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dilemmaontwolegs · 4 months

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Ghost Whisperer || CL16

AN: another one from the archives of forgotten fics.

Summary: gifted with the ability to talk with the dead, you meet a man who wants you to take him to Monaco to check on his godson.

Warnings: mentions of death

Your family holiday had taken a turn when you reached Nice, France, and found the apartment that they had rented was already occupied. They were oblivious to the man who had lived there a decade earlier but your sixth sense had spotted him the moment you walked in the door.

“You’re going to love him,” Jules repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning.

“This isn’t Tinder,” you said to the apparition sitting in the passenger seat of your rental car. “I’m just going to find your friend so you can finally rest.”

“What’s Tinder?”

“Nevermind.”

“And he’s not just my friend,” he corrected. “He’s my godson, he’s family.”

You sighed as you imagined how the conversation would go with a child. It was hard enough trying to explain your gifts to adults who understood what you were saying, they just didn’t believe you. Everyone thought you were just trying to scam them when you said you had a message from a loved one.

“He’s the kindest kid you’ll ever meet. You’ll see.” Jules smiled as you followed his directions and crested over the mountain range to see Monaco in all its summer glory. “Beautiful, right?”

You were awestruck by the sight of the sun on the sea and his smile grew at your loss for words. It was a shame you had to drive when all you wanted to do was sit and watch the city grow before your eyes. Unfortunately it took a huge amount of energy for a ghost to even move a feather so there was no hope of Jules taking over the steering wheel for you.

Once inside the city he directed you to a home that the family had lived in and hopefully still did. The white door had a large brass door knocker in the shape of a lion and it was cold to the touch when you grabbed it.

“Bonjour,” a friendly middle aged woman answered and Jules breathed her name like prayer. “Puis-je vous aider?”

“Do you speak English?”

“Yes, is there something I can help you with?”

You looked to your left and Jules gave you an encouraging smile. “I was hoping to speak to Charles. Is he here?”

You were aware it was a weekday and he was likely at school but it was still disappointing to see Pascale shake her head. “He hasn’t lived here for some time, are you a friend of his?”

She was already growing defensive, crossing her arms over her chest as she waited for your answer. “No, we don’t know each other but a mutual friend asked me to pass a message to him.”

“Aw, we are friends,” Jules chuckled and you had to fight to resist rolling your eyes.

“Perhaps I should call my son,” she murmured as she held a hand up. “Just wait here a moment.”

She closed the door behind her and you waited impatiently as you shifted on your feet. “What happens if she doesn’t give up his address?”

“The city isn’t that big, I’m sure we can find him.” His attention turned to the door and he went to nudge you but his elbow went straight through, causing goosebumps to travel across your skin.

“Stop doing that,” you growled as the door opened. Pascale gave you an odd look as she found you alone waiting, but she didn’t ask who you were talking to as she held a phone out.

“He wants to know who this mutual friend is.”

You took the phone and raised it to your ear. “Hello, is this Charles?”

“Yes, now give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call the police and have you trespassed?”

You reeled back at the animosity, but also the depth of his voice. He was not the child you had envisioned. “I have done nothing wrong.”

“I understand you are a fan and I appreciate that, but you cannot just keep showing up at my mother’s house and expect to find me. There is a boundary and this is crossing it.”

You pulled back the phone to look at it in disgust before you turned and took a step away from his mother. “I don’t know who you think you are, hot shot, but I was only doing this because your friend asked me to. For some reason he thinks highly of you, but I can’t say the same.”

The seconds dragged on and if it wasn’t for his soft breathing you would have thought the call disconnected. “Who?” he finally asked.

You took a steadying breath knowing this was almost always the point that you lost their interest. “Jules.”

“Goodbye.”

“Charles!” Your ears rang with Jules’ outburst and the screen pixelated before returning to normal to show the call was still connected. Charles’ breathing turned ragged as he choked on his tongue knowing the voice he had heard. Doubt and other emotions roiled his insides but he couldn’t hang up no matter how much he wanted to.

An address rattled off his heavy tongue and Jules recognised the street name, giving you a nod. “I’ll see you soon,” you said as you handed the phone back to his mother.

“Please don’t hurt him,” she asked as she pocketed the device.

“I just want to pass on a message and go back to my holiday,” you promised, though she frowned at the evasive words that created more questions she held back.

By force of habit, her frown deepened when you nodded your head to the empty space beside you and muttered, “Come on then.”

Jules lingered another moment, his hand reaching for Pascale’s only for her to shiver and wrap her arms around herself. With a sigh, he turned away and heard the door click shut behind him.

“She was like a second mother to me,” he said quietly as he caught up. “The kindest woman I knew.”

“You also said Charles would be great but so far that is not how I am feeling.”

Jules had nothing to say to that, but it had been 10 years since his death. Perhaps a decade had changed Charles while Jules remained the same.

–

The apartment building was as pretty as the rest that you had passed but the afternoon sun left a shadow climbing its walls and you couldn’t help feeling like it was an omen as you buzzed his apartment number. Instead of answering, the front door unlocked and you stepped inside apprehensively. Each step on the tiled floor echoed and you followed the apartment numbers as you climbed the stairs to Charles’.

His door was already opened, a handsome man leaning against the doorway, and his eyes narrowed as they scanned you with each step closer. You wanted to elbow Jules for not telling you his godson was Adonis reincarnated but Jules was in his own state of shock seeing Charles grown into adulthood. The boy he knew was long gone, this was a man.

“My mother said to listen to you, that is the only reason you are here.” He stood up straighter, blocking you from seeing the inside of his home. “Say what you need to then go.”

You looked at Jules but he wasn’t any help as his jaw still hung open. You decided to go with honesty but really you were just taking a shot in the dark, he didn’t seem like the type to believe anything that was going to come out of your mouth. “My AirBnB in Nice came with a ghost named Jules and he wanted me to find you.”

Charles' hands dropped limp at his sides before a sharp laugh erupted and he stepped back into this apartment. He reached for his door, ready to slam it closed when Jules emerged from his stupor and whispered a few words for you to repeat.

“Bring it home, underdog.”

Charles froze at the words and nearly stumbled as he spun around. Anger painted his face and he closed the distance in a few strides as he shoved a shaking finger in your face. “What did you say?”

You swallowed at the animosity in his tone before straightening your spine and looking him in the eye. “The only way you show these guys you’re not a charity case is to prove them wrong and win, kid.”

His nose twitched as he struggled to understand the words he had heard once before. “Who told you to say that?”

You jutted your thumb at Jules. “You know who, the same man that told me.”

An array of emotions flitted across his face before settling on disbelief. “That’s not possible.”

“I wish,” you murmured before looking at Jules, and you felt bad. “Sorry.”

“I wouldn’t want that gift either,” he admitted. “Can you tell him he looks strong? And he finally grew into his big head.”

“Jules says you look good.”

“I said strong.”

“Strong, whatever,” you corrected. “He thinks you look strong. And you had a big head. Are you still racing?”

Charles followed your eyes to the space beside you but no matter how hard he tried to focus he couldn’t see anything. “I must be crazy.”

You snorted a laugh at what Jules said before repeating it. “No, you were crazy when you drove for years without knowing how to use the brakes.”

“I was eight,” Charles defended himself before realising that was not something widely known and something akin to wonder brightened his face. “Jules?”

“Yeah, kid, I’m here.”

Charles stepped aside and waved a hand in, urging you to follow him to the dining room table. He grabbed three bottles of water without thinking and then frowned as he put one back, a look of sadness washing over him.

“Don’t feel sad,” you said as you accepted the water. “Good things came about because of his death.”

Charles scoffed and untwisted the bottle cap with more force than necessary, spilling water over his hands. “Not for me.”

“You’re alive because of him, and that makes him happy,” you said, taking his hand across the table and squeezing it. “Because of Jules they made the halo and that saved your life, and others too. He would take the sacrifice any day.”

“Always,” Jules echoed. He placed his hand on top of yours and it drifted through, sending goosebumps up yours and Charles’ arms.

“Jules,” you growled as you shook your hand out, but Charles stared at his in wonder.

“I felt him,” he whispered in amazement. “Mon Dieu!”

—

The next few hours passed by with an onslaught of questions, mostly ‘how’. How do you do it? How long have you seen them? How did you find out?

Slowly the questions became more personal.

“Do you do this for work?”

“No way, well kind of, maybe…I’m studying history. It does help when the old professor still hangs out in the library. He’s happy to help whenever I have questions.”

“Isn’t that cheating?”

“It’s no different to a tall person playing basketball. Success is just playing to your strengths.”

“Is talking to the dead really a strength?” Jules asked as he crossed his legs and drummed his fingers on his lips, pondering. “Surely you are just missing out on life.”

“I don’t think you’re one to talk, you’re still here when you could be enjoying whatever afterlife awaits.”

“I wish I could hear him,” Charles sighed. “Why hasn’t he moved on?”

You shrugged and looked at Jules for an answer.

“I promised Hervé I would watch over him.”

Charles’ eyes misted and his head bowed as he tried to hide how he wiped the tears away. “I’m an adult now, Jules, you don’t have to stick around for me.”

“I see that now,” he said with a sad smile as he stood up and ruffled Charles' hair. “I love you, kid.”

Charles’ breath shuddered from his lungs as he felt the large hand on his head for a second before it disappeared. “Is he…is he gone?”

You watched Jules step out onto the balcony and warmth flooded the room as he faded into the shimmering light.

“Now he is,” you swallowed the lump in your throat that always came with the final goodbye. Standing up, you looked to the door and wondered if you should quietly leave but when you looked back at Charles, his eyes red and cheeks wet, you knew you couldn’t leave him that way.

Walking around the table, you took a seat next to Charles and took his hand. He broke away from staring silently at the wood grain and knots in the table and sniffled. “Thank you.”

“I would say anytime but…”

You smiled as Charles managed a small chuckle. “I think once is enough, but I wonder…” he looked around the room. “You haven’t seen my father have you?”

You shook your head. “There wasn’t anyone at your mother’s house either. It’s likely if he was at peace then he’s already moved on.”

“Good, that’s good.” He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes, wincing at the dampness on his hands. “Sorry.”

“I’m used to it, you cry as much as you want. There isn’t exactly a right way to feel when it comes to this,” you admitted as you looked out of the balcony to see the marina looking even more beautiful.

“I don’t know how to thank you.” He caught your lingering gaze and cleared his throat. “Maybe I could show you the city?”

“You’re probably in shock. You should rest,” you said with a shake of your head. “But I’m pretty sure I saw Monaco on my mum’s itinerary for next week. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

Charles reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. “Or maybe you could call me?”

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc x reader

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surielstea · 22 days

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Taunts and Tension

Based on this request!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader and Azriel go on a spy mission and come back a little more touchy than usual?

Warnings: Sexual tension | Briefest mention of a threesome | innuendo of oral (m receiving)

2.8k words

“You have got to be kidding me,” The Shadow Singer grumbled as the High Lord told him we’ve been partnered for his next mission.

“Unfortunately, he’s not,” I huff to the tall male, just as annoyed as him. “Rhys with all due respect, I work alone,” Azriel contended and I scoff. “Does that apply to your love life too?” I quip but they both ignore me. “I know Az, but Eris likes her, he’s more likely to play by our rules if we use her as bait,” Rhys says. “It’s just a meeting, the both of you only have to get along for a few hours,” He hums and I roll my eyes, I couldn’t refuse the offer, he was paying me double for this. “Fine,” Azriel uttered, the fool agreed for free.

“Good, you leave at sunset,” The half-fae instructs then quickly dismisses the both of us when his mate comes into his office, a babbling Nyx in her arms. “Hi sweetie,” I coo at the two-year-old as I pass Feyre on the way out. “Auntie!” He exclaims with a bright smile. The High Lady waved at me and I returned it. “Be careful on your mission tonight,” She advises and I brush her off. “It’s just a meeting, nothing to be worried about.” I smile. “Oh, I wasn’t referring to your assignment,” Her eyes flick to Azriel and my lips form an ‘o’ shape in realization. She chuckled then gave me a wink as the Shadow Singer passed by me, muttering a curse under his breath. I return her smile then nod in a farewell and go the opposite direction down the hall.

The Spring Court was a lot duller than I had expected. Sure the flowers were in bloom and the sun still seeped through the trees but, there was no vibrancy to the colors. “Feyre really did a number on this place,” I hum, looking out at the deserted Court. It still held some beauty, the crystal clear lakes with lily pads floating heedlessly, the rolling hills, and flower fields.

“I kind of feel bad for him,” I mutter, bending down and plucking a daisy from a patch sprouting out the trunk of a maple tree. “Don’t,” Azriel huffed. We were on the border between Spring and Autumn so there was a weird merging between wildlife, the magnolia trees slowly shifting into maples, bunnies sectioned from foxes, and lush forests morphing into rustic woods.

“Are we early or is he just trying to make an entrance?” I sigh, already bored. “Early,” He replies and my shoulders sag. “Can you only respond with one-word answers?” I narrow my eyes on the Shadow Singer. He smirks. “No,” He says and I grit my teeth, looking down at the daisy in my hands.

We go silent for a moment. I stare out at the dusky sky, the last of the sun slipping below the hills. He seems content to continue staring at me, much to my dismay. I didn’t know what for, it’s not like he had to keep an eye on me, and there was nothing I could do that his shadows wouldn’t report back to him, they were often all over me, seemingly out of his control when I was around.

“What?” I snap my head back to him after only a minute, his stare becoming too physical, like I could feel the way his eyes traced my features. “Why are you dressed like that?” He tilts his head. I look down at my gown with creased brows. It was a silk slip, a rich mocha color. I look at what he’s wearing, his usual leathers. “It’s a meeting Azriel, we’re not battling warriors,” I remark. “Is it because we’re meeting with Eris?” He tilts his head. I cross my arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I bite back. “That you’re trying to impress him,” He surmises.

“Nuh-uh!”

“Nuh uh?” He mocks. “That’s your defense?” The brunette scoffs and my frown deepens, leaning against the tree at my back. “I wore the dress ‘cause I didn’t wanna change, okay?” I explain with narrowed brows. “And it’s not my fault he admires me,” I add. “Not that you know the feeling,” I murmur under my breath but of course, he heard it.

He takes a menacing step forward, shadows turning sporadic around him and I roll my eyes on the dramatics of it— anyone else would’ve been begging for forgiveness just by looking into the darkness of his eyes. “What was that?” His hand comes to my chin, forcing my head toward him. I jerk out of his hold with a grimace.

“I said you don’t know what it’s like to be admired, or do you need a reminder that you’ve been chasing the same girl for five hundred years?” This time I was the one to take a step forward, my chest nearly pressed to his. “Because newsflash Az, she doesn’t want you—” I start but his hands come to my wrists and pull them up above my head, pinning me to the tree, his other hand on my hip so I can’t thrash.

His nostrils flared, eyes ablaze and I nearly laughed. “You’re constantly teetering on that edge huh? Can’t ever keep your temper in check?” I arch a brow up at him, my smirk only widens as I watch him grit his teeth. He knew what I meant. Knew that he pounced on anyone who damaged his fragile ego, and talked down on his precious family, gods forbid I mention Morrigan. His hold moves from my waist to my neck, wrapping his large hand entirely around my throat, softly squeezing.

“You’re choking me,” I whisper out and the sadistic fuck has a smile on his face. “You seem like the type to be into that,” He presumes and he wouldn’t be far off if this was a different situation. I flush pink at the idea, it’d be a lie if I said I hadn’t imagined the Spymaster on top of me more than once. My cheeks were burning hot, I was beyond embarrassed, and slightly turned on.

“Not so talkative now, are we?” He was so close, so close his body was pressed to my own, our breath shared as his face hovered above mine, cauldron damn his height.

“Let me go,” I pull at my wrists but his grip is iron, and maybe my attempts were halfhearted because, in all honesty, I didn’t want to leave this position one bit. “You learn your lesson yet? Or are you gonna keep being a brat?” He hums and arousal pools in my panties. I quickly glamour the scent, praying he didn’t recognize it before I got the chance. “Fuck you,” I seethe, continuing my futile attempts to escape. “Such a filthy mouth, you wanna put it to better use?” He asks and if I wasn’t red before I definitely was now. “In your dreams,” I hiss. “Oh love, it is,” He smirks, and my brain stutters. What’d he just say?

My pointed ears perk before I can reply, noticing an unfamiliar pair of footsteps. Not Eris.

“Someone’s coming, kiss me,” I say with a rushed tone. “What?” His hand loosened around my neck. “Just—” I don’t finish and interrupt myself by lifting onto my toes and crashing my lips against his.

He seems taken aback for a moment then to my surprise, leans into it. I melt at the feeling. He was tentative at first but once I showed him this was what I asked for he seemed almost, hungry. His hand slips from my throat and cups my jaw instead, calloused thumb pulling at my bottom lip and forcing them open. I can’t help but obey his silent command, parting my lips wider so he can capture me fully. His mouth seals over mine yet again and my stomach ties into knots, the thrumming sensation in my ribcage making me realize this was a point of no return.

His tongue explored my mouth like it was his and his alone, he was devouring me and I savored every moment. An energy buzzed between us, my wrists still pinned up by his hold, but I wasn’t any less greedy with my lips. I wanted him to taste me, to memorize me, and never forget the feel of his lips on mine, I wanted it to hurt when he had to pull away. Languid movements with his tongue turn into messy, impatient strokes, needing all of me right then and there— and I would’ve given it to him if not for that pair of footsteps returning, so much closer this time.

“What’s going on here?” A gruff voice demands answers and Azriel hesitantly detaches, like he was unwilling.

It takes me a moment to even open my eyes, gods if he’s got me this paralyzed over just a kiss who knows how much more I could take? Azriel lets go of my wrists and I regain consciousness.

“I’m sorry Officer,” I put on my most innocent smile. The male in front of me was Autumn Court patrol, lower in rank based on the patches on his arms. “What’s an Illyrian doing so far from home?” He snarled the word like it was a curse. “We’re traveling sir,” I say, intertwining my hand with Azriel’s. He stiffens at the action as if I didn’t just have his lips on mine. “Travelin’?” The officer scoffs. “Out here?” He hums. “Yes sir, it’s our honeymoon,” I grin wildly, trying to capture the excitement of newlyweds as I hold our linked hands up.

The officer raises his brows a fraction, he was buying it. He was visibly older, you had to be ancient as a fae to start having wrinkles and this guy had plenty. “You know, I feel like I recognize you,” He hums and I swallow thickly. It was more likely for Azriel to get recognized out of the two of us, so the Shadow Singer didn’t take his chances and stuffed his face into my neck, lining kisses from my shoulder to my jaw. My hand goes into his hair, weaving my fingers into his soft, dark locks as I continue carrying on the conversation.

“Really? What from?” I tilt my head, resting my luck. “Not quite sure…” He thinks for a moment. “Ah, forget it probably just confusing you with my granddaughter, she’s lovely like you,” He says and I giggle light-heartedly. “That’s sweet to hear,” I smile. “Alright you kids be safe, perhaps find an inn somewhere,” He starts his trek once more. “Thank you, officer!” I call to him and he gives me a wave.

I nearly cackle as Azriel pulls away from my neck, my lipgloss smeared along his lips. I reach up and wipe it away with a teasing smile. “Not much of a spymaster if I’m the one saving you, hm?” I say, hands cupping his cheeks. “You were the one distracting me in the first place,” He defended, crossing his arms and I snicker. “Awh, poor Illyrian baby is pouting 'cause I’m better at his job,” I taunt, his gaze on my lips as I talk.

“Well, that was quite the show,” A familiar, smooth voice intones from a short distance away and I whip my head towards the figure, leaning against a tree with an unmistakable foxlike smirk on his face. “How long have you been standing there?” Azriel questions and it seems like the Heir might laugh. “It’s truly a wonder how your shadows didn’t find me, though I suppose they’re preoccupied at the moment,” He gestures to the ground beneath me where they were pooling at my feet, flicking up and twining at my ankle every now and again, completely forgetting what their job was in my presence.

The meeting went smoothly, Azriel was a bit on edge with the lack of his Shadows but other than that Eris complied easily, he seemed to have something up his sleeve but we’d worry about that at a later date, we were only ensuring his loyalty was still with us.

He updated us on some information including his father, the two males briefing over a plan to take down Beron, and as I stood there I realized I was just for show, a shiny jewel for Eris to look at, keep his attention before he got the idea that he could survive on his own. Not that I minded being looked at by the Heir, he was quite pretty— hel, I’d be lying if I said I haven’t dreamed about both the males in front of me, at once, more than once.

Azriel shadow-walked us back to the House of Wind when we were finished, or rather when he was finished. I probably could’ve stayed a few more minutes just to admire Eris in the pale moonlight, but my plans just had to be foiled by the Shadow Singer.

Az flew me the rest of the way into the house bridal style— since you couldn’t winnow straight in due to the wards. His hold on me felt more familiar than usual, and when he put me down he didn’t step away so neither did I.

“Hey,” Cassian said from the dining table, a mouthful of food muffling his voice. We both swivel towards the male, sat next to Nesta who couldn’t be bothered to look up from her book to greet us. “How’d the mission go?” The brunette at the table said once he swallowed his food. We both stiffen, the memory of that kiss has been replaying in my head over and over since it ended and yet it felt odd for anyone else to bring it up.

“Uh, went nice…” I shrug. Nesta looks up from her page, eyes piercing as they read me like the chapters in her book. “Really?” She intervenes and I nod. “Yup, just, so normal,” Azriel blurts out, and for a Spymaster, he was awfully bad at lying. Cassian creased his brows, clearly concerned for his brother. “Why are you acting so weird, then?” Nesta interrogates and the male and I share a look. “I don’t think he’s acting weird,” I scoff. “Do you think you’re acting weird?” My words are fast like I only have one breath to finish my sentence. “Pshh, never,” He shakes his head, looking down at his feet then back up to Lady Death.

“Right, well, man am I exhausted,” I stretch, feigning a yawn. “Yeah, the mission really wore me out,” He sighs, rolling his shoulders like there’s a weight off of them, following me up the stairs towards the bedrooms.

Nesta looks to her mate, a small smirk on her lips. “What?” The lord of bloodshed says cluelessly. “They’re totally going to fuck,” She hums, sinking into her chair a little and picking her book back up.

Azriel and I split off into our respective bedrooms, just across the hall from each other.

I paced beside my closed door, wondering what the fuck was I thinking when I let him kiss me. Sure I’ve always thought he was pretty but that was always a stupid fantasy, not something I would ever pursue… until now. Fuck, I am so finished. I repeatedly hit my palm against my forehead as I racked my head for any thought that didn’t immediately trace back to him. I couldn’t even look at my own hands without thinking about his hands, how they held my jaw— no. I wasn’t going to let myself romanticize this, it was just a mission. Nothing more. Just a kiss. A yearning, passion-filled kiss that fed all my cravings and somehow created new ones.

I groaned, deciding that this was the finest form of torture. I now stand still in front of my door, hoping that if I stare hard enough at it, he’ll come knocking and kiss me again because, fuck, I do want him.

I can’t sit here and wait for him to come rescue me from my own torment so I do it myself, hand coming to the doorknob and before I can psych myself out, I fling the door open.

To my shock, I’m immediately met with Azriel’s figure, his hand up like he was just about to knock.

“You couldn’t even let me make an entrance?” He tilts his head and I roll my eyes. “Shut up and kiss me already,” I grab him by the collar of his leathers and pull him in, the door closing behind him as his lips crash onto mine yet again.

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mechaknight-98 · 3 months

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Caiju Clean-Up Crew (NSFW) Ft: Momo

When you first came to Earth you were surprised at how kind the Earthlings were, despite being in a constant war with the kaiju. It was endearing, to say the least, but that was two, or three no 5 years ago. Now you were fully integrated and couldn't leave all that cleanly, so you got a job at the Kaiju defense force clean-up team and lived with your friend Momo Hirai, a highly loved and popular anti-Kaiju fighter.

While at work a new employee approached you asking to go to lunch with you. You tell the lady politely that you already have plans to have lunch with your roommate and she sighs before leaving you alone. You finish cleaning up the pieces of Kero Kero, and check your watch,

“Okay, lunchtime,” you say. You wave your friends off and jaunt over to the office. Mono is waiting for you outside in her civilian clothes and mask. So she wouldn't be mobbed by adoring fans

“Ready?” she asked. You nod as you follow her.

The both of you go to the garden of the Anti-Kaiju Defense Force Headquarters. You open the lunch boxes you packed for the both of you. Momo smiled as you handed her food.

“You know what I love most about your cooking Dai-san?” Momo asks you

“The fact that I don't have to make it,” Momo said before taking out her chopsticks and digging in.

“Oh Daihouzan sensei.” you hear a voice come. You groan as if it were the new worker from earlier. She was pretty, too pretty she drew too much attention to herself and it didn't bode well for the flying under the radar you had been doing for the last year.

“Uh Yeah Mrs Chou.” How can I help you?” you asked Mrs Chou

“Oh so polite, but please call me Chewy everyone does.” you nod at Chae’s request

“Okay, Chewy how may I help you,” you respond

“ I heard you got the highest recorded score for the aptitude test in the history of the AKDF. I was wondering if you could help me as I'm retaking it in three weeks and I'd like to move from clean up to the frontlines and I figure who better to teach me than the prodigy himself.” Chewy says to you. You sigh seeing the optimism and hope in her eyes, but before you can dash little Chewy’s dreams Momo steps in.

“I'll work with you,” she says with a rare smile you recognize as a challenge. You cock an eyebrow at your roommate. “Besides you don't want Dai-san as a teacher, he will overload you with information you don't need.” Momo teased.

“Hey they had to change the test because of me,” you said defensively with pride.

Momo rolls her eyes and then faces Tzuyu. “We’ll get you in top shape regardless,” she says

Tzuyu smiles and then thanks the both of you before leaving. You turn to your roommate confused.

“Why are you getting her hopes up? You know how the AKDF are.”

“Because we need more lady front liners and you are too pessimistic,” she says

You tilt your head and reply, “Well if everything was not so engrossed in politics I would have helped her, but the higher-ups they'll eat her alive.”

“Good thing we're going to make sure that doesn't happen,” Momo stated matter of fact

“What do you mean we? You agreed to tutor her,” you called Ge

“Please Dai-san that big ole heart of yours is going help and you know it.”

You groan as the both of you finish up lunch and then head back to work.

The rest of the shift lacks considerable amounts of excitement so Momo and you are both able to head home rather easily and earlier than normal. You and Momo arrive home within seconds of each other. You sit on the stool by your shared countertop when she opens the door. She smiles at you seductively. She grabs you in a hug. You can feel the stress in her body intertwined with her body as much as her curves are.

“What happened today ?” You ask

“What?” Momo responded

“Your tension. It's like if someone injected cortisol into every part of you.” you follow up

“What?” Momo said

“The stress chemical,” you explain Momo nods.

“I always forget how smart you are because of how lazy you are,” Mom says.

“So you're just going to ignore my question? What's up? Is something wrong.”

“No big dog everything is fine. It's just I have been testing a new anti-kaiju weapon, and it's been quite…what's that word you use when something makes you tired tolling?”

“It's probably taxing. Or you could mean it taking a toll.”

Momo clapped and said “The first one.” you smiled at your roommate.

Momo yawns before looking to you for comfort

“I know it's my turn to do dinner and lunch but Dai-san can you do it? I am so tired Dai-san can you help me shower too? I'm too tired after today's fight,” she says with a teasing smile. You consider her words. Your roommate was gorgeous by both Hyperion and human standards so you couldn't complain seeing her body you were also drained from your work today so it was not as enticing a proposition, but when you saw her fall asleep standing you knew she was exhausted. You catch Momo luckily before she falls and she smiles at you. “Thanks Dai-San.”

you smile saying “Any time.” you pick up the slightly older woman and carry her to your apartment’s shared bathroom. You sit her on the toilet before readying the bath and boiling and grabbing all the ingredients for a quick 30-minute meal out. You head back to the bathroom where Momo is already asleep again. Her breathing is fatigued something you have seen before many nights when the two of you would study relentlessly during training camp for the AKDF. You smile as you get up and help her undress. As you leave her grasp to let her get into the tub she grabs you.

“Please stay,” she says.

“But.” You try to respond but Momo counters

“Please” You knew she had you when her eyes did that big pleading thing where she looked at you like a small animal. Helpless and vulnerable. So you relent. You undress as well which causes Momo to blush.

“What? I’m not wasting water if you want me to stay with you, we are showering together like old times.” Momo chuckled as you took your shirt off.

“Wow, you’ve let yourself go.” She teased.

You cock an eyebrow before saying, “Hey watch it. One more snippy comment and I’ll leave.”

Momo nods then shuffles slowly to the bath. As the two of you clean the other off she sighs and says, “I have been so tired lately.”

“Me too and going to sleep doesn’t help as well.” You agree

“Yeah, I keep having this dream of being chased by a giant kaiju.” Momo states

You turn to her, “Wait really? What kind?”

You ask her and she briefly describes the same Kaiju who had been chasing you as well in your dreams. You groan and get up. Momo looks at you confused.

“I’ll be right back.” You say

“Wait why?” Momo asks

“We might have an infestation.” You say. Momo snaps to attention and follows.

The two of you get dressed and head outside of your apartment. You notice every acting progressively more sluggish and tired. This serves as only more fuel for your theory. You walk out of the building grab a big rock and throw it at a window. When the window doesn’t break you turn to Momo. She nods and heads back to HQ. Not wanting to waste the time though you find a quiet place with no prying eyes and take out your rizer. You use it to transform into your Hyperion form where you see the leaching kaiju attached to your building. You grab the camouflaged kaiju and slam it safely away from your building. Without wasting any time you use your Special particle beam to kill it and fly away looking for a safe place to go. Change back into your human form. On the way back to your apartment you pick up one of Momo’s favorite sodas to allay suspicion.

When you arrive back at the complex Momo is there she turns at you.

“Where did you go.”

You hand her the soda and she takes it graciously.

“Hyperman showed up and killed the kaiju for us,” Momo says relaxed. You nod. “I know I was not a fan of his but I do appreciate his return. At least this once.”

You nod and say, “Well at least we can rest now.” Momo raises an eyebrow

“I’m feeling rejuvenated. We should spar.” Momo said shadowboxing your way. You smirked at her but eventually let her have her way. You follow her back to the HQ. The two of you badge to the surprise of the attendant waiting

“Oh, Mrs. Hirai good to see you.”

“Great to see you, Mina.” You wave at the attendant

“Good to see you Mrs Myuoi.” You say. The attendant who was also a frontline fighter on leave for mental health smiled

“Please Daihouzan you don’t have to call me that.”

“I do when you outrank me.” You tease

“Oh please we both know half our defense team wouldn’t be here without our “Friend-Father”” Mina fires back.

You shrug. “How’s Dahyun?” You ask.

“Oh, she’s good. She has been working hard for her next promotion so she can join us in the frontline fights. You should reach out she misses you.” You chuckle.

“She knows where my office is, and my open-door policy hasn’t changed.” Mina nodded and said that she’d tell Dahyun then. The two of you walk to a sparring room that should have been empty but was full with Drill Instructor Jihyo teaching a group of recruits. Jihyo’s stern facade instantly melts when she sees the two of you.

“Dai-San Momo Unnie.” Jihyo greets you and Momo with a smile. Momo and you hug Jihyo before she asks if you guys are looking to use this sparring room. Momo nods.

“Wow just like old times. I can’t believe it’s been 4 years since graduation.” Jihyo says. Momo and you have since reminded me of the slow creep of time never stops.

“Well I’m done with this class do the two of you have any advice for them?” You scratch your facial hair at the wide mix of students before saying “Learn Kaiju anatomy. It will increase your combat effectiveness with less expenditures of energy and resources. One well-timed hit at a Kaiju’s weak point will do more than 100 rounds of Arakami bullets.” Momo laughs at your correct statement.

“Stay well rested. Kaiju attacks can happen at any time and even though Hyperman has helped us with a lot of battles we can’t rely on him for every major battle.” Momo says Jihyo agrees with that more than your advice which stings a little since the two of you used to be so close. If you were the dad friend she was for sure the mom friend. but you didn’t hold it against her. As the class leaves Jihyo turns to the two of you and says, “Try not to tear the roof off this time.” You assure Jihyo that you’ll keep Momo in check

“Hey, it’s not my fault the new Kaiju weapon was so powerful,” Momo said defensively.

After that, it was just the two of you again. You get into a fighting stance. Momo looks at you surprised.

“That’s Hyperman’s fighting stance.” she says You shrug and Momo stops, “No you just can’t shrug that off,” Momo says. You worried your cover had been blown.

“Take this seriously. Hyperman’s style is sloppy and too showoffy.” Momo said. You stood there taken aback for a moment, not sure what was more surprising.

“Hey, he’s not lost a fight so he must be doing something right.” You challenge

Momo rolls her eyes again before saying “Fine have fun getting beat up.”

“You can try.” You say.

Her first attack is predictable. She opens with one of her famous kicks. You roll out of the way and trip her still-planted leg. She looks at you wide-eyed. You look at her and raise your hands. Momo's twin kicks to recover her footing. You back up and she does three flips to lead into a chop. You dodge and grab her arm before slamming her (gently) into the mat. You back up and retreat to your ready stance.

Momo was not lying when she was rejuvenated she came at you for 3 more hours of sparring. It went about the same as the beginning Momo would do an offensive move you’d block or dodge then gently reset to neutral. This frustrated Momo to no end making her sloppier and wilder as the match went on. Eventually, she grew tired of your guarded and defensive style. So she decided to adopt a mirror stance to yours instead of engaging she planted her two feet down. You smiled as she tried to taunt you into charging

“Come on make a move. You scared. See anyone can just durdle and play defensive.” She yelled. You smile and switch stances. Momo looks on in concern. You approach slowly. You make one strike which she guards but due to the sheer force, she still stumbles back. You give her time to recover. She makes a measured and calm strike. you block and make an open palm strike at her chest. She falls back. You wait for her to get up and change stances again. You begin to circle her slowly. She strikes at you with another powerful kick and you turn and return with a kick of your own, she received the hit and lands on her butt. She finally taps before you help her up. You turn back to see you have gained a crowd watching the two of you spar.

“Alright shows over,” Momo says as the two of you walk out.

The two of you arrive back at your apartment where you begin cooking again. Momo still having restless energy begins feeling you up while you cook.

“Ugh, I hate how good of a house husband you are,” she says

You turn to her confused

“It's an expression, don't they have those in America?” you hesitate as you nod as being “American” was your cover for the time being.

“It means you are good at doing stuff around the house. Considering how many times I haven't had to go hungry because of you looking out for me.

“So what's your point?”

“Oh come on. I'm not doing it for you. I have been practically throwing myself at you the last few months.”

“Oh well excuse me for remembering when you said. I like you but not like you as a friend.” You tease Momo. Momo smirks

“Can't a girl change her mind?” she cooks. You roll your eyes at her. Which causes her to smile before bringing you into a heavy kiss. What caused you to snap out of it was the burning sensation from the stove your hand was on.

“Ahhh. That hurts.” You grimace.

Mono smiles before saying, “I just wanted to give you a taste of what's to come.” to further her point she seductively puts her finger into the pan you are using where the food is and erotically takes a swipe before putting said finger in her mouth.

“Delicious as always.” Mom exaggerated before sashaying away. As her body moves you are mesmerized by the way her ass looks in her tight battle outfit. You feel the blood rush to your other head as try not to think about all of the less-than-virtuous things you'd do to her. You finish cooking without any disasters and set the table and food for Momo and you. “Momoring food is ready,” you say curious as to what she's doing.

Momo walks out of her room in her bra and underwear which isn't an uncommon occurrence. What she usually wears is a sports bra and boy shorts, but today she opted for a bold and brazen red and black lace lingerie set. You blink three times before your self-control shatters. You get up and kiss Momo with passion and emotional build-up you've had since you met her 4 years ago. When you break it her pupils have dilated so intensely there is hardly any brown left.

“Whoa someone is pent up.” Mom teases as she begins to caress your clothed erection.

“Shut up,” you say taking off your pants. Momo smiles. She even giggled when you picked her up, but that all changed when you put her in a mating press. She groans as do you as you penetrate her for the first time

“Ahh ugh.” she moans luridly

You begin to thrust and Momo yells “Oh god yes. This cock is filling my tight pussy so well.”

“Oh you like it?” you tease

Momo moans as you fill her, “God I love it. Why have you been hiding this cock from me for so long?” as you thrust her womanhood clenches your manhood with the clinginess of an anxious lover.

“You're so tight Momoring, why are you worried I'm going leave you.”

Mom turns to her face to you. Those gorgeous brown eyes glare fiery and passionate.

“I guarantee I gotcha.” she purrs before initiating a torrid kiss. She regains dominance over you by forcing her tongue down your mouth when you break the kiss she smiles caressing your face. “Cum for me honey.” she teases causing you to erupt violently within her walls. You scream from the intensity of the orgasm. When you regain your senses you set Momo down and you use the countertop to steady you. Mom stares you down as she dips a finger into her pussy where your cum is trailing out of her. She smiles and traces a line of semen with her finger before bringing it up to lick it.

“Hm, you taste good as well,” Momo says with a voice made husky by the overwhelming erotic pleasure she felt. You give her the time-out gesture which makes her laugh. She sits down to eat the food you made with a smug grin.

“Don't tell me you're all tuckered out,” Momo says with a mischievous tone.

“Listen when you have 4 years of emotional catharsis built up and then released by your unrequited lover then you can talk.” you fire back. Which causes Momo to take a step back,

“Wait we've known each other 4 years?” she says confused

“Yeah I know I've loved you since I first laid eyes on you, but how could I not? You came into my life like a battle angel, full combat gear the mecha suit wings. It was stunning.”

Mom smirks then smiles you sit down and begin eating with her.

“So you have liked me all this time?” she asks again. You nod before she gets up walks over to you and starts stroking you to hardness. When you're aching again she plants herself back on you. You groan still sensitive from the last time.

“Tell me what you love about me!” she demanded as she began to ride you with a tortuously glacial pace.

“I love your tenacity and enthusiasm for your craft. You work so hard and it just fills me with pride and admiration for you,” you respond. Momo speeds up

“More.” she moans

“You also aren't consumed by the job you still maintain your identity in all of this and it makes me ahh,” you say as you trail off her pussy is dripping wet but she is still oppressively tight if not tighter with each praise from your mouth.

“Come on I’m almost there.” she groans as she expertly grinds over your cock.

“You're such a good girl, you are so kind and helpful to all of those around you,” you say also nearing another climax as she continues to bounce on top of you. You do notice an intense string of tightness from Momo when you call her a good girl so you go all in

“Oh, you like being my good girl? (her pussy vice grips you driving you feral) well, I like you being my good girl too. (you squeeze her ass) My good girl has the nicest ass. My good girl has the prettiest brown eyes and the tightest pussy.” that last line sent her over the cliff and she exploded all over you.

“Oh god. Oh god, I'm cumming” she moaned as she came. You feel her squirt all over you and her pussy attempt to milk you for all its worth. As her orgasm raged on she continued riding you before saying “Come on baby cum for me I need it.” her words set off a cascading effect causing your second orgasm and pushing her into another one of hers. As the two of you cum for what feels like hours (it's actually like 7 minutes.) the two of you make out and paw at the other desperate to keep the high going.

When the two of your bodies finally calm down Momo asks, “Do you have any of your kaiju clean-up supplies? Because we made quite a mess.” you roll your eyes, and she gives a hearty laugh.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #male reader #hirai momo #twice momo #twice smut #momo smut

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stevieharringtonwifeguy · 1 year

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changeling steve whose fae abilities activate early bc of the upside down, which surprises him bc he had no idea he wasn't human

usually changelings are a little weird, but don't become like Full Fae until they come of age, somewhere around 20, but sometimes if their life is in danger or they're otherwise under a great deal of stress, they can Blossom early

steve's never been a little weird. in fact, he's always been good at being Very Normal, always exactly what everyone expects him to be, exactly what everyone wants him to be. when he's young, his parents want a quiet boy they can show off at dinner parties, so steve dutifully bends his personality into shape, polite and good enough at the piano to play something for the grownups and let them coo over him (never too good or too polite, because his parents want him to be a little boy who'll grow into a Man's Man, and that means not liking music too much and climbing trees without getting dirty and pulling on girls pigtails)

when he gets to high school, his parents want him to join sports teams, so he bends his personality again and doesn't think about how easy it is for him to gain the muscle mass and dexterity required, because he must just have some kind of natural talent for it. the team has its own expectations of him: they want a King, someone who's good with girls and likes to kick down at the unpopular masses, so he does that too, picks up on everyone's insecurities the easiest out of all his followers, always seems to know exactly how to twist his words to make his victims feel the worst

then he meets nancy, and it's the first time he's not sure exactly what someone wants from him. sometimes he wonders if she even knows what she wants him to be. he still does his best though, because that's what he does, bending and twisting into the perfect boyfriend, sweet, attentive, a little roguish just to keep the edge on. and for a while it works, even after barb and the demogorgon and the nailbat in his trunk that doesn't fit any of the people he's supposed to be and sometimes makes him itch so much he feels like his skins going to crawl off

but then it's the next halloween, and nancy calls him bullshit and he knows she's right. doesn't know how to not be bullshit though, no ones ever wanted that from him. he could try though, for her, he thinks, if that's what she wants, so he shows up at her house a few days later with a bouquet, only to find dustin henderson demanding he take out his bat again

and later, in the junkyard, while the kids are in the bus yelling and steve's been knocked on his back by a demodog, bat out of reach as he frantically pushes at the heavy weight of the monster on top of him, he curses how weak and useless his stupid human hands are. if he was more like the demodogs, with their gnarled claws and copious amounts of teeth, he'd have no problem winning this fight. and as he thinks it, as he deliriously and desperately wishes he had some kind of natural defense against creatures like this, something changes inside him. it feels like someone's injected pop rocks into his bloodstream, and they seem to collect in his hands, where they're still uselessly scratching at the demodogs tough hide

except, they're not uselessly scratching anymore. now they're carving into the thing like butter, because his nails have gone from blunt and fragile to something long and hard like steel, and the tendons in his hands have shifted and strengthened to be much more effective at cutting through meat. he has claws now. actual, literal claws, a lot like the ones the demodogs have, although his are sort of glowing and shimmering from within like he's full of fireflies. it would explain the buzzing in his veins. but he can't think about that now, has to get this thing off of him, has to protect the kids, has to live another day

and at the same time, across town in a little trailer, the only two witches in hawkins have just gotten hit with a blast of released magical energy that's so strong it sends them physically reeling. eddie actually falls on his ass. wayne helps him up while the kid asks what the hell that was, and honestly wayne isn't absolutely sure himself. doesn't feel human, even if the mortal panic it's laced with feels very human indeed, and it takes him a while to place that fizzy feeling as fae magic. a Blossoming.

so he explains to eddie about changelings, cuffs him good-naturedly around the head when the kid immediately relates it to his nerd game (he does this every time wayne teaches him something new about magic), and explains a little more about fae in general. he's told eddie about them before, but fae tend to keep to themselves, so there's been no real need to explain more than basic etiquette and safety measures eddie should take if he ever came across a fairy in the wild

now though, he explains, he thinks eddie should reach out. that Blossom was early, panicked, which means there's some kid out there about eddie's age who's going through magical puberty into an entirely new species directly after some kind of terrible ptsd-inducing event. so he tells eddie to keep an eye out for them at school, because magical folk gotta stick together, and eddie agrees, because they do, and frankly yeah that sounds like a terrible thing to go through alone and confused

so imagine his dismay when king steve shows up to school the week after, clearly beat to shit and looking confused as hell when the things he reaches for end up in his hand without him actually grabbing them

reaching out might be a little harder than eddie expected. but, cursing himself a little for being too good a person to leave even king steve in the dark like that, he does it anyway.

#and yeah obviously they fall in love #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things

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creamhoodie · 5 months

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𓆩♡𓆪 Period Play 𓆩♡𓆪

A/N: A Christmas Eve gift also helped me get through my period this week. synopsis: Gojo stimulates you while you are on your period (afab reader, reader uses a tampon, set during Gojo's jujutsu high days, all characters are young adults)

“Why didn’t you go on today’s mission?” Satoru Gojo said, opening the door to your dorm room and poking his head in.

“I’m sick,” you said motioning to the state you were in: lying in bed with a heating pad on your stomach and a box of chocolates next to you. The background noise of a chick flick you were watching filled the brief silence.

“Bummer. I missed you out there today,” he said, now fully coming into your room and closing the door behind him. He plopped himself down on the edge of your bed and looked closer at you. “Wait when you say sick you mean-“

“I’m having menstrual symptoms, yes Gojo,” you told him, a little annoyed at his presence. While you did admire him for being the strongest, you found he could be arrogant sometimes and he was always teasing you.

His crystal eyes seemed perplexed, almost stumped.

“Oh well, are you feeling okay?” He asked unsure, it was the first time he sounded unsure of himself.

You failed to hold back a laugh.

“So all it takes to stump the great Satoru Gojo is some period symptoms that’s very funny,” you giggled.

He narrowed his eyes.

“No. I know about this stuff plenty of the women in my clan went through it. I just didn’t wanna seem insensitive is all,” he said genuinely.

“Oh okay. Well I appreciate that,” you said, accepting his words then adding, “Gojo those are mine!” when he popped a chocolate into his mouth.

“Can I stay here with you for a bit and hangout?” He asked, licking his longer fingers for any residue of the chocolate.

Now it was your turn to narrow your eyes.

“Why would you wanna do that?” You asked.

“I told you, I missed you out on the mission today,” he replied.

“Did you? I thought I always slowed you down,” you said.

It was true that he was infinitely stronger than you and even without his abilities his body never seemed to tire as he was in perfect shape despite his raging sweet tooth.

“Sometimes you do, but you’re good company and I like saving you,” he said with a hint of pink in his cheeks.

His words made your heart beat pick up speed and his stunning crystal eyes becoming puppy like wasn’t helping.

“Okay you can stay and ‘hang out’ or whatever you called it,” you conceded.

“Sweet,” he cheered, kicking off his shoes and rummaging around until he was sitting beside you under the sheets. “What?” he asked innocently as you watched him make himself comfortable.

“Nothing. Now give me my chocolates we can share but I’m holding them otherwise you won’t.”

——

You had ended up restarting the chick flick for Gojo to watch it from the beginning. He teased the cheesiness of it at first.

“You seriously like this type of thing?” He asked, brows raised.

“I do. I like romance and sweet gestures,” you replied a little defensively. It was a guilty pleasure especially because the romance in your life had been lacking lately.

“Okay hold your fire I was just asking. No need to get all defensive on me, doll,” he said snickering.

You ignored him but took the last chocolate as payback for his teasing your heart relishing the way his voice turned boyish as he exclaimed “hey!”

As the movie progressed Gojo seemed more invested, no longer making witty remarks. He had also allowed for his knee to rest against yours under the sheets, the slight contact making you blush. You dared not look up at him however, not wanting to be caught. It was unfair that he got to sneak all the glances he could at you (and unbeknownst to you there were plenty!) but it would be so obvious if you looked up at him.

After a while you dozed off.

You only came to when you felt Gojo shifting under you.

“Gojo?” you asked, groggily as your mind registered your position.

You had ended up laying on his chest and on top of him in your sleep as he sat there in a relaxed fashion like your own personal recliner.

“Good morning, doll. You missed the ending but I gotta say it wasn’t as bad as I thought,” he teased.

From where you were laying you could smell his natural scent as well as his musky earthy cologne, the smell of him was enticing to your pheromones. “Like how I smell?” he was clearly amused and you looked up at him now, he was watching you intently.

“Gojo stop being weird, I just woke up. Sorry for falling asleep on you,” you said, straightening yourself up so you were sitting next to him again rather than laying on him.

“Your face is red,” he teased.

“Because it was hot under the blankets,” you deflected.

His grin said he knew otherwise.

“You’re cute when you’re sleeping,” he said.

Again, your heart began to pick up speed and to your horror you felt a second heartbeat in a much more intimate area.

“Okay, well since the movie is over you can go now. Thanks for keeping me company. See you on the next mission,” you said, trying to force nonchalance when you felt anything but.

Gojo laughed and leaned closer to you.

“See you on the next mission? Why are you talking to me like we’re just colleagues?”

He came ever closer still, bridging the gap between the two of you so you could smell his minty breath.

“Isn’t that what we are?” you asked, blinking slightly. Time seemed to stop with him and suddenly you were hyper aware of everything from his long white eyelashes to his lush pink lips and of course his signature crystal eyes.

“Ouch, I would have at least called us friends, but you wanna know something?” his voice was like molasses as if he wanted you to take in every word.

“What?” you asked.

“I don’t just wanna be your friend,” he confessed. His lips were on yours and you exhaled a breathy moan you didn’t know you had been holding in. “Fuck, do that sound again,” he whispered between kisses.

You did, it was easy with the way he was making you feel breathless as his tongue and lips completely intermingled with yours.

Your hands went instinctively to his undercut, always having wanted to touch it, you did now, fingers grazing the blunt hair texture causing him to moan into your mouth.

Hormones raging you struggled to wrap your legs around his waist, but luckily he knew what you wanted.

Effortlessly, he positioned you two so he was in front of you in a sort of missionary fashion, your legs draped around his shoulders, he bent forward to give you tongue filled kisses.

“I’ve wanted this so bad, you have no idea,” he whispered to you.

“Me too,” you came clean at last. You made out with him some more and you felt his erection through his pants against your sex causing you to come back to reality. “Gojo, I'm on my period, remember?”

He blinked as if remembering but he was as witty as ever.

“So? A little blood doesn’t scare me. Does it scare you?” he teased.

Your face flushed with heat. Of course it didn’t scare you but the prospect of him seeing you in that manner did.

“Gojo!” you whined in disapproval.

“I’m kidding, god you’re so fucking cute when you’re riled up. There’s plenty of other ways for us to have fun,” he said.

As if to demonstrate, he resumed kissing you, his hands inching up your shirt hesitantly, you nodded to give him approval and he continued. You sighed in bliss as you felt his large hands cup your breasts as he continued to kiss you. His thumbs massaged the nipples that were hypersensitive from it being your time of the month.

“Feels good doesn’t it?” he said softly to you as your lips broke apart.

You could only nod, eyes rolling back in pleasure. He continued to massage your nipples and as he did he grinded his clothed erection against your clothed sex stimulating you as much as he could.

“Gojo.. so good,” you moaned.

“Call me Satoru,” he said, his voice shaky, almost vulnerable.

“Satoru..” you moaned, indulging his request and you didn’t miss how his eyes softened at you doing so.

“Fuck, can I take your shirt off?” he asked his voice heated and eyes still soft, a thrilling combination that was making your stomach leap with butterflies at what it could mean.

“Yeah,” you said, granting him permission, it was getting too hot anyways.

He eagerly popped open the buttons of your top and you didn’t miss how one went flying in the air.

“Sorry. I’ll fix it or get you another. Just so excited,” he said breathlessly.

“It’s fine Go- Satoru,” you assured him, unhooking your legs from his shoulders and opting to sit up to help him shrug the sleeves off until the whole thing was discarded and forgotten on the bed.

You hadn’t been wearing a bra so your full breasts were exposed. Gojo had always taken peeks at your breasts and down the cleavage of your shirt when you weren’t looking. It was all too easy for him given the height difference. Now faced with your exposed breasts he couldn’t look away, feeling like an adolescent again seeing a pair for the first time.

“Fuck,” he whispered, again cupping them with his hands. You trembled, loving both his reaction and touch. “your tits are fucking perfect.”

He bent forward and to your amazement he began sucking on your nipple while his other hand worked the other nipple, massaging it with his fingers again.

It was all too much and somehow much more sensual than you would have ever expected foreplay to be.

He looked up at you from where he was sucking your tit, blue eyes not leaving your face. His lips felt so good, the stimulation against the sensitive skin so pleasurable, you couldn’t help but grab his head to hold him in place.

He was bringing out sides of yourself you didn’t know existed, a new sexual confidence you hadn’t had before. Between him and your hormones, the racing of your pulse in your veins and clit you just wanted more of him.

This newfound confidence caused you to move his head between you both your tits now, pressing your arms against yourself closer so your tits were fully enveloping his face.

“Yeah that’s it, suffocate me with your tits baby,” he groaned, his words muffled but decipherable against your skin.

“Oh god,” you moaned, your lips quivering completely on the brink of losing it now at the new endearment he had called you.

You mentally cursed your cycle for cock blocking, you wanted him, no you needed him desperately.

“You wanna be fucked so bad, I can tell,” he teased and you figured not even a face full of tits could silence his playful personality.

“Shut up,” you replied but loosened your grip so he could come up for air, now his face was flushed and snowy hair was a full on mess, plastering down on his forehead with sweat.

“It doesn’t take six eyes to tell you wanna be fucked, even a blind man could tell,” he said.

“So what are you getting at? You seem in a similar state yourself,” you asked.

“Well my offer still stands. I wouldn’t be the strongest if a little blood scared me,” his eyes glowed mischievously.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you contemplated it. You were wearing a tampon after all, maybe he could stimulate your clit a little and help you orgasm?

“Mmm, okay Satoru but we can’t do much else besides clitorial stimulation because you know,” you said.

He perked up.

“Sounds good to me. I’ll do only what you want,” he said.

He got off the bed positioning himself on his knees in front of you, pulling your legs closer to him so you were within perfect reach. His long fingers reached for the ties of your sweatpants and you suddenly felt shy. You began to overthink: this was your first time hooking up with him, what is too much too soon? What if he didn’t like it? Even worse, what if you smelt even though you had been keeping up with your hygiene more than usual because of your period?

He sensed your hesitation, pausing.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked softly, voice serious for once.

“Yeah I’m fine,” you replied, ever the people pleaser.

He knew better.

“If you’re uncomfortable we don’t have to do anything. I just wanna make you feel good that’s all,” he said genuinely.

You searched your feelings. You wanted him, you always had, and now you had your chance to be with him. What was stopping you? Just fear, fear that he wouldn’t like it or he’d judge you.

“I want to, Satoru I’m just..” your words drifted off. Luckily, he knew, he always seemed to know.

“Scared? That’s okay. I’m right here with you. I’ll take care of you,” he said.

His sentence.. it was the very same sentence he had told you on your first ever mission when you were paired up with him. You had been so scared then and he had said these exact words to you, and it was then that you had begun to fall for him. It was something so little but it meant so much and as the memory played in your head it gave you the assurance you needed.

“You can go ahead now,” you said nodding to him.

“Yeah? Alright, let me know if you wanna stop at any time. You’re in charge,” he said, visibly excited.

With that, he undid the tie of your sweatpants and you helped him slide off your body along with your underwear, he placed your garments carefully on the floor.

Your bare sex exposed to him now, you didn’t feel as embarrassed as you thought you would have. Maybe it was because of his reassurance and the way he treated your clothes with such care that showed you he’d be non judgmental.

“Wow, you’re incredible,” he praised as you laid completely nude to him.

He used two fingers to feel up your wet folds making you shiver and your breathing hitched when he found your clit. He started rubbing your clit with his two fingers in a circular manner. He loved the way you let out a little ‘oh’ your face taking on an expression of absolute ecstasy.“That’s a good girl, your moans are so fucking sexy,” he said.

He was enjoying himself as well, making you feel good turned him on but then again everything you did sexually or not had always had an affect on him. You had said clitorial play only, and he was fine with that, after all he was a master of worshiping the clit.

Lucky for you, his fingers weren’t the only ones that were well versed in this art form. He inched forward, slicking his tongue across your precious pearl.

“Oh- Satoru- fuck yes!. mm,” you sounded unhinged, extremely in heat and all because of him.

It was everything he had wanted since he had seen you for the first time and as he continued to lap and simultaneously rub at your clit he enjoyed the view of your naked tits rising and falling with each breathy moan.

“Keep going, fuck, please keep going,” you begged taking full advantage of his earlier statement of you being in charge.

He had no intention of stopping and he had taken to licking the rest of your sex, tonguing your fleshy labia lips as well. He felt that he could spend infinity here between your thighs eating you out, and god did you smell good. He wasn’t the type of man that entertained foolish unrealistic fantasies of women smelling like roses down there and he was experienced enough to know what a pussy smelt like and yours with its heated metallic scent and taste was sending him over the edge.

“So good,” he lapped at your arousal, “so fucking good.”

Hearing how turned on he sounded made you pulsate more and you couldn’t help yourself, like you did before you reached down and took hold of his head pressing his face against your pussy.

It was criminal how insanely good he was at this, criminal how he had withheld this ability of that smart mouth of his from you. God, how many times have you two had spare time from finishing a mission early? Countless and to think you could have spent that spare time with him like this.

Your moans began to sound wet and guttural as tears rolled down your face from the immense gratification he was making you feel. As you felt yourself getting closer to climaxing, your grip loosened on his head as you fell back against the bed, hands falling back as well and gripping the sheets.

He glanced up at you, his face slick with both sweat and your arousal as he continued to pleasure you. The way your hair was matting to your forehead and was disheveled brought him glee since it reminded him of when he’d ruffle the top of your hair to tease you.

“Satoru, I’m so close,” you whispered.

“I know, I know,” he cooed gently as he paused, opting to only stimulate your clit with his fingers now. The raging erection that had been present during this whole ordeal pained him now and he wanted nothing more than to sink into the deep warmth of your pussy, but he understood that wasn’t possible right now. He’d later jerk off to the thought of you (not for the first time) to relieve himself, right now he wanted the focus to be on pleasing you. He found your most delicate spot and set a rhythmic pace.

“Yes, Satoru right there just like that!” you exclaimed enthusiastically knowing that if he kept his motions in this tempo you’d soon orgasm. He followed your command, eager to watch you hit your peak and he decided to aid you in that regard by talking dirty.

“You’re so fucking hot, you know that? Always have thought so from the moment I saw you.”

His words earned him a yelp from you and caused your knees to buckle, that made him smile… so you love when I talk dirty to you, doll, he thought to himself.

“You know how many times I thought about taking you as my own while we were out there all alone together on missions?”

He kept the same tempo you had instructed and he put his free hand on your waist, fingers kneading down the thick flesh of the side of your ass.

“Better yet, you know how many times I stroked out to you when we’d go our separate ways for the night staying at whatever dingy hotel we could find?”

By this point his words, his confirmation that his attraction to you ran as deep as yours for him was making your toes curl.

You were so fucking incredibly close as if standing at the edge of a cliff, body full of adrenaline.

“Truth is I may be the strongest but you’re the only thing that can render me completely weak, doll,” he whispered.

And off the cliff you fell into a cloud of pure bliss as your body released its orgasm. It felt so good, better than anything you had experienced. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, closing on their own accord.

It was a fulfilling end to this symphony of pleasure he had brought you.

“Satoru… that was amazing,” your words slurred and were almost buzzed as if you were drunk.

To think this was the pleasure he had brought you only with his tongue and fingers. You were willing to bet that the pleasure he could bring you was limitless but for now you focused on catching your breath feeling as free as a cosmic star.

—-

“Can I stay with you? I’m not the type to hit and run,” he said after you finished redressing yourself. He had cleaned you (and his face) up before gently handing you your clothes and straightening himself up to his full height.

“Yes I suppose you can,” you said awkwardly not knowing how to go forward in this new dynamic with him.

He seemed to pick up on that.

“Things don’t have to be weird between us, you know they can keep being how they’ve been,” he said.

“And what does that mean?” you asked looking up at him from where you sat at the edge of your bed.

“It means I can still do this,” he said ruffling your hair, causing you to protest. He leaned forward, hands resting on the sides of the bed as he eye level with you “and I can do this,” he added, kissing you softly.

You moaned against his lips, enjoying the way his lips felt against yours. When your lips broke apart he said:

“Now should we cuddle for a while? You can enjoy my scent freely without having to pretend you don't,” he offered.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk smut #jjk fanfic

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xo-urban · 1 year

Note

After reading the medic reader fic, I got this idea and just had to ask : can I request Ghost x male reader, who got kidnapped during a mission.

They were together on a patrol, everything was fine until all of the sudden a few enemy soldiers appeared, Ghost and reader were able to take them down until one of them pressed a knife against reader throat, telling Ghost to back off. He didn't want them to hurt his friend, so he just watched as they dragged reader away.

Immediately after getting back to the rest they organized a rescue mission, but the area where Reader could be held was really big and it took them a few days to finally narrow it down to a small, abandoned building.

Just imagine Ghost, covered in blood of their enemies, sitting on the ground with readers unconscious and beaten body, sobbing out that he loved him and that he was sorry for not being able to protect him, that he let them take him away and hurt him, torture him.

I NEED ANGST.

With a good ending ofc, slay bestie 😌💅

Loved this yet hated this emotionally. ANWYAYS ENJOY!

Can’t Afford Losing You

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Male Reader

Summary: You get captured and Ghost doesn’t take it well, doing everything it takes to get you back.

Warnings: Blood, Violence, Angst, He’s crying, mentions of death.

Word count: 1734

The rain pounded down on the land. You shivered at the cold, gritting your teeth as you adjusted the hold on your rifle. Ghost was by your side, almost unphased by the weather. “You’re telling me you aren’t cold!?” You shuddered as you kept on walking. Why the hell did Price decide this was a great day to check the outskirts of the base for any enemies. “You’re just a little.. Overly reactive..” Ghost chuckled lowly, “I’m wet- freezing- cold! I better have some time to warm up when I’m back inside.” You growled.

Ghost was about to speak but heavy footsteps began to approach. “People are here..” You spoke quietly, trying to make out humanoid shapes through the heavy rain, Ghost nodded, lifting his gun. There was a thumping of footsteps all around the two of you.

You clicked your tongue, watching the men come into view, you had no hesitation firing, shedding the first blood as bodies dropped dead in front of you. Ghost had your back, firing at anyone who dared to reveal themselves out of bravery.

You were pulled forward by your wrist, a loud crack followed by your own yell. Your gun fell to the ground as you were pulled into a headlock, knife pressed against your throat. “Stand down!” Your opposer held the blade into your neck slightly, drawing a few drops of blood.

Ghost’s eyes widened, it all happened so fast, your wrist was broken and a knife was pressed to your throat. You groaned in pain, not daring to move. Ghost cursed loudly, taking a step towards you with his gun raised defensively.

“Put the gun down and your friend here may make it out alive.” The man holding you hostage spoke, you knew damn well he was smirking proudly. Ghost dropped his gun, eyes on you the whole time, “Let him go..” Ghost spoke, aware of the guns aimed at both of you. He didn’t wanna risk getting you shot, you were a valuable part of the team they couldn’t afford to lose.

“You’re a fool.”

A man came up behind Ghost, hitting him hard in the side of the head with the butt of his gun. “GHOST!” You yelled but soon enough you too were knocked out. The darkness clouding your vision as you went limp.

“We take this man, the other won’t give us anything so don’t bother, he’s lip sealed, this one though.. we have some hope.”

You were dragged away from the mess of dead bodies, you couldn’t fight, yet the fight seemed unfair, you were outnumbered from the start. Ghost laid still in the wreckage, rain still pondering down. They didn’t bother with him, assuming nature would take Ghost herself, while you were loaded up into the backseat of an armored car, the men didn’t bother strapping you in, only shifting you to tie your hands behind your back to prevent you from lashing out on them. And with what they would call a mission success, they drove off to god knows where, taking what they needed while leaving the nasty bloodbath all behind.

—--

Ghost groaned when he awoke, lifting himself off the ground. “Fucking-” He cursed, standing up, he rubbed his throbbing head in anger. “I need to get back.” Ghost groaned, quickly picking up your rifle and his own before heading back to base in a haste, he needed to get you back. He couldn’t lose you too.

Ghost swung the door open, being greeted with Soap who had a confused expression on, “You’re back early? Where is-” “Gather everyone for a rescue mission now, we don’t have time to waste, we’ve got to get him back, I need him back!” Ghost cut him off, clearly upset that you were taken from him and he didn’t do anything to prevent it. Ghost rubbed his face in anger, letting out a yell of frustration. “We’ll get him back mate, we need to work quickly” Soap patted him on the shoulder, “See you in the meeting room L.T” Soap nodded before quickly running out to gather the men.

—--

The team organized your rescue mission, working non-stop for the past twenty-four hours. Especially Ghost, who worked extra hard to get you back, listing multiple places where you could be held at. Eventually Soap and Gaz forced him to take a break, despite the protest Ghost had, They managed to get the masked man to get some sleep.

Ghost awoke to whispers around the table, groaning as Price patted him on the back, “Just in time Ghost. We pinpointed a place.” Price spoke, voice strong but you could tell he was breaking slowly at the seams, “A small warehouse a little south of here.. We need to take precautions. By sending out someone to take a look, we found that the place is heavily guarded, it’ll be the place we expect our man to be at.” Price pointed to a small circle on the map before looking at Ghost whose eyes spoke of the hellfire that sooned to rain.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

—--

You weren’t doing too great on your end. You were beaten, tortured and interrogated. Here you were, gashes and scratches bleeding freely without anything to stop the flow, wrists bound with new zipties after you tore out of you original ones and beat the shit out of your captors. Your knuckles were split and bloody and your face was beaten beyond recognition. You leaned back against the wall, heaving, trying to get some air in your lungs. Everything was numbing or throbbing, you couldn’t tell. “I’m gonna ask one more time.. What are your operations?” A man kneeled down to meet your eyes. “You.. will never fucking get it out of me you pathetic dog!” You spat at his feet, leaning back with a cocky grin.

That’s when the gunfire started, right when you were about to give into blood loss.

—---

Ghost launched himself out of the car in haste, ignoring his team’s calls to get him to wait. He couldn’t wait any longer, not when he knew you were at stake. He fired at anyone he saw as an enemy, the bullet piercing them before they could even lift their guns. If the others won’t come with him then he’ll walk with hell by his side, his only mission was to get you out alive.

Soon the team began to provide back up once Ghost rammed into the door, knocking it down with such force it fell off its hinges. “Split up! Soap with me!” Ghost commanded before walking into the building, not bothering to wait for any other arguments.

—---

You groaned, fighting to stay awake, you heard the gunshots, you heard your team, you heard Ghost. You just needed to stay awake, it was the best you could do in your bounded, weakened state. As soon as a bright light hit your eyes, you let out a sigh of relief, smiling, “You bastards.. What took you so long?” You laughed dryly as you were cut free of your handcuffs, you rubbed your very sore wrists, hissing at the pain in your broken one.

Ghost pulled you into a tight hug, his frame shaking, “I’m sorry I took too long” He cried, but your exhaustion got the best of you, passing out in Ghost’s arms before he was able to say anything else.

Ghost felt how you went limp in his arms, he practically yelled as he held you close to him, shaking you in hopes you just fell asleep, “No- no, no, no, no!” He sobbed, his voice broken as he kept on shaking you. “Stay with me please! I-I,,” Ghost sobbed into your bloodied uniform, “Please! I loved you..! Please stay with me, I can’t lose you, I can’t do this again! Fuck- Please!” He begged through his tears, his mask wet as hiccups, sobs, pleas and cries, left Ghost till his throat was sore.

Soap finally entered the room to his horror of finding you in Ghost’s arms unmoving. “We’ve got to get out of here!” Soap rushed over, trying to get Ghost up and away from your body, but he didn’t let go, as if he were to, you would cease to exist. It took a few moments to pry Ghost off of you so you could be safely transported back to the hospital. Ghost cried the entire time, staring at your unconscious body, he’d never know if you loved him back, or if you even heard his confession. His voice was hoarse so he didn't bother arguing or protesting at all.

He was lost without you.

—---

You pried your eyes open, groaning at how stiff and painful your body was. “Holy fuck..” You cursed, moving to sit up but a warm hand stopped you, carefully laying you back down. “Steady now.” Ghost spoke, eyes soft and tear stained. He wore a simple black shirt and some cargo pants, of course his signature mask still on. “Thought you died..” Ghost murmured sadly before settling down in a chair next to you. He held your hand in his own with the gentlest touch ever, as if you were the most fragile thing on earth. “Takes more than a little beating to kill me, yeah?” You snickered, Ghost’s eyes shut, his voice wavering as he spoke.

“Your heart stopped when we got you here.. You almost died..” Ghost cried softly, “I didn-” “I love you alright! I can’t lose you too, not again, I can’t-” Ghost broke down when he sighed. You needn’t say a thing, instead you pulled him into your arms, holding him close. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He repeated over and over again as he clung onto you before pulling up his mask and taking you into a passionate kiss.

You were taken back but welcomed it with open arms, leaning into the short kiss.

“I love you too.. Simon.”

Ghost’s heart was full, complete and content, he needed you this entire time yet was too scared to tell.

You smiled as you pulled him into another comforting kiss, the tension in the room easing drastically.

….

“ABOUT DAMN TIME!” Soap yelled from outside, earning a few laughs from you and Ghost.

“I agree with that..” Ghost smile, pecking your lips once more.

“So do I get to see the pretty face?”

“... Maybe later love..”

#fanfic #fanfiction #ghost x male reader #male reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #ghost x reader #modern warefare 2 #simon ghost riley angst #angst with a happy ending #angst #men crying #i don’t even have words

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willalove75 · 8 months

Text

Alcina's New Maid Pt. 16 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: Karl Heisenberg comes to visit and things get interesting.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: Light angst, mostly fluff

Notes: Part 16! I'm so sorry this chapter is so late! I struggled writing this more that I have with any other chapter before and idk why. But I hope you all enjoy it regardless💕

Click here for the rest of the series

The next day Cassandra woke you up just as the sun was rising to start training once again. You tried to look at Alcina so she could convince her daughter to let you sleep in a little more but she just laid there with a sleepy smile on her face. Both you and Alcina knew that once Cassandra had her mind set on something there was no talking her out of it.

The two of you worked on the same things you did yesterday. She helped refine your stance and the way your body moved and shifted as you dodged her attacks.

Breakfast came and went and it was back to training. You knew that she meant well and was only trying to help you, but Cassandra was wearing you out. Training went through lunch, the two of you only taking a short break to eat when Zina brought food out to the courtyard.

Not long after that Bela and Daniela showed up and they both sparred with you for awhile. The three girls had three very distinct fighting styles. Cassandra always took the offence, advancing often and quickly. Bela was more calculated. Even though you were training for self-defense she still kept herself at a distance and made you come to her. Daniela was the definition of chaos. She played both offence and defense, advancing and pulling away so you came towards her and retreated often. Her moves were erratic and unhinged and not for a second were you able to predict what she was going to do next. You could tell she was less formally trained than the other two, but from your sparring session alone you knew she was just as lethal.

By the time the dinner bell rang you were starving and exhausted. The four of you shuffled into the dining room where Alcina was already seated.

"How was training girls?" She asked.

"She did really well, improved a lot more than I thought she would." Cassandra says.

"She's better than I thought she was going to be honestly. She almost knocked me off of my feet a couple of times." Bela says as she takes her seat.

"It was SO much fun!" Daniela exclaims.

"Draga?" Alcina asks, looking at you.

"It was good, tiring, but good."

Alcina can see the exhaustion in your face and gives you a small smile.

Dinner was delicious, as per usual. Although they could have put a leather boot on your plate and you would have devoured it without a second thought. The conversation was light, the girls and Alcina talking about how their days went. You stayed quiet for most of the meal just listening; there wasn't anything you had to add to the conversation. That coupled with exhaustion you were happy to not have to participate in doing anything other than eating.

"So after dinner I was thinking I can show you how to get out of a grapple." Cassandra says.

"After dinner?" You say, your eyes darting toward Alcina with a pleading look in them. There's no way you're gonna be able to do more tonight.

"Cassandra I think that's enough for today."

"But-"

"I appreciate your enthusiasm, bug, but I need y/n in good shape for the meeting and I can't have her falling asleep. She needs rest. You can continue the day after tomorrow once your uncle leaves."

Cassandra hangs her head in defeat.

"Fine."

Alcina chuckles at her daughter and looks back over to you with a wink. You give her a small smile as if to say "thank you."

It took everything in you to not crawl up the stairs and flop into bed once dinner was finished. Alcina suggested everyone relax in the library after dinner and as tired as you were you didn't want to miss it. As tempting as your bed was, you managed to avoid passing out on it after you showered and headed to the library.

The girls picked their books and Alcina plucked one off of the shelf after perusing her options for a few minutes. You lazily flipped through a magazine you found laying around while you lounged on the couch.

"No book tonight, draga?" Alcina asks.

"Nah," you toss the magazine onto the coffee table. "I'm too tired to focus on reading."

Alcina sits in her large arm chair and places her reading glasses on the bridge of her nose. Gods she looks hot. You're too tired to try and hide your stare and Alcina smirks.

"Come. Sit with me, draga mea." She says, beckoning you with a slight nod of her head.

As you walk up to her, Alcina wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you up into her lap. You drape your legs across her thighs and rest your back against her arm.

"Comfortable?" She asks, looking down at you.

"Mhm." You say, cuddling into her.

Due to the way you're sitting and the height difference your face is pretty much against her boob. Normally this would drive you crazy, sending pulses to your core; but tonight they're your soft pillows.

Alcina lets out a soft purr as she runs her fingers through your damp hair and the soothing noise lulls you into a deep sleep.

When you wake up you're in Alcina's bed. Your eyes adjust to the darkness of the room and you realize it's still nighttime. There's a single light in the room coming from a lit candle on Alcina's vanity where's she seated. The warm light flickers across her, illuminating her porcelain skin and raven hair, highlighting the details on her face. Even though you're too far away to see, you're sure her smile lines and crows feet are bathed beautifully in the light as it dances across her skin. What isn't in the light is cast in a dark shadow. It's mysterious and beautiful, just like her.

Your heartbeat must have given you away because Alcina sets down the papers in her hand and turns to look at you.

"You're awake." She seems surprised.

"That I am. What time is it?"

"It's late, it's the middle of the night."

Alcina stands up and makes her way over to the bed.

"Why are you awake?"

"I work most nights at this hour."

"You do?" You're a little shocked, in all the times you've shared a bed with her not once did you ever feel her leave in the middle of the night.

"Mhm." She hums and sits on the edge of the bed. "The mutation allows me the privilege of needing less sleep than a human. After a few hours of rest I continue working."

"Every night?"

"Every night, save for a few rare occasions where I treat myself to the calm of the night and relax."

"So do you just wait until I fall asleep to leave?" You say, sounding more hurt than you expected.

"No, draga mea." She brushes your hair away from your face. "Most nights I fall asleep with you in my arms and get up later. Others I will lay there and listen to your heartbeat and your breathing for a few hours before I get up and work."

"If I didn't know you so well I'd say that's the creepiest thing I've ever heard." You laugh.

Alcina chuckles and slides under the covers next to you, pulling you into her.

"Well I am certainly glad that you know me then, draga."

With a kiss to your forehead you wrap your arms around her waist and rest your head on her chest. Alcina traces lazy circles across your skin where you shirt rode up on your back and you listen to her heartbeat with a sigh.

"Tired, draga?" She asks.

"No. Just relaxed, happy." Alcina hums in response.

"Good." She says.

As the scent of her perfume envelopes you, you become more aware of your senses. The silky fabric of her nightgown beneath your fingers, her toned muscles that lay underneath her soft skin, the feeling of her chilled fingers dancing across your back. You can hear her heartbeat, strong and steady, accompanied by each breath she takes. The rhythm of your heart steadily increases as you feel her body adjust underneath yours.

Alcina slides down from laying against the headboard and you rest you head in the crook of her neck when she settles. The scent of her perfume is stronger there and it makes you feel like you're floating.

The skin on her neck is soft and tender as you nuzzle against it. The hum she releases in response is nearly a purr and you smile against her skin. As your focus shifts back to her fingers, still tracing circles across your back, you hold Alcina a little tighter.

"My sweet, perfect girl. My beautiful little pet." Alcina whispers into your hair before placing a kiss on your head.

Too entranced to realize it, you place a light, open-mouthed kiss on Alcina's neck. You only realize it when you feel her chest rumble underneath you with a purr and feel the vibration of her voice.

"Draga." She says with a soft yet stern voice.

"Sorry." You say as you remove your lips from her neck.

"No need for apologies." She lifts your chin with a finger and your eyes meet hers. Leaning down, she places a kiss on your lips. When she pulls away she doesn't pull away fully, leaving her lips to brush against yours. "If you continued I don't think I would be able to control myself, is all."

The way her warm breath caressed your face, how her lips grazed yours as she spoke made your brain fuzzy.

"Don't." You whisper.

"Don't?"

"Control yourself. Don't."

Alcina smirks and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. Your heart begins to beat harder and you bring your hand to her face to deepen it. She places her hand over yours and pulls back from the kiss. Turning her head, she places a kiss in the middle of your palm and holds it against her cheek.

You can see it in her eyes: the want, the need, but you also see hesitation and worry.

"What's wrong?" You ask.

"It's not that I don't want to, draga. It's taking all of my self restraint to not pin you down and ravish you right this second." She sighs. "I fear that we might be moving too quickly. We only started rebuilding what we had a few weeks ago. And then you were hurt and-" Shaking her head, she takes a deep breath. "this is too important to rush iubirea mea. I hope you understand."

And you did. You understood perfectly and as disappointed as you were, you knew she was right. It was evident that your bodies were ready but your hearts and minds were still playing catch up.

"I do, Alcina. I do." You say, nuzzling back into her neck.

"Fetița mea dulce. Cât de mult te iubesc." She whispers as she runs her fingers through your hair. (My sweet girl. How I love you so.)

The two of you lay in a comfortable silence. The steady beat of her heart accompanied by the sensation of the lazy circles she's tracing along your skin relaxes you. Alcina lets out a soft sigh and you look up. Following her line of sight you notice she's staring at her vanity with the papers she was looking over scattered across it.

"Do you have to keep working?"

"Unfortunately."

"Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

"Of course my love." She says, nuzzling into your hair and placing a kiss on your head.

Alcina holds you in her arms until you drift back off into a deep sleep once more. When she's certain you won't wake up she gently lays you down onto the bed and kisses your forehead. She takes a moment to study your face as you sleep. She loves how peaceful you look, how you look like an angel. Her angel. After a minute she makes sure you're tucked in and continues working for a few more hours before joining you in bed once more.

Alcina was only in bed with you for about an hour before you woke up next to her. When you wake up you roll over and meet a stunning pair of golden eyes staring back at you.

"Hi." You say, your voice raspy with sleep.

"Good morning, draga."

"How long have you been awake for?"

"Quite some time."

"When did you come back to bed?"

"Approximately an hour ago."

"I'm surprised you didn't start getting ready for the day already."

"The thought did cross my mind, but laying in bed with you for another hour was much more appealing. Even if I didn't sleep."

A smile crosses your face and you curl into her, burying your face into her hair.

"Waking up next to you is one of my favorite things." You sigh.

"Mine as well, draga mea."

She places a kiss on your shoulder and wraps her arms around you, soaking in the moment before the two of you have to get up and get ready for the day.

After breakfast Alcina heads into her study to do some work before Heisenberg arrives and you hang out in one of the sitting rooms near the dining room and start to read a book Daniela recommended.

Just as the book was beginning to devour your attention the doors to the room swing open and slam against the wall. The commotion startles you and you snap your head towards the direction of the sound.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? A rogue maiden?" You sit there speechless as you take in the man before you.

The man is tall, but not nearly as tall as Alcina. He's wearing a grease-stained shirt and pants, a long tan trench coat, circular glasses, and a hat. There's a gigantic hammer that looks like it was put together with scrap metal and gears found in a junkyard slung over his shoulder and he begins to wave it around haphazardly. You can tell that the man is unshaven and by the way he's stomping his muddy shoes across the freshly polished floors, he has little manners. There's a ruggedness to him, very much the opposite of the prim and proper aura that radiates off of Alcina.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" He says with a smirk as he walks closer. "Such a pretty little thing-" he reaches up to touch your face and you can see the grime underneath his fingernails and the dirt on his fingers.

"Heisenberg! Get your filthy man hands away from her!" Alcina shouts just before his fingers graze your skin.

He spins around and you have to duck to steer clear of the hammer.

"What?! I didn't even do anything!"

"And for the love of gods watch where you swing that thing!" She snaps.

"Nice to see you too, Godzilla. Oh I've been great, thanks for asking. Yeah the lycans have been doing well on their search for those hunters that keep entering your castle's territory. You're so very welcome for protecting your precious land!" He says sarcastically. "And I was only going to tell this pretty little girl here that she should get her ass back to work before you stick her in a barrel for your next fresh batch of-."

"That is enough." She hisses.

You give Alcina a look and her eyes shift to you and back towards Heisenberg, which doesn't go unnoticed by him. He looks at you and back at Alcina and starts laughing as he turns back towards you.

"Oh I get it now, you're more than just her little maid, aren't ya sweet cheeks? You got yourself a pretty one here Alci, I wonder how long this one is going to last."

Alcina's eyes burn into the back of his head as the anger in them grows. Her fists are clenched tightly at her sides, there's no doubt she's doing everything she can from letting her claws out and taking his head off where he stands.

He sees how Alcina is reacting to his words and you notice him inhale deeply through his nose. He looks between the two of you for a moment before his eyes fall on you once more and you see that they're full of mischief.

"Whenever you get bored of this one, hold off on turning her into your next blend and be a good sister and send her my way-"

He reaches out to touch you again and his words are swiftly cut off when Alcina grabs him by his collar and throws him clear across the room. His back slams into the wall leaving a small crater behind.

Alcina stands in front of you in a protective stance, her claws are out and her chest is heaving with anger.

"I warned you, Heisenberg, do not touch her." She growls.

"What the fuck!" He yells as he picks himself up off of the ground. "What's your fucking problem?!"

He looks up and sees how Alcina is standing in front of you, how she's protecting you. He sees the look in her eyes and it clicks. Once it does he lets out a chuckle that turns into a hysterical laugh.

"I fucking knew it. I could smell you all over her from a mile away Alci." Alcina growls at him. "Oh calm down, the fact that your temper is bigger than you are is astonishing, truly. Don't worry, I won't touch your precious little human."

In an instant his hammer is flying towards him and he catches it in his hand. Your eyes grow wide, you definitely weren't expecting that. Heisenberg walks over to one of the chairs and plops down into it, resting his hammer against the chair and Alcina relaxes enough to retract her claws.

"So does Miranda know about your little," he pauses to think of the right word. "friend, here?" Alcina tenses up as she narrows her eyes at him. "I'll take that as a resounding 'yes.' I'm surprised that bird bitch hasn't taken her as one of her test subjects, especially if she knows of your interest in her. What's your name, kid?"

You look up at Alcina and she nods her head at you and you tell him your name.

"Hah, and you already got her trained? I wonder how many trips to the dungeon that took."

"She has never set foot in there and she never will." Alcina growls before she takes a seat next to you on the couch.

"So, kid, what debts did you have that got you shipped to this hellhole?" He asks you.

Alcina cuts in before you can speak.

"She has no debts and she can leave whenever she chooses."

"HAH!" Heisenberg laughs out loud. "I'll believe that when I see it. Really kid, what's your deal? In all my years I've never heard of someone hanging around here willingly. What's the catch?"

Alcina growls and you slide your hands around one of her fists clenched in her lap. You can just barely hear her breath hitch in her chest before she looks down at you. The anger in her eyes softens and you give her a small smile.

Looking back at Heisenberg, he has the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.

"Holy shit, I never thought I'd see the day. Someone finally tamed the beast and lived to tell the tale." Alcina rolls her eyes at him. "Now I really gotta know where the hell you came from."

"I grew up here in the village." You say. "She basically rescued me. My aunt and uncle kept me as their maid and had me raise their five children. Then I met her and she brought me here." Looking up at Alcina you see her looking down at you. A smile pulls at the corner of her lips and you can see the adoration in her eyes.

"Yeah, sure." He says and earns another eye roll from Alcina. "You were gonna stick her straight into a barrel after you had your fun with her, weren't you?" Alcina snaps her heard towards him and growls again.

That's the third time he's mentioned that and you have no idea what he's talking about. The confusion on your face must be obvious because he starts laughing again and looks at Alcina.

"She doesn't know, does she?" Alcina tenses up again and gives him a death stare. "Kid, do you know what goes on in the dungeon down there?"

"Heisenberg." She hisses.

"A little." You look between the two of them. Alcina is glaring at him, if looks could kill he'd be dead where he sat. Heisenberg still has a shit-eating grin on his face as he stares back at Alcina.

"Were you ever told why maids suddenly disappear?" His eyes don't leave Alcina who growls at him as a warning.

"I know Miranda experiments on them-"

"Did she ever tell you where the blood wine comes from?"

"I-"

"You are walking into very dangerous territory, brother."

"Did my dear sister ever inform you that she sacrifices her maids and turns them into the wine-"

"ENOUGH." Alcina roars. "That is enough Heisenberg."

"What?! She deserves to know if you were planning on making her next seasons newest-"

"I SAID ENOUGH." She yells, standing up to her full height.

Your mind starts to spiral as they argue. Why didn't she ever tell you that's what she does with her maids? That there was more to their disappearances than just Mother Miranda experimenting on them? Was that her original plan with you? To buy you and turn you into wine? Did she actually care for you in the beginning or was it just to butter you up before she killed you? Everything that happened in the first few weeks of your arrival is suddenly brought into questioning.

Panic starts to wash over you and the walls begin to feel like they're closing in. You try to breathe but your lungs feel constricted. You need to get out of this room, now.

Jumping to your feet you run past Alcina and Heisenberg and out of the room. The girls are just coming down the stairs when they see you run out the front door.

"Damn you, Karl!" Alcina yells before chasing after you.

Once you get outside you bend over and rest your hands on your knees and try to breathe. Your breaths are short and fast and you can't seem to slow it down.

Alcina's footsteps rapidly approach you and you stand up only to realize your hands are trembling and tears are rolling down your cheeks. Before you know it, she's kneeling next to you and rests her hand against your back.

"Shh, draga, breathe with me, okay? Deep breath in."

You try but you can't seem to get the air to fill your lungs.

"I can't." You say.

"Yes you can. Do it with me, easy, breathe in," you manage to take a bit of a deeper breath in. "and out. Good, just like that."

Alcina walks you through a few more breathing exercises and your panic begins to fade. You grab onto her dress and bury your face into her as your tears keep falling. She wraps her arms around you and holds you tight.

"I'm so sorry, draga."

"Why didn't you tell me?" You cry into her.

"I wanted to, I was going to, I promise I was."

"Why didn't you tell me the other day?"

"I was too afraid of overwhelming you. I had told you so much and it was already so much for you to process, I didn't want to add to that. I'm sorry, I should have been the one to tell you, not him."

"Was that your plan, after you brought me here? To just kill me and use my blood for your wine?" You pull back and look into her eyes and see guilt. "That's what you were going to do, wasn't it?" Alcina closes her eyes and a tear runs down her cheek. "Tell me the truth, please Alcina."

Golden eyes meet yours and fill with tears.

"I considered it. I would be lying if I said I didn't. But I promise that was not why I brought you here."

"Then why did you bring me here?"

"Draga, I've already told you-"

"Tell me again, please. I need the whole truth."

Alcina sighs and wipes the tears from your cheeks.

"I brought you here because you deserved better. Because they didn't appreciate you there. Because you are so much more than just a caretaker and a housekeeper. You are so beautiful and thought so low of yourself and I couldn't accept that. At least if you were with me, you would be appreciated the correct way. And I know I've failed at that more than once and I still haven't been able to forgive myself. But you deserved so much better and you were even more wonderful than I ever could have imagined, draga. I never expected to fall in love with you, I just hoped that you would live out your days here and be happy. I never thought you would find your happiness in me. And the only reason I ever considered doing that to you was in case I was wrong about you and you ended up being just another rude, ungrateful girl. But after those first few days, especially when my daughters were bothering you in the library, I knew that wasn't who you were. You were so kind to them, you treated them so well even though they made your job more difficult. I knew I was right about you, but I didn't realize just how incredible you were, draga. I am so sorry."

Alcina wraps her arms around you and holds you close to her. You wrap your arms around her neck and bury your face into her.

"How much more is there that I don't know?"

"Not much, but there are some things."

"Can you tell me?"

"I will my love, I promise. Can we get through this meeting with Miranda first? After that I'll tell you everything you want to know."

"Okay. Deal."

You pull away a little and look into her eyes. After you wipe the tear stains from her cheeks she rests her hand on your face and brings you into a deep kiss.

"Te iubesc, draga mea."

"I love you too, Alcina."

You and Alcina sit there for a minute as you soak in being with each other. The anxiety completely fades into the comfort she's brought you and you can feel like you can breathe normally again.

When the two of you part she stands up and dusts off her dress.

"Did you not want him to know about us?" You ask her.

"I was hoping you would never have to meet him because he is the most insufferable creature I've ever come to know. But he loathes Miranda and that alone makes him trustworthy. But since he was able to figure it out, I'm not concerned."

A loud crash comes from inside the castle and Alcina growls as she brings her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

"I don't even want to know what they are getting up to in here." She grumbles. "Come, draga. We should get back inside."

As soon as the door closes behind the two of you, you see something shiny fly through the air in your direction. Alcina quickly steps in front of you and she lets out a loud hiss and the room goes silent. When you walk out from behind Alcina, you see a large steak knife lodged deep into her leg. You freeze in horror for a moment before watching Alcina yank it out and turn her head towards you.

"I'm fine draga, there's no need to worry."

Blood pours from her leg for a few seconds before it stops and in that moment you remember her regeneration abilities and let out a breath.

"What did I tell you, especially you, girls, about throwing sharp objects in my castle?!" She yells. "If this were to hit one of my staff, or her," she says, gesturing to you. "you would wish the Black God itself would come and punish you because the wrath I would unleash-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, we get it." Karl says, interrupting her. "Big scary claws, our parts would have to grow us back, we've heard it all before bigfoot, don't get your panties in a twist."

"That almost hit her!"

"I wasn't aiming for her!"

"Then what were you-" She turns around and sees a picture of her taped to the door with knife marks in it.

With a growl Alcina chucks the knife at Karl and it stops right before the tip pierces his chest. He looks down at it in shock for a second before it clatters to the ground.

"Sorry mother." The girls say in unison.

"Can we please get to business now that you've effectively ruined one of my good dresses?" She says.

"Yeah, sure." He says with a shrug.

The six of you head into a larger sitting room and Alcina goes to change. She comes back in a long black dress and pulls you into her lap after she sits on the couch next to you.

"No more trouble in paradise?" Karl says with a smirk.

You roll your eyes at him and Alcina looks down at you with pride before kissing you on the cheek.

"Before we begin, draga, I would like to formally introduce you to Karl Heisenberg, my idiot younger brother and another one of the four lords of the village."

He tips his hat at you and leans back in his chair, crossing one leg so his ankle is resting on top of his knee. He lights up a cigar and blows the smoke up into the air.

"Bela, my book please." Alcina says.

Bela walks over and hands her mother a leather-bound book and a pen. Alcina places them in your lap and kisses you on the head.

"Draga, will you please take notes? It'll be good practice for the meeting, although I fear she won't actually have you take notes-"

"Why the hell is she going to be taking notes at the meeting?" He asks.

"Mother Miranda insisted on it."

"Oh fuck, she knows about her, knows about her?"

"Yes."

"Alcina-"

"I know."

"Fuckin' bird bitch. Do you know what she wants with her?"

"No." She says with a sigh before pulling your head into her chest and kissing the top of it.

"How the hell did Miranda find out?"

Alcina tells him what happened when Mother Miranda arrived and what transpired when you met. When she's finished, Karl smokes his cigar with a pensive look on his face.

"Well, that sucks."

"I will say the same thing to you that I said to Donna. If Mother Miranda does anything, I will stop at nothing to protect her." Her grip around you tightens and you rest your head on her chest to try and calm her.

"And what did Donna say?"

"That her allegiance is with me."

"And Sal?"

"He doesn't know about her. And I don't trust him. He will do anything to be in Mother Miranda's good graces, even if it means going against us."

"No fuckin' shit. At least we don't have to worry about him all that much. He's pretty useless as it is."

Alcina shrugs and runs her fingers through your hair.

"So how do we go about killing the bitch?" He asks with a grin.

"We don't. Karl you know she's too powerful. There is nothing we can do, not yet."

"Well if she wants her we could-"

"I will not be using her as a decoy or pawn in whatever moronic plan you have in that grease-filled head of yours."

"But-"

"No." She says with a growl.

"Fine, fuckin' bitch." He mumbles. "Lets get this over with."

You begin to take notes as Alcina and Karl talk about the hunters his lycans have encountered. He says that they found thirteen of them and his group of seven lycans were able to kill about ten of them. Three of the hunters managed to get away and four of his lycans were killed in the fight. The lycans that were left were beat up enough to not be able to follow where the three went so they retreated back to the factory.

"Then yesterday, they came across another six hunters. All wearing the same symbol as the last group." He pulls out a pendant from his pocket and hands it to Alcina who examines it. "Luckily I sent nine lycans out so none of the hunters managed to get away and all of my lycans came back this time."

"Any prisoners?" She asks.

"Nope."

"Ugh." She groans, rolling her eyes. "How many times do we have to have this conversation-"

"Chill out sasquatch, they tried. One guy was left and my lycans tried to drag him back as prisoner but the guy put a bullet in his head before they were able to get any useful information out of him."

"Well, that's new."

"Yeah, they were pretty surprised."

"So in a week there have been nearly twenty hunters? And three escaped?"

"Yup."

"I don't like this."

"And they were armed to hell too. Massive guns, tons of ammo, they aren't fuckin' around."

"Military grade?"

"You know it."

"I really don't like this. Have you expanded coverage near Donna and Salvatore?"

"Yup, found a few rogue hunters that didn't seem affiliated with these guys and only two that were by each property. But they weren't as close as they are to you."

"How close were they able to get?"

"About four miles out."

"The closest anyone has come in decades has been two miles."

"And I'll do my best to keep it that way. But from the looks of it, they're scouting. No hints of an invasion yet but I think they're planning."

"Do we know where their base is?"

"Haven't located it. Next time my guys find a group of them they're gonna stalk them back to the base."

"Good."

"So what do you wanna do, sis?"

"I need more patrols throughout the entire territory. If they're calculated they may try and strike from multiple angles. Also more guarding Donna and Salvatore's homes as well."

"I can't stretch them too thin, you know how much ground there is to cover for the castles territory alone?"

"I am aware-"

"Oh mom, can we go with Uncle Karl and patrol?!" Cassandra asks.

"Oh yeah! We haven't hunted hunters in so long!" Daniela says.

"Absolutely not."

"But-"

"No. It is too dangerous. You three are not going anywhere near this until we know what we're up against. My word is final."

"I could use the extra-"

Alcina growls at him and he shuts his mouth.

"Once this meeting is over with, and if things here return to normal, I will go out one night and cover some ground and see what I can find."

"Sounds good to me."

"Our priority should be finding their base and taking at least one prisoner alive to question them."

"Glad we can agree on something."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, I'm fuckin' starving! When's lunch?"

Alcina rolls her eyes and looks down at you as you finish up your notes.

"May I?" She asks.

You hand her the notebook and she flips through the notes you've taken. When she gets to the last page she nods with approval.

"How are they?"

"Very impressive, draga. I think you're more than prepared for the meeting, in terms of note taking at least."

"I don't think she'll be takin' many notes there, sis." Karl says.

It throws you off a little when you realize his tone isn't antagonizing like it's been since he walked in. You can feel Alcina deflate a little under you at his words and she holds you tight.

"Hey," you say, looking up at her. Her golden irises meet yours and you stare into them while you cup her face. "everything is going to be fine. Whatever happens, we'll figure it out, okay?"

Alcina nods and rests her forehead against yours as she closes her eyes. Her hand cups your cheek and she brushes her thumb against your skin.

Karl watches as Alcina melts into you. Sure, he's met his sisters other paramours, not that any of them had lasted very long - but right away he could tell this was different. Never in his long life has he seen Alcina act like this with someone. She's always been possessive of her partners but when she ran out after you, well that was new. Now this, watching as you, a tiny human, comforts her, he can barely believe it and it's happening right in front of him.

The lunch bell rings and you and Alcina are pulled from your moment. She sits up straight and adjusts herself, you notice a slight blush forming under her makeup. That and the way Karl is staring at the two of you, this must be new territory for the both of them.

You hop off of her lap and follow the girls into the dining room while Alcina and Karl follow behind.

Everyone takes their seat and Karl goes to put his feet up on the table. Alcina growls at him and he stops halfway through the motion.

"It's truly amazing that you've lived as long as you have without learning any manners." She murmurs.

"Sorry not all of us grew up as stuck-up nobility with etiquette classes and maids to wipe our asses for us. Fuckin' bitch."

"Must you use that language in my house?"

"Can't you mind your own fuckin' business?!"

"Child."

"Bitch."

The girls begin giggling and Alcina glances over at them and only gives them a little bit of a look. Karl diverts his attention to you and he has a mischievous smile on his face.

"So, kid, what in the hell made you attracted to bigfoot over there anyway? You got a size kink or something?"

"KARL." Alcina yells as the girls bust into laughter.

"Come on, I gotta know. I mean, it's gotta be her size, right? There's no way anyone can be attracted to her personality, unless 'massive fucking bitch' is the kind of trait you look for in women." You look between Alcina - who's fuming - and Karl who has that shit-eating grin back on his face.

"Don't dignify him with an answer, draga."

"Oh thank the Black God, I thought you were dyin' Alci. Actin' all sweet back there. But there's the controlling bitch I hate. Glad to see you're back to normal. Do you always let her control you like that?" He asks you.

You know he's just trying to get a rise out of Alcina so you just shrug your shoulders at him and continue eating.

"You really got this one whipped. I should make you a fuckin' collar that says 'Property of the Big Bitch.'"

"But what will your little lycans wear then?" You say.

Alcina looks at you surprised, but pleased. Karl's mouth hangs open for a moment before he laughs out loud.

"She speaks! I thought she was a fuckin' mute."

"I'm not but I wish you were." You quip.

The girls break out into hysterics again and Alcina hides her chuckle behind her wine glass. Karl laughs again and nods his head in approval before devouring everything on his plate.

The rest of lunch went well. Aside from Alcina getting so mad at Karl she threw a chair across the room and threatened him with her claws a few times. You and Karl got into a rhythm of throwing digs at each other and he and the girls told stories of all of the trouble they've gotten into over the years.

When lunch was over you and the girls said your goodbyes to Karl and you helped clear the table. The girls flew away to go play with the new weapons he gave them and Cassandra managed to convince him to make you a dagger.

Alcina escorted Karl to the front door, not trusting him to wander off to find the girls and throw more sharp objects around the castle.

"So, she really did tame the beast, huh?" He says with only a hit of antagonization.

Alcina rolls her eyes at him and he laughs.

"She seems like a good kid."

"She's wonderful."

"Nervous about the meeting with Miranda?"

Alcina sighs.

"Nervous doesn't begin to cover it."

"Donna said she has your back, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, then I got the kids back."

Alcina stops and stares down at him. They've hated each others guts since the moment Karl was given the cadou and really only got along for Miranda's sake and because both of them hate her more than they hate each other. But over the last couple of decades their mutual hatred for Miranda caused them to have more of a older/younger sibling relationship and the hate between the two of them faded. Not all the way, but more than either of them ever would have thought possible.

"Thank you." Alcina says.

"This doesn't mean we're fucking buddies or anything. But I know if anything happens to that kid, you're gonna be a fucking mess. And we need you to keep your shit together because we need you to take down Miranda." He looks up at her and she nods at him. "Plus, I like her and I know Miranda wants her for something and whatever it is, it ain't gonna be good."

"Thank you, Karl."

"Yeah, yeah. You owe me for this."

"Invoice me." She says as she walks away.

Alcina finds you in the sitting room again, now decorated with the crater in the wall from Karl's body, as you continue your book.

"There you are." She says with a smile.

"Here I am!"

Alcina plucks the book from your hand and puts it down on the table next to you. Before you can protest she lifts you into her arms and pulls you in for a tight hug. You wrap your arms around her neck and she sits down on the couch.

"You okay?" You ask.

"Yes, I just needed you close."

You nuzzle into her neck and she hums in response.

"So he was interesting." You say.

"He certainly is something. He didn't lay a finger on you, did he?"

"No, each time he went to touch my face you stopped him. I think he was doing it just to piss you off, honestly."

"I don't doubt that for a moment. He's such a child."

"Does he control metal or something?"

"Yes, he controls the magnetic fields therefore able to control all metals."

"That explains a lot."

"You mean why knives were being throws across my foyer? Yes. It certainly does."

"That scared me. I forgot you have that healing power for a minute and watching you pull that knife out of your leg almost made my heart stop."

"It's nothing to fret over, draga. It'll take much more than your average kitchen knife to do any real damage to me."

"Good." You say as you nuzzle into her again.

"I'm sorry for not being completely honest with you. I know we agreed to rebuild our relationship on trust and honestly, but I was so worried that all of that new information would be too much for you to handle all at once. I know I'm on thin ice, I hope I didn't lose your trust again."

"I do wish you told me, but I understand why you didn't. And I think you're right, I think it would have been too much for me to process all at once. I wish I learned it from you and not him, but that's not your fault. I still trust you Alcina. You aren't on as thin of ice as you think you are."

"I deserve to be."

"You've done so much to regain my trust." You say as you sit up and look her in the eyes. "You've been listening to me, taking things slow, being honest. You've apologized more times than I can count. You don't deserve to be on thin ice. I forgive you, Alcina."

"I don't deserve your forgiveness."

She looks away from you and you bring your hands to her face and guide her back to look into your eyes.

"Hey, stop that. Yes you do."

"I don't understand how you can forgive me after I've committed such atrocities."

"Because I love you. And because I understand why you did what you did. I think you definitely went about it the wrong way, but I get it. Even after everything you did, after learning about the other sides of you, I still love you. And if none of that deterred me from loving you, I don't think anything will. You have to forgive yourself, Alcina."

"I don't know if I can." She says, looking down.

You bring your hand under her chin and bring her gaze back up to yours.

"Yes you can. You just have to allow yourself to do it. At least try, for me?"

"I'll try for you, iubirea mea."

Her lips meet yours and she pulls you in for a soft kiss. She kisses you a few more times and with each kiss her smile grows wider until she's peppering your face with chaste kisses. You start laughing as she turns to pin you down onto the couch and continues to leave lipstick marks all over your face and neck. By the time she releases you from her grasp you're covered in her crimson lipstick and the both of you are sporting wide smiles.

"Oh dear, it looks like I may have made a bit of a mess out of your face." She says with a laugh.

"I can only imagine, there's isn't an inch of my skin that isn't covered in your lipstick is there?"

She takes your chin between her thumb and forefinger and examines your face before placing another big kiss on your jaw.

"Now there isn't." She laughs. "Come draga, lets get you cleaned up."

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fearfulachilles · 3 months

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11. contagious.

chapter eleven to buop (nanami kento x reader jjk medical au.) .

full contents here.

summary: kento is more than happy to give you some cooking lessons. cooking lessons turn to spending more and more intimate time with kento.

warning: sexual scenes. oral (male receiving).

You were a liar. A complete liar.

In your defense, you had to message Kento about leaving your bra behind. It was new and expensive, you couldn't justify buying a new one when you can ask Kento for it back. He was kind enough to wash it for you before you returned to pick it up a few nights later.

You stand near his entry way, your fingers rubbing the soft material your bra is made out of, before you look up at Kento.

“Can I ask a really awkward question?” You ask.

Kento nods, letting you continue.

“We've had sex a few times and we haven't been using anything...” you swallow slowly. “Do you have... anything I should be aware of?”

The older man catches on quickly. You're asking if he has any sexually transmitted infections. Kento smiles warmly, wanting you to feel at ease with this topic. “No, I don't. I usually wear condoms with my past partners, but I'm clean, I got checked at my last physical recently.”

You nod, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. It's been such a rush with Kento since meeting him, there had been many heat-in-the-moment moments that you just kept forgetting to ask him for a condom. It's not like you at all. You're usually so protective with yourself.

“Good, good.” You're almost breathless with relief. “I'm on birth control, but I always make sure to use a condom. Except, well, with you.” Your cheeks feel warm at your confession.

Kento's smile stretches just a little bit more, you almost missed noticing it. “Well, I can start wearing a condom, if you want me to.”

You think back to how nice Kento's cock feels inside of you, bare and raw, feeling the curve of the strong veins sculpted on his shaft drag against your pussy walls. You adjust your stance, pressing your legs together as nonchalantly as you can.

You quickly shake your head. “No—I mean, like, I don't mind if we don't use one.”

You try not to focus on Kento' wording, not wanting to read too much into it, or overthink like you always do. I can start wearing a condom. He can start. So, he wants to keep this fling going. You find yourself wanting to continue it too, as long as that's what it stays: a fling.

Kento's warm hand finds the side of your face, cupping your jaw, his thumb running across your cheek softly. He pulls you up to meet him and presses his lips to yours. His kiss started innocently enough, but it turns out that thinking about the fact that Kento fucks you raw has him growing an erection. You feel the outline of his cock growing and poking your body.

Your soft hand cups the shape of his dick through his pants, your palm rubs against his length, causing Kento to breathe into your mouth, his jaw slowly falling open and his tongue poking out to lick your lips open.

His tongue finds its place in your mouth, pressing against yours to taste you. You moan into his mouth, and Kento takes it as a sign to keep it going. His large hands find your hips, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of your bottoms.

“I have an overnight shift at the hospital,” Kento mumbles on your skin, his lips tracing your jaw. His hands nudge your bottoms past the curve of your ass. “I have to leave soon.”

You hum, lazily nodding your head. Your eyes flutter close when you feel his teeth bite down on the side of your neck. “Let's make it quick then. You have hearts to fix.”

Kento chuckles deeply, the sound is so nice to hear.

Before long, Kento has you bent over on his kitchen island, your bra pulled down to your middle, breasts pressed against the cold marble counter. His cock is swallowed by your warm pussy repeatedly, glistening with your arousal, his hot skin meeting yours. You feel the curve of his dick reach deep within you, his bare cockhead brushing against your sweet spot with. Your mouth is hung open with pleasurable sighs falling out.

You briefly think back to what you told your roommates.

“...it was the last time.” “...it was just a fling. He knows it, I know it, it's done.”

You're such a liar.

_________

You place your bottoms back on, adjusting your shirt afterwards, and putting on your shoes lastly. You lean against the counter Kento just fucked you on, standing across from the stove in the kitchen. It has a couple of pans on the burners, they're clean and empty, and they look expensive.

“Do you cook a lot?” You ask him, shifting your weight to one leg.

Kento nods, adjusting his pants back on himself. “Yes. Well, not so much anymore until recently.”

“Are you any good?”

“I can cook you dinner and you can decide for yourself.”

Very smooth. Your cheeks tint at his subtle date invitation and you have to bite back a smile. You ignore how your heart skipped at his words, choosing to believe it was the nervousness of imaging a date with Kento and not how much you would like a date with him.

“What if you show me how instead.” You suggests, your eyes finding a nice view on Kento's floor and away from his stare.

“You don't know how to cook?” Kento's words aren't meant to be shaming, he says it as nicely as he could have.

You pout slightly, rolling your eyes. “Apparently my cooking stunts growth and makes people sick for days.”

The memory of Choso's pale face after finishing your freshly cooked stew that you made for yourself pops in your head. You remember how he had to cancel on you for a couple of days afterwards, believing he was studying for med school. No, apparently he was dying from your cooking.

You don't want to think about Choso right now. If you think about him too long, you'll think about what Yuji told you, that Choso was in love with you. You shake your head, removing yourself from that mindset.

Kento softly laughs at what you say. “That's no good. I'd be happy to help you.”

_________

Over the course of the following weeks, Kento learns just how clumsy and forgetful you are in the kitchen.

At work, you're agile and initiative, you type swiftly without making typos, you're on top of the patient's lab results in case Kento or the other physicians you work with need to be reminded of it; if the doctor you’re working with quizzes you on anything, you answer it correct. You think one step ahead most of the time. You like speculating the patient's plan of treatment, you assess the patient's chart and give your predications to the doctor. Most of the time, the plan of treatment is what you would have guessed.

It's obvious you take work seriously, and it's obvious you're working towards learning the most you can as a scribe before applying to medical school. It's all very admirable of you.

It's a different story when you're cooking. You’re always lost, double questioning yourself and unorganized.

You've made the simple act of boiling eggs into a near death experience when the eggs exploded out of the pot you placed them in (and forgot about). You've also almost burned down Kento's apartment building when you tried mixing liquor into your meal. Kento isn't how sure, but you manage burn the water you were boiling for pasta.

You never cease to amaze Kento. He enjoys how you keep him on his toes, even in the kitchen.

After many weeks, Kento knows where to start, and a few lessons weren't going to cut it, Kento was going to have to start off small and slow with you. He's a good teacher, he's patient and doesn't mind answering the same question, which you need.

Kento always manages to save the meal you were cooking every time. He'd swoop in after you make many mistakes and turn the food around. And it always ends up tasting delicious.

Eating together at Kento's home was weird at first. You were closed off and quiet as you slowly ate his delicious food. It was time spent not devouring each other, it was intimate, something you made strict boundaries not to cross with the guys you sleep with. It's not like you're friends with Kento, you're sex friends at best and you work with him, that's it.

Kento patiently waits for you to get accustomed to spending time with him that didn't involve body parts pressed against each other. If you're awkwardly silent when eating, then he doesn't pressure to make conversation.

But Kento didn't have to wait long for you to feel comfortable, you settle into the routine rather quickly. It starts feeling like the first night at that bar, charming each other with mindless conversation, but in the privacy of his nice home where you wear one of his shirts with nothing but your underwear underneath.

Your roommates remained concerned for your situation with Kento, but you reassured them that it was just cooking lessons and then you'd pointedly remind Yuji it was his fault for hiding that secret for so long.

“Maybe if you told me how bad my cooking was back in high school, I'd be a better cook now and I wouldn't need mind-blowing cooking lessons with Kento—Dr. Nanami.” You huffed, pinching Yuji's bicep.

“I thought you'd get better over time, I was wrong!” Yuji replied pleadingly, causing you to pinch his arm tighter.

It was sweet that your roommates were still concerned, but all of their concern went out the window whenever you brought over left overs for them to try. They loved Kento’s cooking, which helped soothe over their anxieties. Your roommates started asking what was in the menu when they saw yo readying to leave.

It was just cooking lessons, you tell yourself. You just happened to thank Kento for the cooking lesson by spreading your legs for him to stuff his cock inside. It was a win-win-win situation for everyone.

You start spending most of your weekends with Kento.

Half the time you're burning what you're trying to cook, and the other half is spent being distracted by the curves of each other's body against the kitchen counter.

It started innocently enough.

Kento helped you prepare a specific sauce for the food you were going to cook with him. He let you do the honors of mixing and stirring it as he walked you through the steps. During which he comes up behind you, pressing his firm body against your back, a hand landing on your lower abdomen as the other snakes down your arm until he places his hand on top of yours, helping you stir.

“Is this part of the cooking lesson?” You teasingly ask, letting Kento take control of the stirring and press your ass into Kento's body.

He hums in response, kissing your temple before moving his lips to your ear. “It can be. This has to simmer for a little while.”

It's a clear invitation.

Kento takes out the ladle he's using to stir the sauce and covers the pan with the lid, then directs his attention to you. You smile when Kento's hands grab you from your waist, turning you away from the stove and pushing you up against the island counter opposite to it.

You sigh happily into his kiss, it quickly turns into a small moan when his tongue skillfully pushes past your lips. His large hands grip your hips and lift you, sitting you on the kitchen island. Your legs reflectively open for him and he nudges his torso between them.

You had nothing but one of Kento's larger t-shirts and a pair of underwear on. His shirt is slipped off of your body in a swift motion, leaving your breasts exposed to him. His thumbs rub small circles on your nipples, causing your skin to raise.

You scoot yourself to the edge of the kitchen counter as your hand falls between your bodies, pushing his pants down with his briefs and finding his growing cock. You wraps your fingers around his girth, slowly pumping his length with your thumb swiping across the tip occasionally.

It drives Kento crazy when you do that, you've noticed it does. You've also notice how much he likes it when you bite where his jaw meets his neck, so you do it, causing him to groan softly. His shirt is thrown away, left to be forgotten on the kitchen floor.

Kento has gotten to know your body just as much as you have gotten to know his. He knows your pussy is nearly leaking just from his fingers tugging and pinching your nipples. One of his hands moves from your breasts down to your clothes cunt, pressing his fingers against the fabric and feeling your wetness seep through it.

His finger pulls your underwear to the side. You work with him, guiding his cock over to your puckering hole with the hand you were pumping him with.

Kento's cock spreads your pussy thin, your lips forming against him to take his entire length in. His cock drags out of your cunt, making you wetter with every slide of his dick. Your arms clutch around his body, nails digging into his back as your hips move on the expensive kitchen counter to meet Kento's thrusts.

The stainless steel pot rumbles with heat, the lid jittering with over-leaking liquid and making a loud cluttering noise. It goes unheard to you and Kento, the sounds of his deep moans and your whimpering gasps tune out the rest of the room.

Kento only hears you, your noises, and your sound. He tells himself that he loves how you sound now the best, when you're moaning his name. The truth is he enjoys hearing you laugh at his dumb jokes, how say his name, when you speak to his patients, just as much as he enjoys hearing you now. He enjoys your sound in every tone you've given him.

His hand reaches up to your hair, wrapping his fist in it and tugging your head up. You slowly open your eyes, your low moan quickly turning into a fearful scream.

“The pot!” You shrieked, tapping Kento's strong shoulders with your hand until he finally snapped out of his lustful haze and realized what was going on. He looks over his shoulder and sees the pot of boiling sauce lost in a cloud of smoke.

His body rips away from where your body is, leaving you to sit on the edge of the kitchen island. You cover your mouth with your hands as you watch Kento hurriedly turn off the stove, grab his oven mitts to move the spot over to a burner that wasn't on, and then clear out the built-up smokey fog, all while staying clear not to burn his naked body.

“I'm sorry,” Kento apologizes, obviously disappointed in himself. He puts his oven mitts down. “I shouldn't have distracted us while the stove was on—”

He's interrupted by a burst of your laughter.

It's loud and contagious, it makes his frown straighten up before turning into a smile, his lips slowly parting as he joins you in laughing. The situation was funny to you, almost causing a fire because Kento's cock buried inside of you made you dumb to the rest of the world.

You've had some mild sex adventures, so this was easily the funniest thing that's happened. Kento is aware of the situation, he also finds it funny. He finds it almost exciting, his previous sex life being so mundane and void of touch. Laughing with you comes naturally.

With a smile on his lips, Kento goes back to wrap his strong arms around your waist, pulling your body to the edge of his counter. You continue to giggle at what’s just happened, burying your face into his neck and melting into his arms.

“Well, the sauce is ruined.” His lips kiss your shoulder. “How about we forget the cooking lesson and just order in tonight?”

You nod, your arm snaking between your bodies until you reach his cock, half hard now after the excitement of nearly starting a fire. You stroke him slowly, kissing his neck. “Good idea.”

The messy cooking and even messier sex don't affect your work life.

Satoru had noticed how well Kento works with you; he's more talkative, he's nicer to his nurses, and he opens up a lot more with you around. Satoru chalks it up to your natural demeanor contrasting Kento's. You're both in your own shared world when you work together.

So, you start scribing for Kento on his days in the clinic regularly and you rotate between the rest of the physicians when Kento is in the operating room.

The tension between you and Kento is thick. Kento's eyes would always find you from across the exam room, sharing a look with you whenever a patient said something that was awkward, funny, and everything in between. Kento failed to keep his presence from you, always pressing up against your back to read the patient's chart, rather then looking it up on the free computer at the nurse station.

Sex wasn't affecting your work life, but it started happening during work.

It started when there was a large lull caused by last-minute canceled post-op appointments and a handful of no-show patients. Kento decides to use this time to review some of your chart notes in a communal office towards the back of the clinic, in private.

There were three communal office rooms made in the clinic for physicians to utilize during downtime like now. Kento asks you to follow him to one of these offices.

It did start with Kento going over your chart notes, a total of two before you both get distracted with the overwhelming taboo elephant in the room.

He closed the door as it was appropriate to do when discussing sensitive patient details with someone, and the office was fairly small, so your thighs pressed against each other when you sat beside him, sharing the tiny screen of your traveling laptop. His hand finds a way to your knee somewhere during the review of the second chart note, and by the end of it, his fingers press into your middle inner thigh.

You carefully set your scribing laptop to the side, exiting out of all the classified pages of chart notes as Kento kissed down your neck, his fingers inching closer to your core. Once the work is secured, you turn to meet his lips, raising off your chair to move over and straddle Kento's lap. His large hand cups the side of your face, his fingers burying themselves in your hair.

Kento has never done this at work before, he never thought he would, but he wants to now. It's nerve-wracking and exciting all at once. He's taken back when you slap his hand away when he pushes against your clothed pussy with his fingers.

He watches you as you sink down on your knees, settling between his legs. You tug his pants down to his mid-thighs, his cock springing out of his briefs, red and swollen, pre-cum already leaking for you at the tip.

You take his cock into your hand, slowly pumping him, your thumb swiping across the head. Kento sighs deeply, his body relaxing into the office chair. He knows he has to keep quiet, nurses and doctors walk past the closed office constantly.

It gets hard to keep his voice down when he feels your warm tongue press against the underside of his curved cockhead. His shaft slowly gets enveloped in your mouth, your lips massaging his shaft.

His cock hits the back of your throat and his breath gets hitched. He captures his bottom lip between his teeth. A soothing hand goes to your hair, pinning loose strands behind your ear before you place your hand over his, you make him push you further down on his length.

You want him to fuck your mouth.

Kento forces down a moan at the realization. He tangles his fingers into your soft hair and guides your movements. You breathe through your nose, dragging your tongue along his cock's shape as he slides your lips back and forth on him. Your hands grab his thighs, they're muscular and hard, tensing at the sensation of your mouth.

“That's so good,” Kento's voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper, but you're able to hear him. “You're so good.”

The tip of his dick hits the back of your throat again, you slow your movements to prevent from making a gagging noise. Kento hums, cooing you to keep quiet, his voice sounding strained. His tender words shoot straight to your pussy, feeling yourself grow wet.

His dick twitches against the flat of your tongue, you know he's about to cum down your throat. You want him to. Your lips tighten around his thick size, drool seeps out from the corner of your mouth, it makes this all messier and Kento loves it.

Kento's orgasm is stopped before he reaches it when a nurse loudly knocks on the closed office door, calling out for Dr. Nanami's attention.

You quickly pull your mouth off of Kento's cock, wiping the drool from your lips with the back of your hand. You jump into your abandoned chair, grabbing your scribing laptop and pushing yourself to the corner of the tiny office space, putting distance between you and Kento.

Meanwhile, Kento pulled his scrub pants back up, adjusting his dick and dying erection before tucking his lower half under the desk that was in the office. He lets whoever was knocking know it's okay to come in.

The nurse walks into a seemingly innocent scene of a doctor and his scribe working. She doesn't suspect anything.

“Sorry, Dr. Nanami. There is a pharmaceutical rep wanting to talk to you.” The young nurse said.

Kento's focus isn't completely back. His mind is still hazy from the feeling of your lips on his dick while at work. It was a rush, his heart was still beating. He clears his throat. “Who?”

“She said her name is Asami, she mentioned she's worked with you before. Should I send her in?”

His breath hitches in his throat, suddenly feeling like he's crashing down from the high you gave him. Kento grunts to himself, closing his eyes for a moment before nodding at the nurse. She leaves to bring back Kento's waiting guests. When she's gone, Kento calls for you.

“I'm sorry, I—”

“Kento!” A voice chirps in before Kento can finish his words.

You look towards the direction of the feminine voice, your eyes falling on a woman that made her way into the tiny office like she knew her way around. She's beautiful. She has long black hair, it was voluminous and curled. Her lips were full and painted red, it suited her paler skin. The woman's sparkling green eyes look over to you, smiling brightly as she extends her hand. She also doesn't suspect anything.

“Hi, I haven't seen you before. Asami Haibara, pharmaceutical rep for some of the medications Dr. Nanami prescribes to his patients.” She introduces herself. Her hand is soft, her nails are nicely manicured. She carries herself so elegantly.

Wait, Haibara, like Dr. Haibara. Now that you really look at the woman, she does bare some resemblance to the OB-GYN you've worked with. She must be his sister, the one she heard was engaged to Kento before, the one who left him at the alter months ago.

You try your best to mirror Asami, smiling big and introducing yourself back. “I'm one of Dr. Nanami's scribes, a few of us were hired a couple of months ago.”

“I love that idea, scribes are the unsung heroes.” Asami is so nice, you want to like her.

Kento was being uncharacteristically quiet. Well, uncharacteristically to you. To Asami, Kento was being Kento.

He calls your name again, his voice is tender and carries your name carefully. It makes Asami look over to him with a small arch to her brow.

“Could you please excuse us? Prep the chart for the next patient I have.” Kento tells you. He's different.

You nod slowly, gripping your scribing laptop and standing from your chair. You move around Asami to exit the room. You look back over your shoulder once you left, but the door is already half way closed.

You touch your lips, thinking of how you just had Kento's cock down your throat, almost readying to cum, before his ex-fiancée showed up.

The situation really sets in when you get to the nurse station, setting your laptop down and blankly staring at the direction of the offices you just came from. You shake off the weird feeling you have. You don't care what's going on in that office right now. Really, you don't.

Nobara reminds you how much you don't care about it when she comes up to you, gluing herself to your side. She brings her voice down to a whisper. “I heard Nanami's ex-fiancée is here. Don't worry, I don't plan on being nice to her.”

It's sweet so you muster up a small smile. “You don't have to do that. I just met her, she's seems nice.”

Her eyes widen and her hand clutches your arm. “You met her?”

Your fingers ghost over your keyboard, your eyes trying to comprehend the patient chart in front of you. You give up, turning to tell Nobara how weird you're feeling, but you swallow back your words when you see Kento walking towards the nurse station you're at.

Nobara squeals quietly, rushing away from your side to join Dr. Ieiri again.

You don't look at Kento as he settles by you, leaving inches of separation between you two. He's quiet so far, he avoids glancing towards you and focuses on the computer screen at the nurse station. You avoid looking at him too.

From the corner of your eye, you see Asami's figure walking towards the exit of the clinic, her long hair bouncing with each step. She looks over her shoulder, her eyes landing on Kento first before she catches your stare on her. You keep your eyes on her until she's out of vision, then you look at Kento.

Kento is staring at you. His eyes look tired and a little darker than usual.

“I have to cancel on us tonight,” Kento announces suddenly, his words sounding like he had to push them out.

You two had plans for another cooking lesson and what happens after. You already promised your roommates some delicious left overs, so you can only imagine the disappointment Yuji is going to have now that you're not delivering what you promised. Still, you want to appear normal about it. You want Kento to know that you're casual about this and it's not weird at all.

You nod quickly, ripping your eyes away from his gaze. “Sure.”

Kento follows your eyes. He knows the situation between you two is not inclusive, but Asami showing up so suddenly put him on edge.

The rest of the work day was stale, long, and very tense.

Kento kept as much distance as he could between you two. His eyes didn't look over to share a look with you. He hardly acknowledged you. It made you feel off.

You feel this may be the end between you and Kento. All it took was his ex-fiancé showing up once, to your knowledge, and Kento was over you. You're sure this is how things will stay between you two, uncomfortable and rigid, maybe until he finally marries Asami, then he'll feel secure enough with a gold ring on his left hand to talk to you again.

Those thoughts are irritating. You try to not think about that, or anything close to that, because you don't care.

At the end of the day, you didn't expect Kento's hand to drift across yours. It grabs your attention, you look up at him. He's already placed a jacket over his scrubs, rushing to leave now that the clinic was closed.

“I'll text you soon.” Kento assures you.

You should shrug, dust it off your shoulder like it's nothing. You should act confused, ask him what he means, and then last-minute realize what he means. You should do anything that proves this isn't as big of a deal than you both feel it is.

Instead, you let your eyes finally meet Kento's again. You sigh to yourself before you nod wordlessly. His finger tips trace your knuckles for a moment more before Kento tells you he has to go. You try your best not to watch him leave.

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raspberriesandadventures · 1 year

Text

Asleep Beside Them - La Squadra Headcanons

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Sharing a Bed with Them

Risotto:

Risotto sleeps lightly. It’s an unfortunate side-effect of his job. The slightest bumps in the night will wake him up so he’s going to ask you to move as little as possible.

He’d prefer you on his chest, your comforting weight allowing him to make sure you’re safe and tide over some of his nightly paranoia.

He doesn’t shift at all and makes even less sound. If you ever wake up in the middle of the night, you’ll be tempted to check and make sure he’s still breathing.

Getting him to come to bed with you will always be a bit of a fight because he’s constantly overworked. You can normally tempt him by falling asleep on his shoulder.

His dreams are often surreal, featuring beautiful colours and morphing shapes he doesn’t understand but sometimes you’re there and he always wakes up happy then.

Formaggio:

Formaggio sleeps like a log but he never sleeps deeply enough for nothing to wake him – sounds or unusual movements from you will draw him into alertness.

He likes to have you wrapped in his arms at all times and he insists on being the big spoon as long as you’re happy with that. Good luck leaving this spot.

He doesn’t move very much but he does speak in his sleep, often senseless mumbling, but rarely he’ll confess to eating your snacks.

You will have no problems getting Formaggio into bed. He’ll gladly curl up with you even if he’s meant to be working (although obviously not on the job).

He has mostly fun dreams, intermitted with brief and startling nightmares. He’ll always be grateful if you wake him up from either, you’re much better than a dream.

Illuso:

Illuso only ever sleeps in the mirror realm where he knows he’s safe and, when here, there is no force on heaven or earth that can wake him up.

He’s not particularly affectionate when he sleeps and prefers to be only loosely in contact with you. Knowing you’re in the same bed is enough of a contact.

He’s a very deep sleeper but he moves a surprising amount, tossing and turning and often stealing the blanket from you. He will call you a liar every time you tell him this.

Sometimes it’s difficult to get Illuso to come and sleep but often, it’s almost shockingly easy to convince him to disappear into the mirror realm.

Illuso doesn’t remember his dreams very often but he always knows when they involved you because those days, he’ll wake up blissful and content.

Prosciutto:

Prosciutto takes some time to fall asleep but, when he does, he looks gentler than you could imagine. It’s sweet and also why he never sleeps near the others.

He appreciates sleeping back-to-back, knowing that he’s watching your weakest point and that you have his. Even if you wouldn’t be the best defense, he trusts you.

He infrequently shuffles around and almost never speaks unless you make sounds in which he will tell you to be quiet though he never remembers saying this.

It’s painful to try and convince Prosciutto to come and rest. He has a list of requirements before he sleeps and will not lighten up on any of them.

Though he wouldn’t say it, his dreams are very romantic and often feature you, wrapped in a golden haze and nothing less than happy.

Pesci:

Pesci is a fairly light sleeper and he wakes up rather like a zombie, scaring you the first few times he sits up out of nowhere and begins moving.

He likes having you wrapped in his arms with your head tucked close to his chest because he truly feels as though you trust him to look after you.

He speaks all the time in his sleep and it’s frequently very clear with anything ranging from declarations of love to strangely detailed job plans being explained to you.

Some nights he’ll come to bed with you easily but he’ll frequently find himself wrapped up and need to be offered cuddles. Sometimes he holds out on you for this.

Pesci’s dreams are chaotic and often feature Prosciutto and the others prominently which has resulted in some awkward situations when you’re there too.

Melone:

Melone leans on the heavier side of sleeping when he gets around to finding the time to rest. That by itself is a pretty rare occasion.

When he sleeps, he really likes to face you while he falls asleep so if his mind is racing too fast, he can see your peaceful expressions.

He doesn’t speak often while resting but he moves a lot. At the worst, he sleepwalks and at the best, he tosses and turns constantly through the night.

Melone doesn’t think of sleeping as important but if you remind him and ask nicely enough, he’s not going to protest in the slightest.

His dreams are quite vivid but they’re strange and often more self-focused. Sometimes though, he’ll turn around and see you and you’ll warm everything.

Ghiaccio:

Ghiaccio sleeps the most out of all members of La Squadra. He goes to bed the earliest and wakes up the last if nothing interrupts him.

He switches between which positions he favours but he really likes having one of his arms beneath your pillow. Your weight comforts him without being overwhelming.

He is a loud sleeper and if he isn’t snoring, he’s likely speaking. His rants don’t stop in sleep and if you listen, they’re surprisingly coherent.

You can’t convince Ghiaccio to take naps with you unless a job has left him too exhausted to protest. He likes his schedule.

He really doesn’t remember his dreams very well but when you’re there, it’s one of the few times when he remains quiet throughout his sleep.

Sorbet:

Sorbet sleeps deeply every night. He speaks highly of maintaining a constant sleep cycle and encourages everybody around him to try it.

He doesn’t like too much contact while sleeping and the most he’ll give you is a single tangled leg. If you’re an octopus in your sleep though, he won’t mind much.

He makes some strange noises when he’s asleep and the first time you hear them, they will absolutely give you a fright.

You can convince him to nap with you with ease. All it requires is a soft inquiry or a small yawn and he’ll join you on the bed without complaint.

Sorbet remembers all of his dreams in scary detail and he doesn’t frequently enjoy them, abstract as they are, but he always tells you about them if you ask.

Gelato:

Gelato doesn’t sleep for long periods of time, often sustaining himself entirely on short naps, but he’s sometimes willing to sleep at your side if you ask.

He entangles himself with you and wraps his arms and legs around you rather like an octopus, often burying his face into your neck before sleeping.

He doesn’t move much or make any noise but, even when he’s tangled with you, he’s likely not actually asleep. If he does though, he hums softly like he’s serenading you.

If you try and ask him to sleep with you, he’ll encourage you to seek out Sorbet instead unless you really insist. He’s not really able to say no to you.

When Gelato does dream, nightmares chase him almost constantly and he often wakes up in a cold sweat but being with you can sooth him.

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wackus-bonkus-maximus · 4 months

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Same anon who just asked about why you placed Adrien as a 7 instead of a 2, only to look deeper in the reblogs of your ML enneagram post and see you already answered it haha!

In friendly defense of 2!Adrien, I’d argue that his reactions to being stressed coming off as more of a 7 rather than a 2 is actually a perfect reflection of the effects of his abuse; it’s fear that drives his non-confrontation tendencies rather his own nature. I think Risk highlighted that a bit in revealing how Adrien does desire confrontation, even if he doesn’t act on it.

(I have always found it interesting to consider the role that trauma/neurodivergency plays in shaping a character’s personality, since it’s one of the flaws I feel most personality assessments can’t really account for.)

I also think Chat’s arguments with LB were more like to be confrontational than avoidant (thinking of the times he’s called her out and his romantic pursuit being the primary indicators), up until she became the Guardian. So then with S4, I’d consider it to be a gradual relationship shift that leads to Chat no longer feeling safe and secure enough in his position to confront her the way he once did, which is why he only tries a bit in Kuro Neko before running, and then doesn’t try at all in Strikeback.

I hope this doesn’t come off as too preachy or anything, just wanted to share my 2¢! Cause either way you slice it, your Adrien has always been brilliantly written and incredibly in-character to me, so you’ve clearly got a rock solid understanding of his character. ❤️

hello november anon and sorry for the delay! thank you so much for the ask and also for going back and looking through my prev posts. you know my teacher heart loves it when you do the readings! 😌 also you're definitely not the only one who believes adrien is a 2 rather than a 7! and while i know there are good arguments for both sides, i'll explain in depth my position on adrien's personality.

part 1 of the ask:

so here are the reasons i think adrien IS an enneagram type 7

adrien's motivation seems like that of a 7 to me: he wants to experience everything and be satisfied in every way he can. if he had a disney princess "i want" song, it would be "i want to go to school, i want to make friends, i want adventure in the great wide somewhere., i want to have fun."

the literal first shot of him in the show (if we use origins as a starting point) is adrien running away. nathalie asks him to please reconsider, he knows what his father wants, and adrien says, "but this is what i want to do." according to the enneagram institute, "sevens do not see themselves as the center of a community or family, but as members of a free-floating band of fellow adventurers whose own enjoyment is enhanced by being with others." going to school and having a new experience with new people is what's going to enhance adrien's enjoyment of life - not being the center of his family unit or the apple of his father's eye.

a 2's motivation would be to be as loved as possible and to make themselves neeed by those they most care about. while adrien definitely shows a desire to be loved and needed, especially by ladybug, i think his primary desire is for experience, and it's this from which all his actions- not just characteristics - are based. take for example his reaction to getting his miraculous vs marinette's (also in origins):

adrien is excited and intrigued and ready to go, as a 7 would be when offered a new experience - and a new way to satisfy their desire to try everything. marinette, as a 1, is quite the opposite: she is being put in a situation where she must do something right or fail, and therefore is stressed tf out. while marinette's motivation to be good/perfect fuels her anxious reaction, adrien's motivation to experience everything and be satisfied fuels his thrilled and slightly reckless reaction. that's why he charges out into battle without listening to all the instructions; his motivation was to escape the restraints of his life and try something new.

in growth, enneagram 7's take on the positive traits of 5's. in stress, they take on the negative traits of 1's. i have seen adrien exhibit these behaviors throughout the show on many occasions!

according to the enneagram institute, "Sevens have fear about their inner world. There are feelings of pain, loss, deprivation, and general anxiety that Sevens would like to stay clear of as much as possible. To cope with these feelings, Sevens keep their minds occupied with exciting possibilities and options— as long as they have something stimulating to anticipate, Sevens feel that they can distract themselves from their fears." therefore, while one can argue that adrien's wealth of knowledge and fun facts is a result of everything gabriel has forced him to learn (mandarin, piano, fencing, medieval horse colors), we can assume he at least was interested in it - and that seeking new knowledge like a 5 kept him from lingering in his sadness.

"i'll help you learn mandarin marinette" "i'll show you how to fence marinette" "most people think henry iv's white horse was white my lady" "do you need subtitles my lady i speak several languages"

now as to how adrien moves to the low parts of type 1 during the show: i think the main examples of this are the instances he adopts rigid, critical, and judgemental characteristics, which is potentially unpleasant for anyone who has to be around him.

first up, adrien's akumatized forms: chat blanc, ephemeral, celesticat

i bring up the akumas because, though adrien isn't in his right mind (by hawkmoth's akumas), they are examples of adrien being in extreme stress.

as chat blanc, adrien wants to either right the world or destroy it for being wrong - the critical supreme judgement an unhealthy 1 is capable of. he lashes out when contradicted, and is quite ruthless even to marinette, who he loves, in the name of executing judgement.

as ephemeral, adrien seeks to control time. (however, this is probably the weakest example because adrien was being amok-controlled in this instance and was acting on shadow moth's will, not his own.)

i include celesticat because while this is an example of a "good" akumatization, adrien was still under so much stress that an akumatization was able to take place. yet even while being in "good" stress, adrien still shows characteristics of 1: perfectionism, righteousness, taking control of the situation. he literally turns into a pure white angelic being, an embodiment of perfection. it's what he believes he has to do in order to salvage the situation. it's one of the more healthier moves from 7 to 1 i have seen depicted in media and is entirely plausible concept under the enneagram's theory! this just goes to show the depth and richness of his character.

next, we will discuss adrien's various alter egos:

cat walker

i've said it before and i'll say it again; cat walker is another move from 7 -> 1.

as chat noir, adrien is at the height of his 7-ness. he enjoys the freedom that his miraculous powers and secret identity gives him, and uses it as a means of escape from the regular constraints of his life and obligations. then in kuro neko when ladybug slights him, she denies him the fulfilment and satisfaction in reaching his full potential as chat noir (e.g., being of equal importance on the team as her) that he should be allowed. of course he becomes hurt and angry! she's stepping on his core desire in life.

according to enneagram coach dr. tom lahue (my favorite enneagram guy ((also a 7)), "type 7's typically deal with anger by trying to avoid it or deflect it. that really is the anger type of a 7 - deflective. deflecting things away." that's what i believe cat walker is: a stress reaction, a deflection of his anger with ladybug. he deflects his painful emotions into something he thinks is positive; a new start.

adrien is usually so joyful and optimistic, but this was a huge blow for him. dr. tom says the best way for a 7 to handle this anger is to be "real and genuine" when coming to terms with it, what does adrien do instead? he turns to a new alter ego. he chases the experience of fulfillment, only he does so by adopting a persona who is serious and perfectionist. obviously this was neither what adrien or ladybug needed, and that is because cat walker is a stress reaction who adrien cannot sustain without continued levels of unhealthy self-denial. this is the hardest he has gone to 1 in the show and what it took to snap him out of it was a level of reflection, analysis, and objectivity (that this was an unhealthy behavior) indicative of a type 5 - and which shows his progression to growth.

2. aspik

one can argue that aspik is more proof of adrien being a 2 than a 7 actually, as his motivations for becoming aspik were to woo ladybug. however, the stress response of a type 2 is to move to the negative qualities of type 8, which is to lash out at those who they believe have taken them for granted.

according to the enneagram institute,

"Average to unhealthy Twos seek validation of their worth by obeying their superego’s demands to sacrifice themselves for others. They believe they must always put others first and be loving and unselfish if they want to get love. The problem is that “putting others first” makes Twos secretly angry and resentful, feelings they work hard to repress or deny. Nevertheless, they eventually erupt in various ways, disrupting Twos’ relationships and revealing the inauthenticity of many of the average to unhealthy Two’s claims about themselves and the depth of their “love.”

as aspik, adrien was never resentful of ladybug for taking him for granted or making him feel rejected. as aspik, his goal was never to make himself needed by her. as aspik, he maintained some extreme levels of optimism that ignored the rational conclusion that he should give up for several thousand time loops. as aspik, he was able to let go and displace his hopes in himself to someone else - and run off to his responsibility as chat noir with high spirits (though i'm sure the ladrien kiss helped)

3. griffe noire

this has got to be the most stressful stress reaction i've seen on adrien. and you might say "but wackus he looks nothing like a type 1" and i say "JUST HOLD ON

going back to dr. tom's analysis on type 7's in anger, he says, "7's typically express their anger indirectly, e.g., through sarcasm, like 5's - like 6's sometimes... but they quickly try to move on and reframe into a more positive way." griffe noire, rather than telling jokes and puns to lighten the mood, mocks and ridicules poor toxinelle who has not convinced me she doesn't have a crush on him. 1's actually do the same thing when they are unhealthy; they criticize and blame and nag others for not being up to par, and by directing his anger at his situation onto toxinelle, griffe noire is doing the same.

dr tom goes on to say, "in some cases [7's] might take impulsive actions to try to free themselves from this feeling of being trapped... engaging in frenetic escapism in behaviors or addictions or substances to try to distance themselves from those who are frustrated with them... or their own anger/pain in life." we have seen griffe noire engage in multiple frenetic behaviors while running amok (haha), all of which are clearly attempts to redirect his pain and anger/ keep it from consuming him. for example, griffe noire takes chat noir's cataclysm to the chest as though it's a game. for another, he openly threatens to destroy the entire world with his super cataclysm. and of course, he is constantly abusing his miraculous by over-exerting his powers in a way only adults should. yet all of these destructive behaviors are still adrien's way of escaping his normal life, and his everyday pain. it's almost like his self-destruction is his addiction.

and yet by the end, it took the introspection of type 5 for griffe noire to realize that his behavior was unhealthy. he observed, he listened, he showed an inquisitiveness that brought him back from the brink. and he also upgraded his outfit so if that isn't a type 7 path to growth i don't know what is!

now i know i won't have convinced everybody, so i just want to drop this section from the enneagram institute's text on misidentifying 2's and 7's:

Although both types are gregarious and enjoy being with people, their interpersonal styles are noticeably different. The Two... would like to be the heart and soul of a family or community, the best friend or confidant everyone comes to for attention, advice, and approval. Twos want to be significant to others and on intimate terms with them, although sometimes they go too far, meddling too much and being too solicitous to make sure they are needed.

adrien is not focused on being needed by anybody, not even ladybug (although due to his romantic interest in her, i can understand why people think so). being the heart and soul of the team is not what motivates him; primarily, i think he just likes having all the experiences he wouldn't otherwise get to have without being chat noir.

By contrast... Sevens do not see themselves as the center of a community or family, but as members of a free-floating band of fellow adventurers whose own enjoyment is enhanced by being with others.... Sevens may thus exhibit a certain generosity, although their motives may well have less to do with helping needier friends than with making sure that they themselves have a good time by having others around.

this isn't to say that adrien is just focused on having a "good time." i see that his enjoyment is amplified when he is surrounded by people he loves and cares for. he is motivated to have good experiences, and be fulfilled by trying everything, and becoming close to people and forming loving relationships is just a happy byproduct of that.

now there ARE several caveats to my analysis which provide potential arguments against typing adrien as a 7 - and which i can touch on briefly before i close:

adrien's abuse: i understand that trauma and anxiety can affect personality deeply. i'm not qualified to speak on this, or on how it should or shouldn't affect any personality type. i can only say that i think adrien has acted pretty consistently under stress as far as the show depicts

inconsistent characterization: i think we can all agree that ml won't be winning any awards for its consistency in characterization. which i know sounds contradictory to what i just said about how it depicts adrien under stress, but i think there IS a lot of discrepancy in this show and over the course of 9 years with different teams of writers all trying to execute one person's vision, inconsistencies are bound to happen.

thank you again for the ask, anon, and thank YOU if you have read all the way through! tell me your thoughts, if you make it down here - whether you agree/disagree or are just nodding along and letting me indulge in my enneagram brainrot! this is an entirely in-good-faith interpretation of mine, and i'd love to see other opinions if you have them!

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foibles-fables · 7 months

Note

For the soft fic prompt: 28, Hawk and Thrush!

combining this one (forehead touches or nose nudging or any soft variation on the theme) with a nonny's request for 9 (shoulder kisses) and @meg-noel-art's request for 4 (neck kisses). three for one deal let's go i blacked out

EDIT: Also posted to AO3, if y'all would like to check it out there!

In every tired night’s late hours, defenses fade. They lie raveled in moonlight-dappled quiet and Aloy is all hands, all mouth, no pretense or restraint. She leaves nothing in reserve. Touches like an unfed flame offered kindling. Clings, so much lost time made up through insatiable contact—callus-drag and full-palm press, soft clothing and warm skin-scent, lips that claim and roam and claim again. It’s overwhelming in the perfect hypnotic way. Never lust so much as it is bliss. Desire as a need to be with, to meld and stir. Talanah lets herself be swept along in unfading sensation, taken whole and taken alive.

Most times it feels too delicate to address head-on. Look too closely and it’ll crumble—she’ll withdraw, stilted by the glare of exposure. Talanah knows: make no sudden moves. Don’t let these sweet moments collapse.

Tonight, though—as Aloy arches closer and her fingers fist slow in Talanah’s shirt and her mouth wanders over the sensitive plane of Talanah’s neck, along the line of her upturned shoulder—words are an unintentional impulse.

“Love when you’re like this.” Her voice is a husked sigh, a sound she hardly recognizes.

Aloy halts and pulls back, but only just—only far enough for Talanah to see her lips, how they’re parted and damp. Half-lidded eyes flicker up. Shy caution stirs beneath hazed golden-green.

“Like what?” Aloy rasps in a messy, drowsed whisper. Tension threads through her gripping hands, but she does not withdraw. She waits instead, her breath hot at the hollow of Talanah’s throat. Talanah’s heart leaps to reach it.

Through the starlit dark, bare honesty bleeds into the place where they’ve made their bed.

“Affectionate,” Talanah answers after a tentative pause. The word meets the air heavy, singular. “Physical. Makes me feel—”

Wanted? Needed? Like something Aloy would turn back for at the end of the world?

Those assertions could buckle under their own weight. With no lack of struggle, Talanah chokes them back and settles for: “Makes me—feel.”

A furrow breaks across Aloy’s brow as she tucks her face into the crook of Talanah’s neck. It hides her expression, but Talanah can see a deep crimson flush bloom across the bridge of her cheek to the tip of her ear. Still she holds firm, and Talanah returns the embrace, swallowing her trepidation.

Maybe it’ll be fine to leave things at that. Ride out the vulnerable shift in balance, adjust warily into this further-step.

To not lose her to unspoken fear would be enough.

And Talanah is about to give voice to this, too—you don’t have to say anything—when Aloy answers.

“I’m not—” A jagged pause, bitten off, as though Aloy is just as surprised at herself. She glances sidelong at Talanah and in her eyes there is a battle: push and pull. The old need for distance, the new need for its lack. “I’m not good at—uh, saying how I feel.” Each word costs effort to shape, the kind of rough scrape Talanah can feel in the tight seam of their bodies. “Guess I just—want to make sure you know anyway.”

The admission hangs like sun-scorched smoke. They are tangled close enough for Talanah to feel each quick breath Aloy draws, to feel their heartbeats reverberate chest-to-chest.

All at once Talanah realizes—she has been waiting for this.

And she is ready for it. So ready. There is a fierceness to this certainty that blazes along her backbone.

It’s time to leap.

Drowning in breathless relief, she frames Aloy’s face with tender hands. The gentle-coaxed joining of their gazes is raw and bold and wide open. Talanah leans in to kiss away the creases crimped across Aloy’s forehead, to rest her own against it. When their noses nudge together, the corners of Aloy’s mouth twitch upward.

Against that tiny crooked smile, Talanah murmurs, “Then keep showing me.”

#THANK YOU FOR THE PROMPTS #horizon forbidden west #horizon zero dawn #aloy x talanah #hawk and thrush #foibles_fables #talanah khane padish #aloy

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aurevell · 9 months

Text

Just Good Business Steter | 21k | T

Stiles comes home to find someone unexpected in his apartment. Peter might come to regret holding this specific guy hostage.

Read on AO3 (or check out the beginning below)

Stiles would like to say he senses something off about his apartment. The entrance rug with its flipped corner, maybe, or the extinguished light above the kitchen stove—he always leaves it on by accident when he leaves. The slight creak of a floorboard. An incongruous sense of presence, the sudden awareness that he isn’t alone in his own apartment.

The truth is, he doesn’t notice a thing.

He’s absolutely fucking dead, in his defense. He just wrapped up a seventy-two-hour shift, the never-ending stream of emergency calls broken only by dull waits in the ambulance depot. Some kid shattered his entire femur trying to backflip off a brick wall, and they had a hell of a time with his mom’s wailing on the ride to the hospital. After that, Stiles caught a few scattered naps, but all he wants to do is shower and pass right out. Possibly crawl into bed first if he can manage it.

It’s only when he locks the door behind him that a voice cuts through the silence of his apartment. “Turn around. Nice and slow.”

Stiles startles, jerking around as a figure steps from behind the shelves dividing his kitchenette from the rest of his studio. The streetlight outside casts a featureless silhouette, a man about as tall as Stiles. One arm curls up toward his chest, the other hangs loose at his side. The sleek shape of a handgun sits within it. The gun remains lowered, even as the moment stretches, but the threat is obvious all the same.

“I don’t intend to hurt you,” the person says, maybe following Stiles’s sightline. Despite the businesslike tone, an odd tension strains each word. “But you’ll make that harder if you start screaming.”

The first sluggish thought that pops into Stiles’s brain, which has been lulled into a stupor during the monotony of the trip home, is that this has to be a really stupid joke. Some kind of weird prank Scotty’s gotten up to—only he just parted ways with Scott a little while ago when their shift ended, and he looked as braindead as Stiles feels.

If it’s real, then—well, he’s heard stories like this from his dad, stories that rarely take place in a town like Beacon Hills. Home intrusions can be more dangerous crimes than most.

Which sounds fucking tiring. Stiles is genuinely too exhausted to be terrified of this asshole, who doesn’t even have the decency to catch him when he’s at least had a recent coffee. He thinks wistfully of his bed, and how close he is to getting into it, and has the fleeting thought that he should just shoulder past this prick and collapse into the sheets like he hasn’t heard a thing.

Sure, this might as well happen tonight, Stiles thinks with resignation. “Yeah, sounds like a line, dude,” he counters aloud.

“I’m just looking for cooperation. You help me, we both walk away.”

There’s that strain again, like the man is speaking through gritted teeth. Stiles takes a chance and moves one arm slowly toward the light switch, telegraphing in case the guy’s trigger-happy. Flicks it on.

Maybe that’s another reason the intruder didn’t bother to raise his gun: he didn’t need to. Peter Hale’s face is easy to recognize, handsome and half scarred. That face has been plastered across every news broadcast in Beacon County for days, maybe even across most of the state at this point.

Read the rest on AO3

#steter #steter fic #au-gust 2023 #mine

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television-overload · 4 months

Text

Done! *passes out*

White Christmas

NCIS Christmas 2023 fic

Read on AO3

Summary: For Christmas 2023, the NCIS family makes their way to Alaska to celebrate all together for the first time in years.

WC: 7,963

Rating: G

-.-.-

"Daddy, Daddy! I can see the glaciers!” Tali announced excitedly, her face pressed up against the small airplane window.

Tony DiNozzo smiled and peeked over her head of wavy brown hair to catch a glimpse of the snow-covered Alaskan wilderness below. “You remember what you learned about glaciers in school?” he prompted.

“Uh-huh! They’re like frozen rivers that move down the mountains!”

“Something like that,” Tony chuckled. “You’d better sit down and buckle up, Tals, we’ll be landing soon.”

The nine-year-old obeyed, sitting back in her seat where her legs didn’t quite touch the ground—though the way she’d been growing lately, it wouldn’t be long.

“Can I have your phone to take pictures?” Tali asked once she was properly buckled, the seatbelt tightened by her father until he deemed it sufficient.

With an exaggerated sigh, Tony fished the device out of his back pocket and handed it over. “Don’t take too many, we need to save some space for pictures of all the other cool stuff we see.”

With his daughter occupied, Tony turned his attention to the woman sitting in the aisle seat beside him.

“Hey, you doing alright?” he asked in a low voice, placing a hand on her knee.

She had been shifting uncomfortably for the last hour or so of their flight, unable to get positioned in a way that took the pressure off her back. They had broken up their journey from Paris with a day’s respite in New York City, where they were able to catch up with some of Tony’s extended family. Tali, in particular, loved seeing the sights and stuffing her face with giant slices of pizza. But still, it put a lot of strain on Ziva’s body.

“I am starting to rethink what a good idea it was to travel so extensively while pregnant,” she spoke with a grimace, rubbing her rounded belly in comforting circles.

Tony hummed in sympathy, his fingers finding her lower back and massaging there as best as he could in such a confined space. She sighed in relief, her head falling against his shoulder and her eyes drooping shut.

“In our defense, when we planned this trip, we didn’t know you’d be five months pregnant,” he said softly with a teasing lilt to his voice.

It was true. They had almost given up on the prospect of having another child, promising that if it didn’t happen before Tali turned ten, they would stop trying. But finally, after years of negative tests, they got their positive, and Tony and Ziva were overjoyed. Tali, too, was looking forward to having a sibling. The high pitched squeal she had emitted when they first broke the news proved to them that she would be the best big sister a kid could ask for, and she had slept with a copy of the ultrasound in a frame beside her bed ever since.

But when they first started planning this trip almost a year ago, they had not planned on an additional passenger in utero, which definitely complicated things a little. After Gibbs visited them in Paris for the holidays the year prior, they knew they wanted to be with family. That had been the first time they’d seen him since Ziva had finally been reunited with Tony and Tali, and there was a lot of joy to go around. Tali had taken to calling him Grampa Gibbs, and in almost no time at all, they were like two peas in a pod.

“I can’t wait to see everyone,” Ziva murmured, a small smile pulling at her lips. “I hear Jimmy is bringing his girlfriend.”

“Agent Knight,” Tony said, remembering hearing about her from McGee on their weekly phone calls. “It will be nice to finally meet her. From what I hear, she's been good for him.”

Although the shape of their makeshift family had changed a lot over the years, love was still at the heart of it, that was the only thing that mattered. It broke their hearts to hear of the loss of Breena Palmer. It wasn't fair. As much as Tony had gone through since leaving NCIS, at least the end result was a happily-ever-after with Ziva. Jimmy wasn't so lucky. But the consensus was that this Jessica Knight was a great match for Jimmy, and Victoria apparently liked her too.

After a few more minutes, a voice came over the speaker instructing passengers to take their seats for landing, and Tony pressed a kiss to Ziva’s temple.

“You hear that?” he said, his lips brushing against her hair, “Only a little bit longer, hon.”

-.-.-

“I can’t see him!” Tali screeched far too loudly for a public place, while Ziva tried to wrestle her mussed-up hair into something presentable. She stood on her tippy toes, trying to look out through the crowd at the pickup lane outside, craning her neck for any sight of him.

“Tali, hold still,” Ziva said, brushing through the tangles, “He is not here yet, we only landed a few minutes ago. Your father is still getting the luggage.”

Tali squirmed, but luckily Ziva was finishing up with her hair, so soon she would be let loose.

“What kind of car do you think he drives?” she asked excitedly.

“I don’t know, probably something with big snow tires to get through all this snow,” Ziva answered.

Just then, Tony strolled up, dragging a cart stacked high with suitcases along with him.

“He here yet?” he asked.

Ziva let out an exasperated sigh.

“You and your daughter,” she said, shaking her head. “She just asked me the same thing.”

Tony lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “What can I say? Impatience must be genetic.”

Of course, in actuality, Tony was one of the most patient people to ever walk the earth, and Tali too. But in things like this—well, it was a good thing Tali’s birthday was in the summer. If she had to wait almost a whole year to open presents, she’d probably explode.

Through the glass doors, a dark pickup truck rolled its front window down and honked twice, drawing the DiNozzo family’s attention.

“There he is!” Tali squealed triumphantly, bounding out the doors to the waiting vehicle ahead of her parents.

“Tali, wait for us!” Ziva tried, before giving up and simply following behind, weighed down by their carry-ons, brush still in hand.

By the time she and Tony stepped out into the freezing weather, Tali was already leaping into the waiting arms of their old boss with a shout of “Grampa Gibbs!” He folded her into his embrace, murmuring his own welcome to her in that conspiratorial, hushed tone that only existed between a grandfather and his granddaughter.

Bringing the luggage trolley to a halt on the curb next to the truck, Tony wiped his palms against his pants before reaching out to shake Gibbs’ hand.

“Thanks for coming to pick us up,” he said, smiling as the older man pulled him in for a one-armed hug and pat on the back.

“That’s what family’s for.” He released his former senior field agent and turned to Ziva, who had finally set down the bags she was carrying. “Ziver.”

“Hello, Gibbs,” Ziva said, beaming at this man she saw as her father as he wrapped his arms around her. While her pregnancy wasn’t noticeable to the eye under the many layers of sweaters and coats she was wearing, it was unmistakable to the touch.

Just as she expected, Gibbs placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled back, his raised eyebrow contributing to the knowing look he sent her way.

“Surprise!” Tony said, looking as proud as could be. “We would have told you on our last call, but decided to save it. What do you think?”

The answering smile was so free and easy, it just showed how much Gibbs had benefited from his new life here in Alaska.

“I’m happy for you guys,” Gibbs said, “you deserve it.”

They stood for a moment longer, just enjoying being in each other’s presence again, before the car behind them honked impatiently.

“Well, hurry up, daylight won’t last much longer,” Gibbs said, grabbing the first of their bags and tossing it into the bed of the truck. “Everyone is waiting for you back at home.”

“It’s cold,” Tali said, her cheeks already pink despite the puffy, fur lined coat and thick woolen mittens she wore.

Gibbs chuckled, handing Tony the next bag.

“Then you’d better get in before you turn into an icicle,” he said, tipping his head in the direction of the truck. With a toothy grin copied and pasted from her father, she bounded up to the open door and hoisted herself into the backseat with her mother’s help, and the two climbed into the vehicle.

-.-.-

The drive from the airport in Fairbanks to Gibbs’ place in an area known as Two Rivers took only about 30 minutes. The entire ride, Tali chattered away about the baby, and the big house out in the French countryside they were thinking of moving to. It looked like Gibbs’ lips were stuck in a permanent contented smile, and just as he had done many times for Tony and Ziva, he did what he did best: listened.

As they passed the occasional display of Christmas lights, Ziva would tap Tali’s shoulder to draw her attention, pointing out the window so she could see. Even though it was only two o’clock in the afternoon, it was already getting dark, a phenomenon that Tony did his best to explain scientifically, giving up when it became clear that he was only confusing Tali more. Gibbs couldn’t help but chuckle at his expense. Little Johnny and Morgan McGee could probably explain it better than he could, but he kept that thought to himself.

At last, they pulled into a long driveway, recently plowed to clear it of snow. As they rounded the curve, the moderately-sized cabin came into view from behind the tall evergreen trees, its warmly-lit windows and snow-covered roof a vision of a picturesque Christmas.

Tony climbed out of the cab first, promptly opening the door behind him to help his pregnant wife out of the vehicle. On the other side of the truck, Tali jumped into Gibbs’ arms with a squeal of glee, and was carefully lowered to the ground.

While they stood gathering their things, they heard the front door open with a creak and snick shut, the motion-activated porch light illuminating with a glow.

“Look who the blizzard blew in,” came the voice of Timothy McGee. Tony turned in the direction of the sound and saw his best friend standing on the porch with a huge grin on his face. McGee immediately shoved his hands in his coat pockets and trotted down the front steps, quickly crossing the short distance to the new arrivals. Not a moment passed before he was enveloping Tony in a hug, patting him on the back to convey just how good it was to see him again.

“It's so good to see you all!” McGee spoke. “How was your flight?”

Tony shared a look with Ziva, and responded. “Better for some of us than others,” he said as he wrapped an arm around Ziva’s shoulders. McGee wasted no time in greeting her with a one-armed hug of his own, careful of the bags she was carrying.

“I saw a glacier!” Tali said excitedly, her arms wrapped around her stuffed dog Kelev.

McGee crouched down so he was on her level, his mouth widened in a smile. “I bet you did. Pretty cool, huh?”

Tali nodded emphatically, and Tim stood back to his full height, walking around to the back of the pickup where Gibbs was standing.

“Come on, let’s get you guys out of this cold,” he said, lending a hand by taking one of their suitcases with him. “The snow’s supposed to pick up in the next few hours. Should be quite a sight.”

They followed behind, carrying all their luggage with them as they approached the rustic-style house. McGee pulled the suitcase he was carrying up a wooden ramp, its wheels gliding smoothly up the incline to the porch.

“Gibbs built this for Delilah,” McGee explained proudly, glancing back at Tony and Ziva. “Got the slope of it right and everything, isn’t that great?”

Tony and Ziva joined in the praise, though it surprised no one that Gibbs had done his due diligence to make everything just right for his guests. Despite the snow, it looked like he’d done the work to make his place accessible for McGee’s wheelchair-using wife, and the craftsmanship was exactly what they’d come to expect from Gibbs’ woodworking projects. It blended seamlessly into the rest of the timber exterior, almost as if it had always been there.

“They’re here!” McGee called out as he pushed the door open with his foot, hefting the bag into the entryway.

Excited shrieks and rapidly approaching footsteps precluded the arrival of little Johnny and Morgan, who energetically hopped up and down right in front of the door, preventing the others from entering.

“Hey, hey—yes, I know we’re excited to see everyone, but—Johnny—Morg—"

“If your name is McGee and you are standing within 5 feet of the door, you need to back away right now and give everyone space,” Delilah spoke in a firm, warning tone as she wheeled into the vaulted entrance hall of the cabin. “Yes, that includes you, Tim,” she added, a glint of amusement betraying the kindness she hid underneath that commanding presence. She always was more effective at getting the twins to fall in line than their father was. As ordered, the two backed up until they were standing against the wall, hardly able to hold still for all the excitement they were feeling.

“Hey!” Tony called out as he entered. “There they are! How old are you now, mini-McGees?”

“SIX!” They answered, and Johnny (after double checking that he had it right) held up six fingers to show his Uncle Tony. Their birthday had been last month, just before Thanksgiving, and they’d spent most of their birthday phone call talking with Tali about all the things they hoped to do and see on their Christmas trip. Now, at last, the time had come. It had been years since the McGees came to visit during the summer holidays, and that was far too long for the little ones to be apart.

Ziva entered next, brushing snowflakes off her coat as she wiped her boots on the welcome mat. Her smile was easy and warm, marked by the introspective awareness of what a blessing this time with family was after everything she had been through. Delilah rolled up beside her and welcomed her with a hug, taking one of her carry-on bags off her hands and setting it in her lap.

“The kids wouldn’t stop talking about seeing Tali again,” she said with fond exasperation. “I hope she’s ready to be smothered by two clingy six-year-olds with a million questions.”

Ziva chuckled and followed Delilah into the house, setting her other bag on a wooden bench in the hallway as she passed. “She has been equally looking forward to it, I’d say,” Ziva answered. “Thankfully we have not yet reached the point where she thinks she is too cool to spend time with her family, though I am certainly not looking forward to that day.”

Delilah waved her hand in disbelief. “Pssh. If any kid could skip that phase, I’m confident it’s her,” she said, shaking her head. “She only just got you back, I’m sure she realizes how fortunate she is to have two parents who love her.”

It was a surprise to Ziva every time how little it hurt to hear things like that, these days. Those years of separation and constant anxiety were now in her past, and she had finally been able to move on. Of course, anxiety wasn’t something that went away for good, but she managed much better now than she had before. And she could talk about what had happened without breaking down, which was a huge step forward. Just another thing to be grateful for.

“TALI!” two twin voices screeched, and when Ziva turned to look at Tony, he had his finger in his ear, wiggling it around as if to test his hearing. She smirked, rolling her eyes a little.

Their daughter had been enveloped by the much shorter McGee twins, just as Delilah had predicted. She could vaguely make out a slew of questions being fired at the eldest child, about their trip to New York, whether she saw any polar bears from the plane, and the stuffed dog she carried. Tali seemed to be taking it in stride, only looking a little overwhelmed at the attention as she tried to make her way further into the house. Tucking Kelev under the crook of her arm, she grabbed Johnny and Morgan’s hands with each of her own, leading them into the next room.

Yes, she would be a good big sister. Ziva smiled as she watched them go off on their own.

“I know what that sound means,” came another voice, as he peeked around the corner into the entryway.

“Hey, Jimbo!” Tony greeted. “I think they broke the sound barrier that time. Probably scared off every wild animal in a 5-mile radius.”

Jimmy Palmer grinned, his eyes crinkling behind his rounded glasses. “Well, can you blame them? I’d be right there with them if it were socially acceptable, I’m so happy you guys could make it!”

Ziva placed a hand on his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “We would not want to be anywhere else,” she said truthfully.

Glancing at each of them in turn, Palmer offered, “Can I take your coat? There’s a closet by the back door where the rest of us have ours stashed.”

Ziva sent a questioning glance back at Tony, and he shrugged and gave a tiny nod. It was times like these that their unspoken communication really came in handy.

“Thank you, Jimmy,” Ziva agreed, turning her back to him and allowing him to help her with the thick winter coat. It slipped down her shoulders, and as it did, she watched with great amusement the reactions of each of their friends the moment they noticed her rounded figure.

McGee’s jaw dropped in an awed and excited expression, and he immediately turned to look at his wife, who herself looked rather surprised and pleased.

Ziva turned expectantly to Palmer, who thus far had only seen their reactions and not what caused them.

“What are you—” he began to ask, then his eyes widened in disbelief. “What?! You guys! Finally!” He promptly pulled Ziva into a crushing hug, pulling back to look at her and then to Tony.

He knew how much this meant to his friend, after missing out on this incredible part of his daughter’s life the first time. He’d been something of a confidante to him for years, listening to him over the phone as he lamented all the things he missed as he learned how to be a father. This time, he knew, nothing could keep him from being involved every step of the way. Probably even more than Ziva would like at times, if he had to guess.

“How far along are you? Do you know what you're having?” Jimmy fired away with the questions, and Ziva couldn't help but think this is what she could have had the first time around, if she had chosen differently. A family to share this wonderful news with, and a partner by her side.

“20 weeks,” she answered with a glowing smile. “And–”

She turned to look expectantly at Tony.

“It's a boy,” he announced proudly, looking for all the world happier than he'd ever been. “We found out last week.”

Shouts of congratulations echoed the entryway, and McGee came up to shake his hand, offering him a clap on his back.

“Any thoughts on names?” Delilah asked next.

Ziva nodded, her eyes flicking in the direction of Gibbs before nervously trailing the walls and ceiling. “Actually, we have had one picked out for a while…”

Tony’s arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her close.

“Leroy Farragut DiNozzo,” he spoke in a bold voice, waving his hand in an arc in front of him for dramatic effect, which earned a host of politely repressed looks of concern by all their friends.

“Ah, jeez,” Gibbs spoke gruffly, shucking his own coat and hanging it on a nearby coat rack.

McGee, too, looked alarmed. “Oh–that's…”

But before anything else could be said, Tony doubled over laughing, and as much as Ziva tried not to, the corner of her lips quirked up involuntarily at her husband's latest antics. McGee breathed a sigh of relief.

“Okay–okay, I'm kidding, we're not naming him Leroy,” Tony said with a wheeze.

“But,” Ziva said seriously, pulling back on the reins of this conversation, “We are naming him after you, Gibbs.”

The room fell silent, the only sign that Gibbs had heard being the tightening of his jaw and the way his adam’s apple bobbed. He never was an emotional one, their boss. He felt it, but rarely did it show.

“We're calling him A.J.,” Tony began, his voice suddenly thick with emotion.

Ziva nodded. “Anthony Jethro.”

Gibbs didn't hesitate to cross the short distance to Tony and Ziva, wrapping her first into a hug, and then him.

“I'm honored,” he spoke softly, ruffling Tony’s hair before pulling back. “You give me a call when that baby’s born, I want to come meet him.”

“Copy that, boss.”

“Perhaps you can come stay with us,” Ziva said. “We are hoping to have a house outside the city by then.”

Tony's face lit up. “Now there's an idea! NCIS Christmas in France next year, mark your calendars!”

“That sounds absolutely wonderful,” Jimmy said honestly, his eyes alight with joy. “Well, hey, Victoria is in the kitchen with Jess working on some hot cocoa and cider, if you want to come say hi. If you're serious about us coming next year, she'll flip. Vic’s always wanted to see the Eiffel Tower.”

“Well, the details will need to be worked out, but we are very serious,” Ziva spoke, wrapping an arm around Tony’s waist. “And I could use a cup of hot cocoa,” she added, resting her chin on his chest and looking up at him. “Tony?”

“Let's go,” he said. Then louder, “Hey, Tali! Hot cocoa!”

“Where?!” came the answering shout.

“Kitchen. Come on!”

She came running out of the living room at full speed, then proceeded to climb Tony like a tree, whispering something in his ear.

“Yes, you can have marshmallows.”

She grinned.

-.-.-

The kitchen was rustic, but large. Palmer led the way, regaling everyone with the story of the trip he, Jess, and Victoria had taken that morning to stock up on goodies at the only grocer in town. Apparently they had taken Gibbs’ snowmobile, or “snow machine” as they called it here, as it was much faster and probably safer than trying to maneuver a larger vehicle in this terrain.

The result of their labor was all the ingredients for warm drinks, smores, and a hearty Christmas dinner, which everyone was looking forward to.

Jimmy pushed open the door to the kitchen, and inside, Agent Knight turned, a smile on her face as she continued stirring the contents of a steaming pot on the stove. Victoria paused mid-conversation where she sat perched on the counter, her face breaking into a grin at the sight of her friend Tali.

“You're here!” she said excitedly, hopping down from the counter. “Want to come help us? You can put the whipped cream on top!”

Tali looked to her father for permission, then hurried over to Victoria, smiling brightly in return. Not quite a year younger than Tali, the two got along swimmingly. Though, like the rest of their NCIS family, they hadn't spent much time together in person, they kept up via video call as often as they could. Long-distance movie nights had become a regular occurrence–whenever they could get it to work with their different time zones.

“Jess, this is Tony and Ziva,” Jimmy said, standing beside her somewhat awkwardly.

Agent Knight nodded. “Hi! I–uh, I've heard a lot about you!” she spoke, reaching out to shake each of their hands in turn. “I see congratulations are in order,” she added, nodding in Ziva’s direction.

Ziva smiled warmly. “Thank you, it is great to meet you. We've heard good things.”

“How's the cocoa coming along?” Jimmy asked, turning to check on the girls whose faces hovered over the chocolatey concoction, taking turns stirring it.

“Almost ready, Daddy!” Victoria said. She nodded to Tali who held a bag full of mini marshmallows. “Just needs a few finishing touches.”

-.-.-

The cocoa and cider was enjoyed by the entire party, as they gathered around the blazing fireplace in Gibbs’ living room. Those who knew each other enjoyed getting caught up on each other's lives, while new friendships were quickly formed between Jessica and the others.

Agent Torres, Tony learned from Palmer, had unfortunately been unable to come for Christmas, citing some unspecified holiday plans that he was being oddly tight-lipped about. Tim, however, whispered his suspicion that the younger agent may, in fact, know the whereabouts of one Eleanor Bishop, and have gone to meet up with her for the holidays. Tony and Ziva shared a knowing look.

Meanwhile, they'd heard Abby had met up with Ducky in London, spending a nice quiet Christmas with him and some of his extended family in the British Isles. It sounded lovely.

As mugs of cocoa were emptied and marshmallows eaten, the children sprawled out on the floor with an array of board games and cards and a veritable mountain of couch pillows. They got along incredibly well for the most part, which their parents were endlessly thankful for.

With them occupied, Palmer took it upon himself to show Tony and Ziva to their room, assisting them with their luggage up the slightly cramped wooden staircase.

“You'll be up here, in the room next to Jess and I,” he spoke, pushing a heavy oak door open with his shoulder. Inside was a beautiful wooden bedframe that they immediately suspected to be handmade, with a mattress topped in a colorful quilt and matching pillows.

“This is lovely,” Ziva said, surveying the comfortable accommodations.

“Tim and Delilah are downstairs next to the living room, and Gibbs is just next to the kitchen.” Jimmy set their suitcases down in the corner, turning to smile at his two friends. “Get this: Gibbs made bunk beds for the kids. He's got the attic all decked out, I'm talking string lights, shag rugs, and the works. If there's not a blanket fort up there by the end of the week, I'll be shocked.”

Ziva felt tears welling up in the corners of her eyes, courtesy of the pregnancy hormones.

“Would you ever have guessed that one day, our boss would build a dream bedroom for our kid?” Tony asked, reaching out for Ziva's hand and threading his fingers into hers.

Ziva's lip wobbled, and Tony knowingly pulled her into his embrace, rubbing a hand soothingly up and down her back.

“It is pretty incredible, isn't it?” Jimmy agreed, an understanding smile pulling at his lips. “I'll go grab Tali's bag and take it up there. You guys get settled in.”

Tony thanked him, and soon it was just the two of them left breathing in the moment, in awe of all the twists and turns their lives had taken.

-.-.-

The ridiculously early sunset combined with jet-lag meant that the DiNozzos were scarcely able to make it past 19:00. The entire group gathered once more for an easy soup dinner before going their separate ways, either putting their finishing touches on gifts for Christmas day or calling it a night and curling up under warm blankets for some much-needed rest.

“I can't believe she’s still awake,” Ziva mumbled, laying on her side with Tony spooned up behind her.

Up in the attic, loud thumps and high-pitched squealing indicated that none of the children had gone to bed like they had been told to. The last time Tony had popped in to check on them, they had been jumping around into piles of pillows and blankets, and dancing to some music playing on an old radio they'd found, with far too much energy.

His hand splayed across her belly protectively, while he nestled his face into her voluminous hair.

“She's a monster of our own creation,” he murmured back, pulling her tighter. “A night owl like me, and an early bird like you.”

Ziva hummed, too exhausted to laugh.

“If they don't knock it off soon, though, I'm telling them Santa will put coal in their stockings,” Tony added, just as another thud sounded above them.

“They're just having fun,” Ziva said, her voice so soft that she had to be moments away from falling asleep. “S’good for her.”

Tony's lips curled up in a smile. He loved the lazy droll of Ziva's voice when she was half-asleep.

“Yeah,” he agreed. Then, he pressed a kiss to her curl-covered head, and let sleep take him.

-.-.-

Tali's eyes blinked open slowly, only the light from the string lights illuminating the cozy attic hideaway. She rolled over and stretched, cuddling Kelev close before sitting up in the top bunk of the bed. Across from her, Victoria still slept soundly in her flannel pajamas. They had worn themselves out last night playing until Uncle Tim had come to scold them for staying up too late.

Tali inched herself over the edge of the bed and down the ladder, her bare feet cold on the wooden surface. It appeared the twins were still passed out too, and likely would be for a while. She was like her mother, in that way. Always early to rise, although her daddy explained that the baby made Ima sleepier now than she usually was.

As quietly as possible, she pushed open the door at the bottom of the stairs and crept down the hallway, making her way to the first floor.

The sun was still far below the horizon, the sky as dark as ink. Only a few lamps lit the living room, but the smell of bacon and freshly-brewed black coffee wafted from the kitchen, which meant she wasn't the only one awake at the crack of dawn.

She pushed open the swinging door and saw Gibbs seated at the breakfast nook, sipping from an old coffee mug as he read the newspaper.

Tali plopped down across from him at the tableclothed table, wordlessly reaching for a piece of bacon and taking a bite. She leaned her head onto her arm and watched him, her eyes still blinking heavily in the dim light.

After several minutes of comfortable silence, marked only by the flip of a newspaper page or Tali’s munching of bacon, Gibbs asked, “Wanna come help me plow the snow?” His voice was gravelly from disuse, breaking the spell of the stillness of early morning.

Tali's cheeks pulled up in a smile and she nodded, following Gibbs to put on her heavy winter boots and coat over her pajamas.

He led her out to his truck, which was fitted with a plow out front for shoveling snow. “Hop up,” he said, patting his lap once he'd taken his seat in front of the wheel. Tali grinned and climbed up.

“Can I steer?” She asked, glancing back at Grampa Gibbs.

“After I clear the driveway and the road,” he answered, chuckling a little at the young girl's enthusiasm.

He took her around the house, pushing the freshly-fallen snow to the side as they drove. The headlights caused the white-blanketed landscape to sparkle, and it looked almost otherworldly with the mountains in the distance, barely visible. As they passed it, Gibbs pointed out the barn where his dogs lived, promising to bring her there later when it was light out and when her cousins were awake.

True to his word, once he'd cleared a section of the road and the driveway that encircled his house, he let Tali have the wheel while he controlled the pedals, keeping a hand close by in case she started to veer too far one way or the other off the gravel of his driveway. She giggled all the while, focusing intently on doing her job correctly.

“Looks like your old man's awake,” Gibbs said as they pulled back up to the house, catching sight of Tony through the window. He helped Tali down from the truck, setting her in the ankle deep snow. She trudged happily toward the house behind him, stepping only in Gibbs' footsteps for the short walk to the porch.

As they opened the door, her Abba was passing by with a glass of water in hand for Ima.

“Look at you, up an at ‘em,” he said, smirking down at his daughter. “Is Grampa Gibbs putting you to work?”

Tali nodded enthusiastically. “He letted me drive!” she said, earning an impressed look from Tony.

“Well, in that case maybe you want to bring this up to Ima and give her some snuggles,” he said, handing the glass to Tali. “I'll help Grampa over here with breakfast.”

“Okay!” Tali nodded, and after kicking off her boots, she set off up the wooden staircase.

-.-.-

The occupants of the cabin slowly filtered downstairs, rubbing sleep from their eyes and attempting to smooth their sleep-mussed hair.

Little Johnny's stuck up in all directions as he padded down the steps with his sister in tow.

“Hey, buddy, you sleep well?” McGee asked, setting his cup of coffee down on the table. Johnny climbed onto his father's flannel pajama’d lap and laid his head against his chest, still half asleep.

“She snores,” he mumbled tiredly.

Tim chuckled. “Who does, bud?”

“Tali.”

McGee lifted his eyes knowingly to Tony. “Wonder where she gets that from?” he said, his tone jokingly accusing.

“Hey,” Tony said, raising his hands in surrender, “mine has been up since o' five-hundred, if he didn't sleep well, that's on him.”

“How did Ziva sleep?” Tim asked, making conversation.

“Like a very noisy rock,” Tony answered, “So, the usual.”

Tim smiled and took another sip of coffee, careful not to spill on the sleeping boy on his chest.

-.-.-

Once everyone had devoured a hearty breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and fruit salad, the sun finally began to rise on a lovely Christmas Eve day.

“What are your plans for the day?” Jimmy asked Tony and Tim. “Only a few hours of daylight, I'm sure there's plenty you want to see.”

Tony glanced over at Ziva, who was curled up on the couch with a cup of hot tea, chatting quietly with Tali.

“We were gonna go to these hot springs that are nearby, but Ziva can't go with the baby,” he said. “Chena Hot Springs. You should look it up, sounds like the perfect way to spend an hour or two before the snow starts up again.”

“You sure you don't want to go?” Tim asked, his eyebrows furrowing. “I can stay home and keep her company.”

Tony waved him off. “Nah, that's okay. We're gonna take it easy, she still gets this nauseous feeling sometimes, the doctor says just to rest and stay hydrated.”

“If you're sure…” McGee said. “It does sound really nice. Jimmy?”

“I'm in. Jess had something similar in mind, I think.”

“Daddy?”

The three men turned to see Tali standing in the doorway. She leaned close to Tony, and he instinctively bent down to listen to her.

“Grampa Gibbs said I could go see his puppies,” she whispered.

Tony leaned back to look in her eyes, and gave her a little smile.

“I think that's a great idea,” he said, “I bet Victoria and the twins would like to go too. Why don't you all go get your coats on?”

She ran off, and Tony turned back to the grown-ups.

“I can check in on them every once in a while if you guys want to go.”

McGee and Palmer shared a look, then shrugged.

“Well, I guess it's settled,” Jimmy said.

Tim nodded. “My dad always said never to look a gift horse in the mouth, whatever that means.”

Tony chuckled, pushing his two friends through the doorway. “It means it's time for you two to go get your ladies and get your butts into nature's hot tub.”

“Alright, alright,” Tim laughed. “Thanks, Tony. I owe you one.”

-.-.-

By the time the two couples had left for the hot springs and the children were bundled up for their adventure with Gibbs, Ziva had fallen asleep curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace.

Tony stopped in front of her and knelt down, setting the mug she still held on the side table. He traced a finger over her cheekbone, brushing back a stray strand of hair over her ear.

“Ziva,” he whispered, gently jostling her hand with his own.

“Hmm?”

“You wanna nap upstairs?”

Her eyes opened a crack and worked on focusing on the man in front of her.

“Where is everyone?” she asked, sitting up just a little.

“Out making the most of the daylight,” he answered with a small smile.

“I'm sorry.”

She tried to sit up again but he stopped her with a soft touch on her shoulder.

“Hey, no, it's okay. I just wanna spend time with you. When's the last time we had an afternoon to ourselves? No Tali, no baby–” he leaned forward, placing a hand on her rounded belly, eyebrows raised. “–yet.”

She smiled a sleepy smile, covering his hand with one of her own.

“We could watch a movie,” she offered, shifting her feet to make space for him beside her.

“Now you're talking,” he said, flashing that trademark grin she'd fallen in love with so many years ago.

He scooted onto the couch and pulled her to his side, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he did.

“I love you,” he spoke.

“I love you too.”

-.-.-

“It tickles!” Morgan giggled, the puppy in her arms licking her face relentlessly. Tali set down the one she was holding and picked up another from the bed of straw they had been sleeping in.

They stayed pretty warm in the barn they lived in, insulated by straw and plenty of blankets. Plus, these Alaskan huskies had more than enough thick fur to keep them comfortable through the winter. This was what they were built for, after all, and Gibbs loved looking after them.

“Sled's almost ready,” he spoke, busy tying up a series of ropes. He set the excess equipment aside on his workbench, where his woodworking tools were laid out. The fully grown team of dogs barked and jumped excitedly as they were attached individually to the sled.

Gibbs opened the large main doors of the barn, propping them open with heavy bricks before returning to the kids.

Grandkids.

He'd thought his shot at having any of those was gone with Kelly. How wrong he had been.

“Alright, hop on, all of you sit in the front.”

Morgan gave the puppy she was holding a kiss on the forehead, then set it down to join her brother and friends with Gibbs.

“Can I stand in the back with you?” Tali asked, giving him her best puppy-dog eyes.

“Fine,” he acquiesced, “you gotta hold on tight, though, you hear me?”

“Uh-huh!”

Her little hands gripped the handlebar at the back of the sled, and Gibbs stepped on behind her, grabbing ahold of the reins.

With a simple command, the dogs took off over the snow. The kids squealed with glee, the cold wind blowing in their faces as the team of dogs happily pulled them along around the house and the perimeter of Gibbs’ property.

“Go, go, go!” Johnny cheered, enjoying the ride.

They stayed out there until each of them had had a turn standing in the back with Gibbs.

-.-.-

The hot springs had been as relaxing and beautiful as advertised. And to be child-free for even a few hours during the school holidays was priceless. They really owed Gibbs and DiNozzo a favor.

When they arrived back at the house, it was suspiciously quiet. An old country western movie was playing on the TV in the living room, and both Tony and Ziva were fast asleep, curled up together under a blanket.

McGee smiled and reached for Delilah's hand, squeezing it once. He was so thankful to have Ziva back after all this time. He could only imagine how Tony felt. Every moment of peace he now enjoyed was earned a hundred fold. For both of them.

“Why don't you go check on the kids?” Delilah said quietly, careful not to wake them. Tim nodded and headed toward the stairs, while Delilah wheeled her way into the kitchen with the others.

Up in the attic, Gibbs lay on the floor beneath a ramshackle amalgamation of blankets and pillows. He'd be the last person to admit they'd worn him out between the dog sledding, snowman making, and fort building, but he wouldn't complain if they let him just lay here for a little bit longer. He hadn't taken everything with him when he moved to Alaska, but he did still have some of Kelly's old things, toys that Victoria, Tali, Johnny, and Morgan were now playing with.

“How's everyone doing up here?” Tim's voice called as he made his way up the stairs. “Woah, looks like you all had a fun afternoon.”

“We went on the dog sled!” Morgan announced loudly, her head popping out of the fort. Gibbs pushed one of the blankets aside and inched his way out.

“You good, boss?” Tim asked, an amused smile on his face.

“‘Course,” Gibbs answered with a nod, stretching his knees. “I'll get started on dinner. Steaks okay?”

“Great!” McGee answered. “I’ll come down and help in a bit.”

-.-.-

Dinner consisted of Gibbs’ signature cowboy steaks cooked over a fire. The kids regaled their parents with stories of their afternoon activities, while the adults discussed their hopes of seeing the northern lights that night.

A few hours later, they all stood bundled up on Gibbs’ back porch, disappointedly staring up at the cloudy sky.

“We'll try again tomorrow night,” McGee said, giving Johnny a consoling pat on the back. The clouds would prevent them from getting a view of the aurora tonight, but hopefully another time they would have more luck. Eventually they trudged back inside to warm up around the fire.

“Tateleh, have you set your shoes out for Père Noël?” Ziva asked.

Tali's eyes widened, and she ran off to grab a pair.

“What's she doing that for?” Victoria asked, looking up to her father.

“Père Noël is French for Father Christmas – Santa Claus,” Tony explained. “In France, he leaves presents in shoes instead of stockings."

“Can I leave my shoes out too?” Morgan asked, yanking on her dad's hand.

“Me too!” Johnny said.

“Go get them,” Delilah spoke, nodding toward the stairs. Victoria followed, excited at the prospect of getting more candy and presents from Santa Claus.

-.-.-

Somewhere, a floorboard squeaked, drawing Tali out of her peaceful sleep. When she opened her eyes, Grampa Gibbs was standing beside the bunk bed wearing a t-shirt and plaid pajama pants.

He held a finger over his lips.

“Follow me, I've got something to show ya,” he said in a whisper, bending to do the same for Morgan, then Victoria and Johnny. They each rubbed their eyes sleepily, allowing Gibbs to help them down from the bunk beds and into their slippers.

“Where are we going?” Morgan asked, her whisper not quite as soft as she was intending. They padded down the cold wooden stairs, like little ducks in a row as they followed their parents’ old boss.

“You'll see in a minute,” Gibbs promised, leading them through the living room to the back porch door.

Johnny glanced at the Christmas tree as they passed it. “Hey! Santa already came!” he said excitedly, his eyes widening at the sight of so many presents under the tree and filling their stockings and shoes.

“Plenty of time for that later,” Gibbs spoke, handing each of them their coats. “Look outside.”

Tali did, and she gasped at the sight of the sky alight with color. Stripes of green rippled across the black firmament above the Earth, like a flag waving in the wind. Surrounding it was a glittering field of stars, brighter than any Tali or the others had seen, living so close to the cities.

“The clouds cleared!” Victoria said, staring up at the sky in awe. Gibbs opened the door and let them outside, watching their faces instead of the natural wonder taking place above their heads.

“So cool,” Johnny mouthed, his jaw hanging open. “This is the best Christmas ever.”

Morgan nodded in agreement.

This was pretty special. A moment the children would never forget.

-.-.-

Morning time brought presents and the kind of holiday cheer Ziva never thought she'd be lucky enough to experience again. The kids were delighted at their gifts, giggling at their success at getting chocolates put in their shoes by Santa Claus, just as Tali said would happen.

Victoria received a star projector as one of her presents, and she and Tali were already making plans to try it out in the fort they had built upstairs. Meanwhile, Ziva gave Tony an empty baby book, knowing it would mean the world to him to fill it with pictures and memories as their new baby grew.

Snow was again falling, a picturesque sight out the large cabin windows, especially with the sun beginning to rise over the horizon. Light wisps of pink and yellow mixed with faded blue over the top of the snow-capped mountains. A crystal clear morning.

“Why don't you play for us,” Ziva whispered in Tony's ear, nodding to the piano that sat in the corner of the room, a remnant of the previous tenant, Gibbs had said.

Tony turned and looked down at her, a contented smile playing on his lips. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, holding there for a beat, then unfolded himself from the couch where they sat intertwined.

“Hey!” McGee said excitedly when he noticed where he was headed. The others looked up from their gifts and smiled in anticipation. Tali hopped to her feet and joined her Abba by the piano, her grin matching his.

“What song should I play?” he asked her. One look out the window, and she answered his question in his ear like a secret. “Good idea,” he said.

After testing the keys, making sure they were in working order, his fingers splayed across the instrument, beginning their rhythmic dance. Each chord was played beautifully, a warm sound that matched the feeling of sitting by the fire with family.

“Sing with me, Tali,” Tony said, locking eyes with his daughter as he finished up his intro. She nodded eagerly and placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning her head against him.

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,

Just like the ones I used to know.

Where the treetops glisten,

And children listen,

To hear sleigh-bells in the snow.

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,

With every Christmas card I write.

May your days be merry and bright,

And may all your Christmases,

Be white.

-.-.-

Tag list: @artemisscabin @benedettabeby @earanemith @happygirl-0408 @hopeless-nostalgiac @loudlooks @nicolem194 @putthekettleon @slippery-soapbox @tivafanfic @tonysziva

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drivinmeinsane · 6 months

Text

Give Me the Night

※ Holland March x Jackson Healy ※

{ masterlist } ※ { ao3 }

※ Summary: Like most jobs involving stakeouts, the night is going by slowly. That all takes a turn, however, when March finally pushes his fellow Nice Guy too far.

※ Rating: 18+ for explicit mature content

※ Content/Tags: Idiots in Love, Blow Jobs, Tit Jobs, Inappropriate use of a Semi-Public Space, Excessive Cum, Internalized period-typical homophobia, Emotionally Constipated Jackson Healy, Typical Idiot Holland March, Porn with Comedy AND Feelings, Collaboration

※ Word count: 7,759

※ Status: Oneshot/Complete

※ Author's Notes: This fic was written in collaboration with @danime25. We worked up the outline together and she kindly took the reins and wrote Holland's POV after our good pal Healy makes a break for it. It was wonderful working with her on this!

Yellow light filters through the windows of Holland’s car. The streetlights have been on for hours now, illuminating the sleepy street just enough to make out the shapes of shrubs and mailboxes. The two detectives inside the car are not concerned with the small details. They are looking out for the comings and goings of a man located in house number 1438. It’s a rather plain ranch style home with new porch railings.

The Nice Guys Detective Agency had been called the day prior by a woman who was concerned that her husband of three years was stepping out on her with another lady. It was the same old story that Holland March had handled his entire career as a PI. He gets a new one about once or twice a month. More over the holidays since the offending partner claims overtime at their place of employment to explain the sudden absences at home. The cases pay well enough, easy work to boot as long as the survailed party stayed none the wiser.

Holland shifts uncomfortably in his seat, drawing Healy’s attention. The bruiser eyes him with a passive curiosity. His back is stiff from being confined in the vehicle for so long, but he knows that his investigation partner must be feeling worse. Instead of breaking Holland’s left arm like he had planned, he had fractured the radius in Holland’s right. As fucked up as it sounds, he hadn’t wanted to risk damaging whatever issue the other man has going under the bandage of his left. The result was that the PI was down to limited functionality in both arms. The left is still full of stitches while the right is weighed down by a palm to elbow length cast. Still, the arm situation does not directly correlate to Holland’s current bout of bizarre behavior in any way that Healy can discern.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, March?” Healy asks, aiming for politeness. He misses by a mile.

“Excuse me? Why the fuck are you looking at me like that for?” Holland retorts with a disgusted tone.

“Because you’re acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird. You’re the one acting weird.” Holland’s voice is shrill, and a bit defensive.

“I’m not the one squirming around like I gotta take a piss.”

“Fine! You really want to know?”

“No, March,” he throws up his hands, “I asked because I don’t want to know.” His tone is sarcastic.

“Well… it’s been a while since you broke my fucking arm .” He flings the affected limb in a sweeping gesture for dramatic effect, narrowly missing Healy.

“I said I was sorry.”

Holland scoffs and pulls a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket along with his lighter. “Well, your apologies are worth shit to me when I can’t crank one out in the bathroom.”

The look on Healy’s face is incredulous. “Seriously? That’s it, asshole?”

“What the fuck do you mean ‘that’s it’?” He places a cigarette between his lips and lights it, letting it rest loosely in his mouth.

Healy is almost upset enough to snag the cigarette right out of the other man’s mouth. He has no reason to be this bothered by their conversation. His skin feels too warm, the collar of his shirt too tight.

“What the fuck do you want me to do about it? You want me to give you a little handy between partners?”

“Well, for starters, don’t look at my crotch like you enjoy it,” Holland snarls back, using his more functional hand to block Healy’s view. “I just need something to get myself off with.”

A light turns on in the house closest to them. The porch light follows shortly after. Their shouting must have been loud enough to wake the occupant. The last thing they need is the actual police getting called and thrust into their business.

“Shut up and stop thinking with your dick. We’re on a job,” Jackson responds, irate.

Turning the key in the ignition, Holland starts the car and floors it. They pelt out of the neighborhood in an obnoxious screech of tires on pavement. If their yelling hadn’t woken the entire block, Holland’s maneuver certainly finished the job. He pulls into an empty lot. The only source of light is the vehicle’s headlights.

“Real subtle,” he mutters under his breath, still ruffled.

The other man hits the steering wheel with the palms of both hands. He lets out a gasp at jostling his injured arms unnecessarily. He turns on the man seated beside him once he shakes off the pain. “Great, we’ve lost at least three days on that lead thanks to you.”

“‘Thanks to me’,” Healy repeats, “Do you even hear yourself sometimes?”

He fumbles for the door handle and gets out of the car. He slams the door hard enough to rattle the entire machine. The bruiser needs a moment to cool down or he will do something that they will both regret. He is almost shaking. From what? He doesn’t know exactly.

Holland doesn’t leave well enough alone and exits the car in pursuit of his partner. He stops with the door ajar and his hand on the roof. “Yeah, I do hear myself. I have a pretty voice, thank you very much.”

The shorter man shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and walks further away from the Benz. He forces himself to accept the PI’s words with equanimity. He’s struggling with it. Does the other man ever stop running his mouth?

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Holland slams the door, shutting his blazer in it without realizing. He tries to set off after him, but comes to an abrupt halt when he gets yanked back by the caught jacket. He struggles out of it, leaving it hanging sadly in the door and gets up in Healy’s face.

“See that? You just cost me my favorite jacket and for what?”

“Get out of my face, March,” Jack says calmly, too calmly. His tone is a warning of an imminent punch to the face if the detective doesn’t comply. He puts a hand on the other man’s chest, cautioning him.

“Or what?” Holland sneers, “You gonna kiss me?”

Healy doesn’t say anything, He drops his hand from Holland’s chest and takes a step back, turns partially away. Nausea rolls through his stomach.

“Hey, hey, Jack, I was just kidding.” Holland sounds a little softer.

He waves a dismissive hand with forced casualness and starts walking back to the car. “Let’s get back to work. Don’t want to waste the time here.”

The detective purses his lips and follows after him only to stop a few feet away from the vehicle. He has a calculating look on his face. It’s the kind of look Holland gets when he is about to make a decision that is going to make whatever partner of his want to tear their hair out. Healy opens his mouth to ask him what he is about to do right as Holland throws the keys. All he can do is watch in speechless horror as they go sailing into the darkness and clatter noisily somewhere onto the ground. He’s damn near blind during the day with his reading glasses on, much less at night without any aid whatsoever.

“What the fuck , March?” He growls once the initial shock has worn off.

Holland gestures at him, equally upset. “Enough of this. Just say you want to fuck me or something.”

The nauseous feeling grows more prominent. It feels like his stomach acid is trying to crawl up his throat. Why the hell was his partner doing this? Healy had tried hard to be normal around the other man. He had not let his eyes wander because that was the kind of shit that got your ass beat in an alley.

“Yeah?” He lets out an unconvincing laugh, “What makes you think I wanna fuck you?”

“I mean, look at you,” the PI scoffs despite having to adjust himself so his erection isn't so obviously tenting the material of his white slacks.

“Me? You’re the one panting over there like a dog. You can’t control yourself, March.”

That spurns Holland into crowding against him. Healy holds his ground, he’s not going to be bullied around by his partner. The other man leans down to speak, but he misjudges the distance in the dark and his lips brush against Jackson’s mouth. They recoil from each other like gunshots had been fired in their direction.

“I knew you wanted to fuck me,” Holland says, laying the blame for his own error onto Healy. He makes a show of looking him up and down.

Impulsively, he grabs the collar of Holland’s shirt. He twists his broad hand into the expensive fabric and jerks the taller man forward until they’re nose to nose. “I never said anything about wanting to fuck you. Sounds like you’re making excuses to fuck me.”

“As if,” is the response he gets, but Jackson does not miss the considering way March eyes his mouth. The detective adjusts the angle of his head, aligning their mouths, mere millimeters between them.

At the feeling of Holland’s mustache brushing over his upper lip, Healy makes a small sound. A whine? A moan? He panics, and his fist swings up without his permission and collides solidly with the face of the man coming onto him. His hand slips off the other man’s shirt, and Holland takes a few staggering steps backwards.

“What the fuck?” March whimpers and looks up at Healy, “The hell was that for?”

Healy refuses to look at him and instead starts fruitlessly scanning the ground. “Shut up and help me look for the keys.”

He hears the other man rub his face with a groan. The bruiser knows his partner has a good chance of sporting a black eye tomorrow. This entire night is turning into a nightmare. He has not felt this unsteady since Joanne had admitted that she was fucking his father. The scuffle of shoes on the ground is the only warning he gets before Holland grabs ahold of him. Before he can protest, the taller man kisses him. It’s an awkward clash of mouths, too much teeth, but Holland is making up for it by sheer enthusiasm.

Healy stiffens, but then he is grasping desperately onto the PI. He kisses him back like a man lost in the desert who has just been given a glass of water. He chases after the other man when he pulls back for air, capturing his mouth once again. His hand rests heavily on the nape of March’s neck, worked in the short hair. They shouldn’t be doing this. They’re old enough to damn well know better than to do this.

That line of questioning does not stop him from wedging a thigh between Holland’s legs, rubbing it against the taller man’s clothed erection in the process. His partner catches on quickly and chases the friction. Healy wraps a hand around March’s narrow hip, encouraging him further until the detective is all but humping his leg like a dog in heat. They’re panting into each other’s open mouths, eyes closed.

Holland moans out a soft little, “Fuck.”. He sounds almost as though he is begging for more, even as his hands grab desperately at the back of Healy’s jacket.

“Yeah, you would like that, March,” he mutters against the side of the PI’s neck. He slides the hand cupping the back of Holland’s neck to his front and works at pulling the other man’s shirt free from his pants. Healy almost feels drunk despite turning down his partner’s offered flask more than once during the stakeout. A shiver courses through him when he feels Holland start to return his interest by putting his hand underneath his jacket, not seeking bare skin yet, but the heat of his touch through the tropical patterned shirt is enough to get Jackson to grind his own hard dick against his partner’s hip.

He feels the wet pressure of Holland’s lips connecting with his cheek and has to swallow. This is more intimate than he had ever dared to imagine in the most repressed corners of his mind. Maybe Holland had bashed him over the head in the car with his cast and this was all some kind of fucked up wet dream. The twitch of the other man’s cock against him feels real enough though.

“Whaddaya want, huh?” Jack dares to ask.

“I want…” Holland trails off, clearly contemplating, but instead of coming up with a response, he shoves his face against Healy’s shoulder. All traces of his bravado are gone.

“You’re never this quiet, March,” he grumbles. He drags his thick fingers down the detective’s stomach to right above his belt. “If I knew this was all it took to get you to shut up… Look, do you want me to give you a handjob or what?”

“No, I want,” Holland makes a gesture with his hands that suggests he’s cupping a pair of invisible breasts, “you know, that .”

The look Healy gives him is flabbergasted. “March, you… you know I’m not a woman, right?”

“Yeah, I fucking know that.” Holland looks down at where he and Healy are pressed together like a pair of randy teenagers, “I’m not a fucking idiot.”

Shaking his head, he opens his mouth to say something in response to him, but just shakes his head instead. There’s no use in arguing with him. Healy knows that the other man is a fucking idiot sometimes and that knowledge is enough for him right now. He decides to humor March and strips off his jacket and tosses it onto the ground behind him. He makes short work of the buttons on his shirt and leaves it hanging open to reveal the white wifebeater he wears as an undershirt. Jack fights the instinctive urge to cover himself, knowing that his body is not in as good of shape as his companion’s.

“We’re actually doing this?” Holland asks despite already beginning to work his belt off with the hand not encased in a cast. He’s doing such a poor job of it that it prompts Healy to swat his hand away and undo it for him.

“Whatever ‘this’ is,” he says with a shrug of his good shoulder. He pulls the detective’s belt free of the loops and tosses it in the vague direction of where he threw his jacket just moments before. They’ll have a considerable scavenger hunt on their hands at the end of this.

Holland undoes the zipper on his dress pants and unceremoniously pulls his dick out. “Okay, I’ve never done this before.”

Healy watches as March closes his eyes in preparation. For what? He doesn’t have the faintest damn clue. “Why fuck are you closing your eyes. This isn’t jumping off the diving board,” he says incredulously.

“ Jesus! Just shut up,” Holland snaps back, opening his eyes reproachfully. He puts a hand on Healy’s shoulder and tries to encourage him onto his knees. Jack doesn’t budge. “Just… let me use your chest.”

“For what?” He grumbles. He decides to humor Holland’s cues and lowers himself to the ground. A rock digs uncomfortably into his shin and he mutters a complaint under his breath, shifting his leg into a spot with less gravel. He tries to tune out how hard his dick is in his own pants. The kneeling position has pulled the fabric taut over his crotch, and he has to suppress a groan that’s more arousal than discomfort over this indignity. This is right up near the top of the most asinine things his partner has asked him to do since they met about a month ago. He’s gone along with the other man this far though, and he might as well continue.

Holland moves to get onto his knees, but he pulls up short of actually doing it. “This isn’t going to work, let’s go to my car,” he says, offering a hand to Healy and helping him to his feet without bothering to tuck his dick back into his pants.

“You have to be fucking with me,” he protests but follows the taller man back to the car all the same. He hovers awkwardly next to the rear tire on the passenger side. He’s really starting to be on the verge of regretting this. Holland has to be playing some kind of joke on him. His hands hover over the buttons of his open shirt and he’s about to start doing it up when March pats the top of the trunk.

“Come on,” he says encouragingly. The PI sheds his own over-shirt, stripped down to his undone pants and sleeveless undershirt.

He instantly follows Holland’s lead and lets his own touristy shirt fall from his shoulders and onto the ground. This entire vacant lot is going to look like some type of crime scene by the end of night. He heaves himself onto the trunk, heels briefly making contact with the tire. He’s perched on the edge, tense as though he’s ready to fight. Jack is not given much time to work himself into abandoning this whole ordeal because Holland steps up into his space, forcing a home for himself between his legs. Desperation and arousal is written all over the taller man’s face. Either Holland is a surprisingly good actor or he’s actually not yanking Healy’s chain.

The detective puts his full weight into the kiss. Healy’s breath hitches when March’s tongue swipes over his bottom lip. He feels the other man grin in response to his reaction. It’s all Jackson can do to put a calloused hand on the back of his partner’s neck and hold him close. Holland’s facial hair is surprisingly soft against Healy’s stubbled face.

“Fuck,” Holland says softly and drags his pants over the curve of his ass, down far enough to be able to kick them off before crawling onto the car.

The bruiser lays back across the trunk, the metal is cold against his skin, but Holland is blazingly warm against his stomach as he gets into position on top of him. He takes the hem of Healy’s shirt in his hands and encourages it up and over his head to get discarded somewhere on the ground by the driver’s side of the car. Holland shifts so he’s properly straddling him, knees bracketing his sides. The detective’s cock rests in the divot between Healy’s pecs.

“The fuck you doing, March?” It comes out as a near whisper in the darkness.

“What I wanted,” Holland says and spits, slicking the space where his dick rests just enough that it glides smoothly on the first few thrusts as he begins to rub himself off using Healy’s chest.

Suddenly, Holland’s comments about using his chest to get off are crystal clear. Taking a deep breath, Healy pushes his elbows against either side of his chest, forming a tighter passage for his partner to fuck against. It was like something he’d seen women do in pornos sometimes. His chest is quickly made slick by the copious amounts of precum leaking from the man on top of him.

Above him, Holland lets out a broken whine as he chases his release. He’s thrusting against Healy like both their lives depend on it. March’s hands are firmly planted to either side of his shoulders. Jack can’t hold back an answering groan, so uncomfortably hard in his jeans with no relief in sight. His chest hair is going to be a sticky, matted mess. All of this shouldn’t be as appealing as it is. The only thing that could make it better in this moment is if he could just see his partner a little more clearly. He wants to know what Holland’s face looks like when he cums.

“C’mon, March. You wanted this,” he says, spurring him on. He has a good, if a little blurry, visual of the other man’s upper body with their current position. If he were not occupied with holding his amble chest together for Holland to use, his hands might be tempted to wander.

In response, Holland whines and picks up the pace, nearly rubbing them both raw as he brings himself to the finish line. Jack swears he catches a glimpse of tears in Holland’s eyes as the man finally orgasms. He releases the pressure against his pecs and catches his partner as he goes limp on top of him. Healy feels like he is getting sprayed down with a hose. The other man’s cum floods in the valley of his chest, pooling at the base of his throat and trickling down either side of his neck. A stray shot or two catches him in the face. He tastes bitter saltiness on his lips when he reflexively licks them. It’s a lot of cum, way too much really.

“Shit,” the PI sighs and gingerly scoots out of his hold, further down his body. His dick twitches and a few stray droplets of cum fall onto Healy’s stomach. His own dick is throbbing in his pants when Holland unintentionally makes contact with his crotch.

Healy continues to lay back across the trunk, slightly dazed as his partner shimmies off the vehicle and pulls his boxers and pants back on. He had just let another man rub himself off on him and he hadn’t hated it. He’d enjoyed it even. Near his feet, Holland zips his trousers up and Jack feels himself tense at the crisp sound. He braces himself for the punchline now that the other man has had his fun and gotten his rocks off. He did not particularly think March would be cruel enough to mock him, but this… he didn’t have a script for this.

“What do you want?” Holland asks after a moment of awkward silence, cutting right to the chase.

“Surprise me, March. You’ve been doing a real bang up job of it tonight.” Healy responds, a little hoarse. He doesn’t know what the hell he wants.

“Okay… uhh… sit up, I guess,” he replies, getting onto his knees. His eyes are level with Healy’s crotch.

He obliges him, ignoring the pop in his back as he does. Holland’s cum slides coldly down his chest before stopping somewhere on his stomach. He’s too struck dumb by arousal to care. The other man is on his knees for him, how could he have any rational thought? This has gone far beyond Healy’s wet dream hypothesis and the handjob only gay porno he’d dared to sneak a look at once.

Encouraged by Holland’s hands on his knees, he spreads his legs further to make room for him to shuffle in between them. He manages a reassuring nod when his partner checks in on him with a raised eyebrow that he can barely make out in the dark as he feels the kneeling man slide his left hand up his thigh to get at the front of his pants. Holland has no trouble with the zipper and button on Healy’s jeans despite the fumbling of his own belt earlier. There’s no underwear to tug out of the way. Jackson can’t be bothered to do any more laundry than strictly necessary.

“Shit, I thought I was big…” Holland mutters under his breath and puts his mouth over the head of Healy’s cock.

It was a line straight out of a skin flick, but damn if it didn’t send a hot rush of arousal down Jack’s spine all the same. His head falls back and he lets a guttural noise in response to the way his partner is tonguing along his shaft. Shakily, he puts a hand on his shoulder, gripping firmly. His thumb rubs back and forth against the side of Holland’s neck. He can feel the other man’s throat working as he gives him a blowjob.

A Holland-esque whine almost bursts from his lips when the detective pulls off of him with a wet sounding pop. “Good?”

“Yeah, yeah, real good,” Healy admits, breathing heavily. “Now, please shut up and y’know…”

“Keep going?” Holland finishes with a smirk that’s blinding even in the dim light, and then his mouth is back to work doing something other than engaging in his usual vices of smoking, drinking, and talking way too fucking much.

He tightens his fingers on March’s shoulder like he’s a dog gripping onto a squeaky toy. As inexperienced as the PI clearly is at this kind of thing, it’s almost more than Healy can handle. He’s torn between shoving the other man away or pulling him closer. It has been so long since he’s gotten off. He hadn’t even wanted to touch himself after his wife admitted to cheating on him with his own father of all people. There had not been a single pair of pretty legs that had gotten his attention until Holland came along. Hell, if he admits it to himself, even his wife hadn’t really done it for him. There had always been an undercurrent of wrongness to the whole situation. He’d chalked it up to the fact that she was cheating on him during their marriage, but upon reflection, he hadn’t exactly been performing in the bedroom before that whole relationship started.

“Fuck,” he groans, fighting to keep from thrusting up into his mouth. He’s close, too close. He’s about to- “Holland… Holland .”

The other man moans around Healy’s cock. He’s doing his best to swallow down what he’s given, but some of it leaks out of his mouth and onto his goatee. They make eye contact as he proceeds to milk Jack dry. He pushes against Holland once the suction becomes too much around his softening dick. The other man lets him slip free and while Healy hastily tucks himself, oversensitive, back into his jeans, he leans against his car.

“That was… good,” Holland offers into the silence between the two of them.

Healy takes a moment to respond, busying himself with zipping up his pants and sliding the button home. The turmoil of feelings that he was experiencing earlier is back in full force. They’d both gotten off but no… there was the aftermath.

“March…” he starts but peters out. He slides off of the car. He’s all too aware that he’s still shirtless and covered in Holland’s semen. It’s slowly drying into his chest and stomach hair, getting clean in the dark with no water and no spare cloth is a lost cause.

“Yeah?” The PI responds the moment he realizes Healy isn’t going to add onto the thought. His tone is hopeful, bordering on needy.

“Why…?” He's not sure how to find the words. Hell, what does someone say in this kind of situation?

“Why what?” Holland asks with a touch of tentativeness, as though Healy is going to lay into him.

“Why’d you… this wasn't some kinda joke was it, March?” He questions, shoving his hands into his pockets and curling inward slightly. What he would give to be fully dressed right now. Not that it would help much, he hasn't felt in control since he and Holland started fighting in the car. He isn’t a feelings kind of guy. That would mean he's weak.

“No!” Holland’s voice peaks and cracks. It settles into a more normal range as he continues. “I don’t know… I don’t know how to explain it. This feels different than the way I felt about my wife.”

Healy mutely nods as the taller man starts feeling himself up for his pack of cigarettes before realizing that they’re still in his jacket pocket. Holland wanders around the other side of the car, out of his field of vision, to go after his suit jacket.

The new addition to the Nice Guys Detective Agency can agree though. Whatever is going on between them feels different than it had with his own, now ex, wife. For him, it had felt… right. He absentmindedly follows March around to the other side of the car and picks up his undershirt. He pulls it back over his head, grimacing as his wet chest makes contact with the fabric. The minute he has a chance, he’s jumping in the shower. In the middle of shrugging on his Hawaiian shirt, he hears what sounds like the door of the Benz being opened followed by the rustling of fabric. Incredulous, he turns to stare at the other man.

“The door was open.” Holland says to him, not looking up from the ground.

He doesn't even have it in him to be mad, just lets out a helpless chuckle. “You have to be fucking joking.”

“No,” he sounds sheepish, “but we still gotta find the keys to get out of here. Unless you’d rather talk about what,” gesturing between the two of them, “ this is first.”

“Let’s find the keys first, then we can talk.” Privately, he wants the option for Holland to just leave his ass here if things go south. He doesn’t want his partner to feel trapped with him.

“Sounds good,” Holland says, closing the door and slipping his jacket back on. He flashes Healy a wide smile and bounds over to the approximate location of where he had thrown the keys a while earlier.

Healy locates his jacket and pulls it on. It’s dusty from the dry soil of the lot. He squints into the darkness, scanning the ground for the keys. He almost feels like he would be better off getting onto his hands and knees like that chick in the orange turtleneck that was always losing her glasses on the show Holly’s been into, the one with the talking dog.

He moves to stand next to Holland, brushing shoulders with him in a friendly way. “Why did you have to throw the keys?” He finally comments when his straining eyes fail to see a glimmer of metal.

“I don’t know,” he admits flatly. “We had to resolve whatever that tension was between us somehow.”

Jackson frowns, shrugs. He takes a few steps forward away from Holland, kicking at the ground fruitlessly. He doesn’t get rewarded by the sound of pebbles hitting metal. “What kinda tension you talking about?”

“Y’know… Where I was up in your face and you were trying to get out of mine. That tension.”

“Right, yeah,” he grumbles. “Look, March. What are you wanting outta this?”

“I dunno. Right now it just feels nice when I’m around you.” He shrugs, “You know what I had on my hand when we met? ‘You’ll never be happy’?”

“Yeah? What about it?” Healy tries to not sound choked up over Holland’s words. Where did all these emotions come from? He was an even tempered man, occasionally angry, but this… There was no word of the day for this.

“When I wake up and see you and Holly on the couch… I’m happy.” Holland shrugs and looks at him.

Healy is silent for a long moment before he speaks, his words slow, measured. “You and the kid… it gives me a reason to get up in the morning. Don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“Jesus.” Holland lets out a sigh, putting a hand over his own chest, “Haven’t been this nervous since I got down on one knee… you know, for Holly’s…” he clears his throat, not finishing the thought.

He teeters on the cusp of saying something sincere, but it’s not the time. He doesn’t want to go down an upsetting path, not tonight. They had enough to think about. “Guess I’ll be the one getting on one knee then,” he jokes. A gleam of metal catches his attention when he shifts in place. Holy shit, it’s the keys. He doesn’t dare move in case he loses sight of them with his crap depth perception. He grabs the air in Holland’s direction with one hand while pointing at the keys with the other. “March! March! Keys! ”

“Yes! Fuck yes!” The detective yelps and dives for the keys. He snatches them off the ground with a flourish and crowds into Healy’s space, heys in hand. He kisses him, an enthusiastic press of his mouth against his. He’s smiling even as he pulls back and a shy look crosses his face. “I mean, thanks.”

Healy can’t help himself and draws the man back in, allowing himself to initiate for the first time tonight. He brushes his mouth gently over Holland’s. He lingers for a moment before breaking away. Perhaps if the spell doesn’t break, he could get used to having this.

“Let’s… go home.” March rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. They stare at each other until Healy raises his eyebrows at him. “Right! Home,” he says with a nod and hoofs it back to the car. Jack follows and settles himself into the passenger seat. He feels more content than he has in years.

The drive back to Holland’s house is free of any drama. Holland spends the time aimlessly chattering. It relaxes Healy. He’s nearly asleep by the time they pull into the driveway.

“Huh,” he hears Holland say, and he opens his eyes to see the light of the television flickering from the living room window.

He gets out of the car with a groan and the two men make their way to the front door. Holland fumbles his house key into the lock. Opening the door reveals Holly and Jessica standing in the living room in front of the tv, clearly surprised at being caught still awake.

“Jessica, what are you doing in my house?”

“Sorry Mr. March. My sister’s busy,” she apologizes.

“Yeah, I bet she is.” Holland scoffs. Jack resists the urge to kick him in the back of the leg.

Jessica looks at the men and blurts out. “Oh! Do you go to the same nighttime baking class as my sister?” Holly makes a noise like a stepped on mouse.

Healy is ready to shrug it off as one of Jessica’s eccentricities and Holly having a hiccup, but a cold knife of cognizance suddenly impales him. He remembers that he and Holland didn’t wipe off their faces. He can feel the mostly dried jizz so clearly on his neck and lower half of his face. Oh fuck.

“What…” Holland starts to say before looking at Healy. His eyes go wide in his own realization. “Yeah. Baking. Baking class.”

“Yeah, cinnamon rolls tonight. The icing is real. Uh… real tricky. Gotta make it from scratch. Gets messy.” Healy manages. Why can’t he shut up? He’s sweating. Holly is staring a hole into his soul. Oh, god, she knows he and her old man were doing the hanky panky like a pair of teenagers while they were supposed to be working. If she looks at them any harder, they are both going to catch on fire and burn into two piles of ash right here in the entryway.

Making things worse, Holland dips a finger into the mostly dried cum on Healy and brings it up to his mouth, sucking on the finger. “Wow. Um, really good icing.”

“March, what the fuck are you doing?” Healy questions as nicely as he can manage given the circumstances. Holly makes a retching sound. Jessica as always is oblivious to anything going on around her.

“Just… getting the last bit off you,” the man says with a shrug. Healy watches in fascinated horror as a bead of sweat rolls down his partner’s face. He can see his own release dried into Holland’s goatee. This is too much.

“Well, uh. I’m going to use your shower. If you will please excuse me,” Jackson says politely, too politely, and tries to pretend he isn’t fleeing the scene of a crime. He leaves Holland to deal with the fallout and ducks into the master bathroom and looks at himself in the mirror. What a mess. His undershirt is ruined, but he should have enough clothes to get back to his own apartment after this.

───※ ·❆· ※───

“Well then, let’s get you home Jessica.” Holland clasps his hands together and keeps his lips pressed tight to one another to avoid the awkward smile that was creeping across his face. He feels the cold, sharp daggers that his daughter’s eyes are shooting at him and he turns around to pull his coat back off the hanger. Holland is looking for any excuse to avoid the lecture that he knows Holly has in store for him when he gets back. Unfortunately for him, Jessica has one of the first rational thoughts in her life. She digs her heels a bit into the shag carpet as Holland attempts to push her out the door and says,

“Wait, Mr. March. I live just across the street, remember? I can just walk home.”

Holland’s eyes go blank. He didn’t remember, honestly. “Right. That’s right,” he repeats to himself mostly

“Anyway, bye Holly. I’ll see you at school!” Jessica walks out of the house like she’s a member of the Brady Bunch. That’s the show Jessica liked, right? He shakes his head. It doesn't matter now. What matters is how the hell Holland is going to get out of the scolding that Holly has at the ready for him. He puts the poor coat back onto the hook before slowly turning around to face his daughter. What could he say? She already looks more disappointed in him than the first time she had to drive and pick him up from the bar.

“Hi, honey.” He waves slowly at her, hoping to diffuse some of the tension in the air. This does not work. While he was trying to skirt on out of his own house, Holly had stood up from the couch and crossed her arms in front of her.

“Did you and Mister Healy have… sex and stuff?” She gets right to the point

“Don’t say ‘and stuff’...” Holland starts on his usual spiel. He zips his lips back up when he can see the look in Holly’s eyes getting even more venomous.

“Were you and Mister Healy having sex and stuff ?” She doubles down, making sure to punctuate every word as she repeats her question. She is not about to let her father out of this.

“Fine, we were… having sex.” Holland rubs the back of his neck as he says this. He looked like a teenager caught having a house party while his parents were out of town. Holly rolls her eyes at him and sighs, the gesture laced with disapproval for her dad’s carelessness. She sits back down on the couch before looking back at him and telling him,

“At least clean him up next time, Dad.”

“Fine. I will.” Holland huffs a little bit. His chest puffs up defensively before asking, “Why do you care?”

“Parents should treat each other with respect,” she shrugs. “Also maybe you don’t need to soil the eyes of your teenage daughter by bringing him back looking like that.”

“Okay, fine. You’re right.” He looks away. Up, down, anywhere that wasn’t the direct gaze of his daughter’s judging eyes. He begins doubling down on himself, “I just thought you’d be in bed.”

“Whatever. Just go check on him.” She settles in and watches the tv. She’s going to push her bedtime because her dad is the bigger problem right now. He had no room to judge when his own house wasn’t in order.

“Fine.” He walks to the bathroom with his tail tucked between his legs. He holds his ear up to the door for a second before knocking on the wood. “Hey, Healy?”

“Yeah?” Healy calls back over the sound of the water. He had barely set foot in the shower. It had taken him an age to peel himself out of his undershirt, his hair sticking uncomfortably to the cloth. How the hell did Holland cum so much? The other issue at hand was trying to figure out how to use the shower. After a couple of false starts, he managed to switch the water to the shower handle instead of the bath faucet.

“You mind if I come in?” Holland asks, his voice soft again. He doesn’t want to intrude on the other man if he isn’t welcome, but he wouldn’t be upset if he got a full look at Healy. With Healy’s permission, of course.

The other man hesitates for a moment but decides that it’s fine. He replies with a quick, “It’s your bathroom, March.”

“Yeah, but…” Holland lets out a quick sigh before he opens the door and walks in. He manages to undress himself quickly and glances over at the mirror. He uses his hand to run over his facial hair and mentally mark down where he needs to clean himself up. That was a problem for another day, however. He tugs gently on the shower curtain before asking, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” The bruiser moves to the side to make room for the lankier man. It’s become second nature for Healy. As of late, his entire life has somehow molded around being a part of Holly and Holland’s little family. Not that he’d complain about the recent lack of loneliness.

“Hey.” Holland grins. It’s a quirky little half smile where his lips are almost hidden but there’s just enough there for Healy to see just how happy Holland is. He almost looks like a golden retriever. That’s before he asks the other man, “Can I… kiss you again?” He closes his eyes firmly, fully expecting a ‘no’ or ‘that’s too much’ from Healy, but Healy seems to have no problem with this. He leans in, taking the dive yet again. He pulls Holland into his arms by his waist. He kisses the other man in a way his probably shaky voice could never begin to explain. After they break their contact Holland just kind of laughs, “I was just gonna do this…” he explains. His lips meet with the crown of Healy’s head. His arms work their way around his kind of boyfriend and rests his chin atop the other man’s head. They stay still in the water like this for a moment together. It was oddly intimate, even though a mere hour ago the blond was using the other man’s chest to get himself off. Healy lets a soft pleased moan slip from his lips while Holland cleans off his mess from Healy’s chest. He reaches up and gets some shampoo lathered in between his fingers. His fingers work their way through the blond’s hair. This is a moment of intimacy Healy hadn’t had with someone outside of sex before.

A couple minutes later, after the two were clean, Holland reaches behind Healy’s back and switches the water off. He carefully pulls the shower curtain to one side and reaches for a towel, offering it to Healy. He steps out of the tub and starts to rummage through his bathroom closet. It shouldn’t be this hard to find a damn towel. After he finds one he starts drying himself off and looks over at Healy, who offers him a quick, “Thanks” in return for the shower. Jackson picks up his pile of clothes and forces himself back into his jeans. At this point, he’s sure that Holland’s sick of him and is just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Before that can happen Holland interrupts his thoughts.

“You wanna… sleep in my bed?” Holland asks, again expecting that it’s at this point Healy’s gone along for the ride for too long, and he’ll finally want to stop. He offers further, “Or if you don’t, you can sleep on the couch. Just kick Holly out and back to her room. She should be asleep anyway.” His sentence continues to trail as he fills in the silence that had settled between the two of them. Healy sighs and runs the palm of his hand across his face before saying,

“I didn’t know staying was an option.” His words are soft, and a bit hesitant. “Where do you want me?”

“I…” Holland starts to stutter. He takes a breath to calm himself down before finally saying, “Honestly? I want you in my bed.” He scoffs to himself. If he hadn’t done it before, Healy was sure to get off now. It was really an outlandish thing for Holland to ask of the other man.

“Okay. Okay, yeah, I can do that. Forgot to bring my pajamas though. Wasn’t expecting a sleepover,’ He jokes, using this opportunity to zip up his jeans.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Holland rubs his eyes as he starts getting tired. He walks over to his dresser and scans through his clothes for something to wear. He settles on an undershirt that’s clean enough for Holland’s standards and a fresh pair of boxers. He lies down and sprawls across his bed before making room for the other half of Nice Guys Agency to lie besides him.

Healy uses the blanket on the bed to cover himself up a little, but lets his hands rest on top of his still bare stomach. He’s trying his best not to break some unspoken boundary between the two but he can’t help but feel tempted when he sees the way Holland takes up the space on his bed. Holland’s no better than him, not with him sliding a cautious arm around the other man's back. He lets that hand lean against Healy’s side, fingers running through the other man’s body hair ever so slightly. Healy seems to notice this discrepancy and looks down at Holland’s arm.

“Thought your left hand was too fucked up to stroke anything, March.”

“I… yeah it is.” Holland slides his hand back, doing his best to pretend that it was still screwed up. His face was bright red, not that anyone would be able to tell. He didn’t want to admit it, Healy hadn’t really caught him, had he?

Without a thought, Healy catches Holland’s arm before it gets too far away. He moves it back to its previous spot. “If you wanted attention, you could have just said something. Woulda saved us some trouble.”

“And say what?” Holland snarks back at him, “ ‘Hey, Healy, give me a handy will ya?’ No thanks.” Jack shakes with a silent laugh.

“I did offer you one, y’know. In the car.”

“Yeah. I know.” He rolls his eyes, “I was probably thinking more with my schwantz than I want to admit.”

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