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chazukekani · 3 years

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Previous // Next

Recap: Adam met Chuuya and the flags for the first time in the billiards bar. Despite misunderstanding each other, they resolved the misconception and played billiards cohesively.

Albatross was impressed by how skillful Adam was in playing billiards. 'It was all physics and calculations,' answered by Adam. The android once again introduced himself to the crowd, and revealed his favourite things were acorn and grass seed, and things he hated were metal detectors in the airport. His dream is to create an investigation organisation that was solely run by machines because he saw humans irrational hence incapable in carrying detective missions.

Piano Man replied that he still could not trust Adam because he was afraid Adam would leak the information of the Mafia to his own organisation. However, Adam promised that his mission was only about arresting Verlaine, and he would not interfere with anything further. Chuuya disagreed because he thought Adam was lying.

'It is impossible that Verlaine is searching for me,' said Chuuya

'Why?' asked Adam

'Because Paul Verlaine is dead.'

Chuuya recalled the Arahabaki incident one year ago. It was all about Arahabaki, the artificial ability created by the military. In order to get this top secret, Two European spies took on a mission to steal Arahabaki, and they were Arthur Rimbaud and Paul Verlaine. They accomplished their mission perfectly. However, Paul Verlaine suddenly betrayed his partner. He attacked Rimbaud, and took away Arahabaki by himself. The battle between the spies, who were also super ability users, were intense, which they created a scene of battle with mass destruction.

As a result, Rimbaud won and lived, but he lost his partner. As being a super ability user, this battle caught the attention from the military. Rimbaud was chased after by the authority and he had no way out. As Rimbaud was already very weak after the battle with Verlaine, he had no choice but to absorb the ability that he just stole, which was Arahabaki itself. As a result, it became Verlaine's ability - to abilitify humans - he broke the seal of Arahabaki. It was a form of ability that was beyond human capacity, and was as if it were the beast of god. The military tried their best to seal the Arahabaki. Afterwards, a huge black flame burnt everything, regardless of the military, laboratories and all the surroundings. Rimbaud was the only one who survived under the protection of the ability, but he lost his memory in return. Rimbaud then joined the mafia and used 8 years to recover his memory. In order to fully recover, Rimbaud baited Chuuya - the true Arahabaki - to appear, so that Rimbaud could absorb his ability. That's the course behind the Arahabaki incident one year ago.

Rimbaud was then dead, because he lost to Chuuya.

'No, Verlaine was alive,' said Adam. Piano asked for the proof but Adam said he did not want to leak the top secret to anyone apart from Chuuya. Chuuya said that it was fine to brief the information with them all because Chuuya considers the Flags as related personnel. The flags were touched because they were surprised by how Chuuya considered them as his companions. Chuuya wanted to take back his word because he was embarrassed.

'I will follow your order,' Adam took the opportunity and he grabbed Chuuya under his arm as if a piece of parcel, and hopped away from the bar instantly. Adam was holding Chuuya and hopping, flying in between the residence area. 'I also want to be holded like that...' Doc was watching Chuuya leaving with Adam and whispered.

'Why are you holding me that way!?' Chuuya said furiously. 'You can put me on your back or just take my hand, there are many ways!'

'I am terribly sorry,' Adam said. 'This is the best way to transport you according to your size.'

'Imma beat you ass up! I am still growing!' shouted by Chuuya.

Chuuya used his ability and they were landed in an abandoned Church that was formerly destroyed in the war, and he had a call from Piano Man.

'Are you alright Mr Parcel? Have you got your stuff delivered yet?' Piano Man sounded very happy.

'I am fine,' Chuuya replied.

Piano Man told Chuuya to finish his business ASAP because the boss was asking them to come for a meeting. Chuuya replied and the conversation was over.

Adam proceeded briefing Chuuya what had happened. He showed Chuuya a photo which was taken during the coronation in the St. Paul's Cathedral in London three years ago.

The photograph displayed three collapsed soldiers in the Cathedral whom were murdered. The men brought no sword with them, no blood, no gunshot were found either. Those men were laying on the floor as if fell asleep, but it wasn't, they were all dead.

Adam said that these three soldiers were the close bodyguards of the Queen, and belonged to the Order of the Clock Tower. One of the soldiers once destroyed an organisation in one night, so they were meant to be very powerful and difficult to kill, yet they were all killed by Verlaine. There were no external injuries found, but their bones were broken down to 1228 pieces at the same time. Chuuya was shook because Adam said it was practically impossible to do so.

The crime scene occurred during the coronation, and it was suspected that the Queen was also the target. Fortunately, the Queen was safe, but the reputation of the Clock Tower was severely damaged.

The Order of the Clock Tower was meant to protect the Royal Family, and their guard is unbreakable because their ability users were on the level of the Transcendents as they could create a subspace, and this was where the Royal Family were. Hence an assassin would be killed back right away if he attempted to assassinate the members of the Royal Family. Therefore, Paul Verlaine almost became the most dangerous man that would threaten world security. That's why Dr. Wollstonecraft sent Adam to take a new approach to investigate this incident, and that new approach is Chuuya. Adam knew Verlaine was searching for Chuuya, so Adam thought it would be efficient to come to Chuuya before Verlaine arrived, and then he could arrest him.

'So basically I am a bait?' asked Chuuya, and Adam admitted.

Chuuya refused to assist because he thought even if Verlaine was going to kill him, he would be able to handle it. He then left Adam because the 'Mail Man' from the Mafia was already waiting for him. Adam didn't let go of Chuuya and kept following him. Mail Man, in general terms, were responsible for sending messages between the Port Mafia, as well as acquiring intelligence for the organisation. The Mail Man was wearing a black hat and sunglasses, which had his face covered. Adam was still chasing after Chuuya.

'Please don't go, Chuuya-san!' shouted Adam.

'Hurry up!' Chuuya went inside the car and told the Mail Man.

'He is Verlaine!' shouted Adam. The Mail Man then accelerated the car and got away from Adam.

Chuuya tried to punch the man but it was unsuccessful.

'You are lighter than I thought. You should eat more or else brother will be worried,' said Verlaine. A battle broke out inside the car. Under Verlaine's gravity control, Chuuya could not breathe as his lungs almost collapsed, and he was gradually losing his consciousness as blood was deprived from his brain.

'I don't recall having a European brother...' said Chuuya

'You are wrong,' Verlaine replied, 'I am neither an European nor a human. I am just like you.'

'No!' Chuuya struggled with his ability.

Chuuya insisted that he was a human who grew up in a farm by the sea because that's what his friends showed him, but Verlaine rebutted that it was just fake information fabricated by the military. Suddenly, Adam hacked the handle and turned the car left. The car was then crashed with a truck that filled with fuel nearby and created a mass explosion.

'Humans are mistaken for the word 'lonely',' Verlaine said, 'they know nothing about the true form of loneliness. They thought not having a family or a person to chat with means loneliness.'

'The real definition of loneliness,' Verlaine proceeded with his soft and gentle voice as if singing, 'is wandering in the universe and watching the shooting stars alone inside the vacuum under absolute zero. There is zero possibility that you will be founded by anything or approached by anyone. Thousands years passed and you will still hear nothing. Can you comprehend this feeling? No one can, except you, Chuuya.'

'Please come with me, Chuuya,' Verlaine offered his hand to Chuuya. Adam urged Chuuya not to go.

'Indeed, I understand what you mean,' said Chuuya. 'Before I answer you, I wanna ask you something,' Chuuya proceeded.

'I just had a call with Piano Man, and they said that they were told to have a job. Answer me. Where did those five people go?'

Verlaine laughed, 'I assume you don't need your old friends anymore?' Verlaine opened the trunk in his car, and there's something inside with a sloppy sound. Chuuya's eyes zoomed out.

It was Lippmann's corpse.

Chuuya screamed. He lost his control. He kept punching the broken pieces in the surroundings and moaned and shouted. Verlaine grabbed Chuuya's neck, and found a photograph in his pocket and threw it away.

'There's no way I will like you. Absolutely,' Chuuya's voice was shaking.

'That's fine, because you will choose to follow me at last, and now I will now show you the evidence.' Verlaine used his other hand to cover Chuuya's forehead mildly.

Space was shaking, and there was a mass explosion. There were black and red flames appearing in front of Chuuya.

'Let's open 'the door' by a little bit,' said Verlaine.

'High energy with Hawking Radiation detected,' Adam splitted out the words by default. Adam targeted his bullets on Verlaine's eyebrows, eyeball, throat and arm, but Verlaine stopped the bullets and targeted Adam back. Adam was in pain utterly.

At the same time, Chuuya screamed violently as if losing his soul. A hell occured, it's the black flame. It was exactly the same flame that appeared in the Suribachi City. The high energy melted the surroundings, including all the buildings nearby. There was a black sphere, and Chuuya was in the center of it. He was in pain as you can observe his rupture on his skin, the almost-breaking eyeball and the collapsing organs. Such high energy even distorted the time and space in that area.

Yet, there was a person, standing next to Chuuya. A person with black coat and covered his face with bandages.

'Can you please die more neatly?' said Dazai.

Dazai grabbed Chuuya's wrist, and Chuuya had the ability nullified. He gradually lost his consciousness and closed his eyes.

Chuuya roughly remembered that Dazai carried him on his back and brought him to the billiards bar. When he woke up at the bar, Chuuya sensed something smelly, it's the smell of blood.

He went inside to the bar, and found Piano Man, Ice Man, Albatross and Doc were all dead. The bar was in a mess as if stormed by hurricanes. He saw Doc's body was separated, and couldn't even find his lower part of the body.

Chuuya then found Albatross with a final breath left. He was relieved when Chuuya found him. 'I will be dead soon,' said Albatross, 'Chuuya, take my bike in my garage, it's all yours,' and that's the final word of him.

'I am going to help you,' Chuuya told Adam with determination, 'I am going to find him, but don't arrest. Kill him.'

'Mafia will not forgive anyone who kills my family.' - - Code:01 Ended

#bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs storm bringer #bungou stray dogs storm bringer #bsd storm bringer #bsd nakahara chuuya #nakahara chuuya #bsd Paul Verlaine #Paul Verlaine

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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Petal

college!sebastian stan x reader

masterlist

Summary; Your boyfriend Sebastian has been spending much time studying, hardly sparing himself a break. Finally, he sees the pros of taking one

Warnings; smut, oral sex (male and female receiving), penetrative sex, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, fluff

divider by @firefly-graphics

Sebastian was to be home any minute, he had been prolifically stressed from his classes regarding his law certification, and you had decided to exhibit him a well deserved distraction that would surely take his wired brain off from the course that was practically running through his veins at this point.

It seemed that at every waking moment, he was doing something to aid his studies, and whilst that was great that he was so dedicated to passing for this insane qualification, he did need to take breaks here and there. He wasn't the only one suffering from his late nights, and his resurrection from slumber at the crack of dawn, no. You were too, you missed him, despite being in the same apartment and room as him for the majority of his spare time.

He acted as though he had no time to spare, but you were well acquainted with his schedule, especially by now. The only difference was, that he had no occupation for a moment to relax with you, or by himself. His showers took five minutes every morning and evening, it was as though he were rushing to clean himself so that he could proceed to go back to putting his nose in a book, or searching specifics online.

But tonight, you were going to cut him off. If he didn't endure a moment of mindlessness, then you were sure to go mad yourself. You were keening for his touch, all you had received in the past few weeks were chaste kisses on both your lips and forehead, as well as verbalised 'I love you's. Perhaps it was selfish, he was striving towards a great achievement in his life, and you wanted a little bit of attention, but you knew he was holding himself from any relief also.

From the minimal time that he spent under the cold stream of the showerhead, he didn't have enough time to rub one out, and there was no fear that you had of him seeing another woman. Sebastian was not like that at all, and you had the clarity of him being in the kitchen half the time, typing away on his laptop, as he ran over some old notes and updated them.

Currently, he was out, he was in his lecture. There was a span of fifteen minutes from the time that he would be on the walk home, and you knew that was exactly how long that took in your shared student apartment, because you too endured your studies. But once more, your own were pushed to the side as you speculated your appearance in the silver tapestry of your mirror.

Your hand steadied on your right hip as you posed in front of it, twisting your waist to find the most attractive angle for you in your new wear. The underwear was tight, and not to mention, completely sheer. It's see through nature made wearing it practically pointless, but considering his current frustrations, it was only fair to give something to rip off of you.

Truthfully, you had to admit, you looked damned good. There was no way he would choose studying law over ravishing your body, a spark jolted through your body as the door behind you opened, and with a seductive bite to your lip, you turned around, only to scream and cover your body with your hands, or at least to the best of your ability. "Holy fuck, don't you know how to knock?!"

"I didn't think I'd have to because your human dildo isn't here!" Anthony defended himself, having turned around, as the image of you, one of his best friends, practically in the nude, burned behind his eye balls. The fact that he had seen you made you feel sick, this was not how you had intended the afternoon to go.

"Is there a reason that you burst into my room looking for me Mackie?" The question was indeed one that you wanted to know the answer to, you still felt so exposed, although he was not looking at you. That was certainly something that you were going to avoid telling Seb, that would definitely be a big distraction from his work.

And of course, alongside that, he would have an intent to possibly murder your flat mate, and whilst Chris would be laughing at that, there would be a heavy hotness to your face, as you watched them immaturely battle. Anthony cleared his throat thoroughly, directing towards the face that he was about to speak.

"Definitely not to see you like that." Retorted the math major, shrugging the shiver off his shiver as the memory tormented him once more. "But... me and Chris were going to meet with Scarlett, Takia and Brie, we were going to see if you and Seabass wanted to join, but as I saw against my own will, you have something already planned for your dinner."

“Um yeah, no, we’ll pass. Thanks tho buddy.” Oh god, to say you felt awkward was an understatement. If you were wearing clothes, or at least more socially appropriate ones, you’d go to him and give him a typical punch on the shoulder. Though, if you were clothed more body wear, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. Only things like this happened in college flats, that was one thing that could be confirmed.

“Okay then. Good to know...” Anthony closed the door and proceeded to enter the kitchen. He went grab himself an apple, and realised then that it was an unfortunate consequence, but he had lost his appetite. There had been nothing wrong with your appearance - nothing at all - but you were his flat mate and friend! And, you had a boyfriend, whom was also a great reference of social interaction for him.

The sound of keys interlocking with the outside of the door echoed through the kitchen, someone was outside, and he’d be write in assuming that it was Sebastian. Chris was presently occupied by scouring the internet for ways to surprise the girl he was currently hanging with, and honestly by that, Anthony was scared to enter his room.

It could have been anything that he was searching, but to his contrasting luck, the last resident of their flat entered, creases firm on his brow, from thinking too hard. Sebastian was mulling over the lecture that his professor had given his class. Remember to take a break every now and then. Maybe he was right, a break couldn't postpone him from graduating him that much, could it.

Perhaps he was putting it all off, because after receiving his degree, the four of you would have to find somewhere else to live, and a part of Seb was inclined to ask you individually to move in with him. A one bedroom apartment would be cheaper than one with three rooms, and atop of that, he wouldn't have to be cautious of minor things like walking around the flat in little to no clothing, or fucking you on the kitchen counter.

They were all coupley things that he had wishes to do, but because there were another two men residing with you and him, albeit them being your friends, he didn't allow you to do so in anything less than one of his shirts that cascaded down your thighs, so that if you weren't wearing panties, everything would be concealed. Anthony gulped, remembering he had seen you in your surprise for this man, and gosh, did he want to keep quiet about his accidental peek.

Sebastian wasn’t the jealous type, it was rather refreshing how he found that to be an unappealing trait, however, it would still not settle well that someone saw his girl, in a compromising choice of wear that was supposed to be for his eyes only. He would surely make it clear that you were his, and thus the fucking in the kitchen that he dreamt about would be more than likely to unfold, as he rammed you against the cupboards, caring not if guests were due.

“Hey.” It was a breath of fresh air to speak to someone who was not on his course, it was as though he had become estranged from the people closest to him during this part of the term. Thus a striking pang of guilt landed in his chest as he wondered how you must have felt. He hadn’t touched you in any intimate sense in weeks, it certainly felt like years.

That truth gave him no pride, he dropped his items on the counter, planning on returning to them after he had tended to greeting you. A long kiss sounded nice, strung by a chord of untwined tongues that groomed the insides of your mouth, as you reciprocated. If he was very generous to himself, he’d perhaps lay down for a moment, and allow his pianist hands to wander for more than a moment, stroking them up and down your thighs, until he gave supple attention to your sweet delicacy, dipping down to kiss it and run his fingers over the beautiful gates that only he was allowed to surpass through.

Anthony muffled a reply to him, before shuffling out the room, casting him a weird side eye, but Sebastian thought little of it as his mind was preoccupied with something other than his studies. Oh, and how he didn't mind. The mental image of your nude portrait blessing his eyes was enough motivation to have him striding at a fast, yet considerable pace, towards the door to your shared bedroom.

He knew you must have been inside, he saw your lanyard hanging on the coat rack, that was literally a makeshift piece of wood that you had drunkenly returned with one night, along with a very much intoxicated Paul Rudd. There had been construction nearby, and you thought that it was possible to turned the sharp edged plank with nails sticking out as a bedframe. Least to say, Sebastian did not allow that to happen, knowing that one morning, you would end up spiking your scalp against one of the rusted nails.

People had gotten hurt by it from where it was already, there was that time that Tessa had tried to lean on it for a photo, that in retrospect was an applicant towards your photography course, but that didn't end well, you were pretty sure there was still a streak of her blood stained into one side. That may have been why Chris had turned its weight around after that. However, none of you had the money to spare to invest in a real rack, so for now it stayed.

It sure as hell wasn't coming with you guys when you moved out, that was one thing that Sebastian was going to ensure. If Anthony wanted it, then so be it, if all went to plan, the pair of you wouldn't be living with the lovable goof when the time came. Turning the knob to the room, Sebastian heard a gasp, and thus after he shut it, he saw you wrapped up in your robe, your head cocked to the side as you seductively tried to settle on your small double bed.

"You made me jump Sebba." No, he could tell that you had been taking a short nap, as though you had wanted to forget some details from your day. And that you did, and you hoped that Anthony did as well. "Have you got much work to do bubs?" You raised yourself on your elbows and shuffled towards him as he came to sit on the side of the mattress.

"Think I'm going to take a short hiatus from it for a few hours." Now that certainly sounded pleasant, you hummed at his words, stroking his shoulder, as you pressed a kiss to his hand that moved cup your cheek. "Have I been neglecting my little petal?" It was a name he used whenever he was seeking forgiveness, but this time, you shook your head, frowning, as you settled a small smile on your face.

"You've been understandably busy, I get that. I'm not going to go as far as to use that word babes, you've just had a little time to yourself and your schoolwork, and that is fine." He tapped your chin, cocking his head to the side, inviting you to straddle his lap. You'd have been stupid if you refused after all the time that you had spent mentally apart from him, so without another hint, you clambered over his thighs, a giddy expression corrupting your face.

"This is why I love you. So open minded, and not to mention, that mind of yours has had me doing some thinking." Nodding in a current to prompt him to continue, his hands eased their lodging onto your bare thighs, stroking the skin with large soothing swipes, making any hair on your body stand on edge, as he averted his eyesight to the split of your gown that crisscrossed around your chest. It wasn't a sexual focus however, it was more so as though he feared a rejection of one kind.

"Hope you're not gonna propose us having a kid or something, because now is certainly not the time." At your humour, he sincerely laughed, causing a calm to wash over you and him, as he finally looked you in the face. “Unless you mean buying a plant, our last one died, and now you use the old pot to stub out your blunts." You could see the improvisational container as you turned your head to the side, seeing its white exterior be a gradient of light to shielded grey.

"I want you to move in with me." Sebastian responded straightly, bracing his slightly nervous palms to the divot of your waist, as he grasped the skin below your ribs, swirling the pads of his thumbs across your skin, caressing each nimble pore on that part of your body. His breath captured the side of your neck, as he licked a sweet line across a vein that he specifically picked out using his

"We already live together silly. Unless we're gonna move to mars." As you spoke, your brows optimistically raised, as your forearms found a home around the back of his neck, as you pressed tentative kisses to his clean jaw. A series of giggles evicted from you as you darted your tongue out to taste his sharp skin, your hand slipping down to control his own, trailing his touch beneath your gown so that the tips of his fingers were brushing the mesh of your underwear that was poised in a curve upon your hipbone.

"As much as the space nerd in me would love that, and not to mention you would make one foxy astronaut, I meant, after this, and here, we find a place for just you and me. I get if you don’t-“ you pressed your left forefinger to his lips, humming with a smile as he shared a gentle kiss upon your skin. He took the digit into his mouth, sucking the skin and swirling his tongue around the crescent of your nail.

“That sounds... perfect.” Ushering your finger from out past his lips, and the barrier of his nipping teeth, you languidly stroked his bottom lip, spreading the small extent of saliva that had coated your finger. “I’m so happy you’re taking a break Sebba, you deserve it. There’s something I want to show you baby, I know you’re going to like it.”

“Is it under this robe by any chance?” Obliging his answer with a supporting action, you allowed his hands to remain beneath the sleek material, as you untied the thick strand that tied the two sides together around your body. Pushing the dark silk from your shoulders, you revealed the design of petals that prompted through the thin material of your undergarments, everything exposed through the sultry and intimate pieces.

“Do you like it?” You seemed to have forgotten about Anthony seeing you in the internal wear, and from Sebastian’s honed gazing at your full breasts, your nipples sternly grew hard, telling him without need for word that he was silently turning you on. A sigh escaped from him, as he plucked at the seam of your panties, tugging lightly at the side to drag the material up your slit, grasping a light moan from your intimately affected lungs.

“My lovely petal, like is an understatement. You do all this for me, I don’t think I’m going to know how much this was, especially where we’re supposed to be budgeting.” Seb quirked his unbrushed brow, pressing his lips against the column of your throat, intaking the smell and pungent taste of your floral perfume. “But I’m not going to complain, because seeing you like this is certainly worth a fine penny. Is it ungrateful for me to want it off of you though?”

“Wait.” You instructed him, pressing your tongue into the divot of his chin, swiping a line of saliva through the bone structure. “I think we should get my money’s worth. First, I want to get my fill of your appreciation, and then maybe, maybe then I’ll allow you to discard piece by piece from my skin.” Your dominant hand pressed against his growing bulge as a you slid off his lap, running your nose along his thighs, as you fiddled with the purchase of his jeans, him helping you tug the denim off, and down his thick thighs.

“You’re so good to me.” He leaned back, curling his fists into the sheets, as he watched you enduringly pat him over his boxers, drawing a spot of precum to seep out onto the white cotton. “My beautiful petal, hungry for my cock, you want it, don’t you? Want to suck my hard cock, practically starving for it, ain’t ya?” Profusely nodding, you drooled as he twitched, and pushed down his underwear, revealing his uncut, and growing cock.

“Holy shit.” Escaped you as a breathy conjunction of two words, your palm reaching out to rotate his foreskin in your hand, pushing the layer back gently to reveal his hidden slit. Your tongue darted out over the flushed head, suckling on the sensitive portion, spoiling yourself with the salty taste of his aroused skin. “You have such a pretty cock baby.” Pressing a kiss along the length, you dragged your tongue up his shaft, before returning to the tip, swallowing down his cock in your throat.

“Fuck.” Your boyfriend revelled in the pleasure, one of his hands capturing your hair in its hold, running his fingers through your locks as you bobbed your head. Gargled sounds choked out from your easing throat, as you continued your administrations, making Seb squeeze his eyes shut, as he endured the pleasure that you pledged him with. “Baby...”

You moaned around his cock, your glazed irises peeking up at him, before pulling off, a strand of saliva connecting you to his hung length. “Say it.” Was his demand as his hand pressed the cheeks of your face together, forcing your lips into an exaggerated pout. It was a notion of past experiences that reminded you of what he was speaking of, you blinked your lashes innocently towards him, steadily breathing through your nose as he patiently awaited for you to carry out his order.

“I’m your cockslut.” You mumbled out, spit pooling out of your mouth and rolling down the cleavage of your lips, descending onto your chin, and slipping to be a river down your chest, playing hide and seek in the cups of your sheer bra. “Love your fat cock, and your large balls, and the way your mouth exhibits complete bliss over my pussy.” He tilted your head to the side, as he leaned down, his spare hand reaching behind you to remove your bra, leaving it hanging loosely off from your shoulders.

“How about I eat your cunt, huh? You’d like that, wouldn’t you petal?” A whine slipped from your lips as you shouldered off the floral laced bra, discarding it on the bedroom floor, as you waded your legs about so that you could do the same with the slim lined panties. “Come on then, get up on the bed pretty girl, let me at that pussy.” Doing as he said, you clambered onto the mattress, your front against the sheets as you tried to position yourself. A slap rumbled off your ass cheek, as Sebastian struck down on the globe of fat, straggling a surprised moan from your lips.

It seemed like he wanted you to remain on your stomach, and so you did as he breathed a swab of cool air upon your clenching lips, swiping his tongue from your heavy clit to your soaking entrance. “Sebs, do something, please.” You collapsed your face into the bed, wiggling your ass towards his face, earning yourself another spank to your behind. It stung, but it was a hot heat that granted you a minor bit of relief; it was certainly better than nothing.

And then, his tongue probed at your entrance, test tasting your cunt as his muscle flicked deliriously over your clit, his forefinger prying at your slit, and slipping without struggle inside of your walls, evoking a withering moan to collapse out from your chest. Another digit slunk through your folds, filling your further, as his pace increased, his mouth surrounding your clit, and rolling the bud around with his instigating tongue. “Petal, pass me the lube.”

With a light head, you blindly reached your hand across to on top of his bedside table, locating the bottle with your fiddling hands, tossing it back towards him. A thump indicates that it did not land on the mattress as planned, instead the container of lubricant hit him in the forehead. A frown covered his face as he shook his head, removing his fingers from your folds, as he grasped the bottle, splurging some of the clear and slippery liquid onto his fingertips.

Seb spread it around his fingers, rubbing it onto his skin, as he applied a little onto your tight hole, prying at your puckered entrance with his lubricated digits. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You gently rubbed your face against the sheets as Sebastian entered his fingers into your ass, quickly thrusting them in and out of you. “Feels so good Sebby, shit.” He continued his administrations with a clenched wrist, evicting pleasure upon you as you practically sobbed onto your shared bed. “No, no-“

He removed his fingers, as well as his own shirt that was still covering his chest. Seb clambered off the bed for a moment, locating a condom, as he gave his cock a couple of jerks, rolling the avast protection onto his length, as he positioned himself on his knees behind you. He entered you swiftly, returning his fingers back into your tighter hole, as he began to thrust into both of your entrances. Sounds of pleasure were compelled out from your lungs, as you half screamed his name; there were tears collecting in the corners of your eyes as you endured wafts pleasure from both intimate angles.

He curled his fingers within you, picking up his pace as his hips profusely clashed against your own. He was chasing a high, whilst simultaneously reducing you to nothing but a racer to your own. “So fucking tight; in both holes.” His teeth clenched as he moaned at the sensation of your walls clenching harshly around him, as he filled the condom with his white and warm seed. He remained inside of you as he brought one hand down to your cunt, playing with your clit, as he sternly thrusted his fingers into your ass.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak, cumming around his softened cock, and mewling into your own wrist. Sebastian extracted his tender cock from within you, also removing his fingers, as he swiped off the condom, tying to open side so that no cum would spill out, and then discarding it in the bin. “Shit, I was wanting some attention from you, but I didn’t know I was going to get that.” You laughed lightly, feeling a little hazy and drunk from your numbing orgasm.

In turn, your boyfriend laughed too, grabbing his shirt from off the ground, and lightly pulling you up, helping you into the baggy material. He pressed a sweet kiss upon your forehead as he rolled to be laid beside you, bringing your sweaty body into his matching side, watching through appeased lids at how you curled yourself into him. “I love you darling.”

“I love you too Seb.” You replied, pressing a kiss to his soft nipple, as his arms locked adoringly around you. “And I’m so proud of you for putting your all into your course.” Your nails stroked down his stomach, as the two of you laid upon the sheets, rather than underneath them.

“Of course I would, it’s for our future in the long term of things.” He stated, brushing any loose strands of hair out from your face. “But I guess it’s okay to take a break sometimes. And that, well that was certainly worth the time away from studying, it always is with you.”

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new-sandrafilter · 3 years

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How Timothée Chalamet Channeled The Blockbuster Pressure of Leading Denis Villeneuve’s ‘Dune’ Back Into His Role – Venice Q&A

DEADLINE: In a few days Dune will premiere at the Venice Film Festival. You first met Denis Villeneuve about the role in May 2018 and started shooting in the early half of 2019. It was always going to be a long journey, but the pandemic stretched it even further. How does it feel to have finally arrived at this moment?

TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET: You know, I like to think that with every film I’ve done, whether it’s Call Me by Your Name or Beautiful Boy, The King, or Little Women, the character you play is almost a piece of your flesh. And that’s always true, but simply from the perspective of how long the shoot for Dune was, and also the arc that Paul Atreides is on, as well as the huge love and almost biblical connection that so many people have for the book and the original film, it really felt… tectonic, if that’s the right word for it. Just getting to this finish line feels like: phew.

And independent of what the film is now, and what it has become, the experience of making it was I was put in such a safe environment, which you can never take for granted as a human, as an actor, but especially when you’re just starting your career, and when this is the first film of this size you’ve ever done.

To get to work with Denis on it, to get to work with someone of his caliber, let alone on a book that he considers the book of his youth and one of the things he has connected to the most… When he would have it in his hands on set, his body language would become that of a fan; of a kid who had fallen in love with the book at home in Montreal. And when all the kids around him were wearing hockey jerseys with their favorite players’ names on the back, this was a kid wearing a jersey that said ‘Spielberg’ on the back.

For it all to come together, especially with the added challenge of the pandemic, it has all combined to make this moment feel especially spicy [laughs].

DEADLINE: The entire ensemble will show up in Venice.

CHALAMET: Right. And I just can’t believe it; Jason Momoa has the number one film on Netflix right now with Sweet Girl, which I just watched. And since we shot, Zendaya has had all this success with Euphoria and Malcolm & Marie. Just to be part of this cast, period, let alone as one of the title characters, it’s really the shit you dream of.

And let me not forget, too—and I know I’ve told you this before—that The Dark Knight was the movie that made me want to act. That movie had a score by Hans Zimmer, and he has done the score for Dune. And it’s almost not what you’d think. It’s totally appropriate and excellent for the movie, but he has somehow managed to do something subversive, in my opinion. It’s a pinch-me moment all over.

DEADLINE: So, take me back to the start. Is it true you had a Google alert set up to track the latest news on this project before you were ever cast?

CHALAMET: Yeah, it’s true [laughs]. Not right away—Legendary had the rights and was developing it—but as soon as Denis got involved, I set up a Google alert and that’s when I got the book.

In total honesty, I think my understanding of Dune at that point was from a graphic novel I’d seen at Midtown Comics when I was shopping for Yu-Gi-Oh! cards when I was about 10. The year you and I first met, when I was there at Deadline Contenders with Call Me by Your Name, that would have been 2017 or early 2018, and Denis was there with Blade Runner. I remember I was trying to put myself in front of him as much as possible and set up a meeting with him. We had a night at the BAFTA where one of my good friends, Stéphane Bak—who’s also an actor—saw Denis across the room and was like, “Hey buddy, he’s right over there.” So, we went over to talk to him. I kept trying to put myself in front of him, but I didn’t really get a sense of the possibility [of working with him].

I was about halfway through the book when I got the call that he was going to be the president of the jury at the Cannes Film Festival, and I was in London prepping The King. He asked me if I could come out there, so I quickly busted through the second half of the book as best I could. So, like, the first half of my copy is properly annotated and full of my thoughts, and then the second half I just raced through. And then I had that meeting with him, and it was such a joy.

I’m struggling with this even now, as I’m working with Paul King [on Wonka], because he’s another guy I have huge respect and admiration for, and it’s hard to feel on a level. Not that you ever are, because as an actor you’re a cog in the machine, and you’ve got to be humble to the vision of the director. But with Denis, he was pacing around the room, throwing ideas around, in some fancy suite in Cannes, and all I could think was that a year before I was just sat on a stoop on 9th Street in the East Village or something.

DEADLINE: Was that your first time in Cannes?

CHALAMET: Yeah. Well, bizarrely, my sister would do dance camps growing up. Ballet intensive programs in a town called Mougins, which is nearby Cannes, so I spent a lot of time there growing up, but never during the festival, and not on the Riviera. To get to be there for the festival was just nuts. I went to see the Romain Gavras movie, I think, and it was just a huge joy.

I got attached [to the role in Dune] a couple of months after that, and it was nerve-wracking from the announcement, because like I said before, the fans of the book, and the fans of David Lynch version, the computer game, and everything, there’s so much love and strength of feeling. And so much of our pop culture and films and books have been derived from Dune, and all the philosophy the book. I’ve been shocked to learn how many people have a next-level connection to the book. I compare it to how our generation grew up with Harry Potter, and that one makes sense to me. But it’s cool to see with Dune also, when you actually sit down and read it… It’s not that it’s a quote-unquote “hard read” or anything, but it’s not made to be consumed easily, I think that’s fair to say.

So, I was grateful to be working on something of this size not only with Denis Villeneuve leading it, who between Polytechnique, Incendies and Prisoners had nailed the smaller indie film across languages, and then had nailed Arrival and Blade Runner, but who, in his own words, he didn’t feel he’d made his greatest film yet. But also, to be working with this cast. I don’t know if there’s some nightmare version of a film where a young lead is not supported by the rest of his cast, where every one of them had been the leads in their own huge projects. But on this, everyone was there to support, and I think it’s because we all wanted to be foot soldiers for Denis, and I think we understood the potential, based on the script by Eric Roth, Jon Spaihts and Denis, that this could be something really special.

DEADLINE: I don’t have a connection to Dune; this movie is really my first experience of the story. What strikes me is this is clearly an enormous universe—a broad canvas being painted with various families and factions and politics and mythos—but that ultimately it comes down to very elemental, human themes, and we feel them through this character you play, Paul Atreides. Did those themes help ground the experience for you?

CHALAMET: Yes, and I would give the credit entirely to Denis. He would constantly say on set that he had some opposing drumbeat or something. In my diminished intellectual standing, I didn’t understand it, but it was like some vision for the movie based on how biblical the book is that tries to tackle so much that it doesn’t tackle anything. I think he felt the need to be close to a character in it, and Paul is that guy in the book. He’s a character that is still in formation, like a lump of clay, which makes him a great figure for the audience to mirror off.

It speaks, I think, to Denis’ premonition and his directing ability that there were times when we’d move on from a shot or move on from a scene, and I swear, literally, we’d go back because Denis wanted to get something over my shoulder, or push in on my reaction, just to make sure [it stayed on Paul].

And again, it’s something where I’m pinching myself. I had the best time on Interstellar, and that was one of my favorite films I’ve ever worked on, but it was very much something where I was aware of when I had the opportunity to do real acting. And on a movie like Dune, again, one could think it would get lost in the scale and scope. But I felt every day like my plate was full.

DEADLINE: One of those themes is fear, and Paul must overcome his to become the person he needs to be. When you are number one on the call sheet on a project of this scale, and the cast list reads like an address book of Hollywood in the 21st century, and Legendary has injected hundreds of millions of dollars into this production, and it’s all falling on your shoulders, I have to imagine fear is a theme you can readily relate to.

CHALAMET: Oh yeah, and they can bleed into each other for sure—not to diminish the other work that goes in. It’s great when your life experience can inform the role. That’s not at all to say I’m on some crusade in the universe or anything, but definitely… And I had that same good fortune with The King I think. My life is not nearly as significant or as exciting as Paul or Prince Hal, but we all share an unwitting needle in the haystack feeling. On The King that feeling was because I was so new to having a career. On Dune it’s because of, as you say, just feeling the pressure of the hugeness of the project in all those different ways. Those things can absolutely inform each other.

And then there are the moments of glee that come, too, like seeing Jason Momoa running at you at a hundred miles an hour, or just getting to shoot the shit with Josh Brolin, or getting to do a scene with Oscar Isaac. I felt so supported, whether it was Rebecca Fergusson or Charlotte Rampling. When Zendaya came, it was a total breath of fresh air, and she’s one of my favorite parts of the movie. I just got really lucky, and I can’t wait to see them all in Venice.

Denis split the book in half, and the hope is a second movie will get a greenlight. That’d expand Zendaya’s role in the story.

CHALAMET: Definitely, Chani will play a huge role in the next film. I don’t know if there’s a script yet, but just based on the book, along with Lady Jessica [Rebecca Fergusson], they have a lot to do together, let’s put it like that. And Zendaya was incredible in this movie; the moment she pulls the mask down, it felt properly showstopping and powerful. I was hiding behind the camera, counting my lucky starts, because I was there in month two of the shoot and here was a total powerhouse just coming in for the first time.

And as I said before, this was before I’d seen Euphoria and Malcolm & Marie. She’s doing such incredible work and is just trailblazing her own path, and she’s so, so cool. She also happens to be in the most-watched trailer of the moment, too, for Spider-Man: No Way Home. I cannot wait for that movie, and I was there, by the way, with everybody else, clicking through the trailer frame by frame looking for clues [laughs].

#timmy #timothee chalamet #dune movie #dune 2021 #denis villeneuve

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aggressive-positivity-network · 3 years

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Okay, so you said I could send an ask for headcanons about the childhoods of some specific merc(s)... I think I would really like to read your headcanons about Soldier’s and Engineer’s childhood :)

Thanks in advance and I hope your well.

Ooooh…I’ve been waiting for this! And thank you for being specific and not just saying “the rest of them.” Sometimes I get overwhelmed with nine specific mercs to write for. Your specifics are much appreciated.

****************

Soldier:

Soldier doesn’t talk very much about his childhood - whether it’s because something happened or he just doesn’t remember it, no one can tell. It’s nowhere in his file, either…he refused to do anything except tell fantastic tales of a fictional youth.

However, in a rare streak of almost lucidity, he spouted off the entirety of his younger years, much to the team’s surprise. Usually, if anyone asked directly, he changed the subject.

But now he described everything in vivid detail. And, with a bit of research from Miss Pauling, everything fell into place.

Apparently he had been born in a small military town in Georgia. His father was overseas, leaving he and his mother alone in their small yellow house.

In order to make ends meet, his mother worked at a nearby factory, mostly leaving Soldier to fend for himself and the house.

“Can you be a big, strong soldier like daddy for me?”

Soldier would always agree, finding his own food, his own entertainment, and his own friends. No matter what happened, he never bothered his mom. If anything, his job was to protect her.

That’s why, when his stomach started hurting and his arms and legs ached, he said nothing about it.

When he forgot the chores he was supposed to do and even the names of his friends, he didn’t bring it up.

When he felt tired all the time and some days could barely get out of bed, he just chalked it up to laziness like his mother did.

It turns out the factory they were next to was polluting the water next to the house with dangerous amounts of lead, which soon overcame Soldier’s immune system of steel.

He could barely remember anything anymore, and he became more and more distraught every day. Sometimes he would forget where he was and run outside, then get lost in the woods, only coming back once he remembered where he was supposed to be.

Soldier began to wear one of his father’s old helmets after his mom commented on his red eyes and the dark circles around them. He didn’t want to worry her. Besides, it helped bring back a few memories if he ever got lost again.

Finally, it got to the point where he didn’t even remember his mother, or his promise to her. He began to wander farther and farther away from home.

One day, he didn’t come back at all.

Out in the world with not a single memory to his name, Soldier wandered far and wide. He usually slept in barns and old, abandoned houses, cut off from most people.

Occasionally, he would find a family that wanted to “raise him as their own,” only to turn him away after finding him too difficult to care for.

He had frequent nightmares, ate little due to his unresolved stomach issues, and could barely walk ten feet without forgetting where he was going.

If he accidentally wandered into the same house twice, he would be chased out with either a broom or a gun - usually the latter.

He became “the demon child” in some counties, and “g*psy kid” in others, due to his long, unkempt hair, hidden eyes, and odd habits.

It even got to the point where Soldier couldn’t sleep on anyone’s property because he would be actively fought off like a wolf or a bear.

His only pleasure was an old movie theater that, as he recovered from his lead poisoning, remembered the location of and frequently snuck into.

The only thing that played were romance movies - which, like many children, Soldier hated - and war movies, which he watched over and over again with starving eyes.

Because of these movies, a single memory from his mother’s house came to him. A woman, tall and muscular from hard labor, giving him a shiny badge to hold, asking him to be a strong soldier like his father.

And thus began his life-long dream of becoming a military officer.

He trained according to what he knew from the films…which was mostly running, doing jumping jacks, and occasionally rolling around in the mud.

This only served to distance him further from his fellow human beings, but he didn’t care. Soldier had a mission, and he was going to do it well.

But the biggest change was his hair.

He had started cutting it off with sharpened rocks, but he was always saving up coins he found for a “proper army cut.”

Finally, he had quite the collection in a dirty mason jar, and marched into the barber shop in his town to ask for a haircut.

The manager was appalled, and at first refused, but Soldier stood his ground.

“Civilian, I’ll have you know that by denying a soldier with a haircut, you are denying America one of its best fighters! I can’t curdle the enemy’s blood looking like a hippie!”

After a short yelling match that, of course, Soldier won, the manager decided it would be in his best interest to comply.

He walked out of that shop with no hair on his head, but a huge grin on his face. Next stop, the ranks.

Soldier went from draft office to draft office, applying for and being denied entrance to the army for his obvious lack of mental stability.

This is when the personal retelling ended, since Soldier became very upset by the memory of his recruitment failures, but Miss Pauling concluded that he just bounced from state to state until Mann Co. found him, quote, “sitting in an alleyway, eating army draft paperwork while sobbing uncontrollably.”

Engineer:

Engineer also never really talks about his childhood, but both Medic and Spy (Spy knows everything about everyone on the team) know that’s for a good reason.

He grew up in a trailer community near an almost ghost town in Texas.

His father was an abusive car mechanic with a mean streak a mile wide and a shop full of failed inventions. His mother wasn’t any better - she was bitter and reclusive, only really coming out of her room to pick a fight with her husband.

However, what Engie lacked in family, he more than made up for in friends.

He had a rag-tag, Rugrats-esque team of pals from all walks of life: Rhapsody, the daughter of a struggling porn star; Tom, the son of two farmers wiped out by blight; Cici, an adopted girl that could barely walk into her trailer without a black eye and a string of slurs; Quinn, the nervous child of a single mother that serves as guidance to the other kids; And Fred, who didn’t seem to have any family, but had become a greaser big brother to all of them.

Together, they explored the desert near the trailer park, pooled their resources to feed and support each other, and used their individual strengths to get through each day.

Engineer, whom everyone affectionately called “Big Dell,” snuck parts from his dad’s workshop for his own creations.

By the time he was twelve, he could make a small, running engine for the soapbox cars his friends frequently raced.

No toy, piece of clothing, glasses, or tool was out of his line of expertise.

One day, though, upon finding that some of his parts were missing, Engineer’s dad gave him a terrible beating that broke a few of his fingers and left a huge gash near his eye.

Since then, he refused to fix, make, or even touch a tool.

He wouldn’t tell anyone what happened, but they could make a pretty good guess, since they knew where the scraps and parts had come from.

The whole group was furious with Engineer’s dad - their Big Dell was funny, smart, and was more loving than every family member they had combined. Even Quinn was red in the face.

They wanted to break into his dad’s workshop and destroy all of his inventions, just to teach him a lesson, but they knew Engineer would take the fall for it.

Instead, they rummaged through trash cans, searched their toy chests, and looked under their trailers to find things Engineer could use.

They waited until his birthday to unveil the massive pile of supplies they had stowed away.

Engineer immediately dropped to his knees and began to cry, and everyone else dogpiled him for a huge hug.

As the creme de la creme, they gave him a pair of welding goggles - the same welding goggles he wears to this day, having modified them so they still fit his growing body.

With his healed fingers and renewed spirit, he made each of them a gift: a toy car for Rhapsody, a skull ring for Fred, a full set of candle wax crayons for Cici, a chewable necklace for Quinn so they wouldn’t chew on their collar, and a mini-planter for Tom.

But Engineer was given the greatest gift - confidence in his own abilities and that he can be and was appreciated for more than his services.

This gave him the drive to build bigger and better things, which his friends happily assisted in creating.

Engie’s best memories are with that motley crew of scrawny, beaten-up kids.

But, as he became a teenager, the abuse grew worse by the day.

He was often kept in his dad’s garage to fix cars in sweltering heat and with nothing to show for his work except threats of what would happen if a customer complained.

His mother finally grew bitter enough to pick on him, wondering aloud and pointedly if she had made a mistake by having him, then immediately contradict herself by wailing in his arms about how she’s the most awful mother in the world, and how she would be gone soon, and then nobody would have to deal with her anymore.

Engie grew more and more distant from his friends as they either moved out, ran away, or, in Rhapsody’s case, died.

He thought of just shutting the garage door and turning on a car a couple times, but he would always return to his memories of the hidden cave of goodies his friends had collected or the many inventions they had helped him build.

It just wasn’t worth it.

On a night when his depression and self-doubt was especially bad, he decided to build a personal invention for the first time in years - a small, robotic chicken made out of bent gears and empty oil cans.

He worked on it for a few weeks, but made the mistake of leaving it on a work table once it was finished.

Engie came to work the next morning with his dad ready to chew him out. But, before any finger could be lifted against his son, he was interrupted by a sweet older couple that was having their tires replaced.

“Now, Ethan, ain’t that just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your life?”

“Hm?”

“That there chicken statue over there! It looks like it could very well get up and start peckin’ for worms, don’tcha think?”

Engie looked at the couple, then at his dad, then at his chicken. He slowly lifted it from the table and turned the key.

It started to slowly lean forward, then took a few steps on it’s long, spring-loaded legs. The neck went down, and the chicken’s rusty beak began to scrape at the pavement.

Now he had the husband’s attention.

“Didja build that yourself, son, or did your daddy help ya?”

Engineer looked at his dad for a split second before answering.

“My own sweat ‘n blood, sir. My daddy says I should stop wastin’ time on ugly thing-a-ma-jigs an’ put my hands to somethin’ worth doin’.”

The man smiled. “Well, this ‘ugly thing-a-ma-jig’ shows real skill. We could use somebody like you, once we train you up a bit.”

“Now hold on a damn - !” his father interjected, but was silenced with a cold stare.

“We’ll put ya through a state-of-the-art school, then put ya straight inta the work force. You can build whatever you like…and you’ll have a lot better materials than rusty tin. Whaddaya say, son?”

Engineer just nodded, and the man grabbed his hand and shook it.

“We’ll keep in touch.”

Engineer left that trailer park at age seventeen, leaving his fuming father and drunken mother behind.

He only stopped to visit Rhapsody’s grave before embarking on his new life.

There is still a stone plate with a message carved into it next to the headstone. If you brush off the leaves and dig out the moss, you can see Engie’s parting words:

“A friendship with you and the rest of the gang is the greatest thing I ever built. -Big Dell”

#tf2 #tf2 fandom #tf2 ask blog #tf2 headcanon #tf2 headcanons #tf2 engineer #engineer tf2 #tf2 solly #send asks #ask blog #headcanon requests #lovely anon #thanks anon #thanks for the ask

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rafael-silva · 3 years

Text

at your fingertips: a tarlos fic

When Carlos watches a video of TK working out at the firehouse in one of his old police academy t-shirts, he plans on showing TK just how much he appreciates seeing him in his clothes and the full scale of the effect the paramedic has on him once he gets home. Plus, Carlos has a comeback of his own.

for good things happen bingo: tarlos + wearing each other’s clothes

making out, kissing, neck kissing, soft carlos reyes/tk strand, sharing clothes, mild hurt/comfort, they are so in love, cuddling

3.3k | rated M | on ao3

*****

Carlos is in the middle of doing some chores around the house on his day off when he decides to take a break and scroll through Instagram.

He heads into the kitchen, fetching a cold bottle of water and retreats into the living room, falling backwards on the couch, relishing the feeling of the soft cushions under and behind him. After opening the app, he spots a new Instastory from Marjan and touches his finger to the screen there, playing it.

Carlos is glad he hadn’t taken a sip of water yet. Because he most likely would have choked on it from what his eyes are met with.

His eyebrows travel up his forehead a little and he knows the heat climbing his face isn’t from exhaustion or from moving around the house for the past couple of hours.

No. It’s from the video she’s uploaded.

TK, Paul and Mateo seem to be in the middle of some kind of challenge, a workout challenge. Marjan is clearly amused and entertained by the three men, judging by her off-screen laugh. Carlos knows that he’d probably be just as amused too if he were actually watching the video as a whole.

Carlos isn’t really aware of anything in that video except how damn good TK looks in one of his own old police academy t-shirts.

He had noticed that that shirt had mysteriously disappeared (or not so mysteriously when TK is his boyfriend) and now Carlos knew exactly what TK, and that t-shirt, were up to. He always knew TK looked good in his clothes, and knowing how the paramedic is very much a super ambitious clothes hoarder, he always looked forward to seeing TK in his clothes. Most of those moments a surprise, and the anticipation would also excite Carlos.

And boy, was this moment right now a surprise of its own. It hadn’t even crossed his mind, the possibility of TK wearing Carlos’s clothes at the firehouse, so that video kind of short-circuited Carlos’s brain, in a good way.

There is just something about the way his t-shirt hugs TK’s body, it had shrunk a little from wash after wash over the years, making it a perfect fit for TK. It fits his body like a glove, the sweat also making the shirt cling to his chest, leaving nothing to imagination. Not only that, but TK had gone ahead and rolled the short sleeves up to his shoulders, showing off his incredibly toned biceps as he lifts and lowers the dumbbells.

The video is over way too quickly. And if Carlos touches the screen again to reply it, well, who can blame him?

The officer’s body feels alive now, heat coursing through his veins. The tiredness that was lingering before is long gone now, replaced with fire. The effect TK has on him, even through a video, never fails to completely and utterly blow Carlos’s mind.

He draws in a deep breath and wills his heart to calm down, his eyes moving to the time on his phone. TK has six more hours for his shift and then he’ll be home.

Or, better yet, six more hours and Carlos can show TK how much he appreciates seeing TK in his clothes and the full scale of the effect the younger man has on him.

And if Carlos finishes the chores and errands while simultaneously counting down the minutes and having that Instagram story playing on a loop in his head, again, who can blame him?

*****

TK is pushing the condo door open and dropping his keys into the bowl nearby a little over six hours later. Carlos turns his attention from where he’s standing in the kitchen, and seeing TK stride in and dropping his duffel near the door, is all it takes for the officer to abandon the task at hand (putting away clean dishes) and makes his way towards his boyfriend.

Seeing TK in the flesh is more than enough to ignite the sparks that have been growing in Carlos’s stomach into a fire.

TK smiles sweetly at Carlos and then Carlos is on him, holding his face in place and cutting off TK’s “hey babe” by capturing TK’s lips in a hot kiss.

TK’s response is instant, his hands immediately going to grab at the back of Carlos’s t-shirt and he returns the kiss with the same fervor and heat. The kiss quickly turns messy, full of tongue, teeth and noses clashing.

Carlos swipes his tongue over TK’s bottom lip and proceeds to take TK’s same lip between his teeth, softly biting down just the way TK likes. And TK doesn’t hold back an inch of the heavy moan that escapes him at that.

The contrast in Carlos during these moments steals TK’s breath away, how Carlos can be so excited and on edge like this and is always very gentle at the same time. It makes TK’s head swim with how much he loves and wants Carlos.

Once he releases TK’s lip, Carlos moves down onto his neck, licking and sucking every patch of skin he comes in contact with. He takes it all in, inhaling TK’s scent, TK’s taste on his lips, TK’s small movements under his hold.

TK moves his head to the side and back, giving Carlos better access and exposing more skin for him. And by the small growl Carlos lets out, TK knows the larger man appreciates it.

“Who’s the tiger now?” TK says, teasing breathlessly.

He gets a small bite and swipe of a tongue over the area in response.

TK’s hand finds its way to Carlos’s loose curls, settling on Carlos’s head there.

Carlos then returns to TK’s face, giving him another heated kiss and it’s TK’s turn to hold Carlos’s face in his palms. Carlos is radiating heat, his face flushed red and the look he’s giving TK makes the paramedic shiver.

“Hmm,” TK hums, eyes glittering with pride. “I see it worked.”

Carlos watches TK for a few moments before replying, but then he instantly sees through a few things. The way TK walked into the condo, the flashes of pride on his face now, TK knew exactly what he was doing. And, oh.

“Wait,” Carlos’s eyebrows lift slightly. “Did you orchestrate this?”

TK can’t hold back, he drops his head for a second before meeting Carlos’s gaze again, his expression playful. “I think orchestrate is too big of a word…I saw an opportunity and made the best of it. Besides, I was looking forward to seeing and hearing what it did to you. Couldn’t wait to come home to this.”

Carlos shakes his head, intrigued and the thought that TK knew how Carlos would react and waiting to come home to him, to this, turns him on even more. Carlos doesn’t waste a single second in claiming TK’s lips in another passionate kiss. TK gives as good as he gets, and in an instant, he’s turning them around and pushing Carlos back against the wall behind them.

He pulls back, latching onto Carlos’s neck and peppering it with kisses and nibbles here and there.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about that video all damn day. You’re such a tease sometimes, you know that?” Carlos speaks, his voice husky as he runs his fingers through TK’s once-neat hair.

TK pulls back enough to answer Carlos. “Maybe,” he replies with a smirk. “I had something better than that video,” he adds with a pant and a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Carlos’s eyes go wide at that, starring directly into TK’s, the sheer want radiating from the officer’s brown eyes heat up TK’s face even more and makes his heat skip a beat. Carlos’s brain definitely conjures up an image of that selfie, and it increases the fire bubbling inside his stomach.

It stills makes TK a little dizzy and weak in the knees up until this day, every time he’s reminded the effect he has on Carlos, and it takes his breath away when he sees and feels how much Carlos Reyes wants him.

TK’s hands go back to Carlos’s face, cupping his cheeks and tenderly running his thumb over his cheekbones, Carlos leans into his touch and TK gives him a warm, soft smile.

“A selfie,” TK clarifies his last statement. “A sweaty selfie,” he purrs, his voice low and slow.

That’s all it takes for the little brown remaining in Carlos’s irises to completely fuse with the black now, his eyes not leaving TK’s flushed face.

“But Marjan beat me, posting that video and I knew it would also do the trick,” TK winks.

Carlos takes his own bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on his flesh while watching TK.

“Yeah, you always are a tease. A very sexy one,” he whispers before going back to showering TK’s neck with kisses.

“You love it,” TK quips back.

Carlos can’t see his face, but he knows the the smirk is widening on his boyfriend’s face, he can feel it. He’s pulling back slightly, his own face red and hot.

“You know I do,” Carlos replies, stealing TK’s breath with another kiss, but this one is more emotional. It’s like TK is his lifeline, and in more ways than one, he truly is.

TK doesn’t hold back, pouring everything he feels for Carlos into the kiss, the want, the love, the need for this man, and he deepens it, until they both become one, tangled together, not knowing where one end and the other begins. Neither of them know which of them is responsible for the moan that emits between them and neither of them care.

“I’m gonna need to see that selfie later,” Carlos heaves into the small space between them when they eventually separate. He cups TK’s face, running a thumb over TK’s kiss-swollen bottom lip.

They stop moving for a few moments, Carlos touching his forehead to TK’s and they just breathe together, breathe each other in, savouring this moment, engulfed in each other’s arms and love.

Carlos then brushes a tentative kiss to TK’s lips before pulling back and making his way to the stairs, his hand holding TK’s and pulling him along.

They hurry up the stairs and then it’s Carlos’s turn to gently push TK against the first wall they meet in their bedroom, framing TK’s body with his own. Carlos closes the distance between them, devouring TK’s lips, drinking TK in like he’s the first drop of water he has had in days.

Carlos grabs at TK’s hoodie, and they separate only long enough to remove it, followed by both of their shirts meeting somewhere on the floor. Carlos goes for TK’s belt next, whipping it off and discarding it somewhere near their shirts, the belt clattering on the floor where it lands.

TK pulls Carlos impossibly closer to him, their bare chests colliding and resting against each other. The mutual heat going off both of them in waves is almost too much to handle.

Carlos’s hands squeeze between them, finding their goal and unbuttoning TK’s jeans while TK’s go to the strings of Carlos’s sweats, pulling them loose.

“Off,” TK mumbles against Carlos’s lips.

“All in good time,” Carlos smirks in response.

TK is already so far gone he can scarcely believe it. His world has narrowed down to Carlos’s touches, his kisses, his beautiful skin and toned muscles. Narrowed down to Carlos.

The larger man pulls back, and something akin to a whine escapes TK’s lips at the loss of Carlos and his warmth. He doesn’t have too much time to dwell on it, though, because he’s being pulled towards the bed by Carlos and finds himself falling backwards on the mattress.

TK takes a second to adjust himself before Carlos is crawling on top of him, a hand on either side of TK’s head as he lowers himself and claims TK’s lips once again, a knee settling between TK’s open legs.

A hungry moan is heard from TK as he returns the kiss, his arms scrambling and wrapping around Carlos’s back, pulling him closer and then softly scratching his nails down the expanse of Carlos’s skin there, with just enough pressure he knows the officer likes.

He gets an immediate response from Carlos as he breaks the kiss and buries his face in TK’s neck, breathing a moan there.

Carlos begins to moves south, focusing on TK’s chest, every inch of it. He drops kisses here and there and stops at TK’s bullet wound scar, slightly discolored and standing out against the rest of TK’s skin.

His breath hitches a little at the reminder of just how close he had gotten to loosing TK, how close they had gotten to losing all of this. Flashes of that night take over his mind; hearing the radio call about a firefighter being shot after he had left the house, wishing he could take the first u-turn and race to the hospital while praying and praying it wasn’t TK. Having his heart ripped out of his chest when he finds out his fear had come true when Paul called him. Then hours later, standing in the hospital room doorway, tears clinging to his eyes, watching TK on the hospital bed, too still, too pale. Running his fingers through TK’s hair, and that time, unlike when TK would lean into his touch, getting no response. A light shudder runs through his body.

Knowing where Carlos’s thoughts have taken him, TK reaches out a hand and places it under Carlos’s chin, guiding his face towards him.

“Come back to me, ‘Los,” TK whispers. “I’m right here, baby.”

Carlos goes easily with him, looking into TK’s eyes and there’s so much he carries in those green irises, so much love and affection, so much promise and joy, accompanied with heat and want, and it’s all there for him.

Carlos nods and dives down, a passionate kiss erupting between them and TK lets Carlos take control and the lead, knowing that’s exactly what he needs right now. To feel TK, in every way. TK runs a hand through Carlos’s curls while the other cups his face.

“You’re beautiful, Ty,” Carlos admires. “Every inch of you, all of you, it’s you and it’s beautiful beyond words.”

The love and sincerity echoing off Carlos’s tone melts TK into a puddle. His heart swells in his chest at those words, knowing they come from the bottom of Carlos’s heart. He sees and feels the love Carlos has for him every minute of every day.

And TK will do everything in his power to make Carlos feel just as loved as he feels.

“You’re quite breathtaking yourself,” TK replies, his voice filled with emotion. “In every way. And it blows my mind that you’re mine.”

Carlos nods. “I am yours, and you are mine. My mind is just as blown as yours.”

They soon become a heap of tangled limbs, last pieces of clothing taken off and discarded here and there. The flame now burns brightly and hotly between them, the sparks surging through their bodies as they become one, electrified by each other in every way, roused by each other’s everything. They give each other their all, pouring everything they’re feeling and everything they are and it’s all understood, it’s reciprocated, it’s everything they need. And it’s perfect.

*****

Later in the night, TK is lying on his side of the bed, scrolling through Instagram when a text pops up on the top of his screen. He laughs when his eyes go over the words.

Marjan: You’re welcome, lover boy. ;)

TK: How did you even…

Marjan: Intuition. Also, I saw that Carlos watched that video. Plus, you looked smug leaving the firehouse after shift. Just putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

TK: I thought it was Paul’s thing to be, well…this.

Marjan: I have my moments, too.

Marjan: And Paul had agreed with me.

TK chuckles, hearing the smirk Marjan is most definitely wearing through her texts.

He hears footsteps making their way into the bedroom and he’s about to mention the text conversation to Carlos but the words stop short on his tongue when his eyes land on his boyfriend.

Carlos is standing tall, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, and in all his glory, is wearing TK’s black Austin FD hoodie.

And by the look decorating the officer’s face, he knows exactly what it’s doing to TK. Sure, it’s not a clingy t-shirt while working out, but he knows how much TK loves hoodies. It’s a subtle comeback, and with how TK is looking at him right now and the pink color painting his cheeks, it’s working.

The text messages go forgotten as TK’s eyes roam over Carlos’s figure, admiring the way his hoodie wraps around Carlos’s chest and arms. It’s a little snug at the biceps, and that just adds to the exquisite sight in front of him.

“Touché,” TK grins approvingly.

Carlos chuckles and pushes himself off the door frame, walking over and joining TK in bed.

“I was looking for it and then I remembered it was in the dryer,” Carlos says, pulling the blankets over them.

“I’m glad you found it,” TK winks and brushes a kiss to Carlos’s cheek. “You look good in my hoodie.”

He accepts the invitation of Carlos’s open arms and snuggles close, resting his head over Carlos’s chest and draping an arm over his middle.

“Hey, babe?”

“Hm?” Carlos looks at TK, his arm wrapped around his shoulder.

TK lifts his head so he looks into Carlos’s eyes. “I love you.”

Carlos’s face breaks into a soft smile, the smile that is reserved for only TK. “I love you, too, baby.”

They share a tentative kiss, tender and sweet.

“Oh!” TK says when they pull apart, his eyes sparkling as he reaches for his phone.

Carlos raises an amused eyebrow at his boyfriend and his phone pings a moment later.

He reaches for it and the text preview on his lock screen has him looking at TK with a fiery gaze.

TK blushes more under Carlos’s watch as a smirk takes over his face.

“You asked and you shall receive,” TK quips.

It’s the sweaty selfie Carlos was promised earlier. It’s more defined than the video, though the video had the grace of TK moving in that t-shirt, but the selfie holds the wonder of being up-close. The video hadn’t left anything to imagination, but the selfie goes a step further, not only showing the very satisfied look TK is wearing, but also showoff the edges of his well-defined abs, his strained biceps and the glint in his eyes, speaking volumes through the photo. It’s all on display for Carlos, and for Carlos only now.

And even though TK is right here, right next to him and he can reach out and touch everything in that picture, the selfie still leaves Carlos breathless. The effect TK has on him has Carlos going a little lightheaded, a familiar sensation of want brewing in his gut.

“Oh, Ty,” Carlos whispers before capturing TK’s lips in a kiss more heated than the previous one.

TK chuckles as he returns it, all-consumed by the rush that runs through his veins with his and Carlos’s tongues brush against each other.

“You know,” Carlos pants, his tongue darting out to swipe at his lips, TK following the gesture. “I have a couple more shirts you can borrow.”

“Hm,” TK replies, drawing in his own bottom lip between his teeth. “I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

Carlos smirks, a hand cupping TK’s face and runs his thumb over his cheek.

TK chuckles, a hand traveling to the nape of Carlos’s neck and pulls him in, connecting them with another kiss.

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it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream · 3 years

Text

Opposites attract (Paul Lahote x Reader) Chapter 4

Warnings: Swearing?

Word Count: 1.7k

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Life had a round about way of giving you what you had longed for all along.

You had spoke to Paul for hours up on the mountain side, the world around you quiet as the only thing you could focus on was him. You sat side by side, invisible sparks crackling between warm skin as he told you everything there was to know about your new found wolfiness. He reassured you that even though you were mates, it didn’t mean you had to feel pressured into anything, an imprint was there to be anything for their other half, a friend, a lover.. You shivered at the sound of being Paul Lahote’s lover, you had to stop yourself from pinching yourself a few times.

It was dark by the time you made the descent down the frosty mountain, in normal circumstances you would have most likely died of hypothermia by now, but as you’d established, life was anything but normal.

You were laughing at something Paul had said when you heard a twig snap in the distance, it caught Pauls attention to, he tensed, pushing you behind him. Your face scrunched against his back as a foul smell invaded your senses and that’s when it happened.

A flash of red hair was all it took for your body to start quivering.

—————————————————————————---------------

“So that was a vampire?” You were changing back into clothing, your other stuff shredded in the shift. “I thought they would look… less human?” Your nose scrunched up when you thought about the vampire stench that came off the one they called Victoria.

You looked towards Paul who was tense with a capital T. He was mad that he didn’t sense her approach sooner, hating the fact that you were newly shifted and still had much to learn about being a wolf. What if something had happened to you? Luckily the red headed vamp disappeared when you and Paul started chasing her, the pack had followed behind in a second, your link alerting them to the threat nearby.

You walked closer to him, scared that he might be too angry. His back was rippling and his muscles tensed. Your small warm hand reached up to touch the space between his shoulder blades and it was like magic. In an instant he relaxed as invisible electrical current crackled between your skin.

He turned slowly and looked down at you, his gaze warm and calm when he looked into your eyes. He took your hand and pulled you into him, your bodies colliding in a much needed embrace, his chin resting on the top of your head. You sighed and snuggled your face into his toned chest as his arms came around you like a cocoon of safety.

“Yes Y/N, that, was a vampire. The only reason she’s here is because of the fucking Cullens and their pet project.” You felt his jaw tense on the top of your head, your hands rubbing small circles on the lower part of his back.

“What do you mean their pet project?” You hadn’t found out about Bella yet and her involvement with the Cullens. Vampires were your natural enemy now, but some part of you still found it romantic that a blood sucking demon fell in love with a human. A human that you didn’t really know, had only met in passing when she was little and used to visit the Blacks. Since then, you’d never seen her again, but by the sounds of things, you’d be seeing her very soon.

Sam had agreed to helping the Cullens. The pack had a treaty with them but it was unheard of for Wolves and Vampires to help each other, at least that’s what you were told anyway, you were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that when you got angry a bushy tail would maybe appear.

Alice, one of the Cullens, could see the future? Honestly things were still feeling like a dream. Anyway, she could see the future and had a vision of a big bad newborn vampire army appearing from the watery depths below and invading forks. Naturally the Cullens would have handled it on their own if they could, but the numbers predicted were too many and they needed help. That’s where you guys came in. They would never see you coming.

“So were going to learn how to fight these newborns?” Paul had sat down while giving you the lowdown, his arms never leaving your waist, he just plopped you on his knee instead. You felt him tense again.

“Paul if you tense anymore you’re going to break a bone.” Your fingers found the back of his head, playing with and twisting the dark hair at the nape of his neck.

“You’re not going to learn to fight anything.” That made you halt your finger twirling. You looked at him with a scowl and he raised an eyebrow as if saying “try me.”

“Im a wolf like the rest of you now, just because i’m your soulmate doesn’t mean I shouldn’t know how to defend myself or learn how to.. you know… be a frikin wolf! What if you weren’t around and some vampire came about and boom, Y/N doesn’t know how to defend herself, then what?” You stood up from his lap, pacing slightly in front of him.

“I’ll never leave your side so you don’t have to worry about that babe.” That made your heart flutter but also angered you at the same time.

“As much as I love that Paul, it’s not realistic, what if Sam sends me off with other members of the pack or what if something comes up and you’re just not around? You can’t guarantee that you’ll always be around.” You watched Paul huff. Actually huff life a child would when they were told off.

“Awh come on you big baby, i’ll be fine!” You were interrupted by Sam and Emily coming through the door, Quil, Embry and Jake following behind, Leah coming in seconds after the rest.

“Who’s fine where, what?” Leah grabbed a cookie from a bowl Emily put out, she still want gotten over the feeling of betrayal when Sam left her to go to Emily, but you thought you saw a glimpse of… something there. Maybe she was getting used to being around them and the guys more. You’d like to think it would help now that you’d be around too, she had a confidant, a shoulder to lean on. You’d have to talk to her after, when you were both alone, find out if she was okay with everything going on. It’s not exactly like you could help it, but still, you wouldn’t be a good friend if you didn’t at least check in.

“Nothing, Paul is just worried about me learning to fight with the rest of you guys, you know, for the big, impending doom of the vampire army.” Sam frowned.

“I have to admit, I kinda agree with Paul on this one.” Leah stopped munching on her cookie when Sam finished his sentence. Embry and Quil looked around awkwardly and Jake wasn’t really paying too much attention.

“The training starts in two days and you’ve only just turned for the first time today, it might be too early for you to gain control over your wolf.”

You couldn’t believe Sam was siding with Paul. What the hell was the point of you turning and being chosen to be a Wolf, being told you’d have to give up everything you’d been working towards, for you to then be told you can’t fight and do what the fuck you were designed to now do.

“This is bullshit. I was perfectly fine being a normal girl, studying, working towards something I’d been dreaming of my whole life. Now this happens and you tell me i’m not ready. Whatever.” Leah stood at the same time you did, you heard Paul’s chair scrape back.

“Babe come on, it’s not like that.” You glared at him.

“Then what’s it like Paul, because i’m sure if I was a guy and didn’t have an imprint and the roles were reversed, i’d be training with the rest of you, newly shifted or not.” You grabbed your phone and house keys and made your way to the door, Leah walking beside you, most likely knowing exactly how you felt.

——————————————————————————————————

The next morning you woke to 20 missed calls and 40 texts, mostly from Paul a couple from Sam, one from Emily and even one from Jake. You snorted as you turned over in bed, noticing Leah sprawled out like a starfish, mouth hanging open, hair in every direction. Same old Leah.

You opened the message from Emily, wondering what she would have to say, she wasn’t someone you’d really spoke to before because of the whole love triangle but she seemed nice.

“I spoke to Sam about how unfair it was for you to miss out, all sorted ;)” .. what the hell did that mean?

Then you read the messages from Sam. “Training starts tomorrow at 8am, don’t be late, sorry about what happened the other day, i’m not used to having a pair of imprints in the pack.”

You could see where he was coming from. As the leader it was probably hard to always please everyone and Sam was obviously siding with Paul because he’d been part of his pack longer, friends when they were younger and he knew what it felt like to have the need to protect your mate. Still, they would just have to get used to it.

Leah soon woke and then left, pack duties. You would be put on duties soon enough, but first, you needed training. So that left you with a day of doing nothing, well, that was until you heard a knock on your.. bedroom window?

You grabbed the first thing that was closest to you for protection, a hairdryer. You hadn’t opened your curtains yet so couldn’t see what horror awaited, what if that red headed vamp followed you, but wait, wouldn’t you smell her? Or are your abilities not heightened enough yet? You got closer to the window when there was a knock again. The closer you got the happier you felt. Frikin Paul. Curtains pulled back, balcony door opened, your soulmate stumbled through wearing nothing but shorts.

“Babe, you’re a werewolf, were you seriously going to attack me with a hairdryer?"

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@mariasblogsworld @rosella26 @punkfrogz @jjpogueprincess

@angeliken

@yoongitoo

@stinkii-boii

@geminidas

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yespolkadotkitty · 3 years

Note

I’ll Be by Edwin McCain came on the other day and instantly got me into my Zach feels. Something about it was so him - the mood, the 90s, the flannel. The line “rain falls angry on the tin roof as we lie awake in my bed” in particular sticks with me. If you have time, can I get a little nugget of Zach? Fluff or smut, or fluff with a wee kernel or smut? I love your writing.

Right so as discussed you didn’t ask for a multichapter fic but as I’ve got 4 chapters so far LET’S DO THIS

So many shoutouts for this so here goes:

THANKYOU @kindablackenedsuperhero for this STUNNING BANNER.

THANKYOU @thestrawberry-thief for US library advice

THANKYOU @heatherbel for the beta and UK library advice

THANKYOU @knittingqueen13 for the encouragement

THANKYOU @pedropascallion for the library clerk advice!

THANKYOU @disgruntledspacedad and @alienprincesspoop for screaming with me about this fic.

Chapter One

Warnings: Scenes of assault, attempted sexual assault ~ Words: 1380

Pairing: Zach Wellison x OFC Martha Song

Walk with your keys in your hand and keep a key between each finger.

Watch your shadows and reflections - a split second’s notice is better than none.

If they take you and put you in the trunk, kick out the headlights.

These are all things girls are taught from a young age. Things I knew, almost unconsciously. Things that were smart.

But did knowing these things stop me from taking a shortcut through the park after the sun had set?

No, they did not.

I had my hand in my pocket, around the keys. I did not have headphones on - needed to hear if someone was approaching.

Usually, I did all the safe things at night. Walked in the road if it was appropriate, so someone would have to come out from the pavements and buildings to grab me. Stuck to well lit areas.

But, well, I was tired, and hungry for the Chinese takeout leftovers in my fridge, could already taste the sticky pork ribs in my mind, and I took the lazy, unsafe shortcut.

I’m sure the media would have blamed me for what happened next.

I heard them before I saw them. I turned slightly. Two guys, one wearing a beanie, another with his hood up.

It wasn’t even seven pm, but in January the sun set earlier, and darkness had descended, filling up all the corners that daylight usually illuminated.

I quickened my pace. I’m sure they’re just coming off shift.

“Hey, babe,” one of them called.

I glanced around. No one else in the vicinity, and the park spread flat enough for me to see. A single streetlight ahead beckoned and I headed for it, the bag of books from work on my back slowing me down.

I thought about ditching it, but: books. I value books more than anything. I couldn’t sacrifice them even for my own benefit.

“Not gonna stop and talk?” the other one called.

They’re just cat-callers, nothing to worry about.

It was just shy of seven in the evening - where the fuck was everyone? LA should have been busy, was always bustling, but I had somehow chosen the one time where this section of the popular park was empty.

“Come on baby, spare a little sugar?” the first one called. Their steps got closer. The second one was snickering and I felt the little mouse of fear skitter down my spine.

I clenched my keys tighter. Shouldn’t have taken the shortcut.

The streetlight got closer, and I watched it, saw the first guy’s shadow with a hair’s breadth of notice. I spun as he reached me, the keys poking out between my fingers, but I was scared and all my punch did was piss him off.

“Pretty girl,” he half wheezed as he grabbed for me. “Don’t pretend you don’t want it.”

I struggled. Under the streetlamp I caught a glimpse of the first guy’s face, straggly mousy brown beard, cold eyes. The pit of my stomach fell.

“Let me.” Guy two was at my back, hands on my waist. He smelled of alcohol and something like old food, and bile rose up in my throat. “Loosen up, baby, we only wanna make you feel good.”

I tried to shout, but the noise died on my tongue. Fear had clutched itself around my body and the muscles weren’t responding. My keys fell from my fist.

Help, I thought. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as the first guy slid his hand down my body.

No, no, no.

Then suddenly a rush of adrenaline hit my veins - come on, what would Katniss Everdeen do? - and I shoved my knee up into guy one’s groin. Not as hard as I wanted to, but he cried out, a litany of swear words falling from his lips. I kicked out, but guy two was stronger, and had an arm around my throat before I could move.

“Come on now. Don’t be like that,” he cajoled, his sour breath licking at my cheek.

By then guy one had recovered, his face caught in a snarl, white skin pasty under the streetlight. I felt like I was in a sort of backwards ballet, a dystopian dance where there was no way I could make the right moves.

“Hey, assholes.”

The new voice, deep, with a bit of Texas drawl, made me turn.

A man, mostly in shadow, a large duffel bag by his feet, wielded what looked like a big section of industrial metal pipe.

Guy two huffed out a laugh. “Oh look, it’s the little soldier boy and he brought a new toy with him.”

“Let her go, man,” the stranger called out, taking a step closer.

Guy one had recovered from my knee to his dick. “Or you’ll do what?” He grabbed for me again, but he was distracted by my would-be rescuer, so I took the opportunity to knee him again, but this time, like I meant it, like my life depended on it.

He buckled, and the release meant I could drive my elbow back into guy two’s kidneys. He was stronger, through, and he tightened his arm around my throat. I grabbed for his wrist, scrabbling, barely noticing the stranger moving out of my sight.

“Duck!” He yelled, and I summoned all my strength to yank my head down.

In a moment, a loud thunk confirmed my suspicions, the sound of metal on flesh and bone, and guy two toppled like a tree.

Breathless, I turned to scoop up my keys, and stared at my knight in - dirty jeans. He was panting, his arms still holding the pipe up.

“You okay?” he asked, and I saw him clearly under the streetlamp, the glow picking out the gold in his brown-sugar hair. A patchy beard, more stubble than anything, hugged his well defined jaw. His eyes were soft, kind, the deep brown of hot cocoa.

“I am thanks to you.”

Below him, guy one writhed on the floor and, feeling too angry to think, I stomped on the part of him closest to me, his hand.

He cried out and I couldn’t have cared less.

“You wanna call the cops?” the stranger asked, but his tone was wary. As if I might have been just as likely to call the law about him as the attackers.

I thought it over. I’d likely be raked over the coals for having the audacity to walk alone at night (as if anytime after sundown could be counted as night) and my attackers would get a wrist slap. If that.

“Nah.” But I stomped on guy one’s wrist again for good measure.

He whined.

“C’mon,” Brown Eyes said. “I’ll walk you to the edge of the park.” He set the pipe on his shoulder and crossed over to the waiting duffle bag. It was the size of his torso. I took in his weathered, unshaven appearance, and wondered if the canvas fabric contained his every worldly possession.

I checked behind me, but the stranger was quick to reassure. “They won’t be back for a couple days.”

“You’ve… seen them before?”

He ducked his head, and in the glow from a nearby streetlamp I saw a faint flush of rose on his cheeks. “I’m... here a lot.”

He’s homeless. But of course I didn’t say it out loud.

We reached the edge of the park. People milled about, some queueing outside a deli popular for its pizza sold by the cheesy, greasy slice.

I didn’t miss the way the stranger’s head jerked up towards the scent of pizza.

How long since he’d eaten?

“Want some pizza?” I asked.

Something unreadable passed over his face. “I’m not a charity case.”

“Oh, but I am?”

His head whipped around. “What?”

“Did you come to my defence just now because you felt sorry for me? Oh look, there’s a woman of colour being attacked, gosh I feel sorry for her-”

“No, of course not, what the-” then he huffed out a laugh. “Touchė.”

“It’s just pizza. And a thank-you. I’m Martha.” I held out a hand.

He looked down at my outstretched palm for a second, as if surprised that I wanted to touch him. Then he shook my hand, his own large, warm, callused. “Zach.”

***********

Tagging: @thegreenkid @reluctantlyresponsibleadult @littlemissthistle @havenforafrazzledmind @myheart-pedro @john-in-the-sky-with-paul @idreamofboobear @rae-gar-targaryen @miulola @abuttoncalledsmalls @buttercup-bee @strangelittlenobody @qseomilk @jazzelsaur @songsformonkeys @mourningbirds1 @pajamasecrets @myoxisbroken @just-the-hiddles @skdubbs @nelba @badassbaker @nelba @f0rever15elf @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @mylittlelonelyappreciation @theravenreads @filthybookworm @aeryntheofficial @toomanystoriessolittletime @lannister-slings-and-arrows (Zach Pit) and @absurdthirst might like this <3

please ask to be added or released from the tags!!

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reignstormz · 3 years

Text

✓WORK IT OUT ✓

|IMAGINE; PART ONE|

INTRO; You run into a handsome man at the gym, well, maybe in a different way than you had hoped. You never intended to go any further with him despite how interested you really were, but one touch led to another, and things got really nasty.

WORD COUNT; 5,023? (idk tbh Tumblr is tripping)

WARNINGS; Sexual content ahead, read at your own risk. Also, covid doesn't exist in this imagine. Also, there's a part two to this! Keep your eyes open!

CAST; You (Y/N) / Roman Reigns / Jey Uso /Paul Heyman.

🦋Tampa, Florida 🦋

🦋 February 20th, 2021🦋

You walked into EOS fitness gym, with absolutely no energy or motivation in your body. The emotions you felt all week had tugged you down, including this morning; Tired, gloomy, unhappy, nonetheless, heartbroken. It's been two weeks, or maybe one--you definitely weren't counting, since you had found out on Valentine's Day that your ex had been sleeping around with other women. Two in fact, and caught him right in the act. In you're house, in you're bed, meanwhile, you've given this man everything. A five year relationship, gone down the drain. You started to wonder what you did wrong, or what you could've done better to make him not make the mistakes he made.

Were you not pretty enough? Were you not pleasing him enough? Were you boring? Why did he treat you the way he did? and how could he betray you like that? All of those questions ran through your mind. In all honesty, none of it was your fault. The problem was, from the very beginning, you didn't love yourself. You didn't appreciate your value, and when you don't appreciate your value, you leave a window of opportunity for another person to do the same, and that's exactly what happened. However, you were still lost. You tried to do anything, absolutely anything to get this mess off of your mind. The last resort was the gym, and maybe that was just the thing to help for the time being.

It was about six in the morning, and rarely anyone was there except for about a three or five people. You liked it better that way anyway, working out when the gym was packed irritated you to the fullest. Walking further into the building made goosebumps rise all over your skin due to the air conditioning blasting throughout the gym. You sighed dreadfully, slowly taking off your jacket as you hopped onto the treadmill.

"I knew I should've worn a long-sleeved shirt," You scolded yourself. As you hit the button, putting the speed only on number two, you slid your earbuds into your ear and played the playlist of your liking while you walked. You stared the treadmill's screen ahead of you, until you noticed someone else walk into the gym. It was a man. You looked down briefly before you did a double take, gosh, such a beautiful man. It was like you were hallucinating, even though you weren't.

"Damn.." You muttered under your breath as you stared at the handsome guy. He was tall, muscular, had olive-like toned skin, black long hair that fell to his shoulders, and a beard that covered his angelic face. You're eyes traced his every move as he made his way over to the weights, where all the jacked, crazy fit individuals typically stayed in the gym. Today though, it was just him. He was wearing a white, long-sleeved shirt which caused his muscles to show through, including some black sweatpants.

It was too early in the morning for this, you thought. He dropped his bag next to the bench, and wrapped his hair into a neat bun. You're mouth watered at the sight at him, but you quickly snapped out of it. You needed a distraction, but that was far from what you needed, especially from another dude. Stay focused, you reminded yourself continuously. You decided to put the treadmill on higher speed, figuring that if you were at a running pace, then you would've gotten your attention back. Long story short, your resolution didn't solve.

You're eyes worked against you, slowly looking forward once again to see him. He had a heavy set of weights on his shoulders, while squatting over and over again. Not only did his capability of strength make you drool, something else did as well underneath it. His ass, was unreal. If you could just reach out and touch it, you probably would've. Deep down, you were a little mad at yourself for not toughing it out, but you couldn't help it. He looked so sexy, and you could watch him all day.

Little did you know, the beautiful man before you, was completely aware that he had an audience. Well, you were his audience after all. As he worked out, there was a mirror in front of him and he caught your glance in his reflection. Even though you were a little too far away to notice him looking, the mirror gave him a better view to look at everything that surrounded him. He smirked to himself, admiring the woman behind him. The fact that you most likely had no idea that you had his attention, made him chuckle a bit as his legs began to burn from the squats, but he decided to keep going, hoping that your attention would stay fixated on him.

Roman was also a single man, a mafia boss to say the least. He kept his identity more on the low, and rarely let anyone in his circle. His trust issues were thin, but he had a big heart that he deeply wanted to share with someone else. The Samoan had been with other women in the past, but never found someone that completed him fully; The money, relevancy, extravagant lifestyle, and everything in between he had, often found himself in situations where he was used, they were never with him because they truly loved him. Now, he's focused on himself for awhile and his empire he's been working on for years, however, if the right woman were to walk into his life, he wouldn't hesitate to give it a chance.

Before you knew it, something awful happened. You were so lost into the mysterious man, that you had accidentally stepped in front of your left foot, tripping yourself and you lost all of your balance. A huge thud echoed across the gym, and you held your head in pain after you slid off of the treadmill. The few people that were in the gym slightly gasped, and after a few seconds, awkwardly went back to what they were doing. Assholes, but you were too out of it in order to notice. You bit your lip, trying your best to hold back tears at how bad the fall was to your head. You're eyes were closed shut, and you were about to attempt to get back up until a large hand rested on the small of your back, stopping you.

"Are you okay, Mama?" The deep, montone voice asked gently. It was smooth like butter, yet chilling. You had no idea who it was still due to how unconscious you were.

You slightly turned around on your back, and your arm naturally rested around the person's neck as he lifted your body up with his arm. You're eyelids slowly lifted back open, but your vision wasn't all the way there yet. Who was talking to you? You turned your head to the left, seeing who had come to help you. Since you were still a little dizzy, you were seeing double vision of the person in front of you. Once your head finally stopped spinning for a second, you were finally able to determine who was it front of you, and it was him. His pretty brown eyes, stared into yours with concern as you stared back into his, nervous out of your mind. It couldn't get anymore embarrassing than this.

You gulped, avoiding his gaze. A lie was told by the nod of your head, despite being hurt, "Yeah, I'm fine-"

"No, stay." He warned politely as you tried to stand up fully. His arm was secure around your waist, and then his eyes trailed up to your head. The look in his eye softened even more, "You're bleeding."

You furrow you're eyebrows, going to touch your head. You sigh, looking at the marks of blood on your fingers, "Shit..I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" The man chucked, and rubbed a small circle on your back before getting up to get a paper towel from the nearby wall. He squatted back down to your level and gently put it against your wound. You winced a little at the pain, but took deep breaths in between. As he continued to wipe some of the blood off your head, you on the other hand stared at him the entire time. From far away, he was out of this world fine, but up close was even better. Looking at him was like being hypnotized.

"What's your name?" You asked bluntly.

He alternated looks between your eyes and your head, and smiled small, "Roman, and yours?"

Damn, and you thought he couldn't look anymore good. His smile was..

"So sexy.." You blurted out, thinking at first that you said it in your head, but you didn't. Shit, you thought. You lowered your head, closing your eyes from embarrassment. Roman paused from wiping your head, and stared at you a little bit from what you said. His lips turned into a smirk, with his tongue lightly brushing over them.

"So are you," He shoots back. What did he just say? Your eyes widened a tiny bit and you lifted your head up to meet his glance. Roman gave you a subtle wink before getting up, and throwing the paper towel in the trash can. He walked back to you, giving out his hand for you to take.

"Come on," Roman nodded his head towards the gym with a comforting smile. "Let's get out of here."

Depending on how hard you hit your head, you were still a little out of it and wasn't sure what to make out of this situation. Were you really about to leave with a guy you barely even knew? Despite how fine he was, a part of you thought this was a terrible idea, and made zero sense if you went through with it. However, you didn't care. The stars that you were seeing currently, especially when you looked at him gave you butterflies in your stomach that were unexplainable, and you just couldn't say no. Who was he? You needed to know.

A slow, small grin appeared on your face as you hesitantly took his hand, letting him take you wherever he wanted to go.

⏩

After about an hour or two of slumber, your eyes flew open, slightly closing due to the lights piercing through the ceiling. You blinked a couple of times, and realized there was something cold on the top of your head. You furrowed your eyebrows, bringing your hand up and gently touching the ice pack that was laid there. Then, you slowly sat up, setting the ice pack next to you as you looked around at your surroundings. You had a brown, fuzzy blanket wrapped around your body and you were laid against a long, white couch.

Not to mention, the living room that you were in was extremely huge. You had a hard time remembering exactly how you got here. All you remembered was that you were at the gym, you saw a handsome man; What was his name, Roman? You thought. After that you face planted on the treadmill, and he went to help you, anything after that was a complete blur. Where were you right now?

You turned your head to the left, and saw the night life outside of the window. Thousands of lights, and the settle stars of the night sky had you in awe. As you continued to stare at the view, a voice interuppted, "You alright, Uce?"

You jumped back a little, putting a hand on your chest from feeling startled. You looked ahead to see a brown-skinned, attractive man with unqiue tattoos on both of his arms and a gold chain around his neck. He was very swagged out, from head to toe. You looked him up and down, and slightly tilted your head, "Excuse me?"

"How are you feeling?" He repeated, looking at you weirdly. Did she not understand the slang? But the again, it was Samoan slang, not everyone understood it off the bat, He thought. You sighed, slightly face-plamimg your forehead gently before apologizing once again, "I'm sorry, Who are you? and how did I get here?"

"Jey Uso," He introduced shortly. I stared at him blankly, still having no clue who he was. He sighed, pointing at a picture of three children on the wall, "Roman's cousin?"

You looked at the picture, seeing Jey, another kid who looked exactly like him and Roman who I believed was in the middle. You wanted to coo at how adorable the picture was, but you were still confused. Damn, they're cousins? So is everyone attractive in his family or is it just them? Besides, why is he here anyway, standing there like some guard? Was he watching you this entire time?

"You guys are cousins?" I ask in disbelief. He nodded quietly, looking a little confused as to why I was surprised, "What, he didn't tell you?"

"No, because I just met the guy?" I say dumbfoundedly, "And I have no idea how I even got here in the first place. I need to go back home." You plead, starting to get a little nervous.

"Relax, this is Roman's place. He only brought you here because you got hurt at the gym and he didn't think it was safe enough for you to be driving back home." He informs, "I'll actually go get him, now that you're awake."

Before you could open your mouth to speak, he left the room. You sighed, and then thought a little about what he said afterwards. You knew that this was nice of him to do, and it did mean a lot that he cared, but you were still on the fence about being at a random guy's house you didn't know too well. Roman's intentions were in the right place, but this was the last thing you needed to be involved in right now. You were focusing on yourself, and yourself only, and it just hurt too much to have someone else in the picture at the moment. It wasn't the time to catch feelings or be interested in someone new, especially him, he was too fine and you knew it would be too easy to give in.

As you played with your fingers, the two gentleman stepped into the room, making you look up. Roman looked back at you with a soft, yet relieved expression as Jey stood behind him. He was wearing a dark blue muscle shirt, that showed a long, tribal patterned tattoo that covered his entire right arm, along with Jordans on his feet to match with his shirt. It's like this man had so many secrets about him that you had no idea about, the tattoo was like the perfect touch and made him look even more sexy than he already was, it also was identical to his cousin's. He turned his head, whispered something to Jey. He nodded his head and walked away, leaving you and Roman alone.

"Hey, sleeping beauty." Roman called you, which made you chuckle a bit, making you a less nervous. You watched him make his way over to you, and he sat down, putting the pack of ice on the coffee table in front of you.

"How's your head?" He asked, gently putting his fingertips under your chin, trying to get a good look at it which sent shivers down your spine. You licked your lips subtly, watching him but you sighed, closing your eyes. Get over yourself, Y/N.

"It's fine, um.." You trailed off, grabbing his soft, large hand and took it off of your chin. You really didn't want to let his hand go either, but you had to listen to your pride.

"Listen, I think I should go." You suggest, standing up from the couch and he looked up at you, clearly not wanting you to leave.

Shit, was I coming on too strong? Roman thought. This might've been an unusual way to approach a woman, but the moment he met you at the gym, he just knew he had to get to know you more. There was something about you, that pulled him in and had his full interest. You were beautiful, out of this world gorgeous, your body and the way the heavens shaped you drove him crazy, and the way you looked at him made Roman feel something that he doesn't feel everyday. Usually he was a bit more straight forward on what he wanted, and he wouldn't have to tell anyone twice for him to have it. He had a whole different side to him, that you had no clue about, but that's because you were different to him. He wanted to be careful with you.

Before Roman could respond, You felt around your neck and realized that it was completely bare. You froze and your blood ran completely cold. You remember going to the gym wearing a gold necklace that had your name written in cursive, which was a valuable gift of yours that you received on your birthday years ago. You never took it off, and you thought you might've lost it when you got hurt. Fuck, you thought, starting to feel upset all over again.

Roman realized a change in your mood, and he raised his eyebrow shortly, "What's wrong?"

You shook your head, not wanting to stress about it, even though deep down you were, "Nothing."

Roman looked at where your hand was, which was motioning at your neck. He then remembered the gold necklace that you dropped when you both walked out of the gym. He made sure to get it for you before you guys left.

"Are you missing something, gold maybe?" He teased playfully, knowing that you didn't want to worry him. Your eyes widened and you snapped his head at him, how did he even know that?

"You have it?" You say in a hopeful tone, with a brief smile on your face. He smiled back, with a light-hearted chuckle which made your heart melt, "Yeah, I got it. I'll go get it."

Roman stood up, and then looked back at you, "Just promise me you won't leave once I give it to you." You sighed in relief, and nodded agreeing. He left the room, leaving the room to get your necklace. You admired how kind he was, especially how much of a gentleman he was. He didn't have to help you at all or care about your well being, but he did. Give it a chance, go for it, you tried convincing yourself. It seemed like he also was interested, but then your insecurities kicked in, there was no way a guy like him would be interested in someone like you. There were you again, second guessing yourself. You just wished you didn't get yourself involved in this situation to begin with.

Roman went to his office, and picked up your necklace from his desk. He read your name quietly to himself, "Y/N..."

Such a gorgeous name, he thought. As if she couldn't seem any more perfect that she was. He smirked to himself, staring at your necklace for a couple of seconds before returning to the living room. Roman motioned you to turn around, and you followed, letting him put the necklace around your neck. Once it was, you touched it, thanking God in your head that you didn't lose it. You then turned around, facing him. You were more closer to him than you thought you would be. Roman stared down at you, looking into your eyes as you stared into his brown ones. The things you would do to him, you bit your lip and was able to pry away from his stare, backing up a away from him a bit.

Damn it, Roman cursed to himself. He cleared his throat, backing away from you, hoping he wasn't making you feel uncomfortable, even though you weren't. On the other hand, you were just hoping you wouldn't make a fool out of yourself again.

"I was just kidding about what I said earlier," He said. You looked back up at him, wondering what he was talking about. He smiled small, "If you still want to leave, I'd be happy to take you home."

You couldn't help but hold back a smile, finding his gestures heart warming. I guess showing your appreciation wouldn't hurt, in your way. You raised your hand to his cheek, holding it gently and tilted your head, kissing his other cheek sweetly.

"Thank you, Roman." You said appreciatively. His eyes were glued onto you, not being able to tear them off of you. Roman's blood turned warm, and his heart that was already racing began to go even faster. It's like there was a glow around you, that nobody else could see except for him. You were a diamond in the rough, angel in disguise, a woman that should be treated like a queen. He didn't know if you were seeing anyone else, but quite frankly he didn't care. You were going to belong to him soon.

"Are you good?" You asked, trying to get his attention. Roman nodded, trying to disregard his thoughts before he said them out loud, which he did most of the time.

"Yeah," He says. Roman picked up his keys off of the coffee table, and looked down back at you, not being able to look away from your beauty, "After you." He insisted, wanting you to go first. You nervously smiled, thanking him again silently before you walked in front of him. He took the opportunity take a look at your rear end, he bit his lip and sighed. All that, will be mine he said to himself in his head before he went and followed you.

➰

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beatlesdumpsterfire · 3 years

Text

For @pushmipulluridesagain's prompt:

The Beatles go to Target

Brian should have known better than to give the boys the day off, completely unsupervised. Even John, Paul, George, and Ringo were shocked. In fact, they were so shocked that they couldn’t think of a single thing to do to fully take advantage of Brian’s huge mistake.

So, they found themselves in the sitting room of George’s flat, staring around at each other with blank looks plastered across their faces. Finally, John was the one to break the silence with a suggestion:

“Why don’t we go to Target?”

It wasn’t the most exciting option out there, but it sure was something, and it was a lot better than sitting around like their wax figures at Madame Tussauds. None of the other boys had any better ideas to offer, so that was that. Before Brian could change his mind, they all piled into George’s car and sped off to their local Target.

“Are we looking for anything specific?” Paul asked the car. Ringo turned around from the passenger seat and grinned back at Paul.

“It doesn’t matter if there’s something specific we’re looking for, we’re bound to walk out with a cart full of things we didn’t even know we needed.”

“I once went to Target looking for a screwdriver and I came out with an inflatable lawn decoration,” George mused. “I don’t think I’ve even taken it out of the box though.”

“There’s something about Target, it just sucks you dry,” Paul thought aloud. He paused for a second and quickly turned to John, who was obviously on the verge of making a bad joke. “Don’t you dare say it,” Paul warned him.

John luckily listened, which saved him from a hefty slap from Paul, and instead shared some wisdom he had picked up from a TikTok he saw the other day.

“You know, I heard somewhere that you can steal a certain amount of stuff from Target and they won’t stop you. They keep track of what you take, but they’ll only pull the authorities in when you’ve surpassed a certain dollar amount of stolen goods. It’s so they can charge it as a serious felony, I think.”

“Huh,” Ringo thought aloud. “So I could steal just under that amount and waltz out of the store?”

“I doubt it’s that black and white,” Paul interjected. “If they catch you taking something, they’re bound to stop you, right?”

“Why don’t we test it, lads?” John grinned. Paul let out a groan; he should have seen where that conversation was going. He had been a fool to assume they were going to take an innocent trip to Target.

“I’m game,” George said from behind the steering wheel. “We were bound to do something stupid today, I’m glad we figured out what that was.”

“Sounds like fun,” Ringo chirped happily. “I’ve never stolen anything before.”

“You haven’t either, have you, Paul?” John teased Paul.

“I have too,” Paul murmured. He had pocketed a single bean from the grocery store when he was 5 and, while his mom made him return the bean to one of the employees working there, he still felt it counted.

John could see straight through Paul’s fib, but he was confident that his mate would participate, as much as he acted like he was against it. Knowing that they were all on board to rob a Target got John feeling especially energized: he couldn’t wait to kick capitalism in the shins.

“Let’s make a competition out of it, Lads,” he announced, clapping his hands together. “30 minutes on the clock, whoever comes out with the most impressive collection of items wins.”

“What’s the prize?” George asked.

“Bragging rights,” John decided. None of the other boys were especially happy about that but, considering they were going to rob a store, they were all already kind of winning something in a sense.

“And one last thing,” John added, “if you get caught, you’ll be disqualified.”

“That’s straight-forward enough to me,” George nodded as he turned into the Target parking lot. “We’ll meet back at the car once our 30 minutes is up then?”

“Yeah,” John said.

“You’re going to get your asses handed to you!” Ringo cackled, unbuckling his seatbelt and rushing into the store before anyone could even set a timer. Paul, John, and George all exchanged tired glances; they knew Ringo was about to do something stupid.

And, of course, they were right. Ringo tore into the Target, the bell dinging above his head as he scanned around the store, his heart beating up into his throat with a wild look in his eyes. He needed to prove to his mates that he could be the best thief out there, one that was bound to earn their utmost respect. Ringo hadn’t really listened to the rules all that much, but he felt that he got the overall gist of the competition: he just had to take the biggest and most impressive thing and not get caught. That was a piece of cake because he, Ringo Starr, was the Master of Deception.

Ringo sprinted for the electronics department, nearly taking out an older gentleman and a mannequin in the process. The mannequin slowly toppled over, flattening the older gentleman behind Ringo, giving him the most action he had received in well over 50 years.

“Ooh!” the older man squealed.

Ringo made it to the section with the really big televisions and felt his pupils dilate tenfold.

“Yes,” he breathed out. Sure, there were three Target employees on the floor nearby, but Ringo was the Master of Deception. He had this in the bag. He managed to slow his breathing down to a pace that didn’t make him look like a rabid animal, and sauntered to the biggest TV in the store. Ringo looked it up and down and then smiled. He was gonna win this thing so hard. He looked to the left, making direct eye contact with one of the employees, and then looked to the right, making direct eye contact with the other employee, and then turned back to the TV. And, in one big grunt, he dislodged the TV from the wall and proceeded to shove it down his pants.

Both employees probably would have made more of an effort to stop him if they hadn’t been so thrown off guard by the fact that he had just put an 80 inch TV down his rear. It was a mystery how he was able to fit that screen in there, but somehow he did it.

Well, Ringo was the Master of Deception after all, I guess he was just doing what he did best.

While the TV was semi-concealed, the latter half of it stuck out of the seat of Ringo’s pants and rose well-above his head, so there was no denying what he was doing. Ringo had grossly miscalculated how heavy the TV was going to be; he was obviously struggling as he attempted to shuffle his way to the front doors. The two employees who had just witnessed this entire shit show exchanged an uncertain glance and shrugged their shoulders. They weren’t paid enough to deal with shit like that. Let the weirdo shove a TV down his pants if he wanted to.

Somehow, by some miracle, Ringo managed to make it to the front doors without being stopped (although he did attract a lot of strange looks). It was only when the metal detectors started to blare through the store that Ringo was surrounded by seven employees, two of which body slammed him to the ground. In a matter of seconds, the TV was removed from his pants and Ringo was sitting against the Starbucks counter by the front door with his arms shackled behind his back, moping not only because he had been eliminated from the competition and arrested, but also because he could no longer confidently say that he was the Master of Deception.

After Ringo powered into the store, Paul, George, and John synced their watches and agreed to meet back in the parking lot to determine the winner (they already knew that Ringo was going to be disqualified, it was only a matter of time before they found out exactly what he had done to eliminate himself).

George was the second to enter the store behind Ringo. As if he was going on any old Target run, George casually strolled through the front doors and made his way directly to the food section. The second John had initially mentioned theft, George’s stomach growled since it had officially been 20 minutes since his last meal. From that second onwards, George could only think about one thing and one thing only: filling the apparent goddamn void in his stomach.

So, in that food aisle, George went to town, carefully packing his shopping cart to the brim with crackers, cookies, sandwich-making materials, and lots and lots of candy. Satisfied with his load, he retreated to the back of the store where he very quickly found the employee break room and settled there, seated eagerly in front of his stuffed cart. A few employees filed in and out of the room as George worked away at his feast, but none of them bothered to stop him because they could care less. This was just an average day at Target: some guy had shoved a TV down his pants a few minutes ago, so George’s spectacle wasn’t even the worst thing they’d seen all day.

In ten minutes, George had consumed well over 50,000 calories and patted his extended stomach with content before letting out a belch that rattled the whole establishment for well-over 10 seconds.

Across the store in the women’s lingerie section, Paul snapped his head up from a rack of nice bras and scanned around in a panic. When he realized that the shaking wasn’t coming from an angry guard storming up to him, Paul’s shoulders relaxed and he returned back to sifting through the silk fabric, trying to find the flashiest bra available.

George collected all of his empty packages and started to shove them into a plastic Target bag that had been discarded in the breakroom so he had evidence of just how many things he had stolen that were now sitting in the bottom of his stomach. But, George wasn’t going to stop there; as impressive as his feat was, he knew that he was up against some tough competition (aka John, Paul didn’t count), so he really had to step up his game.

As he scanned around the store trying to find something good to snag, it occurred to George that he was wearing a red shirt and a pair of khakis (he was long overdue to do his laundry). He was basically an employee at Target, so George knew that he really could take things the extra mile. And oh boy, did he. He approached a cash register where there was an apron and an employee’s scanner sitting loosely around and tugged the apron over his head, adding the scanner to one of his front pockets. To be an incredibly huge nuisance, George went out of his way to unscrew the credit card reader (with his Target screwdriver, of course) and packed that into his apron as well. He checked his phone and, when he saw he had two minutes to spare, he decided that he had had his fun, and returned to the parking lot.

For Paul, when he first entered the store, he was a nervous wreck. Since the bean incident, he had vowed to never do a wrong thing ever again in his life. But, deep down, he knew that he would much rather become a criminal than let down his mates. He especially didn’t want to see the look of disappointment on John’s face if he came back empty-handed; that just wasn’t acceptable.

So, he decided to go the conservative route and start off small. After sneaking a pack of Trident Layers into his coat pocket without so much as a blink of an eye from those in the vicinity, Paul felt his heart rate slow. It was okay, this was fine, he totally had this. So, from there, Paul started to get more of a feel for the sticky fingers, sliding a pack of soap up his sleeve and a daily planner down his shirt. Now he was really feeling the groove of things, so he boldly made his way to the gift card section and grabbed a $20 Applebee's gift card. He was really going wild now. He was yet to face any consequences for his actions, so he booked it to the best part of Target: the electronic section, where Ringo had just been fucking shit up five minutes prior. Attempting to keep all of his stolen goods concealed, Paul strolled up and down the aisles, trying to decide which items on display were the best to grab (aka what would impress John the most). After checking to see if the coast was clear (which it was, since all the staff in the area were busy dealing with Ringo in the front of the store), Paul slid a Nintendo Switch inside his coat and hustled away from the crime scene, giggling to himself.

Now he was on a high. He was bound to win the competition with his impressive level of skill; the rest of the boys had probably already been caught because they were nowhere near as sneaky as him. As Paul hustled past the home goods aisle, he caught a glimpse of a Rolling Stones poster and turned back around with a smug look. The poster immediately went down his pants, where it belonged, so Mick’s face was pressed up against some stuff I’m not going to list out here. To top off the successful day, Paul made his way to the lingerie section to pick out an especially nice bra to give to John as a joke, to really rub in his victory. With the exception of the quick period of shaking that nearly made Paul crap himself, he was poised with a confidence he had never felt before, like he was immortal. Paul crept his way out a side door and returned to George’s car with his head held high and his pockets completely lined with goods, making it to George and John with three seconds to spare.

John knew exactly what he was doing from the get-go. He knew that his mates would all fall for a friendly competition and get so consumed by it that John could do his dirty work undetected. He knew that Ringo was bound to create a distraction big enough for him to do what he set out to do. He wasn’t sure if Paul and George would get caught too but, if they did, that would just be an additional bonus. After watching George and Paul hurry through the front doors, John stomped out his used cigarette on the pavement and ambled in behind them.

“Hey, Ringo,” he calmly greeted his mate as he made it through the front doors, where Ringo was still handcuffed and swarmed by employees and police officers.

“Hi John,” Ringo attempted to wave back, failing miserably. With a satisfied smirk, John moved to the front registers and, one by one, popped them open with a screwdriver that he himself had stolen from Target just the previous week. You’d think that alarms would have gone off, or someone would have noticed, but no, John was the true Master of Deception. He opened his coat to reveal a large, holographic fanny pack (also stolen) and started to fill it with the 1s, 5s, 10s, 20s, and 100s in each cash register. In under a minute, he had emptied out every register in the store, right under the cops’ noses. It was practically a miracle.

While George and Paul were still trying to make their way around the perimeter of the store, finding the best things to take, John was out the front doors in under three minutes, his fanny pack stuffed to the brim with cash just like George’s stomach was about to be with food.

“Fools,” John couldn’t help but laugh to himself as he lit a new cigarette and took out a long, satisfied drag. And, with that, he let himself back into George’s car and reclined backwards in the front seat, his feet kicked up on the dashboard. He kept an eye out for any commotion if someone caught on to his crime, but the store was incredibly peaceful and still, like a lake on a cool summer’s morning. John found that to be oddly beautiful, so much so that he knew he could write a decent song about it, called “Hey Target I Just Robbed You Blind, Suck It”.

After what felt like ages of waiting, George finally emerged from the store and, not too shortly afterwards, Paul trailed out after him.

“Did you see they arrested Ringo?” Paul asked as he plopped in the back seat, his pockets swishing this way and that and a loud, papery crunching noise coming from his pants.

“I was able to get in a quick word with him,” George told Paul. “Turns out he tried to steal the biggest TV in the store by hiding it in his pants.”

“Classic Ringo,” Paul rolled his eyes. “You’re awfully quiet,” he turned to John. “Nervous to lose?”

“You wish,” John snapped back to life, reclaiming his role as the leader of the competition. “Well, let’s go then, boys, shall we? Show off what you were able to grab.”

George was the first to go, and Paul and John’s eyes widened as he emptied out the opened food packages from his stolen bag. He had enough in there to fill half a trash dump.

“I ate all of that in under 10 minutes,” George proudly shared, before letting out another loud burp. “And, I took this.” George untied his apron and threw it in the pile, adding along the scanner and the credit card reader. “They thought I was an employee,” George couldn’t help but laugh as he looked down at his red shirt and khakis.

“What are you gonna do with a credit card reader?” Paul couldn’t help but ask. It seemed like the stupidest thing George could have taken. Well, actually a toilet plunger from the bathroom would have been stupider, but Paul had come to that conclusion earlier after taking the toilet plunger from the men’s room and talking himself into putting it back.

“Dunno,” George shrugged. “It seemed like it would be hard to take, so I took it.”

“That’s admirable,” John admitted, impressed with his younger mate. “Alright Paul, show us your booty.”

Paul couldn’t help but grin in anticipated excitement at his seemingly inevitable victory as he first retrieved the pack of gum and soap, followed by the daily planner and $20 Applebee’s gift card.

“Hold up,” John stopped him. “You’re disqualified.”

“Disqualified?” Paul nearly shouted in shock. “Why?”

John pointed at the Applebee’s gift card.

“That’s a foul right there. No one in their right mind would steal an Applebee’s gift card and consider themselves a winner. That just spoiled whatever else you took, I don’t even want to see it.”

“But I took a Nintendo Switch!” Paul tried to protest, reaching into his coat to grab it.

“I don’t care,” John held his ground, “you’re disqualified.” George watched onwards in excitement; he loved it when he did better than Paul.

“Now how’s that fair?” Paul protested. “We’re all judges here, your word isn’t above ours!”

“It is when I already know I’ve won,” John retorted. Before Paul could fight against this, John unzipped his jacket, displaying his fanny pack. Both Paul and George broke into fits of laughter.

“You can’t be serious, John,” George howled, “You think you won with that?”

“That’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Paul added in, relief washing over him that John might have just been giving him a hard time. That theory was quickly abandoned, however, when John, sporting the strongest poker face ever seen in the history of mankind, unzipped the fanny pack, revealing the stacks upon stacks of cash inside.

“I counted it all while you were in there wasting your time,” he explained to George and Paul’s gaping faces. “It’s near $20,000.” George recoiled in shock.

“John,” Paul’s voice was shaking now, “I don’t think that was such a great idea…”

“They haven’t caught me though, have they?” John tested Paul with a raised eyebrow, nodding towards the store.

“But I don’t think you should be sitting in their parking lot with the $20,000 you just stole, John,” George told him, trying to keep his cool.

“I’m not worried about it,” John waved George off. “Ringo’s got them all busy. Meanwhile I’m gonna buy me a new car to celebrate.”

“John,” Paul deadpanned, “you already own three cars. And you don’t have a driver’s license.”

“You really do need to consider other ways to live lavishly,” George agreed.

“What matters is that I’m $20,000 richer and you’re not,” John snapped back at them, growing frustrated that they weren’t as in awe of his achievement as he had hoped.

Right as Paul was about to suggest that John go back inside and return the money before they got into any serious trouble, Ringo knocked on George’s window, accompanied by two cops, making them all jump. After glancing back at John to make sure his money was hidden, George rolled down the window.

“They’re taking me to the sin bin,” Ringo explained, nodding at the two cops who were holding him in a deathlock. “Apparently putting a TV down your pants is considered a crime.”

“No kidding,” Paul told him.

“My bail is supposed to be posted at about $20,000,” Ringo continued, ignoring Paul. “Can you help set old Ringo free?”

Paul and George slowly turned to face John, who was scowling downwards.

“Yes,” George answered for him, “in fact, I think we’ve got $20,000 we can spare.”

Ringo smiled.

#I wrote a novel with this one #sorry #beatles ask #beatles fanfic #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #target #ringo really tried his best

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Text

Chapter 36: Choice

“Times up.” Sam said one afternoon after Grace had ducked out of the Cullen house early for a pack meeting.

“What do you mean ‘times up’? You’re just going to go in there and kill her?” Grace said skeptical, almost laughing at him as she grabbed some food from the kitchen table.

“We have no new information and we need a plan of action for when this thing comes out.”

“What do you want me to do?” Grace said annoyed. Jacob was standing behind her with his arms crossed looking at Sam with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t want you to do anything. You’re our line in. They trust you and I think the only other person that they would trust is Jacob.”

“Okay,” Jake said also skeptical and reaching around Grace to grab a muffin from the table. “Then what do you want me to do?”

“Same thing as Grace. I want you to get a line in, start spending time with Bella, keep an eye on the situation. And then as the time gets closer if she progresses we’ll have two of ours on the inside, which will definitely buy us more time if we need it in the end.”

“I think you’re jumping the gun on this one Sam.”

“Well, I don’t. And I’m alpha so you’ll do as I say,” he said confidently before leaving the room. Jake and Grace were left alone in the kitchen and she dropped into a kitchen chair laying her head on her arms.

“We’re not fucking secret agents. Bella knows that the pack is not thrilled about the pregnancy. They’ll be prepared for an attack.” Grace said into her arms. Jacob dropped in the chair across from her and put his hands behind his head.

“Edward already texted me like a month ago.” Jake said casually. Grace shot up in her seat.

“What?! He texted you? About what?!” Grace said surprised.

“To have me come and talk to Bella and try to convince her she should terminate.” He said looking toward the door.

“Did you...did you text him back?” Grace said. She couldn’t believe Edward had never mentioned it to her.

“I went and saw him. We met in the woods. I mostly wanted to rub it in his face that I was right. That I knew he was going to kill her one way or another. But…” Jacob looked at his hands and Grace rested her chin on her crossed arms. “It didn’t feel like I thought it would. He was...different. Broken.”

Grace listened quietly and when Jacob looked into her eyes she concentrated. She could see the image in his head now, fuzzy and flickering but there. They had been practicing this every once in a while when they were near each other when Jake wasn’t phased. She only ever caught glimmers and echos, never anything as concrete when he was in his wolf form but it was something. She squinted her eyes trying to see it more clearly in her mind’s eye but it wasn’t working.

“You get the idea,” he said, cutting off his gaze and moving it back down to his hands.

“What are we going to do? Sam is definitely going to kill this thing but what if...what if it turns out to just be a baby? What do we do?”

“There’s no way it’s just a baby, but I get your meaning….” he was at a loss and couldn’t offer her a way forward anymore than she could other than to say, “We buy as much time as we can so we can be sure.”

“Right,” Grace breathed.

January

Grace walked into the study where Bella was getting another ultrasound, coming to the middle of her second trimester. Carlisle was diligently moving the wand across her belly trying to see if he could ascertain anything new.

Grace put her hands in the backpocket of her jeans and smiled.

“How are we doin’?” She asked nonchalantly.

“Good, just seeing if I can hear anything new…” Carlisle said his eyes trained on the monitor. Bella smiled but her face was starting to look sallow, Grace noticed. Her color was off too. In her first two months, she was pink and flush with a pregnancy glow, but now she was turning a tinge of yellowish green.

“I brought a present. Hope that’s okay. It was kind of big so I left it downstairs,” Grace said nodding over her shoulder. Bella smiled and Carlisle clicked off his machine saying “Nothing new,” with a tight smile to Bella.

“Come on preggo,” Grace said, helping her up. She was definitely starting to show much more than a woman who was normally 4-5 months pregnant would show. She helped Bella slowly descend the stairs, noticing how thin her arms were becoming.

“You feeling okay?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah of course, just had a headache this morning I can’t shake. Where’s this monster present?” Bella asked jokingly as they rounded the corner to the living room.

“It’s a good monster, I promise,” Grace said.

Jake stood in the center of the living room wearing his black leather jacket, tan shirt and jeans.

Bella broke into a wide smile and shuffled quickly toward Jake to wrap him in a hug. He obliged and carefully closed his arms around with a smile Grace hadn't seen in a while as he said, “Hey Bells.”

“It’s so good to see you,” Bella said as tears sprang to her eyes. Grace patted Bella’s back and looked up at Jacob’s face before saying,

“I’m going to run some errands while you’re here with her. You good?” Jacob nodded without opening his eyes and Grace headed toward the front door. As she left she heard Bella say,

“Your hair’s long again.” To which Jake laughed softly. Grace cherished that sound for a second before she moved to the treeline, focused herself carefully and recast the 56 miles to Port Angeles. When she reappeared, she leaned up against a nearby building and tried to catch her breath.

After a couple of minutes, she relaxed and pulled her hood up against the January sleet and headed down the busy street. Edward and Carlisle had been hard at work trying to find information from anyone who could tell them more about what was happening to Bella. Alice and Jasper had disappeared for a full month before coming back empty handed. They left in shifts, not wanting to leave Bella unguarded for too long, but this time, their trips had overlapped with when they usually went to feed, so Grace had offered to meet up with a lead Carlisle had found who seemed promising.

Grace had conveniently left this information out of the collective pack mind however, knowing that Sam would be furious if she was meeting up with a rogue vampire informant. So what Sam doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Not to mention that the alpha fatigue was starting to wear on her.

Now that Jacob was back, the old tension between Sam and Grace resumed. He understood that the connection between Jacob and Grace might be more akin to the true alpha-Spirit Bird link but since Jake wasn’t interested in becoming alpha, he was trying to dictate the parameters of their connection as the true alpha.

It was exhausting. Grace was usually given so much whiplash by Sam’s commands that she opted to just tune out as much as possible which caused clear divides amongst pack members. In their histories, the alpha and Spirit Bird were meant to work in perfect harmony, a balance, give and take. But with Sam and Grace it had been anything but. She found herself wanting to resist his alpha commands more and more, make decisions without consulting him, keeping him out of the loop when it came to what was happening in the Cullen house, anything to get some peace. She knew Sam was just trying to keep the pack in order, do his job, and keep everyone safe, but Grace felt like it was more of a father-child relationship between them than a mutual agreement to manage the pack.

She and Jacob had mulled it over a couple of times in their collective mind, but stopped when Jacob was getting hounded by Sam for sowing discord. Grace was able to shield her own mind from the collective packs if she wanted because it was a choice to dip into their shared consciousness, but Jacob could not.

Grace pulled herself out of her reverie as she turned down another alleyway, her footfalls splashing in the gathering puddles. She paused a door to her left, rechecking her phone for the address before she heard a light hiss above her. Grace tentatively looked up and saw the crouched figure of a man in a long coat on a fire escape. He quickly jumped from the immense height and landed across from Grace. She kept her face cool, hands in her pockets and spoke with purpose.

“Alastor? I’m here on behalf of Carlisle,” the sleet slowed offering them a brief reprieve that neither of them really noticed. The vampire looked at her curiously, his eyes darting across Grace’s body, taking her in and relishing in the scent. Grace made a mental note, Black eyes, this might be a problem.

Another low hiss came from the back of the vampires throat without him meaning it, like a reflex. “And you're the little mortal he sent to do his bidding?” he let out a soft, pleasing laugh. Grace didn’t respond right away, just shifted her weight a little and kept her eyes trained on the creature.

“You have information Carlisle asked for?” Grace leveled him with a solid stare. Surprisingly she wasn’t afraid, but as the time ticked on she felt like she was on a fool’s errand. Alastor looked like he hadn’t had a shower in decades. His blonde hair hung in oily strands around his round face. Patches of dirt adorned his perfectly marble like skin. He was dressed in a dingy, worn overcoat and gloves that left his thin fingers exposed. Grace grimaced a little. He gave her an unsettling smile and pulled his lips back a little too far over his teeth.

“Right. This way,” he said as he walked off down the alleyway. Grace rolled her eyes and followed him internally thinking Shields up. He took her through dark street after dark street until the sun started to get low and he veered off to his left, pulling open two cellar doors that were sunken into the alleyway. He descended down the stone steps into the darkness and Grace groaned. She was walking into a vampire den, clear as day, and if Sam or Paul or any of the pack members found out, she’d be crucified. She followed after Alastor into the dark, damp cellar until she found herself in a worn and disheveled den. Literally. She had to almost stop herself from laughing at the irony.

It was scattered with remnants of paper, old CDs, actual trash, and tattered linens with questionable stains. Alastor was rummaging through some dresser drawers on the far wall.

“When Carlisle had told me of his little predicament, it had reminded me of this book I had come across centuries ago in a deserted library. It detailed the legends of bloodsuckers, the immortal way, and the children born from them.” Grace raised an eyebrow still taking in the dank surroundings as the bare bulb in the center of the room cast eerie shadows. “He was very interested in such a book, and lucky for him I nicked it some 300 years ago. Ah!” he cried pulling a slender, small book out from his drawer. He looked upon it lovingly, “It’s given me solace, to understand the monster that I am, how I’m perceived, and how legends tell us more truth about ourselves than anything else.”

Grace didn’t respond. His eyes, black as ink, drew her in momentarily. She felt an odd tickling at the back of her neck. A warning?

“But for all his goodness, Carlisle is nothing if not gullible to the real fault of humans,” he was on her now, terribly close and she careened back, her back slamming into the wall behind her. Her head hit the stone with a thud and she felt warmth trickle there. When she felt the back of her head, she pulled back a small amount of blood, but it was enough. Alastor’s hand was suddenly outstretched, closed around her throat and slowly crushing her windpipe. Grace, taken off guard, gasped for breath, gripping Alastor’s wrist with one hand as her other fought for purchase on the wall behind her to give her leverage. She was turning blue.

Alastor’s eyes were gleaming, his mouth wide open in hunger and just as quickly, “Just a taste,” he teased cruelly.

Grace squeaked out a suffocated, “I wouldn’t,” before bringing her free hand up, pulling her energy hard and fast, slicing down like a knife in front of her and severing Alastor’s outstretched arm at the elbow. She frantically pulled at the hand that still loosely gripped her neck and cast it aside with a clatter. Alastor let out a howl of pain and was momentarily thrown off balance. Grace leaned down to scoop up the small book and sprinted for the staircase. Once out in the cool, dark air, she wasted no time recasting back to Forks.

Falling forward on her knees in the forest, Grace coughed and tried to regain her breath. She drew in ragged breaths, but the pain was excruciatingly sharp. It felt like someone had dragged glass shards down her throat. Grace checked to make sure she had the book pocketed in her jacket before pulling herself up with a groan and stumbling toward the Cullen’s. That was the last time she volunteered to meet up with one of Carlisle’s sketchy ass friends.

As she broke out of the treeline and onto the Cullen’s driveway, she was starting to wheeze. Coming down from the front steps was Jacob. Panicked, Grace tried to gain her composure. His face looked furious, dark, and he was lost in thought until he looked up and saw Grace coming toward him.

“Hey,” he said quietly. Grace nodded thinking she was in the clear but as she got closer to brush past him his eyes went wide:

“Grace what the HELL!” He stepped in front of her and his hands went to roughly touch her neck. Grace flinched painfully and wheezed out: “Jake, take it easy.” Her voice was raspy and cut in and out like changing channels on a tv.

“Sorry,” he breathed, his hands soft on her neck now inspecting the clear red welts of hand print there. “What the fuck happened?!” Suddenly he was taking a deep breath, the coppery scent clear now, and his eyes shot up to her head, “Are you bleeding?!” his eyes were roving up and down her body, desperately searching for where the smell of blood was coming from.

“Jacob,” she whispered, trying to even her wheezing. “I’m fine, let me just—” she tried to move past him, but his hand was firm on her upper arm holding her in place. His other hand reached and softly touched the back of her head, pulling back wet blood. His eyes were wide with anger now, furious, and filled with absolute disgust.

“Who did this?” he growled. His whole body was shaking and his eyes were alight with something she hadn’t seen in months.

“Can I go inside please?” she asked, tired. She wasn’t losing a lot of blood, but the smell was starting to make her just a little bit dizzy. He nodded snapping out of it and wrapping his arm around her shoulders as he led her up the steps and into the Cullen house.

Carlisle was there instantly trying to assess her, but Jacov’s reflexive growl told him to keep his distance.

“Jacob may I?” he asked politely. Jake wasn’t letting go and Grace had to gently peel his fingers off her shoulder to be released. His anger only ticked up as Grace sat down wincing as Carlisle gently parted her hair where the wound was. “Esme, please get my kit,” he said, lifting Grace’s chin up and looking closely at her throat. She was gone and back in an instant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think Alastor would be in bad shape.”

“This was for you?!” Jacob said, rage racketing up in him now. Grace gave Carlisle a warning look, upset that he had said anything.

“Jake, I’m fine, really. Look,” she whispered, her voice raspy and weak. She held up her finger and followed her eyes as she moved her finger back and forth across her face. Jacob was not placated. He seethed, watching her with clenched fists as his chest rose and fell quickly with every passing breath.

She reached in her pocket to hand Carlisle the book. “Thank you,” he said quietly as he took it from her and then deftly grabbed some tools to start working on cleaning, disinfecting, and stitching up Grace’s head. “Should just need a couple of stitches. Can you breathe alright?” he asked as he listened to her wheezing. She nodded even though it caused severe discomfort. As he finished the stitches and moved to look at her neck again, he gently pressed on the sides of her throat. Grace let out a soft, involuntary, whimper. Her eyes shot up to meet with Jacob’s and his face had changed. It was desperate, intermixed with anger—he couldn’t handle it, seeing her like that. Carlisle met her eyes and said “You’ve definitely got some swelling and bruising around the windpipe, but the muscle feels intact.”

At this, there was a huge crash that caused Grace to jump. Rosalie was in the room now, having heard the noise, looking around quickly for the threat. One of the floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the forest in the living room was completely shattered. Jacob had thrown his wolf body through it and darted off into the forest. Grace braced against the chill that crept in.

“Sorry about that,” Grace wheezed. Carlisle gave her a reassuring smile.

“I’m sorry about this. I shouldn’t have asked you to go. I thought...It doesn’t matter,” he said. He dashed and was back with a warm compress from his study that he gingerly fixed around Grace’s neck. “This should help with the swelling at least until your healing kicks in. Let’s get you up to the guest room,” he said softly.

“Can someone actually give me a ride home?” her mouth was dry and the pain in her head was slowly subsiding but she was worried about the pack, about Jake.

“Of course, we’ll take you home right away.”

Grace carefully climbed the steps to her front door and gave Carlisle a wave as she went inside, shutting the door behind her. She let out a sigh of relief and pulled the compress off her neck as she climbed the stairs to her room. She clumsily pulled off her jeans and grabbed at a loose shirt that was hanging from her closet door. After pulling off her sweatshirt, t-shirt, and bra, she pulled on the oversized t-shirt and revelled in it’s warm cedar-like smell before collapsing on her bed and passing out, her phone buzzing wildly in the back pocket of her discarded jeans.

Early muted sun came in through her porthole window above the bed. Distant thunder roiled somewhere outside. Grace groaned and rolled onto her side, slowly opening her eyes. She let out a quick gasp as her eyes put together the figure of Jacob, sitting low in the chair next to the bed that was usually piled with laundry.

“Fuck, Jacob,” she said softly. Her voice was rough, but the rasp was gone and she pulled in cool, clean breaths with ease. She tentatively brought a hand up to her neck and gingerly pressed it. The pain was gone and only a dull ache like a bruise remained. She felt better, but didn’t try to get up, resettling her head on the pillow to get a better look at Jake. His face was dark, brooding. His eyes were alight with fresh upset but it didn’t feel solely directed at her.

“What were you thinking?” he said, his voice filled with disdain. Grace let her eyes rove over him carefully taking in his shape. She hadn’t been alone with him in her room since before she broke them. The feeling was strangely intimate and Grace didn’t let herself settle in it too long.

“We’re trying to figure this thing out and I want some answers. For Bella,” she said simply her eyes glued to his face now. He had a hand resting lightly over his mouth and Grace silently wished that he would drop it so she could stare at his lips and remember every shape they took.

“Do you have a death wish? Sam is…” Jacob stalled, his eyes locking more concretely with Grace’s now as he silently tried to communicate with her. She got simple flashes, Sam on his hind legs, rocketing back, snarling and snapping, the rising of howls moving around the forest, a volley of commands that she couldn’t quite make out.

“Yeah well..” Grace sighed sitting up now. Jacob’s eyes moved down the length of her body not covered by the sheet. “What?” she said quietly.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he said with relief. As if the realization gave him something special, clarity that he wasn’t expecting. She was confused by his tone and looked down to pluck at the shirt with her fingertips.

“Oh. I was out of it when I got back.” She rubbed her hands over her eyes and gave a low yawn.

“Grace you don’t get it, he—” Jacob was cut off by a crescendo of howls coming through the forest, his eyes snapped up and Grace looked out her window alarmed.

Get down here. NOW.

Grace heard the clear command in Sam’s voice and quickly jumped out of bed, alarm bells ringing her head. Something was wrong. The howls were clearly pained, as if they pulled against the voice that dragged them forward.

Jake had already phased and had dashed into the forest. Grace quickly dressed and recast to his location, realizing too late that she was barefoot. The cool earth pricked at the warm soles of her feet as she stood in front of the towering black wolf.

Jake was mingled in with the pack, nipping at Seth and Quil to stay back. Grace steadied herself as she looked up at Sam and felt the heat of his anger rolling off his body.

Time and time again, you put this pack on the brink. You put each of us in danger with your recklessness. Going out there alone and putting your life at risk on an errand for a bloodsucker?! The disregard for your own life means I can’t trust you to help protect this pack.

Grace’s heart rate ticked up. Thunder crashed just offshore and the hair on the back of her neck rose. Whimpering sounds from the pack echoed behind Sam.

“I’m trying to keep Bella alive and keep a war from starting.” Grace said simply. Her hands felt that familiar pain and she clenched and unclenched them into fists.

You can no longer be trusted to have good judgement when it comes to the Cullens or Bella. And the Cullen’s clearly have you compromised if you’re out there doing their bidding. I won’t let it continue and have one of ours end up dead because of your clouded judgement.

Grace’s eyes darted around to the pack now, unsure of what to do. But Sam wasn’t backing down. He padded toward her, his muzzle open in a clear snarl, all teeth.

You will either come under heel and submit to Alpha orders like everyone else here. Or you will be cast out and we will come after you if you interfere with us taking care of the threat.

Grace swallowed hard. “So you’re going to kill Bella then, that’s your plan?”

I tell you that you have two choices to maintain your connection to this pack—YOUR DESTINY—and instead you ask about if we’re going to kill Bella. It makes me sick!

At this, Sam lunged at her, his mouth open in a clear attack. Grace pushed her body back as she pulled energy up in front her, eyes wide. She went crashing back into the woods and came to halt once she slammed against a tree.

“ARE YOU CRAZY?!” Grace shouted as she scrambled to her feet and rushed back into the clearing. There was a squabble of fighting amongst the wolves behind Sam. Their dissent was quickly quieted with a swift command from him.

Choose. I won’t ask again. Sam was livid. This was beyond insane. The weight of this alpha command was stronger than any she had felt before and her body begged her to obey, desperate for relief. She felt the strain of it in the back of her head, the muscles surrounding her skull tightening dangerously, willing her to submit. But she pulled against it. There was no way she was going to let her pack murder her sister and her unborn baby. They meant too much and the pack meant too much. She’d never let them become those kinds of monsters. She gritted her teeth and leveled Sam’s gaze.

“No.” she said between clenched teeth. There was another round of howls, whimpers, snaps, and snarls at her defiance. Sam recoiled, his ears back in clear anger.

Enough. Fan out toward the Cullen’s. Don’t stop. Sam said.

We’re going to kill her?!

Sam, wait please.

Grace don’t do this.

There’s no other way, we have to kill this thing. Bella’s made her choice.

Jacob do something! Seth’s voice was loud and clear as Sam charged toward Grace. The pack was held back by their alpha orders. Grace pulled up her energy as a shield again, teeth still gritted, digging her feet in and taking Sam’s blows as he battered against her again and again, pushing her back shouting:

YOU. WILL. LISTEN. TO. ME.

Jacob felt a sharp ripple move through him as he watched Sam advance on Grace again and again. She wouldn’t push Sam back, she wouldn’t hurt him—Jacob didn’t know if she was capable of hurting them in their wolf form or if something in her held her back. Still, she wouldn’t return the attack. Jake could see that she would lose. There was no way she could keep this up for long. Not after multiple alpha commands dragging her down while trying to keep herself standing against his barrage of attacks.

A ripping growl grew in the back of his throat as he watched, the chaos around him was shredding his sanity into pieces. Sam wouldn’t stop, Jacob knew that.

Sam thought that Grace was putting them in danger and that he needed to protect them. But Jacob knew killing Bella wasn’t the answer either, and bringing Grace under Sam’s heel would backfire, it’s not how Grace felt the bond worked.

Every time he hit her shield of energy, the sound crunched louder and louder, intermixed with his snarls and snaps. The crescendo of wolf thoughts wouldn’t cease either as they all escalated into panic. Jake was boiling over and he just wanted it to stop.

Sam crashed into Grace in one final blow and her shield fell. She was pushed back up against a tree and slowly slipped down the trunk. Sam raised himself up on his hind legs to bring himself down upon her again, a paw raised with claws extended. An echo screamed through Jacob’s head, long forgotten and buried deep in his psyche. He felt pushed forward by unseen hands as his body sprinted toward Grace.

Once he had rocketed toward her, the cries and shouts of his brothers went quiet as he launched himself at Sam’s broad back.

His jaws grabbed around Sam’s shoulder. H was caught unaware and in his panic, Sam threw his head back snapping wildly to try and toss him off. But Jacob was strong, stronger than he thought, and he pulled him backwards onto the ground. Sam twisted out his grip and Jake moved his body in front of Grace as she pulled herself up, her breath quick and sharp.

“Jake, don’t.” Grace said softly. He growled and widened his stance, blocking Grace from Sam’s view.

Get out of the way. Sam growled.

No. Jake shouted back. Sam’s ears went back and suddenly at his tone. Startled, Jacob realized he couldn’t hear anything, just his own quick breath as Sam narrowed his eyes on him again.

What did you do?! Sam screamed.

You gave me no choice. This is not who we are, Sam. This is not who you are.

What did you DO?! He lunged for Jacob and as Grace cried out. Jacob shook Sam’s muzzle off of his neck and beared down on him, crushing his ribs under his paws. Sam yelped as Jacob dug in and chomped harder, the other wolves pacing frantically behind him.

I won’t let you hurt her. She’s under my protection now. SAY YOU UNDERSTAND! The command was clear and Sam yelped again, struggling harder against his tightening grip.

I understand! Sam finally yelled out. Jacob released him immediately and Sam retreated to his pack.

You’ve made a mistake, Jacob. You’ve destroyed this pack. We can’t come back from this.

Jacob had had enough. He turned to give Grace a look that she acknowledged and she recast away deeper into the forest. Jacob would find her soon enough.

The other pack members whined, confusion clear in their eyes. Jacob took one last look at them and took off as desperate howls rang out.

He ran in the direction that Grace went, knowing she’d be waiting for him. He saw her ahead in the clearing and quickly phased, pulling on his jean shorts before walking into the clearing. He let his eyes fall to the ground, realization sinking into him. His pack, his brothers, Leah, they were lost to him. Grace spun around, her eyes wild in shock:

“Did you just become alpha?!” Her voice was strained, shattered. He raised his eyes to her and in that moment everything stopped. A hush fell over the forest, unnaturally void of the chirps and rustling of the in its floor. The light seemed to glitter around them and the air grew thick and heavy despite the January cold. The thunder that had sounded off shore, clattered around them, lacing the air with electricity that splintered out and set their nerves on fire.

Grace pulled in a sharp breath. The dangling thread that had snapped in her when Jake had left suddenly reacted, shooting down through her body like a steel cable and snapping to the forest floor. She felt grounded, tethered to the earth, but more than that, she felt tethered to him. The rushing noise was already washing through her, the immense pressure building and finally exhaling around her. The pull in her stomach rejoiced in an exalted sigh of pleasure as it said, Yes, it’s you. Finally.

Jacob was stone in front of her, his eyes wide with understanding. It was her. The soul that had been calling out to him all this time had been hers and deep down he thought he always knew. It was like finally turning over a stone and revealing the glittering life beneath. Like pulling a relief of air into a stifling room, the cool rush of understanding washing over his too hot body. His mind buzzed with recognition: Grace, his imprint.

Like a magnet, her pull begged her to move closer, but all Grace could get out was a soft, “Oh.” as they stared at each other. The sound suddenly returned to the forest, teeming with life and becoming all too loud. Tears welled around the bottom of her eyes as she became overcome with joy. The ancestor’s hadn’t forgotten about her.

She held herself in place, waiting for his cue. His mouth opened and closed before he finally said, “Grace.” Calling her to him.

Grace sprinted forward.

#twilight fanfiction #Twilight FanFic #twilightfanfic #twilight #new moon #eclipse #breaking dawn #smeyer #bella swan #jacob black #jacobblackxoc #jacobblack #jacobxoc #paul lahote #edward cullen #the cullens #the pack #chapter 36 #a monster lives here

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sheerbeautyreigns · 3 years

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DESIRE

Part 69

"You've got no fucking self respect if you go back to him."

The rest of the week was pretty uneventful for Joe. He did a couple of interviews and caught up with a couple for friends. Drew hadn’t attempted to get in touch which Joe thought was a bit uncharacteristic of him. He needed to get over it. He was working things out with Paul now and had been thinking about him a lot since Tuesday.

It was Friday night and he’d just finished cutting a promo about his Survivor Series win. Vince and Paul were in deep conversation when Joe arrived back in Gorilla. Paul gave him a knowing look and a small smile before he went back to his locker room. There was a message from him when he opened his bag.

“I’ll have a car waiting for you at 9pm to take you to the Ritz Carlton. There’s a key for you in my name at the front desk. Make yourself at home.”

He had to sort himself quickly. As he was getting changed, Drew walked in. Joe slowed down momentarily, passing him a glance. Even though he was looking forward to seeing Paul, he was still annoyed about what happened in the hotel last week. He stayed silent, lacing his Jordans and slipping into a hoodie. “So, is this it? We’re not talking?” Drew finally said. “There’s nothing to say. You wanted to end things-"

“Joe don’t be like that.” Drew cut in, moving towards him. “You have to see where I’m coming from. I can’t risk losing my job.” At that moment, Joe’s phone rang. Drew saw Paul’s face flash up on the screen. Joe scowled at him and answered the phone. “Hey…yeah fine. OK, I won’t be long. OK, see you soon.”

“You’re kidding me right? You’re back with him!?” Joe shoved his phone into his pocket and hastily threw the rest of his belongings into his bag. “You’ve got no fucking self respect if you go back to him-"

“Shut up Drew. I’m warning you.” Joe got in his face. “This is bloody pathetic. I’m glad I ended things with you. Go back to Pau-" Joe grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the wall “I swear to God, one more word-" At that very moment, Kevin walked in. “Guys! Joe, stop! What the hell are you doing!?” He panicked, pacing towards them as quick as possible. Joe let go of Drew and grabbed his nearby bags. “I was just leaving.” Joe scowled at both men before leaving. “What the hell was that all about?” Kevin asked Drew. “Don’t ask.”

Joe could still feel his heart racing while he was being driven to the hotel. He was officially done with Drew. He couldn’t stand to have him talk to him like that. He hated that Kevin had seen him in that fit of rage and hoped that he wouldn’t say anything. Impulsively, he called him. “Hey man,”

“Hey you OK? You looked pretty pissed…” Kevin pointed out. “I know, I know. It was just a disagreement. It’ll be fine. You won’t say anything to anyone?” Joe checked. “Of course not. It’s between you and Drew.”

“How was he?” Joe asked “Man, I’ve never seen him so pissed. He said something about Paul-" Joe sat forward, paying attention. “What'd he say?”

“I couldn’t make it out but he seemed pretty pissed.” Poor Kevin didn’t have a clue which made Joe glad. He hoped Drew wouldn’t do anything stupid. He ended the call as he pulled up at the hotel.

Paul had told him on the phone that he made it to the hotel a bit earlier and to come straight up to his room. He tried to compose himself before he knocked on the door of Paul’s suite. This whole situation with Drew had clearly ruined any good thoughts he had about seeing Paul tonight, especially Drew’s comments about not having any self respect if he goes back to Paul.

The warm smile on Paul’s face erased those thoughts. He was still wearing his grey suit and black shirt. When the door was closed, Paul took his bags and set them aside. “I’ve been waiting for this all day.”

“Me too.” Joe responded as Paul pulled him against his body and kissed him softly. The young man smiled as he pulled away. “Why don’t you get out of those clothes. I took the liberty in running you a nice lavender bath, just the way you like it.”

“Why are you so good to me?” Joe asked with a small smile as Paul led him across the room. He discarded his clothes just outside the bathroom and set them on a nearby chair neatly. Paul trailed his hand along Joe’s shoulder and down his back, guiding him towards the bath tub. “Take as long as you want. Relax.” Joe lowered into the warm water, resting his head back against the rim. “How’s that?” Paul checked. “Perfect.” Joe smiled lazily up at him. He was left alone to soak in the tub while Paul caught up on some admin. Granted, it wasn’t the Friday night he’d anticipated but a welcome one all the same.

Almost thirty minutes later, Joe emerged from the bathroom wearing a fluffy white robe. “That was so relaxing, I had to get out before I fell asleep.” Joe wrapped his arms around Paul, who was sat at the computer desk in the corner of the living area. “That’s OK. I wanted you to just take it easy tonight.” Paul rose up to meet him, slipping his hand under the robe, caressing Joe’s left butt cheek, forcing his body against his. “…unless you’re ready for some fun now?”

Joe nodded slightly and kissed Paul, quickly becoming heated. The older man removed his robe, dropping it to the floor and ushering him into the bedroom. Joe lay on his back while Paul stood at the edge of the bed and squeezed some lube onto his hand. He slid his fingers between Joe’s ass cheeks, preparing his entrance.

Paul took hold of his right leg and rested it against the left side of his abdomen, forcing his body a little closer to the edge of the bed. He positioned his cock and entered him. Joe groaned loudly, looking up at him with those big brown eyes. He quickly closed them, his head falling back as Paul got into the rhythm of fucking him. He loved to see the expressions on his face change, the more intense it got. “You like that?” Paul asked gruffly, continuing to hold him steady. “Yes, fuck…” Joe’s eyes rolled back in this head before he climaxed. This caused Paul to smile darkly as he slammed into him a couple more times before cumming himself.

He let go of Joe’s leg and hovered over him, caressing his cheek. “I love you.” This led Joe to nod his head and return the sentiment to him. “I love you too.” His words were shaky and Paul noticed this. He furrowed his brows in concern, watching as Joe attempted to sit up against the pillows behind him, all while rubbing his eyes. “Baby you OK?” Paul sat near him, legs crossed over in front of him.

“Yeah I’m fine, sorry.” He tried to brush it off. “No you’re not. Did I do something wrong?” Paul was concerned. “I just…I’m just glad things are better between us.”

“Me too.” Paul was relieved it wasn’t anything bad. “I knew it wouldn’t be easy for you to trust that things would be better but things are different now. I only wanna make you happy. Wait here.” Joe watched as Paul got off the bed and opened his bag. He came back with a small dark red box.

“You left your other ring at my place after we broke up so I wanted to get you something new for this new chapter. We’re moving on.” He opened the box to reveal a simple white gold band, a little thicker than the first one. “Give me your hand.” Paul took Joe’s hand in his and slid the ring on “This is my commitment to you that I will be a better man and will do right by you this time. I promise.” Joe nodded his head, tears coming to his eyes again.

#roman reigns #wwe #tribal chief #roman reigns fic #fanfiction #smut #paul levesque #drew mcintyre

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howtosingit · 3 years

Text

Fic: my love, he keeps me warm

“Wait, don’t pull away just yet.” * The 126 gives TK and Carlos matching gifts for their one-year anniversary.

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A/N: This is inspired by yesterday’s Tarlos selfie because everything related to these two makes me emotional these days.

- - - - - -

TK and Carlos’s one-year dating anniversary ends up being a surprisingly popular occasion, and not just for the two of them.

They’ve been planning their weekend getaway for weeks, each putting in time off of work and renting a lake cabin outside the city. TK cannot wait to get his boyfriend into bed the minute they arrive, with no plans to leave it until the weekend is over. He can already tell that it’s going to be incredible; he loves any time that he gets to spend with his best friend, but it’s always so much better when they don’t have to wear clothes. In his opinion, a person hasn’t lived until they’ve stumbled sleepily into the kitchen to find a butt-naked Carlos Reyes hovering over the stove, frying eggs and dancing to music.

TK will never forget the first time that happened, the image of his boyfriend’s backside branded onto his brain for what is sure to be the rest of his life. It’s a gift that keeps on giving, and he’s really looking forward to recreating that image over and over again throughout the next 48 hours.

But, the really surprising gift is how big of a deal their anniversary is for the rest of the 126.

His team plans a whole surprise party at the very end of their Friday shift, right before the getaway - complete with a big pot of Grace’s famous chili and a cake that says “CONGRATULATIONS, YOU’RE BOTH STILL SICKENINGLY ADORABLE ALL THE TIME!” in blue frosting. There’s music and laughter, and even a highly intense game of foosball between Mateo and Judd that ends with Mateo dancing on top of a table in victory.

Carlos shows up an hour in, having just finished his own shift, and the screams and cheers that ring throughout the room as they greet one another with a hug and a quick kiss are enough to make them both blush all the way down to their toes. The police officer seems just as surprised as TK was by the unexpected event, and when Carlos spots the cake on the table, he laughs so hard that tears appear in his eyes. His smile is so stunning, so beautifully bashful, that TK just wants to wrap him in his arms and never, ever let him go.

Later, when Carlos finds himself wrapped up in a conversation with Paul, TK pulls his dad off to the side. “Why did they make such a big deal about this?” he asks, gesturing to the room and all of the people gathered for them. “It’s just a dating anniversary, I didn’t think people really cared about those.”

His dad just gives him a small smile, clapping a hand down on his shoulder. “Because they love you, TK,” he states simply, like the answer is obvious. “And they love Carlos. They’ve had front-row seats to the two of you getting your shit together and falling in love, and I think they just wanted you to know how happy they are for you.”

TK doesn’t say anything, blinking back uninvited tears. His dad pulls him closer, pressing a kiss into his hair. When it becomes clear that TK can’t respond, his dad moves away without another word, giving him time to collect himself before rejoining the party at Carlos’s side.

Things begin to wind down when the evening crew leaves to respond to a call, leaving just their small team, along with Carlos and Grace. TK knows that they should probably leave soon, or else he’ll be up late packing for the trip. Carlos, naturally, has been packed for two days; he’ll be gloating all weekend if TK loses any sleep because of his procrastination.

They’re sitting side-by-side on the couch, fingers linked, talking to Grace and Nancy about their “weekend plans” - the fake ones that they’ve created to share with other people - when the rest of the crew approaches them, mischievous smiles on their faces. TK notices that Marjan and Paul’s hands are hidden behind their backs.

“Why do I suddenly feel unsafe?” Carlos asks, clearly having noticed the same concerning signs that TK did.

“We got you guys something,” Paul says, his eyes almost twinkling. TK wonders if it’s too late for him and Carlos to escape from their own party without being noticed.

“You really didn’t have to do that,” he replies, sharing a look with Carlos. His boyfriend’s eyes are wide as saucers, his eyebrows rising further up his forehead the longer TK looks.

“I think once you see the gifts,” Marjan pipes up, laughter clear in her voice, “you’ll see that we absolutely did have to do this.”

At the same time, Marjan and Paul pull identically-wrapped boxes from behind their backs, handing them over. TK and Carlos unlink their fingers to take them and, with one more look back towards the crew, they tear into them.

From the box, TK pulls out a soft, black hoodie. His mouth drops open when he sees what’s printed on the front: above an illustration of Carlos’s face are block letters that read “HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GUY?” and below, “IT’S NOT AN EMERGENCY, I JUST WANT TO TELL HIM I LOVE HIM.” TK feels a smile pull at his lips as his face heats up, his mind immediately understanding the joke.

A month or so after they started dating, TK and Carlos developed a habit of seeking each other out when they were on calls together. Before they lived together, it was one of their few ways of seeing each other around their busy schedules. Even after TK moved in with Carlos, they made it a point not to leave a scene without at least saying a quick hello to one another. Sometimes, depending on the nature of the call, they don’t get a chance to speak at all, and those times always leave an uncomfortable itch under TK’s skin. It’s almost like his body can’t make sense of being near Carlos and not touching him at least once.

His team quickly noticed how they would gravitate towards each other on calls and, after one instance when TK returned to the truck with a deliriously happy grin on his face, they had questioned him endlessly, wanting to know what was going on. “Carlos just wanted to tell me he loved me,” TK had shrugged nonchalantly, moving on to put his equipment back on the truck, not realizing his mistake in sharing that tiny detail.

Ever since, their friends have teased the two of them endlessly, telling TK to go collect his “I love you” from Carlos so that they can finally leave a scene, or reminding Carlos in passing that he should consider sharing his “I love yous” with other members of the team who also deserve positive affirmations. It’s gentle ribbing, and TK secretly loves it.

Which is why his brain is going insane over the gifted hoodie. “Oh my god,” he hears from next to him, and he turns to find Carlos with an identical black hoodie. The only difference is the image of TK’s face between the words instead of his own. TK bites his bottom lip to try to hide his smile, leaning in to press a kiss to Carlos’s fire-red cheek.

“Okay, okay, put them on,” Marjan interrupts, and TK realizes that she’s pulled her phone out. He spots Judd filming them behind her, Grace at his side. “We have to get a picture.”

Carlos groans, but TK can see a brightness in his eyes and he knows that his boyfriend is a little touched by the gift. He understands completely, feeling the same emotions himself.

They both sit up on the couch, pulling the hoodies over their heads. TK is unsurprised to find it really soft and comfortably warm. He looks over to discover Carlos looking absolutely adorable in his own hoodie, and reaches for his hand to link their fingers together again, the need to touch him in some way too strong to ignore.

“Get closer, act like you like each other,” Paul jokes, reminding them of the task at hand. Carlos leans back again and TK presses into his side, smiling up at the camera. He hears multiple shutter sounds as Marjan takes dozens of pictures on her phone.

When he’s sure that she’s finished, TK moves to rise off of the couch, ready to start saying his goodbyes, but he’s stopped by Carlos’s tightened grip on his hand.

“Wait, don’t pull away just yet,” his boyfriend says. TK turns back to him, taking in the soft gaze on Carlos’s face, the way his smile stretches wide, laugh lines appearing at the corners of his mouth. He looks so warm and cuddly, and TK can’t help but to sink back into his side, their faces inches apart as Carlos wraps his arms around him.

“I love you, TK,” Carlos whispers, giving him a wink. TK huffs out a laugh, realizing that he’s staying true to their long-established habits, now documented on the hoodies they’re both wearing.

“I love you, too,” he whispers back, leaning in to press a kiss against Carlos’s inviting lips. It’s just a quick one, but it sends a wave of sudden heat from his ears down to his toes. A kiss from Carlos always feels like a sudden electrical surge coursing through all of his bones, lighting him up in ways that nothing else can.

“Ugh, you two are shameless,” Marjan scoffs from nearby, but TK ignores her and everyone else around them. Instead, he takes in the crinkles at the edge of his boyfriend’s brown eyes, the way his entire face is alight with love and affection as they stare openly at one another. Then, because he just can’t help it, he leans in for another kiss, this one deeper than the one before.

It consumes him completely, the warm feeling of being loved always and forever by Carlos Reyes.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #I wrote a thing #my tarlos one-shot collection

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