#maclie

[saintsurvivors]

maclie + "poem" by langston hughes | insp

[saintsurvivors]

Could I get 3 with MacDalton + a person of your choice??? 🤡🤡🤡

No. 3 “How do you feel about adding another person to the mix?” 

@thesammykinz thank you so much !!!!! and for your patience as wlell omg

okay okay!!!! so first off i would like to apologize for the wait!!!! surprise!!! fractures suck but thankfully it’s healing and my brain took a pause from writing for a moment!!! but im back on my bullshit with  two out of three of my favourite pairings, like i was gonna make this macdalton + macdoc but i just..... sddjfksdjfs im soft on mac/charlie (maclie) so sdjkfjsdfkds

When the adrenaline fades and terror has made it’s way out  to make way for relief, Mac finds himself clutched in Jack’s arms, faces buried in each others shoulders, wrapped so tightly around one another that it’s hard to distinguish where one ends and the other begins. He doesn’t know who’s actually trembling, can only feel the little tremors that wrack their frames, has him clenching his hands against Jack’s back that little bit more, can hear the harsh breathes they’re both giving, muffled and damp with wetness.

This isn’t the first time that he’s been in the middle of a bomb, not even the first time he’s had one strapped to his body even, but the thought of The Ghost having been in his house, having violated his home, his sanctuary, especially not even a day after poor Sam had been shot and, though thankfully out of the woods, but hurting and in dire need of a vacation, has Mac feeling more than a little fragile in ways he can’t quite comprehend or think of. Instead, he just buries himself further into the heat that Jack exudes, smells the familiar scent of gunpowder, peppermint, and cloves.

A noise sounds just to the right of them, and Mac pulls back just as Jack does, wipes his reddened eyes with shoulder, and gives a tremulous grin to Charlie, whose face looks as if it’s being held together with nothing but sheer force of will, something wild and lost in his eyes that Mac can sympathize with.

“I don’t mean to intrude,” Charlie says, and though his voice is the same deep rumble it always has been, something that comforts Mac just as much as hearing Jack’s voice does, makes him think of the times he and Charlie used to laugh and hang out all those years back, there’s an edge to his tone that has Mac thinking of The Day of A Thousand IED’s, when Charlie had found out he’d hidden exactly how stressed and stretched thin he was and how he’d fussed, almost imploding, just as stressed, just as stretched thin. “But-

He and Jack look at one another, and Mac can see something passing through their gaze. He smiles, nothing more than a curl of his mouth, but then he’s between them, wrapped up in two warm bodies. Charlie’s broad chest pressed against his, Jack’s chest pressed to his back, both of them warm and muscular, arms around his waist, his shoulders, pressing against the gentle rise of his ribs. One of Charlie’s hands sprawl against the flat of his back, clutches a little at the front of Jack’s band shirt, pulls Mac closer, and Mac goes easilt, buries into the older man’s embrace, tucks his nose into Charlie’s collarbone, feels how Jack presses close too.

Jack props his temple against Mac’s head, closes his eyes, lets out a long low breath, opens his eyes to watch how Charlie is burying his face into the ruffle of Mac’s hair.

“Thought I was gonna lose you man, what would I do without my little bomb nerd?” Jack murmurs, and he wraps an arm around Charlie’s, squeezes his bicep. Watches one of Charlie’s dark eyes peer through the blonde hair, something like terror lurking in them.

“Thought you were a goner too, Mac,” Charlie says, just as quiet, and he’s got his eyes fully open now, staring down at where Mac has buried himself into their embrace, like he can’t bare to look away from him. “Dunno what I’d do without you, either.”

Mac gives a shudder breath, twists an arm back so he can clutch at Jack’s hips, needs to feel anchored, thinks he’s never felt as safe as he does right now.

One of Charlie's hands comes up to stroke the back of his hair. Mac sighs, leans into it, presses his face further into Charlie’s chest, grips them both tighter, never wants to let go, not if he can help it. Wonders vaguely in the back of his mind what Charlie would say if he asked him to come work for the Phoenix with them.

Mac clears his throat, feels the burn of secondary tears in the back of his eyes, the way his throat scratches, doesn’t know what he’d do if any of these two men had been hurt.

“Sorry big guys,” Mac says, muffled as it is by Charlie’s massive chest. “I’m still here though, I’m all okay. Closer call than I ever wanted, though.”

Charlie ducks his head again, presses his mouth to the crown of Mac’s head, shudders, swallowing down his own tears. Jack makes a crooning noise in the back of his throat, soft and worried. Mac just kind of wants to crawl into bed, kept between Charlie and Jack and fall asleep for a week.

“Can’t lose you man, thought you knew that,” Charlie tells hims, looks up at Jack too. “Can’t lose either of you, I swear, Jack.”

A few terse seconds, where Mac raises his head, sees how Charlie and Jack are looking at each other, something being said that Mac can’t quite understand, something important, but he knows it’s okay. Charlie and Jack have always been on the same side, have always been fond of each other, disregarding the one spat they had when Charlie had put Jack in his place about where he stands with people hurting Mac all those years ago in Afghanistan. In the end, Mac doesn’t know who moves first.

A hand touches his jaw, calloused and dark skinned, and Charlie presses his thumb to the swell of Mac’s bottom lip, tilts his head up. He doesn’t do anything, simply looks at Mac with wanting eyes, pupils blown wide, mouth parted just so, as if he doesn’t quite understand that he’s getting something that he’s wanted for years.

Jack’s breath is warm in his ears, kisses gently over the slope of Mac’s slowly pinking cheekbones.

“How do you feel about adding another person to the mix?” He murmurs, as if he doesn’t know that Mac has always had complicated feelings for Charlie, as if he wasn’t absolutely devastated when Charlie had to leave, even if it did leave to Jack. He knows they’re going to have to take more about this, when there is less terror, less relief of being alive.“I know you love him, baby, just as much as me, and I know he loves you.”

Mac gives a single shuddering exhale. The movement from his nodding head as both of them giving sharp inhales, and Charlie hunches down further, tips his head up further, Jack’s hand slips to his hips, clenching and releasing, can feel the way his stubble brushes against Mac’s shoulder, it makes him tremble just as much as Charlie’s hands on him does.

“Can I kiss you?” Charlie asks, as if he ever needs to. 

“Yes.” Mac breathes out, even pushes himself up on his tiptoes. Charlie’s hand moves from his chin to cup his jaw, and Mac clenches his hand further on Jack’s hip, can’t help how he creeps a hand up to grip Charlie’s wrist, pressing the swell of his thumb against the pulse point there. Moans softly when Charlie kisses him, slotting their mouths together, big hand cradling Mac’s jaw, from chin to temple, fingertips caught in the mess of his hair. 

Jack makes a sound like he’s been hit in the gut, desperate and wanting, like he wants to lick into Mac’s mouth, like he wants to lick into Charlie’s mouth just as much. 

[saintsurvivors]

honestly this is very self indulgent and more for my own trauma writing then anything but I really want to write a fic about mac and Charlie with mac having had a really bad experience with sex and he and Charlie having a significant discussion of it because yes mac does get aroused with the thought of rough sex and he does have arousing dreams of his assault, and he used to think it made him disgusting and things and that he deserved it, no matter how many times he's told that he doesn't and that the dreams are a natural consequence to what he went through, plenty of people do. Charlie is naturally a loving and tender lover, has been since they first told one another their feelings when they got back stateside and mac hasn't actually had rough sex despite his dreams, mostly because he's terrified and he doesn't know if he's actually aroused by it, if he'd be triggered by it, or if it's because he'd use it as a punishment for what he thinks are his depraved wants, and so Charlie and Mac have like. A massive discussion about it, about ...not wanting to reenact the assault but for mac to reconcile with it, to be able to put himself in a place of perceived powerlessness and overwrite the experience he'd endured, and Charlie expresses his own concerns about that he doesn't think he can do it himself, because he doesn't think he can hear mac say no and not immediately move away, or for himself to place his hands on mac in what he perceives as an act of violence and power, that he's open to it because he knows this is a way for mac to try and heal but that they need to make sure that they're both healthy and safe, that they so it in a neutral place because none of them want the memories of what has happened, what can happen or may happen to invade a space in macs house or the space that Charlie rents out for when he's back in NYC on fbi duty, and its strange for them, mac doesn't know the person that assaulted him, only that they wanted to "fix" him, and he thinks that having Charlie there, someone who he trusts, and loves and has been essentially through he'll and back would help, even I it doesn't necessarily overwrite the experiences he's had with sex. And yes, to a degree it is violent, it is scary, mac cries and begs for Charlie to stop, that he doesn't want it, and Charlie only compartmentalises because he knows that Mac has a safe word, and a preassigned signal that if he wants to stop, he can do so, and Charlie knows what Mac looks like in a flashback, has seen enough of of, irregardless of the trauma born from his assault and made worse with his army ptss. Doing it doesn't help much, not I the way that Mac was hoping, but it shows him that his desires, misplaced or otherwise for the rough sex he was seeking isn't a punishment, nor is it that his assault has warped his sexual desires so he can only get off on violence and force, and that yes, he can trust Charlie, who has moved back when mac has said no, and that he can trust Charlie to carry on and even stop if he does or doesn't give the safe word, even if it is even generally what people would call vanilla sex, and after, they have a long conversation after aftercare, of what it was like, how they both felt, and honestly, they both cry, broken down, because it was cathartic in a strange way.

[saintsurvivors]

my mac and charlie heart pounding when mac and jack come out of his house, bomb in hand, and charlies eyes just close in absolute relief and he just seems to fold in on himself with the weight of it

[saintsurvivors]

🌹😁

Charlie had been between tours, having just re upped for his second, and had picked up a few shifts as a EOD instructing assistant for Pena, and Al had introduced them, and they’d worked well together, enough that Al had laughed, said he wasn’t going to get jealous if Mac wanted to work with Charlie instead of an old man like him. All three of them had made a good team, even when Al had died, blown to pieces right in front of his eyes, for the longest time, Charlie had been his rock, had been the only thing keeping him afloat, until he’d met a loud mouth opinionated knuckledragger that had meshed with him as well as Charlie had.

from i'm pickin' oxycontin in a dreamstate (won't try to fight it honey, y'know i'm a lightweight)

[saintsurvivors]

in every way but physically, I’m making my charlie and mac figures hug tightly and cry on each other’s shoulder after mac saved charlie from the elevator