#SURPRISE THE GIF LOOKS LIKE SHIT ON MOBILE

[your-zipper-is-down]

01 MV

[wcnderlnds]

stupid for you | peter maximoff

SUMMARY: you and peter fall out and he makes it up to you in his own peter way WORD COUNT: 928 WARNINGS: some swearing. A/N: idk what this is but writing peter is my fave so he gets all my dumb ideas ❤️ p.s. if the format sucks it’s bc im mobile.

It wasn’t like Peter had meant to upset you. Sometimes his mouth didn’t have a filter and he said things before even thinking about it so when he called you ‘annoying and needy’, he really didn’t mean it. He wasn’t that guy. He wasn’t the type of person to ever want to upset you or anyone for that matter. So when he’d seen you walk away hurt and upset, that had sent him right into action. He just had to make it up to you — make you see how important you really were to him. It gnawed at him inside that he’d been the one to make you feel that way. Never before had he ever felt so bad. So guilty.

He’d spent the whole day trying to think of what he could do to apologise then suddenly the idea hit him. Maybe it was a little stupid, maybe you’d completely hate it but he thought it’d be cool. Different. It’d be something him.

Meanwhile, you’d spent the day moping around the X-Mansion. The training session you’d had earlier had helped distract your mind but as soon as it was over, your thoughts drifted back to Peter. The fight the two of you had had been so stupid. All you’d done is made some comment about Peter needing to slow down for a minute and listen to you and it had spiralled from there. It wasn’t often the two of you argued. In fact, you never really had. In the whole six months you’d been dating things had been going smoothly. Things had been so easy going, so fun — it wasn’t really a surprise that something was bound to happen to ruin that. When things were going good there was always something that had to come along and mess it all up.

With a sigh, you started to head upstairs to your room when suddenly a blur of silver and blue rushed past you. Before you could even blink Peter was stood right in front of you, his hands hidden behind his back. Your arms wrapped around yourself as you looked at him. “Hi.”

Your nerves were mirrored in his face as he spoke. “Hey. Uh…”

The silence fell between you. It was awkward — something that didnt happen often when it came to you and Peter. Just as you were about to open your mouth to say something he began talking.

“Okay, just let me talk for a minute before I chicken out. I’m not good at this shit. I’m not the best at filtering the stuff that comes out of my mouth. That’s why I’m always getting myself in trouble. You know that but the last thing I ever want to do is hurt you. You gotta believe me on that one. If I could, I’d punch myself in the face. I mean, I could but… I can’t break the goods, y’know?” He laughed lightly, trying to ease the tension.

“It’s my fau-“

“Gonna have to stop you there, babe,” he said as he pulled one of his hands from behind his back and held it up to signal you to stop. “Can’t have you taking the fall on this one. It’s all me. A Maximoff fuck up special. That little switch people have in their brain where they tell themselves to shut up before they say something dumb? Yeah, turns out mine is broken. Probably wasn’t born with one actually. I’m not letting you feel bad for this. It’s all on me, okay? I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “It’s okay. You really don’t have to apo-“

“I do, I really do, though. Felt bad the second I said what I said. You’re not annoying and I love when you’re clingy. I love you wanting to be around me as much as I want to be around you. You caught me on one of those rare days where I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Maybe Scott even pissed in my cereal or something, who knows. Point is that I messed up.”

“Are you gonna stop cutting me off?” You asked, an amused look on your face as you listened to your boyfriends rambling.

“Oh shit, sorry. My bad. The floor is yours.”

“What I was trying to say was that you don’t need to apologise because I forgive you anyway. We’re gonna mess up sometimes and I know you didn’t mean it. It was just hearing it come from you that upset me, I guess. Anyone else I could take it but you? Your opinions and thoughts about me matter the most. Can we just forget about it and move on?”

“Sure, yeah… but first…” he finally pulled his hand from behind his back to produce a Lego bouquet of flowers. “These are for you and lemme tell you, it was hell trying to put this together.”

“…you got me Lego flowers?”

“Duh. This way they last forever and you won’t have to worry about watering them and you can always remember the time your boyfriend was a dumbass.”

You laughed, taking them from him. “How long did it take you to put it together?”

“Might have cheated and used the ol’ mutation but I kept messing up. Some of the pieces wouldn’t fit where I wanted them to and I almost got mad and thr-“

“There’s instructions, you know.”

“Are you gonna stop cutting me off?” He grinned, hands on his hips as he echoed your words from earlier.

”Smartass.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Legacy II

Magdalena Eriksson x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Chelsea's reaction to you

Magda finally strays from your side after six weeks.

She would have stayed for longer but she knew that if she did, she would never go back to England. So, it's with a heavy heart that she gets the last of her baby cuddles and boards the flight back to London.

She mopes all through the weekend though, draining her phone battery from the frequent calls to Pernille to see you. When Monday rolls around, Magda is still in a little bit of a slump as she makes her way to training.

She gets there early like usual and sits in her cubby, scrolling through her gallery and biting at her cheek to stifle her tears. She misses you and Pernille like crazy.

"Holy shit, is that the baby?!"

Millie barges her way to Magda's cubby, sliding to sit next to her and practically wrenching the phone out of her hands.

"She's so cute!"

That makes Magda swell with pride as she points out the little things in the photo about you.

"She's got very strong reflexes," Magda boasts," So she's going to be very smart! And-And she kicks a lot so she's going to be a footballer too!"

Magda flicks to another picture and waits an appropriate amount of time for Millie to coo over you.

"And she always forgets she has feet! It's so cute! She gets so surprised."

The locker room slowly fills up and everyone makes a little stop by Magda to look at pictures of you.

"I can't believe Nilla got to see her first," Jonna complains as she watches a video of you staring up at your baby mobile," That's so unfair."

"She helped get Pernille to the hospital," Magda reminds her though her eyes don't stray from your image on her phone," I think she more than earned it."

"And Frido too? Did she really get on the first flight?"

"She did," Magda confirms," She didn't even tell us until she was outside our door. The princesse loves her though."

"Yeah, well, Fridos tend to stick together." Jonna flicked to another picture.

It was very sweet but it just made Magda miss you and Pernille even more. You're bundled up in your baby blanket, eyes closed softly. Pernille's shirtless and your little hand is gripping her collarbone possessively. Pernille's smiling down softly at you, one hand reaching up to rest on your head while the other is curled around your body to keep you stable and safe against her.

"Motherhood looks good on you," Beth says with a laugh as Magda yawns while flicking through images - she's easily got more than a hundred of just you.

"I'm exhausted," Magda replies but she keeps the smile on her face," But it's so worth it. She makes these cute little noises in her sleep and I swear she can understand me already."

Beth laughs, clapping her on the back. "Is it hard? Being away from her?"

Magda's face falls a little as she looks at your picture. "Yeah," She admits," She...She's just so little and it's just Pernille with her now. I just want her with me all the time. I've already booked a flight for next week to go and see them, straight after the game."

"You're a great mum already, Magda," Beth says," That little girl is so lucky."

The compliment makes Magda flush a little and she stares down at her home screen - a picture of you sitting on her lap. Your eyes are wide as you stare at the squeaky thing behind that camera that Pernille's using to make you look in the right direction. Magda's sitting behind you, a massive smile on her face as you lean comfortably against her.

"She's perfect," Is what she says in reply," She makes it easy to be a good mum."

Beth laughs. "God, motherhood's made you sappy. Come on, we've still got training to do."

Training is the perfect way to get her mind off of the thought of you and Pernille. Training is easy, it's repetitive and it keeps Magda from even straying into the idea of missing you as much as she does.

"Magda," Emma says as she walks past the coaching office to get to the changing rooms.

"Er...yeah?"

"Come in."

The whole exchange makes Magda feel antsy. She runs through everything that's happened in training and wonders if perhaps she has done something wrong.

She can't think of anything so feels on edge as she sits in front of Emma's desk.

"Well?" Emma says and Magda's throat bobs.

"What?"

"Do I get to see baby pictures too or are they just reserved for players?"

Magda lets out a small laugh, half of relief and half of amusement.

"You want to see them?"

Emma raises a brow. "Well, I'd like to see the future Chelsea star you and Pernille made."

Magda fishes her phone out of her pocket and opens it to her gallery. "Funny. Pernille swears she'll play for Wolfsburg."

"This little girl will play for me come hell or high water, Magda," Emma says," I'll make sure of it."

[therealtomboyfangirl]

The Security breach y/n’s

Sooooo I guess I should start doing head canon stuff I’m ganna start by starting my fnaf security breach story here. It’s a y/n story where hear y/n is different deal with it heh. So this post will be intro ducitng that I guess. They all do join at different time stamps of the pizza plex so note the when the pizza plex opens, before Bonnie’s decommission and after Bonnie decommission as time stamps of how long they have worked there. Also Represention HEH

Sun/moon’s y/n

Janitor (because sun and moon keep destroying janitor bots)

Punk morals

Has lots of tattoos and piercing and looks a bit out of place when they start working their

Gender fluid

Poly/pansexual/ demisexual

Does not understand kids and just treats them like tiny adults not really fully comfortable around them at the start but does warm up to them

always wears a bandana at work

Once their there for a good bit good-luck getting them to be fired they know to much

Their in a Toxic relationship when they start at the pizza plex

Newer staff, arrived after Bonnie decommission

Runs off of energy drinks

Monty’s y/n

Bisexual

Fem

Is strong enough to ligit throw Monty over her shoulder

Mommy issues

Has a strong will

Afraid of dark cramped spaces

Is very gentle with kids but doesn’t put up with shit from anyone

Has a fun little game of stepping on Monty’s tail at least once a day

Been around before Bonnie was decommissioned

Freddy’s y/ns

There are multiple (3 total)

Their all poly and pan or bi

1 fem (y/n #1)and 2 nonbinary (y/n #2&#3)

Freddy has so many due to him being the main star attraction

Y/n #1 is Freddy’s og handler

the leader of Freddy’s handlers.

Headstrong and protective

A situationship that has never been official with Freddy since the first week of the plex being open

Very much mommy vibes

Has a kid

Y/n #2 was Bonnie’s og handler but got transferred to Freddy after Bonnie’s decommission (more info go to Bonnie’s y/n below)

Y/n #3 was Monty’s og handler

They were transferred over to Freddy after being physically hurt by Monty

Monty didn’t know how to handle his temper back then and always took it out on y/n which was the start of Freddy’s dislike for Monty (it does get repaired later on but wayyyy later on)

They have nightmares form that time but are always comforted by the other handlers and Freddy

Chica’s y/n

Bisexual

Ftm trans

He is very tall and strong and quite

He had an intimidating aura about him

Always wears the same leather jacket

Has had issues in the past (won’t put here so they can be surprises)

Amazing lesbian moms

Will punt a bitch

Can’t pick up on flirting

Hispanic and calls Chica chica as a term of endearment

Has a pet bird named Carino

Childhood friend with DJ’s y/n who got him this job

Post Bonnie decommission

Works out for fun

Runs off of energy drinks

Rides a motorcycle

Punk mindset

DJ music man’s y/n

Asexual

Nonbinary

Helped build the pizza plex

The head sound and electrical engineer

Has 3 master degrees all in engineering

The oldest out of all the y/n’s

Runs off of energy drinks

Has access to all the pizza plex servers and software and even helped write a lot of it

Is often in the dj’s area due to the custom speakers he has

Has a prosthetic leg

Orphan

Roxy’s y/n

Lesbian

Mtf trans

She is a get shit done type of person

She sasses back to Roxy which starts their friendship

Uses a cane as a mobility aid

Wears a lot of pink and red

Is one of the few people that can do Roxy’s hair

Post Bonnie decommission

Orphan

Runs an online blog exposing big corporations and politics stuff

Foxy’s y/n

Genderfluid

Pansexual

Used to work as a bouncer before the plex

Has a generally bubbling and kind personality

Has close to same physical strength at Monty’s y/n

They and Monty’s y/n often pull Monty and foxy away form fights

They are the only handler foxy has ever had

Post Bonnie decommission

Is a hugger

Plus sized

Is the easiest to get to cry

Bonnie’s y/n

Nonbinary

Bisexual

Is currently Freddy’s second handler Bonnie’s og handler

Was always nice to Bonnie and they had a situationship

Before Bonnie was decommission Bonnie pushed them away which they were suspicious of

They say Bonnie was decommissioned Bonnie trapped them in a closet

#sucial Bonnie

Bonus character : little Timmy

A little shit

Karen mom

[justanoasisimagines]

Surprise!

Summary; Tangerine gets an unsuspected surprise when looking after the White Death's son... Pairing; Tangerine x Female Reader WordCount; 556 Warnings; Strong Language A/N; Requests are open! Request guidelines are posted on the top of the page! Credit to @cafekitsune for the divider and the banner

Tangerine couldn't quite believe his eyes. What the fuck were you doing here? You weren't supposed to be here. Tangerine stormed through the compartment. He didn't say a word as he gripped your arm dragging you toward the nearest bathroom. "What the fuck are you doing here? I told you specifically to stay at home. Last time, I checked love, it wasn't the opposite day!" "Don't have a go at me. Lemon told me to come. He said you needed me on this one" Tangerine ran his hand through his hair tugging on the ends. Tangerine thought he'd made it clear. You were to stay out of the way for this one. It was too dangerous. He didn't want you involved with the business involving the white death. "Yeah, yeah, I needed you at home Love. Somewhere safe. These people aren't our usual type-" "You know I'm fully capable of handling myself" "I know Love, your skillset is not in question, but I didn't want to be worrying about you too." "Well I'm here now, so you stuck with me." "You're not gonna do anything. Leave it to me and Lemon. Speaking of we need to get back to him." Tangerine stormed through the compartment, fingers entwined with yours as he pushed past anyone who dared to get in his way. "Hey Lemon, you're never gonna believe who I've found lurking around. It's only my fucking wife, which is odd considering I'd thought we'd left her at home. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would ya." Lemon's eyes widened as you moved toward the table, sitting adjacent to the white death son "Oh shit, I was meaning to tell you about that" "I know that much! What part of I want her to stay at home don't you understand?" "Here me out yeah. I had a reason!" "Well go on enlighten me" "No offense, but this contract has you all wound up. You're not good to me like that. Your missues is the only one who can do that" "I have a fucking mobile! She could have done that over the phone!" The two continued to bicker if you'd let them. "Could you both stop? I'm here now and unless you've got the power to stop the train. I'm stuck here. Both of you need to get your shit together" "She's right" "Of course she's fucking right, when is she not. Wait, have you eaten today, of course you haven't. Lemon go find her something to eat, would you?" Lemon raised from his chair to go find something for you to eat. Tangerine wrapped his arm around the back of the chair. "I didn't say this earlier, darlin' but I am happy to see ya. I missed ya." Tangerine leaned over grabbing hold of your face to kiss you firmly. Lemon returned passing you foo, laying some food out for himself. Tangerine looked back at him twice. "What am I Casper the fucking ghost?" "You didn't ask for anything. How was I supposed to know? I'm not a fucking mind reader." "You could have fucking asked! You never ask." The white death so leaned over the table beckoning you closer. "How do you put up with those two?" "Honestly some days, it's a labor of love, but I wouldn't have it any other way."

[itsohh]

Death Goes to Disco Part 4

A/N: Female reader, righhhttt so NEXT chapter should be the last chapter. For real this time you guys.

Summary: In the middle of winter, the three of you debark into the never-ending darkness of Greenland's winter. Not used to the cold, you struggle to adapt to the cold but Ghost and Soap are there to help.

Word count:  3038

Warnings: not smut but not exactly sfw either

AO3 Masterlist Part 1 Part 3

Cold. So. Freezing. Cold.

In the seemingly permanent darkness, you trekked through the snow. The jacket that covered every inch of your skin really did try. It kept you going, get you mobile, kept you combat-ready. Yet, you knew later at night when you had to stop moving its wetness would become a detriment.

In-between the two men you followed Ghost while Soap walked behind you. All three of you had night vision goggles on to cope. "You alright there Disco?" You heard Soap ask when you clutched your jacket a bit tighter.

"It's fucking cold!" Your voice managed to get out despite the fluffy jacket hood that covered most of your face.

"Not used to the cold eh?"

"Not used to extreme weather."

"Prefer being in the desert?"

"Fuck no, at I can warm up. Only so many clothes you can take off."

"In extreme heat, it's wiser to wear many layers. Polyester is not recommended." Ghost spoke in front of you.

"Fuck are you serious?" You hissed and Ghost looked back at you for a moment with his brow raised. "My uniform back when I was in Afghanistan was made of teredo. In the middle of the goddamn summer."

"What's teredo?" Soap asked.

"Polyester cotton hybrid." You answered with a huff and Soap let out a laugh before your head snapped back at him.

"Ah, I'm sorry. I- that's horrible really. They didn't have anything else?"

"Not really, my uniform fit shit anyway." You looked forward and soon caught up to Ghost who looked down his scope. Johnny joined the pair of you and you copied Ghost's action.

At the end of your scope, you could see what he was looking at. A small cabin, more of a shack than anything. Hidden away in the side of a mountain. If you didn't know to look there, it was extremely easy to miss.

"See that?" Ghost asked.

"Sure do."

"Affirmative."

"That's our destination. Our base of operations."

"Think they have a fireplace in there?" Soap asked.

"No fire."

"Negative."

Both you and Ghost spoke at the same time much to each other's surprise.

"Even if it has a fireplace we should avoid using it. The smoke would give away our location." You swallowed and explained. Ghost gave you a nod at your explanation and you couldn't help but feel pride sweet inside your chest. Like you were a fresh rookie again.

"How long are we staying here LT?" Soap asked.

"Estimated two weeks." Ghost looked towards him.

"Two weeks?" Soap was surprised and he glanced at you for a moment.

"Will we have the supplies for that? I'm not a fan of reindeer." You muttered the last part under your breath.

"Should be, let's get out there and find out."

Despite the close proximity of the building, it took the three of you about half an hour to finally reach it. Ghost took point and was the first to enter, Soap right on his tail. Soon came the call for all clear. Safe as safe could be.

"Hey, Ghost?" You asked as you shrugged off your back onto the sofa. His head turned to face you as he removed his own bag. "You said in the briefing we were here on the odd case that Willem took this path through Greenland. What if he doesn't?"

"Then that's up to the Denmark government."

"No I mean, what do we do?"

"Wait until the call."

"Huh really shelled us out for something so boring?" Soap popped up next to you.

"They need Willem caught, numbers on this path aren't an option. They needed to make sure that if he came this way it was someone that could deal with it."

"Why two weeks?"

"His mobility is slow. Careful but slow."

"You would think that they would work fast with the darkness and all that." Soap took his backpack off and played it on the table to unpack.

"Willem and his men aren't familiar with the land. It was a risk to flee here. We are here to make sure it doesn't pay off."

"Sure thing. Supply check?" Your eyes went past him to the cupboards in the kitchen.

"Inventory, count it." He nodded and you got to work.

In about half an hour the three of you grouped up again. With a list in one hand, you sat down on the couch and Soap joined you. Ghost eventually turned up with a stack of blankets in his hands.

"Ooo that's what I like to see." Your hand went to snatch the top one and you heard Soap laugh next to you under his breath. The room was cold, not as cold as it was outside but still really cold. With your jacket now off to dry, you would take anything you could get.  This meant while you weren't in active danger, you were keeping that blanket like it was a lifeline.

"Report?" At Ghost's voice had you looked up at him and nodded.

"Not including our own supplies we brought, this place could realistically easily supply us for about a year in canned foods. Whoever normally looks after this place does it well. Water is something we will need to get ourselves but with the snow and ice outside I think we should be fine. There's a gas oven in the kitchen hooked up to some propane bottles under the cabinet. Counted four of them."

"Right. I counted our supplies. Among us, we have about 800 rounds, 12 'nades, 3 flashes and 6 smoke."

"Add another 40 rounds. There's an unmodified Marksman which was on the wall of the master. There are four bedrooms with outside windows. Jumping from them is not advisable. There is an attic with an escape hatch. Found out there's also another ladder under that rug over there which leads downward. It's a one-way trip. So only use it in the case of emergency. About our warmth situation, the fireplace is buggered. Couldn't use it if we wanted to."

"Any other type of heating aside from these?" You asked Ghost and he slightly shook his head.

"The building is well initialized, in the bedrooms I've reinforced the windows with blankets and tape. The longer we stay here the warmer it should get."

"Great." You mumbled and pulled the blanket closer around you. Perhaps they would warm up quickly, you certainly weren't.

"We got power here?"

"Negative on that Soap. This place seems to be designed for the summer. While it has the capability to get power from the solar panels we don't have the sun on our side. Everything's dead."

"Our batteries on all our equipment should easily last two weeks right?" You asked and Ghost gave you a single nod.

"Inventory done, now, after we eat we will be doing shifts. Four-hour blocks. Two sleep, one awake."

"I call the first shift." You said.

"Soap you take second, I'll take last."

"Rodger that. So." Soap turned to face you. "Whats allocated for tonight's dinner?"

You pushed off the couch and headed to the kitchen and pulled out some cans and placed them on the island. "Beef." You smiled at him and gestured to the next can. "Beans."

"Have we got seasoning here?" Soap gave you a slightly hopeful smile that was in vain. It was lucky the group of you had food at all and didn't have to rely on MRIs or the local fauna.

"No." You gave him your own bitter smile.

"Just like when it's Ghost's turn to cook then." John made sure to look directly at you and avoid Ghost whose head slowly turned to look at the man. A death glare in his eyes.

"Do you have a problem with my cooking Sergeant?"

"Maybe use a little bit of oregano in the future? Just a thought. Perhaps a bit of chives on spuds. Now that I think of it, maybe some paprika on the chicken. At least it's not dry." Soap kept his eyes on you and you couldn't help but chuckle slightly with your brows raised as he dug himself into a hole.

"I will take your advice into consideration." Ghost's shoulders dropped and he turned back to face you.

"Since Johnny has demonstrated his culinary expertise. He can cook for us today." Soap opened his mouth and shut it. You pushed the cans towards him and grabbed a couple more.

"Thanks Soap."

-

First shift wasn't easy. With the eternal darkness of the night, it made it impossible to know what time it was without looking at your watch. Ghost had instructed you that you didn't need to specifically look out a scope just keep an eye out for anything.

Which led to boredom.

It was three and a half hours in that you felt another presence. Your eyes flicked up from the game of solitaire that you had set out in front of you to see Ghost there. His eyes went to yours. Even though you could barely see him with the small lantern next to you, you were able to see that his greasepaint was removed from around his eyes and he was left just in his mask.

His eyes were on your hand that rest on the pistol next to you. "Can't sleep?" Your voice was soft slowly he came up to you.

"Checking on you."

"Me? Worried I'm going to murder you in your sleep or something?" You laughed and he sat down on the ground in front of you.

"No. If you were going to kill me it would have been back in Las Almas." Your laugh died down and your eyes fell a bit at his mention of the past.

"Well, I'm still kicking if that's what your wondering. A bit cold but I'll deal. You should go back to sleep. I have to wake Soap in a bit anyway. Unless you swapped shifts with him?"

"No." His eyes looked down at your game of cards which was set up.

"I keep losing, I suck at solitaire."

"Surprising, heard from Soap you would have fleeced him dry if you were playing with real money."

"Oh, I'm great at poker and other games you play with other people. Solo games, ugh." You looked down to see you had fucked it up and let out a huff. “Half of the game isn’t about the cards but the way you portray yourself.” You shuffled the cards and paused. “Want some water? Still have some melted from dinner.”

“I’m good.”

“Suit yourself, Lieutenant. Did you wish to play a game then? Since you don’t seem like your heading back to bed yet.”

“You play a lot of cards, why?”

“Something to pass the time.” You glanced down and swallowed. “I used to be really bad at it. When I joined NZSAS I became rather close with a Sergent. Hina was her name. I always ended up assigned under her even when she became a Lieutenant. She always used to stress the importance of staying sane in the military. Downtime was the big part. She always believed that we needed to keep our minds as clear as possible. Preventing paranoia was a big one. So she would always have a pack of cards on her.”

Ghost seemed content to listen so you started to start another game in front of you. “Of course, I was terrible so she made it her personal mission to coach me on the matter. Wasn’t the only thing she coached me on.”

“Hand-to-hand?”

“She taught me how to be a marksman. No, that came from our Captain. Captain Hommeys. Hommeys was an interesting woman,  sort of a good cop bad cop thing with Hina. Our Captain was a scary ass woman. Far scarier than you.” You glanced up and gave him a wink. “Which could be a problem with recruits and rookies. People would be too afraid to bring up matters so, we would get people to go to Hina. They were a great team.”

“Were?”

“Hina died a few years back and Hommeys lost a leg. Still tough as nails.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Part of this life isn’t it? Makes every day that much more important ‘cause you never know when it's gonna be your last. One second’s all it takes. One day all you’re going to be left with are memories of your loved ones so it's best to make those memories good right?” You gave him a gentle smile. You looked down at the cards.” From what I heard Hommeys still works on base. Works as an adviser but I didn’t see her when I was there.” You paused when your watch let out a small beep.

“Mmm four hours already? I still feel so awake, maybe I should let John rest more.”

“No. It’s important you get rest.” Ghost narrowed his eyes at you and you put the cards back together.

“Should take your own advice. You need sleep too Ghost.”

“I will.” Ghost followed your lead when you got up and stretched. With Ghost behind you, you found your way to the master bedroom where John was fast asleep. He had stretched across the large bed. His hand lay on the missing area where Ghost had been. You wondered if they would still share a bed when others were around or if it was because it was only the three of you.

Gently you shook John's shoulder and he blinked his eyes open with a groan. “Disco? Mmm, swap time already?” You nodded at his question. “Fuck, your fingers are cold. Like ice.” He shivered away from you and started to get up. Your eyes fell on Ghost who seemed rather interested in what Soap had said.

“You're still cold.”

“It’s like -6, yeah I’m cold.” You smiled at him and started to walk away from the bed. When you passed Ghost he caught your wrist and you practically jumped at the action. His hand was warm, really warm. How he managed to stay this warm surprised you and subtly you leaned into his touch.

“Get in.”

“Pardon?” Your eyes went wide and darted from his to Johnnys.

“You need to stay warm. Our bed's still warm and you will heat up far faster with the pair of us here. Get in.” He explained and you could see John’s lips curl up and snicker. You passed John the lantern and cautiously got onto the bed.

“Have fun you two.” You could feel your cheeks heat up at John's comment. Ghost was right though, the spot was really warm from John. The light disappeared from view and the door clicked closed behind him. You pulled the blanket close and let out a breath. Then you felt him. Ghost move closer towards you and wrapped an arm around your midsection while his now face pressed against your neck. “Ohh.” You let out a sigh of relief and pressed back against him. “Your so warm.” You hummed.

“Should have said something.”

“I did say I was a little cold.” You muttered and he pulled you closer.

“This is not a little cold. This is concerningly cold. I’ll have to remember you downplay things. It's my job to look after you.”

“You sound like my old doctor.” You whined and he made a sound of disproval.

“Not something I want to hear Disco.”

“No scolding me right now Ghost. Not when I’m about to sleep.” Ghost made a sound against you, a sound that rumbled against his chest and through you. He didn't continue on the matter and soon you closed your eyes.

-

The sleep you got that night was probably one of the best sleeps you had in a very long time. When you awoke you weren’t surprised by the weight that pressed against you. What you were surprised by was who it was. John had swapped with Ghost during the night and now had an arm locked around you. You start to move a little only for his grip to tighten and pull you flush against him.

A firm ‘object’ pressed into your ass.

…

…

His cock. John's cock pressed firmly against your ass and he let out a little unintelligible mumble. You moved a little and he let out a deep hiss against your shoulder. “If you keep moving your only gonna make it harder.” He groaned- more like moaned- in your ear. “Unless that's what you want?” He practically purred.

“John- you're in a relationship. That was a one-time thing.” You swallowed and stayed perfectly still.

“You didn’t have fun?” He pushed his chest further against your back.

“I did, I just- there's a difference between a one-night stand and- ” You let out a sigh of frustration. “I’m not going to be the third wheel to your relationship, some toy.” Your voice went quiet at the end of your sentence. Almost impossible to hear. If he hadn’t been right next to you, there would have been a very high chance that he didn’t hear it all. A pregnant pause surrounded the pair of you for what seemed like a lifetime. In reality, it was maybe a minute or less.

“Then don’t be. You can make this whatever you want it to be.” You felt his thumb gently rub the front of your waist.

“What?”

“If you want us, you can have us. Anyway you want. Ghost and I talked about it last night. If you don’t want anything that's fine too. Won’t change anything professionally between the three of us. Can pretend it never happened if you want.” Soap breathed under your ear and you felt his nose brush against your neck. “Won’t lie though, I’d like it if you joined us. Ghost feels the same.”

“What, like a throuple?”

“That's what they call it eh? Despise that word, but yeah.”

“And your not just saying this because your dicks pressed into my ass?” You felt Soap laugh against you.

“Trust me if that was my motivation I’d go find Ghost like I do most mornings.” Soap let out a breath and continued. “If you want to think about it we can give you time or-”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll date you and Ghost.”

[bullet-prooflove]

4000 Followers: Barcelona - Matthew Keller x Reader

Tagging: @rosielou94 d @kmc1989@toheavenwmydrms@noxytopy

Companion piece to:

5 Times - Keller almost tells you he loves you.

Three Minutes - It takes three minutes for Matt Keller to lose his humanity.

Transactional - In the wake of your injury, you leave Keller a Dear John letter.

It takes a couple of months for Matt to track you down. You’ve rented an apartment in Barcelona, near the town centre because your working a legal gig for the Picasso Museum. Your business has been flourishing in the time you’ve been apart. You’ve bounced from Frankfurt, Vienna, Milian and now to here. Matt’s always been a few steps behind you, he’s missed you by twelve hours back in Italy.

Matt has never done this before. He doesn’t chase after women, he’s usually the one that does the leaving. The fact he wants to follow you, it speaks volumes.

When you enter the apartment he’s sitting on your couch flicking through a Spanish fashion magazine, his brow furrowed. He sets it down on the coffee table as you close the door behind you.

"I'm not giving you security details for the museum." You tell him drifting towards your desk to check your laptop. To your surprise it looks untouched.  

"You know that's not why I'm here." He says as he raises to his feet and approaches the desk. His fingertips caress the tiny terracotta dog perched on the corner. It’s new, an unusual piece, not expensive but he knows it’s a sign, one that you’re planning to stay for a while.

“No I don’t.” You say distractedly as you close your laptop. “Because you don’t give me a reason behind anything you do, why you leave, why you stay, why you turn up in my place in Barcelona. I get nothing from you Matt.”

“Avery…” He says softly, his palm coming to rest upon yours and you pull away because his touch, it always leads to the same damn thing. “You know how fucked up I am.”

“Yea,” You tell him meeting his gaze. “It’s a good excuse to hide behind when shit gets too real isn’t it?”

This right here, this is why he loves you. You see through all of his bullshit, you call him on it. You are the first person who has ever bothered to scratch beneath the surface of his psyche. The only one that sees him.

“Avery.” He whispers, catching your hand. He squeezes it lightly and your fingers twitch underneath his touch. You don’t have much mobility in it anymore, Woodford saw to that. “Please just let me show you.”

“We’ve played this game before and we both know where it leads.” You say as you draw away, your hand slipping from his. It feels like a knife plunging into his chest but he gets it, your protecting yourself because he is not a safe bet, he never has been.

You watch as he removes his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans before he takes out a ticket stub and places it on the desk beside you.

“This is from the night we went to that art show in MOMA, you were wearing that dress, the blue one with the white flowers.” He murmurs as his hands come to rest on your hips. You tip your head up to look at him and for a moment he allows himself to hope, he prays that this is the time he can finally get the words out. “I remember because…”

…that was the day I fell in love with you.

But the words they just won’t leave his lips, they die in his throat as he cradles your face between his hands, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. He realises in that moment that it’s never going to happen. Those words they’re associated with so many terrible things in his life. There’s no pleasure in them, no joy, there’s just anguish and grief.

“I can’t tell you what you want to hear sweetheart but I promise you I feel it.” Matt whispers against your lips. “I feel it with every fibre of my being."

“You should go.”  You tell him, your palm coming to rest upon his chest before you push him away lightly. “You’re just going to break my heart all over again.”

You twist away from him then, because your eyes are stinging and you don’t want him to see that weakness in you.

“Avery.” He rasps and sigh as you turn back towards him.

“Matt look…” You trail off because the last thing you expect to see is Matthew Keller on one knee in front of you, a little black box in his hand.

You recognise the ring, Alexandrite with an accent marquise cut, set between two diamond leaf clusters in a rose gold band. You’d been devastated when you’d had to sell it to pay Matt’s legal bills but you’d owed him, because he’d killed a man for you, saved you from something worse than death.

There’s a lot of history attached to that ring. It had been taken from your family in the late 1930s along with the rest of their belongings before they’d been shipped off to a concentration camp in Germany. Out of the four family members that went in only one came out, your Grandmother. That ring was the only memory she had had of her own family. It had been the first thing that you and Matt stolen together. It had been residing in a collection of stolen Jewish artwork, along with other Nazi memorabilia. The other shit that man had had in his collection…

You’d burned that place to the fucking ground afterwards.

“I hate shit like this.” Matt had told you after you’d deposited the three stolen pieces of artwork you’d managed to rescue inside Peter Burke’s porch. He’d find it in the morning, get it back to the place it belonged to.

“All she wanted is to see this ring one more time before she died.” You’d told him as you sat in the passenger seat of his car, looking at the circlet inside the tiny black box. “They took everything from her.”

“We did a good thing here tonight.” He’d told you as he’d walked you to your door that evening. “Consider this one on me.”

You’d taken him to bed for the first time that night.

And now he’s on one knee in front of you, with your Grandmother’s ring.

“I might not be able to say it.” He tells you, his eyes meeting yours. “But sweetheart trust me when I say I feel it.”

Love Keller? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[twelfthgnome]

HELLOOO! Hope you are doing well!

I just wanted to say that I really like your work and make a small request if you don't mind. My birthday is in a few days (October 20) and I wanted to know if you could write something about how Alec Hardy would treat you on your birthday?

Since that i really really like your fic about alec, thanks! <3

Thank You For Being a Friend

A/N: happy early birthday, love! Hope you enjoy this fluffy goodness, let me know your thoughts <3

Summary: DS Y/N Warner spends her birthday at work with her boss/partner DI Alec Hardy

Tags: fem!reader or fem!pronouns, fluff, established relationship, cussing/sexual inferences, just fluffy goodness

She'd sat in her car for a full 10 minutes, considering the merits of actually going into work. For one, it was her birthday and that could mean kind coworkers, an easy day, and loads of sweets. But, on the other hand, it was her birthday and that could mean everyone forgetting, giving her the shit end of the stick and being stuck in the office until at least 11pm. She glared at her mobile that still proudly declared that her boyfriend/boss DI Alec Hardy had not sent a Happy Birthday text. Or even a good morning text - though they weren't the sort of couple who did that anyway.

Y/N couldn't quite tell if he forgot or just wasn't a texter. Though she knew both could be true. She grumbled as she unbuckled, going inside like she knew she was going to anyway. The petty part of her knew she wasn't going to announce her birthday, they'd have to be the ones to remember.

The waiting had made her late, and Katie was not shy in saying so as she walked in and placed her stuff on her desk.

"You're late." The young officer said without bothering to look up from her papers.

Y/N rolled her eyes, "good observation."

"You're the Detective Sergeant, you shouldn't be late," Katie said, at least looking up this time through pursed lips and narrowed eyes.

Alec came from his office, spectacles on his nose. He looked quite nice today, his shirt freshly ironed and tucked into a neat pair of slacks. Even though he'd been more freshened in the past few years than his once more sickly ways, he hadn't looked that well in ages. Y/N found her brows shooting up in surprise.

"Lay off, Harford," Hardy grumbled without looking up, headed straight for the front of the office where he could delegate tasks for the day. The young officer's cheeks flushed though she maintained a calm expression as she gathered her notes to listen to her superior. Y/N tried to fight the little smile on her face.

"Few things for today, we've got a list of party goers from the Bakers this past weekend. Looks to be about 30." Alec Hardy went through each of the items for the day, a whole list of things that sounded boring and fascinating for the primary two cases and the smaller things. It came down to the final two, collecting witness statements or parking tickets. Y/N loathed parking duty more than anything. It was boring, tedious, and she quite fancied entirely useless to the whole of police work. But she hadn't heard Hardy call for her yet, and on days when it was something as simple as witness statements he'd shove the parking tickets to her. And on her bloody birthday, she groaned internally. "Warner, you're with me for the statements. Harford, parking tickets."

The DC's eyebrows shot up and she held back a very nasty scoff, "I've already got loads to do with the footprint of the thief!"

"And you'll find time for the tickets."

"You don't need two people for the statements," she argued.

"And I can always find another DC, can't I?" Alec finally said, removing his glasses to look Katie directly in the eyes. She cowered under him, though it was the reluctant sort of cower of someone who thought their opinion to be better. "Right, get to work."

People spread out quickly to do their tasks, Ellie popping by to press a quick kiss to Y/N on the cheek and murmur a happy birthday. They’d been friends long enough that Ellie knew Y/N didn’t want to make a big fuss over her birthday if nobody already knew. But she told her that she best have the best day and to cut Alec some slack, “he’s not great with the social stuff, but he cares.”

“I know, I know.”

Ellie grinned, “you have a great day and pop round mine after? Open a bottle of Chardonnay and watch Golden Girls?”

“Sounds amazing.”

"You ready, Warner?" Hardy asked as he left his office, hair just slightly mused and adorable glasses perched on the end of his nose. She smiled, he didn’t often wear those when he wasn’t reading. She loved them, but doubted he knew that.

"Yes, sir."

Ellie pinched Y/N’s elbow as she left to go to her desk for paperwork. DS Warner tried to stop the glee as she reached for her things to do witness statements with Alec. That was the sort of thing she enjoyed, actual footwork. An interrogation would have been nice but those didn't just get scheduled the way a nice ol' statement could've. She would take what she got, Alec telling the young DC to fuck off and to enjoy her time with him.

They walked dutifully down to her car, and to her surprise Alec plucked the keys from her hand and slid into the driver’s seat. He didn’t drive often. Not that he couldn’t, or hated it, but because when his heart condition was flaring up and the bastard was too stubborn to get the pacemaker, she had become the accidental designated driver. So seeing him drive was out of the ordinary.

“You’re driving?” She asked as she slid into the passenger’s seat.

Alec scoffed, adjusting the heat so it was damn near freezing, “you act like I don’t have a license.”

“Sometimes I wonder.”

“Shut it.” His arm came to rest on the back of her seat while he backed out, and she allowed herself to stare at him, just a little. He was her man, after all. She had a little right to do so.

They drive in companionable silence for just under thirty minutes as Alec pulled up to the home of one of the partygoers. This particular man, Teagan Garrett, was on the middle of their list. Just unnoticeable that he didn’t strike any alarm bells, but with no solid alibi at the time of the robbery. Which left them straight at the middle.

DS Warner enjoyed doing this, even if some found it tedious. She didn’t have to spend her day holed up in an office, wondering what the next move was and not knowing where her information was going. Whenever she was in the office, she felt it wasn’t accurately reaching the people on the ground, but that was another issue for another day. Today was her birthday, and she was going to spend it well.

And about 15 minutes later, she was spending it happily eating a Danish in the car as Alec drove to the next house. Garrett wasn’t suspicious at all, but he made a delightful cherry Danish that smeared red on her lips but she didn’t care. Y/N ate it happily and smiled out the window, watching the hills blend together.

Before they left the car for the next one, Alec touched her shoulder gently to get her attention.

“Darling, you’ve got…” he lifted a hand, cradling her jaw as he swiped at the cherry filling along the corner of her mouth. Then, without breaking eye contact through those spectacles, Alec popped his thumb in his mouth, licking it clean of the filling. Her mouth fell open in slight shock, feeling her body thrum under the energy of it. There was a look in his eyes, a quirk of his mouth, that seemed to suggest he knew exactly what he was doing. But he said nothing more as he gathered his belongings and left the car.

She blinked, took a deep breath and one last clench of her thighs before getting out of the car as well. Alec Hardy was already several steps ahead of her, a knowing smirk before putting on his disgruntled detective expression. Y/N didn’t know how to feel. On one hand she wanted to grab him by the back of his neck and force him to use that tongue elsewhere, and on the other she wanted to bash him with her purse for getting her so riled up before the next meeting.

If Y/N had paid much attention to Alec’s actions throughout the day, she would have noticed that he both treated her and teased her continuously. He’d give her a cuppa just the way she liked, then compliment her so blatantly before they had to leave she was bright red. It happened that way all day, and by 10am she’d even forgotten it was her birthday and that Alec had forgotten as well. It was just a bizarre day full of danishes and sexy eyes - though she certainly wasn’t complaining.

By 5pm, her feet were exhausting her. Ellie’s earlier invitation of opening a bottle of wine and watching Golden Girls until they pass out to the floor sounded like an amazing idea.

“D’you mind if we go to Miller’s? Got a packet to pick up.”

Her brows furrowed, “oh, um, yeah. I’ve actually meant to go there myself.”

He nodded this as good news, squeezed her thigh, then continued the drive. She looked out the window to avoid his confident smirk that he’d fired her up, knowing he had. It didn’t take long to reach Ellie’s, and Y/N noticed the lights in the Latimer home were off. She wondered where they were this time of day, it wasn’t like Beth to go out for dinner.

Alec parked and the two of them walked up to the house, his hand resting on the small of her back. She wanted to lean into his comforting touch.

“Have I told you yet you look good today?” Y/N mentioned softly to Alec, looking up at him.

He let out a small smile, “I should tell you that.”

“You already did.” She pointed out.

With a soft touch, Alec grabbed her waist and pulled her against him. All he did was press a soft kiss to her forehead, but it was enough to make her let out a sigh of relief. She wanted to use Alec as a personal comforter and sleep for the next decade.

Ellie swung the door wide open, smile bright and arms wide to scurry the couple in. Her and Alec disappeared into the dining room as Y/N shucked her shoes off.

“Ellie?” She called, not knowing where they’d gone. “Alec?”

“Dining room, darling!” Y/N walked on sore feet through the kitchen, prepared to badger Alec about why he’d run off the second the door opened. But she stopped, staring with wide eyes.

In front of her, Beth and Chloe Latimer, Ellie, and Alec all stood awkwardly around a table covered in her favorite things. A tastefully done dish lie in the center, the smell enough to make her mouth water. And a chilled Chardonnay already opened and poured into a glass in Alec’s proffered hand.

“Happy Birthday!” The girls all squealed out at once, causing Alec’s face to scrunch up in annoyance. The sight made you giggle.

Chloe Latimer went and grabbed Y/N’s hand, leading her to the head of table, “come, come, I’ll prepare a plate for you!”

“Oh my, thank you all so much. This is astounding!”

Ellie shot a pointed look towards DI Alec Hardy, who offered her the chilled glass of wine. He came close enough to whisper and said, “you didn’t think I forgot, didya?”

She flushed, feeling awful guilty now. It wasn’t that he was a bad partner, she’d never thought that. Their lives were beyond stressful, birthdays seemed superficial sometimes.

“You hate these kind of things.”

He cocked his head to the side, “you don’t.”

She set her glass down to grab his face, but he beat her to it, lips meeting hers with that unrestrained passion she found so pleasantly addictive. His beard scraped her skin but she’d found in recent months that she loved that feeling, and he knew it.

Y/N would have loved to carry this makeout session farther, but then she felt a chip thrown at her face by Chloe, and gingerly removed herself from Alec. Her cheeks were flushed bright pink. Beth and Ellie both waggled their eyebrows at her, then burst into laughing upon realizing they did it at the same time.

It was shaping up to be a rather lovely birthday after all.

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2024: #15

15. AUSTRIA Kaleen - "We will rave" 25th place

Decade Ranking: 50/153 [Above Systur, below Lesley Roy]

WHEN THE DARKNESS HITS AND WE CAN'T BE SAVED

WIRAM WI DAM DAM DA WE WILL RAVE

Fucking AMAZING chorus. At this stage of the ranking, I don't really give too many shits about the flaws in the product. And that's for the best because Holy Hell Kaleen that was NOOOOOOOT GOOOOOOOD (objectively). Fortunately it was still very entertaining (also objectively?), so.

Also at this point, you may expect some real emotional investment from my part and Kaleen is clear example of that too. SHE, more than anyone else, was the uncrowned queen of Millennial Monroehood this year. Not only did she provide a fucking BANGER from the time I was a middleschooler, she also SERVED:

LOOKS

PERSONALITY

POISE

JE NE SAIS QUOI

ATTITUDE

and also NONE OF THE VOCALS. 😍 😍 😍

And this comes on top of her song being leaked two months in advance off Marvin Dietmann's laptop, and becoming a viral hit among millennial eurotwitter BEFORE its full release ♥ (and I fully buy into the conspiracy theory that the leak was intentional to build hype.)

But yeah, this performance was heavily flawed, I won't deny that. "We will rave" is a great song and it's only 15th on my ranking, that's how far south that went.

It is equal parts comical and tragic that Marvin Dietmann arranged for his PARTNER (I assumed "business partner" at first, but apparently also partner in a domestic sense? Yeah I'm as surprised as you are that he likes the clam.) to be cast for Eurovision and then failed to provide staging for her that capitalized on her strengths.

Kaleen is a professional dancer and dance instructor.

She runs Marvin's Dance School FOR HIM, FOR A LIVING.

The leak showed a vibrant dance choreography that allowed her to (barely) provide passable vocals.

She's a natural born performer of the ~rhythmic arts~

So what does Marvin do?

HE REDUCES HER DANCE ROUTINE TO THE TYPE OF TARD DANCE ANYONE CAN EXECUTE.

HAS HER WALK AROUND THE STAGE. NOT DANCE. WALK.

AND HAD HER DANCERS SHIMMY HER AROUND IN LIEU OF A DANCE BREAK.

ALL SO THAT SHE CAN DELIVER THE BEST VOCAL PERFORMANCE... WHICH IS... WORSE THAN IN THE DEMO BECAUSE UM HELLO EARTH-TO-MARVIN:

YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS A DANCER, AND NOT A SINGER.

And all of that, I mean I'm sorry, is fucking hilarious, foremost. I know the live was "bad" but god it was really good at being bad. Casting your girlfriend and then FAILING to take her skillset (anything involving movement) into account is so uproariously funny to me. The staging was not bad on paper (it tried to increase momentum via the lasers and looks good if you mute), but it featured a slow, aenemic choreography that couldn't keep up with the music's light speed pace. That same dichotomy killed Halo, killed Edgar and almost killed "We Will Rave" too. This is the choreo you'd give to someone who cannot dance either due to being a block of wood (Dons) or old (Meri Bas.).

Even Firefighter, which is a fucking abortive attempt at a "dance song", had more tempo and life and let Nutsa (who is NOT a dancer) perform a break by herself. Christ Marvin.

(Granted it may be the outfit that forced Kaleen to perform a pantomime rather than a dance, but if that's the case... change the outfit? If those boots restrict your mobility, then don't wear them AT ALL, you know?)

However, as much as my appreciation for the live is based on irony and schadenfreude, I also just really love the song that much. "We will rave" is the best written girlbanger of this year - catchy, infectuous, smoking hot, and a wonderful throwback to the good Flemish techno of the early aughts. It's such a fucking banger in the style of Milk Inc, Lasgo, X Session, Touch of Joy, 2Fabiola, etc.

The prechorus and lyrics are delectable, and Kaleen is, despite her vocal inaccuracies, a charming hostess and style icon. Her personality is the saving grace of this live performance and the reason why I still embrace it in the face of its many mistakes. As disrespectful as Marvin's choreography was, she was flawless in its execution. SHE is what turns "We Will Rave" into a ride. The choreo and the results both did her dirty, but eh. Someone had to finish near the bottom. This year, that was Austria.

Now SAVOUR this last ever instance of them being fun in Eurovision because they'll only send salvaduncans from hereonout. If Eurovision isn't cancelled first, of course.

THE RANKING

[phantomram-b00]

So I saw this post and I just wanna talk about it, specifically the last two,

The fact people think Crowley hates Aziraphale over the finale is kinda baffling and unserious to me. Like I’m not saying Crowley isn’t going to be mad at him, but hate is very much a strong word considering everything they’ve been through together. Because if that was the cast, shit Crowley could’ve hated him a long as time ago, even from a beginning since they’re suppose to be enemies, they drill it in Aziraphale and I don’t doubt hell drill it in Crowley’s head too about this but he doesn’t (and I highly doubt Aziraphale hated Crowley) or even during the holy water situation or any moment when they had a spat or disagreement. Did this finale gave him a wound, yes, (like I may be a Aziraphale kin but that shit hurt my feelings) am I saying Crowley is incapable of hate? No I’m sure he hates a lot of things (*cough cough*, metatron rn) but I don’t see him bringing himself to hate Aziraphale over this nor do I think he’ll try to, it be out of character for him to even try to. This is the same character that brought down London are mobile phone network and called that his sinful deed, so are we really expecting more out of that?

And no, Crowley not gonna become Duke of Hell to spite him, that’s also an out of character thing, just because he said no and Aziraphale said yes with his promotion, doesn’t mean he going to just waltz back to hell and tell Shax “hey I wanna be Duke of Hell role since my non-official spouse left me for his job”, he not petty like Aziraphale; he going to stay in earth since that’s his home. That’s his space, why else do you think we hardly see scene of him in hell, because he never considered hell home/his side (and let not kid ourself, who would if you have people like Furfur who most likely lick the walls and how claustrophobic that place is, so I feel Crowley). I’m not trying to bring back the job episode since everyone talk about it, (I love the episode as much as the next person) I do think that is a prime example of him saying he doesn’t even on hell’s side. So imma just bring up the other minisode where after the magic show, they celebrate it and also comment on how they both are in shades of grey in some way, Crowley being the darker grey whilst Aziraphale being the lighter shade (which I’m surprised no one talked about, someone probably did an I missed it but I’m just surprised no one is talking about that conversation but I digress.) so the whole “Duke of hell Crowley” is nonsense, could be a fun au for fanfic but on paper it doesn’t fit really.

Okay now to the whole “they’re going to be turn into mortals”, I was gonna make a post about this but I didn’t want to come off as someone who disagree with all the theories, but this one, I really can’t stand, (if you believe it, cool that’s valid.) and imma just talk about it. While sure, it can be they have no side anymore, but why would you want them to be separated again, especially since we don’t know where they’ll even go if they do die. But also, just because they love humanity doesn’t mean they want to be mortal, like I get the romantic implication of this theory/prediction, but I honestly don’t think turning them human is romantic nor is it a good thing, it feels more like a punishment all over again because they love each other. Look even if they do the whole reincarnation thing which fine, book of life did this. Well done, good writing all around, but it still another form of punishment because they going to be separated all the damn time. Like especially since they didn’t turn ineffable bureaucracy into humans (not to being the ship into it since I do love this ship.) so why would they make ineffable spouse/husband/wives into humans? Why should they be punish for simply loving each other? Why can’t they enjoy eternity loving each other as demon and angel, or just immortal beings since at the end of the day, they wouldn’t want a side, they are their own side.

Now look, I’m all for angst, I feel season 3 might have some with how season 2 ended, but sometimes, some angst idea like the one I just talk about or what the op posted just doesn’t make sense/out of character. And I just had to talk about it even thought I really am not suppose to be up. (I only am because I toke what felt like a century nap Crowley gets.) I know season 2 left us with mixed emotions, like I haven’t felt that way since Arcane. And you know, if you do believe in the Theory mention in the post or what I said, cool, that’s valid, don’t let me tell you otherwise. Just I don’t find myself agreeing with these, if you do tell me why, anyway, I just needed to say this, here another Crowley gif since I love this character and I do find myself in him. (Maybe not as much as I find myself in Aziraphale but close enough, I kin them both)

[beefromanoff]

Project Mockingbird Ch. 4

summary: lots of testing to find out what's going on with Charlotte...hopefully a breakthrough?

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

author's note: let me know what you think! thanks for reading, xox!

tag list: @bangtanxberm (let me know if you want to be added <3)

chapter list

_________________________________________________________

The first thing I felt was a pounding in my head. I wondered if I was back in Vegas, if I’d overdone it the night before, the bright lights searing through my eyelids. Groaning, I remembered I couldn’t get hungover. 

I shifted, trying to prop myself up on my elbows without opening my eyes to the horrific fluorescents above me. Like a knife in my gut, memories rushed back to me. 

Him. Rage. Darkness. Nothing. 

Shit. 

I knew this was a possibility, but I’d hoped against hope that it was just a fearful thought. It had been decades since I’d seen him, and those weren’t exactly stress-free circumstances. I’d thought that after so much time, after being away from HYDRA…but I was wrong. Everything they did to me was still very much present. The instincts they’d drilled into me took precedent even over my own thoughts and desires. 

The second thing I felt was a shocking amount of mobility around my arms. My eyes flew open. I was in a hospital bed, still in my workout clothes. My shoes had been tossed to the side of the room. The walls were light gray, sleek. Slightly less sterile-feeling than the average hospital, but still made my skin crawl. I was alone in the room, but I could hear the murmur of voices just outside the door. My heart was pounding in my ears and reflected by the erratic beeping of the monitor to my left. I looked down to see a few wires protruding from the collar of my shirt. 

With a whoosh, the door slid open to reveal a small crowd. I recognized Natasha and Steve, someone I recognized as Tony Stark standing a few feet behind them with another dark haired man. 

Nat stepped into the room, a smile on her face but her whole body tense. “How you feeling, hot stuff?” 

“Where are the restraints?” I set my jaw, staring at my hands. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I just proved I can’t be trusted, can’t control myself,” My voice was low. “I attacked one of you. I should be restrained.” 

Steve looked at the ground, eyes clouded. Tony looked up from the tablet he was holding, observing the room. It was the man next to him who spoke first. 

“I know a thing or two about not being able to control yourself, trust yourself.” He was a little skittish, but seemed genuine. “You’re in more captivity in your head than you are here. We aren’t in the business of keeping prisoners. You won’t be restrained as long as you’re fighting something that you didn’t ask to have done to you.” 

I lifted my eyes to look at him, giving him a slight nod of thanks. 

“Touchy-feely stuff aside - I’m Tony, by the way - I do think we should work out where this is coming from.” He stepped forward and plopped down on the edge of my bed, surprising me with his casual attitude. “I assume you don’t exactly have the warm fuzzies towards labs or doctors, but I promise that Dr. Banner and I aren’t here to do anything but help.” Tony gestured to the man I didn’t know, who nodded. 

I looked at Natasha for reassurance before responding. “What do you mean…help?” 

“Well, to be frank, there’s clearly something different about you.” Tony laid the tablet on his lap and looked straight at me. “We just don’t know the specifics. Without that, we can’t do much except throw you into a chokehold when you get a little murderous on us.”

“Tony,” Natasha warned. 

“What he’s saying is that we can…investigate. We can work with you to figure out what was done to cause that episode you had, and hopefully prevent it from happening in the future.” The man, Dr. Banner, explained. 

“Is that even possible?” 

This time, it was Steve who answered me. “It was with Bucky.” I snapped my eyes to him. “He had a similar…he struggled at first too. For him, it was trigger words. They were programmed into him, anytime he heard them he would lose himself until we could-”

“Until we could knock him out.” Natasha cut him off, speaking matter-of-factly. I appreciated the lack of sugar coating. 

“But…you were able to fix him? Stop the words from having an effect?” I tried to stop the hope snaking its way into my heart, anything to push back against the fear of my own lack of control. 

“Yes.” Steve smiled. “He hasn’t had an episode in years. Any anger he feels now is totally under his own volition.” 

I nodded slowly, thinking through my options. I couldn’t exactly say no, keep living here for free, and run the risk of attacking another one of their friends.

“When can we start?” I grit my teeth and looked at Tony and Dr. Banner, who glanced at each other. 

“We can, if you’re up for it, we can start today?” Dr. Banner shrugged. 

“As soon as possible. Please.” 

_____________

“Call me Bruce, seriously.” He smiled, handing me a cup of water that I graciously chugged. 

We’d been working for the past twelve hours, according to the last time I saw the clock. The day had come and gone, judging by the sun beam peaking around the window shade in my room that had slowly given way to night. It wasn’t like I had anywhere else to be, and I could tell that Tony and Dr. Ban-Bruce weren’t the type to put a project down when they hadn’t had a breakthrough yet. 

 First, we did the standard labs. Blood work, blood pressure, retinal scans. Then a few more in-depth tests, an MRI and a CAT scan to give them a better look at what was happening inside me. 

Right now, I was hooked up to a machine that mapped out my brain in a three-dimensional, floating model in front of us. I sat on the edge of the bed, legs dangling. Electrodes were stuck to my head, neck, and chest, wires going every which way. Natasha had lent me a hair tie to secure my hair in a loose bun on top of my head, making it easier to decorate me with the sensors. After a few hours, Natasha and Steve had left to go eat. It was slow work, admittedly. A few empty coffee cups were strewn across the side table in my room, one having toppled on the floor as a result of Bruce not-so-gently setting it down. 

“How about this one?” Tony clicked a button and brought up a hologram of James Barnes, three dimensional in front of me. He was in full armor and mask, holding a hefty gun and looking around for someone. His eyes were cold, distant. His hair was longer then than it was when I saw him out by the lake. Now, it was long enough to tuck behind his ears but not nearly down to his shoulders like this rendering showed.

“Nope. Nothing.” The model of my brain showed nothing beyond the standard yellow flecks of electricity as I spoke, watching the hologram stalk around the room. 

“Well, kid, I think there’s only one thing left for us to try.” He sighed, clicking the hologram off. “Clearly, the reaction you’re having isn’t strictly visual. It has to do with Barnes, but we can rule out the trigger being anything electronic. We’ve tried photos, videos, audio recordings, and now holograms, nothing. It’s not causing you to go all haywire.” 

“What’s the next step?” I asked cautiously. 

“The next step would be live-stimulus monitoring…we’d-”

Tony cut Bruce off. “We’d bring Barnes in here and see how you react.” 

“I don’t-” 

“Before you say no,” Bruce interrupted, holding his hand out. “We would take precautions. We can restrain you if you prefer, but we don’t have to. We can give you an IV with a fast-acting sedative at the ready. We’ll be prepared if you have an…adverse reaction.” 

I swallowed, my heart already speeding up. “If you say so.” I was shocked at how calm I’d been able to stay this whole time. The kindness of the team combined with my paralyzing fear of having another episode allowed me to shove my anxiety down, at least for the time being. My desire to be free of these mental shackles overpowered my deep-seated fear of being experimented on, prodded and poked. 

After we’d discussed what precautions I was comfortable with (and the answer was all of them, please) they left me alone in the room with a soft-spoken female lab tech. I’d stripped off my jacket so she could start my IV, forcing myself to think of anything else to avoid the wave of anxiety that came from needles and nurses and everything in between. When it was done and taped down to my arm, she smiled and slid the doors back open. Bruce explained to me what they were looking for in my brain waves and how it would help them figure out what the issue was, but he sounded a million miles away. I was already getting hot, nervous. No one expects being brainwashed and conditioned to kill to be so embarassing. The shame from my earlier episode still sat heavily in my gut, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for two more people to witness my lack of control. 

“Ms. Rossi? Are you ready?” The tech spoke gently, positioned by my wrist with heavy-duty restraints sitting open. I nodded and allowed her to set my arm inside and fasten the straps tightly. Once my left arm was all but immobile, strapped to my side, she scurried over to the right side. 

When my arms were pinned to the bed, flat at my sides, the tech was poised in the corner with her hand over the button to release the sedative into my veins, I took a shaky, deep breath. 

“I’m ready.” 

Bruce nodded and tapped his tablet. I heard footsteps coming from down the hall, a few sets. I matched the cadence in my head, determining one set to be Steve’s and one Tony’s. That left the third as the other half to our little experiment. Two sets of footsteps trailed off, hovering a few feet away, out of view. The third set, slow and methodical, approached the opening to my room. 

“Come on in, Sergeant Barnes.” Bruce called, eyes flicking from me to the doorway to the model of my brain. 

In two heavy steps, he turned the corner and came into view. James, Sergeant Barnes, whatever he went by - stood right in front of me. His lip was split, eye already beginning to yellow around the outside as a result of his accelerated healing. His dark hair was tucked behind his ears. Regarding me warily, he took another step in the room. 

I sucked in a breath, trying to resist the inevitable but knowing it was necessary for the research. A white hot pain seared through my head, making me cry out. When I opened my eyes, I saw James wincing. 

He must remember this. 

For a moment, that sobering thought helped keep the rage from overtaking me. I spoke through clenched teeth, keenly aware of the adrenaline coursing through me. 

“I’m…so…sorry,” I forced myself to meet his eyes, resisting the blackout so hard that I felt a blood vessel burst in my right eye. The last thing I saw before I succumbed to the darkness was a pair of sad blue eyes on mine. 

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“I’m…so…sorry,” Charlotte ground out, eyes locked on Bucky. A few strands of her dark hair were stuck to her forehead, coated with sweat as she fought the brainwashing. When she couldn’t stand it any longer, her eyes hardened. The straining on her face relaxed as she somehow shifted to something inhuman, something predatory. 

A low growl rose in her throat as she attempted to lunge at Bucky, thrashing at the restraints. Her back arched and the force of her effort rocked the entire bed.

“Administer the sedative,” Bruce commanded. “Now!” 

The lab tech nodded, pressing her thumb down on the button, releasing the drip into Charlotte’s IV. In the forty seconds that had elapsed between when Bucky stepped into the room and when the sedative sent her into a slump against the bed, Charlotte had already yanked so hard on her restraints that she’d made her wrists raw. There was a brief moment of silence after she went limp, all of them taking a moment to collect themselves. 

“You okay?” Steve stepped around the corner, putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. 

“Fine.” His jaw was clenched, less out of fear for the attempted attack but because he so vividly remembered the inability to trust his own mind, to act out of his own control. “That help?”

“I’d say so.” Tony looked incredulous as he raised a hand and turned the hologram in the air. What was formerly a mild, golden glow had shifted to a bright, intense red woven throughout the model. 

“This is…insane.” Bruce was slightly open-mouthed, observing as Tony moved the rendering. 

“What does this mean? Is this what you expected?” Steve frowned. 

“What it looks like, I mean, initially…there’s some kind of conditioning at play here. Whether it’s optical or olfactory…something about Bucky’s physical presence invokes this extreme, visceral reaction. It literally changes her brain chemistry, rewrites her neural passages. You can see that all the areas that fire when she’s functioning normally, when she’s thinking or feeling something physical, or experiencing an emotion…all those are dormant.”

Steve and Bucky exchanged a glance, both of their brows furrowed. Crossing his arms across his chest, Steve opened his mouth to speak before Tony cut him off. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, I’m no neuroscience expert, unless you count the fifteen minutes of internet research I did roughly six hours ago,” He ran a hand along his jawline. “But it sounds like you’re saying they conditioned, programmed her to override all sense of self, consequence, and pain in order to stick to their…objective.” 

Bruce nodded grimly. “It’s similar to what different countries did to soldiers in wars throughout history…give them drugs that suppress their decision making skills, inhibit their ability to feel pain. It allowed them to fight longer and often, fight through otherwise debilitating injuries or fatigue. That, combined with the right propaganda or indoctrination, can make an individual follow orders almost blindly…and definitely to their own detriment. Whatever HYDRA did to her, they took that concept and put it on a 10x multiplier. Plus, it’s not dependent on her continually receiving some drug. They literally programmed this into her.” 

Bucky let out a deep breath, stepping out of the room and looking up at the ceiling. Watching his friend, Steve couldn’t decide what to ask first. Luckily, Natasha chose that moment to make her re-entrance. 

“So what do we do now?” she crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. 

“Nice of you to join us, Romanoff. Conveniently after any and all risk has subsided.” Tony raised his eyebrows. 

“I figured surely two super soldiers, Iron Man and the Hulk had it covered. Plus, if that failed, you have Maddie.” She winked at the lab tech, still standing nervously in the corner. 

“To answer your question,” Bruce interrupted, making rapid notes on his laptop. “I think we can fix it, relatively painlessly. Well…easily. Basically, we need to narrow down if the trigger is happening due to something visual or olfactory, her sense of smell. My guess, based on the fact that there was no effect from video footage or even holograms, is that it’s olfactory.” 

“And if that’s the case?” Steve was still frowning, watching as Bucky slowly made his way back to the group. 

“We would need to sever the olfactory nerve.” Bruce grimaced. “That’s why I wouldn’t say it’s entirely…painless. But it should be quick and effective.” 

A groan from the bed interrupted them. All heads snapped to see Charlotte beginning to stir for the second time that day. Instinctively, Steve grabbed the sleeve of Bucky’s jacket and yanked him towards the door. They’d made it to the end of the hall before she’d even taken her second breath. 

“D’work?” She slurred, eyelids heavy but fighting to open. 

“It did.” Nat sat down on the edge of the bed, putting a hand on Charlotte’s leg. “You did great.” 

“How do you feel?” Bruce gestured to the lab tech to remove the restraints and they both set to work freeing her wrists. A band of raw skin circled her arms where she’d fought so violently. As soon as the restraints were set to the side, Maddie scurried out to get a bottle of ointment and q-tips to medicate the wounds. 

“Never better,” She raised a hand to rub her temples, stopping when she felt all the wires still attached. Bruce nodded at Natasha and they both began gently tugging the electrodes from her face and chest.

“I think we got what we need. It’s been a long day, why don’t we stop for today and pick up in the morning. You should get some rest.” He smiled gently.

“Good call, Banner.” Tony stood, turning to Charlotte. “If you want, just this once, I’ll let you raid my personal snack stash. That’s where all the really good stuff is kept.” 

She chuckled, leaning back. “Mmm, take a rain check. I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

“We used a pretty heavy dose on the sedative…even with your heightened metabolism, it’ll take a bit for it to completely leave your system.” Bruce’s eyes were apologetic. 

“Better safe than…” She waved her hand, a yawn cutting her off. 

“Alright boys, beat it.” Natasha stood. “Char, I’ll be back first thing in the morning with a breakfast spread like you wouldn’t believe. Sleep it off, it’s late anyways.” 

Charlotte smiled lazily as her lids began to droop again. “S’a plan.”

“Sweet dreams, kiddo.” Tony’s voice was the last thing she heard before drifting back off to sleep. 

[honeypipin]

Atlas

---------------------------------

---------------------------------

(Part twooo, wooowowoooowoooo)

Disclaimer: König felt a bit cheeky today, he mayyyy be watching you, he mayyyy be thinking pervy things (you were too, equality 🙌), he mayyyy be desperate for you, how couldn't he? You're perfect for eachother 🫶🫶

---------------------------------

Watch

Watching the news every morning becomes a necessary part of your routine. Vicki doodles on her paper, and you listen to the ever expanding list of cryptids.

"Look! Look! Do you like my flowers?"

"Of course I do, Vicki, they're beautiful."

Your smile is parried with a gleaming grin from the little girl, and she gets to work on a new drawing, just for you.

"A new crytid has been reported to access mobile phones by the name of Atlas, if you receive any messages, do not respond. Block, report, and isolate the device for at least 24 hours."

Oh shit.

"17 dead, and 24 suffering near fatal burns and injuries, please exercise caution when dealing with these."

Oh...

Wait, what?

-----------------------------------------------------------------

2 days ago:

A chime rang out from your phone, you picked it up and read the message.

Unknown: Hello

You: Hello?

Unknown: Give me something close to your heart

You: what?

They didn't respond. So you put the phone down and turned around, you still had laundry to put away.

A weird... hand? Tentacle? Something. Something wrapped around your throat and lifted you up, you grabbed and scratched and tugged but it wouldn't let you go, no matter what you did, it felt like it just got tighter.

"Please- please- stop! STOP! Let- *cough* let me go!"

The thing pulled the phone close to your face.

Give me something close to your heart.

Something close to your heart???

"WAIT! I'll give it! Just let me go!"

The black tendril uncurled itself around your throat and presented itself in front of you. It flattened the top part of itself like it was waiting for you to give it something.

Now, what does it mean close to your heart? Did it mean metaphorically or physically? Well, you could only think of one thing that could fit both.

It seemed stunned when you handed it your bra, was that a good thing or not? You didn't know for sure, but the way it slinked into the shadows, and with your favourite bra disappearing into the wall, you probably did the right thing. Right?

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Well, considering you were still alive, you probably did do the right thing. Vicki showed you the brilliant portrait she drew of you, which you rightfully applauded her for, until you were both interrupted by a knock at the door.

To your surprise and delight, a certain Austrian greeted you once you opened the door.

"Hallo."

"Fredrick! Hello! What's got you knocking at my door?"

"I wanted to return the plate you gave me, and the fork"

"Oh, thanks, what did you think of it?" You took the cleaned plate and fork from his hands.

"Delicious."

A grin you can't help appears on your face.

"Well I am a great cook." Vicki grabs onto your free hand, little fingers barely cover half of your palm.

"Hm? Vicki? Something wrong?"

Vicki stares at Fredrick for a little, then giggles and rushes off, leaving the two of you quite confused.

"...weird, she's usually very talkative..."

"Perhaps she is shy, many children get scared of me."

You chuckled "probably their parents too"

"Probably." His eyes are crinkled to a quarter of its max, so you guess he's smiling, though, again, quite difficult to tell with the mask.

"Are you on lookout again tonight?"

"Not tonight, I will have a few days off so I can start working some day shifts."

"And to buy a new fridge?"

This time, he laughs, "And to buy a new fridge"

"Good."

"Don't forget your bins tonight, ja?"

"Hey! It was a only a few times!"

"A few times too many," he adds, god, you'd love to hear that teasing tone somewhere in your bedroom, or his, or both, you really didn't mind... uh oh, there really was no saving you here, was there?

"Erm, well, I will see you later"

His voice snapped you out of your terrible perversions, and rightfully so. Over an innocent man who literally worked to protect you?! whoops.

"Oh! Yeah, see you later Fredrick!"

You smiled at him, watched him walk away, then closed the door.

This crush was becoming an issue.

(you were totally mesmerized by his back)

-----------------------------------------------------------------

König never really had "good luck" - he often got the short end of the stick, ever since his birth. However, sometimes, Lady Luck gets confused and graces him with something holy.

in this case, Someone holy, to be more specific.

He walks in and locks the door behind him.

He was never one to be open with his loves or obsessions, the most he ever did was buy a T-shirt from a Band he liked when he was 14. He preferred quietly appreciating these things, much less stress involved when learning how to play his favourite songs in his room, than telling his friend said band he liked, and having to refuse to play out of sheer embarrassment... What if he messed up? What if it's so bad they laugh? Or something worse? What if all the attention is forced on him? It was bad enough with his size. He didn't need anymore, that was for sure.

A good thing about being an official part of the military now was the fact that he got to de-stress through shouting at poor idiots who didn't listen to him for the umpteenth time, the recoil of his gun killed the nerves in his hand enough to stop the shaking when he was nervous. Military had done him well, he was forced into the game, and now he's got it.

Except this is a different game.

How was he meant to do this? Sure, you have the kindest eyes he's ever seen, and your smile is the stuff of dreams, and you've never been cruel to him... But what if you reject him? What if you laugh like the others from his youth? Or stand him up like people had done before? Or what if he thought he was lucky for one night, only to wake up the next morning without you next to him, he couldn't let that happen!

So he did the one thing he was always good at, watch.

He grabbed a beer from his fridge and sat down at his computer, switching it back on, your voice filled his ears.

"Vicki, what are you laughing about" he watched the two of you giggle together fondly, you were a great parent for raising her yourself, it made him wonder if you would be the same with his child, if not better - after all you would always have his undying support - would you would coddle them, waiting for him to come home?

He finally looked away to continue his stalking research, sure, he had found your social medias quite easily, but he needed to know more! They were only good for seeing pictures of you, and yes, he did enjoy seeing said pictures of you, and yes, they did fuel many of his fantasies - for example, his favourite - a picture of you at a friend's wedding catching the bouquet, in a dress that certainly caught his eyes (not that you don't catch his eyes (you always do), it's just that in this one he can see your cleavage, and he was very glad to see it respectfully), he couldn't help but think about you excitedly rushing to him about it, and how you would later "convince" him to marry soon (he would totally be on board, does not need convincing, but would let you try anyways) with your sweet, needy voice, and gentle kisses, caresses trailing lower and lower on his body, it would be the rare kind of attention he does like (And he would definitely return the favor later, Schatz, don't you know that he's great with his mouth? He'll make sure you feel so good, you won't even notice he took your panties, you'd be too fucked out to do so! Just enjoy the bath he's running for the two of you! What?Whosaidthat?!).

While the pictures were a great start to his mornings, something else bothered him, he couldn't find anything out about Vicki or his biggest problem, the father. He knew nothing about his greatest competitor, so how could he hope to beat him yet? He had spent hours on his computer searching for anything that helped, only stopping for work, human survival, and to talk to or watch you, and the anything that could help him? It only lead him back to square one. It was terribly frustrating.

He brought his attention back to the camera he had snuck into your kitchen, one of many, of course, and smiled at the sight of you pondering over your work.

Your concentrated face peered at your screen, the glasses you wore began to slip down your nose whilst you were trying to understand the code you were sent, freelance programming would be so, so much easier if people could just format their programs better. If only.

Your " uniform" was even better, some comfy leggings, a tank top and some zip up hoodie, with your neckline exposed - König got a great view of the skin he needed to mark. He could almost swear you were doing this on purpose, wearing clothes like these to rile him up, and it was certainly working.

But it was fine. After all, it wouldn't be long until he could finally do something, you were just giving him a little teaser! The more he thought about it, really, you were just being generous, and how could he complain?

Just a bit more time, and you were finally his.

And if things didn't go to plan... the basement could always work, right?

[kickingitwithkirk]

Restless Man Pt II

Summary: Beau Arlen finds himself in the middle of a case with more twists than a country road.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Reina Cetanwakuwa-Stanley

Word Count: 1681

Warnings: cursing, show level violence, derogatory remarks (some in native languages) poisoning, murder

A/N: The inklings for this started the first time I heard Jensen singing Restless Man. This work is partially from historical information and canon elements from the Big Sky series.

*Set after the series finally 3:13 That Old Feeling.

A/N II: All Native American words/sentences in this part are Lakota resourced from freelang.net and glosbe.com *some algorithmically generated on these sites.

*Translation:  lala -grandfather  Cetanwakuwa -attacking hawk or to hunt and chase

A/N III: Biology isn't my strong suit, so all references likely have errors.

*divider by @firefly-graphics

*no beta -all mistakes are mine

Pt I masterlist

5:30 AM

Arlen pulls into the bank's back park lot and spots Reina sitting on an old pickup’s hood. Parking next to it, he climbs out and with hands on hips snaps, “Why the hell are we here at this ungodly hour?”

“Look who’s running a quart low on civilized this morning.”

“What the hell does that even mean?” 

“It means you’re a grumpy asshole till you get some lead in your system.” Hopping off the hood, Reina hands him a to-go cup, “So fuel up Texas.”  Arlen catches a whiff of the fresh roast bouquet and a far more civilized thank you darling slips past his lips making her eyes roll. 

“And to answer your question being here at the ass-crack of dawn ensures what we're doing doesn’t get out any time soon. Oh, by the way, I flunked charm school so nothing stops me from being an asshole darling.”

***

The bank manager removed their key grumbling as they left. 

“Obviously, not a morning person either,” Arlen commented while pulling the large rectangular box from its cubby and placing it on the table opens its hinged lid revealing an assortment of documents. Picking up the top one he reads the contents. “This is a medical file dated almost eight months ago. Gerald started seeing a Dr. Johnson in Billings who ordered..wow, that’s a boatload of tests.”

Reina began reading over his shoulder, “This doesn’t make sense, Lala Gerald was healthy as a horse for a man his age and preferred the healer over western medicine.” Handing it to her he starts going through the others. “Found the test results. Great, it’s one of those percentages per whatever. Personally, I like the connect the dots ones.” She points to the first results. “These here are chemicals you’d normally find on a working ranch. They’re within the safe margins for exposure.” Arlen was surprised, “You know how to read this?” 

“What? You thought I was only a fabulous derrière?” 

Arlen tilted his head a certain way letting his expression say it all. “Man, you got that dad’s done with your shit look down pat!” He’s still unamused. “Okay, I worked for the mobile vet a few summers, taught me how to do work-ups on the livestock.” Reina goes back to explaining the results then pauses at the end. 

“Huh. These look like medicinals from the healer, but the lab could not identify all the plants used.” She gives Arlen a contemplative look, “You got anything on your plate this morning?”

“Nothing pressing Hoyt can’t handle. Why?” 

“I have an idea where to find out what these could be. Your truck or mine Texas?”

Montana State University

Bozeman 

“Remind me again why we drove all this way?” A tense Arlen dodges another Twalking student in the crowded corridor. “Because these people won’t know me or my family connections like in Helena. Here we are,” Reina opens the door under the Biotechnology Department sign. 

“Dr. Newsom?” The person writing on a whiteboard turns. “Hello, I’m Sheriff Beau Arlen. Dean Wilson said you might be able to help with some toxicology report results.” 

Arlen hands over the file and the doctor skims over the pages, “I take it’s the last one set marked inconclusive you’re inquiring about?” “Yes. My partner here believes they might be compounded from some types of plants?” 

Newsom seemed impressed and wrote out the information on the board then stepped back studying it. “Would you mind if I called in another colleague to consult on this?”

***

Sometime later 

“Everything all right?” Reina inquires when Arlen walks back into the room. “Hoyt was checking in.” Retaking his seat, he hears her mutter, “Some things never change.” 

“What the hell does that mean?”

“That your girlfriend can’t stand not knowing where you are, who you’re with, and when you’ll be back.” 

“Hoyt’s my undersheriff.…” “…from what I hear, under in the literal sense.” “She’s not my girlfriend or significant other so what's your problem with her?” “It’s always been her problem. Never mine.” Newsom's colleague interrupts their terse discussion. 

“Your assumptions were correct. These here,” circling a few abbreviations, “Are used in many medicinal compounds by the local native healers. Unfortunately, we cannot identify what species they come from because we can’t find any record of the source materials.”

“Hypothetical question,” Reina says, “Could their source be something the People purposely choose not to share but still retain knowledge of how to create?” Arlen shoots her a quizzical look.

“Yes, that is a possible hypothetical. We know from early expeditions writings and verbal stories passed on among native inhabitants that much of their knowledge has been lost due to time and habitats, or intentionally hidden due to subjugation and indoctrination.”

Arlen's thumbs' tapping became more intense and thirty miles down the road he suddenly detoured his vehicle, Pedro, onto a dirt track. “Umm, do you know whose road we’re on?”

“Not a damn clue! Call it Bob’s Road.”

“Hope Bob doesn’t take a shot for us trespassing.” Arlen slams on the brakes and cuts the engine before shifting in his seat to glare at her, “What with the wild goose chase?”

“Sorry, I don’t….”

 “Don’t bullshit me Reina! I want you to tell me the truth.”

“I needed confirmation.”

“Conformation of what?”

“That you weren’t in on it!” Arlen was taken aback by her insinuation. “You think I had a hand in Gerald’s death?”

“No, in its cover-up!” She climbs out slamming the door shut emphasizing how pissed she was.  “I don't know if you can be trusted AssButt!” A now equally pissed Arlen copies her.  “That why you pulled a subterfuge ‘bout being a Texas Ranger?” His question makes Reina whirl around as he continues. “I know a lotta Montanans still have this old west mentality regarding the law."

“Don’t turn this to be about me!” Reina yells stalking towards him, not stopping till she invades his personal space. "I know about your partner in Houston so let me ask you something. How'd drowning your guilt and shame in booze and other avenues work out for ya?” Arlen's eyes narrow. “Seems you ended up in the same place as every other motherfucker who takes that route. Leaving a trail of collateral damage in your wake including your family.” Arlen's low growl of Leave them outta this only makes her double down. 

“Your ex remarried some guy and moved three states away with your kid to escape the humiliation! And what did you do? You followed them up here like a dog with its tail,” Arlen surges forward, slamming his hands flat on either side of her head, pinning her against the truck's door. His heart hadn’t pounded this hard since trying his damnedest not to kill Buck Barnes for kidnapping his daughter when Reina did something most would consider not only insane but confused the hell outta him by leaning forward so close he could feel her breath caress his lips as she spoke. 

“I bet you’re weighing your options on whether to sock me or kiss me.” Arlen jerks back with such an incredulous expression it makes her chuckle, “I have that effect on people.” 

“No more bullshit Reina! Did you know what that report would say?”

“Had an inkling you helped confirm.” Reina sagged back against the door. “After I left Montana, Lala and I talked practically every day. I knew something was wrong around six months ago when he suddenly stopped video chatting.” She looked up towards the clear blue sky, “I couldn’t get leave. DPS had just sent me to the Del Rio sector to help track down cartel smugglers. You can’t fathom the shit they’re doing, what’s being covered up by the mainstream media and those fuckers in D.C.”  Reina swiped at her eyes.

“I had a few run-ins with cartel elements which was bad enough.” Arlen placed his hand on her shoulder, “I’m truly sorry you didn’t have the chance to say goodbye.” Reina nodded in gratitude, and he asked in a gentler tone, “Do you have any idea why someone would want to do away with Gerald?”

“Have you heard of the new housing development proposed north of the city?” Arlen acknowledged he has. “Did you know the day lala died, the developers submitted an impact study on expanding that small airport in Silver City?” Arlen looked confused. “Helena already has a good-sized airport...what a minute. Why would a suburb need its own airport? It wouldn’t unless it’s a guise for something bigger.”

“Like something that’ll eventually run from outside Helena’s city limits up to the foothills of the Flathead and Lewis and Clark national forests?” Arlen's brow furrowed, “Okay. Excuse me, I need a map,” he opened the passenger door and glove box retrieved one and moves to the hood. “I’m not really familiar with that area,” Reina reaches over, pointing to a smaller valley snug between the mountain ranges.

“Phase one is here. It’s proposed to expand the airport to accommodate more traffic and have its own charter service catering to the financially privileged.”

“Darling, if there’s one thing I know about people with money, they don’t like to be too far from their modern conveniences.” Reina raised an eyebrow, “Well Darling, the deal includes building a luxury resort which will increase the tax base so much it’ll price the current residents living there out so they’ll end up doing what?”

“Sell to the developers who’ll eventually build residences tailored for their clientele.” Arlen shakes his head in disbelief. “Wait, what’s in Phase Two?” Reina’s voice took on a serious note, “I need you to swear on whatever you hold sacred, you’ll keep this under wraps because I could go to jail for possessing this information.” Arlen holds out his hand, “I give you my word.” She takes his offered hand before pulling out her phone and showing him a picture of a scale model representing the future Helena Valley.

“How far would you go if one man was standing in your way of building the next metropolis?”

tbc

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx  @lyarr24  @flamencodiva  @lassie-bird @nancymcl  @spnbaby-67  @leigh70

Dean/Jensen:  @thoughts-and-funnies  @stoneyggirl2  @akshi8278  @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl

@deans-spinster-witch

[nightowlwriting]

summary: “Alright,” Anders says. There’s noise like he’s adjusting the way he’s standing, or maybe pushing himself up to sit on Perrin’s desk, and then a few heartbeats of silence. “Would it make you feel better if I told you that I want you to hurt me?”

word count: 4.2k

warnings: ss&c, implied/referenced drug addiction, grief, unhealthy coping mechanisms, sex as a coping mechanism, knife mentioned, dom/sub undertones, manhandling

note: perrin is a morally grey character!! he also doesn't know carver is still alive so the loss of his mother (paired with bethany being a grey warden) left him angrier and more prone to acts of violence. he and anders also have a barely healthy relationship with all of the shit between the both of them, but everything that happens in this fic (and future installments) is 100% consensual.

title credit: saintseneca

kinktober masterlist: here

perrin hawke: here

mobile masterlist - request - ao3

Perrin Hawke is alone in his sitting room when the knock on his door comes. It’s late, and he’s already dismissed Sandal and Bodahn to their quarters for rest. Even Lothering doesn’t raise his head, instead huffing and rolling to bask his other side in front of the fire.

“Sure,” Perrin says sarcastically to the hound, “I’ll get the door.” He’s just on the right side of drunk - the room isn’t spinning, nor is his stomach, but that’s not going to be the truth for long. The door is just a temporary distraction from the shit-show that his life has been since the Blight forced his family from their home. It doesn’t matter that Amell House is the family seat he rightfully owns, it’s not home. So he stumbles to the door, footsteps echoing in his silent and empty front room, and tries to right his finery before he opens the door.

Knight-Captain Cullen Rutherford is standing on the other side and for a brief moment Perrin is disappointed. He thought it would have been… Well, the news had to have spread through Hightown to Darktown, and he thought… Actually, Perrin isn’t too sure he wants to see any of his normal companions at the door, especially not any of his mage companions. Regardless, the Knight-Captain isn’t wearing his usual armor and has a bottle of brandy in one hand, looking contrite (for something that he did not do, Perrin notices), and then shrugs. “I heard the news. Figured that you would empty out the wine cellar before you’d be caught in the Hanged Man tonight.”

Perrin doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t really have to. He just looks down on the Knight-Captain and then runs a hand down his face. “Thanks, Cullen,” He eventually says, instead of all the things he wants to say, “But I’m not very good company right now.” And he punctuates the silent and I don’t want anyone to accompany me with a wry smile.

Cullen stutters - because that’s what Cullen does when he’s nervous and Perrin makes him nervous. Everyone knows that his father was an apostate and that his parents sired two mighty warriors who fought at Ostagar and one apostate mage that, until three or so years prior, roamed Kirkwall freely because of the threat that Perrin is. He’s six and a half feet tall and as broad as a barn, which had come in handy doing small labor jobs and mercenary work in Lothering. Saved his life, and Carver’s, at Ostagar. “No, yes,” Cullen says, “I - I understand. I only meant to, well, I only meant to drop this off and leave.” He passes the brandy over and it’s a good brand. He’s almost surprised, but then in a second he takes in Cullen’s appearance: thinner than the week prior (but that might just be that he’s without armor), deep bags underneath his tired eyes, and a light haze over his eyes. Perrin is smart enough to know when a man’s lyrium dose has been upped, again, and knows that Knight-Commander Meredith also pairs that with a pay increase to keep the Templars from straying too far from her orders.

He takes the brandy from Cullen, but it feels wrong. Everything feels wrong, really, so that isn’t a surprise. “Thanks, Cullen,” Perrin finally says, trying for a smile. “You’re right, this might be better than wasting all the fancy wine that’s been aging for years. And I won’t be caught at the Hanged Man. Surely you’d see me on the stocks in the morning if I went.” He laughs to tell Cullen that it’s a joke and Cullen chuckles too, rubbing the back of his neck. There are a few moments of awkward silence, with Cullen shuffling and unable to be still and Perrin standing at his door like a statue.

Once upon a time, he’d thought about pursuing Cullen. The man is handsome, wise beyond his years, and honorable. Perrin hadn’t pursued him because of those last two facts - he couldn’t stand the thought of sullying someone like Cullen Rutherford. Still, they’ve formed a strong friendship just by being two Ferelden men in another country, chased from their homes because of the Blight.

“Well, I should be returning to my chambers,” Cullen nods decisively. He shakes Perrin’s hand and smiles when Perrin claps him on the back.

“Don’t let Meredith take too much from you,” Perrin warns just before Cullen leaves, “She’ll steal your life with that leash if you’re not careful.” He doesn’t stay at the door to see Cullen’s face, instead pressing the heavy wood closed and setting the brandy on one of his console tables as he passes. He’s very careful to act normally as he passes the hearth where a fire had been minutes before and doesn’t look for where Lothering is as he climbs the stairs to his room. The windows leading to his room have all had their curtains drawn and now his bedroom door is slightly open.

Perrin slips an ornate dagger out of a sheath that’s strapped to his thigh. He’s never unarmed, and neither are the other highborns or those who ascended to Hightown. Most Kirkwallers take a note from the Orlesian playbook and never leave themselves truly vulnerable. It’s more for status and image than anything practical, but Perrin isn’t like most people who live in Hightown. He’s more equipped to exist in Darktown, where brawn and brains get you further than money. That’s why when the person hiding behind his bedroom door lunges for him, it’s only a few seconds before he’s wrestled them against the wall, dagger tip pressed dangerously between their ribs, not breaking fabric or skin.

Yet.

Perrin’s chest is bellowing, his teeth bared like a rabid animal’s. He’s almost growling, looking for a fight just to get some of the errant emotions swirling in his chest. It almost doesn’t register that he’s pinning Anders - nearly half a foot shorter than him and much thinner, too - to the wall. The mage doesn’t even flinch but yields to Perrin’s tight hold and the press of the larger man’s body. He smiles softly and says, “Sorry, love, I just wanted to surprise you.” Perrin jerks away, dropping the knife and separating himself.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here,” He finally says, bristling when he turns his back on Anders. It’s not Anders that he has a problem with right now, but magic in general. The wound in his chest, however metaphorical, is still raw and aching. He can taste the magic in the air between them, just like he’d been able to hear the humming of lyrium when Cullen was at his door. Perrin chalks it up to being mage-blooded, especially with how powerful of a mage his father was. Still, the air ripples as Anders walks closer, and Perrin bodily flinches away.

“You shouldn’t be alone,” Anders says, still, knowing that maybe touching Perrin isn’t the best idea right now.

“I shouldn’t be near mages right now,” Perrin bites, striding to his desk if only to put some distance between the cloying taste of magic against his soft palate. He would say more but he risks ruining the burgeoning relationship that they have. He’s already going to have to apologize to Merrill for how he’d turned on her when she’d tried to offer him comfort.

Is it worth it now? Is your precious blood magic worth it? This is what you are. This is who you are. You’re just like him.

It’s unfair, but Merrill knows and has known how Perrin feels about blood magic. He doesn’t mind magic, or mages in general, but blood magic is an entirely different animal. He can’t stand the way it tastes in the air, or how it’s never enough. When he sees the scars on Merrill’s palms or arms, he flinches visibly. After the first time, before the Deep Roads, he’d cried to Bethany and begged her to promise him that she’d never turn to blood magic. She’d sworn on Carver’s grave that she’d never resort to that.

Anders doesn’t say anything because he knows that Perrin is right, but the mage has also never been good at following orders or listening to reason. He’d escaped Kinlock Hold time and time again because of that. He’d been so desperate to get to Kirkwall to find Karl, and instead found Perrin. The hand on his lower back almost physically hurts just as much as the loss of his mother. “I won’t use magic,” Anders says, voice low as he moves around to be in front of Perrin, “I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

And suddenly, Perrin is blindingly angry. Just like the day prior, when he’d lit his mother’s pyre, he can feel the anger burning past white-hot into something more dangerous. His lips curl in a snarl and he shoves Anders back, the blond man catching himself on the ornate desk. He looks shocked, Perrin thinks, and I like it. “And what about what I do want?” He presses close to Anders, jerking him lightly by the front of his robes, “What will you do, then, Anders?” He snarls his lover’s name to make it hurt, but there’s no reaction besides a small smile. Perrin shakes him again just to do something.

“Anything you do want,” Anders supplies, “I trust that if I use the watch-word you’ll stop.” Perrin pushes away, turning his back again, and moves to stand in front of the fireplace.

“And you think that will fix me?” He scoffs, “You think that if I fuck you that I won’t be like this anymore?”

“No,” Anders says without moving from the desk, “I think if you fuck me the way you want to - the way you’re afraid to - that it will give you something to take your frustration out on.” His voice is soft, like Perrin will break with any more force behind the words.

Perrin’s not sure he wouldn’t break, honestly. The anger inside of him darkens and turns into something else - lust that swirls like smoke in his ribcage and leaves him grinding his teeth. “No,” He finally says, “You may trust me, but I shouldn’t be doing anything like that right now.”

“Alright,” Anders says. There’s noise like he’s adjusting the way he’s standing, or maybe pushing himself up to sit on Perrin’s desk, and then a few heartbeats of silence. “Would it make you feel better if I told you that I want you to hurt me?”

Perrin turns around, slowly. His heart is thundering and the fire in his veins is starting to feel good instead of world-ending. His lover is sitting on his desk, all sharp angles and loose hair. It hands around his face and shoulders like a perverted halo as he smiles at Perrin, leaning back on his hands like an invitation. “Why would you want to be hurt?” Perrin asks, unable to help the way his voice drops or his trousers tighten. Anders has always been so good at reading him - he’d be afraid the man was reading his mind if he didn’t know any better. “Who wants that?”

“I do,” Anders answers, instead of rising to the obvious bait, “And I think you want to hurt me.” He adjusts again and begins to peel himself out of the linen shirt he’d worn to Perrin’s home. He doesn’t pressure Perrin to answer or to do anything, simply slowly strips down as he sits on the other’s desk. Perrin stands back to the fire watching as each inch of skin is revealed: scars, freckles, tan lines. He can practically taste his lover’s skin underneath his tongue, feel the resistance of it underneath his teeth.

He’s always hungered for dark things. Not in the way of forcing his partner to do things that they don’t want, but forcing them to do the things they do want. Perrin wants his partner to push back, to be a brat, to force him to use his strength on them. He wants to mark them as his, fuck them so thoroughly that anyone with half a brain will be able to see them and know that they belong to Perrin Hawke.

He wants to own them: body, mind, soul - if only for the hours that they’re in his bed. But how can he say that? How can he tell Anders these things when he’d spent every year of his life past twelve years old subjugated, owned, trapped? How can Perrin admit that he wants to fuck him until he’s crying, until he can’t speak, until he only begs?

And yet: here is Anders completely naked on his desk, cock hard, asking Perrin to do those things to him. To hurt him.

Perrin licks his teeth and drops one hand to his own cock, holding pressure there so that he can try and think. He screws his eyes shut and ignores the part of him that wants to do nothing but take and destroy and struggles to find the part of him that had stepped up and taken on the role of man of the house when his father died. “I shouldn’t.”

“Says who?” Anders snaps, “The Chantry? Fuck the Chantry. I want you to hurt me, Perrin, I want to ache.” He groans and Perrin’s eyes fly open to find him stroking his cock, sat there on Perrin’s desk like he owns it. “I want to feel you burn,” He gasps, pressing on his frenulum and then stroking again, and shudders, “I want be a mess, to be so fucked-out I can’t think about anything. I want you to use me.”

Perrin can feel himself just standing about, mouth open and hand pressed flat on his cock. He knows he should do something - say no, say yes, leap across the room and take Anders every way that he knows how to and some that he doesn’t yet know how to. Instead, he just shudders, squeezing his groin, and groans. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“We already have-” Anders takes a second to writhe, circling his thumb and pointer-finger around the base of his dick to squeeze, “-We already have a watch-word. We’re already two men. How much worse can we get?” He grins, hand not otherwise occupied flexing on his thigh before pressing flat against his abdomen. Perrin watches it move up, up, up until Anders is pinching his nipple so hard it looks painful.

“I won’t be nice,” Perrin finally says, nearly choking on his lust. Anders grins, knowing he’s made his case as he watches Perrin frantically remove his shirt and shoes. He divests himself of his trousers as he crosses the room and doesn’t even go for his dick, despite the fire-warmed air making it twitch. He stops himself just short of Anders, chest heaving and feeling like he’s lost his mind, “I won’t ask for what I want,” He explains, voice rough as he tries to reel himself in. It makes Anders shiver, “I won’t stop if you say no, I won’t stop if you beg, I won’t stop if you fight. I will only stop if you say the watch-word.”

“Yes,” Anders moans, abandoning his futile attempt to not tug himself off before Perrin got his hands on him, “All of that.”

“I will be mean,” Perrin grits his teeth, watching the mesmerizing way Anders’ hand moves on his cock, the way that the head of his dick begins to redden and his thighs begin to shake. “I will do what I want when I want it. I don’t care if you don’t come or if you come too much.” His lover just nods, mouth falling open as he huffs out breaths of pleasure. Perrin watches for a few moments more before he can’t take it anymore. That dark, smoke-like lust in his chest overtakes him and he gives in to it. Anders doesn’t flinch when Perrin lunges at him, only shouts another yes! as he’s manhandled.

Perrin grabs him by the shoulders and twists, tossing Anders off of the desk. He doesn’t care if Anders lands on his feet or arse, just that Perrin towers over him when he’s not sitting on the desk. He grabs Anders by the hair and forces him toward the fire - not a mindless monster by any standards, but he holds the hair in a tight fist. Enough to hurt, but not to harm. When they get close enough and Anders realizes that Perrin isn’t going to stop before his face hits the brick, he catches himself on his hands. It brings a predatory grin to Perrin’s face, who leans in close to his ear. “Good boy,” He growls, “You learn quick.”

“I-I,” Anders manages, gasping when Perrin kicks his feet apart. Perrin mocks his stuttering gasp and grips Anders’s hip. He can’t resist the siren call of the broad expanse of naked skin holding the man by the head and hip affords him, so he leans down and sinks teeth in, drawing a howl from the trapped man. “Yes!”

Perrin jerks him back by the hair and then spins him around. Anders has tears in his eyes and a flush running from the bridge of his nose to the hardness of his cock. He grips at Perrin’s arm to hold himself up and look pathetic. It makes Perrin moan. “Look at you,” He rumbles, leaning down to press their noses together, “Look at how much I’ve already ruined you. I’ve barely touched you.”

“Please,” Anders gasps, trying to lean up to kiss Perrin. He can’t move past the hand holding him still. “Please!”

“Kneel.” Perrin says instead, dropping Anders’ hair and taking a step back. Anders barely catches himself, legs wobbly, and Perrin grins something sharp and feral again. He reaches down to stroke himself slowly, feeling pent up. Anders just stares and watches as Perrin preens and allows it for a moment. And then he snaps his fingers, “I said kneel.” He snarls, baring his teeth as anger chases lust through his veins. It feels good, feels better when Anders tilts his chin up and sneers.

“Make me.” His eyes flash for just a moment and Perrin isn’t sure who’s talking: Anders, Justice, or the fucked-up amalgam of them both that he’s taken to calling Vengeance. He cocks his head, waiting for the light to die down, and then Anders speaks again. “I said: make me.” It’s only then, in that moment where Perrin is sure it’s his lover speaking and not the spirit inside of his lover, that he moves.

“Incorrigible bastard,” Perrin gripes, manhandling Anders back several steps only to throw him off balance. He sweeps a leg behind the other man’s and presses against the back of his knees, all the while pressing down on his shoulders. Anders falls to his knees with a shout and a loud impact, but Perrin doesn’t stop moving. He can’t think past the throbbing of his cock, the memory of muscle and skin beneath his teeth. The sight of Anders on his knees, bite mark bruising on his shoulder, and an agog look on his face nearly makes Perrin spill right then. Instead, he almost gently rubs his thumb over Anders’ bottom lip before his face twists in a grin. Perrin shifts his hand so that his first two fingers are lying where his thumb just was and then he presses.

Perrin laughs almost antagonistically when Anders gags against fingers that are so much longer than his own, tears welling in his amber eyes almost immediately. He doesn’t pull away, or vomit, but closes his lips around Perrin’s fingers and sucks.

It becomes clear to both of them very quickly what move Perrin will make next. He almost doesn’t know he’s moving until his fingers are free from Anders’ mouth and his spit-soaked hand is in the mage’s hair again. “Open your fucking mouth,” He snaps, almost too impatient to do any of the things he wants to do. “I’m going to come down your throat, and you’re going to thank me, and then I’m going to fuck you until you beg me to stop.”

The only thing Anders says, just before his mouth is full of cock, is: “Please, yes, please!”

He’s not a monster, so the first push of Perrin’s dick is slow and steady. He holds Anders by the hair, the other hand steadying his length as he gasps - gasps and watches. It’s almost like a miracle the way that Anders looks on his knees, the way that he squirms and his eyes roll back in his head like he’s feeling the white-hot knife of pleasure that curls around Perrin’s spine. The first few push-pulls are just like that: slow, elaborate, all-consuming. “Maker guide me,” He groans, trying not to fist too hard in the mage’s hair and failing, “Andraste’s Sword of Mercy strike me.”

Perrin loses himself after that. Both hands grip the sides of his lover’s head as he moves faster and harder; he hisses when Anders grips at his thighs, nails leaving crescent marks and red lines. The pleasure burns, chasing away all of the dark thoughts and bad feelings, if only temporarily. He’s gasping for air, unable to decide if he wants to tip his head back and keep his eyes closed as he chases his end or watch as Anders chokes on his cock.

Anders groans, and gags, but doesn’t complain. He doesn’t pull away or pinch Perrin’s thigh - their watch-word for when they have their mouths full. Instead, when Perrin goes back to watching with his mouth open, chin against his chest and ragged groans filling the room, Anders relaxes his throat even more. He catches Perrin’s eyes and - oh, the bastard - he hums.

“Mine,” It slips out unbidden, chased by the roiling pleasure and power that he feels with Anders on his knees, “You’re mine, I don’t care who’s in your head,” He bares his teeth when, for just a moment, Anders holds himself all of the way down, gagging on Perrin’s cock. “Fuck, yes, just like that baby.” Perrin jerks Anders back by the hair, ignoring the way that the mage groans when his mouth loses contact. He holds, for just a moment, and then brings one hand up like he’s going to strike Anders.

“Say the word now,” Perrin warns, “If you don’t want me to slap you.”

“Maker,” Anders gasps, voice ragged through his gasping. He’s still gripping Perrin’s thighs, his own splayed wide as he thrusts at nothing but searches for everything, “Yes, I want it. Hit me, Perrin, please.”

He rears back even more and slaps Anders. The crack of his hand is almost deafening and he sees, for a brief moment, Justice flash to the surface. Anders either wrestles him down or he realizes what’s happening when he sees Perrin standing above him completely naked. Anders gasps when he comes back to himself and his body shudders. Instead of putting his cock back into his lover’s mouth, Perrin takes himself in hand. “No,” Anders whines, “I want - please, I want to swallow you.”

Perrin’s teeth flash in the light when he forces Anders to swallow him down again, focusing less on hurting like Anders had wanted and more on coming like he needs to. It doesn't take long with his cock in the tight, wet, heat of the other man's mouth. Typically Anders has control, chooses the pace, brings Perrin to peak in the way the he wants. Tonight he just lets Perrin chase that high, choking on the dick in his throat.

Only a few moments after the slap - that has left the man's face reddening - Perrin’s hips begin to stutter. He knows he's saying filthy things (I own you, I want you to taste me for weeks, I want to live inside of your body) but he doesn't care. He only cares about the fire in his veins, the way his body is tensing, the right feeling deep in his stomach. He only cares that Anders isn't even reaching for his ass, or his sac, or any of the places that he usually grabs and kneads to help Perrin along. The most Anders can do is keep his grip where it's at and take it.

It's that thought that finally makes Perrin come. Anders is taking it, every dark part of his desires, because he wants to. Perrin isn't forcing him, isn't making him, isn't hurting him in a way that he doesn't like. Anders is willingly taking the rough edges of Perrin, the way that the larger man can use his strength and size to be indomitable - in the bedroom or otherwise. The heat races through his body and he feels himself still with Anders’ nose pressed against him, groaning and writhing as he comes. He feels like he's been struck in the gut, knees weak when he pulls away but then Anders is swallowing - swallowing and smiling up at Perrin like he's gotten exactly what he wanted in the first place. He leans forward and bites Perrin in the thigh, hissing when he gets tugged back by his hair.

“I believe,” Anders says, voice hoarse, “That you promise me more.”

[plasticfangtastic]

Can We Be Lonely Together? Ch. 3

A Homelander X Stalker! Reader fanfic

Sorry if this fic looks super long I don't know how to make it shorter on mobile.

check my blog for prev. chapters.

This is a gender neutral reader fic but is just this author attempt at a crack ship between Homie and Joe Goldberg, obviously. this is a slow burn fic

Sypnosis: We were both mices prentending to be cats? We just didn't expect for things to turn out like this... for you to refus me..to not believe my feelings for you were genuine, you threw awful words at me calling me a psychotic bitch, a stalker... a Liar.

A Liar? after everything I've done for you! For us! After everythign I did to protect you?

You were wrong.

R18+ TW for drug abuse, Domestic abuse mention (this fic will contain some smut and gore in future entrances btw.)

Chapter 3

DIY Incidents.

Smile, nod, don’t question or talk to the upper ranks. 

This was Vought etiquette 101, and here I was fucking that up. 

I wish I could say I went straight home instead of running into CVS to buy the mellowest body spray I could find, something that wouldn’t bother your nostrils, something gentle even my soap now had to be mellow. Our first interaction weighed heavily in my mind, I had an inkling from the look in your eyes, and the alarm bells in your amygdala that we were going to meet soon– on your terms of course. 

So I dressed nicely, I wanted to see just how much I’ve earned of your attention. How much were you willing to give and how– so I wore pretty clothes, did my hair and booked a hairdressers appointment for this afternoon in case you noticed any dead ends, or it wasn’t up your liking– after all my competition was a literal Queen and Nazi pussy. I needed to stand out. Did you want it long? short? bob? buzzed? 

I waited all day.

All day trying to be a decent person and keep my mind away from yours; at least I had a pile of work to distract me at least– after all this department had remained understaffed. All three people hired alongside me had lasted less than a week. Seems Cassandra and Kevin had a knack for firing people. I simply had no presence for them to judge, probably why Deep gave me strange looks from time to time now he regretted not doing that of course.

As the end grew near on the clock above me, I relinquished– my crotch itchy from this lace, I thought you would like what you see… look at me… I wanted you to look at me and grin.

Oh shit!

Anika was louder than usual, her mind a sonata of anxiety and deadline reminders– I lifted my eyes.

Chest puffed, arms tight behind you and your hair slicked back in far more authoritarian fashion than usual, things were slipping under your boots and I guess you needed to scream ‘I’m on top of it’ whatever this thing that needed topping was– I was jealous.

Anika shrank in her seat, feeling her throat expand and shrink simultaneously as you laid your most casual jovial smile, practice made perfect; But Anika no longer could be fooled, you frightened her, you could smell it too, it made you laugh when you flashed your fangs, and her heart skipped a beat.

She was screaming in delight as you passed by her desk, heading towards me. 

The guy nearest to me glad to clock out just now, I straightened my back and made my way into you, seeing myself through your eyes. 

My hair frizzy, shirt creased from slouching, and you could smell my hot chocolate.

Your nose crinkle at the scent, that other you doing quick math to calculate the caloric content of my drink, it was pungent with its sweetness. My hand unconsciously took the cup into my lap, not because I wanted to get it away from you, I wanted it to wash over you, and give you a reason to look at my lap.

“How can I be of service, Mister Gillman?” 

There it was– a twitch on your brow, you weren’t used to this tone, so casual, and friendly. Surprised to hear how calm my heartbeat was. I was sweet, customer service had drilled this voice into my chords, it was easy to do some infiltrating if you knew how to talk.

My supervisor's eyes were the size of Jupiter, her tongue filled with cotton, unable to believe what I had uttered.

I mean that was your name, no? Was I supposed to call you “Homelander”, was that part of our corporate etiquette? I mean I called Roman by his first name. So why did you need to be different?

“Just doing the rounds, I hadn’t had an opportunity to meet the new recruits!”

“It's just little ol’ me left– the rest didn’t survive this death game.”

You had lost your train of thought, between the drink and my words.

“Too sweet?”

“What?”

“The drink?” There I was trying my darndest to get caught– I… I forgot you had… super senses, right? I had a friend in college she was a supe, she hated my drinks'' I laughed, you can’t believe I didn’t have encyclopedic knowledge about you, well sorry so far I had only partially read your wiki entry– its six sugars, whip cream and caramel drizzle on top-- there's a hot choccy simmering somewhere there.”

I turned to my computer, placing the cup down after a long sip guzzling the grainy remains, hands back on my keyboard.

“You were the lost little lamb wondering about last night.” yeah, my cheeks still flushed– quite a nice spot for a corporate spy.”

“Nah I couldn’t even get a job in I.T or Crisis Management.” I’m glad you ignored my snark, and interesting choice– can’t be very good at spying if I got caught”

“You did work for Banvision.”

“Vought has a very comprehensive 401k plan, and if I pass my six month probationary period I might qualify for a discounted Vought Health Insurance plan– that’s a lot I can save on dental.”

That guy still hasn’t left, constantly exchanging looks with Anika asking wordlessly if they needed to get a mop instead of a gurney. 

“What happened to your hand?” my tone grating, so you changed the topic trying to stop yourself from melting my face off.

It had been weeks but my cheeks were still olive, and my hand still bandaged.

“DIY incident.”

“And the face?”

“That’s my ex’s nickname.” Now you calm down– He hates supes, so I thought it would be funny if I got a job here. I love it here, it is probably the nicest place I’ve worked so far, everybody in this department and Mister and Miss Murkovitz are just so welcoming! I feel like I’m doing something good for once.``

“I’m glad… to hear.”

Your posture softens, you assumed men put me on edge, but I still bothered you, I spoke as if i read off a script in your mind. Just to double check you needed to find something off, to ease your concerns.

All your trained had prepared you to control that split second where you lost control of your facial expression, before carving it back to normal– there I was seeing myself grin slyly. 

I crossed my ankle above my knee like a bloke desperate to take extra space in the train, give you a nice peek of this sweet black lace, pressing tightly against my skin, crotchless exposing it all for you, bra cut so low it only really held the idea of support, it was all exposed, beneath this serious facade.

“Well if there’s anything I can do for you, sir… please do let me know, I’ll be more than eager to help, Mister Gillman.” 

The customer service voice took you by surprise, and your gaze diverted to my desk. I came on strong-- It 's not like I was doing it on purpose.

My book, the bent bookmark sticking out from within the first one hundred pages, you stared at it for a solid five seconds.

“Is a waste of time” I tensed, you noticed– the book! I read it is pretty bad.” you mumbled– keep up the good work… eh your name…”

Humoring you with my name, and went back to my computer screen, ignoring you, watching you talk to Homelander about what you just divulged, it was minor but you hoped I wouldn't think too deeply as to why you of all people– was reading YA fantasy. Wondering why I didn’t seem to care if you existed, treating you like any annoying chump in the office.

I stared at that book my whole way home.

And that’s when I knew you weren’t just cute. You let me see something special, I made you want to share– I knew the panties were the right move! 

I had never been so eager to return to work before, so excited and anxious for my phone alarm to go off, I decided I had to do my homework, I got your attention. I was going to milk it. 

But if I had one complaint… is that… you made this needlessly difficult for me, all your social media was filtered through at least five publicists before “you” even pressed ‘post’. All of this was the same carefully constructed persona, that repeated itself without flavor or substance, your Twitter, Facebook, Instagram were all the same so I started digging, finding nothing! You gave me nothing.

Fuming I headed back to the office, it was still around 10 p.m. If anybody caught me I would've just say I’d left something, even bringing my spare phone charger to pretend I left it behind on my desk. 

So here I’m sitting on my office desk past ten navigating this whole building to find you, to find you home drinking a latte, your mind distracted by this terrorist running amok– this wouldn’t do, and before I knew it I was frustrated enough… I needed to know… I needed for you to stop playing coy with me. I hated knowing Roman could be right about anything, looking around the empty room I headed to the bathroom dragging the cable visibly for the cameras to spot, the toilets vacant at this hours.

Roman was a great ex, not awful in bed and always generous to help his whore out for the tough jobs– after seven years he knew this made the jobs go quickly hence why I stole it in the first place. I wasn’t a fan but this wasn’t cheap, it fucked me up, I swore to stay off this crap– yet you were worth it. Growing up I heard of Mindstorm, and dreamed to one day be as well adjusted as him, after all our powers were so similar, but deep down yours truly was a bootleg version– until I took this. Now sitting on the toilet floor I placed a pen in my hand, tying it with tape, my notebook on the toilet lid, placing a handkerchief in between my teeth, sticking my toes apart I pressed the needle watching the compound V color my veins.

Holy fuck.

It was the best…

I could cum just from the first five second rush alone. 

No longer a foggy unexplored map, I saw you in vignettes– You had nothing, no accounts for me to stalk, no secret Voughtify, Twitter, Facebook, Insta, Tiktok, VK, Weibo, Habbo? I'm still unsure how you knew what Habbo was even to this day.  Livejournal, MySpace, Youtube account, Google+, Pinterest, not even a RYM or Pornhub account… Jesus– I was starting to scrape the bottom of this barrel with neopets (actually you did have one but you forgot the password so it wasn’t useful to me right in that instant!), or something like NHentai, Grindr…bumble…how did you live!?… but Homie you didn’t even have a fucking Tumblr! (of your own) you… you had nothing… and then it hit me… my book… I mean… could it be? Obviously you didn’t have a wattpad or fanfiction.net account, I was praying for an Ao3… even some weird Lit forum– I mean nice that you lurked the Chans to trash talk books.

Out of all the places you could’ve played pretend in… Goodreads? not even VReads? Not even your own company’s knockoff!? But my hand already took note of your username and password while seeing your home as you gave me this private room,  heading upstairs to bury yourself on a small leather couch to sit down to read, it took me a second… you had… taste. From my wrongful assumptions I had pen you for a lover of classical Americana, cowboys and fifty’s pulp, classics made by men not even giving Bronte or Austen a chance, so I was surprise you were enjoying House of Leaves… that was unexpected, the fact you read at all was a surprise, the massive library around you had all sorts, from bargain bin trash to classical first editions, even sneak peaks at manuscripts before they had even hit the printers as if you were Miranda Priestly-- all for you. Books of every genre, plenty worn down and some untouched.

Standing up, I could clean the blood off my upper lip happily. 

I packed my mess, ripping the tape off my hand cursing as my fingers ached from my wound.

It has been too long… each step lighter than before, everyone's mind now on the forefront.

“Help…” that’s all I could ask.

My mind was being assaulted by screaming babies experiencing discomfort for the first time, The rest of the Seven’s nervous racketeering, from the security guards on edge, the poor overworked folks in Crisis Management and Special Services, with an honorable mention to the lab rats below– somehow I stumbled upwards, light headed and blood trickling down my mouth.

I took the needle and threw it down the toilet, fumbling my way out of the bathroom.

Louder. louder. fuck I was going deaf. I could hurl all the blood out my body, I had taken too much, it should have been half of that.

“Someone… he…help me.”

This… this batch had been adulterated… somebody messed with this shit. Roman… I though.

Too many people talking, thinking, their childhood traumas playing without permission… oh that bitch… she fucking hates you, her hexes and curses distract me enough as I collapse in the ground.

“Homelander…” stop talking shit about Homelander was the last thing on my mind.

I don’t remember anything other than feeling something pressing against my sides. 

But even in this state I couldn’t sleep, woken up by the sounds of your neighbors and staff, but you seemed quiet, your mind picturing the purple passages in vibrant colors.

“Sorry for the inconvenience.” Your couch isn’t exactly comfortable but the fur blanket does compensate for it– what… what time is it?”

“Past 1 a.m. What were you doing here again? spying?”

“Left my charger at my desk.” I said weakly barely getting upwards– I am so sorry, sir.”

“What did you take? Meth?”

“Heroin… bought the cheap shit… seems it wasn’t a good idea changing plugs.”

“So honest.”

“I hate liars. it's insulting” People lied to me all the time but by now I’ve grown jaded of people, you did too– am I fired?”

You could tell I was being genuine, you put your book down for a moment standing up to hand me my purse minus my handkerchief, studying my barely put together attire finding I was bare under it... like you.

“No. but I can’t let you leave either.”

“So a meeting with HR then…”

“Nothing like that, silly. You were bleeding quite a bit, rest then head home tomorrow morning.”

“Shouldn’t I head to the hospital?”

“I had someone check you up downstairs before I brought you here”

You slid towards me placing your nude finger on a loose hair strand, twirling it, watching me with those baby blues.

“Rest. We can talk about this in the morning.”

“You’re most kind John… I meant Homelander.” 

I will admit I was exhausted, my head was throbbing and even talking to you was draining, so I slowly drifted back into my slumber watching my head drop near your thigh leaving your hand hovering above me.

“Thank you for being there for me… haven’t… haven’t experience that in a long time”

“experience what?” your voice is low and confused.

“kindness…you’re sweet…”

Homelander watched you counting the seconds in between your breathing. His finger tracing the shape of your cheeks brushing tenderly, a strange smile made home in his face.

Unlike the one he had right now while you told him your story.

[darlenicy]

Okay, so I started season 5 and I won't hide my opinion on it

Episode 5x1

the opening is better than the old one even though it kinda lacks a proper melody

you notice that the target group is getting younger when the episode title is read aloud (at least in the German dub)

the Winx are not presumptuous at all: hA hA wE aRe ThE wInX! we're so great, hahaha look at us. we're giving a concert because we are SO GREAT! 😌

yes, only with blooms (!!!) help Roxy became who she is. It was ONLY Bloom, NO OTHER Winx 🙄

I always walk around in high heels on the beach too, cool girls.

Yes. It's totally your job to take care of the oil rig

sky wants to get engaged for the 10,000th time. seems like this is a cursed situation, boy. better go to icy

ohhh poor Layla. everyone be like: What's Up, LAYLA? And she is like: not that I lost my fiance some episodes ago?? Gotta smile ofc. TBH if this was Bloom losing Sky she would be crying all day long and every other Winx would comfort her. But Layla? NOPE

where is messy hair bloom? she looks so not like Bloom TM when her hair is not messy

bloom: where is layla?😌😌 - me: layla FKN cries. what do you think bloom???

tressa has a mobile phone underwater ofc

and to understand that right: Layla and the mermaids are related.....how? was either Neptune or Ligea human before? or was Layla's mom or dad a mermaid before? and how do mermaids even procreate? i wanna knowwww

musa: one of the twins in particular looks good, ➡ yes, of course they look completely different, it's not that they are twins

layla noo🤣: tritannus is a bit psycho! how mean 🤣

the palace is not inspired by Ariel at all ⬇

why are you surprised that tritannus is evil when you al treat him like shit?

➡ not tritannus becoming ma boi - it's because he is poor boi treated unfair! (i never thought i'd say that but poor tritannus like rly)

why does everyone always become king even though the old king is still alive? first sky, now nereus. magix, explain that to me

I'm kind of for tritannus, he's treated so unfairly

now is the perfect moment sky - and he fails. go get a better girlfriend, boy

Nickelodeon thinks all the fairies have to say their element because the viewers are so young now and don't know

➡ however I like how the German dub made Stella say: Stella - Fairy of the Sun and Moon - that moment when the dubs care more about continuity than the actual company 🤦‍♀️ but I have to say Flora's german saying: Flora - fairy of nature AND PLANTS is kinda silly. not so that nature includes plants

props to the specialists for that quick change of clothes

sky proving again: he's useless

the moment when in one episode happens more than in a whole season ➡ looking at you s4

ewwwww I thought I'd be more okay with the voice actor switch (still German dub) but Stormy.... I can only hear Katara and that is just not right. Another atla voice is icy's new one (Mai) and i am more okay with that...and I understand that the old ones might not have wanted to do this kindergarten again but...but Vera (old icy) and Samia (old stormy) my queeeeens why did you let julia (always darcy) alone??? 😭

okay but the glances of icy and tritannus were kinda cute I HAVE TO ADMIT THAT (gotta gif that)

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