#whoa i almost got bingo!
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Maggie Kim
#whoa i almost got bingo!#but the thing is...she doesn't even appear on-screen so she's not exactly hard to write ^^'#i guess that also means we don't know for SURE that she's good-looking...but i just know she is#captain america#whole shards#take me in#maggie kim#meet my ocs
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Aahp (1) - A cold December night
Title: Aahp (1) A cold December night
Prompt filled for @writersmonth – Day: 25 - word: lips
Square filled for @sebastianstanbingo: Free Space - Nick Fowler
Summary: Mobster!Andy Barber x fem!Reader, Mobster!Nick Fowler x fem!Reader (for now)
Other pairings: Former Mobster!Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader (implied)
Warnings: angst, language, unrequited love, sad reader, sadness, Ransom being an asshole (implied), soft Nick, grumpy Andy (but he’s got a weak spot for lost girls)
Words: 1,5 k
A/N: *Pookie = is a term of endearment for someone or something that you care about deeply in your life.
Angel and her protectors masterlist
Sebastian Stan Bingo masterlist
It’s a late and cold December night as you aimlessly walk the streets of Boston. The cold wind bites your skin while you struggle to remember the direction you came from.
“Hell, get a hold of yourself, Y/N,” you wipe your wet cheeks with your gloved hand, making things even worse as you feel the soft wool touch your skin. Now you remember the day he bought them for you, and your heart shatters all over again.
You’d like to take the gloves off and throw them away, but it’s too cold to do so. You’re already freezing, and it will be no use to lose a finger only as you can’t bear feeling the gloves on your hands.
“Miss, did you get lost,” you glance at the elder man flipping his cigarette onto the sidewalk. “It’s too damn cold to be outside tonight. You should go home.”
“Home,” nodding you look around the almost empty streets. “Can you tell me where I am? I need to get back to my hotel.”
“Oh! You’re not from around,” he gives you a sympathetic smile. “What’s the name of the hotel? I can tell you where to go if I know the name.”
“I’m usually not getting lost,” you laugh while rubbing your cold arms. “I just…you know…” wiping your eyes again you try to focus on anything but the burning pain in your chest. “I lost my phone too.”
“Love or business?” the man seems to see right through you. Maybe it’s like your granny used to say. You get wiser with every passing year.
“A little bit of both…no,” shaking your head you try not to cry again. “Love. If it even was love.” You sniff now. “It doesn’t matter anymore. He made his decision and I need to get back to my hotel before I freeze to death.”
“I can call a cab for you, miss,” he gets his phone out. “Where do you want to go?”
“I-InterContinental Boston,” the wind is so cold that your teeth begin to chatter as you try not to cry again. “Is it far from here? I just ran and ended up here.” You point around the area.
“Not that far. But it’s too far to walk. It’s dark and cold,” you watch the friendly elder man call a cab. All you can offer are twenty bucks and a broken smile as he hands you a cup of coffee. “It’s alright, miss. One day, the sun is shining for you again.”
“Probably not so soon. I just quit my job and left my hometown only to come here and realize he didn’t want me here. I got it all wrong,” you sip at the coffee. “Thank you for your help, Sir.”
The hot shower didn’t help getting the cold out of your bones. You’re still shaking while you hide under the covers. At least you booked the hotel for a few more nights.
He looked so shocked to see you. All this time he came to your town, pretending to offer more than passion and a few stolen moments while he was around.
How could you have been so blind and stupid all this time? Two years down the drain. More of your precious lifetime wasted on a man lying straight to your face.
It takes you three more days to leave Boston. You had hoped for him to come to you and explain the situation. That it wasn’t what it looked like, or that you got it all wrong.
Now you feel like an even bigger fool.
All you can do is walk toward the exit of the hotel and pray you don’t run into the man breaking your heart for nothing.
“Whoa watch your step, miss,” you mumble an apology as you almost ran a stranger over. He grips your arm to keep you from falling over his suitcase. “Hey, are you alright?” you glance up at the man, shaking your head as he gives you a soft smile. “Can I help you?”
“I don’t think anyone can help me,” blinking more tears away you try so hard not to cry in front of a stranger. That’s the last thing you need. Pity…
“Hey, you are shaking. Let me know if you need help,” he softly says as he guides you toward the couch at the lobby. He forgets about his suitcase and helps you sit down. “I know life can be hard. Just don’t give up.”
“You should care about your luggage, not some sad girl you just met,” now he huffs. “What? Are you a social worker or something?”
“Or something,” the man dips his head to look you up and down. “What’s a pretty girl like you crying about? Did something happen?”
“Nothing serious. Only a man breaking my heart for money,” you wipe your tired eyes. “He wanted me to move to Boston only for him to announce his engagement with some other girl. I think his grandfather wanted him to marry…and…I wasn’t good enough.”
“What a douchebag,” he sits next to you to pat your thigh. “What’s that bastard’s name?”
“You should go now, Sir. I’m fine, okay? Life goes on,” you shrug. “It’s not a big deal when a guy breaks a girl’s heart and ruins her life. I only quit my job and my apartment. I have to move out by the end of the month.”
“Shit,” the man huffs now. “What do you want to do now?”
“Sit and wait,” you laugh as he makes a face. “I got no clue. I don’t have a job any longer and can’t go back. My apartment is gone and there is no one I could turn to. My life just went to shit and the only person I can blame is myself.”
“I would blame the guy leading you on,” this time you look the man straight in the eyes. His features soften, and if not for the hopeless state you are in, you would call him breathtakingly handsome.
His blue eyes seem to shine whenever you look at him. “What are you doing, Nick? We don’t have time to flirt with cute girls,” another man steps toward the couch. He doesn’t seem to be the kind of man taking care of crying girls. “We got to get going.”
“She needs help,” your savior gruffly replies. “Some bastard lead her on.” That picked the other man’s interest.
He’s as tall as Nick, and his hair is neatly gelled back, but there is a stray strand fighting his perfectionism. A thick beard frames his face. His features are hard, but his eyes soften as you choke out a sob.
“Angel, what happened?” he suddenly crouches down next to you to touch your knee. “Did anyone hurt you? Where did they hurt you? Did they touch you?”
“I told you; someone led her on, Andy,” Nick grumbles. “We need to help her.”
“I’m not some stray kitten,” you protest as the men start to talk about you as if you aren’t even there. “Hello! You can’t just decide to help me. I can fix my mess on my own.”
“Of course, you can,” Andy mumbles as he runs his hand over your thigh. “You just need a little help, don’t you?” his Boston accent is thick as he looks up at you with big blue eyes. “Right, angel. You want us to make everything better.”
“I-“ shit, it feels like he’s hypnotizing you with his gaze. While Andy coos soft words, Nick strokes your cheek, whispering sweet pet names in your ear. “Wait, I’m not going to go anywhere with two strangers.”
“Angel, you know us. That’s Nick, and I’m Andy,” you feel like a scolded child as Andy gets back up to straighten his back. He looks around the lobby, nodding at someone while you try to not freak out. “Nick, you will stay with our angel. I’ll make a few calls.”
“He can be a bit bossy, but you’ll get used to it,” Nick whispers in your ear, lips brushing your ear shell. “How about we get your luggage, and you tell me about your apartment.”
“I don’t even know you. What is going on here?” Andy sighs deeply as you start to get louder again.
“Angel, you need to calm down. This is-“
“You see, we need you to come with us. It seems you are of interest to Ransom Drysdale, grandson of Harlan Thrombey, one of the most dangerous men in whole Massachusetts,” Nick hastily cuts Andy off. “You need to trust me now. Okay.”
“Why would I?” fear creeps into your thoughts as two more men walk toward you. “What? How can they look like you? How-oh my…this is all too much…”
“Great,” Andy grunts at the other men. “You couldn’t make it faster? We had to do all the work.”
“She passed out,” Nick carefully picks you up in bridal style. “I guess this way it’s easier to take her, huh?” He grins down at your unconscious form. “How did Drysdale manage to get this cute *Pookie in his clutches?”
“Oh, we are already on pet name base?” Andy cocks his head to look at you in Nick’s arms. “Fine. Go and bring her to the car. We don’t want anyone to watch us kidnap Ransom Drysdale’s fiancé…”
>> Part 2
Tags in reblog.
#sebstanbingo#writersmonth2022#andy barber#nick fowler#andy barber x reader#nick fowler x reader#mafia au#mobster!andy barber#mobster!nick fowler
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Work at a Smile, Go for a Ride - also on AO3
~
Matt, about to lose his composure, has to take a walk in the middle of the coffin match during All In. And he runs into one Jon Moxley.
~
Bingo square hurt/comfort, you are vanquished! Title from Bad Day by Daniel Powter, because I'm old.
~
Matt can’t even keep his focus during the rest of All In. This is his baby, his life’s work. And he lost. They all lost.
When the screen in front of him blurs to the point where he can’t tell who’s who in the coffin match, he knows he has to call it.
“I need to talk a walk,” he says, and it’s too loud, it’s too abrupt, they’re gonna know.
Nick looks over at him. Then Adam, then Kenny. Even Kota’s eyes harbor pity, something Matt’s never wanted to earn from him. Adam smiles, too gently. “Want me to come with?”
“No,” Matt says, too quickly.
Nick stares at him, studies him unblinkingly. “Are you okay?”
“I’m – fine,” Matt lies. “I just need some alone time, okay?” He risks a look at Nick, whose blue eyes are giant and sad. He resists the urge to laugh; sometimes they do look like twins.
“I’m sorry, Matt,” Nick whispers. He reaches out and rests his hand on Matt’s arm. The repaired bicep. “I’m so sorry.”
Matt lies with a smile and sighs. “It’s not you. Sometimes it just doesn’t go our way, okay?” He leans in and pulls Nick in for the most reassuring hug he can muster, then steps away. “I’ll, um. I’ll be back.” He steps backward and waves at everyone at the production station and turns before the first tear builds.
This is stupid. It doesn’t matter if they won or lost. Nick even said that.
He was a half second too late to break up the pin, though. That does matter.
He swipes at his eyes, refusing to let tears fall if he cant stop them from gathering, and runs headlong into someone.
“Watch it!”
Matt looks up, startled. “I – sorry, Mox.” He steps aside. “I – yeah.”
“Whoa,” Mox says. Matt turns around. “No ‘eff you’? No ‘how’d it feel to lose’? What’s with the lack of attitude?”
Matt shrugs. “Not feeling it today.”
Mox stares at him so hard Matt blinks first, and a single tear he’s been battling runs down his face. He reaches up to swipe it away, but Mox catches it first with a rough thumb against his cheek. “Why aren’t you with your friends?”
“I really don’t want to do this right now.”
Mox sighs. “Okay. Fine.” He grabs Matt’s arm, gently at least, and steers him into the now empty warmup room. Matt’s immediately hit with the wall of excitement that now stings, the anticipation of being in this room earlier now soured with disappointment. “We don’t have to do it now. Whenever you’re ready.”
Matt sits on the bench, head dropping between his shoulders. “We don’t – you don’t need to talk to me. I’m fine.”
“How many times do you think you have to say that before it magically comes true?” The weight shifts on the bench and Mox’s thigh bumps against Matt’s. “Talk to me.”
“Why?” Matt asks, turning to Mox. “No offense or anything, but you hate me. Is this to get intel or something?”
Mox blinks at him. “You think I hate you?”
“I mean…” Matt pauses, unsure of where to go next. “Don’t you?”
Mox gets a hint of a smile in his eyes. “Do you hate me?”
Matt shrugs. “I don’t think so. Probably not.”
“Well, then, I probably don’t hate you, too,” Mox says. He bumps Matt’s arm. “Talk to me.”
“This is weird.”
“I’m weird,” Mox says. He points to his forehead, bandaged in a way that’s almost cartoonish. “I got skewers in my forehead.”
“You did,” Matt says, and he surprises himself with a tiny chuckle. “What’s with you and bleeding that much?”
“Feels good,” Mox says, stretching his arms up. “You know? Like I’m really working for it.”
“Oh, like it’s not real if you don’t bleed?” Matt scoffs. “My leg is killing me right now and all I’ll have to show is a bruise.” He rolls his eyes.
“What, you want me to kiss it better, you big baby?” Mox asks.
Laughing, Matt speaks before he thinks. “If that’s what I wanted, I’d tell you my dick hurt.” Matt freezes. “Uh.”
“No, no, continue,” Mox says. “I would love to hear what your next idea was.”
“I – shut up.” Matt feels himself blush red.
“No, keep talking,” Mox goads. “Is that how you and the Elite celebrate when you win?” Mox leans in, and Matt can sense Mox’s lips by his ear. “You upset because you ain’t getting any?”
Matt turns to find Mox far closer than he though. “Did you bring me in here to, like, seduce me while I’m miserable?”
“Wasn’t my first plan, but now that we’re here.” He doesn’t move, though. His eyes keep flickering to Matt’s mouth.
Matt sighs. “Ugh. At least I’ll have something good to look back on from tonight.” He leans in and kisses Mox, who grabs at his hips. Matt shifts, letting Mox guide him so he’s straddled his lap. The angle is delicious, and Mox slides his hands into Matt’s still shower damp hair to anchor Matt where he wants him. Matt whimpers. He can’t stop his hands from going to Mox’s face until he bumps the bandage.
“Sorry,” he gasps, pulling away.
“Nah, fuck it up all you like.” Mox winks. “You gotta know by now I like a little pain.”
“You’re the worst,” Matt grumbles, but he leans in and kisses Mox again, digging his nails a little into Mox’s biceps. Mox moans into his mouth, his hands sliding up the back of Matt’s shirt and pulling away just enough to take it off.
“Lay down,” Mox says. “Gonna kiss that dick all better.”
Matt laughs again, and it feels weird to be giddy after such a miserable loss, but he lets Mox maneuver him to the bench. “This is stupid.”
“Yes,” Mox says, and Matt sits up to see Mox’s face framed by his own thighs. “Is that a problem?”
Matt shuffles his gym shorts and boxers down his hips, and Mox tosses them to the side. “No.”
“Cool.”
Like his wrestling, Mox doesn’t appear to have much warmup with blowjobs. Matt’s entire dick is in his mouth before Matt can blink. “Holy – oh my god.”
Mox gives a thumbs up and eyes him with a mouthful of cock.
“I – of course it’s good, why are you asking?”
Mox bobs down and pulls off, adding his hand to stroke Matt. “I wanted to confirm. I want to make it better, not worse.”
“Do you always offer blowjobs to people who lose matches?” Matt asks, words high and unsteady as Mox licks at the head of his cock.
“Only when they’re pretty and nice to me.” Mox winks and sinks his mouth back around Matt.
“Pretty,” Matt gasps, forcing his hips to stay still. “You think so?”
Mox pulls back, tongues at Matt’s slit and strokes again. “Very pretty,” Mox says. “Probably prettier if you can stop asking me questions so I can suck you off properly.”
Matt laughs and drops his head back, lightheaded. “Yeah. Yeah, I get that. Okay. No more questions.”
“That doesn’t mean be quiet,” Mox says, and it feels almost like an admonishment. “We got nobody in here, baby, and nobody due for a while. I wanna hear you.”
Matt giggles, high pitched and stupid. “Yeah, okay.”
He talks. He doesn’t remember anything he says – just talks, asks for more, directs Mox on what he likes, and praises what works. Mox slides his hands under Matt’s ass and lifts him high.
“Can – can I?” Matt doesn’t have the brainpower to ask right, so he tilts his hips a little, hoping it gets across what he wants.
Mox pulls away, a string of saliva going from the tip of Matt’s cock to his lip, and Matt almost comes right then. “You asking if you can fuck my mouth?”
Matt whines as he nods.
“Then go ahead.”
Matt should be embarrassed by how fast everything barrels toward him. Usually he has a bit of a warning, a tingle in his spine, but he barely has the chance to say, “I –”
Mox sucks hard, and Matt thinks his soul shoots out his dick as he comes down Mox’s throat. “Oh, my god.”
Mox laughs as he pulls off, using the sleeve of his BCC hoodie to wipe his mouth. “Yeah? I’ll take it as a positive review.”
“Get – over here,” Matt demands. Mox lifts himself up on his knees and Matt falls forward to kiss him. The taste of himself in Mox’s mouth sends his head spinning so he pushes further forward and the two of them crash backward onto the mats.
“Oops,” Matt says, not sorry at all.
Mox grins and pulls him down for another kiss. It strikes Matt that this is possibly the stupidest thing he could be doing right now. There’s already been another backstage problem tonight, and getting walked in on mid-sex with Jon goddamned Moxley can’t end well.
But he was sad and now he’s not, and he had failed before and he sure won’t in a blow job, so maybe this bad decision is worth it.
He slides down Mox’s body and gets his fingers hooked in the waistband of Mox’s sweatpants. “Yes?”
“Fuck yes,” Mox confirms.
“Also, for the record,” Matt says, licking his lips as Mox’s cock pops into view. “You can fuck my mouth.”
Mox laughs is almost more of a gasp as Matt sinks down on his cock. “Noted. Jesus fuck.”
Matt knows he’s good at this blowjob thing. Wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun in Ring of Honor if he wasn’t, he considers. Mox’s hips lift almost weakly as he pushes into Matt’s mouth, so Matt grabs the back of his thighs to help with the motion.
“Knew those biceps and that mouth would be good for something,” Mox laughs.
Matt moves a finger to flip Mox off while he cups Mox’s balls with the other, and Mox devolves into mindless babbles and swears.
He takes the moment like a meditation. They lost tonight. He and all of the Elite lost. But it’s not the end. Losing in Wembley, knowing that All Out and Wrestle Dream and Full Gear at the Forum are coming up, isn’t the end of it all.
As Mox warns, “Jesus, Matt, I’m about to – fuck,” Matt thinks he’s less of a failure than he worried.
Mox comes down his throat like a confirmation, and Matt grins around it as he swallows down. Today he had a bad match. It happens.
He definitely didn’t have a bad evening, though.
“Good?” he asks, leaning down to wipe his mouth on Mox’s black sweatpants. A streak of spit and come is left behind, and Matt grins at it.
“Good – are you kidding me?” Mox sits up, looking befuddled. “How the fuck – why are you so good at that?”
“Practice,” Matt says. He grabs his shorts and boxers from where Mox had thrown them and shuffles them on, making it just the tiniest performance as he shakes his ass in front of Mox.
“With who?”
Matt throws a grin over his shoulder. “We do this again, maybe I’ll tell you.”
Mox groans, dropping back to the bench. “Goddamn it. Now I have to fuck you again.”
“Oh no,” Matt deadpans, adjusting his hair in the mirror. “I might get your dick in my ass. What a terrible fate.”
Mox grins at him in the mirror. “Next time I should fuck you with mirrors. I bet you like that, huh?”
“Have every time I’ve fucked in a gym,” Matt replies.
“What?! I thought you were a good Christian boy or whatever.”
Matt leans down and kisses Mox on the lips, because why not, and half skips toward the door. “Good Christians make the world a kinder place. I find blow jobs and sex work well for that.”
Mox blinks at him. “I may become obsessed with you.”
Matt sighs, hand on the door knob. “A lot of people do. Text me when you get to your hotel.”
“Um. Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
Matt’s able to keep himself from literally skipping back to the production area, but he can’t wipe off the smile.
“You look chipper,” Adam says, a coffee in his hands. He gives it to Matt. “Here. I got you something that might make you feel better, but you look like you’re good now.”
Matt takes a sip. Perfect. “I feel better, yeah.”
Nick whips around and gets a look at Matt, scrutinizing. Matt tries not to betray his past half hour. “Oh, god,” Nick says, with the most dramatic eye roll since the 90s, “who did you sleep with?”
“I – what?!” Matt tries to argue, deny it, something, but all that comes out are squeaks.
Adam throws back his head, laughing. “Oh, Jesus. That’s what the smile is.”
“Just shut up and give me a headset,” Matt grumbles, but he’s still smiling as he settles behind a screen.
~
Mini Playlist:
Bad Day - Daniel Powter
Dirty Thoughts - Chloe Adams
Something In Your Mouth - Nickelback
Throat Goat - Kim Petras
#MoxMatt#ffw bingo#wtf I like wrestling now???#in which Sara writes#Matt Attrackson#madly in love with leather daddy jon moxley#enjoy the shenanigans
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wip wednesday
Working on another fill of my codywan bingo card, featuring marine biologist Cody! Can’t wait to finish this and share it, cause it’s going to be very fun and very cute!
Ahsoka sticks out her hand and an amused Cody leans down to shake it. As serious as any six year old can be, she says: “Ahsoka.”
“Nice to meet you Ahsoka.” Cody smiles and turns to Anakin. “And?”
“I’m Anakin! And that’s my Master, Obi-Wan.”
“Jedi Master, that is,” Obi-Wan adds with a cough.
Cody chuckles. “Yes, the robes did give it away. I hope you weren’t trying to be stealthy,” he teases.
Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow and waves a hand at Anakin and Ahsoka. “With these two?”
As if to prove Obi-Wan’s point for him, Anakin looks at Cody’s face with a little frown. “How did you get the scar?” he asks apropos of nothing and with the unlimited curiosity of an eleven year old.
Obi-Wan nearly chokes on his own spit and flails rather embarrassingly as he cries: “Anakin!”
Cody, however, laughs—and Obi-Wan would call the sound sinful, but he’s got a padawan and a youngling at his side and so he swallows that down very quickly. “I was attacked by an opee sea killer once. Left me with quite the scare and a wicked scar.”
“Whoa!” Ahsoka gasps, eyes wide.
“Wizard!” Anakin cries and then waves excitedly at Obi-Wan. “Obi-Wan was almost eaten by one of those too! Right, Master?”
Cody turns amused eyes to Obi-Wan. “Oh?” he asks, raising an eyebrow and his lips curl up in a smile that looks very much like a playful tease. “What a coincidence.”
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for @klarolineauseason Week 2 - All Human. Prompt : high school best friends to lovers au
summary: Caroline was never a partier, she hated parties more than anything in the world.
Truth be told, she hated it the most when her best friend isn't with her the whole time.
Centerfold
Caroline can’t believe she agreed to come to a party on a friday night again for a distraction. Parties are definitely better in theory than in reality. She hated the loud music and people shouting when they were trying to talk. She hated the stench of weed and smoke that hung in the air. She was never a partier, she hated parties more than anything in the world.
After arriving at the party with Klaus, he was once again nowhere to be seen. Hell the guy walks around like he owns the place. Wouldn't be surprised if he got caught up with all his fans that were dying to dance with him.
Whatever, she'll be fine on her own. Caroline looked down at the cup on her hand and decided she needed a new drink. She walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle. It tasted awful, but she found it hard to care anymore.
She sat at the stairs and sipped her bottle while people came and left in big groups. She ignored the people who tried to talk to her. When her bottle was almost empty, she decided to get up and get a new one.
She stumbled when she stood up and god her head was spinning. Using the wall for support, her eyes scanned the entire party for the person she wanted to see.
God she couldn't breathe. Everyone kept dancing around her, she stumbled back and forth through the people in the living room. Oh great, the music grew even louder. She found herself cursing the band.
She really needs to get out of here. But how? Klaus. I have to find Klaus. He would help her and get her out of this god forsaken party. I need my best friend. Klaus would stop the world from spinning. He would hold her close. He would take her home.
She finally found him; On the couch with a beautiful brunette whose long legs draped along his lap. His hands were absent mindedly tracing her calves as she spoke. BINGO.
She stumbled up to Klaus, drawing his attention from the brunette on his lap. "Klaus, you need to come with me now" she slurred. She took a sip from the drink in his hand since she was already drunk. She spat it back. "Jesus, this is the worst thing I've had all night. "
He chuckled and apologetically pushed the brunette's legs off him and stood up to put an arm around Caroline's waist. Taking his drink back, "I could have warned you, you know. "
She clung onto his shirt for support while the room was rocking. His woody aftershave was swirling her nostrils. He smelled good. Too good in fact. It was a crime for him to look insanely good in his black t-shirt, dirty blond curls tussled.
Caroline wanted to dance, to feel his body pressed against hers. She took his hand and dragged him towards the grinding teens in the room. She lost her footing, almost falling.
She felt disconnected to her legs, as if her limbs were not her own. Klaus' hands steadied her but she felt like she was falling. Her vision was blurry and never settling.
"Whoa, easy love," Klaus said into her hair, trying to keep her steady. "Hold on, I got you. " He kept repeating it as he led her through the crowd like a soothing mantra, again and again. "I got you. I got you. I got you. "
And she knew he always would.
review on ao3 ( feel free to leave a comment if you liked reading my mini drabble xoxo)
#heatherstyles writes#my drabbles#mini klaroline drabble#klarolineauseason#week 2 - All human#klaroline fluff#high school best friends to lovers#klaus having a soft spot for his best friend#drunk caroline#klaus and caroline#caroline forbes#klaus mikaelson#please leave kudos and comments if you liked it!#klaus x caroline#I wrote a mini drabble *screaminggggggg*
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Hi, pal! 👋 I’ve been thinking about this for you, so I feel prepared to botch this. 😂 I wish you would write an appendicitis fic with them also out somewhere against the elements or not near a hospital with some creative medic skillz. 😉
EM! Did you know I have a roadside surgery bingo square that I am struggling with or is this just a happy coincidence?
This seems so harrowing! And Eddie’s a field medic so he’d be used to horrific injury but he’s not a surgeon so I think Hen would have to be there.
The main problem with the appendix is that you wouldn’t resort to this unless you were sure it would burst otherwise and you couldn’t *really* be sure outside of the hospital.
(The second problem with appendicitis is that I might kinda sorta have an idea with hockey!buck determined to finish this playoff game and hiding that he’s feeling sick 😅)
BUT ALSO. Because it's my friend, Em, who asked:
[Scene: The ambulance is stuck. It maybe tipped off a small cliff so it's resting like so 🥖 or perhaps wedged into something so that it can't be pulled free without heavy equipment. Probably the whole road is damaged so that it's going to be a long time before anyone can get in or out. They were on their way to collect a patient so no one else has to be rescued but Hen and Chimney are staying with the ambulance because, well, someone has to.
Chimney has been feeling sick for a couple days. He was nauseous when he got to work, a little bit of pain, but there's a stomach thing going around and he figures that's what it is. But it's gotten worse over the twenty-four plus hour shift they're now on. And he's been complaining more and more all the time he and Hen have been waiting. When things suddenly get more intense, Hen does a rebound test and the diagnosis becomes clear. She radios for help but even though they get moved up the priority list, they're still going to be stuck for hours.]
Hen grabs the jump bag and starts adding to it. She yanks open cabinets and drawers, opens the narcotics box and adds it to the inventory.
"What are you doing?" Chimney asks.
"Packing."
"Yeah, I got that. But from what Bobby just said, it's going to be a while before our Uber gets here so maybe you don't have to be quite so-" he gestures in a manic way- "about it."
"We're not waiting for the Uber," Hen says, scanning the shelves and adding another two packages to the bag. "That roadblock isn't even a mile down the road. We're going to get you there and call someone to pick us up on the other side."
"Whoa, what?" Chimney replies, trying to sit upright. He's leaning against the divider between the seats and the back of the truck and it's a fight against gravity with the ambulance resting nose down in a ditch, but he almost manages it.
Almost.
With a long groan that underlines the seriousness of the situation, Chimney falls back hard against the wall, his hands clutching at his sides. He laughs, but there's no humor in it.
"Unless you're going to wheel me the whole way on a gurney..."
Hen whirls around, slamming her hand on the countertop. "If that's what it takes, then I'll put your ass on the damn gurney," she snaps. Her voice doesn't shake, but her shoulders rise and fall with quick, shallow breaths and when she meets Chimney's eyes, he hates the uncertainty he finds there.
"Hen."
"I'm not going to let you die in here, Chim. Which is what could happen if your appendix bursts. The infection will spread through your abdomen. You could get an abscess or become septic. And I'm not waiting around for it to happen. We're getting that thing out of you."
"So get it out of me."
Chimney doesn't know he's going to say it until he does, but once the words are out of his mouth, he knows there's not another possibility.
"What?" Hen replies.
Pushing himself up again, groaning again, Chimney says, "You said, I could die if I don't get this thing out of me. So I'm just thinking I'm sitting here with the world's greatest general surgeon, maybe I'd like to see her in action."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"About as ridiculous as me running a mile right now."
"I don't have surgical tools, disinfectant, fluids-"
"We've got plenty of fluids!" Chimney said, gesturing to where he hopes the bags of saline haven't burst in the accident.
"Blood," Hen answers. "A level fucking operating table. No. If I cut you open right now, it would be murder. I'm not doing it."
"If I die you could tell them I forced you to do it."
Hen scoffs.
"Okay you're right. No one would believe that." Pain knifes through his side again as Chimney shifts, pain that he feels uniquely qualified to classify as stabbing, and he knows, in the kind of way a person knows when something is wrong in his own body, that he's getting worse. But he's not going to die. He refuses. Not when he has so much to live for.
"So we tell them the truth," he says.
"What truth are we talking about?"
"The one where I was dying. Where the ambulance was too far away and I didn't have a chance. The one where my daughter and the love of my life are waiting for me to come home and I asked my best friend to help me do that.
"Please, Hen. Get this thing out of me."
As Chimney talked, Hen's expression grew softer and more tearful, matching his own. He doesn't have to beg. He doesn't even have to say anything else Hen is his best friend. She has back always. And he trusts her completely.
"Okay," she says finally. "Let's get that thing out of you."
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The nightmare is back
Here I am after work, finally?
So, I've watched a small bit of the beginning of the race before going to work, but I'm starting it again to comment properly. Yes, I'm a masochist.
Carlos touching Lewis while closing him the door, what the hell? Verstappen just flies away and now what? Jesus I hate this. And Kevin good off track!!!! He just saved it barely, whoa that was scary, but he makes it and the car keeps going, which is fantastic. What a start.
Good for George gaining on Norris. Pedro de la Rosa saying that Lewis is an "ugly" opponent (obviously meaning he's a tough cookie, but still funny that he said it like that) is pretty accurate, I wouldn't like to dance with him if I were Carlos. Otherwise, I'd gladly dance with him anytime 😂 Anyway, back to acting normal now.
Lewis is gaining on Carlos but still a little too far away to hunt him down properly. In the mean while, I've thinking, how funny would it be Estie Bestie with Pierre as a teammate next year? I mean, I'd give my left arm to see Mick or Danny boy in Alpine with him in 2023, but I'd laugh my ass off if Pierre gets confirmed for Alpine in the next few weeks.
Pity that Kevin almost got Latifi, but he made a mistake and couldn't make it. Alonso hunting down the Alpha Tauris was nice to watch, he was a beast going after them. And Alpine now might've fucked it for him, but let's see.
Lobato had to say that until this point the race has been clean without incidents or Safety Cars. You had to speak, you idiot. And now Haas fucking up Mick's pit stop. Now Günther, do you still maintain that in order for you to sign Mick for 2023 he has to make more points? Because this was what fucked his chance of getting those, not him. Ridiculous, honestly.
And now Ferrari fucks it up tremendously by missing a tyre for Carlos' pit stop!!!!!! What the actual fuck Ferrari? And they left the gun out and Checo just passed on top of the gun and he probably crushed it because it was right there in the middle. What is going on!?
Now Lewis and George are 3-4, which would've been encouraging hadn't it been for... Well, Mercedes.
Mick fighting Seb, oh my dear babies fighting, I bet Seb was cheering him on even while fighting each other 🥲 I'm so soft right now, I love them, even trying to pass each other they're all love in my eyes 🥰
Now Lewis is P2 and George P3. Shit, this was looking so good... And Max stops and Lewis leads! Shit, they should've stopped the count right then and there, I wanna cry.
I've distracted myself for a minute and Verstappen just eats George like he's nothing!? Oh my god.... Thank goodness Mercedes did a very good pit stop for Lewis, let's see how that paid out.
Another shitty pit stop for Mick. So nice, guys. good thing seeing Lewis taking Fastest Lap. AND LEWIS ALMOST PASSING CHECO. And Lewis still tries and tries and tries, AND HE GOES THROUGH, YES!!!!! AND SEBASTIAN WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! 😂 Lewis almost messes it up because of him, that was scary 😅
Yuki with loose tyres.... What's going on? Yellow Flag but engineers tell him that the tyres are okay... Every team was ready to pit, and Leclerc does actually stop, another good pit. And Yuki stops for the second time, which is already weird. I know not long after he truly stopped and retired, aaaaaand bingo. What the fuck. And now the Virtual SC does make an appearance, to call it something. This honestly smells like something's been cooking, and I don't like it. Like, at all.
Hannah Schmitz, girl do I dislike you as part of the RedBull team, especially for being incredibly good at your job for them, but girl do I respect you immensely because of that too. I don't give a shit she's at RBR, she's fucking brilliant. In a men's world, that woman is a ray of hope for many more to come.
Jesus fucking Christ, Bottas stops at the main straight, no fucking way. Where's the fucking SC?! What the fucks is wrong with the so called Race Directors?
I know the Merc 1-2 doesn't last long so I obviously won't get my hopes up... And Carlos is gonna get a penalty for that unsafe release. That's nice.
Why stop George and not Lewis? Mercedes what the fuck. Welcome back to Abu Dhabi 2021... This is a fucking nightmare. Mercedes know perfectly well how the RedBull is unbeatable this season, and they don't pit Lewis so that he has at least the tiniest chance? What are these guys doing, and why are they doing it to Lewis of all people? I'm so fucking angry at Mercedes.
And there it goes. So disappointed. I'm not even gonna comment after that, honestly. I was aware of what happened today, but watching it hits differently. No, Mercedes. This is not the way to do your job, especially when it comes to the guy who's made you win everything in the almost last decade.
That's it, disappointment won today. I'm just gonna leave it here, I'm not even gonna proofread it because I'm honestly tired as fuck, I have 5 more days to go before my next free day (and I've already worked 5 more after the last one) and this has hurt my feelings way too hard today.
Peace out.
#f1#formula 1#mercedes amg f1#scuderia ferrari#aston martin racing#haas f1 team#mclaren f1 racing#alfa romeo racing#alpine f1 team#scuderia alpha tauri#williams racing#sir lewis hamilton#george russell#charles leclerc#Carlos saint jr#sebastian vettel#lance stroll#mick schumacher#kevin Magnussen#daniel ricciardo#lando norris#zhou guanyu#valtteri bottas#esteban ocon#fernando Alonso#pierre gasly#yuki tsunoda#alex albon#nicholas latifi#dutch gp 2022
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"Here Without You"
Alright yes I know I should be writing a new chapter for SIMAM, but I have had this friggin idea in my head for SO long, and finally I had a reason to write it.
It's an entry for @storiesofsvu Bingo! The square is "Rainy Day", and I love this song. It's probably one of my favorite songs of all time. It's "Here Without You" by 3 Doors Down. I highly recommend listening to it before during or after reading.
I hope you like it. I think it's just the right amount of angst and fluff. <3
Also I'm gonna put my tag list on here, if you would not like to be tagged in my OS stuff or anything please let me know! Or if you would like to be added!
Tag List
@agentcable
@madamsnape921
@lolliepopsicle
@chasingeverybreakingwave
@milkshqke
@wanniiieeee
@gibbs274
@sassyada
@aprildecker-blog
@bookishfanfic
@stars-in-the-skies-world
@stars-trash-18
@omgsuperstarg
@objection-argumentative
@thatesqcrush
@shittanyy
@mrsrafaelbarba
@word-scribbless
@storiesofsvu
@believinghurts
----------------
It was pouring down rain as you sat in your office at SVU, everyone else had left. All the lights were off except for your desk lamp and the light from your computer as you typed up reports. Suddenly a ZOOM notification popped up:
RAFAEL BARBA WOULD LIKE TO START A ZOOM CALL
You instantly hit ACCEPT, and there was your boyfriend’s beautiful face on your computer screen.
A hundred days have made me older
Since the last time that I saw your pretty face
A thousand lies have made me colder
And I don't think I can look at this the same
But all the miles that separate
Disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face
“Hola mi amor,” His voice sounded like an angel’s chorus, you felt like you hadn’t heard it in a million years. Though to be real, it probably had only been a few days.
“Baby!” You beamed at him. He looked as tired as you felt, the exhaustion thinly veiled through a beautiful smile.
“What are you still doing at the office, carino?” He asked in concern. “I tried calling your cell, and you didn’t answer,”
You wanted to tell him the truth; that you were working long days and nights just so you didn’t have to go home to an empty apartment. The halls of Rafael’s apartment echoed with memories of you and him, just painful reminders that he wasn’t there. You had reluctantly accepted his offer to ‘watch’ his apartment when he had decided to take a ‘sabbatical’ from New York for a while. You told him it was unnecessary, he didn’t need to leave. He was acquitted of all charges, but he felt as if he was being judged by everyone, so he had exiled himself before they could.
“...Just waiting for the rain to stop,” You lied, pointing out the window at the storm outside. It was partially true, you didn’t want to walk to the subway in that mess.
I'm here without you, baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you, baby
And I dream about you all the time
I'm here without you, baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight it's only you and me, yeah
“Ah, I see,” He nodded, pretending to believe you.
He missed you so much, he kicked himself everyday for leaving New York. Mostly you. He should have asked you to come with him, not to watch his apartment. The apartment didn’t need ‘taking care of’, he did. But he didn’t want to admit that to you, so he had just taken off. He wasn’t used to having someone to be accountable to, he was used to just running away from things when they got bad.
The miles just keep rollin'
As the people leave their way to say hello
I've heard this life is overrated
But I hope that it gets better as we go, oh yeah, yeah
“I miss you,” You finally admitted, trying not to cry.
You didn’t want him to see you cry, you didn’t want him to feel guilty for leaving you. You knew he needed time, it was traumatic what he went through. Not just the trial, but the actual act of mercy killing an infant. You knew it was one of the hardest things he had ever had to do, and he was almost punished for it. You were pretty sure he was punishing himself for it, in lieu of the judicial system doing it.
I'm here without you, baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you, baby
And I dream about you all the time
I'm here without you, baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight, girl, it's only you and me
“...I miss you too,” He finally answered after a very long pause.
He could hear the tears in your voice. Your words cut him like a knife, even though he knew you had no intention of them doing so. The guilt of leaving you just built as he looked longingly at you through the computer screen.
“Where are you?” You asked, trying to change the subject. You grabbed your thermos of coffee and took a gulp, hoping to hide the tears dripping down your cheeks. You brushed them away subtly as you put the thermos down.
“Jersey,” He suddenly began to smile, revealing the real reason he was calling.
Everything I know, and anywhere I go (Oh whoa)
It gets hard but it won't take away my love (Oh whoa)
And when the last one falls
When it's all said and done
It gets hard but it won't take away my love, whoa, oh, oh
“Jersey?!” You almost yelled. You glanced at the cleaning people who had momentarily looked up at your outburst, but went back to their mopping soon enough.
“Yes, I’ll be home tomorrow night,” He continued to smile at the fact that your own smile was growing by the second.
“Really?!” You tried not to squeal. After four long months of talking through a screen or a phone, you���d finally be able to see the love of your life in person. And hug him. And kiss him. And do everything you had dreamed of while lying in his bed alone.
“Yes, mi amor,” He chuckled at your excitement. “And Y/N?”
“Yes, Raffi?”
“...I’m sorry for leaving like I did,” He said softly.
“...What?” That was the last thing you expected for him to say, you blinked at him in disbelief.
“I should have never left you,” He looked at you with his puppy dog eyes. He wanted to do this now, so when he saw you tomorrow you could be all smiles and lovey dovey.
“Oh, Rafael,” You sighed, putting a hand to the screen. “I get it, really I do,”
“I know you do,” Rafael nodded. You were the most understanding person he had ever met, it was one of the reasons he fell in love with you so fast. “But it doesn’t mean I should have done it. And I swear I will never leave you again after this,"
“...Well, it’s over now,” You gave him a small smile. “Or it will be, tomorrow,”
“Yes, tomorrow,” He smiled once again, looking out at the rain outside his own window. It was almost as if you were in the same room. Almost.
“I love you, Rafael,” Your soft voice knocked him back to reality. He turned back to the screen and gave you a loving grin.
“Te amo mi amor,” He kissed his hand and put it to the screen before ending the call.
You shut down your computer and gathered your things anxiously. Rain be damned, the sooner you got back to Rafael’s apartment the sooner you could sleep, and the sooner he’d be home.
And then you’d never have to be without him again.
I'm here without you, baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you, baby
And I dream about you all the time
I'm here without you, baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight, girl, it's only you and me, yeah
Oh girl, oh oh
#rafael barba#rafael barba angst#rafael barba fluff#rafael barba x you#rafael barba x reader#law and order svu#law and order svu fanfiction#rafael barba imagine
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Hassan
#whoa i actually almost got bingo!#but yeah this guy was literally just created so i could make a joke :P#and because i needed more background characters#and because i wanted more middle eastern representation i guess#don't get enough of that in the mcu that's for sure!#captain america#whole shards#take me in#hassan#meet my ocs
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Heavenly Creature (1)
Title: Heavenly Creature
Written for the wonderful @cockslutpadalecki‘ and her Lisas 13K Celebration. Congrats again.
My prompt was: "A stranger comes to your aid after being hit on in a bar."
Square filled for @buckybarnesbingo: B4: Metal arm
Square filled for @buckybingo (expired): Mistaken Identity
Square filled for @mcukinkbingo: N5: Using a truth serum
Rating: Mature
Summary: A stranger saves you from an unfriendly encounter. Is he a knight in shiny armor?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: heavy angst, language, unwanted touching (not Bucky), creepy guy, almost violence, plot-twist, hand around throat, non-sexual choking, kidnapping, threats, hostage situation, grey!Bucky, a hint of torture (cold water), restraints, non-consensual injection/drug use
Word count: 1399 *yay, I made it*
A/N: Due to the rules of the challenge, I had to cut the story short. This means, there will be a second part.
A/N2: Part 1/3
BBB BuckyBarnesBingo 2022 masterlist
MCU KINK BINGO masterlist
2021 BUCKY BINGO masterlist
Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics
Heavenly Creature masterlist
“Could I have the check?” you smile at the waitress at the crowded bar. Your friends dragged you out of your apartment, only to leave you hanging the moment some guys chatted them up. Now you are stranded at the bar you didn’t want to go to in the first place and must pay for their drinks too.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing at a place like this?” a guy stands a little too close for comfort while you try to cover your drink with the palm of your hand. “Do you want another drink?”
“I was about to go back to my friends' table,” he doesn’t need to know you are all alone at the bar, and that you want to leave. You point at a random table and even wave at the women at the table. They wave at one of their friends at the other end of the bar, covering your weak attempt to get rid of the guy who moves his hand to your lower back.
“They can wait,” he leans a little closer and grins as you push against his chest. You knock over your drink, cursing as the sticky liquid drops onto your brand-new shoes. “You can come to my table, and we can get to know each other better.”
“I got a boyfriend,” it’s another lie, though. All you want is to go back home and have a good night’s sleep. You just don’t want the creepy guy to follow you outside of the bar and attack you where no one will come to your aid. “He wouldn’t want me to join you at your table.”
“How about we go somewhere else and have some fun?”
“No,” you push against his shoulders, and he finally takes his hands off of you. It’s time to get the hell out of the bar. “Just leave me alone. I’m taken.”
“Can’t see a boyfriend holding your hand,” he just doesn’t seem to get it. “Don’t be like that.”
“Get away from my girlfriend,” your pulse quickens when someone wraps his arm around your shoulders. “You okay?” the man squeezes your right arm to silently tell you to play along. “Sorry for taking so long, baby doll.”
“It’s fine, babe. I already told him to get lost.”
“I guess he needs me to tell him to get lost,” the man releases you. He pecks your cheek, making you shiver before he turns around to push the creep away from you. “You, stay away from my girl. If you touch her one more time, you’ll crawl back home.”
“Whoa, buddy!” you watch your savior take a step toward the creep chatting you up. Something about the way he walks and carries himself feels familiar to you. You comb through your brain and try to remember if you saw this man before. “Sorry, I didn’t know she’s your girl.”
The man wraps his metal hand around the other man’s throat to push him against the wall, holding him there. “Now you know,” your savior growls lowly. “Never touch her again. Got it?”
Out of instinct, you place your hand on your savior’s arm to calm him.
“Please, everyone is looking,” he turns his head to glance at you and your hand on his metal arm. “They will call the cops. I don’t want you to get arrested for saving me.”
“Saving you. Right,” he releases the man’s throat to cup your chin with his metal fingers. “I saved you. Let me bring you out of here.”
“I—” you don’t know if it’s a good idea to leave the bar with a stranger, but anything is better than staying around the creep. “Some guys just don’t get the message.”
“Let’s go,” he gives you a curt nod. For a heartbeat you just stare up at the stranger saving you, to admire his handsome features. His blue eyes are soft, and still, the way he looks down at you makes you feel small and vulnerable.
“Okay.”
It feels odd to walk out of the bar next to the blue-eyed stranger. He saved you, that’s what you repeatedly tell yourself in your mind as you leave the bar behind. When you come across the dark parking lot, your pulse quickens and the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
“I should go to my car,” the stranger doesn’t know that you didn’t drive to the bar yourself. “Well, thank you again. It was kind of you to—” the scream wanting to escape your throat gets stopped by his metal fist closing around your throat.
“W-hy?” you croak, fighting his hold on your throat. You tug at his wrist and wiggle in his grip but it’s no use. He’s so much stronger than you.
Your vision becomes blurry, and tears roll down your cheeks as your savior presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Don’t worry doll. You will get to know soon enough.” He licks over your cheek. “All of them knew in the end…”
“Where?” you slowly blink your eyes open. Your eyelids feel heavy, and your throat is sore. “What?” confused you try to get up, only to fall back to the cold ground, crying out in pain as a chain around your left ankle holds you to the floor.
You look around the cold room, wondering what happened after you left the bar. Your brain is still a little foggy and you need a moment to fully wake.
Flashbacks of the bar hit you. The stranger saving you, his metal hand around your throat, and then…darkness.
“Rise and shine, sunshine,” the stranger from the bar purrs, and you jump up, forgetting you are still chained to the ground. “Aw, slow down, doll. You will get yourself worked up. I want you in one piece for what comes next.”
“No, please,” you try to crawl away as the man steps toward you, a syringe in his flesh hand. “Please. Why are you doing this? I thought you are a good man.”
“I was,” he crouches down to cup your chin with his metal hand. He forces you to look him in the eyes as he rams the needle in your neck. “There you go, doll.” His voice turns soft, and you choke out a sob.
He looks like an angel, but his cold eyes and the way his metal hand moves back to your throat tell you he’s far from being a good man, or an angel.
“Please…don’t.”
“Shush, now doll,” he leans close enough to press another kiss to your temple. “You will tell me anything I need to know.”
“Truth?”
“I gave you a nice drug Stark invented. Truth serum Mark 8. It will help you relax and tell me everything I need to know to bring the rest of Hydra down with my new friends. You are the last puzzle piece,” he whispers in your ear, waiting for you to fall against his chest.
“So tired,” humming the stranger pats your head. He waits for your breathing to slow. “I wanna sleep now, please. Let me go home.”
“You will never go home again, doll. Everyone working for Hydra will die. This includes you…”
You wake tied to a chair as someone pours ice-cold water over your body. “Please,” you cry, choking on the cold water.
“What’s your name?” you blink at him for a moment. Your lips start to move on their own as you stare into his blue eyes.
“Y/N Y/L/N.”
“How old are you?”
“I’m Y/A old.”
“What do you think about me?” he crouches down next to the chair to place his hand on your thigh. “Answer me.”
“You’re handsome. I like your eyes, your lips, your hair,” you monotonously reply. “I would like to have sex with you.”
“What was your position within Hydra?” squeezing your thigh he looks up at you. He frowns as you seem to think hard about his question. “Answer me.”
“I’m a librarian,” he huffs at your answer. “I worked all my life at the library in Brooklyn. I never worked for Hydra.”
“Stark, you told me this will work!”
“It does,” you hear another voice-over loudspeaker. “What’s your favorite sex position?”
“Missionary.”
“Why doesn’t she answer my question about Hydra then, Stark?”
“Buck, I think we got the wrong girl,” a third voice says as you drift into darkness again…
>> Part 2
Tags in reblog.
#Heavenly Creature#feelingluckychallenge#buckybingo#bbb2022#buckybarnesbingo2022#mcukinkbingo#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#angst#tw: kidnapping
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My bingo card looks like a hot mess with all these random x's lol.
Rescuing Each Other
Classes tonight had thankfully not dragged on for too long. What put Stiles in a sour mood wasn’t the time. No, it was that he parked all the way at the end of the lot and it was pouring when he got out. So he gets to drive back to his apartment soaked.
Halfway home, Stiles sees one of the worst things possible and pulls over. Suddenly no longer caring about the rain drenching him. Not when there’s a poor, black dog chained to a power line near the deserted back road. His heart breaks in his chest when he steps closer and the animal growls a whimper at him.
“Whoa,” Stiles speaks carefully, holding both hands up. Bending a little to make himself seem smaller and not a threat he continues, “I don’t want to hurt you. Okay?” The dog whines but doesn't snap his teeth. So Stiles inches closer, his hand just above its ears. “I just want to let you go. Maybe I could take you home. Get you some food, huh?”
The dog perks up, seemingly familiar with the word. Cautiously, it lifts its head to let themself be pet.
“Okay, good,” Stiles gasps, scratching the wet furry ears. Grabbing the clasp, he unhooks it, letting the chain fall to the mud. But the metal collar won’t budge and it looks like it’s biting into the dog’s skin. Standing up he says, “when we get home I’ll figure out how to get that off of you. Come on, girl?”
The animal growls.
“Boy, got it. Come on then, boy, let’s go.” Stiles opens the passenger door for the dog to hop in. Closing the door, he rounds the jeep and gets back in the driver’s seat, taking them home.
Once inside his apartment, Stiles heads straight for the bathroom. The dog dutifully following behind. “You need a bath, you’ve got mud all over.” Stiles bends to turn the water on and plug the drain, “I promise I’ll make it quick.”
The animal growls a little, but hops in, whining when the metal shifts.
“Oh! Stay here,” Stiles jumps up, “I’ve got bolt cutters, let me get that off of you.” Running to the laundry room, he digs in the tool set his father made him get, finding the cutters. Beside it is a small cardboard box with the name Delilah written in black marker; his childhood dog that passed away. Her collar would probably be much more comfortable.
When he gets back in the bathroom, the dog is sitting in an almost full tub and the water’s off. “Did- did you turn the water off?” The dog barks once. “Okay, I have a genius dog. That’s fucking cool. Stay still,” he kneels down, pocketing the collar for now, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
It takes several snips, but the dog sits still the entire time and eventually the metal collar is cut away. It earns Stiles a lick to his cheek. After bathing the dog and taking a shower himself, he tries to put the new collar on and he gets snarled at again.
“Hey, this will be a lot more comfortable than that monstrosity.” Stiles tries again, “and if you get out it has a chip so that I can find you and bring you back home.” With a huff, the dog bares his throat. “Thank you,” Stiles sighs, clicking the leather in place. “Perfect,” he scratches the dog’s ears and face, “let’s eat. And I don’t know about you, but I need sleep.”
He makes two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with the promise to get him proper food the next morning. And figure out what to name him. After eating, Stiles curls up in bed with his dog right beside him.
Ever since the Nogitsune happened, Stiles has had really bad nightmares. He screams himself awake. Drenched in a cold sweat, crying, while his heart pounds painfully in his chest. No sooner are Stiles’ eyes opened does the dog whine. Shuffling closer, he puts his paws on Stiles’ chest as he licks away the tears.
Stiles reaches out and wraps his arms around his dog, petting him. When his breathing has calmed and the tears have ceased, the dog lays its head on his chest, rumbling softly. “And here I thought I was the one saving you. How could someone abandon a dog as sweet as you? Thank you.” His dog nuzzles closer and Stiles falls back to sleep.
When he wakes up in the morning, Stiles’ face is pressed in a hard chest and strong arms are wrapped around him. Screaming, he flails out of bed, twisting himself in the blanket, crashing to the floor.
“Shit,” the naked man curses under his breath.
“Who the fuck are you?” Stiles yells, popping his head over the mattress only to be met with the still very naked man. Good god. “How did you get in here?” Stiles pinches his eyes closed and blindly digs through his dresser, hopefully grabbing a shirt and sweats. He throws it in the general direction of his bed. An oomph tells him he hit his mark.
“Please don’t freak out, but you brought me home.”
“I thought I brought home a dog! You’re a fucking werewolf too? Nemetons are supposed to be beacons for supernatural creatures, not me!” He whines, standing up and thankfully the guy is dressed. “Oh,” Stiles blushes hard, the too tight shirt clinging to his muscles. Brown hair that keeps flopping in front of his blue eyes. A smirk plastered to a cut jaw. And the collar, still secured around his neck. “Fuck,” he swallows thickly.
“I’m a werecoyote,” he says, pulling at the collar but making no move to take it off. “My name’s Theo,” he offers his hand.
Tentatively, Stiles shakes it, “Stiles.”
“You know about the supernatural?”
“My best friend is an Alpha,” he says, sitting on the edge of his bed. Theo points as if asking if he can too, Stiles nods. “Why were you chained like that? I’m sorry if it’s sensitive, but I have a right to know. I did just wake up to you lying next to me naked and all.”
Theo’s eyes instantly well up, he sniffles, turning away to try and hide it, “my best friend found out that I could shift. Tracy told me that it was cool and that she didn’t have a problem with it, that she still loved me. A week after she found out, she asked me to shift in front of her. So I did. She called me a monster, wrapped a wolfsbane infused collar around my neck and chained me on the side of the road. That was two days ago. The wolfsbane kept me from shifting back.”
“So why didn’t you when I took it off? Sure, it would’ve been hard to explain if I didn’t know about the supernatural
“You were the first car in two days to stop. Y-you took me home, fed me. I-” Theo sighs, running his hands through his hair. Blue eyes lock on his with complete sincerity, “I would’ve happily stayed as my coyote if it meant that I had someone looking after me like I wasn’t a monster. I must've just done it in my sleep.” The coyote huffs out a laugh, “you told me that you cared if I would’ve gotten lost and wanted a way to find me. No one has said that to me. Or at least meant it when they did.”
Stiles’ heart is cracking in his chest. Realizing that when he woke up from his nightmare that it was a sentient person comforting him. Theo taking care of him the same way he took care of Theo. He himself remembers being a scared little boy thinking that everyone was going to leave him. And in that moment, he decides he’ll never do that to Theo. “You really never would’ve shifted back? Just to stay with me?”
“A gorgeous guy saving me in the rain and giving me a home? Telling me that I save him just as much when all I did was cuddle him from a nightmare?” Theo scoffs with a smile, “I’d have never walked on two legs again.”
Stiles stares at the collar around his neck, reeling over someone like Theo calling him gorgeous. Flicking his eyes back up to broken blue ones on a sad face that he just wants to shower with kisses until he smiles again. “Well, two legs or four, you can stay.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah,” Stiles shrugs, “even as a coyote you were pretty good company. It’ll be nice for you to actually be able to talk back.” He gets up from the bed, “I’m gonna make breakfast, you comin’?” Theo eyes him for a minute with a smile and Stiles’ gaze finds the collar again, “you don’t have to keep that on, you know.”
Theo’s hand comes up to the collar, stroking it with his thumb, “what if I want to?” He asks softly.
“Then that’s okay, too,” Stiles holds his hand out and Theo takes it, heading to the kitchen to make breakfast.
#teen wolf#steo#stiles stilinski#theo raeken#theo x stiles#steospooktober#steospooktober vol.3#square: abandoned#Match Writes
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for your arms are my lifeline: a tarlos fic
Where Carlos and TK are looking forward to their first lunch at Andrea and Gabriel’s place, TK a little nervous but both of them excited. The day, however, is quickly turned upside down when Carlos starts showing symptoms of an allergic reaction he didn’t have before.
for bad things happen bingo: tarlos + hurts to breathe
hurt carlos reyes, worried tk strand, paramedic tk, hurt/comfort, emotional/hurt comfort, kisses, whump, comfort
6.9k | rated T | on ao3
(inspired by maddie’s pink skies will keep me warm)
*****
“Ready?” Carlos asks over his shoulder, standing by the front door and slipping his wallet into a back pocket of his jeans.
“Be right there!” He hears TK yelling from their bedroom upstairs.
Carlos hears shuffling moments later, followed by TK appearing on the top of the staircase and rapid footsteps thumping to the bottom.
“Easy, babe, we’re in no immediate rush,” Carlos lightly chuckles, directing his comment at the fact that TK took two steps at a time coming down.
“Just don’t want to be late to your parents’,” TK replies.
Carlos shakes his head. “We’re ahead of time. But what would really make us late is if you took a tumble down those stairs and we’d have to visit the ER,” he teases.
TK playfully rolls his eyes at Carlos. He knows he’s right, though, that if anyone can get hurt walking or, in this case, leaping down a staircase, it’s him.
And Carlos knows all-too well just how strong of a danger magnet his boyfriend is.
“I think we’ll even be a little early,” the officer continues.
TK unconsciously looks himself up and down, and Carlos knows he was doing the exact thing upstairs in front of the mirror a minute ago.
“Hey,” Carlos says softly, placing both hands on TK’s shoulder and following his gaze so TK looks into his mesmerizing brown eyes. “You look amazing. I’m positive my mother is going to compliment you on your outfit.”
TK shrugs, shoving his hands into his front jeans pockets. “I’m just nervous, I guess. It’s the first time we’re going over to their place and I want it to be perfect.”
“It will be,” Carlos promises. “I know they’re very excited to have us over.”
TK visibly relaxes and some of the tension seeps out of his shoulders.
Carlos moves closer to TK and closes the distance between them with a soft kiss to his lips.
TK smiles against Carlos’s kiss, returning it.
“Come on,” Carlos says when they separate, grabbing the container filled with chocolate chip cookies that they had baked for Andrea and Gabriel.
TK is on his heels, fetching the bouquet of a collection of beautiful flowers he bought for Andrea as they both step out of their home.
TK feels the nerves start to brew again the closer they get to their destination. He tries to swallow it down, but unconsciously starts bouncing his leg up and down while staring out of the window, watching as the crowded heart of Austin disappears in the rearview mirror, gradually replaced with wide, open fields.
Carlos notices and he reaches for TK’s hand with his right one, eyes fixed on the road and gives him a supportive squeeze.
“It’s going to be great,” Carlos reassures him.
TK spots the beautiful house from down the street as Carlos slows down the Camaro. He’s immediately engulfed with warmth as he steps out once the car is parked, and there’s so much history and so many memories engraved in the wood of this house, TK can tell, and it takes his breath away.
They walk side by side until they reach the front steps, and TK can practically feel Carlos buzzing with excitement and joy next to him.
The steps leading to the front door are decorated with flowers and he easily spots the porch swing sitting in the corner of the porch, no doubt carrying many stories.
Carlos watches with a smile as TK admires the entrance before turning to face him.
“Carlos, it’s absolutely beautiful,” TK awes.
Carlos nods, memories of his own rushing through his head.
The door is flung open moments later, revealing a very happy looking Andrea Reyes, her eyes immediately landing on Carlos and TK.
“Hola, boys,” she starts. “Mira, you both look so handsome.” And then to Carlos, “you could have rung the doorbell, you know.”
Carlos chuckles, nodding. “I was about to, TK was just admiring the porch and entrance.”
“It’s really beautiful, Mrs. Reyes,” TK smiles, his nerves slightly visible on his features. “And these are for you.” He holds out the pretty bouquet.
“Oh, TK,” Andrea says softly. “Thank you.” She accepts the flowers and pulls TK into a tender hug. “For both the compliment and the flowers. They’re beautiful. And I know just which vase to use.”
“Of course, it’s the least I could do,” TK replies, returning the hug.
Andrea looks at her son once she and TK separate. “Carlitos,” she beams, wrapping her arms around his muscular frame.
“Hi, Ma,” Carlos returns the hug with one arm, the other hand holding the container of cookies. “Thank you for having us.”
“We’re happy to have you,” Andrea responds and ushers them into the house. “Now, come on. Food is almost ready. I made some of your favorite dishes.”
TK is enveloped with more feelings of home once he steps into the house. It’s simple yet complex in different ways. The walls around hold various shelves, each covered in either family photos or neatly organized books. The house is so lived-in, and TK can feel the memories in the air, can feel the love this space holds. He can picture Carlos as a toddler, running around these very walls, laughter echoing through the house as his parents play with him. Or a young Carlos sitting on the dining table, working on a project with Andrea and Gabriel close as they watch him with pride. And even a family movie night, the Reyes’s watching a comedy together, laughing until their stomachs hurt and tears roll down their cheeks. Because in every way, this house feels like joy.
He follows Carlos and Andrea into the backyard, where he sees Gabriel get up from his seat to greet them.
“Hey, boys,” Gabriel smiles. “Carlitos,” Gabriel gives Carlos a hug.
“Hi, dad,” Carlos smiles back.
“Good to see you, TK,” Gabriel extends a hand to the paramedic once he and Carlos pull away.
“You, too, Mr. Reyes,” TK shakes the Ranger’s hand.
“Time to eat,” Andrea announces, returning with the flowers in a vase, which she places in the middle of the dining table.
Carlos immediately recognizes the vase as one he bought his mother as a birthday gift a couple of years ago and his smile widens.
“Let me help you,” TK says.
Andrea gives him an appreciative nod.
“And I’ll set the table,” Carlos adds and steps into the house after them, grabbing the placemats and cutlery from where they’ve always been.
TK reappears a few minutes later, holding a salad bowl and a large plate of tacos. Andrea joins them with a fish dish and bowl of tortilla chips.
“It smells and looks delicious, Mrs. Reyes,” TK smiles.
“TK, please, it’s Andrea,” she replies. “And I hope you enjoy the food.”
They all fall into easy conversation as they being serving their food and sitting around the table, Carlos and TK side by side across from Andrea and Gabriel. They catch up as Carlos and TK tell Andrea and Gabriel about their shifts and calls, moving back and forth between talking about their work and personal lives, which lead into other stories about childhoods and revivals of memories.
TK is telling them about a call the 126 got when Carlos starts zoning out of the conversation, feeling a little off about halfway into their meal.
It starts with a small cough, Carlos clearing his throat after a couple of times. But it leads to some more coughing.
“You okay, Carlitos?” Andrea asks, concerned.
Carlos nods. “I’m fine, I think a chip just got lodged in my throat.” He reaches for his water, taking a careful sip.
He draws in a deep breath, which only intensifies the coughing and TK watches him carefully, starting to get rigid and tense at the unexplained and sudden coughing fit which doesn’t seem to be easing and he can hear a light wheeze coming from Carlos. Something doesn’t seem right and he’s about to say something when the coughing finally subsides. TK holds back, but keeps an eye on Carlos during the remainder of their meal.
They soon start to clean up, TK about to help Andrea with returning the food to the kitchen when Carlos start coughing again. TK frowns, moving closer to his boyfriend.
“Carlos, what’s going on?”
And just like that, the atmosphere in the room turns heavy and tense.
“I’m okay, I’ll just step outside for some fresh air. It will pass,” Carlos decides and moves to the backyard, feeling TK and his parents’ gaze on him.
TK’s eyes remain on the door long after Carlos disappears on the other side, and he’s pulled back by Andrea’s voice.
“Lets pack the leftovers in boxes and we’ll check on Carlos. You boys can take some food home with you, too.”
They return to the living room just as the backyard door slides open and TK turns his attention to Carlos, who’s stepping back inside, looking shaky.
“Carlos?” TK calls out, frowning and instinctively starts to move towards his boyfriend.
The worried call of their son’s name pulls Andrea and Gabriel’s attention as they both turn to look at the two men.
“TK…”
“Hey, what’s wrong?” TK asks, getting closer.
Carlos shrugs. “Not sure, but something is not right.”
TK’s heart drops when Carlos sways to the side, knees and legs unbalanced and its thanks to TK’s quick reflexes that Carlos isn’t currently toppling to the ground.
“Whoa, hey, hey,” TK rushes to steady the taller man with a strong hold, his hands reaching out and latching onto Carlos’s shoulders. He feels Carlos grow even weaker in his grip and it’s up to TK to carry Carlos’s weight and help him over to the nearby couch.
Andrea and Gabriel, wearing identical looks of concern, are by their side now as TK gently lowers Carlos on the soft cushion and crouches in front of him.
“Hey, Carlos,” TK says, trying to keep his voice calm for Carlos’s sake but some of his own panic cracks through. “Talk to me, baby. What are you feeling?”
Carlos shakes his head, a hand going to clutch at his chest. “I…I can’t…chest is tight, hurts to breathe,” he wheezes out.
TK can see Andrea and Gabriel share a worried look from the corner of his eye but he keeps his attention on Carlos, going into first responder mode as the paramedic in him springs to life.
“Okay, okay,” TK nods, taking Carlos’s free hand that’s sitting in his lap and gives it a light squeeze. “I know it’s not easy but I need you to try and breathe slowly and evenly for me, okay?”
Carlos replies with a shaky nod.
“Okay, just breathe with me. You’re okay, I got you,” TK reassures Carlos.
Carlos keeps his eyes glued to TK’s, following the younger man’s instructions and letting him guide his breathing. The panic had started to subside a little, courtesy of TK’s presence and touch, but it still felt like a weight is crushing Carlos’s chest and lungs.
Once he thinks he can talk again, Carlos opens his mouth. “Chest…on fire,” he manages to say around a sniffle. “I feel sick.”
TK nods, gently taking Carlos’s face in his hands and tilting it upwards a little, his gut feeling confirmed when he registers Carlos’s red and watery eyes and now-flushed cheeks, as well as his slightly swollen face. After the quick survey of Carlos’s presenting symptoms, TK sighs.
“You’re having an allergic reaction,” TK states.
Carlos’s eyes go wide at that, the panic from earlier returning full force and starts stirring hotly in his gut, his stomach churning.
TK immediately picks up on that and is quick to reassure Carlos. “Hey, hey, Carlos, it’s okay. Stay with me. I need you to try to calm down. I know it’s scary but we can’t have you hyperventilate. Breathe. Slowly, in and out.”
TK breathes with Carlos for a few moments, and once satisfied that Carlos is okay, TK turns to his parents.
“Is there an epipen around?” He asks, grabbing his phone from the nearby dining table.
Andrea shakes her head. “No one in the family has allergies, that we know of.”
TK can sense the fear in her voice, knowing she’s staying calm for Carlos’s sake as well, and TK can see the fright in the way her eyes instantly go back to her son when she’s done answering, her eyebrows knitted together.
Gabriel wraps an arm around his wife’s shoulder, pulling her closer into his side and she goes easily, leaning into his touch and against his body.
TK knows he’s offering her, and himself, comfort, and TK can see his own feelings of helplessness and worry mirrored back at him through Carlos’s parents.
TK turns back to Carlos as he dials 911, putting it on speaker. “You’re okay, babe. I got you, we got you,” he hopes his voice is steadier than how it sounds to his own ears.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
TK could cry with relief at the familiar voice on the other side of the line. “Grace, it’s TK. Carlos is having an allergic reaction, unknown cause. We’re at his parents’ and there’s no epipen,” he explains, giving her the address next.
“I’m dispatching the nearest ambulance. It’s the 126, they’ll be there in three minutes,” Grace replies. “How’s Carlos doing?”
TK swallows against his dry throat before responding. “His breathing is slow and shallow and,” he places two fingers on Carlos’s neck, “his pulse is weaker than I like but he’s hanging in there.”
TK’s hand finds Carlos’s hand then and he gives it a reassuring squeeze.
Carlos feebly turns his head to the side as his mother moves closer to him. Andrea reaches out, placing a hand on the nape of Carlos’s neck and gently runs her palm up and down there. The movement helps comfort Carlos, just as it did when he was a little boy.
Carlos attempts to give his mother a calming smile, but it’s trembly and uneven. She smiles back and blinks, keeping her tears at bay.
Carlos then focuses on TK and tries to push aside the burning sensation in his chest. But it’s painful and he feels more dread build in his stomach. He can see TK’s lips moving but the words don’t quite reach his ears. Carlos feels like he’s in a haze, everything a blur around him and moving in slow motion.
“Focus on my voice, ‘Los,” TK’s words finally begin to filter through. “We’re all here, you’re okay. Help is almost here.”
The officer looks directly into TK’s eyes, ignoring the way his eyes itch and how he just wants to close them for a minute. He’s so tired, he’s exhausted really and he just wants to rest for a little bit.
“He’s starting to fade, Grace,” TK says, voice filled with terror.
The next thing Carlos hears is TK’s voice laced with panic and alarm, the paramedic not concealing it anymore.
“No, no, you have to stay awake, Carlos. Open your eyes for me,” TK pleads, his own eyes blown wide with worry.
His heart breaking at the fear and pain coating TK’s voice, and wanting to wash it away, Carlos fights through the fatigue and peels his eyelids open, finding TK’s concerned face amid the fog that is his vision.
“That’s it, stay with me,” TK visibly relaxes a notch and cups Carlos’s face, caressing his cheek with the pad of his thumb. It’s only then that TK realizes his hands are shaking.
Carlos leans into TK’s palm, the warmth and comfort grounding him, TK’s touch his lifeline.
The wailing of sirens fill the air a few moments later and TK is speaking to Grace again.
“They’re here, Grace.”
“Okay, go take care of your man. Let me know how he’s doing,” Grace replies.
“Thanks, Grace. I will.”
Carlos wasn’t even aware that Grace was still on the line as TK hangs up.
“I’ll go lead them inside,” Gabriel speaks up, and rushes to the front door.
The Texas Ranger returns less than a minute later, the paramedics right behind him, carrying their equipment. TK relaxes some more upon seeing his team arrive, getting up and standing next to the couch, still holding Carlos’s hand as Tommy and Nancy approach.
“Hey, guys,” Tommy gives them a small smile.
“Hey, Cap, Nancy.”
“Carlos, how are you doing?” Tommy asks in her calm tone, kneeling down where TK was moments ago.
“Okay,” Carlos croaks out.
Tommy gently pushes the stethoscope around Carlos’s chest, listening intently as Nancy starts taking his vitals.
TK shares a look with Andrea and Gabriel as Tommy and Nancy work in unison, their collective worry tangible and dominant in the air around them. Andrea’s arm snakes around her husband’s waist, seeking his comfort and TK knows she’s also giving Gabriel some of her own strength. He gives them a reassuring smile, strong and steady now, because it’s all going to be okay. His team is here now, taking care of Carlos. He’s going to be okay.
Gabriel understands, and gives TK a nod in response.
They turn their attentions back to Carlos and the paramedics when Nancy speaks, words directed to her Captain.
“His heart rate and respirations are low, Cap.”
Tommy nods, and accepts the epipen Nancy had ready.
TK finds himself smiling at watching his team work, they really all have become a well-oiled machine and they don’t need words to ask or to do anything, they’re all on the same page, the same line, always.
“Just a little pinch,” Tommy tells Carlos as she readiest the epipen and administers the medication.
The tension in the room starts evaporating when Carlos finally draws in a shaky, but full breath, and lets it out slowly. He coughs a couple of times, and TK places a hand on his back, rubbing his palm there in even circles to help ease the coughing fit.
“That’s it, baby,” TK speaks. “Take slow, deep breaths.”
When every breath Carlos lets out is followed by a series of coughs, Nancy moves to take his oxygen level.
“Oxygen level is a bit low, Cap.”
“Okay, let’s get you into the ambulance, Carlos,” Tommy decides.
Carlos turns to look at TK, his eyes wide and questioning.
“Just to give you some oxygen to get your level back to normal,” TK answers.
“I’ll go get everything ready,” Nancy says, grabbing the medkit and heads outside.
TK helps Carlos get up, and he and Gabriel support him as he walks on wobbly legs, slowly making their way to the rig.
A little dizzy and lightheaded with his legs feeling like jell-o, Carlos holds on as tightly as he can to his boyfriend and father, squinting his eyes at the harsh sunlight outside.
His eyes adapt by the time he’s being lowered to sit on the edge of the rig, Nancy already moving to place the oxygen mask over his face and he welcomes the fresh air being fed into his nose.
His muscles start to relax as he works on his even breathing, and TK sighs in relief. He can already see some of the redness has begun going away and the swelling has been reduced. He gives him a warm smile when Carlos looks at him.
“I don’t understand,” Andrea looks at TK. “Carlitos doesn’t have any allergies. He’d had this lunch so many times before. It’s been a while, though, so I thought it would be nice to make it for you both.”
TK nods. “Allergies are a mysterious thing. They can develop at any time, and even with foods that didn’t cause any before. It’s not unheard of. And it can happen during adulthood, too.”
“What did he eat?” Comes Tommy’s question.
“He had fish and chips and some black bean salad,” TK replies.
Tommy nods. “It’s probably the fish. It’s one of the most common allergies people have or develop.”
Carlos deflates a little at that, disappointment settling at the knowledge that he may not be able to have one of his favorite dishes anymore.
Andrea picks up on her son’s disapproval. “It’s okay, mijo. There’s plenty other dishes I’ll make for you and TK.”
Carlos gives her a small but grateful smile through the oxygen mask.
The mask stays on Carlos’s face for a few more minutes and then Nancy is taking his vitals again, smiling at the results.
“All good now,” she nods. “Everything is back to normal.”
TK steps forward, removing the oxygen mask and hands it back to Nancy. “How are you feeling, babe?”
“Much better,” Carlos replies.
“Good,” TK says before brushing a kiss to Carlos’s temple.
“Take it easy for the rest of the day, Carlos,” Tommy advises. “You might feel a little tired and worn out and that’s normal. Just rest.”
“We’ll take care of him and make sure he rests,” Gabriel reassures Tommy, looking more at ease.
“Thank you, Captain Vega, Nancy,” Carlos nods at the women.
“Glad you’re feeling better, man,” Nancy replies.
Gabriel helps Carlos back inside after saying their goodbyes while TK hangs back, Andrea staying with him, as Tommy and Nancy gather their equipment and drive off after another round of goodbyes and thank yous.
TK turns to head back inside when Andrea calling his name stops him. He turns to face her, and she’s looking at him with appreciation and approval.
“Thank you, for how you handled this whole thing,” Andrea clarifies. “You really did a great job keeping Carlitos calm and awake. He felt safe, and it’s all thanks to you.”
“Oh, that was nothing, Mrs. Reyes, I would do anything and everything I could to make sure he’s okay.”
“That was everything, TK,” Andrea corrects. “I know how scary that was, and I could see how it was affecting you but you pushed through that, you controlled that and you made sure Carlos was okay.”
TK drops his head, a hand going to scratch at the hair on the base of his head.
Andrea places a hand on TK’s shoulder. “Which brings me to my question, are you okay?”
TK hesitates for a moment, contemplating saying he’s fine but he knows Andrea will be able to see through it, the same way Carlos would.
TK sighs. “I’m a little shaken,” he raises his head and catches Andrea’s gaze. “It was scary, but I knew I had to put that fear aside, that it couldn’t cloud me and my abilities. I could help Carlos, I knew that beyond a doubt. I’m a paramedic, I know what to do in this situation, I’ve done it before, but it was a million times harder this time.”
“Because it was the man you’re in love with who was in danger,” Andrea adds.
TK nods.
“Just let me tell you this one thing.”
TK stays silent, watching Andrea.
“That fear, don’t push it aside anymore. Don’t bottle it up. The worst is over, Carlitos is fine. You can feel it now, don’t let yourself hold it back. And just as Carlos being in danger hurts, knowing he’s fine, seeing him and holding him will make it better. It will ease that pain and make the fear go away little by little.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Reyes,” TK gives Andrea a smile, knowing he’s right from his own experience.
Andrea returns it, giving TK’s shoulder a squeeze. “Come on now, let’s go back inside. Carlos will think we’re plotting something or another.”
TK chuckles and follows Andrea inside the house.
Carlos looks up from where he’s sitting on the couch, this time looking far more relaxed and not in pain.
“Everything okay?” He asks with a small frown.
“Everything’s good,” TK replies, planting a kiss to Carlos’s forehead. “So glad you’re doing better, baby.”
“Thanks to you,” Carlos says, immediately gravitating towards his boyfriend once TK is sitting next to him.
“You know I’ll always do anything to make sure you’re okay,” TK intertwines their fingers together and rests their joined hands in his lap.
A wide smile spreads on Andrea’s face as she watches the heartwarming exchange between her boys, her heart swelling in her chest at the sight of Carlos resting his head on TK’s shoulder and TK gently running his thumb over Carlos’s knuckles.
It’s so simple yet so deep and those small gestures speak volumes she can hear. She feels their love, the comfort they give each other, and sees the way they’re tangled together and have become one.
And in her heart, Andrea knows her son has found his one in TK. And from what she’s witnessing, TK has found his one in Carlos, too.
She quietly ushers her husband into the kitchen, busying themselves there to give Carlos and TK some time to themselves.
They make their way into the backyard some time later, using their kitchen door so they wouldn’t disturb Carlos and TK. They could hear them chatting in low voices, Carlos’s tone still raspy and heavy but much better in comparison to an hour earlier.
They go quiet a little while later, and Andrea turns to see TK closing the sliding door a few minutes after.
“He fell asleep,” TK tells Andrea and Gabriel, who nod in response.
“Here, grab a seat, TK,” Gabriel points to the chair on Andrea’s side.
TK walks over and drops into it, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.
“Would you like some fresh lemonade?” Andrea asks.
“Oh, sure, that would be great,” TK smiles.
Andrea pours him a generous amount and then hands the cup over.
“Thank you, ma’am,” TK gratefully accepts it and takes a sip, relishing in the cool drink and the way it runs down his throat. “This is so good.”
Andrea chuckles. “Drink up. There’s plenty more in the kitchen. It’s kind of a signature drink around here. We always have lemonade.”
“We can have some cookies too when Carlos wakes up,” TK suggests.
“Of course,” Andrea nods.
They all settle in comfortable silence, sipping their lemonades as the sun begins to descend above them, painting the sky in streaks of red, orange and yellow, all morphing together with each blink.
TK opens a recent text thread, sending a message to Grace updating her about Carlos before locking his phone and leaning back in his seat. He feels heavy, his body and muscles almost weighting him down and he tries to get more comfortable, tries to erase the discomfort in his chest by making sure his body is at ease. He knows Carlos is okay, but the attack earlier is still eating at him, and he’s worried. He supposes it’s going to take a few days for him to feel better about it, but in this moment, all he can feel and think about is the way Carlos had gotten weaker in his grip. How Carlos was slipping away from him, and the sheer helplessness that had washed over him as it happened. He knew he gave Carlos all he could, did all he could for him, but part of TK was terrified that it might not have been enough. And even now, being just mere feet away that TK would hear Carlos if he so much as stirs, is still too far for TK.
His leg starts bouncing, his nervous energy palpable in the way the bobbing increases and hands busying themselves with the cup in his grip.
Clearing his throat, he sets the cup down and gets to his feet. “I’ll be right back, I just need to check on Carlos.”
Andrea and Gabriel nod knowingly, reading between the lines of TK’s words.
“You’re a good man, TK,” Andrea says when TK returns to his seat, looking a little better after checking on Carlos. “We really couldn’t be happier you and our Carlitos found each other.”
A big smile breaks on TK’s face. “That really means everything. He saved me, he truly did.”
“You saved him, too,” Gabriel says. “In so many ways.”
Andrea nods. “You brought him back to us. We didn’t know then, but now we do. He fell in love with you and you breathed fresh air into him.”
“His love made me better, made me better. My world was grey when my dad and I moved here, and Carlos brought color back into my life,” TK expresses, his heart singing with the amount of love he has for his boyfriend.
Andrea reaches out, clasping TK’s hands with her own and gives him a smile that speaks a thousand words, a smile that shows how incredibly grateful and blessed she feels at Carlos finding TK, at her son finding a love so pure, so powerful and beautiful with TK. The love she always dreamed her son would find.
“You found each other,” Andrea proclaims with joy coating her voice.
Gabriel nods, giving TK a soft smile.
TK’s chest fills with warmth and gratitude, Andrea and Gabriel’s words anchoring him and steadying him and it dawns on him then that he has found the rest of his family in the two people sitting across from him.
*****
The sun has set and the stars twinkle against the dark sky when Carlos emerges from the living room.
“Carlitos,” Gabriel lights up at the sight of his son.
“Hi,” Carlos’s attempt to smile ends up turning into a yawn, which he stifles.
“Here,” TK grabs a chair and places it next to his.
Carlos takes his mother’s hand and gives it a light squeeze as he passes her and then carefully lowers himself into the chair next to TK.
“How long have I been asleep?”
“A little over an hour,” TK replies. “You needed it.”
“Let me go get you a cup of fresh lemonade, mijo,” Andrea says as she gets up.
“Ma,” Carlos tries but trails off when Andrea lifts a knowing eyebrow at him. He knows enough to not argue with Andrea Reyes. “Thanks, Ma,” he smiles.
“A refill, TK?”
“Oh, sure, Mrs. Reyes, that would be great,” TK nods, handing her his cup.
She gives TK a pointed look. “Now what have we said about that?”
TK smiles, a little color smearing his cheeks. “Thank you, Andrea.”
“Much better,” she smiles at TK before heading towards the kitchen.
“Get what I mean about the first names?” Carlos whispers to TK.
TK nods, a little chuckle escaping his lips. “How are you feeling?”
“A little out of it, my whole body feels like jelly and my head is buzzing.”
“Yeah, it was a pretty rough reaction. You should be feeling better by the morning.”
Andrea returns with a tray, the cups filled to the brim, plus a big plate covered with the cookies and four smaller plates.
“Oh, the cookies!” Carlos smiles, excitement clear in his tired voice.
“We wanted to wait for you to wake up before eating them,” TK says, accepting his and Carlos’s filled cups.
Andrea helps everyone to the cookies, but Carlos and TK wait on eating theirs until they get Andrea and Gabriel’s reactions.
“Oh, boys, this is wonderful,” Andrea admires after a few bites.
“So good,” Gabriel agrees.
Carlos beams. “TK and I made them together.”
TK chuckles, shaking his head. “He’s being generous, he did most of the work.”
“You helped a lot, TK,” Carlos interjects. He seeks TK’s hand, and connects their fingers, gazing into green irises he could happily get lost in for days. “This was a team effort. We’re a team.”
“We do make a pretty good team,” TK smiles.
“Yes, we do,” Carlos nods fondly and brushes a kiss to TK’s cheek.
The four of them slip into light conversation, nibbling at the cookies and drinking lemonade until the cookies are almost finished and the lemonade has been consumed.
With another suppressed yawn from the officer, Carlos and TK decide to call it a night.
After a quick silent exchange between Andrea and Gabriel, Andrea speaks. “You can stay.”
It’s Carlos and TK’s turn to share a glance.
“I can fix up Carlos’s room real quick and you can spend the night here. I don’t think either of you are in any condition to be driving,” she points out, seeing how shaken TK is as well, and after another look with Gabriel, she adds, “and we’d feel better if you stayed.”
“We wouldn’t want to cause any commotion,” TK says nervously.
“Nonsense,” Andrea shakes her head. “We’d love it if you stayed.”
Another look between Carlos and TK has Carlos smiling. “We’d love to stay.”
Andrea grins, gently patting Carlos’s cheek and then TK’s before retreating into the house and heads up the stairs.
*****
“Didn’t expect this, did you?” Carlos asks once TK closes the bedroom door behind him for the night.
They had changed into clothes that Carlos had previous left at his parents’ house. Both in comfortable sweats, Carlos opted for a grey cotton t-shirt while TK had picked one of his police academy ones.
TK shakes his head. “I also didn’t expect you to have a harsh allergic reaction today.”
“Yeah, didn’t see that coming at all,” Carlos sighs, falling backwards on the freshly made bed.
Carlos closes his eyes, relishing in the familiar feel of the mattress underneath him. He loves sharing his home with TK, it becoming their home, with everything in it. He loves crawling into their bed after a long shift, finding comfort and love in TK’s arms. But this bed, the one he’s lying on right now, will always hold a special place in his heart. It’s a part of him, engraved in and with so many memories from his childhood and early teen years. He feels happiness flow through his entire being at the knowledge that he gets to share it with TK now, gets to share that part of him with the man he loves.
And even more so, he’s ecstatic that he gets to spend the night with his boyfriend at his parents’ place. Not only because he is physically close to TK, but also because of what having TK in his childhood bed really means. It’s something Carlos thought would never happen, it’s something he thought he’d never have; from introducing his boyfriend to his parents to sharing his childhood bed with him and everything in between. It was a dream, a dream that at times seemed so far away he was convinced it would remain that: a dream. But the feeling of the bed dipping next to him and the familiar arm going around his middle reminds Carlos that it is no longer a dream, it is now his wonderful reality.
“Where is your head at, baby?” TK murmurs, resting his chin on Carlos’s chest and looking at his face.
“It came true,” Carlos whispers back. He opens his eyes and he’s met with a confused look from TK.
“Hm?”
“A dream,” Carlos continues. “Having you here, in this bed with me, in this room, in this house, with my parents downstairs having just said goodnight to us. It was a dream, one I thought would never come true. I spent many nights, wide awake in this very bed, longing for this moment, and for everything that it would mean, wondering if I’ll ever get it. And you’re here now, and I’m living it, that dream. Words aren’t enough to express how much this means to me.”
“Oh, babe,” tears gather in TK’s eyes as he moves up the bed and cups Carlos’s face. “You deserve this, you deserve to have that dream become reality. You deserve love, Carlos, all the love the universe has to offer. And I promise you, I will spend every day doing my very best to give you the love you deserve. Every day, for as long as you’ll let me. I would erase those terrifying few minutes we had earlier today if I could, but us right now, right here in this dream you’re living, that we’re both living, let’s keep living this dream together. Because this dream is our reality.”
A tear rolls down the side of Carlos’s face, the passion he feels for the other man growing more and more with every second of every day. And he’s completely overtaken by his love for TK, and the love he’s receiving from the younger man.
TK zones out a little after wiping away Carlos’s fallen tear and giving him a warm smile. His mind goes something and Carlos senses a shift in TK, but he doesn’t push, knowing TK will speak when he’s ready.
“I was so scared today,” TK eventually says, sniffing as he sits up. “It felt like I was losing you, like you were being ripped away from me, slipping from me and I couldn’t do anything. All I could do was watch and hold you as tightly as I could. Because maybe if I held on tightly enough, you wouldn’t slip away. I felt so helpless and…”
Carlos takes hold of TK’s hand and lifts it to his lips, planting a kiss on TK’s skin, grounding him and reminding him that he’s right there.
“And for a moment, I felt like I wasn’t enough to save you,” TK’s voice breaks, tears now streaming down his face.
Carlos’s heart shatters at seeing TK break like this, at seeing the pain etched into TK’s expression and tone.
“Hey, hey, no, no, come here,” Carlos gently pulls TK down towards him, wrapping him up tightly, holding him close.
TK doesn’t waste a single second in curling up against Carlos, closing his eyes and burying his face in Carlos’s neck. He lets himself get lost in the steady rise and fall of every breath Carlos takes, in the even rhythm of Carlos’s heartbeat under his ear. Carlos is here, he’s alive, and TK clutches onto that fact with everything he’s got.
“You did everything you could, babe. It was a scary situation, and I was terrified, too, but I knew you were right there, right by my side. I wasn’t alone, and I knew you were going to take care of me. And you did. You gave me your all, and you saved me, TK.”
TK nuzzles further against Carlos, Carlos running his hand up and down TK’s back, just as he knows calms the younger man.
Then TK is pulling back and out of Carlos’s hold, haphazardly wiping away his tears and Carlos frowns a little at the sudden change.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” TK rushes to say. “This shouldn’t…this isn’t about me, I should be comforting you, you’re the one who had a hard time breathing today.”
Carlos’s face softens at that. “And it affected you just as much, TK. I’m going out of my mind just imagining if our roles were reversed, and you actually lived it. Of course it’s going to affect you. And you should, and need to, express that and feel that. It’s hard, but I’m here, you’re here and we’re okay.”
TK doesn’t meet Carlos’s eyes, instead he finds a threat sticking out of the duvet and busies his hands with it.
Carlos gently pulls TK’s hands away from the distraction, holding them between his own and adds a comforting pressure, now Carlos being TK’s lifeline.
“Look at me,” Carlos pleads.
TK slowly lifts his red puffy eyes to look into Carlos’s and sees so much there; concern, worry, appreciation, love.
“We carry each other, Ty.”
TK nods. “Always.”
“Always,” Carlos echoes, wiping away TK’s fallen tears.
He cups the back of TK’s head and pulls him in, connecting their lips in a tender kiss. It’s not rushed or heated, it’s a simple press of their lips, filled with reassurance and hope. They take their time, reveling in feeling each other, pouring everything into the kiss; their worries, their fear, but also their love and reassurance.
TK pulls back and touches his forehead to Carlos’s, soaking up everything that is Carlos. Once he feels his heart rate slow as he calms, he starts peppering Carlos’s face with small kisses, which makes the officer chuckle.
The bed is smaller than theirs, but they make it work, cuddling together with TK’s head resting on Carlos’s chest, Carlos’s arm securing his hold around TK’s shoulder.
“Your mom told me the same thing,” TK says after a moment of silence.
“What?”
“Basically about not bottling it up and to feel it,” TK explains.
Carlos hums. “She’s a smart woman.”
“She is,” TK nods. “And she has a smart son who takes after her. She also said holding you will make me feel better. She was right, because it does.”
“I see you’ve been bonding with my mother,” Carlos beams.
TK blushes. “She’s pretty great.”
“You’re pretty great, too,” Carlos replies.
TK gives him a small but genuine smile.
“You two bonding is everything I had wished for,” Carlos says, brushing a kiss to TK’s forehead.
“I’ve been looking forward to it so much, but I had hoped we wouldn’t have to bond while you were hurt.”
“It’s not how I pictured it but it’s okay, babe. There’s going to be many more chances for you both to continue bonding,” Carlos reassures.
“And with your dad, too. Although, I still need to crack how to do that,” TK chuckles light.
Carlos chuckles along. “I’ll help you out. Besides, they both already adore you.”
TK plants a soft kiss to Carlos’s lips before settling back in his position. They breathe together for a few minutes and TK can tell the moment Carlos drifts off to sleep.
TK feels lighter now, safe in Carlos’s embrace. They have each other, and that’s the most important thing. They’ll deal with anything that comes their way, together.
TK eyes begin to droop and his last thought before being lulled to sleep by Carlos’s steady breathing: we’re going to be just fine.
#911 lone star#tarlos#911 lone star fic#tarlos fic#chicgeekgirl89#userjilly#userthai#userkimmy#reyesstrand#tuserpaige#userjillian#bellakitse#useramyj#djdangerlove#tuserjamie#tuserjenny#tuserems#badthingshappenbingo#bad things happen bingo#*fics#i hope you guys enjoy this!#also check out maddie's amazing fic you haven't read it!#i love it so much!
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SCRAP SPOTLIGHT!
From now until about the middle of May, we'll be doing Scrap Spolights on a hopefully frequent basis to showcase some (or possibly all!) of the wonderful scraps we've collected in the box. To start us off, here is a handful of our Short and Sweets!
Tossed in the box by: Amber!
Stony
Somehow, different versions of Steve (Avengers Academy, Avengers Assemble, etc) keep showing up...and they’re all sweet on Tony which irritates the real Steve (overprotective and possessive as he is) to no end and who won’t leave Tony alone with any of these wannabes.
Avengers Academy Steve: Whoa, you just get hotter with age. I’m so excited!
Tossed in the box by: Faustess!
"Bucky has been researching everyone on the team and it seems like the media has nothing better to do than to gossip about Tony Stark's vices - women, booze, and expensive cars mostly. The trashier gossip bloggers openly speculated on what (or who) Tony's latest mistake would be.
When Bucky gives Tony a judgmental look after he's returned from being out (much longer than the hour Stark had said he'd be gone), Tony frowns. The bag clanks like metal. What the hell had Tony meant when he'd said he needed to 'go pick up some new vices'??
((hint - it's actual vices. It always takes longer at Home Depot or any hardware store because Tony has to look at everything before he leaves!))
Tossed in the box by: Magica!
WinterIron, Celtic warrior/warlord Bucky
Tossed in the box by: Nasha!
This convo happened while mentioning bingo fills (nerds & artificial intelligence)
Science!!
Tech!!
i almost heard bruce and tony yelling those in unison xD
And Bucky chiming in from the back because he's a super nerd too even if he doesn't have the fancy degrees
On that comment, now I want a fic where Bucky takes online classes as part of his recovery and ends up with a minor degree and he almost can't believe he did it!
Tossed in the box by: Rebelmeg!
Tony took art classes in college, to get a degree in drafting. He’s very skilled at it, and got top grades with his industrial art works. That’s how he managed to make that suit in the cave, making all those sketches. He did all that work himself, and it was all precision work.
Want to see the rest of the prompts? Click here to see the GDoc!
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Febuwhump Day 8 - “Hey, hey, this is no time to sleep!”
A/N: I can’t believe I just wrote this in one sitting. I know I’m super behind on Febuwhump, yikes...but I think this turned out pretty well! This got longer than I meant it to be, but then, so did most of the prompts in my drafts that I have for this month. This is actually my first time purposefully writing whump so I hope this was okay! Unedited btw, i’ll read it over in the morning.
TW: Burning building, explosions, second degree burns, mentions/descriptions of burn wounds, life or death situation, building collapse, concussed reader.
***
The first thing Hawks notices when he comes to is the foul taste in his mouth. It causes him to gag and cough with his eyes still closed, though that doesn’t help his situation much if at all. The smell of something burning sears the inside of his nostrils and clogs his lungs, and he finds it incredibly hard to breathe as he rolls over onto his side, eyes finally fluttering open.
The second thing he becomes acutely aware of is how hot he is. No...how hot the floor is. Speaking of which, he couldn’t seem to recall what he was doing down there anyways. If only that incessantly annoying ringing in his ears would stop-
Wait. Wait a minute...
An image of you flashes behind his eyelids as he blinks them shut harshly to block out the billowing cloud of smoke filling the room, and it all comes back to him in a whirlwind.
There were villains. High class villains. Not your every day run of the mill villains, but villains who could really pack a punch when fighting back. They had been occupying a small skyscraper at the time as their headquarters, and you and Hawks had partnered up to take them down after months of steak outs and observation. But something had gone wrong...very wrong. Those details were still a bit blurry, but Hawks remembers something akin to an explosion- a loud noise, the building shaking, and a blast that knocked him unconscious.
All of the sudden he’s hyper aware of what’s going on- and he realizes he needs to move fast if he’s going to get out of here alive. He’s at least twenty stories up in the air on unstable structures, his feathers and hair are singed, and his head is foggy after inhaling too much smoke. Luckily he can still move, and it doesn’t look like he’s been burned too severely, at least not yet. But the flames licking at the bottom of the closed door in front of him cause alarm bells to scream out in his head, and he knows he doesn’t have much time to think. He needs to find you so he can grab you and-
Ohhh, shit.
As he rolls over onto his other side, he can make out the outline of a figure lying on the floor, and he’s almost certain it’s you. None of the villains stuck around after blowing the place up anyways, and he can just barely see the dulled colors of your hero suit behind the thick screen of smoke.
“Fuck! Oh god, Y/N.”
You’re lying too still for your own good, and Hawks thinks he can see the beginning of what he can only assume to be fire slowly eating at the wall next to you. He wastes no time and flattens himself on his stomach, army crawling in your general direction to avoid the worst of the putrid air. It doesn’t help much, but it’s better than nothing. He ignores the uncomfortable heat of his body and pushes onward, his movements still a little sluggish from getting knocked out cold. He’s not entirely sure if he can even use his feathers right now while they’re this singed, and furthermore, he hopes his wings aren’t completely out of commission; he’s going to need those if the both of you are going to make it out of this alive.
“Y/N!” he tries to shout, though it ends in a horrible sounding cough that comes from deep in his chest. As he draws nearer, he hears what sounds like creaking coming from above the two of you, and to his utter horror, the support beams under floor above you have burnt to a crisp and look like they’re ready to collapse any second. It had to have been a sheer miracle that the two of you weren’t already engulfed in flames yourselves. “Y/N! Come on, kid, you gotta get up! Move!”
Even as he tries to urgently get your attention his body seems to move on it’s own accord, and before he can stop himself, he sends a few feathers your way out of habit and concern that you might be crushed any second if he doesn’t move you somehow. It hurts like hell, and he’s pretty sure he’s bleeding. This is by far the worst he’s felt when using his feathers, but it does pay off, and you’re lucky that he made the split decision to move you- no sooner had he scrambled back with you had the ceiling collapsed into the floor.
He turns to you while staying low to the ground, shaking you desperately and firmly smacking the side of your face with his hand in hopes of interrupting your forced slumber. It works but just barely, and Hawks watches as you try to take a deep breath but end up choking just as he had. He gives you a once-over while you struggle to breathe, eyes flitting over your form to assess any damage you may have taken- and to his dismay, there seems to be a good amount of it. The entire left side of your hero outfit is singed, bits of the fabric even burnt into your skin in certain places where the heat must have been too strong. You hadn’t been able to move away or protect yourself in your sleep, and the burns on your arm and leg can definitely attest to that. They’re second degree, at least; some of the fire must have actually made contact with your skin.
“Oh, fuck- Hey, look at me. Y/N, focus here!”
He leans over you to look at your eyes, and he doesn’t have to shine a light in them or have you follow his finger to know that you hit your head a little too hard. They’re glossy and unfocused, and you can’t find a single place on his face to fixate on. You just keep looking all over, and Hawks can clearly tell your concussed.
Fucking great. He’s got to get you both out, and now.
“Hey, kid. Can you hear me?” He nervously awaits an answer with eyes trained on you, and the second you start to talk he lets out a small breath of short-lived relief.
“Hawks...? Wha...” You look so out of it and dazed.
“So that’s a yes, thank god...” Before you try to ask anything else, he stops you in your tracks and shakes his head at you. “Whoa, whoa, whoa- take it easy, alright? No questions, I just need you to listen and keep talking to me. Doesn’t matter what it’s about, I just need to know you’re awake and alive-” He pauses briefly to look around for something, anything he can do to escape.
There’s the door you both came from, the one that’s barely holding back the raging heat behind it- that’s a no-go. No way in hell is he trying to brave that. His wings won’t last five seconds in that, and you don’t have the means to protect yourself while you’re concussed. Another option is to try and escape through the hole in the floor that the ceiling caused...but that’s way too risky for the both of you as is, and it looks like flames are starting to creep in from that way, too. If he is going to take that route, he needs to do it soon. Maybe he can get to a staircase, or find a-
The sound of you moaning in pain cuts through his thoughts and his head whips back in your direction to find you grimacing and trying to move. “Ah ah- Don’t do that. Just keep talking, come on. I know it hurts, but you gotta keep talkin’ to me. I’m gonna get us out of this mess, somehow...”
Panic starts to set in as he realizes his options are limited. Terror grips him in it’s icy stone-cold jaws as he comes to the conclusion that his odds of survival are even worse.
“Hawks...it hur’s...” All you can do is roll your head back and forth and try to move, but your body just won’t cooperate with your mind.
“Fuck. Fuck! I know, I know...” His teeth grit together as he thinks, his thoughts racing a mile a minute. Adrenaline is starting to kick in, and he’s desperate for anything at this point.
He still has no plan in mind when he makes another split second decision to move you from where you’re currently laying. The fire is only spreading up onto the carpeted floor the two of you are on, and the smoke is getting worse by the second; this room is a hot box with no ventilation at this point. He carefully picks you up and cradles you to his chest, his wings wrapping around the both of you to both support your frame and shield you from the onslaught of unbearable heat. It forces him to take a few steps back, and he does his best to navigate through a screen of black without bumping into any furniture. He almost trips several times, but eventually he hits the opposite wall. Or, rather...
A window. Bingo.
“S’ tired...” you mumble. Your eyes are already fluttering, rolling to the back of your head as your limbs grow heavy in his arms.
“Hey, hey, this is no time to sleep! Y/N!? Come on, stay awake!”
“C’n we go...home now?”
He doesn’t like how ragged your breathing sounds.
He almost chuckles at the absurdity of the situation, but his lungs are already full of tainted air to laugh, let alone breathe properly, so he scoffs instead- and instantly regrets it. Between fits of coughs, he presses his shoulder to the glass behind you both to test the temperature, and it’s much hotter than it should be. Part of the glass is already blown out to his right, but there’s not enough space to crawl out without the jagged edges of it tearing up his flesh and wings. But if he could somehow break it...
His feathers. He’ll have to use up more of them, but if he uses the bare minimum necessary to break the glass and saves the majority, he may be able to make it out the window and fly you both to safety.
“We can’t go home yet,” he chokes out in response to you, finally. “I’m gonna get you out of here, and then you’re on your way to the hospital, yeah? You’re gonna be fine.”
He knows that to be true, so long as he can actually manage this. He backs up as far as he can go without subjecting either of you to the hot flames now openly invading the room, the entryway having burnt to a crisp already. From where he stands now, he hopes there’s enough distance to create the amount of force needed to shatter that damn glass. After a quick estimate of how many feathers he can get away with using, he readies them, and it all boils down this moment. If he can’t do this, you’ll both die. Both of your lives are at stake, resting on his weary shoulders. He can do this.
He has to.
“Wanna go home...wanna go...” You’re just murmuring to yourself, and it really puts Hawks on edge.
He hears the glass shatter before he sees it. He stumbles forward, wings still securely wrapped around you, and all but falls out of the edge of the window right before the rest of the floor collapses in on itself. He hears the devastation behind him, feels sparks on his back where the holes of his shirt meet the beginnings of his wings. He knows if he had hesitated or stayed any longer, neither of you would be alive right now.
Replacing his hold on you with his arms, he lets his wings drift open and prays he didn’t overdo it with the feathers, begs whatever gods may be listening that the two of you can at least slow the fall somehow. And to his pure joy and bliss, his wings, though bleeding and burnt and painful, are still very much holding up and allowing him to fly.
Now if he can manage to get you to a hospital...you’ll be just fine.
#febuwhump#febuwhumpday8#febuwhump2021#hawks x reader#keigo x reader#whump#bnha x reader#mha x reader#hawks#keigo takami#keigo
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Tracing Constellations, pt.2
The moment you’ve all been waiting for
Chapter Two: A Clarity
By the early evening, they had made it. Their journey was long and rough, leaving their muscles aching and in desperate need of rest. Ahead was a rather large shack nearly hidden by the towering elms all around it. Jean wasn’t really well versed in architecture, but he remembered one of Armin’s late night ramblings about an ancient style of housing that the cabin-like building resembled. It was a nice, homey looking place. Though it seemed long abandoned with ivy spreading up the walls and leaves camouflaging the roof and scattering the ground. To the east came a loud shushing sound, easily identifiable as a clogged up creek. Bingo.
“Yeah, tell me about it. We’re definitely going to have to stay the night here.” Marco chimed, trying to conceal the excitement that the sentiment brought.
They set the rest of their stuff by the rock-lined fire pit before making their way to the waterside. Water was building up rapidly, overflowing to the sides. Blocking it’s path was a massive oak tree, water only barely trickling over the top.
“Oh shit,” Jean began, rolling up his trousers and stepping in for a closer inspection.
Marco followed suit, yards of thick rope in his grasp. “Luckily it’s fairly hollow.” he called from behind Jean over the sound of water forcibly hitting the log. “The tree itself won’t be too heavy, it’s just stuck. Look there,” he gestured to the base of the tree trapped in the thick walls of the compacted mud. “It’s just trapped. If we attach rope to either side and pull at an angle, perhaps we can free it and get it to the surface.” he concluded with a small, self-satisfied smile, clearly proud of his little assessment. Marco always seemed to take joy in the simplest things, and Jean would be lying if he said it wasn’t endearing.
Jean smiled devilishly. “Well done my brilliant friend. Let’s get this started.” Marco gave a dramatic salute before getting to work, tying the rope tightly to one end of the tree. Jean took a nearby stick to dig at the tough mud, aiming to loosen its grip on the tree. Marco noticed and began to do the same. Soon enough, they felt a thudded movement of the tree as water poured in from the sides.
“It’s coming loose!” Marco leapt. “Jean, I’ll drag the rope up my end, you meet me with your end, ok?”
Jean lifted the rope. “Ok, aye aye captain!” he yelped.
With just enough force from Marco’s end and Jean coming to meet him on the same edge of the creek, the water ferociously gushed in, releasing all the built up tension behind the log.
“Alright ready to flip it?!” Jean called out over the rushing water, and was met with a swift, “Yep, heave!” With one last bout of labor, they had gotten the bulky tree over the edge of the water, the makeshift dam no longer able to wreak havoc on their water supply.
And with that, Jean dramatically flung himself into the semi shallow water, the flowing tide steadying to a more constant trickle as it evened out. Marco starred in bafflement before howling with a poorly contained laughter.
“Jean! What on earth are you doing!” he cried between laughs. Jean had that devilish grin on his face again, and Marco knew exactly what was coming - he was next. “Jean, Jean no. Splash me and I will have no choice but to go in and defeat you myself.” he pleaded, threatened, warned, but despite his desperate cries and admonishing face, Jean got closer, arms in position to fire water directly at him.
“I’d like to see you try.” he said menacingly, before pushing a massive wave of water to the surface, full on drenching Marco on the spot.
Oh. This was war.
Marco hurdled into the deepest part of the creek, a battle cry leaving his lips as he shoved a tall wall of water onto the other. Managing to side step his first attack, Jean beamed as his eyebrows furrowed, face contorting to that of a jester.
“Jean, oh my God.” he chuckled, a standoff between the two men putting them at a pause. Jean bent low in the water, soaking his chest.
“Well? Gonna come and get me?” he taunted, smirking his most devilish smile. Marco eagerly leapt at him, arms wrapping around the bulkier man in a wrestle. The two danced in and out of the embrace with Jean finally gaining the upper hand, slamming Marco backwards into the water. Marco let out a small cry, soon to be muffled by the incoming water enveloping the pair.
The two quickly resurfaced, Jean looking more than pleased with his second consecutive win, and Marco coughing and hacking up stream water.
“Oh shit. Marco, I'm sorry, are you ok?”
“I'm-” Marco proceeded to nearly cough up an entire lung, obviously not having been prepared to be body-slammed mercilessly into a deepish body of water.
Jean sloshed his way over to his choking friend patting him on the back hard as if that would somehow help the situation.
“Jea-” cough “It’s fin-” couch “Just sto-”
“It’s not fine, I almost drowned you! Here um I know the Heimlich maneuver!” Jean said in a panic, rushing to stand behind Marco. Of course the Heimlich maneuver wouldn’t do a damned thing to help, but Jean didn’t need to know that, as for Marco’s master plan to work he needed to lull the other into his trap. Now directly behind him, Jean couldn’t see the absolutely devious grin on Marco’s face.
Jean hurriedly wrapped his arms around the other’s torso and before he could start the first compression Marco turned to face him at the speed of light. Confused and a bit startled, Jean froze in place, finally realizing the deep shit he was in once he saw Marco’s lopsided and evil grin.
Fuck. He was tricked. That cheeky little bastard.
“Wait, Marco-”
Before Jean could plead for his life, Marco's hands were already steadfast onto each of his shoulders.
“Now, accept your defeat!” Marco dramatically yelled as he forcefully dunked a yelping Jean under the rushing current. He let out a downright maniacal laugh, still reaching Jean’s ears over the rumbling sound of being dunked into the water.
He grabbed blindly in Marco’s direction, finding what felt to be his shirt and hoisting himself up with a gasp. The quick movement and general unsteadiness of the creek caused him to lose his balance, Marco catching him by the waist before he capsized again. Marco looked at Jean with a satisfied grin, and Jean could only sigh exasperatedly after finally catching his breath.
“Why do people think you're the nice one?”
“What? You started it. All I did was finish it.”
“You’re a demon.”
“Only for you~”
Jean promptly shook the remaining water from his hair, making damn sure it got on the smirking devil in front of him. Marco chuckled at his petty revenge, turning his head to avoid most of the incoming droplets, though not retreating his arms holding Jean upright.
Their impulsive little duel in the water had them both utterly soaked, Marco’s white shirt practically useless as it clung tight and sheer on his body. Of course, Jean had seen his bare arms and chest before but never this close up. Never with said arms still wrapped around his damn waist. They were really no further than a foot away from each other and Jean felt his face heating up as he looked everywhere but Marco’s face. His sun kissed shoulders were speckled with freckles that matched his cheeks and it made Jean want to know just how much of Marco was covered with them.
Whoa.
What?
Back the fuck up.
He did not just think about Marco’s naked body while being held this close in his arms and shit shit shit abort mission. NOW.
Jean rather abruptly shook himself out of Marco’s gentle hold, looking absolutely everywhere but at the man himself. His face was probably bright red with the embarrassing amount of heat radiating off it. He could practically feel the questioning look on Marco’s face but Jean was absolutely not going to let him voice it.
“Hey, you hungry? Let’s uh... get dressed and get some grub, shall we?”
Though it was technically a question, Jean didn’t wait for an answer. He was up and out of the water before Marco could so much as say “polo”.
Jean didn’t walk towards the shed so much as run to it.
The embarrassment and guilt ate at his psyche and all Jean could do to stop it was just pretend it wasn’t there. He wasn’t going to make things awkward for the rest of the night because he was… Imaging his best friend naked? In a not so dude-bro way? No. No, he hadn’t assured that yet. He was only thinking about his friend’s freckles… And there was nothing inherently inappropriate about that. Right. Jean was fine. Marco was fine. Everything was fine.
He decided to go with that explanation for now.
Jean dressed in the shed first, putting on what sort of resembled sleepwear before hanging his soaked clothes to dry over a tree limb. Marco did so next, coming out of the shed dressed in plain brown pants and a thick white tunic that hung low, exposing a part of his dotted chest. Jean tried not to notice, really, he did, but it was hard. For some inexplicable reason, he was drawn to it.
Seeing the sun begin to set, Marco took initiative and got a head start on a fire in the pit yards away from the shed. Jean dug through the bags to grab food, sheepishly bringing it over to Marco at the fire pit.
“It’s uh just wrapped rations, nothing special.” Jean explained, handing the sitting man a packet.
“Thanks Je-” Marco began before a scream escaped Jean’s lips,
“But I snuck BOOOOOOZE!” he exclaimed, holding out a bottle of hard liquor. Marco’s mouth flew open.
“You sneaky bastard!” Marco teased, causing Jean to stick his tongue out playfully.
“I know, you love it” Jean said, sitting cross legged not but a palms length away from Marco.
The sun quickly fell behind the mountainside, leaving a distant dim glow as the crackling fire took its place as the center source of light. The smell of wood burning and the trickling sound of fresh water reminded Jean of how much he missed simply just enjoying the outdoors.
“Yknow,” Marco began as Jean opened the bottle and took a swig. “I’ve never been camping before.” Jean raised his eyebrows in disbelief, handing him the bottle.
“This is news to me, you sure know how to navigate in the wilderness!” Marco chuckled, taking a swig.
“Guess you can teach me a thing or two more,” he winked. Jean stirred, his hands finding stability only when the bottle was passed back to him. Jeez Marco had no right looking so-
“Well then, a toast!” he exclaimed perhaps a bit too loudly.
Marco looked at him quizzically. “Hah, to what?” Us he wanted to say, almost feeling the word slip off his tongue before correcting it.
“To Marco’s first night outdoors!” He held the bottle up in triumph, taking a large swig before handing it back to Marco, who did the same. They laughed heartily at the sentiment before settling to let the booze make its effect on their minds and bodies.
The moon’s soft white luster shone down onto the pair, reflecting off the fracturing water of the now ever-flowing stream. Broken images of adjacent trees appeared as inky veins dancing upon the water’s surface, nearly as mesmerizing of a sight as were the blinking flames in front of them. For a short while, there was a tranquil sort of silence. The soft sounds of a forested night; a lullaby, as Jean and Marco simply sat there, existing together under the dull shine of the stars.
The crackling heat of the fire provided ample warmth and light, allowing Jean an inviting gaze toward his companion's calmed face, eyelids shut softly as he enjoyed the slight chilly breeze. Jean let his eyes scan down the expanse of Marco’s figure, stopping at his toned, freckle-peppered arms. For reasons he could not decipher, Marco’s freckles enveloped his mind. Unbeknownst to Jean, he reached out to touch them, tracing shapes and constellations into the dots adorning Marco’s arm.
Marco startled a bit at the sudden touch, though upon seeing Jean’s peaceful, zoned out state, made no turn to move. His heart stammered in his chest, the light tracing of Jean's thumb on his arm spreading chills throughout his entire body. His mind abandoned any rational thought as he watched, rather felt Jean’s pointer finger and thumb gingerly dance across his skin. It was such a gentle gesture, one Marco hadn’t seen Jean ever perform. As his feather-light touch ran ever so slightly higher, Marco couldn’t hold back a twitch, halting Jean in his place. What on earth was he doing? Jean yanked his hand back close to his chest and averted his gaze back to the trees, the creek, the shack, hell anything but Marco.
“Uh, sorry,” he mumbled under his breath, just barely audible over the steady whooshing of running water. For the second time that night Jean’s face felt hotter than hell itself.
“It’s okay,” Marco whispered back, looking over at his now abashed friend. “I… don’t mind.” he finished and Jean glanced up, dilated eyes looking up through his lashes, not knowing what that response meant.
“Listen, Jean, I-” Marco began, liquid courage pushing him almost as hard as Ymir’s words the previous night. Jean crossed his arms in front of his chest, uncomfortable and otherwise unmoving as he took in Marco’s increasingly anxious behavior. “Fuck it, I just- Gah.” he swore, bringing his hands to grab nervously at his reddening face. Jean shivered, though he doubted it was due to the chilling air. What was the matter? Was it him? Did he make him uncomfortable?
Assuming that was certainly the case, Jean tugged in his legs close to his chest, demeanor physically decreasing. “I’m sorry, shouldn’t have.... Was weird. I-” he was silenced by Marco’s fingertips resting on his knee in an action of reassurance.
“I liked it.” he hurriedly quipped, before his eyes widened and his cheeks grew a more prominent crimson. Marco turned away and looked off into the fire, seeming to contemplate something, though his hand stayed placed atop his knee. If Jean was being completely honest with himself, he was terrified. Terrified of himself, of fucking everything up, of how nice it felt to be touched like this…
Despite being a self-proclaimed womanizer, Jean was often untouched, making the sensation of Marco’s fingers upon his knee amplified and probably more intimate than was intended. But still, he longed for more, so much more. His mind went foggy as he tried to decipher what this all meant, what this entire night had ment. His skin felt hot as he took a deep breath, looking at Marco with equal amounts of concern and desire.
The want to always be close by to him, the walls of confidence and arrogance that seemed to falter and collapse when with him, the unjustifiable jealousy towards Ymir who had only just became close-ish to him, his obsession with seeing him laugh, seeing him happy, seeing him prattle on about his childish feather collection and seeing those freckles and that damned smile: it was all leading towards the same answer, an answer Jean didn’t know he was ready to fully confront.
Marco was still facing the dwindling fire, a heavy look weighing his features down. Unsure of what to do, but knowing he ought to do something, he rested a hand atop Marcos. He turned away from the smoldering coals to look Jean in the eyes, features flashing a whole myriad of emotions Jean couldn’t even begin to decipher. The tension between them grew as they both stared at one another, neither of them knowing how to proceed.
As if God Herself had had enough of the two’s back and forth antics, a downpour of rain started to fall from the darkened sky. Feeling the icy drops of water on his skin, Marco instinctively let Jean go, making his way up and off the now dampening ground.
“Ah shit, looks like the storm followed us here.” Marco awkwardly blurted, the contrast of the casual line with the previously tense staredown like chalk against a blackboard, finally breaking the impenetrable silence. Marco turned to start towards the shed, though when Jean didn’t follow, he threw him a worried glance. Jean knew he had to go in - this type of rain only meant bad news to come and it wasn’t like he wanted to ruin another pair of clothes... But something was stopping him. He was nervous. Nervous of the fire in Marcos eyes yet realizing he wanted it more than anything.
Seeing Jean unmoving as rain drenched his body, Marco bit his lips nervously, swimming with his own uncertainties and nerves from it all.
“Jean…?” he re-approached calmly, voice cautious as if approaching some sort of wild animal. The air grew colder and wetter as the winds picked up, Jean’s mumbled response rendered inaudible as he shook in the frigid air. He slowly stood, still fixating on the ground as the two made their way inside.
…
It seemed like this untouchable silence was to follow them inside as well.
The two men stood face to face in that rustic styled living room, Marco leaning against the east most wall and Jean standing limp by the door, neither sure if they had the courage to initiate what they both so desperately wanted. Marco looked at him with practically every traceable emotion etched onto his features. Jean could feel his remaining walls starting to chip away, a long running crack threatening to crumble the blockade into an unidentifiable nothing. Fine. He knows what he’s got to do.
A second of contemplation later and finally, it crumbles.
Jean makes his way over to the other, wordlessly and with his brain running damn miles a minute. Marco let out a shaky breath as Jean continued to step towards the other, stopping just a footstep in front of him. He looked a bit startled, though not afraid. If anything, Jean would say Marco looked… hopeful? Relieved? He reached out, hand grazing Marco’s hair as he settled it onto the wall behind him, leaning closer still. Marco was essentially trapped between the wood wall flush against his back and Jean, enclosing arm, yet he still did not look uncomfortable.
He had already made it this far… It was too late to chicken out right? Last minute thoughts raced in Jean’s mind as Marco's eyes looked up into his from wherever they were set before. His gaze was intense, his eyes aflame with a fire Jean had never seen in the other before. Now he wasn’t necessarily great with feelings and general social awareness, but looking into those fire orbs Jean saw nothing that said ‘Stop’
And so Jean said ‘Fuck it’
Jean finally closed the remaining space between them, lips meeting lips and- oh. OH. Jean’s body ignited with a sense of overwhelming intensity and desperation, the long awaited action of this sending his mind into overdrive. He was kissing Marco. Marco was kissing him. Marco didn’t hesitate to cup his jaw, Jean leaning into the touch before grabbing onto his arm. His other hand slid down from the base of the wall to slink around his waist, pulling the goddamned beautiful man closer.
Marco took initiative in deepening the kiss, eliciting unexpected hum from Jean’s lips. He let his other hand fall to meet Marcos waist, wanting nothing more than to graze his heated skin underneath the damp cloth, though Jean pulled back for a second, allowing room for retaliation or, possibly, resentment.
“Is this okay?” he whispered.
Marco nodded, fingers toying with the man's wet hair. “It’s more than okay.” he replied before Jean resumed his actions, lips meeting his with urgency. If it didn’t feel real at first, it sure as hell felt real now, and Jean was soaring.
It was sudden when Marco pulled back, hands moving to graze up and down Jean’s chest. Jean looked at him with nothing but fondness and ease, all his barriers down for him and him alone in this moment. Marco looked in his arms, skin burning with heat and eyes flaring with longing.
“Well…” Marco chuckled nervously, and Jean grinned. “This is unexpected,” Marco finished his sentence in a hush whisper.
Jean bit his tongue, more worried about this reaction than he had expected. “In a… good way?” he asked as anxiety crept its way into his slightly shaking hands. Marco put his forehead to his, getting a better look into his eyes. “You tell me,” he taunted.
Jean’s features took a turn for the serious, as he softly rocked his forehead against Marco’s. “Marco…” he began, the tone of his voice causing the said man to tremble slightly. “You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this... with you.” As Marco peered through the darkened wet strands of Jean’s hair, he saw his eyes were glistening. Tears. Jean was crying. Unable to spit even a syllable out in return, Marco simply brushed his lips against his in a kiss. This time, it was Jean who returned the action with haste. Marco cupped his cheeks and felt their fresh tears mixed with warm flesh as they kissed once again, this time, with mutual cognizance.
Jean began laughing between kisses, almost unable to comprehend what was happening. He hadn’t realized how damaging it had been trying to ignore his feelings for Marco, nor how euphoric it would feel to finally acknowledge them. Marco pushed him back impishly and Jean caught his near-fall before grabbing Marco’s hand and holding it in his own.
“Is this real…?” Marco asked mindlessly, focusing entirely on their hands entangling as Jean rubbed his thumb over his forefinger.
“It better fucking be,” Jean half-joked. “'Cus if it’s a dream, please don’t ever wake me up” he concluded, studying Marco’s lightly speckled skin in the little light the shack provided.
“Hug me, please” Marco hushed, embarrassed at the question despite having kissed the man already. Jean flushed, the demand sending chills down his spine and making something in the pit of his stomach flip. Without a word, Jean snaked his arms around him, Marco hesitantly leaning his head on Jean’s broad shoulder. It was an apprehensive embrace at first, as if they still were somewhat afraid this was some kind of prank. He held him, too, and Marco’s hands were tangled around his neck. After a moment of comforting solace, it seemed Marco had finally realized that yes, this was in fact real. “Thank you.” he muffled into the crook of his neck.
Jean smiled, placing a small kiss to the top of his head. “No, thank you,” he said.
“Why?” Marco chuckled. Jean stroked his back, stepping somehow even closer in the embrace.
“Because you’re the most beautiful fuckin’ man I’ve ever laid eyes on…” he worded earnestly. Marco giggled cutely and placed a gentle kiss to his neck, nearly eliciting an embarrassing gasp from Jean.
“Says Jean fucking Kirstein.” he emphasized, kissing his neck again. Jean flushed furiously. He was seriously going to die.
“Mhph- don’t tease me, Bodt” he bit, forcing Marco’s head up as he collided with his lips again. Marco’s eyes widened as their bodies hit the wall, hands once more exploring and teasing through clothes.
Jean hiked his hands up Marco’s shirt, feeling his hot torso beneath as he thumbed the outline of his toned chest. Marco rutted against him, his hands moving to his hips in an attempt to bring him closer. “Ah-“ Jean hitched, his breath wavering as their clothed bodies rubbed against each other. Kisses deepened and tongues grazed curiously. All that could be heard in the little shack made for two were breathy moans and wanton grasps as the night took a physically fervent direction.
__________
Jean woke up in a daze, last night barely able to find its way back into his mind as his eyesight adjusted to the morning light. He shifted slightly before noticing Marco lying naked on his chest, hand snaked behind his head.
A smile easily spread over his tired face as the shining sun was proof the evening they shared wasn’t a dream or another figment of his imagination. It was real, and he treasured the feeling of Marco’s soft skin touching his. Careful to not wake him, he shyly traced false patterns on his speckled shoulder, elated at the prospect that he could just do that now.
A slight gust of cool wind slithered under the door and into the room, making Marco shiver slightly in his sleep. Jean pulled the fleece blanket to better cover the both of them as he continued to swipe his fingers across his skin. But it was too late, as Marco had already opened his pretty brown eyes.
Not being near awake enough to communicate, he entangled himself with Jean’s body as he reveled in the feeling of his skin being touched. Jean took this as full confidence there was no regret concerning what had happened and he kissed his forehead, hand ever so softly tickling his back.
Marco hummed, smiling into his touch as he slowly eased awake. He moved his head further into Jean’s chest, peppering him with small kisses as both of their quickening heart beats thumped against one another. Jean’s comforting touch faltered slightly, not being able to focus on much of anything other than the soft lips against his chest. Noticing this, Marco lifted his head up to be eye-level with him.
“Hi,” he grumbled cutely, voice deep and ridden with sleep.
“Hi,” Jean grumbled back, reaching slightly to place a quick kiss on Marco’s nose. They admired each other's sweat-lined skin before Jean spoke up again. “So,” he gulped, and Marco let out a low, grovely chuckle.
“We fucked and now you can barely look me in the eyes?” Jean went bright red. Hearing Marco’s joking tone and following chuckle didn’t lessen the effect this sentence had on him.
“I- sorry. Just never-” he began, and Marco placed his fingers on the man's chin.
“Me neither.” he confirmed, letting out a shaky breath.
Jean swung his thigh over Marco’s in a desperate attempt to get even closer - a clear sign to Marco that he was content with their situation. He snuggled closer, the blanket enveloping the both of them from the cool winds.
“Can I kiss you?” he breathed.
Marco’s sun-kissed cheeks went pink, those words being uttered to him by Jean only ever being a part of his late night fantasies.
“Of course,” he managed, and Jean obliged, leathery lips kissing him in a delicate action of reverence.
“Jean,” Marco began, breaking the kiss. “Before anything… y'know. I have to know your feelings on, this, I guess. I’m not- I can’t just leave until I have absolute clarification. Listen, if this was just a one-off, I understand, but-”
Marco was silenced by Jean using his thigh to maneuver himself on top, resting atop the man before answering his plea. “I don’t want this to be a one-off, Marco. Believe me, last night was a blast, but you need to understand it’s you that has me smitten - you who has me wanting to stay in this stupid shack forever. And for some goddamn reason, you fuckin like me just as much as I like you.” he answered wholeheartedly. Marco opened his mouth to speak but was cut off as Jean continued on. “Fuck, what I’m trying to say is it wasn’t the alcohol or anything that led to last night. Marco, I kissed you because for a long time now, I knew I didn’t want to be friends. And… being alone with you it just - it opened that up for me and-”
His words caught in his throat as Marco used his same technique to hoister himself on top. He smiled from ear to ear, a sight Jean couldn’t get enough of. “If at any point in time you would’ve made a move, I’d’ve been yours. That talk I had with Ymir? It was about you. Jean, if you’re serious, I need a definitive-”
“Yes.”
“Yeah?”
“Sorry, let me rephrase: fuck yes”
Marco could’ve squealed, elation running through his veins as he watched Jean’s equally giddy reaction. He adored Jean, his bluntness, sarcasm, and tender heart. Not everyone knew of Jean’s warm heart, they hadn’t given the jock the chance. But Marco did, and to Jean, that’s all that mattered. They kissed for the thousandth time before laying back down in a fervent embrace, both knowing they had to get up and head back to camp soon but neither making the move to do so.
Eventually, and begrudgingly, they got up. A little cleanup and packing was done before they got fully dressed, ready to make the trip back. “We still have several hours,” Marco pointed out as he slipped his backpack on.
Jean grinned. “Yeah?”
Marco nodded. “We could… if you wanted to, hold hands?” he finished. Jean blushed despite how juvenile it may have seemed as he took Marco’s hand in his, giving a light squeeze of assurance.
“You never have to ask to hold my hand,” he chuckled.
A few hours had passed as the overcast sky seemed somehow even brighter than usual, their spirits beyond content with themselves and the world around them. Jean looked at Marco as their hands stuck like glue, neither daring to let go. Overwhelmed with adoration of the man next to him, Jean snaked his hand behind his waist, pulling him close. Marco stopped out of surprise, returning the action and turning his head to kiss him.
“Fuck you,” he snipped as he smiled. Jean played with his hair.
“You already did.” he quipped, causing Marco’s face to glow a bright red.
“I- ah-” he stammered as Jean kissed him again.
“I don’t ever want to go back,” Jean whispered, resting his head on the man's shoulder as they slowly began to pick up the pace again. Marco rubbed Jean’s back lovingly as they stayed conjoined at the hip.
“It’ll be okay. We’ll find time to sneak around. Especially at night”. Jean closed his eyes for a moment, imagining several nights of being close to him before waking up the next day to have it be their own little secret. That was okay by him, and by Marco too.
It was nearly nightfall when the pair had finally made it back, the sleeping quarters seen just ahead in the distance, lit by the torches lining the paths. They sighed, letting go of each other as they attempted to keep some semblance of normality of who they were before.
A hacking noise was heard, and Marco whipped his head to the side to see Ymir chopping wood. “Ymir?! What are you doing out so late?” Marco gasped. Ymir got up, striding toward them as she spoke. “Dumbasses back there are bickering. I’d rather be out here in order to avoid a headache.” she said flatly. Jean could only nod, as he had no idea what to say in reply.
“Fair enough,” Marco said nervously, watching as she crept closer to Jean. She pulled down the collar of his shirt and smirked.
“Ah Marco, it seems you finally learned how to ride horses.” she quipped. Jean nearly died right there on the campground and Marco let a hand shoot up to cover his mouth in surprise.
“Ymir!” he exclaimed before laughing out of embarrassment and defeat. She cackled before resting an arm on his shoulder, eyeing Jean’s absolutely horrified expression. “I’m proud of you, really. It was about time something was done about you two.”
Jean straightened out, a hand covering half of his face.”You… oh shit. You won't-”
“Tell anyone?” She finished, cutting through the bullshit. “No, ‘course not. That’s up to the two of you.” she smiled, calming the boys down.
Marco looked at her with a gentle gratitude. “Ymir, thank you. But… How do we keep this from everyone else? I just- I’m not ready. Jean isn’t ready.” he suggested before looking to Jean who was nodding furiously in confirmation. Ymir put her hand to her chin in momentary contemplation.
“Look, I’m not telling you all my secrets. But I can give a few. For now though I’ll just say this: if Christa and I can get away with it, so can you two knuckleheads.”
Jean’s eyes widened. So many bombshells in one evening. Ymir and Christa? Together? Thinking of it now, he wasn’t that surprised, but the sudden admittance of it caught him off guard. “Wow” is all he could muster before Marco tenderly put his head on his shoulder, making his face flush a light pink.
Seeing this, Ymir couldn’t help but grin. They were cute, and she unfortunately had to concede to that. “Well, I’m turning in for the night-” she began as Marco brought her in for a hug, interrupting her goodbyes.
“Thank you Ymir, really” he whispered. She patted his back. “Anytime man.” she concluded before breaking the hug to turn back. “Sleep tight!” she winked, and Marco looked back at a flushing Jean.
“How do you feel?” he questioned, unable to read Jean’s expression.
He ruffled Marco’s hair. “Good,” he said. “Really good”. He cupped Marco’s cheek and leaned in to meet his forehead. They breathed in the warmth of each other before pulling back, knowing they had to actually go back this time. “Meet me in my room, twenty minutes.” Jean hushed, and Marco bit his cheek.
“Fifteen” he quipped, jogging off to report their mission.
“Deal.”
#JeanMarco#jean kirschtein fanfiction#jean x marco#marco x jean#fluff#spicy#our second fic ever#please be nice#im scared#kissing#making out#hot n heavy#this went way longer than we thought#not the end lol
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Want | Priest!Kay x Reader { Part V }
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: Smut, Oral/Fingering (f!receiving), Catholic imagery, Priest kink, Infidelity
Summary: When you start attending your fiance’s church in order to convert, per his family’s wishes, you never expected to be reunited with your old flame, Kay, who just so happens to be the Priest, not to mention, the one that got away. Both deeply unhappy with the paths your lives have taken and fighting buried feelings only makes things harder the more time you end up in each other’s company, leading to a forbidden relationship that could tear your entire lives as you know them apart. Lucky for you, nothing could be more worth it.
masterlist
“Hey, I’m gunna take a shower, you sure you don’t wanna join?”
At Matthew’s question, you looked up from the book in your lap, fighting back the grimace that almost instantly crossed your face. “No, that’s alright, I’ve already taken one earlier,” you said offhandedly, flipping the page. “Besides, showering with someone else really isn’t as hot as they make it out to be in the movies,” you pointed out.
Your fiance frowned for a moment before shrugging. “Your loss,” he quipped as he turned and disappeared into the bathroom.
As soon as you heard the water turn on, you jumped up, going in search of his phone, hoping he hadn’t taken it into the bathroom with him. Luckily, you found it plugged in on the kitchen counter.
Your pulse pounding in your ears, you picked it up, and swore under your breath.
Fuck, what’s his passcode?
Wracking your brain, you began trying any meaningful four digit codes you could think of. You had to get this right or he’d know you’d been trying to get into his phone, and then you’d be utterly fucked.
Closing your eyes, you envisioned him unlocking his phone and the path his finger always made; you’d seen him do it probably hundreds of times. You had one last chance before you’d be locked out. Holding your breath, you gasped in relief when his home screen appeared.
Okay, now all you have to do is find some proof, you thought, opening his messaging app as you strained your ears, listening for the sound of running water. The shower was still going. You still had time.
Scrolling through his messages, you found a couple unfamiliar numbers, with only letters as the contact info.
“That’s not suspicious at all,” you grumbled, opening the first one, addressed to ‘P’. Working quickly, you didn’t find anything too damning in that thread, mostly Matthew flirting a little, but nothing about meeting up. Still, you snapped a quick photo with your own phone before backing out and opening the thread with ‘A’.
“Whoa!” you gasped, nearly dropping his phone as a photo of your fiance’s dick greeted you, followed by a return photo of ‘A’s’ tits and a message about how good the other night had been. Bingo, you thought, quickly taking a photo of the evidence, proof that he was cheating.
Suddenly the bathroom door opened and your heart leapt into your throat. Quickly closing the message app, you fumbled with the lock button, dropping his phone back to the counter where he’d left it, and yanked opened the refrigerator door as soon he rounded the corner in his towel.
“Babe?” he called uncertainly til he noticed you. “Oh, there you are,” he exclaimed, nonchalantly unplugging his phone. “Since you’re in there, d’you think you could make me a sandwich? I’m starving,” he groaned. Not even waiting for your answer, he turned around and left the room. “Thanks hon!” he called back and you rolled your eyes.
“Why don’t you ask your mistress t’do that for you?” you grumbled under your breath, pulling out the deli meat.
——
“So, how have your lessons with Father Kay been going?” your fiance’s mother asked as she fixed her hair in the mirror next to you. “You’ve seemed rather intent during the last few sermons, like you just couldn’t tear your eyes from the pulpit.”
Had you been that obvious? At least she didn’t suspect the real reason for your interest.
“Oh yeah, the lessons have been so… eye opening,” you exclaimed, twisting the truth just enough so it didn’t feel like an outright lie. “They’ve allowed me a lot of introspection, and I’ve learned so much about coming to terms with my… faith.”
“Isn’t that wonderful?” Matthew’s mother remarked, turning to take your hands in hers, and you quickly plastered a smile in place. “I am so proud of you for coming to the light,” she continued, clicking her tongue with joy. “Oh, and you and my darling Matthew are going to make just the sweetest married couple. I couldn’t be happier with this match!”
Clearing your throat, you fought back a grimace. “Speaking of Matthew… was he visiting you guys the other night? I couldn’t seem to get a hold of him, and he wouldn’t say where he was,” you mused innocently, hoping to plant a seed of doubt in his mother’s mind.
“The other night? No, we haven’t seen Matty all week,” she answered thoughtfully. “Maybe he was out with some friends?” she suggested.
“Maybe,” you agreed hesitantly, “I mentioned it to them too and they hadn’t seen him either.” Shrugging, you checked your reflection before looking down at your watch. “I better get going, don’t want to be late for my lesson. I thought I’d just check. I’ll see you later!”
Quickly leaving his mother looking slightly perplexed, you hurried back toward the sanctuary in search of Kay. It looked as if most of the congregation had already filed out, the room seemingly empty and you were about to head to his office when you felt someone grip your wrist, tugging you into the shaded alcove nearby with a gasp, your heart hammering in your chest.
“There you are,” Kay murmured and you instantly relaxed in his embrace as soon as you realized it was him.
“What are you doing? What if someone sees us?” you asked, melting with a sigh as he pressed his lips to yours, unable or perhaps unwilling to step away from him.
“I can’t get you off my mind,” Kay whispered, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Do you know how hard it is to preach with you in the congregation? When my thoughts get away from me and I start thinking… unholy things?”
Kay shook his head softly, his long dark curls shivering. “You’re entirely too distracting for your own good, love.”
A grin tugged at your lips. “And I’m not even trying,” you pointed out teasingly. “Imagine if I really wanted to distract you.”
A visible shiver ran through him and you wondered what he was thinking about to make him shudder so-- if he was thinking about your last meeting and how you’d made him feel.
Before you could tease him further, remembering the way he’d nearly dropped a communion wafer down a lady’s dress earlier when he’d been too distracted, his mouth was once more on yours, kissing you insistently.
“Kay…” you murmured, gently breaking the kiss, though it nearly killed you.
“I know… you’re right,” he sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. “We should take this back to my office before we get caught.”
As soon as the door shut behind you, you purposefully locked it, not wanting a repeat of the last time. “Mmm, good idea, love,” he whispered against your lips, pulling the stiff white collar from his throat as he walked you backwards, his hands slipping to your waist while your lips impatiently found his.
Tripping on the corner of his desk, you fell backwards against the cluttered bookshelf behind you, knocking the air from your lungs in a rush. Teetering on the edge of the shelf above, the still open bottle of communion wine Kay’d thoughtlessly left behind earlier toppled over, spilling down the front of your blouse to add insult to injury. Luckily there wasn’t much of the dark red wine left, but still enough to stain.
“Oh, shit, [y/n], I’m sorry!” Kay exclaimed, quickly righting the empty bottle and grabbing a handkerchief from his desk to dab at the bright right splotch right over your breasts.
“Kay,” you said, gently taking his hand, “I don’t think that’s gunna help,” you pointed out, your lips twitching with amusement as he realized where his hand was hovering.
“Oh,” he breathed, “I’m so-- I’m sorry, I--”
Not wanting him to apologize further, you pressed your lips to his, cutting him off. “It’s okay,” you murmured as you pulled back, your fingers going to the buttons down your front.
“What are you doing?” Kay asked, frozen, his eyes darting downwards.
“I need to take this off,” you answered, slowly unbuttoning the last few buttons and he swallowed at the sight of your cleavage. “Like what you see, Kay?” you asked, and he wet his lips, his eyes traveling over you, watching each subtle rise and fall of your breasts with each breath you took.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, tearing his eyes from your chest as you pulled him back in for a kiss, which he eagerly reciprocated, lifting you in his arms to carry to his desk, setting you atop it as he lowered himself to his chair, moving closer as you parted your legs for him.
Gasping as his lips left yours to travel lower, exploring your neck, you arched instinctively into his touch and he kissed his way downward, his hands coming to rest at the tops of your thighs and you opened your legs further, your skirt inching up.
“Oh, Kay,” you sighed, your chest heaving against his mouth as his tongue laved against your feverish skin. “I have--some good news,” you panted, arousal filling you by the moment, your cunt aching, screaming out to be filled, to be touched -- anything to bring some relief.
“What’s that?” he asked distractedly, his lips dragging down the slope of your breast to rest between them, kissing your sternum chastely before his chin tilted up, his eyes seeking yours.
“I’ve found some proof that Matthew’s been unfaithful.”
“Good… good,” Kay murmured hesitantly.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, running your fingers through his curls, worry suddenly clutching you as his reluctance. “Please don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind,” you whispered, ice cold fear running through your veins.
“What? No! Not at all, [y/n], no,” he exclaimed quickly, shaking his head, his cheeks still flushed. “I just want this sneaking around to be over with,” he admitted. “It makes me wonder if I’m any better than him.”
“Don’t say that,” you murmured, taking his face between your hands.
“Sometimes it scares me how much I want you. It feels… so wrong and so incredibly right all at the same time.”
You couldn’t help but smile.
“Do you want this?” you asked, guiding his hand to the hem of your skirt, pushed halfway up your thighs. “Because I can wait til we--”
“I want you,” Kay insisted, cutting you off and heat washed through you afresh at his words.
“Who am I to argue?” you murmured, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra, letting it slide down your arms, baring your chest to him. The way his breath hitched and his emerald eyes traveled over you hungrily only fanned the flames of your want higher still.
Guiding Kay’s hand between your legs, you practically shuddered as his fingers brushed your clothed sex, your panties completely soaked through.
“Oh, [y/n],” Kay gasped, his pupils dilating as he gazed up at you, “you’re so wet, is this all for me?” he asked, swallowing thickly and you nodded.
“Yes, Father. I want you so bad,” you whined, leaning in closer to whisper in his ear. “My cunt’s aching for you.”
“Oh God,” Kay moaned, his eyes fluttering shut; the lewdness of your words making him shiver.
“You’re such a bad girl,” he muttered, hooking his finger beneath the crotch of your panties, dragging it aside so he could feel you directly as his mouth resumed its exploration of your now completely bare breasts, your nipples hardening in the chill air.
You gasped as Kay covered one with his mouth, circling your peaked bud slowly as his fingers hesitantly delved your slick folds, refamiliarizing himself with your body.
“Oh--!” you sighed, arching into each touch, Kay’s curls brushing your skin lightly, bringing fresh goosebumps.
“I want to taste you,” he groaned, his voice hoarse as he switched to your other breast and his fingers slid out of you, seeking the edge of your knickers with both hands to ease them down your hips.
Huffing a soft laugh, you leaned back against the top of Kay’s desk, lifting your hips so he could rid you of the offending garment and for a moment Kay’s gaze took you in-- half naked and sprawled back atop his desk, your legs spread open for him.
“[y/n], you’re so beautiful,” he breathed, awe and want in his voice, and he shook his head softly, leaning in to press his lips to the inside of your knee, the feather light caress enough to send a shiver racing through you. “I never thought I’d get to see you like this again,” Kay confessed, bringing a small smile to your kiss swollen lips.
“Do you want me, Father?” you asked, finding the more you called him that, the more you liked it.
Kay’s eyes flashed, darkened by a lust that always took you by surprise when you saw it on his face.
“Oh God, yes,” he said hoarsely as his lips dragged across your skin, down your inner thigh. “I want to hear how much you need me,” he said, the longing in his voice clear.
“Please, Father. Kay,” you panted, watching as he switched legs, kissing you slowly, your anticipation building til you didn’t think you could bear it any longer. “Please, I need you, Kay,” you whimpered as he paused right before reaching your throbbing sex, his breath fanning over your skin and you squirmed desperately, gasping as he hesitantly kissed you.
His movements were reluctant at first and you couldn’t blame him, he’d been out of practice for a long time, after all. But as his tongue swiped against you, hitting your bundle of nerves, your breath hitched and you heard him moan softly.
“Guide me, [y/n],” he murmured, his hands sliding up your legs. “I want to make you feel good, love.”
A grin tugging at your lips, you nodded breathlessly. “I can do that.”
This time as he began to explore your cunt with his tongue, you instructed him where to taste you, guiding him to your clit once more, a low moan bursting from your lips when he found it, circling it eagerly, memorizing it’s location before testing you further, alternating between using the tip of his tongue with broader rougher swipes to see how you’d react.
Soon he had you writhing beneath his mouth, having found a perfect rhythm and you had to cover your mouth with your hand to muffle your needy sounds. When you felt his fingers tease your entrance, coating his digits with your slick you let out a soft whine, wanting more and he obliged, pressing into you and you clenched around him, nearly coming at the sensation of being filled.
“Oh, Kay,” you mewled as your body tensed, fighting the urge to dig your fingers into his hair as you came against his mouth, shuddering as he finally lifted his face, wanting to make sure you were completely finished.
“How was--?” Kay cut off with a groan, shaking his head as he helped you sit up.
“What?” you asked gently, tilting his face to wipe his cheeks.
“I don’t wanna be that guy. You know, the one who’s so self conscious he had to ask about his performance,” he muttered wryly and you smiled, snaking your arms around his neck.
“You still know how to make me feel good, Kay,” you assured him with a content sigh, kissing him tenderly and he seemed to relax. “Now, how about I take care of this for you?” you asked, your foot gliding over the bulge in his trousers and he groaned.
“I shouldn’t… not again…” he murmured reluctantly, guilt creeping into his voice. “It should be my penance for what I just did.”
“Kay,” you sighed, reaching for your bra. “You don’t have to think like that any more,” you said gently.
“It’s going to take me some time to get used to that,” he replied sheepishly. “Catholic guilt is one hell of a drug.”
“If you say no, I won’t,” you assured him, slipping off his desk. “I just want to take care of you like you took care of me.”
Kay caught your hand and pulled you back to him with a smile. “It’s alright, love. This time I wanted to give without expecting anything in return.”
“Fuck, I love you,” you groaned, your eyes falling to your ruined blouse. “Now we just gotta figure out how I’m getting home without someone noticing that.”
Little did you know however, that that was the least of your worries. Quickly moving away from the door, Matthew scowled. Having come to find you, he’d heard everything; your moans, though stifled had still carried.
-------------------
Everything Taglist: @magic-multicolored-miracle @midnightseance @slutforrobbiebro @the-freckled-luba @rob-private/@firstpersonnarrator @xenteaart @gurlimtired @phoenixhits
#season of the witch#kay x reader#priest!kay x reader#priest!kay#robert sheehan#robert sheehan character fic#priest kink tw#catholicism tw#infidelity tw#my writing#fic: want
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