He placed a hand on Illinois’ chest and felt his face get warm when Illinois took that hint and moved in closer. “Hey.” 

“Hey.” Illinois waited a second before going down all the way and pressing his and Yancy’s lips together. 

Yancy had his other hand go to Illinois’ chest as well, telling Illinois he wanted more and was comfortable. Illinois had his own hands go to Yancy’s waist and give it a little squeeze, tilting his head and silently telling Yancy to part his lips with his tongue. Yancy’s hands curled up and a little whimper came from him when he did what he was told. 

“You’re adorable,” Illinois said when he parted to let them catch their breath. 

“N-No I’m not.” Yancy’s face was bright red and he couldn’t keep his mouth closed as he panted.

“Sure you’re not.” Illinois went down for another kiss but paused when the door was knocked on. 

“Wilford?” Yancy asked.

“He wouldn’t knock.” Illinois got up and helped Yancy to his feet. Both of them went over to the door and opened it, not expecting to have to look down.

“More kids?” Yancy said, seeing two young boys in front of him. One stood in front of the other, bright purple hair and glazed over gray eyes, and the one behind him, who was much shyer had a tint of blue to his own hair with black eyes and strangle lines on his face. 

“You see dads?” The boy in front asked. 

“Dads?” Illinois asked. 

“My dads Chay and Mar and Blank dad is Mare.” The boy in front gestured as he spoke. 

“The parents,” Yancy said. “Chase and Marvin, right?” Yancy saw the boy nod his head. “And Mare is his, Blank’s, dad?”

“Yep!” The boy perked up. 

“And you are?” 

“Oh! I Robbie.” The boy pointed a thumb at himself. “I zombie.” 

“You’re...a zombie?” Yancy wasn’t sure if Robbie meant it literally or not, either would not shock him. 

“I Virus, like Ant.” Blank finally spoke, but stayed behind Robbie and was holding his arm. 

“Anti?” Yancy got another head nod. Illinois stayed back and watched Yancy interact with the kids, figuring that he was doing really good on his own and didn’t want to throw off the vibe. 

“You know where at?” Robbie asked. 

“Sorry fellas, but we hasn’t seen them yet. We just woke up.” 

“Okay! Let go ask Wilf.” Robbie took Blank’s hand and lead him down the hall. 

“I need coffee,” Illinois said. 

“Same.” Yancy slipped out of the room. 

“Hopefully we’re not missing anyone else. I don’t think I can keep track of any more names.” Illinois chuckled as they made their way to the kitchen. 

“Yous just jinxed us.” Yancy bumped Illinois with his hip. 

“Morning guys.” Illinois greeted Mad and Mare when he saw them. Mad was drinking from a fairly large glass with what looked like iced coffee in it and Mare had a mug himself. 

“Morning.” Mare greeted back while Mad just tilted his head, staring at them. 

“I’m guessing you crashed here last night?” Illinois asked. 

“Everyone did, there’s plenty of room here and it’s safer to keep everyone in one place when alcohol is involved,” Mare answered. 

“Is that why yous kid here?” Yancy asked, seeing Mare’s face change to worry. 

“He’s up? He shouldn’t be up.” Mare placed his mug down. 

“He’s in the hallways with Chase and Marvin’s kid.” 

“I was hoping they’d sleep in.” Mare sighed and headed out of the room. 

“Blank is-”

“I know,” Mare said to Phantom as he passed him. Yancy quickly looked away from Phantom when he realized he was only wearing an oversized shirt. 

“You know it’s proper to at least have some pants on when you’re at someone else’s home,” Mad said, finally snapped out of his staring. 

“It’s also not proper to get fucked in someone else’s house.” Phantom giggled while Mad clamped his lips together. “And boy, did I get fucked last night.” Phantom took the mug Mare was drinking from and took a sip himself. “Let me tell you about how Jackie-”

“We don’t want to hear it.” Mad cut Phantom off. 

“Then plug your ears because I am excited to talk about getting the life railed from me.” Phantom laughed loudly as Dark came into the kitchen. Phantom smirked and bounced up to sit on the counter, eyes on Dark as he went to the kettle he was next to. 

“Yes?” Dark said, not looking at Phantom. 

“Looks like I’m not the only one who had fun last night.” Phantom poked Dark’s neck, pointing out the several bruises that were there. 

“Don’t touch me.” Dark slapped Phantom’s hand away. 

“I forgot, only Anti can touch you~” Phantom tucked a leg up. 

“Shut up.” Dark pushed Phantom’s leg back down. “Don’t expose yourself more than you already are. 

“You mean like-” Phantom started to lift up the shirt but in a blink, Jackie was suddenly in front of him, hands on the shirt and keeping it down. 

“What the fuck?” Yancy fixed his hair that had been blown messy by a strange gust of wind. 

“Aw, you’re already possessive?” Phantom teased, wrapping his arms around Jackie’s neck. “Someone’s been wanting me longer than he’s let on~” 

“I-uh-we-we’re gonna-” Jackie grabbed Phantom and the two were gone, the same wind from before brushing by Yancy and Illinois. 

“Speed,” Dark answered before they could even ask. 

“I need bleach in my eyes.” Mad groaned and downed half of his coffee. 

“Do I need to tell Mare how fast you’re drinking that?” Dark said.

“Do I need to tell Edward how much sugar you’re using?” Mad said back.

“I feel like I’m watching one of those family shows on TV, but like, the more mature ones,” Yancy whispered to Illinois. 

“Hey, Darky~” Anti was now on the counter when Phantom had been before but at least he had pants on with his not-fitting shirt. “Oh, thought you’d be alone.” Anti popped his lips. 

“When are we ever alone?” Dark sighed. 

“I mean, last night-” Anti was cut off by Dark placing a hand over his mouth. “Darky, you’re supposed to have it here.” Anti lowered Dark’s hand to his throat. 

“I don’t want coffee anymore.” Yancy moved to leave and went face-first into a chest. 

“Sorry, didn’t think you’d be turning so fast.” Wilford chuckled. “How-” Wilford went to wrap an arm around Yancy’s shoulder but paused. “-may I?” 

“I-uh-yeah?” Yancy was not expecting him to ask permission. 

“How are we doing this morning?” Wilford grabbed Yancy’s shoulder and had him face the others. 

“Learning more about the others than expected or wanted,” Illinois said. 

“You’re just seeing the aftermath of a family gathering.” Wilford laughed. 

“I hope they don’t happen often,” Yancy muttered. 

“Well, now that Anti’s more in Dark’s favor, they might.” Wilford let Yancy go and went over to Dark and Anti. “We still on for our jobs today or do I need to make some calls?” Wilford asked Dark. 

“We’re still going as planned. Tell the others to meet in the room by noon and we’ll sort out from there.” Dark stated. “Have them be ready for the day as well, they are not to go on a job, they are just to observe the setup.” 

“Got it.” Wilford fired a finger gun and went right back over to Yancy and Illinois. “You heard the boss-man, get yourselves ready by noon and I’ll take you over to the meeting room. It’s time for you two to finally see what we do around here.” 

“Finally,” Illinois said and Yancy looked at Mad, who was once again watching them. Yancy turned away and joined Illinois at the coffee pot, he’ll ask about that later. 

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

Tag List: (let me know if you want added or if your name has changed) 

@rainymae523 @m0th-goo @windymischeif @voonespelle @ashywasteland93@its-miinty

[ladynoirelf]

Dark Crystal Tik-Tok challenge: Walking in naked on s/o

Deet to Rian:

Deet peered into the room she and Rian, her body dripped wet from her shower and warped in a fluffy towel. She smiled as she watched Rian playing on the computer, headphones on and sometimes yelling at the boys in the mic.

Taking a breath, she slowly opened the door. The creak of the wood grabbed Rian’s attention, looking up from his desktop he watched Deet saunter next to him.

“Oh, hello” he greeted, lifting his mic so his friends couldn't hear.

“Hi~”

“You uh...just take a shower”?

“Mmh-hmm~”.

“Oh… You gonna-”

The soft landing of the towel cut Rian’s sentence to a halt, leaving him to stare at the beautiful nude body of his beautiful gilly. His breath hitched as she slipped into his lap, Rian had to slam his computer shut just in case the cam was on.

“Hey! Rian what happened? You disappeared”. Gurjin asked through the mic.

“Can someone help the orphan please! I'm getting killed over here”! Kylan’s panicked screeching feel deaf to Rian’s ears as Deet started kissing up his juggalr.

“S-Sorry guys I have to um...handle somethingseyoulater”!

Rian ripped the headphones off his head, wrapped his arms around his girlfriend before ripping the power cord from his laptop to force it off and hurried to the bed with Deet giggling madly in his arms.

 Rian to Deet:

“Did you get the gift package I sent you”?

“Yes father, but you don't have to send one every month”.

Deet watched her father on the other side of the Crystal-holo do some dishes. 

“Yes, I do. I don't want you using too much of those surface products. Who knows what they use in them, I was just reading an article about how they use fizzgig dung in some of their skin ointments and they even use…”.

Deet drowned out her father at the clicking of the bathroom door opening. Knowing it was Rian coming out from his shower, she stayed on the couch absently nodding as her father droned on about dung products and bone marrow shampoo. 

Suddenly, a damp towel flew over her head!

Deet whipped her head to see Rian standing smugly in the nude with his hands on his hips.

Deet’s mouth opened and closed like a Hooyim out of water, her eyes unsure of where to look.

“...so that's one of many reasons to avoid-oh my. Well hello there Rian~”.

Both Shadowling and Woodling looked in mortification to see Lath’N looking impishly at the exposed bits of his daughter’s boyfriend in the corner of the screen.

“Is it chilly in the house son”?

“FATHER”!

Deet threw the retreating Rian a couch pillow before pushing the floating crystal back in its slot to end the call. 

“Om my Thra, I’m so embarrassed”.

“YOUR embarrassed”!? Rian popped his head in the living room, pillow pressed over his groin. “I can't show my face to your father again”!

Both could only groan in embarrassment and shame.

 Brea to Kylan:

Brea made sure that her fluffy towel was good and loose before tiptoeing through the kitchen to sneak behind her boyfriend on the couch. Kylan sat oblivious to her sneakery, tending to his virtual farm on his handheld console. Brea mentally counted three before flinging off her towel and plopping her bare breasts atop Kylan’s head.

“Crushing titter attack”!

“Gyaa! Brea”!

Kylan nearly had his eye poked with an ample nipple. Shocked by Brea’s undress, he swiftly removed the sweater he was wearing and wrapped her up in it.

“For Thra’s sake the windows are open”! Kylan cried, gently pushing Brea away from the living room.

“We live on the 25th floor”.

“You never know, there might be some pervert with a telescope trying to see in here”.

“So you don't like it”? Brea coyly pouted, batting her lashes as she moved the sweater so her chest brushed against a blushing Kylan.

“N-N-No, no,no I do like it. I really like it”. He stuttered, looking to the ceiling in habit. Unintentionally giving Brea access to his jugular where she trailed placed her sweet kisses.

“Let's go then”. She cooed

“G-G-Go”?

“Bedroom” she kissed his bobbing Adam's apple “right now please”.

“...Okay”. 

Kylan dreamily followed his humming princess, leaving his game unsaved and console to die of battery loss.

 Kylan to Brea:

Normally, Kylan would try to avoid the group's challenges that required him to get chased, flirt with strangers and get nude. And after hearing how Rian’s challenge went horribly wrong, Kylan was definitely uninterested. 

But, he would have been lying if he said he wasn't curious to see Brea’s reaction. Since she took the lead most of the time, he figured it would be quite a suprise.

Curiosity got the better of him and now here he was standing outside his and Brea’s bedroom wearing only a robe. Taking Rian’s caution to heart, Kylan made sure Brea was nowhere near a cam or crystal-holo. He peeked through the crack of the open door to see Brea reading on her side.

With no cam-quartz insight, Kylan took a calming breath. Then pushed open the door with such force it slammed into the wall as he threw his robe off!

Startled by the noise, Brea jerked up to see a shaking Kylan standing before her with his cock out.

…

…

“So-”. Kylan was cut off with the shuffling of the comforter as Brea sat up to tie up her hair in a messy bun. Her eyes eyeing her target right in between her boyfriend's legs.

Kylan yelped in surprise as Brea pounced on him, devouring him right there till sunrise.

 Mothria to Gurjin:

“Darling”.

“Get your head in the game fellas were almost there”!

“Darling”.

“Come Kylan hit harder buddy you got this”.

“Daaaaaarling”

“YEAHEHEH! EAT SOG YA BASTARDS”!

“Gurjin”!

Said gillon winced at his love’s booming call, though he couldn't say he didn't deserve it. He muted his mic before removing his headphones.

“S-Sory about that lovemoth, I got caught up in the-ooooh”.

Pouting with her arms crossed, long locs untied and flowing freely to the floor, and bare as the day she was born. Mothria huffed as she turned her back to her boyfriend, her hair nearly hitting his awestruck face.

“You said tonight was my night”. She whined “but you’ve just been playing with the boys”. 

“Im sorry, I'm sooo sorry Lovemoth. Here I'll turn it off right now, and then” Gurjin pressed his lips to her webbed ear “then I'll lavish you in attention, okay? You forgive me, Mothy”? Gurjin wrapped his arms around Mothria’s waist, trailing kisses from her shoulder up to her neck.

She looked up with sultry green eyes.

“You promise”?

Gurjin kissed her, hard “I promise”.

 Gurjin to Mothria:

Mothria just wanted to rest, that's all.

After long hours on the breeding farm and running errands for Grigor, a nice relaxing weekend indoors was all she needed. It helped that the forecast was cloudy and rainy, perfect staying and couch potato weather.

So she sat on the couch with the bola and spear channel on high with some “Peach berry” frozen cream. Taking a bit of her tart and sweet treat, she heard quite rustling behind her.

Knowing it to be Gurjin, she simply contented to watch the contestant prep for their throw.

“Mothyyyyyy”.

Mothria groaned, knowing what was coming.

“LoveMoothhhh”.

She just wanted to relax, sex with Gurjin when its raining was not relaxing. She mentally urged herself to keep ignoring him.

“Mothriaaaa~”.

“How can I help you”?

“Look behind you”.

“I'm watching something”.

“Please”.

“This is a really good match”.

“And I'm really good looking, look my way lovemoth”.

“Nah, not falling for it”.

Mothria’s smirk of victory quickly plunged when Gurjin moved to stand in front of the TV. Ready to go for a romp.

“...Can you at least wait until I finish my snack”?

“You have five minutes”.

[anonniemousefics]

Sleepless

So, Carry On Countdown 2020 is happening on Tumblr right now, and I’m not participating, but the other day @milo-fanarts posted that absolutely heart-wrenching fanart of Snowbaz based on the “Sleepless” prompt of the day, and I was seized with the need to write a ficlet based on it. Here’s the art - go give them a follow. :) 

Fandom: Carry On/Wayward Son | Simon + Baz

Words: 1,567 

Rating: Teen and Up 

CW: Angst (and fluff! :) )

BAZ

Sleeping with Simon Snow is weird. I don’t mean sleeping with sleeping with – we’re not ready yet. (Or, let’s be honest, he’s not ready yet. If I came home one day and he was ready, I’d be naked before the front door even finished closing behind me.)(It’s fine – he doesn’t need to know.) I just mean this. Simon Snow taking up half my bed, warm and snuggly, with his tousled bronze curls all in his freckled, sleeping face. His giant red wings casting enormous black shadows in the moonlight.

My entire family doesn’t have enough fingers and toes among them to keep count how many times I used to lie awake at night at Watford, aching to be this close to him. How many nights I’d think if I could just have this, I’d never ask for anything else for the rest of my life.

Turns out, I don’t seem to do much sleeping now that I have it, either. Maybe it’s just because we don’t do it very often. The logistics of sharing a bed with your partial-dragon boyfriend are complicated at best, and Simon’s a bit of a violent sleeper these days. I’ve taken a wingtip to the eye more than once. (And once is already one too many times.)

It’s also a little distracting how handsy my brain wants me to be. (I just – Crowley, I am the greediest bastard. I want to run my hands up and down the curves of his shoulder muscles. I want to trace all the freckles around his lips. I want to watch him fall asleep while I run my fingers through his hair.) I don’t think Simon’s ready for all my handsiness, either.

So, I’m staring. I’m still fucking staring. Like it’s sixth year all over again, and I’m back to fantasizing that if I stare long enough, I’ll somehow incept his dreams and convince him to break up with Agatha and give making out with boys a try. (Huh. Maybe it worked after all?)

And that’s what I’m doing when he starts twitching in his sleep. (This isn’t new. Sometimes he talks, too.)(The last time we tried this, he full on tried to punch me in the face in his sleep.)(I was a little wary when he’d expressed an interest in staying tonight.) I start to preemptively roll away, in case he starts fluttering his wings, because I’d rather have him jab me in the back than the eye (again).

But that’s when he whimpers, a high, plaintive sound that threatens to break a few heartstrings. I look over my shoulder at him.

He’s still deep asleep, but his arms are crossed in front of his bare chest (lucky me, he sleeps shirtless) and his tawny brows are drawn together tight. I’m gutted by the way he huddles in on himself. I just want to hold him. I start to roll back to him, but stop short at the sound of his wings shuddering. (It brings to mind the method cowboys in old Westerns use to soothe wild horses – whoa, there. Easy, big fella. Like that would work.)

I’m ready to ignore them altogether, though, when Simon lets out something that sounds like a distant cry. It’s haunting. It’s horrible. It can’t go on.

“Simon,” I whisper into the dark. I try to reach out a hand to nudge him, to gently wake him out of it, and when I do, he draws in a shuddering breath. And starts to moan out something that sounds like Help.

“Hey, wake up.” I’m more insistent now – rising up on an elbow, giving his sleep-warmed shoulder a little shake. “Snow, wake up.”

He draws in a rasping gasp then, his eyes flaring open. His wings rustle and flap; I hold out a defensive hand.

“You were dreaming,” I tell him. He’s panting hard and shaking. “It was just a dream.”

He folds his wings in, then, spreading out onto his back with one hand pressed to his chest. It’s rising and falling fast with his shallow breaths – it sounds cacophonous in the dead of the night.

“You’re okay.” I keep reassuring him. I just want to hold him. Before I can move, he grabs my arm, like he’s steadying himself. His hand is clammy. “It was just a dream.”

“Fuck.” He scrubs a hand over his face, pressing the heel of his palm into one eye. And lets out a shaking breath.

“What happened?” I ask. I wonder if my clear voice is betraying how little sleeping I’ve actually been doing.

For a moment, I think that Simon isn’t going to answer. Or he’s going to say, “It’s fine” or “I don’t remember” when neither is true. He’s going to try to tack up another wall between us, because that is what we do lately. He’s just pinching the bridge of his nose, squishing his eyes shut tight, and I feel like I’m drifting further out to sea.

But, this time, he lets out a breath.

“I killed him,” he says, in a strained whisper. He means the Mage. In the moonlight, I catch a glimpse of the first tear that leaks from the corner of his eye.

I brush it away with the pad of my thumb.

“You saved us all, love,” I remind him, softly. “He was going to kill Agatha. And probably you and me and Penny, and who knows where he would have stopped.”

“He’d always been so good to me,” Simon whispers, like he hates to admit it. I would, too, if I were him.

It’s a complicated thing, this grief he carries (or mostly avoids). I don’t mourn the Mage – there’s no one else I know who does. But it’s something else entirely for Simon. The Mage had appeared in Simon’s life with hope and promises and a whole new life when Simon desperately needed one. And while he knows the Mage had gone on to deal in some extremely shady shit, that’s not something a person just easily puts aside in light of new information.

“You did the brave thing,” I remind him. “You did the right thing.”

There’s a steady stream of tears now. I wipe them with the backs of my fingers – they’re scalding hot, like he’s been boiling them in a dragon’s belly.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks. He’s still gripping my arm with one hand, the other hand pressed to his eye. I don’t know what good this is doing, and I just…

“Don’t be daft,” I say. “Will you just come here?”

And I open up one arm – an invitation. He can turn me down if he wants – I’ve survived worse. (I just want to hold him.)

And maybe it’s the magic of the moonlight or dream inception is truly a thing or Simon’s for once willing to let me in. It doesn’t matter. He rolls over into my arms, his lean body on top of mine, his head pressed to my chest.

This. This. This is all I’ve ever wanted. Just this.

(Tears aside, of course.)

I pull him tighter against me when I feel the heat of his tears begin to wet my shirt. (I don’t actually sleep shirtless – I’m too cold all the time.) I push my fingers into his curls, press my head to the top of his. He’s trying so hard to keep from openly weeping, but little good it’s doing him – I can feel how his muscles contract with each sob.

I hold him through it.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks again.

“Would you stop apologizing?” He’s so warm beneath my cold hands. “You’ve seen me cry, too.”

“Yeah, once,” Simon complains, petulantly. “And it was so beautiful, I made out with your snotty face.”

That makes me chuckle, and the fact that my laughter makes Simon’s head bob up and down on my chest makes him start to give a sniffling laugh.

“I’ll make out with your snotty face,” I offer, and he laughs again. (And I will. I have no shame.)

“That’s okay,” he says, and raises his head a moment. Looks down at the bloom of damp tears on my white t-shirt. “Sorry I got your shirt all wet.”

I just shrug.

“I like it – it’s Simon Snow art,” I tease, and double over my chin so I can inspect it. “Look – it looks like you’ve made a flower.”  

“Oh, yeah?” He rests his head back on it, snug beneath my neck. Crowley, this is perfection. “You like wearing flowers now?”

“Maybe I do. Don’t you judge me, Snow.”

His chuckle rumbles through him and through me, too. I run my fingertips up the valleys of his back muscles. Slowly. Gently. Easy now. And his body starts to relax against me. I’m warmer than I’ve ever been in the night.

“Is this okay?” he whispers to me. I’m relaxing, too, growing heavy in the mattress. Comfortable. Soothed.

“It’s perfect,” I tell him, and press a kiss to his hair. He wraps his arms around me. He’s not going anywhere.

“Sorry in advance for drooling on you in my sleep,” he says as I’m starting to doze.

“Mmm. Sexy.” I grunt.

Snow laughs, and so do I – and again when his head bobs up and down with my laugh.

It’s the last thing I remember before finally falling off to sleep.

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

Tagging: @loveyatopluto, @raging-bisexual-alert, @ireallyshouldsleeprn, @annejulianneh111, @whosanxiety, @raeisgaeandahalf, @bookish-mind, @juliazato

[snowdice]

Finding the Time to Study Fic 2 [Day 14]

Here is my starting post for today’s study break stories session. See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. I’ll be constantly looking for ideas of times and places for Janus to have missions, so feel free to send in any you can think of at any point!

If you are a new follower or just don’t want all of these posts clogging your dash, please feel free to block the tag “study break stories” as all posts and voting about it will go there. You can still see the finished product of the story even if you are blocking that tag as I will not tag the edited chapters with “study break stories” but with the tag “folds in paper.” See edited chapters below. Chapters 3, 4, 5, and what I have of chapter 6 are under the cut.

My Masterpost Part 1 Part 2

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted). It’s short, and not really for serious listening, but I had fun with it.

I have like 4-5 hours of busy work to do today. So, pls keep me entertained.

Chapter 3

Janus and Remus both appeared at the same moment a couple of feet apart in what looked like the inside of a garden shed. There was already a man waiting for them a few feet away. “Sup babes,” Remy said, just like he always did. The T-Agent looked their costumes up and down and whistled. “Now that,” he said, “almost makes me want to be one of you time jockeys.”

“They wouldn’t let me have a gun or a canister of moonshine,” Remus pouted.

Remy snorted. “Sorry, babes, but that makes my job a lot easier. If I’ve gotta fish you outta the 1920s criminal justice system, I’d rather it not be because you shot someone on accident ‘cause you don’t know how to use the safety.”

 Remus groaned dramatically. “Everyone is lame.”

Remy just shook his head. “Meet back here when you’ve got the necklace,” he said. “Don’t make a move until after 11:05pm and before 11:17. That’s your window.”

“We know,” Janus said. “See you then.”

“Have fun at the party boys,” Remy said and then lowered his shades to look at Remus, “but not too much fun.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Remus, already towing Janus out of the garden shed. The way had been specifically cleared for them, so they met no other people before they’d rounded the house the party was taking place and had gotten onto the driveway in front of the house.

 Without missing a beat, they strolled up to the front of the house, just as a car pulled into the end of the driveway. Janus rang the doorbell, and a few moments later, a man who was clearly the butler answered the door. They handed over their invitation, and the man immediately let them in.

The party had already started when they slipped into the medium sized ballroom that had been decked out in streamers and other decorations. Janus’s nose immediately wanted to scrunch as the smell of sweat from all the dancing already going on as well as the too strong perfume meant to cover that stench wafted over him. It was by far not the worst smelling time period, but he was pretty sure some people still weren’t aware deodorant had been recently invented.

 He checked his time piece which had been disguised as a fancy wristwatch for this trip. “Okay,” he said. “We have about two hours before we need to make our move. We should…”

Remus’s attention was already being dragged away by a young man who seemed to be providing guests with food. “I’m going to go ‘mingle’,” he said, winking.

“No!” Janus hissed. “Re- Richard! No!”

Yet, he was already disappearing into the horde of stinky bodies, likely to go scandalize a bunch of rich folks, and leaving Janus alone. Janus mumbled a curse under his breath that he was sure no one around him would understand even if they could make it out.

 Unsure what to do with himself, he wandered over towards where the live musicians were playing jazz music, being sure to keep out of the way of the dancers. He was edging around the makeshift dancefloor, when one of said dancers must have misstepped and knocked into another one. The second man stumbled right towards Janus, arms pinwheeling. Janus reached out on instinct to catch the man as he fell.

There was a moment where the two of them just stared at each other, surprise evident on the other man’s face. He was wearing a mask that just covered the area around his eyes and the top of his nose, revealing a smattering of freckles across his cheeks that Janus imagined extended to his nose.

 The mask was a light blue velvet with a flower stuck on the side near his right ear, and a trail of curled golden ribbon bobbed down around his chin. The party continued on around them, a blur of movement and sound.

“Are you alright?” Janus asked.

The man blinked up at him and then tilted his head slightly to the side as though confused, before a smile slowly grew on his face. “Oh, I’m fine Dove.”

“Dove?” Janus asked.

He giggled. “You have dove feathers on your mask,” he explained, reaching up a hand to touch one. His finger brushed the tip of Janus’s ear, “and I don’t know what else I am supposed to call you.”

 “My name is Lee,” he automatically lied.

“Is it?” he asked, sounding amused. “Doesn’t seem to fit you well. I like Dove better.”

“Oh?” asked Janus. “And what’s your name so I can not call you that?”

The man chuckled. “Call me Pat.”

“Hello Pat,” Janus said.

“I thought you didn’t want to call me by my name.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Hmmm,” Pat said, finger tracing idly across Janus’s forearm which was when Janus realized with a start that he was still holding the man in his arms. He quickly went to release him, which Pat allowed with clear amusement.

 Yet, instead of completely stepping away, Pat grabbed Janus’s arm. “What are you doing all the way over here by the way?” he asked. “Don’t you want to dance.”

“Oh,” Janus hesitated. “I don’t really dance.” Or at least not in the way the people around him were. He’d had basic training for this style, but it had been a while and he was a bit rusty.

“Everyone dances Dove,” Pat claimed. “At least if they know the steps and have the right partner.”

“But I don’t know the steps,” Janus said with an eyebrow raise.

He hummed. “Well, I know the dance pretty well by this point,” Pat said. “Why don’t I teach you how it goes.”

 He was agreeing with the soft beseeching tone before he even realized it. Pat pulled him into the middle of the throng of people. He seemed to think, bopping his head to the music playing for a moment, before looking back at Janus. “Heard of James Johnson?”

Janus inclined his head.

“Well, have you heard his new song? Because there’s a dance that goes with it.”

He took a few steps away from Janus and started to dance. Despite his claim to know the steps, he wasn’t particularly good, but he made up for any loss of rhythm with pure enthusiasm.

 Janus found himself smiling at the man, and after a few moments, joined in with the dance. Despite his lack of practice, he ended up having a better natural rhythm than Pat. Pat didn’t seem to mind that he was being outperformed, however. On the contrary, he giggled at himself the couple of times he stumbled.

When he fell into Janus’s arms for the second time that night, Janus decided he’d probably had enough dancing for the moment and pulled him off to the side to get something to drink and cool down a bit.

He watched the man take a snack and some punch from one of servers and thank him happily before turning back to Janus. Pat was easily able to keep Janus’s attention as they chatted. He was bubbly and soft, and Janus found himself enchanted as they talked.

 He was explaining the steps of a different dance, a couples one. “Knowing how to perform the tango will entrance any girl you want,” Pat said, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. “Assuming you’re that type of fella.”

“As opposed to what?” Janus asked.

Pat leaned in a bit closer. Not too much, but enough that he was definitely in Janus’s space. “A different type of fella,” he said simply, before smiling and leaning back.

Janus let out a shaky exhale and took a sip of punch. He glanced over at Pat. “Tell me about yourself, Pat,” he said.

Pat hummed in contemplation. “Well, I went to France recently.”

 “You did?”

“Oui, c'était amusant, mais j'ai eu des ennuis”

“What kind of trouble?” Janus asked curiously.

“Oh, the kind with a pretty boy and crepes that were way too sweet. Anyway,” he continued. “Other than that, I mostly help out my friend. He’s an inventor.”

“And how do you help him.”

He shrugged, “Running errands mostly, and making sure he gets enough sleep, because otherwise he gets distracted and forgets. And you?”

“I’m a banker,” he said, remembering his cover, but felt compelled to add, “but I like to travel as well.”

“You do look the type?”

“And how is that?”

   Pat shrugged. “I can always tell a wandering spirt from the masses, and you are easy to spot.” Pat looked at him then with a secret smile on his face, and Janus felt suddenly known, like the man in front of him had known him for years even though they’d only just met. Looking at him then, he wanted suddenly for that to be fact and not a flight of fancy.

He was brought firmly back to reality in the next moment. “Lee,” a pointed and familiar voice said. Janus’s head snapped up to see Remus, staring at him. He tapped his wrist. Janus glanced at his own wrist: 10:58pm. He just barely managed not to curse.

 “I,” he said looking up at Pat. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

“That’s okay,” Pat said easily. “It is getting rather late.”

“Yes,” Janus agreed. “Well… goodbye.”

Pat, titled his head, a half smile on his face. “I’ll be seeing you around.”

Janus nodded, and turned away from him towards Remus. He didn’t look back as they excited the ballroom. They snuck into a small side closet for coats that wasn’t being used as it was summer.

“So,” Remus said when the door closed behind them.

“Don’t,” warned Janus.

“I’m not one to judge,” Remus said.

“Shut up.” He glanced at his watch. It was 11:02. “We’ll go in 5.”

 “I have to give it to you. He was very cute.”

“We’re not talking about it.”

Remus just laughed joyfully, and Janus did his best to halt the blood rushing to his cheeks.

At 11:07, well into their window, they slipped back out of the closet, and towards the stairs as the party raged on.

Despite how Remus usually never shut up, he was able to be quiet when it counted. They snuck to the master bedroom of the home’s owners in silence. The door was already wide open by the time they got there, and Janus didn’t think anything of it. At least, he didn’t until they entered the bedroom, and there was someone already there.

 He turned from the dresser he’d been standing in front of to face them, sending Janus the same smile he had down in the ballroom. Janus and Remus both froze. “Sorry, sweetie,” Pat said. “Were you here for this too?” he held up the necklace they’d been sent for. He closed his fist around the charm made out of time travel tech.

“What?” Janus said.

Pat giggled and winked. “Unfortunately, I need it a bit more than you at the moment. So, I’m gonna have to go.” Janus stepped forward, not really sure what he was intending to do, but Pat just smiled. “See you some other time, my Turtle Dove.” With a snap of his fingers and loud crack, he disappeared. The mask he’d been wearing fluttered to the ground.

  Arc I: Finding Cinderella

Chapter 4

Janus was frozen in surprise for a few long moments after Pat disappeared. Which had been, admittedly, his mistake, because, while their window had technically been until 11:17pm and it was only 11:10, the loud crack that whatever Pat had been using for time travel made, garnered the attention of someone else.

“Uh oh,” Remus said, likely hearing footsteps. “Hide.”

That snapped Janus into action, but instead of hiding immediately like a sensible human being, he chose to go for the only link to the man who’d just stolen time travel tech and waltzed away, the mask.

Which was why he ended up getting arrested.

 Remy tsked the moment they were all alone in the police car having come to ‘transfer Lee to another facility.’ Remus was already waiting in the front seat, and flashed Janus a smug smile. If Janus wasn’t still handcuffed, he’d slap him.

“Well,” Remy said. “At least you didn’t shoot anybody like I asked. I was joking by the way. I didn’t really want to pick you up from a 1920s police station period.”

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“Mmm, nah, ‘cause Remus managed to not get arrested this time, so you defiantly screwed something up.”

“Oh, he defiantly wanted to screw something all right,” Remus said joyfully.

 “Remus,” Janus hissed.

“What?” he asked. “I’m not the horny one for once. Well, no, that’s a lie, but it didn’t affect the job this time.”

Janus groaned and leaned his head back against the seat.

Remy pulled into a seemingly random garage around 20 minutes later. “Alright,” he said. “Here we are.” He got out of the car and then helped Janus out before uncuffing him. “Here’s your ‘watch,’” Remy handed him the timepiece that had been confiscated when he’d been arrested.

Janus put it on and activated it. “Shit,” he said.

“What?” Remus asked.

“An appointment with cultural outreach has already been downloaded to my calendar for once we get out of decon.”

 “Oof. Going to baby jail,” Remy laughed. Remus was cackling.

“This,” Janus said, “was not a cultural faux pas. I did nothing that indicated that I was not from this time. I am not some rookie.”

“Don’t forget cell phones don’t exist in the 1920s,” Remus sang.

“The real question is whether or not my foot exists in your…” Remus disappeared before he could finish, a smirk on his face. Janus growled. “By Remy,” he gritted out. He selected the decontamination chamber from his queue, ignoring the appointment that came after it for now.

He knew exactly where Remus would be standing when he landed, which was why he stepped forward on reentry to ram into him.

 He yelped in surprise. “Sorry,” Janus said pleasantly. “I must have also forgotten landing procedures.

Remus laughed good naturally. “Aw, come on Jay,” he said, bumping Janus back, albeit much gentler than Janus had been. “It’s not a big deal. You just go talk with some crusty old college professor who is far too interested in spoons and then everything’s fine.”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” he growled. “They’re treating me like I’m an idiot who accidently invented disco in the 1920s when I was conned by some free agent time traveler.”

“‘Conned,’ Remus said. Is that what they’re calling it now?”

 “I know where and when you live Remus,” Janus said.

Remus gave him a dopey smile as the decontamination cycle finished and the door unlocked. Janus’s wrist buzzed telling him that the coordinates to the cultural outreach office were now unlocked. Instead of pulling them up, Janus walked to the door.

“Um,” Remus said, following him. “Aren’t you supposed to be going to your appointment?” Janus just kept walking towards their office. “Uh… Jan?”

“It’s absolutely ridiculous that I have to go to cultural outreach,” Janus said. “In fact, no one can make me. If they want me to go have a discussion about the definition of ‘bushwa,’ they’re going to have to have me dragged there.”

 “Mmm, I feel like The Boss won’t be too happy about that, and I have a feeling she’d be 100% down to dragging you there herself.”

“Well, then, let her,” Janus said, stalking through the door to his office. “I’m not going to…”

“Ah, Agent Picani,” the woman standing next to his desk, clearly waiting for him, said when he came through the door. “Dr. Picani was informed that there were complications with your last mission and wishes to have a conversation with you and asks that you meet him in his office at the AMO.”

“Oh, um,” Janus said, stumbling a bit before plastering on a regretful half smile. “Unfortunately, I actually have an appointment right now at Cultural Outreach. It’s mandatory and very important, and I have to go now. So, I’ll have to take a raincheck on that.”

 “But-” she started, frowning.

“Remus, work on the report!” Janus said quickly as he waved his hand to bring up his timepiece display and jammed his finger at the glowing appointment card in his queue. A few moments later, Janus was at Cultural Outreach.

Cultural Outreach was not part of the TPI, though it often worked very closely with them. It was a collaboration between the government and multiple universities to help government workers, politicians, and other citizens understand and bridge cultural gaps. It had existed before time travel was invented but had expanded to also teach people who needed to time travel how to behave in unfamiliar times and cultures.

 After it had to be expanded to provide for the TPI, it had been moved to Silver Mountains University. The building had once just been a museum, but it had been thoroughly renovated and there had been add-ons for office space and some classrooms. It was still a museum, however, its purpose had expanded greatly and there were many areas that were off limits to the general public.

One of these areas was the fourth floor, where Janus’s timepiece had dumped him. This was the floor that was almost exclusively for TPI agents and staff of Cultural Outreach who worked with them.

 He immediately turned away from the reception area, hoping that he could escape and go sit on the university’s quad or something of the like for the next hour or so in hopes the woman his brother sent to fetch him would give up and go back to the AMO. Yet, the receptionist apparently saw him.

“Janus Picani?” he asked.

Janus grimaced and turned back towards him. “Yes,” he said.

“Is something wrong?” he asked. “You’re 5 minutes late for your appointment and seem disoriented.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Is your timepiece malfunctioning?”

“No.”

“Uh… okay. Well, if you sign in here, I can take you to your appointment.”

“…Fine.”

 He begrudgingly stepped forward and touched the screen he’d gestured to sign with his fingerprint, and then let the man lead him down the hall.

The door they stopped at was propped open slightly, but he still paused and knocked. “Professor Eran? Your 2:30 is here.”

Janus had just a moment upon hearing the name to think that maybe there was actually some sort of intelligent design of the universe and whatever being of ultimate power had crafted it was a dick.

The door opened and Virgil Eran’s eyes immediately narrowed on him. “Janus.”

“Virgil.”

“I see you’re still late for everything.”

“I see you’re still a bastard.”

 Janus saw the receptionist slowly back away in the direction they’d come.

“Why don’t you come in?” Virgil said faux pleasantly.

Janus did, because he really didn’t have much of a choice at this point unless he wanted to jump out of a window… or push someone out of a window.

Virgil turned back into his office and took a seat behind his desk. Janus unhappily followed him in and sat across from him.

He took his time pulling up whatever the TPI sent him and reading it over. “So, I see you failed your recovery mission and were arrested in 1923.”

 “It wasn’t like that,” Janus said. “I shouldn’t be here.”

Virgil gave him that same suspicious look he used to give Janus whenever Janus claimed to have not eaten his hot pockets out of the freezer in the middle of the night. He’d only been lying 80% of the time. Virgil had a tendency to forget what he’d eaten in a half-conscious state at 3 o’clock in the morning.

“I shouldn’t,” Janus snapped defensively. “Nothing went wrong with anyone from the time period. An illegal time traveler screwed up the mission details.”

“Well, it is still protocol to make sure nothing slipped when agents go off script. You weren’t prepared to be in a jail cell, and it is possible that you screwed something up.”

 “I didn’t screw anything up,” Janus growled.

“Alright,” Virgil said pulling up a document on his desk. “The mission started on July 27th, 1923 at 9:58pm, correct?”

“Oh, god, we’re not really going to fill out a time sheet. I don’t have time for that today.”

“It is protocol and best that the information is documented when it is still fresh in your mind. Besides, your schedule has been cleared for the rest of the workday.” The bastard was enjoying this. He knew how much Janus hated this stuff.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Janus said, “it was the damned illicit time traveler.”

“And I will be the judge of that,” Virgil said. Janus should have just bit the bullet and had coffee with his brother. “If you truly did nothing wrong, your supervisor will see that when I send this to her.”

 Yet, despite the fact that Virgil clearly relished in his suffering, he was charitable enough to do most of the actual filling out of the forms. He’d read out the questions and write down what Janus said instead of making him do it himself. Janus really only had to do a quick quality check and sign it at the end.

He still was an asshole about the details, but really he’d been like that about stupid thing like the settings for the dish washer and how the pantry was organized during their college days before they’d had their falling out, so Janus wasn’t particularly surprised. When they were finally done, Virgil sent it off to get filed by the TPI.

 Then, they were left staring at each other with nothing between them but almost a decade of radio silence and a whole lot of awkwardness.

“I should go,” Janus finally said, standing up.

Virgil tilted his head slightly to the side and gave him a half smile. “Don’t lock the door behind you,” he said. “Not that I’d expect you too.”

Janus took it for the clear attempt at a joke it was intended to be and puffed out a breath of amusement with a head shake. “No risk of that,” he said. Then, he turned and walked out of the office.

 Chapter 5

Janus stepped back into the reception area and booted up his time piece. Instinct said to go back to the office despite the fact that it was late enough that most people had gone home, but he hesitated. Surely Emile had given up by now, but considering he’d sent someone to ambush him in his office, Janus wasn’t sure if he should trust that. He could just go home, but he already knew his mind was racing too much to sleep tonight so he’d probably just end up staring at the lake for the next 6 hours. So, he decided on the only other legitimate option he had. He pulled up Remus’s home coordinates and selected.

 The home that Remus had chosen (after his long line of rejected requests) managed to somehow make no and absolute sense simultaneously to anyone who knew him. It was a small farm in the United States just west of the Mississippi in 1842 in what would be ratified as the state of Iowa in a few years. When asked why he would choose that time and place, Remus always responded with “I thought it was funny,” whatever that meant.

Unlike most time agents who simply used the identities assigned to them by the AMO as a cover, Remus actually lived his part time.

 Janus was… fairly certain he was cheating a bit to get everything done, but he maintained his small farm all on his own, growing most of his own food. The neighbors he had lived very far away, but he still spoke with them far more than Janus did his own.

Janus appeared inside the small home, his eyes already shut. “Are you hear and dressed?” Janus called. Something bumped lightly into his legs.

“I’m in the kitchen!”

Janus peaked his eyes open and squatted to pet the cat at his feet. “That doesn’t answer my question!” he called back to Remus.

 “It’s a surprise!” Remus said.

“Remus.” Diesel Fuel the cat flopped to her side on the ground as Janus continued to pet her ears. He heard Remus’s footsteps, and saw cloth covering his legs, so risked looking up. He was currently not only dressed, but wearing an apron that Janus was fairly sure was not time appropriate judging by the fabric and cat pawprint design. He had a bit of flour on his hands, and it may have been a bit too white for the time and place, but Janus couldn’t be completely sure.

“What’re you doing here?” Remus asked.

 “My day has been an endless series of frustrations,” Janus said. “So, I have come to see the only tolerable being in the history of the universe.”

Remus snorted. “Since I know that isn’t me, I’ll assume you’re talking about the cat.”

“I still don’t understand why you tolerate this creature,” Janus addressed Diesel Fuel. She blinked slowly up at him. “To be fair, he was assigned as my partner. I didn’t have much of a choice in it. You could go always run away and become feral in the woods if you’d like.”

“So could you, technically,” Remus pointed out.

“I’m thinking about it after today.”

 “Would you like some bread?” Remus asked. “That’s all I’ve been making this afternoon. Some fresh should be coming out of the oven in a few minutes.”

“Do you have anything stronger made out of wheat?”

“Ew, no, but I do have vodka.”

“Vodka works.”

“Want me to mix it with something?”

“No.”

“One of those night then,” Remus said, easily. “Let me finish up the bread, so I don’t burn the kitchen down. You can go get the alcohol from the cellar while you wait if you want, or you can just flop down on the couch.”

He was going to just flop down on the couch.

 He did just that as Remus disappeared back into his kitchen. The cat hopped onto his stomach, proceeding to purr loudly and kneed at chest. Janus petted the cat and listened to the noise of Remus moving around in the other room, letting his mind drift. His mind drifted to Virgil for a bit and he steadfastly did not allow it to drift to his brother. Yet, the thing that most was on his mind was the strange man who had flirted and charmed Janus all night before mercilessly screwing him over. ‘Pat’ he’d said his name was, but surely that was not his real name.

 Janus sighed and scratched the cat’s ear. “He certainly wasn’t an amateur,” Janus mused to the cat. “With that amount of precision to get in before we did, he must have someone not on the ground feeding him information. Perhaps more than one.” He was part of a group of time traveling thieves perhaps or something worse. “I didn’t get a good look at his face since he was wearing a mask,” Janus said, “but I spent a lot of time with him, and I’m sure Remy swiped the mask from the police since it had been on me when I was arrested. It’s a good lead.”

 He continued to pet Diesel Fuel. Eventually, Remus came back in, noticed Janus hadn’t bothered to get the alcohol and went outside to the cellar. “I’m going to find him,” Janus told Diesel Fuel. “I’ll stop whatever it is he’s doing, and I’ll bring him in.” Diesel Fuel mewed her support, and Janus patted her on top of the head.

Remus came back in with the bottle of vodka and handed it to him without a word. He sat down on the couch near Janus’s feet and patted his lap so Diesel Fuel would come over to him and allow Janus to sit up.

 The bastard waited until he was approximately 3 shots in (he didn’t have a shot glass and was just taking drinks from the bottle) to ask the questions Janus really didn’t want to answer. “Are you mad at Emile?” Remus asked.

Janus groaned, trying to wash out the bitter taste of shame and grief with the sharp sting of vodka. It didn’t work. “No,” he said to Remus.

“Then why have you been avoiding him?”

“Shit, I’m here because I didn’t want to think about it. Can’t we just not.”

“Don’t want to think about what?

“It’s none of your business, Remus.”

 He could feel Remus frowning at him, but Janus stared resolutely ahead. At least, he did until a foot poked his face. He slapped it away, but it did the job of getting Janus to look at Remus.

“It is my business,” Remus said, foot still in the air. “I’m your partner and your friend.”

“If I’m your friend, you’ll drop it.”

“So, you’re not mad at Emile,” Remus continued, contemplatively. “Did you do something to him, then?” Janus bit his lip and looked away. “What?” Remus asked. Janus didn’t respond. “Look, I’m sure he’ll forgive you for whatever it is. He’s a good guy. Just talk to him about it.”

 “I can’t,” Janus said.

“Whatever it is, it’s probably been long enough that he forgives you. You literally just have to have a conversation, say you’re sorry, and everything will be A-OK.”

“I can’t,” Janus repeated.

“Why not?”

“He doesn’t know about it.”

Remus paused. “So, as far as he knows, you just cut contact with him all of a sudden for no reason and have been avoiding him ever since?”

Janus looked at his shoes. “Yeah.”

“That…” Remus said, “is not fucking fair Janus.”

“I know.”

“Then why the hell are you doing that to him? He’s like… soft and feeling-y. He’s probably really upset.”

 “I know, Remus.”

“Tell him. Whatever it is.”

“I can’t.”

“Look,” Remus said. “You tell him and he either forgives you or he doesn’t. If he does, everything’s fine. If he doesn’t… well, it’s not like it would be any different from you two never being in the same room the last few years. Either way, you can’t just do this to him. He’ll probably forgive you. He’s your brother. Brothers don’t… brothers would forgive each other.”

Janus laughed softly and met Remus’s eyes. “That’s the problem,” he said. “He’d definitely forgive me.” He turned away and opened the vodka bottle again. “Now, if you’ll shut up for a few minutes, I’m going to drink until I black out.”

 Chapter 6

“Really, Khalid,” Janus said, storming into his boss’s office. “A yellow?” It had been about a week since the 1920s incident, and his incident report had finally been cleared. Sure, it wasn’t a red or a black and he wasn’t facing any reprimand, but it should have been a green.

She looked up at him, clearly unconcerned. “There was an incident,” she said. “You handled it well, but there was one. Therefore, yellow.”

“It wasn’t a time travel incident! It was a rouge time traveler.”

“Janus, you helped me make these rules,” she said impatiently.

“Which is why I know this is bullshit,” he snapped.

 She rolled her eyes. “If it was anyone else, you would agree with me. While you didn’t go against protocol and had no time related incidents, the fact of the matter is, you were still distracted by this ‘rouge time traveler,’ didn’t complete your mission, and were arrested.”

“He was good,” Janus said. “You can’t fault me for that. He also could be dangerous and you’re busy handing out yellows instead of working to track him down.”

She raised an eyebrow. “We are working on tracking him down,” she said. “We have done an analysis on the mask and found fibers dating to the 2010s and some DNA. Though it isn’t exactly a high priority.”

 “We have no idea who he is or what he’s planning to do. Why is that not a high priority thing?”

“At the moment?” she asked. “Because we have reports of a time bomb being activated.”

“What?” Janus asked sitting up. “When?”

“New Years Eve going into the year 3,000 in Brazil,” she said. “Which you’d know about if you’d bothered to check your integration port this morning before storming into my office.”

“It’s my mission?” Janus asked.

“The incident investigation is over and your active again despite the dreaded yellow,” she said, clearly making fun of him a bit. “So, yes, and it’s a high priority mission, so I’ll be running it.”

 “Who all is going?” he asked.

“Other than the two of us, Remus, Lena, and Fred,” she told him. “We leave in three hours, so, you might want to run off to Rhi before Fred gets to her and ties her up for an hour on details.”

Janus nodded and got to his feet. He turned back at the door. “I still don’t deserve the yellow,” he hissed.

She waved him off. “I’ll see you in a few hours, Picani.”

He ground his teeth a bit about the dismissal of his worries, but his resentment was slightly soothed by the fact that she’d assigned him to go on such a high priority mission and with only senior agents.

 He took the advice and grabbed Remus from the office, noting Lena hadn’t been able to wrangle Fred yet as she was still at her desk, and they both headed off to see Rhi.

A few hours later, they were all in decontamination together, decked out in truly god-awful costumes. The turn of the third millennia had been a wild event, and the best way to fit in was to look like you’d grabbed something from every century in recorded human history, dyed it in neon paint, and rolled around in a vat of glitter.

Remus had opted to stick his head in a vat of glow in the dark green paint that costuming had offered them, and it wasn’t even going to be slightly disruptive to their covertness.

 In fact, costuming had frowned when Janus had insisted he not get his hair dyed and instead wore a bowler hat. They had required him to have flowers made out of glitter on it.

There were five people waiting for them when they landed 6 hours before the turn of the millennia. Three were touchdown agents, including Remy, and two were on location tech support. Usually it would be overkill to have that many people there just for support even with five agents in the field, but today the TPI needed to be cautious because they were planning on instituting a time lock.

Time bombs were dangerous things that would ripple through time if not contained. Even if it did end up going off (killing everyone in its reach), the time lock would serve to prevent most damage outside of the city and, more importantly, the year it was planted.

 Janus had only been in two time locks before, and he was one of the most senior agents in the TPI, outranked only by the founder: Lia Khalid. Time locks were designed to keep all time linear in a certain fixed time and geographical area as well as prevent any time travel in and out. Once it was engaged, all forms of time travel would not work for the duration, bar the pin device. Khalid was already switching out her regular timepiece with the slightly bigger one that was designed to support the time lock.

There was a failsafe back at the TPI that could be engaged in an emergency, which was why tech support was here, but other than that, the only thing that could break the time lock was that timepiece, and it would break the moment the time lock ended.

 As soon as it was on Khalid’s wrist, she looked up at them all. “Our information says the time bomb was planted in the costume of one of the ‘Millennium Birds’ who are the organizers of the different events,” she said. Janus had seen a photo of the identical costumes in the mission details. They were all robe like garments with giant fans of feathers coming from the neck that coalesced in a peak a foot above their head to hold a fake bird egg. At least they’d be easy to find. “There are 25 of them throughout the city. We need to find each of them. So, we don’t double count, you’ll need to subtly,” her eyes touched on Remus, “scan each one you find for the bomb and tag them with a tracker if it’s not on them. You can view the already tagged ones, as well as the rest of us on your timepiece even once the time lock is engaged. When you find the bomb, call it in.”

 They all nodded, and Khalid looked over at one of the techies. She nodded at her and then the techie flipped a couple of switches. “Three, two, one,” the techie said. There was a slight shift in the air that most people would disregard, but Janus as a seasoned time traveler could feel the change even before his wrist buzzed. He glanced at his timepiece to see it had a big red ‘X’ across its display. He tapped it and was still able to bring up the map of the city with 10 green dots on it all clustered together in their current location.

 After that, he tested the scanner on his timepiece that he would use to search for the bomb, just to make sure the time lock hadn’t messed anything up with his equipment. He glanced up to see everyone else was doing the same.

“Keep in contact,” Khalid said before everyone split up. Janus and Remus started by going North while Fredrick and Darlene were to go South. Khalid was a floater who would tag any Birds she saw but was mostly there for backup and orders.

Janus and Remus stepped into the chaos of New Years Eve before the turn of the third millennia. The streets were already swamped with people and it would only be getting worse the later it go.

“Where should we start?” Remus asked.

 “Let’s go all the way North to the games area,” Janus said. “We can work our way back here.”

“Okay!” Remus said. “I wonder if they have those fun little genetically modified goldfish as prizes. I’ve always wanted to eat one and see if I end up getting whatever design was on the fish on my body.”

Janus gave him a disgusted look.

“What?! People eat fish all the time!”

Janus shook his head. “We’re not playing the games anyway. We have work to do. Important work.”

“Boo,” Remus replied. Janus chose to ignore him as he spotted one of the Millenia Birds letting people into the gaming area.

 They walked over towards the entrance. Janus got in range first and moved to subtly scan the Millenia Bird, Remus doing the same the next moment. After a second, Janus’s timepiece buzzed and lit up red, meaning the bomb was within range. “Well, that was easy,” he said. “It was on the first one we found.”

“Uh…” Remus said. “Jan.” When Janus looked, he was holding up his wrist to show his green lit time piece.

“What?” Janus asked. He quickly moved to rescan the Millenia Bird, and his timepiece came up green as well. Which, meant the bomb was not in range, even though the Millenia Bird had not moved. “But…” He and Remus’s eyes met, and they quickly both started turning in a circle to look at the crowd around him. No one looked like they’d just stolen a time bomb off the Millennial Bird, but then Janus’s eyes caught on a man. He blended in perfectly to his surroundings. He was wearing the disgusting garb of the times, a large light blue piece that bubbled near his hips, and had most of his skin covered in rainbow neon paints. Yet, something about him, the curl of his hair or the way he moved, drew Janus’s eyes to him. He recognized the man immediately even in a completely different dressing style. Yet, what cinched it was the moment Janus’s eyes met his and they seemed to sparkle slightly in the afternoon sun. The next moment, the person Janus knew as Pat, turned to disappear into the crowd.

 Chapter 7

“Him,” was the only thing Janus said before taking off after the figure who had just disappeared into the game area.

“What?” Remus’s voice followed after him. “Janus! What?!”

Janus did not pause, just continuing to run after Pat, hopping over two barricades as a shortcut. Janus cursed when he lost sight of the man for just a moment near the prize table filled with colorful goldfish, but he was able to spot him once again walking into one of the tents. Janus blasted into the tent. It was a game where they raced rats, and when Janus entered, Pat was cooing at one of them.

 “Who’s a tiny little squishy precious baby?” he was asking one of them, wiggling his pointer finger at it.

“You,” Janus growled stepping up to him.

He turned and tilted his head at Janus with a frown. “Um, me?” he asked, pointing to his chest, all sorts of innocent, but Janus could see a spot of hidden amusement in his eyes.

“Where is it?”

His eyebrows drew together, but it was an act. It was clearly an act! “Where is what?”

“The…” he glanced around them at the people surrounding them. “Thing you just took.”

“I didn’t take anything,” Pat said with a frown.

9794

“Oh, no,” Janus said. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fooling me twice is not an option.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Pat said. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bull. Shit.”

Just then, Remus jogged into the tent. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“It’s him,” Janus said pointing. “He took it. He has it.”

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about,” Patton said. He looked over to Remus with a confused frown.

Remus looked at Janus. ���Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Janus said. “It’s him. It has to be him. He’s the mask guy.”

Remus squinted at Pat. “He is?”

“Whoever you think I am, I’m not. I haven’t worn a mask all night. I just did the face paint,” he pointed to his cheeks.

[starlessskies94]

Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?

Pairing: Joel Miller x OC

Note: Sorry Ellie :(

Chapter Four

Ellie was tired. She’d barely slept since Joel’s attack and whenever she did, she only ever found herself back there. Pinned to the floor and forced to watch as those fuckers slowly tortured him,  as his screams echoed in her head till she woke in a cold sweat. It had been a couple of weeks since she’d heard that Joel had been sent home but she’d done everything she could to avoid crossing paths with the man. She was already carrying enough guilt without seeing the vacant look in his eyes. She knew it would just make her feel a thousand times worse. In her mind this had all happened because of her. The Fireflies had only gone after Joel because of what he had done to protect her. She had wanted to be angry for so long but now it just seemed pointless. How could she be mad at Joel for something he didn’t even remember doing?! He didn’t know her, she was now just a stranger that had been a part of the rescue that brought him back to Jackson as far as he was concerned.

Even now the girl felt numb, it was the first time in days that she actually managed to venture from her room without instantly wanting to retreat back, to once again shut out the world. But she had a job to do and she was determined to do it. If not for her own sake, then for her mother’s.

“Okay that’s done, what’s next?” Dina asked pulling her girlfriend from her thoughts. Ellie looked back in her direction, moving to the table by the front of the barn for the papers her mom had written for her. “Feed, I think...you remember who has what?”

The young brunette scoffed cockily with a smug grin. “Of course I remember!” She dismissed with a wave of a hand as she walked towards the feed room. While Ellie just rolled her eyes as she followed. “Rightttt, because I'm sure Max didn’t write it all down for you? TWICE!” She could only laugh as Dina flipped her off walking through the door.

Later on as the two finished up tending to the last of the horses, heads bowed and noses snuffling in buckets, it quickly became quiet. All except the sound of the animals slurping and chomping at their breakfast. Ellie found it strangely calming as she and Dina sat and waited for them to finish before continuing on with their jobs.

“How’s Ada?” Dina asked quietly with her head leaning on Ellie’s shoulder. “Not great, I told her to take a couple days off.” She sighed heavily. Her mother had been holding it in, pretending she was able to cope, that she was strong enough to deal with everything that was happening. In truth, Ada blamed herself just as much as her daughter did for what happened to Joel. Perhaps even more so, considering she had been right by his side at the time, supporting his every decision only to now watch him suffer the consequences of them alone. Ellie had had the idea of giving her mom some time at home away from the town gossip and the constant looks, pitiful or otherwise.

The teen knew from first hand experience what it was like to be the talk of the town and she wanted to spare her mother from as much of that as she could...even if it was just a couple of a days.

“Ohh so that’s why we’re on yard duty then?” Dina yawned. Her arms reaching out above her head as she stretched and rose to her feet to peer over Japan’s stable door. The gelding nickering affectionately when she spotted her.

“Yeah but it’s not that bad; you get to spend all day with your boy.”

“That’s true; isn’t that right baby?” She cooed patting Japan softly on his neck as the gelding whined, almost agreeing with his owner.

“I swear you love that horse more than me.”

“I do...but you come in at a close second.”

“Gee thanks.” The redhead mumbled sarcastically with folded arms.

Ellie smiled holding back a laugh when the horse rubbed his feed covered nose against Dina’s arm, her girlfriend yelping in surprise at the mess slobbered against her clothes.

“Oh you think you that’s funny do you!” She gasped. “Yeah I do, whaddya do gonna do huh?” She taunted in amusement.

“Oh I’ll show you! Come here!” Ellie laughed slowly backing away as Dina advanced on her, then suddenly pounced, smearing the muck across her girlfriend’s jacket. Ellie flailing in a feeble attempt to get away.

“Ew you’re so fucking gross!” She giggled out breathlessly, shaking her arms as she tried miserably to clean herself up.

“Eh you love me!” Dina moved to wrap her arms around Ellie’s shoulders, her eyes staring deep into hers, it felt oddly familiar to how they stood at the party that night they first kissed. It seemed so long ago now. But Ellie would always be grateful for it. The only difference was now; was that there were no more doubts. No more nerves of hesitation. Ellie didn’t even have to think about it this time as she pulled her closer with hands placed on her waist.

“Yeah. I do.” She whispered as the two leaned in, lips meeting in a kiss. Their noses brushed as they slowly pulled apart, lost in their own bubble of bliss and happiness. If Ellie couldn’t have her family right now, she was pretty damn grateful for Dina. The girl smiling sweetly in return as Ellie decided right then and there, that there was no doubt this girl was the fucking love of her life. The brunette pressed another kiss to the tip of Ellie’s nose before pulling away.

“Love you too babe, now come on. Your mom will kill us if we don’t get this done.” Ellie nodded silently before following, the two moving to start their next job of cleaning the tack.

They’d just gotten the cleaning supplies together, about to sit down at their work bench, when the sound of tapping and shuffling steps caught their attention.

“Oh hey there girls. Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt but I was looking for Tommy. I’m supposed to meet him here...is he around?”

Ellie froze like a deer in headlights at the man looking down at them from the doorway of the barn.

It was Joel and it was like looking at a ghost. He stood with a cane in his right hand after growing strong enough to no longer need his crutches. But it was clear his bad leg would never fully heal and it was a fact that still made Ellie angry. He looked exhausted. His face covered in near healed cuts and fading bruises. His beard was bushy as ever but some patches were shorter, where the injuries to his face were slowly scabbing over. It was the same for the dark mop of hair on his head that he’d let grow out over the past year. Shorter in parts and left uneven, probably to give it time to grow again. Ellie wasn’t sure.

She felt numb looking at the same man she’d once considered a father, who looked at her now as though she were a stranger. Although she supposed that’s because; to Joel, she was. Dina thankfully seemed to sense her girlfriend’s unease and rose to her feet to answer for the both of them, while Ellie herself just continued to stare.

“It’s okay, Tommy left this early morning to go check on a patrol route just outside the wall. But he’s due to be back soon if you want to wait.” She offered and Ellie felt like punching her.

What was she thinking?! That five minutes standing together in the barn would be enough to bring back Joel’s memories. The teen gave her knowing look, almost apologising with her eyes. But Ellie wanted to respect her mother’s wishes and if she was being honest, she agreed with the idea to give Joel time to process everything.

“You sure? I wouldn’t wanna get under your feet.” He said with a small smile, trying to lean his weight on his good leg. His fist tightening around the cane as he balanced himself. “No, it’s no problem at all. You can come see the horses too. Might as well seeing as one of them is yours.” Dina smiled politely.

It seemed that was enough to convince the man as he hobbled over to the stable Dina was stood by. A large bay gelding thoroughbred twitched his ears and reached over the door to sniff at Joel’s jacket the closer he got.

“Hey there fella.” Joel murmured. The horse responding affectionately as he nuzzled against the hand raised to stroke his nose.

“That’s Duke. He’s your boy.” Dina said. Almost pulling Ellie to stand closer to the door by Joel by her sleeve. Her feet dragging along the floor as she froze again, her eyes never leaving Joel as he smiled at Duke.

“That right? Well probably explains why he recognises me, I wish I could say the same boy.” It was mumbled but both Dina and Ellie heard, noticing the sadness that creeped along Joel’s face the longer he looked up at the large animal. Thankfully it seemed to pass quickly when his eyes glanced back at the girls beside him.

“I think I know you two...Ella right?” He pointed to Ellie and she almost jumped from her skin when the older man addressed her. Her hands anxiously pulling at the sleeves of her jacket.

“Errm...Ellie.” She quietly corrected. “Annd this...this is Dina. My girlfriend, we were part of the group that brought you back to Jackson.” Her hands were shaking the whole time she spoke and when her words were finished, her throat was dry and she almost coughed to rid the lump that was forming. But Joel just smiled in that same old Joel way that he did. She was thankful for the fact that at least the attack hadn’t taken that from him.

“Well thank you Ellie and Dina, I’m real grateful. You two seem like good kids.” Ellie almost beamed from the feeling of getting praise from Joel again after so long. It took her back to Pittsburgh all over again, being taught how to shoot. The pride of knowing she was doing a good job, Joel had said so back at Bill’s. When he’d jumped down to join Ada by the road she’d meant what she’d said to him.

‘I won’t let you down.’

Except now she had and she felt more than guilt as she looked at Joel beside her. But he seemed so content, fussing Duke with a lazy smile as he did. It was strange to miss a man that was standing right in front of her.

“Hey uh...meant to ask before but uh...you wouldn't happen to have a horse named Callus here would ya?” Joel asked suddenly and Ellie’s heart almost stopped instantly as her eyes widened slightly. Once again Dina noticed straight away as her hand slipped into Ellie’s to try to ground her.

“No, I don’t think so. Why are you remembering something?” The young brunette asked gently.

Joel thought for a second before shaking his head.

“Nah, just the name kept coming to me. Probably nothing. Kind of a ridiculous name for a horse anyway.” He chuckled and Ellie felt her heart ache.

“Well I think I’ve kept you young ladies from your work long enough. I’d hate for y'all to get in trouble on my account. I’ll try catching Tommy by the gate on his way back.” he shuffled on his feet to turn back towards the door, his weight held firmly on his cane. “Sure no problem, it was nice talking to you.” Dina said and Joel nodded in response then waved at the girls as he disappeared back towards the town.

Ellie watched silently as he left. All the while Dina held her hand, her soft eyes looking back to the redhead when Joel was gone. Her hand slipped from Ellie’s and wrapped around her in a hug.

“Babe, you okay?” She whispered. She could see Ellie’s eyes welling, her lips trembling as she slowly shook her head.

“I just want to go home.”