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vanderlindemorgans · 3 years

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Cross My Heart (Chapter 5)

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Rating: Explicit/18+

Summary: A traitorous Agent Whiskey returns to the United States on the run. Being cast out by Statesman, he soon finds that you’re the only person he can turn to - the embittered former flame from years long passed

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: Eventual smut, some references to alcoholism and drug use. Reader is in her late twenties but there is an age gap between her and Whiskey. Chapter specific warnings: one scene takes place in a hospital, some medical talk, more heavy drinking, talk of death and alcoholism (specifically related to drunk driving), mentions of drug addiction, Whiskey being a dick, lotta heavy topics in general.

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“Alright, so the X-Rays have come back and as you can probably already guess your left arm has been fractured”.

The news hadn’t been a shock to you at all - it was only logical that the result of being thrown off the back of a horse was your arm breaking from the impact of the fall, nevermind the sheer amount of pain that it had already caused you was even more indication that something was definitely wrong there. All things considered, it still wasn’t a pleasant piece of news to receive, causing you to let out a low groan as you settled back into the hospital gurney they had allocated to you after the ambulance had pulled you in. Dressed in only a hospital gown, you felt the chill from the room's air conditioning prick the edges of your skin, the coolness of temperature making the whole experience even more foreign to you. Of course, it wasn’t like you’d never been to a hospital before - an unlucky bout of croup had sent you to the emergency room as a little kid when you’d almost stopped breathing. At the resurgence of that particular memory you felt yourself shudder, recalling the hours spent passed out in a brightly lit room and being forced to drink gross tasting liquid that was meant to clear up your airways. At least you weren’t choking on your own breath this time round.

“Well that’s just fantastic. How long will it take to heal? I kinda got a ranch to run” you asked the doctor, who was standing off to the side consulting the clipboard nestled against his arm. Sighing, he looked up at you with a look of sympathy while he ran through the information he’d jotted down on his notes. “Usually it takes twelve weeks for fractures to heal - given the fact that a good part of your arm has been displaced you’ll need to be put into surgery to shift the bone back into place, which we’ll have scheduled for you in the next twenty-four hours. Afterwards, I’ll be putting you in a cast for a couple of weeks and you’ll have to come back in for checkups weekly. I’ll also give you a list of rehabilitation exercises you can do to ensure the recovery process goes as smoothly as possible” he explained. “After your surgery and subsequent discharge, I heavily recommend a few days bed rest due to the concussion you have sustained”.

“So I’m guessing most physical labour is out then” you muttered under your breath, sighing once you realized how heavily this would impact your ability to keep things running smoothly back at the ranch. Yes, you had employees but without you to oversee everything things would slow down and descend into madness real quickly. You wished you had allocated some sort of second in command for times like this, a manager of sorts to keep things in place while you recovered but you’d just never gotten around to it, brushing the thought aside every time it sprung up with a simple “Why would I need extra help anyway? Nothing ever happens around here”.

“You’d be correct on that. Now, I have some other patients to check on but I will be back in about 20 minutes or so to prep you for surgery, though I will send a nurse to give you some painkillers so you can stop feeling the worst of the pain for at least a little while” he replied. You went to thank him but before you could you felt a light touch graze along your right arm. Your eyes glanced over to where Jack’s hand was placed, his touch delicate and comforting, sparking that same feeling in your chest that you’d felt when he’d stroked your forehead back at the ranch. His eyes met your own for a moment, deep cedar brown looking at you with nothing more than concern and worry, somehow pulling at a single string of your heart even though you wanted to fight against it with all your might.

Snapping you focus back into place, you nodded back over to the doctor and thanked him for all he was doing, listening to his reassurances that he’d have you fixed up as soon as possible as he hurried on out of the room to his next patient in need. Once he was gone, you exhaled in annoyance and went back to staring aimlessly at the ceiling, mulling over the inconvenience of your predicament.

“Everything ok, sugar?” you heard Jack ask you, feeling his enchanting eyes study your expression, his anxiety over your wellbeing plain as day. Letting out a small laugh, you returned his question with a small smile of your own. “Does it look like I’m ok?” you joked, gesturing vaguely to your fractured arm.

He chuckled at your sarcasm, always enjoying that certain fire you had to your character that refused to silence itself. Unbeknownst to you, that was one of things that drew him towards you in the first place - his own air of cockiness and confidence was equally matched by your spitfire and sarcastic wit. Finding out the sweet disposition that lay behind that harshness the first time round had taken him by complete surprise, but only did more to endear himself to you. God, he was such a fool for losing that. He was certain that your sweetness was still there, closed behind even more layers of hurt and pain that he’d caused such a large hand in.

From the moment the ambulance had arrived, Jack had stayed beside you, refusing to leave for even a single moment. It was quite endearing, truth be told, a feeling that attempted to worm its way through your steadfast reasoning against him. He’s a liar. Don’t fall for his shit again, you repeated to yourself. Though it was becoming harder and harder to continue regarding him as your greatest mistake when he was behaving so kindly and gentlemanly towards you. Just a part of his deceptive charm, I guess, you thought bitterly.

“Y’know, you don’t have to worry about things gettin’ outta hand down at the ranch. I’m more than happy to step up and help” he spoke up, snapping your attention back to his words and out of your own contemplation. You thought about his proposal for a minute, the temptation to say yes seeming very appealing towards you, though somehow that felt like admitting to weakness. The ranch wasn’t his responsibility, it was yours, left to you by your dear parents. It was your obligation to run it in their stead - there’d been difficulties along the way, sure, including the occasional nasty cold every now and then but you had pulled through without any trouble. You didn’t need help or any sort of handout, and you were more than capable of taking care of business by yourself, even with a broken arm.

Then again, it is gonna be kinda hard to run a business while being confined to bed rest. Briefly you thought about just closing the ranch for a couple of days while you got back on track yet once you thought about the loss in profits you discarded that idea quickly. It wasn’t like you were struggling to make ends meet but a dip in profits could cause a bit of issue.

“Yeah but...It’s my responsibility. I can’t just ignore that because I got a stupid broken arm” you rebuffed, though you didn’t sound entirely convinced of what you were saying yourself. Sadly, stubbornness was your nature and even if you knew you were fighting a losing battle, sometimes it was more about the principle of having a position rather than whatever thing you were debating over. Some would say that was quite a counterproductive way to look at things, and you’d agree with them, yet you still remained stubborn in spite of them, feeding back into the cycle.

“Darlin’, with all due respect, I think what’s best for you is that you take a step back and let someone else take the reins. You need to allow yourself to rest a lil. Tell me, in all the years of runnin’ the ranch by yourself, have you ever once taken a day off?”.

“No, but-”.

“Exactly as I thought. You’ve been doing an amazing job at keeping things together for all these years, sweetheart, but you gotta relax a bit. Let me help you” he interrupted, gazing at you with those heart-meltingly sweet eyes of his, a look which made you seize up ever so slightly in minor fake annoyance. Little shit, he had to be doing that on purpose.

“Fine, only if it’ll get you to shut up” you relented, rolling your eyes in a dramatic fashion and hitting your head back down into the pillow below, eliciting a playful smirk from him in return. “That’s my girl, stubborn as always” he jested.

To that you cocked an eyebrow at him in disbelief. “Your girl? Careful there, Jack, for a minute I thought you were capable of genuine compassion and care. I may have once been your girl, cowboy, but not anymore. Or did you happen to forget?”.

His own expression softened slightly in regards to your snide remark, his mischievous grin faltering while he turned his gaze to the floor, looking somewhat sheepish towards what you had said, a far cry from his usual air of arrogance. “Yeah, I guess I deserve that” he murmured. “Tell me, sugar, do you ever think one day you’ll believe me when I say that I’m sorry?”.

“When pigs fly, dearest” you smiled with a shit-eating grin, though you couldn’t miss that momentary flash of hurt in his eyes that made you pull back, a sharp pang striking through your chest that hurt harder than the agonizing ache in your arm, which really, was saying something. Could that be...guilt, perhaps?, you thought, searching Jack’s face for any further sign of offense. If he was feeling hurt, he was doing a pretty stellar job at hiding it. Maybe it was nothing, and even if he was hurt, well, he said it himself, he deserved it. Without giving you another minute to ponder your own feelings, a welcome interruption in the arrival of a nurse found you, shifting your thoughts towards the relief of finally getting some painkillers into you.

___

The surgery had gone over well, and after a grueling day spent hanging out in that hospital room hopped up on painkillers you were finally discharged late afternoon the following day. The worst of your concussion had cleared itself up too yet you were still confined to your bed for those first few days - the doctor was insistent on that fact, saying you could never be too careful. You’d begrudgingly complied, not wanting to cause any further problems to your health, and even if you had tried to go against the doctor’s orders, you knew that Jack would be there to send you off back to bed if you dared lift a finger.

Jack had doted on you the entire time, making sure you were well hydrated and cool enough in the midst of the hot Texas summer, fetching you snacks and whatever else you needed from downstairs. In his own words, what kind of man would he be if he didn’t take care of an ailing woman. You’d rolled your eyes and insisted that he didn’t have to go all out with looking after you yet he’d insisted. It was somewhat heartwarming, and it felt nice to be taken care of again after those last few years alone. It reminded you of when you’d come down with the flu back in third grade, staying home in bed lazily watching television and barely being able to keep your eyes open while your mum made soup in the kitchen. You could feel your heart drop at the mere recollection of your parents, pain that stayed beneath the surface rising up in full force. Usually you pushed those feelings down, not wanting to become distracted from the business, but today, you allowed yourself the indulgence of missing them. What would they think if they could see you now? Would they be proud, or disappointed?

Feeling your stomach grumble, you shifted over in bed and reached your only good arm out to grab onto the half-eaten grilled cheese Jack had brought in for you five minutes before, letting out a low wince at the pain that writhed through your other arm, which had been placed into a cast and sling for the time being. Already you couldn’t wait for the day you could get the damned thing taken off - you hadn’t been able to shower and you felt grotty and gross. It wasn’t like you had to impress anyone, it was just you and Jack lying about the place. Still, you could only take so many days of waking up with unwashed greasy hair. And it was itchy too. Oh dear god, it was fucking itchy. You’d heard about how itchy the plaster could get second-hand but you never anticipated it to be that bad.

Directing your eyes to the clock on your bedside, you took notice of the time and let out a small relieved sigh. You could finally take another one of those painkillers, the fourth and dismally last one for you of the day.

Your relief quickly fizzled out into disappointment when you realised the packet of painkillers that had been sitting by your bedside was empty. “Seriously? It’s only been a few days, I couldn’t have gone through them already…” you muttered to yourself in annoyance. Nevermind, there was another packet downstairs. You may have been perfectly capable of getting out of bed and retrieving it yourself, though you found yourself not wanting to be bothered with such a task. “Hey Jack, you there? I ran out of painkillers, could ya run some up to me?” you called out.

“Sure thing, sweetheart” you heard him shout back, and no more than two minutes later he was striding through your bedroom door, carrying exactly what you had requested within his palms. “How are you feelin’?” he asked.

“No better than six minutes ago when you last asked me that. Thanks for bringing these up though, fuck that stupid horse for bucking me off” you grumbled, sniping the blessed white packet out of his hands and into your fingers. “Pain making you grumpy, sweet girl? You seem a bit more full of spitfire than usual today” he joked.

“Nah, you’re getting the discounted version today. If I wanted to vocalise exactly what I was feeling right now you’d be obliterated in a second” you laughed, chucking a tablet into your mouth and washing it down with a large gulp of water, anxious to feel some semblance of relief.

“You don’t say. How’s your head doing, though? No dizziness or anything like that?”.

“I’m fine, Jack, I promise. You don’t have to fawn all over me just because I broke my dumb arm” you assured, rolling your eyes at him.

“I wouldn’t call in fawning, I only want to make sure you're comfortable and all that. Not only because of your arm and all” he smiled gently, reaching out to brush a stray hair off your forehead. It could have been the heat of the room but you could have sworn your skin felt on fire the moment he touched you. You could feel him press the back of his fingers against your head, unconsciously allowing your breath to hitch at his touch. And just like that, the warmth of his hand was gone, leaving an invisible searing mark in its place and your own head full of frenzied and confused thoughts.

“Like I said earlier, just call out if you need anything else, alright darlin’?” he said as he was leaving, words that you didn’t care to take notice of as he left you to yourself again. Blinking slowly, you couldn’t even fully begin to describe what had just taken place, or why one little gesture was throwing your mind into somersaults. Why did his mere touch have to affect you like that? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? Groaning loudly, you settled yourself underneath the sheet covering you and huffed at nobody in particular, cursing both yourself and him for even existing. For fucks sake...

___

Taking a sip of bourbon from your glass, you leaned against the side of the stairs of the veranda with your gaze fixated off into the distance, though you didn’t take any notice of what lay ahead, lost deep in your own thoughts that clouded your mind. It’d been a couple more days, and you’d finally been able to get out of bed and get back to helping out around the ranch - not that you were still of any use to anyone, given the state of your arm. It felt good to be back overseeing things, albeit a bit more behind the scenes than you had been in years. It’d be a good month or so before you were able to move your arm properly and have things back to normal. At first that fact did nothing short of irritating you, since you weren’t one to lie about helpless when work needed to be done. Over the last few days though, seeing the ranch go about with business as usual with Jack’s extra help had put you at ease a little. It still bothered you somewhat that you had to be asking any sort of help from Jack Daniels of all people, though really, he was the one offering it in the first place so you hadn’t so much as asked him to do anything, moreso conceding to his instistance at the behest of your stubbornness.

The pain was getting a little better too, though whether that had more to do with the painkillers or not remained to be seen. For example, you couldn’t feel anything now but you had just ingested two glasses of pure straight bourbon, so of course any type of pain would be numbed. Remember when it could numb more than just that? You let out a small snicker at the thought, sounding as hollow and empty as it felt. Once upon a time you might have been classed as relatively lightweight, a fact that changed after years of the trials and tribulations life had thrown your way. You still got drunk easy, but it took a good few glasses before you actually passed out.

“You know, you should let me sign that for ya”.

Hearing that familiar voice ring out from behind you, you swivel around so see its owner standing right in the opened doorway of your home, his hands casually resting in his pockets and his frame leant against the wall. “What are we, in middle school? I don’t want it getting dirty” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him for good measure.

He smirked right back at you, letting out a small snicker that mirrored your own. “Why not? It’s not like you're gonna have to be wearin’ it forever. A little scribble in permanent marker wouldn’t do ya any harm” Jack grinned, taking a large step forward to descend down to your level, seating himself right next to you on the veranda. You cocked an eyebrow at him, letting your fingertips trail over the edge of the glass in your hands while you stared at him with utter audacity. “And yet I know you’re only so persistent in signing it because you’ll write something crude or vaguely flirty” you snipped.

“How little you think of me, sugar. I’d never dream of doin’ such a thing. I am nothing if not a gentleman”.

“Oh, do cut the charm, Jack. What is it you want?”.

“Please, can’t a man share a glass of bourbon with a lady without being subjected to the Spanish Inquisition?” he asked, wearing his devilish and frustratingly charming grin as he spoke, the appearance of which you swore made your cheeks flush a little bit hotter. Probably because of the alcohol...and it is hot out here after all...

“Not this lady, cowboy” you stated, gulping down the last dredges of bourbon in your glass and placing it back down to the floor with a thud. You went to go grab the bottle from beside you but found Jack had already snatched it up, pouring you another glass. Mumbling out a small thank you, you considered asking him if he wants a glass of his own, however once you caught sight of his silver Statesman issued flask in his hands you dismissed the idea entirely. With nothing else left to say, you glanced back up to the sky above towards where the moon was hanging over you two, the delicate light illuminating the stretches of countryside around your property in a soft glow, one that was both enchanting and eerie at the same time. Every now and then you would be reminded of how beautiful the Texan countryside could look, whether it be bathed in the rays of that damned blistering sun or the enigmatic glimmer of moonlight. It could pull you back to moments lost in time, years ago sitting right where you were in that very same spot, seven years younger and with the exact same man sitting beside you, head rested on his shoulder and looking out into the vast expanse of midnight black. Funny how things change, don’t they?

Out the corner of your eye you saw Jack shake his head, his eyes quiet, the sparkle of stark confidence bordering on plain arrogance missing. It was a similar look to the one he’d given you at the hospital that night, before he’d tried to cover it up with a certain facade of indifference. “What will it take for you to believe I’m sorry? What happened between us, it was all-” he started before being unceremoniously cut off by your interjection.

“In the past? I’m well aware of that. Doesn’t change how I feel” you stopped him. You’d anticipated him throwing out that line from day one and you’d come prepared. Shut it down. Don’t let him try to swindle you for a fool.

His expression changed to one more serious, a hint of him being slightly miffed that you cut him off in the first place. “Let me finish, darlin’. I’m gonna level with you for a second - what I did to you was one of the worst mistakes of my life. Letting everything fall apart like it did, I never should have let it happen” he expressed, his tone straddling between being firm and also being gentle. Cocking an eyebrow at him, you turned back to your glass of liquor, swirling the liquid around idly in a way that reminded you of that persistent thought running round your head. Did he have a point? Were you being too harsh on him?

Don’t become soft on him. Don’t do it. You shifted back into focus, pushing those thoughts far to the back of your tipsy mind while you took a couple large sips of liquor as if it were a lifeline. “Worse than whatever mistake led you to showing up on my doorstep?” you asked, eager to direct the conversation right back out of that uncomfortable territory and into something a bit more easier to stomach. Maybe later on you could ponder the true depths of your perceptions of Jack. Right now, though, you wanted to get wasted and not have to think about anything anymore. And hey, it’s not like I wasn’t wondering about the events that led him here in the first place anyway.“You never did tell me what happened. I know you said it was none of my concern but...I want to know. Call it a spate of drunken curiosity, if ya want”.

The question alone was enough to draw Jack’s face from being merely serious to an expression more cold and distant. He looked away from you entirely and rested his gaze to the few steps below the two of you, his hand clenching in a subconscious act that alone was enough to tell you his own reservations regarding the topic. “Truth is, I’ve been fucking things up for a good couple of years. What happened to lead me here, well, it ain’t a pretty story”.

“I don’t care, Jack, I wanna know” you asserted, surging with a sense of fiery confidence. It might have been the alcohol giving you a bit more moxie to push the topic. One thing was for sure though: you wanted answers, and you didn’t wanna let this go. Stretching your legs out, you finished off the glass you had while you waited for him to reply, not wanting to cave to your request even if he was looking at you like you’d threatened to kill the President.

Finally, he let out a low groan of annoyance and leant against the side of the veranda, not affording you a single look as he launched into his tale. “Basically what happened is some agents from an English based secret service came over to the states as a last resort - their base got blown up by someone and the two guys that approached us were the only ones left alive. Well, them and this other guy we had at our headquarters, but that’s a whole other story. The people behind the attack were a group called the Golden Circle, and Statesman had already been investigating them for awhile. I was called in by Champ to partner up with the Kingsman fellas, do the regular secret agent spiel of espionage and savin’ the world and all that crap. But, me and these other agents, we had an...ideological disagreement. I was covertly tryin’ to hinder them until the older guy got wise to my shit and shot me in the head. Ginger managed to bring me in and revive me, I went over to Cambodia where the two agents were confronting the leader of the Golden Circle, and to make a long story short things got nasty pretty quickly. I barely escaped with my life” he explained.

You nodded along to his explanation, the load of information being a lot to take in the first time round. You were always somewhat aware of Jack’s position as a secret agent though you were never privy to the nitty and gritty details - in fact, the way you’d found out about it in the first place was by complete accident and Jack had to beg Agent Champ to allow you to become cleared on even knowing the basics of his true work behind the front of being a Statesman investor. “And these ideological disagreements were…?” you pushed.

“Trust me, you don’t wanna know” he deflected.

“Try me”.

He didn’t reply to you straight away, instead staring at you with a stark look of confliction across his face, an inner turmoil brewing inside of him on whether or not he should tell you even more. Being cast out as a traitor, he didn’t have to worry about breaking any sort of rule of confidentiality, so if you had to wager a guess at what his dilemma was, then it must have been that he felt mildly ashamed, or even embarrassed about the whole situation. In your mind though, you’d let him keep his secrets for weeks now, but if he was going to stay in your house you wanted to at the bare minimum know what he did that was so bad that he simply couldn’t return back home anymore. “Well go on then, hit me with your best shot” you prodded further, hopefully enough to get his demeanour to crack and for him to spill what exactly the entire fuss had been about. And sure enough, crack he did.

Running a hand across his forehead, he let out a low exasperated sigh, one that would have been inaudible if you hadn’t been seated beside him, indicating the exact moment he finally decided to break his own silence and reveal everything to you. “The Golden Circle were primarily a drug cartel and terrorist organization based out in the hidden depths of the Cambodian jungle. Their leader had devised a plot that involved lacing their distribution of drugs with a new type of chemical she created that caused death. Since their supply was mass distributed over the globe, they were holding the entire populace of drug users and addicts hostage to their respective governments, demanding a payout for the antidote. They didn’t, however, anticipate the President and other world leaders not really giving a red hot shit about the lives of junkies. Being the noble men they are, the Kingsman agents as well as the rest of Statesman were striving to get ahold of the antidote to save all those people. And that, is where me and them disagreed” Jack elaborated, avoiding your gaze in what appeared to be a calculated move in order to refrain from seeing your reactions to his admittance. In the span of two minutes, your expression had shifted from intense curiosity to straight up bafflement at what he was saying. It didn’t make sense - why was he against distributing the antidote? He was a secret agent, wasn’t he meant to save the world and innocent lives and all that?

“Let me get this straight - you were assigned on a mission to try to save the lives of innocent people, and you chose...not to do that” you asked, your tone laced with judgment. Not that you had intended for what you said to have come across any different. If what he was implying was right, then that would mean...

“Well, when you put it like that, sure, it sounds awful. I will concede, it wasn’t my best move. But all the people who ingested those drugs did so willingly. They knew they were taking a gamble on their lives the moment they stuck a damn needle into their arms” Jack grumbled defensively, allowing you to gawk back at him in utter disbelief. “Jack, no, you can’t seriously believe that? So what you’re saying is that the kid that decided to get high with his mates one weekend at a party deserves to die? Is that right?”.

“No, no, I didn’t mean like that, I just…”.

“Really? ‘Cause it sounds a lot like you’re saying that innocent people should die for their poor choices” you cut in, shaking your head to further drive your point in. “Jesus, just when I thought you couldn’t be a bigger asshole you proved me wrong”.

“Sweetheart, please, I know. It was a mistake, you don’t have to keep rubbing it in”.

“You know it’s a mistake, but do you truly feel it? Do you really feel remorse? Because if you don’t then it’s just a bunch of empty words” you rebuffed, shooting him with a cold piercing glare that could make an entire continent freeze over. Around about this time, you really began to take notice of the dazed feeling clouding you, every glass of liquor draining straight into your brain and making you feel like your entire head was swimming. Maybe take it easy on the next glass, why don’t ya? With that thought, you shoved the glass off to the side with your free arm and bit your lip, debating whether or not you should even say what you wanted to next. That debate, however, did not last very long as you found yourself blurting out exactly what was on your mind within two seconds of your last thought. “Jack, look...maybe I’ll hate myself for saying this later, and maybe it’s just the liquor talking but I don’t think you’re an inherently bad person. I think you’re an arrogant son of a bitch who does cruel stupid things but probably has a decent enough heart. You just...you gotta stop with this shit. Stop with the betrayals, and the lies, and the false promises, all of it, and just be the real you. The Jack I knew may be a prick but he was never one to let an innocent die on his watch. What’s really behind all this?”.

He continued to glare from his position beside you, somewhat intent on making you recant and drop the whole subject entirely. You wouldn’t go down that easy though, and he knew it, for as stubborn as Jack was you were at least ten times moreso, so when he folded first and trained his eyes low to the ground, you knew that he’d finally conceded. You could feel a whole shift in his demeanour from where you sat, the mask of defensive anger slowly falling away to reveal what was truly underneath: hurt. Pure, raw, unbridled hurt. Anguish that felt especially familiar to you and spoke to a part of yourself that you’d been turning away from for years, and even before he said those words you knew exactly what he was going to say.

“Years ago, before I became an agent to Statesman, I was married to the young woman I’d fallen for in high school. I think I told you about her in passing maybe once, or twice, I don’t know…” Jack started, trailing off once he began to fully re-immerse himself in the past, heartache plainly sewn across his features. It was then that you felt an ache of your own in your chest, a heavy feeling of guilt descending upon you once you realised the gravity of what he was saying. “I remember. You said her name was Lily, wasn’t it?” you murmured, your voice small and unsure, with a hint of something else present too. Regret? Guilt? Whatever it was, you couldn’t quite put a name to it, but it was there, strong as anything and clearly wasn’t going away any time soon.

Jack let out a small hum in reply, everything about his composure presumably a million miles away from everything around the both of you.“So you do remember” he muttered, brushing his fingers over the edge of his silver flask that he had cradled in his handles, tracing the Statesman logo engraved on the side with the pad of his thumb. “I remember you askin’ me about her the first time you came back to my apartment in New York - you saw the photo of her I kept on my desk and asked who she was. I only told you briefly that she was long gone, but I never told you how. The both of us were only twenty-three, and she was pregnant with our first child, a baby boy. Last time I saw her she left the house to go to the convenience store a few streets over”. He stopped himself for a split second, the darkness of his eyes being the all-too recognisable sign of falling deep into his own recollection, feeling as if he was reliving every memory that he revisited in his mind. “Twenty minutes later I get a phone call from a cop, saying there’d been an incident. Meth addicts had robbed the store at gunpoint and she’d been caught in the crossfire. She died instantly, and I wasn’t there to say goodbye. I never got to meet our baby boy, I never got to hold her in my arms again and say how much I loved her, because she was taken from me by a couple of meth-addled scumbags”.

You were honestly at a loss for words, not knowing if saying something would be the appropriate option or not. He was right, you knew he was married before - the time with the picture that he mentioned was the most you had heard of her. He never brought Lily up again, and you never thought to ask, since in your mind it wasn’t any of your business who Jack loved before. Now, the pieces were falling into place, the interwoven connections of his past to his actions as an agent making all the more sense to you.

What you wanted to do most was lean forward and envelop him into your embrace, tell him that you understood more than anyone what exactly that felt like, and even permit yourself to pour out your own heart to him. Drunk as you were though, you couldn’t talk yourself into doing anything more than placing a reassuring hand on his knee, letting your touch be soft and hesitant in case he shrugged you off, since you did basically just goad him into revealing his own wounds in the name of having answers. “Jack, I...I had no idea, I-”.

“How could you have known? I never told you” he mumbled flatly. In the dim veranda light, all though it was faint, you could swear that there was a teardrop lingering in the corner of his cedar brown eyes, nudging the dagger of guilt further into your heart. Say something, you idiot.

Starting off softly, you let your hand rest firmer on his knee, trying to catch his eyes into your own. Tearing his glance away from the flask, he looked back at you with the same raw grief that you had seen on your own face so many times. “I know it must have hurt like hell losing her. And you have every right to feel angry, and hurt that she was taken, but that doesn’t give you the right to hate. Every addict in the world is not the same man who took her life. You can’t just-” you started, before the sound of Jack’s harshest tone cut through your words like a knife.

“How would you know? Do you have any idea what it feels like to hurt, to have lost everything because of someone else’s choices?” he spat, anger seething in his scowl that was directed solely at you. It had taken you by surprise at first - as a reflex you withdrew your hand quickly from him as if he were burnt, perplexed at his sudden outburst. That didn’t last long however, as soon enough confusion was replaced by your own flair of anger. Now it was your turn to get defensive.“I think I do know what it’s like to hurt and to lose. In case you’ve forgotten, dickhead, there’s two people who should be right inside this house that aren’t anymore and haven’t been for about six fucking years now!” you yelled back.

Shit. He’d forgotten about your parents. The anger that had been in him disappeared without a trace right then, being replaced by something close to resembling remorse over his behaviour. “I...I didn’t mean...fuck, sugar, I…I’m sorry. I don’t even know what to say” he apologised. You didn’t say anything back to him. You didn’t want to dignify him with any sort of a response. First of all, how dare he? You were only trying to empathise with him, and here he was biting your head off for daring to suggest that he doesn't hate every drug user on the planet. Why do I even fucking bother?

The awkward silence between you hung for awhile, the two of you not wanting to break it for your own different reasons. You could feel Jack stealing glances at you, like he was trying to talk himself into saying something but never had the courage to follow through. Huffing to yourself, you took in your next glass fast enough to make your head spin. You’d have to turn in for the night eventually, and truth be told you were considering doing so right then when you heard Jack speak up.

“I never did ask...if you don’t mind me askin’ that is...what happened to your folks anyway?” he asked hesitantly, as if he knew the question was fat-witted to begin with. Not that you minded too much by then. Drunk you was a lot more forgiving than you were sober.

Taking in a heavy breath, you relayed your tale of woe to him, one hand placed steady to your side to keep you sitting upright. “It was late, and they were coming back from a friend’s 50th birthday party. Their friend lived in downtown Dallas, so they had a fair way to go to get from there to here. When they were almost on the highway, an out-of-control car barrelled towards them, smashing into the front of their windscreen and killing both of them instantly. The driver of the other car had been drinking - according to the local news he was a known alcoholic and had been out having a heated argument with his friend in the passenger seat. The only survivor of the entire collision had been his friend”.

You saw Jack blink at you in silent shock, the weight of your words falling heavily on him while he continued to process it all. “Shit, darling, I feel like an even bigger piece of shit than I already did. If you slapped me clean across the face and kicked me out on my ass after this I wouldn’t blame ya one bit” he replied to you solemnly in a way that didn’t leave you questioning the authenticity of his words - he was genuinely sorry this time round. Taking his apology in stride, you shrugged back at him and acted as nonchalant about the whole thing as possible, not wanting to ponder the topic further. As far as you were concerned, you’d felt enough things for one day and would very much like a break from it all.

“It’s fine. You had no way of knowing. But please, if you take anything from this, at least listen to my words: externalising hate towards random people only feeds your trauma. It doesn’t resolve anything, and the only person left suffering in the end is yourself”.

He furrowed his brow at you, most likely feeling a little defensive that the topic had circled back around to here, but considering his unruly display of anger earlier he wasn’t one to indulge in his own instinctual need to defend his position. “But...didn’t you want the man who took your parents away to suffer? Didn’t you look at every other drunk driving incident in the papers with a little more anger and rage than before?” he asked, earning a single eyebrow raise from you in return. “I mean...I guess what I’m trying to say is...it’s so easy to hate...why didn’t you fall into that trap?”.

“Well, I did, for a little. It was almost tempting to look at every person I saw struggling with alcoholism in red. Since the man who caused the collision was already dead as a result of his own mistakes, at times I’d externalise part of that pain I was feeling onto others, and sometimes that anger became so hot and so burning that it was almost impossible to ignore. I realised pretty quickly that hating alcoholics wasn’t going to bring my parents back and that I’d have to make peace with their passing at some point. Honestly, I still haven’t processed a lot of that shit myself yet I’m still out here living my life as best I can, and really, with my own drinking habits I’d be a goddamn hypocrite to even try to find any true hatred in my heart towards heavy drinkers” you explained. Taking one last sip of bourbon, you discarded your glass off to your side and chuckled lightheartedly. “God, If I drink another glass I’m gonna collapse on the fucking floor. Think it might be time for me to turn in for the night. At least it’s Sunday tomorrow so we can sleep in a lil”.

“Y-you’re goin’ to bed? You’re not telling me to get lost or anything?” Jack sputtered in disbelief, which in turn earned him a minorly strange look from you. “Why would I do that?” you asked.

“I quite literally just admitted to treason against my former organization to you”.

“So? You made a mistake. A pretty fucking big mistake, and a shitty one at that, but still, a mistake. You obviously have some of your own pain you need to work through, and I can get that. Doesn’t mean I agree with what you did, but I get it. I’m not gonna kick you to the curb just because you have issues”.Upon saying that, you hoisted yourself up by latching your free arm onto the veranda’s fenceline, stumbling a little as you fought to maintain your balance while being both drunk and unable to fully utilise one of your arms. Nevertheless, you’d managed to straighten yourself up, and once you’d determined that you were alright to take yourself upstairs you faced on towards the front door and grasped at the brass knob in your hands, taking a brief pause to turn back and nod softly towards the man behind you. “Night Jack, I’ll see ya tomorrow” you called out, leaving him to sit there and watch you disappear back into the house with a certain look of dumbfounded astonishment.

Tag list (lemme know if you wanna be added): @giselatropicana

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey #jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #Kingsman #kingsman fanfiction #cross my heart #Kingsman: the golden circle #Pedro Pascal

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years

Text

And the Land is Dark

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark (Starker) Rating: Mature (M) Notes: This is my fic for @twokinkybeans‘s Jar of Dirt challenge. The kink was outdoor sex - so we got camping and nakedness! Warnings: outdoor sex, NSFW stuff, & the inevitable softness that comes with my work. Summary:

Tony and Peter alternate picking vacation destinations for the summer & it’s Peter’s turn. When he brought up camping, Tony had his reservations. It turns out that fresh air and Peter Parker are the perfect combination.

Read it on AO3 here

The most important thing for Tony in his relationship with Peter, was equality.

When they first met on MIT’s campus, Tony had no idea that Peter worked in his R&D department – it’d been a long time since he graced the actual Stark Industries building and couldn’t have possibly known the well-rounded, extremely attractive man worked FOR him.

They were in one of the alumni buildings, gathered with the last 30 years’ worth of MIT graduates celebrating something or another. The conversation didn’t veer close to anything professional – everyone knew what Tony did; breaching the topic only led to shop talk that he didn’t want to stomach more than absolutely necessary.

Finding out that Peter got his checks from his company didn’t change anything between them – it simply made Tony much more conscious of the power imbalance that could easily be made into an issue (and not necessarily from Peter himself). The age gap between them didn’t make him bat an eye, Tony preferred the men he dated to be somewhat younger. For both of their sakes, Tony made Peter’s desires to be independent his first priority.

That included, much to his dismay, vacation picking duties. Over the past 3 years they’d been together, Tony and Peter alternated who picked the destinations for the entirety of the summer. It was one of the only times of the year Tony didn’t have many obligations – he could carelessly spend it with Peter without feeling an ounce of guilt. He simply wished this was his year to pick.

Peter brought up the idea of taking a camping trip to start off their extended vacation around March. He showed Tony pictures of the Great Smoky Mountains for a few weeks before he finally told Peter he was game and would love camping in a secluded site on the banks of one of the streams running through the trail. Tony loved to camp and did a ton of it after he graduated from college and tried to sow his wild oats.

It quickly became apparent that Peter had never gone, however. Peter walked into REI with a determined grin that immediately turned panicked. His eyes got comically wide – Tony picking up on the overwhelmed feeling almost instantly. “It’s alright, Pete. We’ll start with the simple stuff and go from there. I’ve got your back,” Tony said softly, his arm wrapping around wide shoulders that were pinched together tightly. “Sleeping bags first.”

The rest of the adventure around the outdoor store was filled with Tony giving Peter a rundown on all of the different equipment while they picked it out. They settled for two huge sleeping bags, a 6-person tent, some campfire cooking utensils and a stove, and the little trinkets that Tony convinced them both they needed (because who didn’t need a waterproof match container?) Footing the bill didn’t feel bad at all, the smile on Peter’s face was more than worth it.

To really enjoy the camping experience, Peter convinced him that driving would be the best way to get to their mountain excursion – so, he talked Happy into letting him drive the man’s SUV in exchange for a couple extra weeks of vacation for him and Pepper. It was the easiest deal he ever made – but, Happy didn’t need to know that. They packed and repacked the car way more times than necessary before Peter deemed them ready to set out on the 12-hour drive.

Tony took the first driving shift; they set off around 3 in the morning to make the most out of the empty roads and lack of traffic. The espresso Peter made him before they left kept him wired for 5 hours straight – they watched the sun come up and sang to the playlist Peter put together when their StarkPhones actually got reception.

Peter took over after the second bathroom stop – Tony filled up the car and their coffee cups before they set out again. This time, the music stayed off; Tony put on his reading glasses and pulled out Fire & Blood, the book he’d been reading to Peter every night before they passed out for the last couple of weeks. It seemed juvenile, but it was soothing for them both. The story was compelling and got them through another big chunk of the drive.

Their next pit stop took a while. The closer they got to the mountains and the park they were staying in, the narrower the selection on food stops and grocery stores became. Tony caught Peter eyeing the McDonald’s they passed when they took the exit, which just so happened to be located right across the way from a local supermarket. The big coolers they got during their shopping adventure were empty and waiting to be filled with junk food meant to sustain 2 grown men for three days.

The sheer amount of packaged chips and cookies Tony watched Peter put into the cart made him laugh, his boyfriend at 26 still ate like a 10-year-old. The idea of letting go of the reins of his diet for the next few days quickly became a reality with every new and intriguing sweet Peter claimed tasted amazing. The plan was to hike around and enjoy the surroundings, anyway – that would require extra sustenance.

Getting the supplies situated and binging on McDonald’s took them another hour, both of them more than satisfied when they got back on the road to finish off the drive and finally get to their destination. As Tony drove, he talked about some of his own camping trips – the two of them laughing when he described the poison ivy he’d accidentally wiped his ass with. The view got better the closer they got and by the time they were pulling in to claim their camping spot, the sky was lit with a gorgeous sun surrounded by the most beautiful clouds.

A look of wonder passed across Peter’s face the further into the park they got. For the first time since Peter planned the trip, Tony realized that this was probably Peter’s first time ever seeing anything like this. Queens didn’t have a good view of the sky most of the time, let alone beautiful mountain passes and cotton-ball clouds. Reaching across the center console, Tony gripped Peter’s hand tightly. They shared a smile before Peter turned his attention back to the view out the window.

As far as first days went, Tony didn’t have anything to complain about. Watching Peter attempt to put the tent up before realizing that a single pull would do it provided entertainment Tony didn’t count on. The rosiness of Peter’s cheeks when he caught Tony looking at him making it even better. “You knew how easy that was, didn’t you?” Peter questioned, affection and annoyance battling for dominance on his face.

“I sure did. I thought it would be better to let you figure it out. How are you going to learn if I do everything for you?” Tony looked at him pointedly, the man more than familiar with the fact that Peter put learning and knowledge above all else. The eye roll he got was totally fair, and all the more adorable because of it.

They unpacked the campfire stove and all the accessories for it and put them into the tent – Tony could tell that Peter was already ready to start exploring. After getting changed, the pair set out for a long hike – they caught the sunset standing on a flat summit of the mountain closest to them. The best part of it all was the look of awe still clearly etched on Peter’s face – there were colors reflecting in his eyes that didn’t even exist in the confines of New York’s city limits.

Hand-in-hand, Tony used the last dredges of light to get them back to their campsite. Peter held the lantern for him while he started a fire when they got back – the idea of having warm food one they both were looking forward to becoming an actuality. He talked through the entire process as he did it – Peter listened carefully; his eyes wide as he watched every one of Tony’s movements carefully. When they eventually got the hot dogs on the skewers, Tony was exhausted and lulled into a relaxed state by the sound of Peter’s voice and the open quiet surrounding them.

Sleep came easy, Tony passed out on his back with Peter curled up against his side, and when they woke up the next morning, neither seemed to have moved at all throughout the night. Peter kissed him fully awake and promised a naked dip in the water after getting food in his belly. Tony worked his culinary magic and put together a pretty decent bacon and egg combination.

The rest of the day was spent walking along the water ways that connected to each other throughout the trail. Peter looked insanely adorable splashing through some of the deeper water. A couple of times, the waded into a stream that was not meant for humans to be in and Tony had to drag himself and the koala bear clinging to him out of the faster currents. It was one of the best days Tony could remember having in a while – sunburn and blisters on his feet included.

----

The next two days followed the same pattern – Peter picked out a spot he wanted to go explore and they spent all day doing so. Tony kept them fed and alive when Peter slipped and dislocated a finger – it seemed like a life or death situation in the moment, at least. It was a blast, soaking in the sun and simply enjoying being together. Their nights were spent curled up around the fire, both too exhausted to do much more than talk about the day’s adventure and exchange lazy kisses.

As the end of the trip creeped up on them, Peter finally let them be lazy. They drank beer and floated in the small stream in front of their campsite. Getting drunk before 1 in the afternoon was an absolute treat and led to the most exquisite nap under the tree they tied their hammock to. The past few days of excitement compounded and created a wave of fatigue that brought them under until the edges of the day were creeping in.

“Pete, wake up, baby. Let’s have some dinner and enjoy the stars one more time,” Tony mumbled sleepily, his eyes blinking awake only moments before. The sky was starting to turn that hazy pink and orange color – if they moved quick enough, they could eat their dinner under a crimson sky waiting eagerly to give way to clarity and brightness.

It took a few minutes for Peter to come around, Tony spending all of them peppering Peter’s skin with soft kisses and caressing the parts of him he could reach in their tangled-up position in the hammock. The sleep-lines on Peter’s face pulled a chuckle from Tony’s chest, his fingers tracing over them without hesitation. “Sleepy Pete is one of my favorites.” Giving him a quick kiss on the lips, Tony did his best not to kick Peter in the face as he climbed out of the ENO.

Hamburgers and beans by the fire as the sun set couldn’t be beat – Peter woke up with a ton of energy and obliterated all the food Tony put in front of him, a wide smile on his face while he did it. Completely satisfied, Tony relaxed into the chair that’d been his main source of back support for the past few days. Peter’s wandering hands landed in his lap a few minutes later, a familiar heat in his eyes.

“Want to sleep under the stars tonight?” Peter asked, his voice low, the timber of it an invitation for more than just sleeping under the night sky.

Without hesitation, Tony nodded his head, his fingers running down the length of Peter’s arm. “Sounds romantic,” he mumbled in response, the two of them sharing a soft laugh at the sarcasm that Tony couldn’t always help. Leaning over the arm of his chair, Tony invaded Peter’s space, his lips pressing against his boyfriend’s cheek. “The big sleeping bag right by the fire is probably our best bet.”

There wasn’t any rush in their movements. Peter climbed out of his chair a few minutes later and went about getting their trash into the big bag they’d been putting everything in. He would not so casually meet Tony’s eye overtop the fire, his smile getting sultrier as the seconds passed.

When Peter dragged the sleeping bag out and unzipped it, Tony couldn’t handle the waiting around anymore. He got up from his chair and took the handful of steps that separated him from the gorgeous man he got to call his own. Kicking off the moccasins he wore around their campsite, Tony grabbed Peter’s hand, pulling him down to the ground with him. Peter’s wide eyes had him laughing seconds before he pressed forward and captured slightly chapped lips in a warm kiss.

Despite it being June, the nights were a little chilly – so Tony took great care when stripping Peter down to nothing. Shoes came off first, then the first layer of shirts covering the naked skin of Peter’s chest. Tony took off a piece of his own clothing when something of Peter’s hit the ground. When they were shirtless and busy kissing each other breathless, Tony covered Peter with his upper body, the warmth between them more than enough to keep a chill at bay.

Tony took his time taking off Peter’s pants. His lips lingered on a delectably long neck; the skin still red from their time in the sun. Tracing his name with his tongue, Tony marked a path down, down, down until he was settling between the v of Peter’s legs. His fingers worked the button open, Tony blowing a warm gust of air against the front of bright blue boxer-briefs as the zipper of tight jeans came down. The bulge pressing up against the tight fabric pulsed, Peter obviously very interested in what was about to happen.

Bypassing the area Peter wanted him to touch the most, Tony continued his journey to get Peter completely naked. Slim hips came up off the ground when he started to peel the jeans down Peter’s legs, the boxer briefs coming down with them. Tony ran just the tips of his fingers down the inside of spread thighs, the goosebumps pebbling across Peter’s skin a tangible reaction that never ceased to make Tony harder than a rock.

Too interested in Peter’s skin in the moonlight to worry about his own pants, Tony palmed Peter’s bare erection, the length pulsing into his touch. Groaning, he tightened his grip and started to slowly pump down to the base and back up again, his thumb swiping across the already leaking head. “You’re absolutely stunning like this,” Tony admitted, his eyes moving from the show his hand was making to Peter’s, the normal hazel a little darker, pupils completely overtaking most of the iris.

“You drive me crazy,” Peter moaned out, his bottom lip being pulled between his teeth as he tossed his head back.

Tony let his lips trail over the weepy head, his tongue poking out for a taste.

Fingers fisting into Tony’s hair had him taking more of Peter’s length in his mouth – his boyfriend groaning each time his lips tightened during the upstroke. Tony pressed the back of his head into Peter’s hand, the contact there spurring him on just as much as the cock sliding deeply into his throat. His own erection pressed messily against the seam of his pants, everything about Peter in that moment fanning the fire in his belly. Thrusting a hand down, Tony adjusted himself, a moan being choked out around the cock in his mouth.

Moving quickly, Tony got up onto his knees, his mouth still firmly working Peter’s cock over as he did. Shaky fingers got the button of his pants open, the immediate rush of relief pulling a groan from him again. Tony forced his eyes shut, his fingers pulling the zipper down and shoving his pants down just enough to free up his cock. Only then did he pull up and off Peter’s erection, his eyes finding the other’s while he shimmied the rest of the way out of the intrusive pieces of clothing.

Tony wrapped a hand around himself, a tight fist stroking up and down a few times just to relieve a bit of tension. “Fuck –“ he gasped out, Tony letting his chin drop to his chest. A huge gust of air left his mouth – it felt like physical pain, pulling his hand away from himself. Peter looked at him intensely, the tip of his pink tongue peeking out to wet his bottom lip. Unable to resist, Tony leaned over him, pressing their lips together briefly.

He didn’t allow himself too much time to luxuriate in the feel of Peter’s tongue against his own, though. His boyfriend was thrusting up against him, the sticky wetness of his cock dragging along the skin of Tony’s stomach. Settling into the gap of Peter’s thighs again, Tony used both hands to push his thighs further apart, everything deliciously on display for him.

Fingers of his right hand wrapped around the base of Peter’s cock, while Tony used his left hand to pull Peter’s ass cheeks apart. He let his tongue graze along the already fluttering hole, the move pulling a shout from the man above him. “Fuck – keep doing that,” Peter muttered mindlessly, the words broken apart by gasps and moans. Tony didn’t need to be told twice.

Redoubling his efforts, Tony gripped Peter tightly and let the pace of his hand match the swipes and thrusts of his tongue. Peter’s hands pawed at him uselessly, the hitch of his hips and the frequency of his breathing telling him just how close he actually was. “Cum for me, Pete.” Tony forced his head up, his lips and chin glossy from his own spit and the messy way he went down on Peter with abandon. It took a singular nod from Tony before Peter was coming, thick pearls of cum coating Tony’s fingers and the supple skin of Peter’s abdomen.

Tony didn’t give him any time to recover, he simply ran his fingers through the warm cum and used two of them to press against Peter’s entrance. They slipped in without much resistance – his tongue and the orgasm did a decent job relaxing Peter and his usually wound up body. He set a fast pace, the second Peter let him in, Tony was thrusting and pulling back with efficiency – doing just enough to make sure there wouldn’t be any pain.

Face red and cock pulsing, Tony replaced two fingers with three, his arm tired from the ruthless way he was simply taking. Peter didn’t seem to mind, though – his cock was already starting to harden against his stomach, the pulse of it making him clench around Tony’s fingers.

“I’m ready, I’m ready. Fuck me, Tony,” Peter’s words cut through whatever rational braincells were left. Tony pulled his fingers out and spat in his hand, the leftover cum and spit the perfect lubricant for a coupling like this – wild and carefree. He didn’t let his hand linger as he spread the fluids over his length, the mere touch made him want to explode. Tony had just enough left in the tank to heft Peter’s legs around his hips as he lined the tip of his cock against Peter’s hole and pressed forward, bringing them together as one.

His hands pressed into the sleeping bag up by Peter’s head, his fingers just shy of being able to play with the hair that haloed out. Bringing his bottom lip between his teeth, Tony went through the periodical table in his head to give Peter a second to adjust and to stave off the orgasm that was quickly approaching.

Peter took his own erection in his hand and started to stroke, the darkness in his eye reflecting the moon above perfectly. Pale skin seemed to glow in the depth of the darkness surrounding them, the hand Tony watched becoming iridescent the longer he stared. The movement was a nice distraction, but not enough to stop his hips from swiveling and pulling back, the press inside the only thing he wanted in that moment. Tony let his head hang between his shoulders, the force of his thrusts easier now that he wasn’t trying to hold himself up as much.

The clench around him drove him towards the edge before Tony could stop it from happening. Dropping down to his elbows, Tony trapped Peter’s hand between them to stop the rhythmic jerking over smooth skin. Each tug caused Peter’s hole to clamp down around him and it was pulling Tony to the precipice a lot quicker than he wanted. “You’re going to make me cum. You feel so fucking good,” Tony babbled, his nose moving over Peter’s cheek with every back and forth thrust.

Hands grabbed his face, Peter tugging until Tony shifted his attention to him. He couldn’t stop the roll of his hips, so he didn’t try – staving off obviously wasn’t going to happen. Peter looked at him with his mouth wide open and pupils blown, the sight of it almost enough to pull him over, the tantalizing squeeze and tug of their physicality be damned. Their lips brushed and for a moment, they shared panted breaths.

“Flip me over,” Peter mumbled when Tony tore away from the kiss, his heart pounding from the anaerobic thrusts of his hips and the astounding lack of oxygen. Clenching his eyes shut, Tony nodded. A miracle stopped his hips and allowed him to pull out – the two of them fumbling around for a minute before Tony was on his back and Peter was settling over him, his tight hole already surrounding Tony’s cock.

“Shit – I’m not going to last much longer, baby.” Tony looked up helplessly, his fingers wrapping around Peter’s hips tightly. “I’m so close – “

Peter smirked down at him, his hand wrapping around his cock before he started a ruthless pace with his hips. The strain of his rise and fall could be seen so plainly in the clench of heavily muscled thighs and the ripple of abs that were so warm and tight – it was fucking beautiful.

Throwing his head back, Tony felt the heat in his stomach hit the boiling point, his orgasm sweeping over him like wildfire. He planted his feet and thrust his hips up, the throbbing tip of his cock pressing against Peter’s prostate – the move enough to pull him right over the edge with Tony. A satisfied moan left Tony’s lips at the feeling of Peter’s cum coating his skin.

The brightness of the stars made Peter glow – the post-orgasmic haze swirled around his limbs, making him look like one of the stars in the sky himself. Smiling widely, Tony let his hands trail over the pale skin, the moonlight not conceding under his fingertips, no matter where he touched. In that instant, he knew he’d never be able to look at Peter the same – the ethereal nature surrounding him right now would forever be engrained in the back of his mind; Peter was beautiful all the time, but this took it to a new level.

Not able to stand the distance between them any longer, Tony wrapped his arms around Peter’s middle and pulled him down. Their lips met, the kiss a steady reminder of the never-ending thrum of love and affection that pulsed between them. Three years later and they were still rocking each other’s worlds.

The coolness of the air broke them apart a while later, the cum cooling on Tony’s chest starting to get a little too sticky for his liking. Groping around, Tony found his t-shirt and wiped his and Peter’s chests. When Peter got up, the situation was beyond help. “We’re going to have to get in the water,” Tony said nodding towards the steadily running stream they’d been “bathing” in all week.

Chilly air drove them into the flow – the coolness was inescapable, though; Tony’s skin immediately lit up with goosebumps. He worked quickly to get himself clean, the water icy the longer he stood nude in the elements. Peter didn’t seem to be moving, so Tony splashed some water over at him, a laugh leaving his lips.

A wash of water hitting him wasn’t all that surprising, Peter was never one to back down from any sort of challenge laid down in front of him, especially where Tony was concerned. Shaking his head, Tony retaliated, the wave hitting Peter starting an all-out war. By the time they were panting for breath, neither man could remember what the cold seeping in felt like. Peter wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck, his wet and naked torso pressing in to share body heat

“This was fun,” Peter said, his expression open. “Really fun. I didn’t know being away from everything could be so – nice.”

Filling in the rest of the space, Tony let his arms wrap around Peter’s hips. He tilted his head and stole a quick kiss. “You just have to be open to appreciating it, Petey.” Tony brushed their noses together before pressing in for another kiss.

Later, wrapped up together in the sleeping bag, Tony pressed his face into the back of Peter’s neck. He snuggled into the warmth there and let out a soft sigh. “Where are we headed next, anyway?” Tony asked, his body completely relaxed.

Peter grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it, the spread of a smile evident on his lips still pressed against Tony’s skin. “How do you feel about white-water rafting?”

#starker #ironspider #twokinkybeans #bobbie writes #prompts #fic #and the land is dark #jarofdirtchallenge #jar of dirt challenge

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angryteapot · 5 years

Note

aww tea I love the whole follower appreciation thing you’re too sweet

Chris, my lovely! One flangsty Bucky coming right up, hope I do the prompt some justice!

Okay shit, I just finished writing this, and lemme tell you that I LEGIT choked up with tears as I wrote this. THAT HAS NEVER HAPPENED TO ME BEFORE. I’m now reminded why I don’t typically write angst.*laughs maniacally through tears* I hope you’re proud of yourself and this damned prompt! Haha jk jk, love you babe!

“Alright Barnes, let’s see who ends up with the higher body count.” You smirk at him as you shove the mag into your SIG Sauer P226. The gun was a beauty, and you knew it made Bucky a little hot under the collar when you used it on missions.

“Oh honey, you know it’s gonna be me.” He sounded awfully confident - it would only make your victory that much sweeter. You’ll admit, he was a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield, but you were too.

Steve just rolled his eyes as he descended the jet ramp. “You guys are sickening. Just try to focus on Hydra, and not each other, yeah?”

You threw a lazy two-finger salute in his direction, winking as you drawled, “Yes sir, Captain.” It earned you a satisfying blush from Steve and a warning glare from Bucky.

“Okay people, listen up. Intel estimates 50 Hydra agents in the building, and 7 hostages - our job today is strictly find and rescue. We’re aiming to capture the Hydra agents, not exterminate this time, only go for the kill if it’s absolutely necessary.” Steve looked at each person, waiting for their nod of confirmation before continuing.

“As soon as we have the hostages, we send word to the S.H.I.E.L.D. team that’s waiting nearby. They take the hostages to safety, and we circle back to round up the Hydra agents and hand them over to Coulson’s team for questioning. Stay alert and watch each other’s backs, this is one of the higher-level Hydra factions, they won’t go down easy.”

A little put out at having to capture instead of just kill, you turned to Bucky with a pout. He ran his thumb over your protruding bottom lip, kissing you gently. “Don’t worry darlin’, you’ll still get to beat the shit outta them. Challenge still stands, rules are just a little different, that’s all.”

You smiled at him, leaning into the hand cradling your cheek. “You better be careful, Barnes. I’d tear the world apart with my rage if something happened to you.”

He kissed you again, a little more forceful this time. “I couldn’t live without ya darlin’, so back at’cha.”.

* * *

Chaos was all that you could register. The intel was wrong, so so wrong. There were more enemy agents than you could count, enough that the S.H.I.E.L.D. teams on standby were called in to assist. There were so many bodies, the ‘capture not kill’ plan had gone out the door from the minute you busted into the building.

They had been waiting for you, tipped off somehow of your arrival, and the team was between a rock and a hard place. It seemed an eternity that you were fighting, but the hordes of Hydra lackeys were finally thinning out.

Your two SIGs had been emptied and reloaded at least three times each, and were soon abandoned after you ran out of mags. You had an array of knives strapped to you, just as Bucky did, and you used those once the bullets had run out.

You sustained a few injuries, shallow cuts and bruises, but you were spattered in enemy blood. It was truly mesmerizing to watch you fight with your knives, the sheer grace and lethality you possessed were breathtaking. You fought alongside Bucky and his own knives, taking out countless agents as you kept a protective eye on your teammates.

Steve and Natasha had managed to knock out and restrain a few of the commanders, while Hulk, Thor and Tony took out a good majority of the other agents. Clint and Sam had found the hostages and were escorting them from the premises.

Thor sent a blast of lighting straight to the few remaining agents, shaking the building’s foundation with the force of it, as they disintegrated before your very eyes.

While the rest of the team was sussing out the damage, you were walking towards Bucky when a sudden movement caught your eye. A Hydra operative - half mangled on the ground, he was unmoving and so bloody you had thought him dead, raised his weapon and aimed.

Eyes following to where he was aiming, you saw it was at your Bucky, who had his back turned and didn’t see the threat. The gun went off. Your mind blanked and your body just reacted.

You blinked at the deafening bang of the gun, and all you knew in that instant was pain. You looked down to the burning sensation in your abdomen, seeing a vivid crimson rapidly stain your tac suit.

You heard the whizzing of a knife being thrown, the Hydra agent now with one of Bucky’s knives lodged between unseeing eyes, and then - “NO! No please, oh god, no no no no no!”

Your knees buckled, Bucky’s arms encircling you gently and breaking your fall. Steve and Thor were beside you in an instant, and you could distantly hear Tony shouting at someone through the comms.

You were warm, nearly on fire, and your head was pounding an awful cadence. Bucky’s face appeared in front of your eyes, but he was fuzzy, your vision wavering from the blood loss.

“No, darlin’ stay with me, stay awake, can you do that for me? Y/N, oh god, Y/N keep you eyes on me dammit! Why? Why would you do something so stupid?”

You could see tears filling his panicked eyes, and you sluggishly reached a hand up to cup his cheek. You were so tired, in so much pain, you barely managed to get the words out - “My love. Couldn’t let him… Didn’t react fast enou-”

You gasped in pain, your eyes rolling back into your head. You could hear voices, but it sounded as though you were hearing them far away under water. Your hand fell from Bucky’s face, and you could no longer feel his arms around you. You couldn’t feel much of anything anymore, not even the burning pain.

One panicked voice came through clearer than the rest, “No, please don’t leave me, I can’t live without you, doll. Please open your eyes and come back to me.”

You tried so hard to comply, you hated hearing Bucky’s voice sound so anguished. You felt a brush of lips to your forehead, and then… nothing.

* * *

Bucky could practically see the moment life left your body. You were still warm, but you felt empty in his arms. He couldn’t even scream, he just stared blankly at the floor, your blood soaking his suit.

Natasha was silently sobbing, hand over her mouth as she turned into Steve’s chest to hide herself from the heartbreaking scene. Thor was stoic before he shouted in anger and propelled himself through the wall and halfway across the world. Steve’s very soul was tearing in two at the sight of his two best friends - one dead and the other silently mourning the loss of his love.

Tony stood silently a ways away, feeling empty. Even though he wasn’t fond of Barnes, he cared a great deal for you, and he couldn’t imagine the grief Bucky was feeling as he clutched your lifeless body.

Sam and Clint rushed in through the busted wall, skidding to a halt as they saw what had transpired. Every one was silent, still as statues and unable to look away from the tragedy in front of them.

* * *

There was a sudden flurry of movement and noise as Coulson and his team came charging into the room. Everyone shot forward in disbelief and rage as Coulson himself pulled your body from Bucky’s arms as another agent stabbed Bucky in the next with a monstrous dose of tranquilizer.

As Steve shot forward to snatch your body back from Coulson, Tony was suddenly blocking his way - “No! Stand down, Rogers, he says he can save her.”

Steve heard the urgency in Tony’s voice and begrudgingly backed down, fuming with rage as he turned to help restrain Bucky, despite wanting to punch Tony in the face.

Bucky, meanwhile, was trying to break free from the iron grip of a giant of a man - Agent Mackenzie. Bucky’s eyes were wild as he yelled out in frustration, seconds away from breaking free from the agent’s grip.

“NO! Give her BACK to me! You can’t take her!” Despite the massive tranq dose he was shot up with, Bucky’s anger and despair fueled his strength, burning off the tranquilizer faster than it could take effect.

Steve jumped in to help restrain his best friend, wincing in sympathy as they tranq’ed Bucky again, this time with an even larger dosage that did the job. Steve was sorrowful as he caught Bucky’s limp body, face now a permanent mask of pain at your death.

Everyone was silent and tense as they followed Coulson’s team in the jet to the facility you had been taken to. Nobody would say a word to them, despite the amount of questions and threats hurled out of anger.

The team was finally admitted into the secret facility, and lead to a room where your body was laid out on a hospital bed, numerous IVs piercing your skin with a blue liquid.

The biggest surprise was Nick Fury sitting in the chair next to your body.

He held up a hand to silence the immediate demand for answers, “Questions can wait for later. She’ll be fine, I give you my word. The serum is already beginning to take effect - look.”

The team gave way to let Steve through, him half-carrying Bucky, who was just coming to from the tranquilizer. Bucky didn’t understand what was happening, but he let out an audible cry of relief as your chest began to move with breath and color returned to your ashen skin.

* * *

You slowly returned to consciousness, your mind hazy, body feeling… strange, not your own. You looked at your surroundings, panic dissipating as you saw Bucky asleep at your bedside, his hands lightly clutching your own IV-adorned arm.

You wiggled your fingers and he immediately snapped to attention, eyes quickly brimming with tears as he whispered your name.

After a tearful exchange and a heated but gentle kiss, Bucky filled you in on what had happened to you.

“So… I died?” Disbelief colored your voice.

A pained nod from Bucky.

“And… Coulson’s team brought me back. With a… serum? Called GH-325?”

Another nod, paired with a brief explanation of what the serum was.

“Wow. So I’m part alien now, huh?” You tried to lighten the tense atmosphere.

You sobered up at Bucky’s serious expression.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again. I wouldn’t be able to live without you, Y/N.”

You sigh, “I know, but I’m not sorry. It could have been you that died. I couldn’t let that happen. I know I should have just taken the Hydra agent out, but I didn’t think, I just reacted. I don’t regret it, I’d do it again if it meant you’d live.”

“I might’ve been breathing, but without you I’m just a shell of a man, darlin’.” You cupped his face, beckoning him closer.

You rested your forehead against his, both of you sighing at the reassuring contact. “Even in death I wouldn’t leave you.”

“Good, because I’d burn the world down just to feel your warmth again.”

You laugh, the sound bring joy to his heart, thinking he’d have never heard your laugh again if it wasn’t for Coulson.

“My sweet homicidal maniac, I will never leave you again if I can help it.”

“I love you to the ends of the universe, Y/N.”

“And I, you, my love.”

Bucky sighed contently as you pressed your lips to his. He’d let the team know you were awake in a little bit - for now, he needed the quiet time alone to just be with you.

#tea answers #tea loves her followers #sunflowers-and-bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #angst #flangst

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triforceangel13 · 5 years

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Blood and Tears Ch. 2 (An AkuRoku Vampire Au)

Chapter 2: Awakened

The heartbeat slowed to a complete stop, the sound of the machine monitoring the beats, flat lining with the most sickening noise.

Riku flicked it off with a sigh, watching Sora with a small shake of his head as the brunette watched the blonde in the bed closely.

Paled lips plumped with color, the dark circles surrounding the eyes giving way to a full rested face. The smell of fresh blood leaking from wounds ceased.

Luster filled the golden locks atop his head, giving the blonde on the bed a look as if he was the perfect being just resting.

“Is he going to wake up?” Sora asked, looking to Riku with worry. They had gotten this far before the last time they had tried this, but to due to unforeseen circumstances that last try, the person he had tried to save had passed on.

“Relax Sora. Things are already looking better right now for him,” Riku said. Should the change be complete Roxas would be waking any minute now. Riku didn't want to think of another failure. The man who had created him would mock him for not being able to successfully extend their kind. He didn't need that again.

Sure Sora had been a success but that was a long time ago. He couldn't remember quite how he had been able to do it.

Sora pouted a huff, turning back to Roxas and watching his face. Signs of a human life were gone, a sad fact in its own.

He leaned in closer, trying to see if he would wake when suddenly beautiful blue eyes opened up to look directly at him.

“Whoa!” Sora shouted, launching himself back and behind Riku. Riku held in a laugh, resting an arm around Sora and relaxing his shoulders.

It had worked. He had saved Roxas.

The blonde sat up suddenly in a panic, his shoulders heaving as he took several deep panicked breaths. “Axel? Axel where are you?”

A saddened look crossed Riku's face, stepping closer to the blonde but keeping a distance between them. He was scared.

“Easy there Roxas,” Riku tried to relax him. “No need to panic. We're friends here.”

“Where's Axel?” Roxas demanded, ignoring his words, and throwing off the blanket. “I have to find him, someone is trying to...”

But his words faded as he looked down at himself, his fingers touching his chest where he had been shot.

“I was...”

“Yes, you had been shot by those that had tried to go after Axel,” Riku explained, motioning with his head for Sora to get him his blanket back on. He carefully rest a hand on his shoulder. “There is much that I need to explain to you if you will listen.”

Roxas lifted his eyes up, scared and confused. He flinched a bit as Sora rest the blanket back around his shoulders. He hadn't even seen him move from his spot.

But there was something about these two that he couldn't put his finger on. He felt like he could trust them with his life.

With a swallow around the lump forming in his throat he nodded his head.

Vampire.

A word used in fantasy for a creature of the undead that preys on the blood of the living to sustain themselves.

Monsters.

Yet here Roxas was, exactly the thing he thought fantasy. Were all those stories told to him as a kid just nothing but lies?

What else could possibly be real?

At first he couldn't believe it, thinking some cruel joke was being played on him. But the fangs that he had been taught to extend had been more than enough proof as well as the fact that he had survived a deadly wound with no traces left of the attack.

Also a note of the intense thirst that raked over him that was not sated no matter how many cups of water he sucked down before they had left.

Riku had said he was hungry, that his first feeding was the most important in his life. It would sustain him as well as complete the transition of his change.

If he didn't he would not survive the night.

As much as he was still new to this whole thing he had to thank Riku again for saving his life by making him a vampire. His time hadn't been up, he had a life still to live and someone who desperately needed him.

Axel.

Oh how much he missed him. How he missed the taller male's arms wrapped around his body, holding him to his chest.

The faint smell of just Axel when it wasn't covered with cigarette smoke. What he wouldn't give to just be with him again...

From the sound of it he had made it out alive of that whole ordeal but where was he now? What was he doing? Was he alright?

Riku had said his change had taken a few days due to how severe the wounds had been and how much blood he had lost. The blood given to him had to replace everything that he had lost which had taken some time to do.

He wanted to tell him everything was fine, that he was alive. They could pick up where they had left off with their lives and he could get answers as to what had happened in the first place and what had started this whole mess.

Who were those guys? Why were they going after the redhead in the first place? What had he done to cause them to just want to kill him?

All in due time he supposed that he would get his answers. He just had to be patient and from what he had become he had all the time in the world.

Though he was angry that Riku had told Axel he was not going to make it. He wasn't sure how Axel would take the news and he needed to see him before the redhead did something drastic. He did not want to live in this world without Axel by his side.

He was not about to lose him and he doubted that he could figure out how to get Axel to change into what he was either.

He didn't even know how to feed himself.

But Riku and Sora both had told him it was unsafe to see the redhead so soon after waking. Roxas hadn't had his first feeding still. Anywhere unsupervised was just a disaster waiting to happen and people would get hurt.

“I'll catch you someone to show you how to do it today. It takes a lot of practice to get it just right,” Sora said nonchalantly, his hands behind his head as they stepped into the park. It was late but even so they were bound to come across someone. It was just how the town was in their area.

“What my mate is neglecting to state,” Riku said with a sigh. “Is that the point of feeding is to never drain them dry. It'll be tempting, believe me, but we cannot have any deaths on our hands. It just gets too messy having to clean up the bodies...”

Roxas gave a small nod, his new sight scanning over every single thing he could and barely comprehending what was coming out of Riku's mouth. So many things he recognized but the sheer amount of detail he could see now was so fascinating. How did any vampire get anything done when things looked this gorgeous?

“Roxas, pay attention,” Riku sighed heavily, holding his arm out as they both watched Sora put on an act for a young man that was stumbling home drunk.

That tactic was something he could see being used easily, Sora acting as if he was lost and scared and just looking for a place to rest his head..

Come in a drunk man who is probably looking to get somewhere with him and then he is nothing but easy prey.

The man leaned in a little too closely and that was when Sora struck. His arms were around him in a vice grip, his fangs in his neck in a matter of seconds.

The man didn't struggle, his drunken haze clouding his thoughts as he fed.

Roxas tensed at the smell. Sweet smelling and delicious. His pupils dilated to large black circles, his fangs slipping from their sheaths. He took a step forward but Riku's arm quickly caught him to stop him in his tracks.

“It's best to go to those that are a little incapacitated, but there is the risk of having those affects on you. For example if Sora drinks any more than he should he will end up getting drunk himself,” Riku explained, guiding Roxas towards the man carefully so he wouldn't get away, taking the man's wrist. “It is not normal that we go out and hunt, Sora and I have a well stocked storage to sustain an entire coven of vampires. But seeing as this is your first, you do need fresh blood.”

Roxas took the wrist that was offered to him, unsure of what was to come next. Sora had made it look so easy and he was just so hungry...

“That's enough,” Riku scolded Sora, pulling the brunette off of the man. Sora pouted but staggered back a bit, watching Roxas.

“Tasty,” Sora said with his tongue sticking out. “Give it a try Roxas. If you don't want to go for the neck you can always try anywhere else on the body.”

Roxas hesitated at first but raised the stranger's wrist to his lips, biting down with the fangs he had extended.

The blood that met his mouth was not what he expected. His body reacted in favor, sucking to get what he needed and even clutching the poor guy's wrist with such strength that he was sure he had possibly broken a bone or two.

But it felt wrong to do it this way. It felt wrong to feed from someone like him. It felt too intimate, too personal.

Blocking out his thoughts he continued to feed, clenching his eyes shut tight. It was only this time. Then he could use the stores Riku and Sora had he was sure.

After what seemed like a century Riku helped guide him off of the wrist. If he hadn't Roxas was sure that he would have drank every drop this guy had to offer.

“That's enough Roxas. Remember, we don't want to kill him,” Riku said, setting the now unconscious man to sit against a tree.

The thirst had subsided in Roxas' throat, his mind clearing. Eating wasn't on his mind any longer. There was only one person I needed to see.

“Can I go see him now,” Roxas asked with a heavy frown.

The other two shared a look. It hadn't been only but a few days and Roxas was desperate for the man he loved.

The sun would be rising soon enough and it was not safe for Roxas to be wandering on his own. They had yet to get him sunlight protection as well.

For now he would remain a night walker.

“We can bring you to see him but...only to see,” Sora said. “We can't let you go to him yet. He cannot know about you so soon.”

“But why? Why can't I be with him?” Roxas asked angrily, but followed in step behind them. He wasn't sure if he had a home any longer after what happened earlier and he had nowhere else to go. He had no choice but to stay with Riku and Sora.

“He is grieving. Not to mention the sun will be rising soon,” Riku sighed heavily. “It is not the right time right now. You need to wait.”

Roxas seemed to wilt at that. He wanted so badly to be back with the redhead but there was a part of him that knew he was right.

Seeing how wilted Roxas became Sora cast a smile his way. “Don't worry. We will make sure you two reunite.”

Roxas gazed up at the apartment building where Demyx lived. This was the only other place he could think of where Axel would be. Axel never went anywhere else aside from their own apartment as well as his job.

A job which he wasn't even sure what it was.

Demyx lived on the top floor of the five floor building, living in a apartment smaller than the one Axel and he owned.

“I just....jump?” Roxas asked. Sora nodded his head.

“Just jump up there. Just try to be silent as you land. We don't want to bring any attention to yourself right now.”

Roxas nodded and looked up at the fire escape by the window. With a small grunt he launched up from the ground, landing quietly on the side of window.

It was an amazing movement but he had no time to sit and admire his new skills.

He carefully took a peek inside, his eyes quickly finding the redhead that he sought after.

His breath hitched at the sight. Axel sat on a bed, a beer bottle dangling in one hand as the other rest against his face.

His eyes looked lost, tear streaks resting on his face.

The blonde rest a hand on the glass, his heart clenching at the sight. What he wouldn't give to just be in his arms once again.

Soon. He would make sure he would come back soon.

I’m open for written commissions

want to support? my patreon and kofi (just ask me for the link)

my a03 (triforceangel) as another place to read my fics

#kingdom hearts #akuroku #blood and tears

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comeloro · 5 years

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Lips

We are well into the heat of the summer, which seems like an appropriate time to address an area you have probably always been told to pay attention to but weren’t sure why beyond obvious cosmetic reasons: your lips. Our lips have the most delicate skin on our bodies, and it’s important to keep them hydrated all the time and not just in particularly trying, drying times like summer and winter. The skin on our lips is incredibly sensitive and thin, and additionally, it does not produce its own natural oils. This means that it’s essential to be on top of hydrating this area to avoid irritation and dryness year-round, not just in two of the most taxing times of the year.

The first thing I look at when deciding on a lip balm is the ingredients— the more naturally-derived the better. I know that this a sudden trend in the beauty world, and everywhere you turn there’s no-paraben, “all-natural” claims. Keep in mind when you’re browsing that “all-natural” is a highly misleading term, and it’s safe to assume that no product on shelves is completely composed of natural ingredients. Everything would go bad almost immediately if that were the case!

And I’ve digressed… so how do you ensure that you are choosing a healthy, safe lip product? First things first, check out the main ingredients. Think about how when you apply a product topically to your lips you are essentially ingesting it, so it’s important to know what’s going into your body. I generally look for something rich in plant-based oils, shea butter, lanolin, and honey. All of these are ultra-hydrating, naturally-occurring ingredients that I’ve found work effectively for me.

Take a look below at a breakdown of five of my favorite lip products for use in every season and let me know what you’re using or intrigued to try:

Nuxe Rêve de Miel Ultra-Nourishing Lip Balm

My holy grail, cannot-live-without lip product. I absolutely love this balm, so much so that there’s about five to my name at all times, which includes three stashed in my bathroom, one in my bag, and one by my bed.

I first came across this product while watching Jeanne Damas’s British Vogue interview where she reviewed her favorite pharmacy products. Intrigued, I then proceeded to research Nuxe as a brand. I was immediately attracted to their values and commitment to sustainable, plant-based beauty and decided to pick up a few balms on my trip to Canada that summer. I haven’t been disappointed since.

The consistency of this product is similar to honey as the name suggests. It feels thick and creamy but somehow applies matte. It’s the only lip balm that is so fixed upon application that I can even add lipstick over it like normal. I don’t experience any sliding or running when I put color over the balm, and when I wear a matte lip, I don’t get those annoying flakes of dry skin.

The thick nature and nourishing properties of Rêve de Miel primarily come from beeswax, shea butter, and sweet almond oil, which also makes it handy as a lip mask for nighttime. I like to pile it on while I sleep to hydrate my lips overnight.

10/10 for form and function.

Burt’s Bees Tinted Lip Balm in the shade “Hibiscus”

There’s no history with this one. It was your classic “let me pop-in to Target real quick” story, which never actually happens, at least in my reality. Probably not needing anything remotely related to beauty or skincare, I went to the beauty and skincare section anyway. I found this tinted balm and decided to give it a go.

It’s great for those “I’m not gonna even bother with lipstick today” moods. I apply this almost once a day if I want a quick, effective hydration boost and a little natural-looking pop of color. The top three ingredients in this one are coconut oil, vegetable oil, and beeswax. While I’m not keen on the vegetable oil, I justified it because I appreciate their use of shea butter and lanolin as supporting sources of hydration. You have to pick and choose your battles.

Weleda Skin Food Lip Butter

The texture of this one is not quite a butter but more like an aqueous gel. I’ve used other Weleda products, and I’m a big fan of the entire Skin Food line. I also admire Weleda’s commitment to using plant-based ingredients and taking care of the environment, so I thought I’d give their newest product a try.

While it is hydrating, it doesn’t stay on your lips for very long. I use it as a quick burst of moisture, but not when I plan on going awhile without reapplying or before I put on lipstick. I’d say it’s helpful to keep in your bag when you’re in a pinch, but not something I’d re-buy.

Key ingredients: sunflower seed oil, lanolin, beeswax.

Bite Beauty Agave Lip Mask in shade “Smashed”

This is my newest addition to the collection, and I’m obsessed with the sweetness of agave, the thick texture, and the subtle but flattering color. I use this more like a lip gloss rather than a lip mask and can attest that it also looks great over lipstick for extra shine.

My first impression when I tried this out was “how does it taste so good?” The agave’s sweetness is incredibly palpable but not overpowering, and the olive and castor seed oils give the lips noticeable plumpness. I primarily use this one in situations where I want that noticeable flush of color without sacrificing long-lasting hydration.

The shade “Smashed” is described as a “sheer candy apple red,” but I find it to be more of a purple-red, berry-like color. It’s a flattering shade regardless, and it noticeably enhances my natural lip color when I wear it alone. I like to layer the lip mask over red and pink-toned lipstick shades and find that it complements them well.

Flower Beauty Lip Mask in shade "Sangria"

I love Drew Barrymore. That’s really it, so thanks for reading!

…

I’m joking, of course. While I do really love Drew, I genuinely wanted to support her beauty line and try something functional. I’m not a huge makeup collector, though the rest of her line is beautiful, and knew that realistically I’d probably only get good use out of something like a lip balm.

I love the tint of the shade “Sangria,” a sheer, glossy violet. It’s not particularly pigmented, but it definitely gives a flattering hint of color and lasts for a decent amount of time. It’s not an absolute must-have, but it works and I do find that my lips stay hydrated for a couple of hours after application.

Out of all the lip balms I’ve reviewed, this is the only one without predominantly plant-based ingredients, despite Flower Beauty’s claim that this is a coconut and mango butter- derived product. The top three ingredients include polybutene (a thickening agent), petrolatum (like Vaseline), and mineral oil.

What do you think makes a good lip product and what products am I missing? Send me a note and we can keep the conversation going about all things lip care.

#lip balm #lips #lip care #lip hydration #lip mask #bite beauty #flower beauty #burt's bees #weleda #nuxe #beauty #skincare #plant based #natural #agave lip mask #drew barrymore

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idolizerp · 5 years

Photo

LOADING INFORMATION ON AURORA’S MAIN RAP, VOCAL BAE MINHEE…

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 23 DEBUT AGE: 18 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 13 COMPANY: Midas ETC: this member rocketed to popularity on a recent season of we got married

IDOL IMAGE

upon first meeting, it’s easy for people to come to the conclusion that minhee is a firecracker. she speaks often, fast enough to be asked to repeat some of the things she says, since people struggle to keep up with her pace. minhee doesn’t care — she is very unwilling to adjust to others’ expectations of her solely because she sees herself as the standard others should be working hard to match up to. her favorite subject to talk about is herself, though with the years the woman’s learned how to control that impulse, the small amount of self-consciousness she has reminding her that other people need to minimally like her to be around her and that means she’s supposed to give them their own focus as well. minhee is also not afraid to let others know her opinions, whether those are good or bad, relevant or not. she, as a person, doesn’t tend to shy away from conflict, instead often leaning on it to get the best in a discussion.

aurora, however, has a very meticulous image crafted, and so does midas as a company. they weren’t about to allow minhee to be herself and if this self was as sweet and whimsical as aurora’s concept pretends to be. there are parts of her that midas work to highlight, such as the honest charisma, the easy laughter, the capacity to turn any situation lighter by cracking up a joke. but the parts they need to hide — her easy aggression, the brashness when cornered, the selfishness that sometimes slips into her words without her noticing — take a lot of work from the part of the company.

ultimately she’s given an image that is not only convenient for the group but that she works convincingly. the little sunshine, the soul and personality of aurora. it’s a minor way to compensate for her shortcomings when it comes to the skills that all of her members have, and better than her, and also so that there’s less of a risk for her to screw it up. minhee is allowed to talk a lot, so long as the words that come out of her mouth are laced with positivity. as one of the youngest, midas expect her to bring the actual youthfulness to the group, to sustain their sweet image and to act the part of the members the older ones are expected to look after.

IDOL HISTORY

1996

bae minhee is born august 7 1996, in seoul, south Korea.

her mother, jiwon, rejoices at the fact that finally, after three kids and eight years since the last, God finally grants her a daughter. her father, wonseok, is no less thrilled. had she been the first, the man might’ve been bothered by a female but fourth seems to him enough for a daughter to be seen as great news.

the trip home from the hospital is loud with her brothers in the car, excitedly leaning over the front seat to get a glimpse at the bundle of blankets in the middle of which sleeps a small chubby-cheeked baby. a hand reaches out to press a small finger against said cheek but it’s slapped away by their mother, who chastises the boys not to bother the little girl while she sleeps.

1999.

when minhee is four, father gets a promotion.

she has no recollection of those years but the girl knows it’s when the man goes from a decent paying job to one that allows for them to move to a much bigger house in a nicer neighborhood. minhee’s always had a room for herself, being the only girl, but the brothers no longer have to complain about sharing when each of them gets their own bedroom.

it’s when the gifts start. each weekend, wonseok brings home a gift for the girl. sometimes the boys are awarded the same level of thoughtfulness though his princess never goes more than a week without something new to call her own.

2004.

when minhee is nine, the girl already knows whenever she cries she’ll get what she wants.

it’s something she uses against her brother minseok, the closest to her in age at seventeen, the only one still living at home. whenever he’s mean to her, minhee cries without fail. she masters this skill, taking a few years to be able to, though it’s the best thing when she knows her mother will call her brother out if minhee so much as pouts.

her parents don’t know how to say no to her.

or rather, they don’t want to.

having reached the fourth kid, they already know how to say no, don’t they?

but it somehow doesn’t come out with minhee. her every desire is done, even if reluctantly. whatever classes she wants to attend — piano, ballet, even football — she’s given permission to sign up for, even if the girl inevitably gets bored of all of them in no time.

2007.

kids in school are torn between hating her and loving her.

minhee gets away with everything with a smile and i’m sorry. it’s hard for a teacher to catch her in the first place when she’s already so used to knowing how to get away.

she’s not mean per se, not in the way she could be. but even as young as twelve, minhee makes it obvious for all to know she believes she’s the center of the universe. the girl sure has the personality to match, spitfire comebacks with soft laughter to soothe.

you never know whether she’s a friend or an enemy.

2009.1

at one point, being known around the school no longer feels like it’s enough

minhee is no stranger to idol groups — she’d have to be an alien to be —, her own bedroom wall covered with posters of the women she admires and wishes to be like one day, including posters of groups like diamant and jubilee. powerful, successful women. beautiful, loved by many women.

she keeps craving that — the fame, the love, the countless gifts — for so long that there’s no hesitation when she walks into breakfast one day and slams the flier for the audition to midas down on the table.

“i want to go.”

“are you sure?” her mother doesn’t even question her daughter’s whims but even jiwon knows a huge commitment when she looks at one.

minhee leaves no room for discussion.

2009.2

the number of classes she’s taken through the years come in handy when she’s faced with the process of auditioning.

minhee can’t sing. or rather she can, it’s just better for everybody if she refrains from doing so. she can dance, well enough that it’s not difficult for her to showcase some potential, though ultimately it’s her young age and pretty face that get her in.

she’s a rough stone but with enough of a shine to her that the company believes that, with time, they can polish her to their standards.

2009-2013

it takes minhee longer than it should for her to learn to behave the way she’s supposed to.

training is the worst. she’s expected to practice her dancing, her singing, her manners from the moment she joins the company. it’s also the worst because minhee starts to understand others don’t see her as the star she knows she is supposed to be. suddenly it’s not about her anymore, suddenly she’s not the best, the prettiest, the smartest, or even the snarkiest.

suddenly she’s nothing.

minhee gets written off as tone-deaf six months into her training. it’s when they realise she might need more work with that than others and brush her aside to practice rapping instead. every day she’s reminded of their opinion that she’s not good at anything.

( which — is true. mediocre at best is well fit for her vocals, and even other things there are at least a handful of people who do better than she ever could. minhee just refuses to see things this way, too caught up in her own head, too certain of her superiority and clinging onto her ego. )

it’s sheer spite that keeps her around. the positive side of her self-centered mind that gives minhee the extra boost of confidence to keep going. it’s also the greediness, the desire for the fame she strives for.

2003-2014

when it comes to the announcement of the lineup for the upcoming girl group, minhee only doesn’t expect to be picked because of her age.

“it’s a youthful concept.” they say “we need someone who can fit the image.”

( it’s code for we need you more for your looks than for any of your skills ).

minhee is thrilled. she calls her parents first, each of her brothers second, to lay down the news and all of them are either genuinely pleased or pretend well enough to fool the girl into believing they are happy for her.

in the years of the training, minhee hasn’t changed much. she’s way more polished in several aspects, her dancing at least up to midas’ standards and her rapping good enough to fit with what’s expected from her in the music the group’s going to put out but her personality is essentially the same. still too caught up in her own head, too focused on herself to the point where the girl doesn’t notice she’s not friends or even friendly with any of her members.

doesn’t matter, in her head. all of them are supposed to have one goal – to debut and be famous. as long as they can meet in the middle, that’s the only thing that matters to her.

2014-2016

their presence in the industry is lukewarm from day one.

the music they are putting out is not completely to her tastes, though minhee can appreciate the quality of the production and the marketability of it. they are supposed to be approachable, sweet, lovely, with the school uniforms that strongly resemble the ones minhee still has to wear for a few months after their debut before she graduates school.

public response is not good enough for her. doesn’t begin covering her strong need for attention and fame. it doesn’t seem enough for them that they can dance and that, minhee will reluctantly admit, her members are greater vocalists that she can hope to be.

it’s another blow to her ego that, at first, she’s not given much to do in their songs since her main rapper position is not that required in the type of music they are putting out. her members, better dancers or singers, are given more of the spotlight than minhee thinks she’ll ever be granted.

acting up is a rational reaction for her. not in front of the cameras — whatever she might be, minhee is image conscious enough to not want to blow her chances but she’s far from pleasant behind them. the girl knows she’s making things more difficult for her members by being too snappy, too demanding, but in her still teenage mind it makes sense for her to react this way to not being given the focus she’s always wanted. minhee is hurt, though the girl refuses to make her sadness known for what it is.

anger is a much more acceptable emotion.

2016-2018

in midst of her temper tantrum, minhee looks into what the public believes the girls are lacking. the variety aspect, she knows is not that strong, and if she has to sacrifice her desire to be known as the best idol in all aspects, at least the girl believes she can, for now, take the consolation prize of carrying the personality of the group.

it fits with her image for her to be the enthusiastic host of a music show, and it gives her a slightly better-known name, at least amongst kpop fans that follow the show religiously.

the offer to do we got married comes both from the way she starts projecting herself as a variety reference and the production desire to have someone slightly younger, from a sweet looking group, participating in the show.

minhee thinks it’s a dumb concept, always has, though it’s easy for her to pretend otherwise when she knows it’s a possibility for her to properly get her name out there. and just like she hopes for and expects, that’s exactly what happens. we got married is what she didn’t know she needed — the popularity she gets out of the show is more than enough to compensate for the times she had to pretend to enjoy being on a date with a man.

2018 sees minhee walking around with a higher head, a certainty that she actually has a place in the industry, unlike what others tried to make her believe. more than ever she boasts to whoever is willing to listen about her success, the famous people who name drop her, the times she’s recognized by an older public that she expected to appeal to.

2019.

she’s happy, even if her brothers — with the exception of minseok — pick up her calls less and less, not interested in hearing her go on and on about herself and her accomplishments. in the path to make herself more famous, minhee fails to acknowledge she’s almost isolated herself from the people who matter in her life, and the woman is yet to realize that.

for now, she’s happy to ride on the wave of interest people show her. she cares less and less about being in a group. not tired of it, though — minhee knows if she absolutely must, as she does because of her contract, she can keep going, though her heart obviously lies elsewhere.

if she must sacrifice part of what she’s accomplished in order to get what she’s always wanted, minhee has no qualms about doing just so.

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