#danger days saved me during my road trips

[thxnks4themrms]

Getting older is going on drives and looking out the window and listening to music to matter how boring the scenery is

[robo-writing]

NSFW Alphabet - Clive Rosfield Edition

Pairing: Clive Rosfield/Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+, minors DNI

Author’s Note: Might've gone overboard, this ended up being 2.7k words!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Clive makes it his personal mission to make you as comfortable as possible both during and after sex. His arms become your own personal cocoon, kissing your forehead as he cradles you closer. “I didn’t hurt you did I?” Clive asks, checking over you once, twice, before you have to stop him with a hand to his chest. “I’m fine, really, you didn’t do anything that I wasn’t actively encouraging.” You lay a kiss to the hand resting on your cheek, enjoying the smile that blooms on his face. “Are you sure?” He studies your nude body concerned, lightly rubbing the indents where his hands gripped you. You nod. “I’m sure. Now come, lay with me.”

“As you wish.” He answers, moving to hold you close.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

It might sound cheesy but he genuinely enjoys watching you smile, it brightens his day like nothing else. For him, it’s his arms, because you get so giddy when he lifts you for a hug, legs dangling in the air. The two of you are walking side by side through a meadow, a rare day of peace where Clive can simply enjoy being in the moment with you. You had insisted on a break, and now that he’s here he feels a sense of calm wash over him. Your stumbling form brings him out of his head, moving quickly to catch you before you fall. “Are you alright?” You both look down, a huff of annoyance escaping you. “Just tripped over some rocks, I’ll be fine.” A closer look and the road ahead is a bit uneven. He couldn’t risk you falling and hurting yourself, so his next course of action was obvious.

Within seconds you find yourself lifted bridal-style in his arms, holding onto his tunic in shock. “What—Clive?” Your legs dangle in the air, secured by strong arms beneath you. You look at him, waiting. His tone is genuine, but the pleased smirk he wears tells another tale. “I can’t have my lady walking in such dangerous conditions, what kind of man would I be?” You raise an eyebrow in knowing, aware that he just wanted an excuse to hold you. “You could’ve just asked me, you know.” He nods in agreement. “Yes, I could have. But this is more fun.”

You feel yourself laugh in his arms as he walks, an ever-present smile on his face.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He loves the sight of his cum dripping from you, but equally hates the smug look Tarja gives him when he asks for some medicine the day after. He’ll settle for finishing on your stomach to save himself the embarrassment but if you want to watch every thought exit his brain ask him to come inside you, he’ll never say no.

“My love,” he grunts, the scruff of his beard tickling your neck. He’s pushed himself as far as he can go, unwilling to separate for a second. “Tell me to stop, please—“

His movements are uncoordinated, single-minded in their attempt to bring you pleasure. You can barely hear him past the sound of your own moans, but your legs bring him closer either way. “Don’t, stay, please—“

Something snaps in his brain, his thrusts move even faster, a hand on your hip to keep you steady as his hips cant deliciously into yours. “Founder help me, you feel so good, fuck—!”

He cries your name as he stumbles off the edge, a violent shudder moving through his body. When he finally gathers himself he looks down at you through lidded eyes, a dopey grin stretched across your face.

“A smile like that means I must have done well.” He breathes, shallow and ragged. He watches his seed spill from you captivated, a single finger moving to spread you apart and watch more of him drip from you.

Tarja be damned, this was worth it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Wants to be submissive to you, wants to just lay back and take whatever you have to give, but the poor boy doesn’t know how to express it. It might have to take some detective work from you, but if you ever figure it out he’s putty in your hands.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He had no previous lovers besides you, but he isn’t totally oblivious, trust me when I say he’s eager to learn.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Good ol’ missionary, also enjoys doggystyle. Something about the sound of you screaming his name into the pillow drives him wild.

Muffled noises leave your lips, a beautiful song of his name harmonizing perfectly with the sound of his hips meeting yours. You’re pressed perfectly beneath him, arched just the way he likes it, a hand running down your back appreciatively.

He finds himself grinning at another whine of his name, fully draping himself over you. His lips meet your ear as the force of his thrusts increases, legs shaking in an attempt to keep up with his brutal pace.

“Just like that my love, you’re doing so well.”

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

To him, having sex is his way of showing his love for you, and he’s very serious about that. He’ll crack a smile or two, but if you joke around too much he’ll probably look at you confused before starting again, making sure that this time you’re too preoccupied to try.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He does keep himself trimmed regularly, a habit from his days as a former royal. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Having sex with Clive is a declaration of his love to you, every action speaks to you in a profound way that extends beyond just pleasure. There's something so affectionate about being with Clive, every action fulfilling a need you were never aware of. His touch, a declaration of his love, his words devout.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Moderate sex drive, doesn’t really jerk off and if the urge does rise, he’d rather just go to you. On the off-chance he does partake it’s very quick, driving himself to pleasure as fast as possible with a hand on his mouth to silence himself.

You had left early in the morning while he was still asleep and when he woke up he found himself missing you, which then evolved into him missing your body, how soft it was under his hands, how it moved for him as he explored it. Further and further did his imagination take him under his fingers squeezed at his hardening cock, a sigh leaving him as he freed himself from his nightwear. 

He wanted to take his time but the thought of you made him frantic, hand moving faster and faster against his length. Just when he felt that blinding sensation build up in his core the door opened abruptly, the shock causing him to halt in fear before he realized it was you who walked in.

A look of shock, then of lust passed through your face. “Of all the things I expected to find, this was not on the list.”

Clive moves to apologize, reaching for a blanket to cover himself before he’s stopped by your hands at his wrist. 

You eye him up and down, pulling the blanket further away as you sit at his side, lips kissing softly at his neck. He’s confused, hesitant to move from his spot.

“My love?” He asks, looking up and down at you. His cock is still throbbing with need, even more so now that you’re touching him, breath hitched when your fingers trace against his length.

You whisper into his skin, breathy. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here before, but I’m here now. Let me take care of you.”

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise kink - He’s always complimenting you one way or another, whether that’s on the battlefield or in the bedroom.

Body Worship - Truly believes you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and he makes you feel like it too. If you’re insecure about anything, he’s going to make it his personal goal to show you how perfect you are.

Frottage - Sometimes the two of you are so eager that you can’t be bothered to take your clothes off. At times like this he’s content to watch you fall apart on his lap, only to have his hips stutter when your fingers press against his clothed erection. 

Size Difference - He can’t help the pride that swells in him when you can’t reach something and have to ask him for help, it makes him feel needed. He also can’t help how his dick throbs when you struggle to take it, the smallest little bump forming against your stomach when he pushes all the way in.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom, or if you’re on the road, a local inn. He prefers sex to be somewhere neither of you can be bothered.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Spending time with you, holding you close. It’s not unsurprising to have a hand “innocently” rest under your clothes and if anything else were to happen, well, that’s just a happy accident.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything pain-related, or anything that can draw blood. He doesn’t want to hurt you, so any and all weapons are off the table.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Has a preference for receiving rather than giving, only because the sight of you with his cock in your mouth makes him weak in the knees.

His hands are bundled in the sheets, hunched over, trying his best to control his hips. Your mouth laps at the head of his cock, and when you look up at him doe-eyed he nearly comes right then and there.

You love him when he’s like this, such a strong man reduced to his base form, struggling to contain himself under waves of euphoria. When you lift your mouth away he begs for you to return, only to silence himself when you put his hand in your hair.

“Go on,” you goad, licking a stripe against his length. You don’t miss how his fingers tighten in your locks. 

Your only warning is a groan of your name before he forces you to take every inch he has to give, a sinful grin curling at his lips when he feels you gag.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow, purposefully strokes, enjoys taking his time with you. Might treat you a bit rougher if he’s had a bad day, but he’ll apologize after and give you the best aftercare the world has ever seen.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If he’s short on time, sure, but he much prefers to take his time with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Like before, he isn’t experienced so any risks being taken would most likely be proposed by you. He’s up for trying anything once, so long as it isn’t dangerous.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Former Shield of Rosaria, as well as the Dominant of Ifrit? You’d be lucky if he breaks a sweat.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He probably wouldn’t think about them until you showed him one, all of a sudden a new world has been unlocked to him. This goes back to the dirty secret bit, but he’s also played around with the idea of you using them on him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Likes to tease you, but can never commit to it because the moment you beg him to keep going he’s quick to give you whatever he wants.

He has you encased in his arms, back pressed against his front as his fingers move across your aching sex, so close and yet so far from what you need. 

He laughs at your frustration, keeping your legs held open with one hand while the other makes feather light touches against your exposed folds. He’s enjoying himself, but you’re fit to burst. 

“You look beautiful like this, a pleasure for my eyes only.” He whispers into your ear.

Even when he’s teasing you he’s a romantic, even if you’re ready to cry in dismay.

“Clive, I’m begging you—“ You reach a hand to his wrist, pressing his hand further to touch your clit. “Touch me, please.”

He looks down at your glassy eyes, and his heart tugs at the sight of you so desperate. He obliges without a second thought, enjoying the sound of your moans bouncing off the walls.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not a moaner, but a chatter. Likes to tell you exactly what you do to him as he fucks you.

“Founder, I could spend the rest of my days like this—“

A sharp thrust leaves you keening, a jumbled mess of what would be his name leaving your lips. The sound of his cock entering you is obscene, only made worse by your own voice crying out for him.

“—you, ah, you want that, right? Want me buried inside you until you can’t stand—“

He can barely finish a sentence without moaning, too far gone in the feeling of your wetness clenching around him. You don’t reply, but your body tells all, your back arching off the sheets.

“Ah, I knew you would,“ He hits that spot inside that has you seeing stars, and before you could scream he swallows whatever sound you make with his mouth against yours, sloppy and unrefined. 

When he’s satisfied, he pulls away to admire your supple body laid bare before him. With a growl, he continues. “Don’t worry, I want that too.”

He doesn’t stop moving, not for a second. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Likes to use Ifrit’s flames to keep you warm in the cold winter nights. It’s also an excuse to keep you close.

Even as you sit in front of the fireplace a chill is settling deep into your bones. After the third shudder you find yourself lifted into the air by a familiar pair of arms, enveloping you in a warmth that causes you to relax instantly.

“You didn’t have to Clive,” you murmur, moving closer into him. “The fireplace would have gotten me warm soon enough.”

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Would that have been before or after you turned into a block of ice?”

You smile at the joke, relaxing even further when he presses a kiss into your hair. He places you on the bed, quickly maneuvering himself behind you as a blanket of heat spreads across you.

“Sleep well, my dear. I’ll keep you warm instead.”

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

6 inches, very girthy, needs to work you up a bit before getting anything done, but once you’re nice and prepared you feel so full.

No matter how many times you’ve had sex, Clive always marvels at how tight you are, how small you look beneath him or how wide your eyes get when he rests himself at your entrance. 

The first time you had sex you had told him unsure, “I don’t think it’ll fit.” 

He proved you very wrong that night, as he did every night since. Even now, as your eyes roll back at the delicious stretch he provides, he’ll prove you wrong once more.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Moderate, he's always thinking about you and making sure you're comfortable.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

The moment he’s certain all your needs are met he’s falling asleep alongside you. Will also take some time in the morning just to admire you before he has to leave.

[softquietsteadylove]

Gil gets hurt and Thena takes care of him. We need some soft content hehehe free choice and thanks <3

"You okay?"

Thena blinked. Her vision was fading on her. She looked back at Gil, who was staring at her with those big brown eyes of his. She smiled, moving away from the edge of the loft and leaning over him again. "I should be asking you that. You need to rest."

"I am," he pointed out weakly, moving his eyes around to indicate the thorough incapacitation of his body. They had gotten up the ladder on pure adrenaline. They just needed somewhere off the ground and safe for the night while the herd outside passed, or at least calmed.

The barn doors were holding, thanks to the plank of wood they had secured after all of them holding them with all their strength.

Thena had spread out some hay. They didn't bring much with them--this was supposed to be an easy day trip for supplies. She had laid Gil down, balling up her sweater under his head as the least she could do. "Let me see it."

It wasn't as if he was in a position to stop her. He grunted as she pulled on his good arm to help him sit up, although even that caused his bad shoulder some pain. "You checked it five minutes ago."

"It was not five minutes ago," she argued with him, their voices hushed. Despite the tense silence and the low shuffling of the herd outside, it was quieter in the barn than the sterile, smooth echoes of the hospital. Not that they didn't long to be back there at the moment.

Gil let her unbutton his shirt and look at his shoulder again. He had tried to save one of their own earlier, even letting his arm be pulled out of the socket. But the herd had won, and she had pulled him away before he could be swallowed up too.

The swelling was still prominent. She didn't have anything to help with that, and neither she nor Kingo nor Ikaris were knowledgeable enough to pop it back into place for now. She wondered if they would even be strong enough.

"I've dislocated my shoulder before, y'know."

"Is that so?" she whispered, pulling his shirt away from him as if it would cause the injury to worsen. Already his skin was starting to change colour.

"I was maybe 14?--my dad thought it would be a good idea to make me join wrestling. Thought I was too timid, especially for being kind of a husky kid," Gil continued as she traced the edge of his swelling with her eyes. She didn't dare touch it. "Obviously, I didn't wanna do it."

"Obviously," she added, because of course Gil didn't want to fight his peers as a growing teen, probably just as sweet and shy as he was now.

"So, my first practice I tried to just go limp and play dead, but the other guy was not having it," he chuckled. She watched the shadows of his breathing against the glow of the flashlight. "He ended up popping my shoulder out, he was trying so hard. I was just happy I got to quit the team."

"Gil," she scolded him with a smile. The idea of young teen Gil, shy in a wrestling leotard and just trying to make friends crossed her mind. "I imagine it hurt then, too."

He let out a breath. He was careful about it. He was putting up a good front, but she knew when he was in pain. She had seen it enough during their time on the road. "I guess it did."

She frowned. This wasn't the kind of injury they could disinfect and wrap up. They still had to get him back to the car and then back to the hospital without incident. And this was the open road; it wouldn't be easy to mow a path for them back to the cars from here.

But she could do it.

Gil wheezed as she helped him lie down again. He forgot to pretend he was fine when he was moving, his face twisted in pain. "Bill-"

"Hey," she cut him off. She didn't even remember his name. They had only gone on a run once or twice before. All she had known in the moment was that Gil was in danger. "Don't."

"He's got a girlfriend back at the hospital," Gil whispered to her. He opened his eyes, staring up at the room of the barn.

She moved to lean over his face, brushing his tears away. "I'm afraid it could happen to any of us, out here. We know the risks."

They all had to know the risks. What's-his-name had signed up for supplies duty just like the rest of them had. Ajak didn't assign people roles based on whim.

Thena leaned in, pressing her lips to his forehead. He still wasn't running a fever (good). "We'll tell her together--how hard you tried to save him."

Gil shut his eyes again. There was nothing they could do about it now. "You should get some sleep."

"Hypocrite."

"Really," he wheezed again. "You're not gonna stay up until dawn just because I'm like this. We need you at your best."

Thena looked out over the rest of the barn again. She could just barely make out where Ikaris was leaning up against a pillar, although she couldn't see if he was sleeping or not. Kingo was curled up on a stack of hay, already knocked out from all the effort they exerted.

"Thena, I'm fine."

He was far from fine. He was hurt, and suddenly their days on the road weren't so far away anymore. The sting of peril was hot on their heels again. She could remember holding onto him, willing to pull off his other arm if it meant not letting go. Kingo was the one to pull them both, yanking her backpack to get them both up the hill and towards the barn.

She opened up her bag. She should have packed for the possibility of being stuck out here, regardless. They were getting too comfortable at the hospital--too spoiled. There had to be something she could use to help Gil in some way.

"Thena," Gil sighed as she pulled out a blanket. It was barely a blanket, more some ripped old sheet for acting as a trampoline if they had to drop things from a height and stay quiet. It barely covered from his elbows down to his knees. "Really?"

"I said hush," she muttered, moving on to his bag as well. She dug out the spare shirt he brought.

Gil moved his eyes as he watched her. "It's a nice idea, but I don't know if a summer gingham shirt is gonna offer much warmth."

She made sure to huff at him, pulling it on over her white t-shirt. she didn't bother buttoning it, but she did pull it closed around her. It was big enough to feel like having a blanket around her. "No complaining."

She curled herself up next to his good arm, wrapping her arms around her knees. He was right, she would need to sleep, even if it was nodding off for a few minutes at a time. But she couldn't take her eyes off the opening to the loft. Even after she had worked her absolute hardest to pull the ladder up with her, the thought of seeing something poke a gnarled, nightmarish head up and look at her-

"Thena."

She inhaled sharply. She was falling asleep by the second. Her head tilted and she nearly flinched at the dry, borderline icy look Gil was giving her. "I'm fine."

"I'm not asking you to sleep," he pleaded with her. His good hand moved until he could tug at the shirt of his she was wearing. "Just lie down, please."

She buried her nose in the collar of it. In truth, she was exhausted, and being tired made her feel cold. But more than that, this shirt smelled like Gil, and their room at the hospital. And she needed to feel that, right now.

Thena shifted her weight, lying down next to him, still basically curled in the fetal position.

Gil was most certainly straining his eyes to look at her. But he smiled. "Feels like old times, right?"

Times when she would be unable to sleep because she had something far too precious to protect? Yes, it did feel remarkably like that. It felt like when she watched him sleep the entire night after he got grazed by a bullet, or when she watched him sleep as his fever get worse and worse.

Sometimes she still woke up from that nightmare, unable to stop herself from checking if his forehead was hot.

The thought spooked her again. The next time she fell asleep she probably wouldn't flinch awake after a few seconds again. Gil was lying flat on his back, his eyes closed. His breathing seemed even. She shimmied closer as best she could. Just once more couldn't hurt.

She touched the back of her hand to his forehead; no fever. She leaned up and touched her lips to his cheek; a little scruffy, but warm and living. With that, she could lie down beside him, not resting on him but pressing her forehead to his arm, just to have some contact with him. This was the only way she could rest.

Tomorrow, she could worry about getting Gil home again.

[muhammad-hamza-o7]

Real Stories: How a Dual Lens Camera Saved My Day

In today’s fast-paced world, safety and convenience often go hand in hand, especially on the road. For many drivers, a dual lens camera installed in their car has become a crucial tool for ensuring peace of mind. Whether it's capturing the beauty of a road trip or providing evidence in case of an accident, the hd car mirror cam and rear view mirror camera offer practical benefits that make a significant difference. Here’s a look at real stories where these cameras truly saved the day.

A Road Trip Rescue: How a Rear View Mirror Camera Prevented a Collision

On a long road trip, I was driving on a narrow, winding mountain road. Suddenly, a car swerved into my lane from the opposite direction. Thanks to the rear view mirror camera, I saw the vehicle approaching before it was too late. The camera displayed a clear view of the situation, allowing me to react quickly and avoid a potentially disastrous collision. It was a split-second decision, but the peace of mind that comes from having a camera in place is invaluable when every second counts.

Capturing the Unexpected: A Dash Cam’s Role in Accident Evidence

While driving home from work, I was involved in a fender-bender at a traffic light. The other driver claimed it was my fault, but fortunately, my hd car mirror cam recorded the entire incident. The footage showed that I had stopped completely, and the other driver rear-ended me. Having the video evidence made all the difference when it came to dealing with insurance claims and police reports. The ability to rely on clear, accurate footage from a dual lens camera is a game-changer when it comes to resolving disputes.

A False Claim Exposed with Dual Lens Technology

One of the most frustrating experiences drivers face is dealing with false claims after an accident. I was once in a situation where a pedestrian claimed I had hit him while backing out of a parking space. Fortunately, my rear view mirror camera captured the entire parking lot scene, showing I hadn’t even come close to the pedestrian. The footage was crucial in proving my innocence, and the incident was quickly resolved. It was a relief to have the protection of the dual lens camera, which captured both the front and rear views.

Ensuring Family Safety with a Rear View Mirror Camera

As a parent, one of my biggest concerns when driving is the safety of my family. A rear view mirror camera has given me peace of mind when driving with my children in the car. Not only does it help me navigate tight parking spaces and busy streets, but it also provides an extra layer of security in case of an emergency. Whether it's capturing a hit-and-run or recording a dangerous driver, the rear view mirror camera ensures my family is always protected on the road.

Peace of Mind on Long Drives: The Role of HD Car Mirror Cam

Long-distance driving can be stressful, especially when navigating unfamiliar areas or dealing with unpredictable weather. During one such drive, I encountered a severe rainstorm that made visibility nearly impossible. My hd car mirror cam proved invaluable in maintaining a clear view of the road, thanks to its dual lens design. It offered both front and rear views, allowing me to monitor traffic conditions and avoid dangerous situations even in poor visibility. Having this added layer of security helped me stay calm and focused on the road ahead.

How a Dual Lens Camera Saved Me from a Parking Lot Disaster

Parking lots can be tricky, and I’ve had my share of close calls. One afternoon, as I was reversing out of a tight spot, I nearly hit another vehicle. Thankfully, the hd car mirror cam’s rear-facing camera alerted me to the approaching vehicle, allowing me to stop just in time. The camera’s ability to display real-time footage of both the front and rear of my car gave me an extra set of eyes that helped me navigate the parking lot safely.

Witnessing a Hit-and-Run with My Dual Lens Camera

One evening, I was parked in a quiet neighborhood when I witnessed a hit-and-run accident unfold right in front of me. The driver who caused the accident fled the scene, but fortunately, my rear view mirror camera had recorded the entire incident. The footage helped the police track down the driver and bring them to justice. Without the dual lens camera, the driver might have gotten away, but thanks to the clear footage, the case was resolved quickly and fairly.

Preventing Insurance Fraud with a Rear View Mirror Camera

Insurance fraud is a growing problem, and I’ve had a firsthand experience with it. A few months ago, another driver tried to stage an accident by suddenly slamming on their brakes in front of me. However, my hd car mirror cam recorded the entire event, showing that I was not at fault. The footage was instrumental in proving my innocence and preventing fraudulent claims from affecting my insurance rates. It was a valuable reminder of how crucial it is to have a reliable dual lens camera in place.

The Power of Clarity: How a Dual Lens Camera Captured a Critical Moment

During a night drive, I was almost involved in a crash when another driver ran a red light. Thanks to the superior clarity of my hd car mirror cam, I was able to capture the entire moment, from the other driver’s approach to the point of near-impact. The camera’s high-definition lenses provided clear images, even in low-light conditions, which made all the difference when reporting the incident to the authorities. The ability to rely on clear, detailed footage in such situations is one of the reasons I swear by my dual lens camera.

Avoiding Road Rage with the Help of My Dual Lens Camera

Road rage is an unfortunate reality on today’s roads. I once had a close encounter with an aggressive driver who tailgated me and attempted to block my lane. Fortunately, my rear view mirror camera recorded the entire interaction. The footage showed the other driver’s reckless behavior, which I later shared with the authorities. Having this documentation helped me stay calm and avoid escalating the situation. It also gave me peace of mind, knowing that I had evidence if things had taken a turn for the worse.

A Quick Response to a Car Fire: Dual Lens Camera to the Rescue

While driving on a highway, I witnessed a car fire that started on the vehicle in front of me. Thanks to the rear view mirror camera, I was able to quickly capture the fire and report it to the authorities. The camera’s rear lens provided a wide-angle view, capturing the emergency in full. I was able to stay at a safe distance while alerting other drivers to the danger. The camera proved to be a valuable tool in handling an emergency situation and ensuring everyone’s safety.

A Family Road Trip with Extra Security: How the Dual Lens Camera Made a Difference

When traveling with my family, I rely heavily on my hd car mirror cam for added security. One memorable road trip took us through a remote area with little cell service. We encountered a sudden storm that made driving hazardous. The rear view mirror camera gave us clear, continuous footage of our surroundings, which helped us navigate safely through the storm. The peace of mind it provided during the trip was immeasurable, knowing that I had an extra set of eyes watching out for us.

Protecting Your Car and Your Wallet: The Benefits of a Rear View Mirror Camera

Investing in a rear view mirror camera is more than just a way to protect yourself on the road; it’s also a smart financial decision. After a minor accident where the other driver tried to assign blame, my dual lens camera provided the evidence I needed to clear my name. The footage saved me from having to pay for damages I wasn’t responsible for, ultimately saving me money on insurance and legal fees. With the added protection of a rear view mirror camera, I feel confident behind the wheel every day.

How does a dual lens camera improve safety?

A dual lens camera, such as the hd car mirror cam, enhances safety by providing clear front and rear views of the vehicle. It helps drivers monitor their surroundings more effectively, reducing the risk of accidents. Additionally, the camera records crucial footage that can be used for evidence in case of a collision or dispute.

Is it easy to install a rear view mirror camera?

Installing a rear view mirror camera is typically straightforward, especially with models designed for DIY installation. Most cameras can be mounted over your existing mirror, and the wiring is often designed to blend into the car’s interior, making it a seamless upgrade for any vehicle.

Can a rear view mirror camera be used for parking assistance?

Yes, many rear view mirror cameras come with parking assistance features, offering a clear view of obstacles and other vehicles while reversing. This makes parking in tight spaces easier and safer, helping to avoid accidental damage to your car or others.

[pantherazuredevil]

Japan Trip 2023 - Day 5 (Fushimi Inari Taisha) Part 1

I ended up not sleeping well throughout the night and got up with my alarm feeling tired, partially because of the hotel environment. I didn't really like how many gaijin were there making noise throughout the night. I went down at slightly before 8 for breakfast as the sign said that the congestion times were most likely 7-8 AM.

That ended up being the first big mistake of the day. There was a large crowd, though I suppose being able to find a seat did mean it wasn't fully congested. It was a Western-style buffet breakfast and didn't really taste that good either, except for the milk and minestrone soup. I didn't bother with pictures, and rushed to finish as soon as possible so I could get out of there to rest a bit before heading out at about 9:15 AM.

I reached Fushimi Inari Taisha (hereafter referred to Mt. Inari for reasons that will become apparent) by about 9:40 AM latest, and began to see where to go and what to do. One of the main highlights would be tossing the coin into the prayer box before making a prayer, but by the time I found it there were not only a lot of people there, but once again I had run out of ￥100 coins, so I decided to return later once I had bought stuff off the tourist traps uphill and obtained some change.

There were huge crowds my gawd, both of the international kind and the school trip kind. I suppose the timing was just bad since it was still spring and the time when schools around Japan made their trips to Kyoto. If I had come during the sakura season (it was almost over when I got there) or Golden Week (it was the week after I left Japan) it'd be unimaginably worse. I started climbing amidst the sea of humans, trying not to bump into people and hoping for a way out of the masses. I actually took 3 short videos of the squeeze but decided to just save 1, and you can view it here.

Now here was where I made my 2nd big mistake of the day. I saw the torii gates heading downward at one point and got confused. I thought they were supposed to keep going up to a fork in the road where I could then take another path upwards to the mountain peak. There was, however, a very small side path of gravel that seemed to go upward branching off from the main route, and a gaijin made his way up the path, with a sign that said there was some shrine there too, so I decided, why not? Maybe this was the correct way, since it looked to me at the time that it was the only way up. The picture on the right above is a picture of the small shrine that was further down the path when you follow it.

Climbing on the path at first seemed like a really good decision. The number of people immediately dropped drastically to almost none, and here's a video I took of the initial part of the path showing its lack of popularity. There were no torii gates here, only small shrines, and I suppose that should have been a red flag in and of itself. I liked the scenery though as well as the lack of people, and I don't think I've climbed a mountain (or anything that could even be remotely called a proper hill) for decades, so I was enjoying the trek honestly.

The above pictures show part of the path after I left the small shrine, the number of people eventually dwindled to nothing, leaving me alone on what I could only call a mountain trail, though it wasn't anything dangerous or difficult. Here's a short video of some part I passed showing what I guessed to be bamboo at around 10 AM.

It was truly like a mountain trail though, with slippery muddy slopes and steep stairs, which accounted for the lack of people around. That did however make it better for me, the serenity of it all was calming after the huge crowds, but by now I knew it was truly not the main path.

I reached a midway point of sorts I suppose, where I actually saw cats! There were some buildings that people obviously lived in, and some cars. There was an old man and I asked him politely about the way up to the mountain top, and he pointed me in the right direction, saying it was about another 20 more minutes of climbing.

I persisted onward despite the revelation that I was not on the main path and came onto a rather steep and dangerous flight of stairs, where one wrong step would definitely end up in an injury in a part of the mountain no one was in, so I was very careful here. Even so, I made good progress in terms of time, but I had to rest a few times because it was such a steep climb and I was truly huffing hard by the end of it.

These two pictures are of the same flight of stairs that I had to climb while panting really hard in the process. I paused in the middle to take a picture of the way I had come and the way I still had to climb. The pictures don't show the winding steep stairs that I had already taken up to this point, and the continuing climb upwards.

The guy had said 20 minutes, but when I finally reached what I could only guess was the side entry to one of the main paths going up to the top, I was like, "No man, 20 minutes is for you folks accustomed to the climb, damn that was really tough for me." I believe I took about 25 minutes but I couldn't be sure at the time.

The main path of course took me to the top, but wow what a climb. It was definitely quite the experience for sure, and I was messaging my friends throughout wondering where it had all gone wrong, but hey I got to experience a different side of Mt. Inari, and quite frankly it wasn't half as bad as I would have people imagine it was at the time. At least I skipped the crowds. Here's a video I took around 10:39 AM after exiting the side path. I reached the peak not long after this video.

A map drawn on the whiteboard at the peak showing the actual main routes, two of them, forming a loop you were supposed to go counter-clockwise or clockwise in. I didn't follow either route on the way up or down.

I rested for a while at the top and had a look around. There was a shrine up there but I ended up not praying at it. I did pay respects with a bow at a lot of mini shrines on the way up, there were tons of them off the beaten path. I didn't take pictures as it would be disrespectful, and most of them were of the same types of statues anyway.

I believe this was where I exited the side path onto the main path at last. It was a treacherous trek indeed, but I did take it as a good experience for the future. I was careful throughout not to make a slip since it did mean I would have no one coming to assist me should something happen.

I started descending and 10 minutes later came upon a shop that was selling some matcha ice-cream wafer. It was nice to have a cold snack after the harsh climb I undertook, and once again I sat here a short while enjoying the wafer and taking a break. Here's a video I took as I started my descent around 10:50 AM.

It was also here that I asked the shopkeeper about the routes, and he brought out a map showing that there were only 2, meaning I had truly taken a side path. I believe the side path was only for mountain hikers or locals, and therefore was unused most of the time. That meant I had strayed off the main path, which was already obvious anyway, GFDI. I thanked him for the info and continued my descent.

Continued in Part 2

[namorslutfanfiction]

NAMORSLUTFANFICTION UPDATE 1/21/23 (PLEASE READ)

REQUESTS will be open until 1/22/2023 at 11:59 PM PST (Until then please feel free to send more requests)

Request HERE

MASTERLIST (This is also pinned to the top of my page and will be updated at the end of each day that I write)

READ THIS BEFORE YOU MAKE A REQUEST

I will be closing requests that night to allow me time to catch up on requests and keep things organized. I will reopen requests when I don't have as many things in progress at once. Below is a list with descriptions of what requests I currently have to work on. Please cross reference with this list and my Masterlist before you make a request

Tenoch

Tenoch gets needy when he's high (smut)

Tenoch and you get stranded on a road trip. (Smut)

Tenoch got you a new toy. exhibitionism (smut)

You're new to the MCU and Tenoch shows you why they call him "Too Much" Huerta (Fluff)

Tenoch and his costar do not get along. Enemies to lovers (Smut)

Tenoch fake dates his friends sister as a favor (fluff, hurt/comfort)

Tenoch looks damn sexy in black and you heat things up (Smut)

Tenoch takes you on a romantic date, rife with tension. (Smut)

Tenoch is in a situationship that might end because he's a stubborn fboy (angst, jealousy, fluff)

Tenoch eating ass because he can

Tenoch and his ex end up signing up for the same film (angst)

Tenoch helps you with you insecurities (hurt/comfort, fluff)

Tenoch/Reader/Winston love triangle. (ANGST)

Tenoch's ex releases a song about their relationship and its a sore spot (angst)

Tenoch and you are the resident sex symbols of pop culture. When you sign a movie together rumors fly (plot, smut)

Tenoch tries to cherish the one nigh the has with you because he knows he can't keep you (Angst, smut)

Rafa

You hated Sofia for what she did and decide to comfort Rafa (fluff)

Rafa stops your car and whisks you away (fluff)

Yandere!Rafa kidnaps you because he loves you (tension, fluff)

Rafa was a giver and when your birthday comes around he's in his element (fluff)

Yandere!Rafa falls in love with a foreigner despite everyone telling him he's an idiot (obsession, fluff)

Rafa has a thing for Miguel's sister. (Angst, fluff, smut)

Rafa found a smart college girl and she seems to be useful to Miguel. Rafa doesn't like that (Smut)

Rafa meets his match in a rival cultivator. He really had a thing for dominant women (tension, smut)

Rafa has a praise kink and you have fun with it (Smut)

Namor

Namor helps you with the loss of a family member (hurt/comfort)

Namor and pre-birth nerves (fluff, hurt/comfort)

Namor and a reader with thalassophobia (anxiety, fluff)

Namor is falling in love again and doesn't know how he feels about it (angst)

Namor and his Queen love to banter and it comes as a bit of a shock to everyone else (fluff)

Namor and reader's daughter is kidnapped during the war with Wakanda (angst, action)

Namor saves reader from drowning (Meet cute, fluff)

Namor has a thing about his ears and wings (angst, fluff smut?)

Namor vs lip plumper (fluff, comedy)

Namor meets someone blessed and saved by the sea. (Fluff)

Namor and Reader fighting about kids (angst, hurt/comfort)

Namor gets jealous when some of your friends turn out to be your ex lovers (jealousy, fluff)

Namor falls in love at first sight, he hates it. (fluff)

Reader loves Namor and shows him as best she can that he means the world to her. Even if it's dangerous (angst, hurt/comfort)

Follow up Chapters

Namor the Sub chapter 3 (SMUT)

M'baku/Reader/Namor love triangle chapter 2 (Angst, smut)

NamorxTeacher!Reader Married life with children (fluff)

TenochxReader follow up to plane meet cute (Fluff)

TenochxReader Elevator Chapter 3 (Fluff, smut)

NamorxReader make a deal Chapter 2 (Angst, smut)

TenochxReader meet again after that night in Mexico (Fluff)

TenochxReader Praise Kink Chapter 2 (Smut)

Long Form Fanfic WIP (not posted...yet)

Gem of the East Sea: Namor/Filipino Original Female Character

If you have any questions about what I am willing to write please feel free to shoot me a message or ask in my askbox. I EXPECT MY BOX TO BE FILLED BEFORE I CLOSE IT

Lead time for fics is sitting at three weeks due to the volume but fear not I promise I will be more prolific now that I am more organized.

I will be cross posting everything on my AO3 account namorslutfanfiction77. But everything will be posted here first.

BELOW ARE MY REQUEST RULES IF YOU CAN'T FOLLOW THE LINK ABOVE!!!

Send me Namor/Rafa/ Tenoch prompts/scenarios/reacts and I’ll write you a ficlet.

Requests are OPEN AS OF 12/16/2022. 

Thank you for all the requests, support, and patience.

• I only write Reader or Specific OC. If you or your OC have specific characteristics, you want written into it. I cannot accommodate everything as I do not have universal knowledge, but I will write to the best of my ability. 

• I take any request, but if it is something I am uncomfortable with I will just tell you I won’t take. But I’m pretty much okay with everything.

• Feel free to ask me questions if you aren’t sure about something. I am super nice I promise.

• The more specific the request the better.

• I’m a slacker when it comes to proofreading so sorry in advance for any typos or errors in the scenarios. 

• I do the requests in the order I receive them so be patient if I don’t get it out right away.

• I only take requests through the ask box, please don’t message me. 

• I have the right to adjust the request as I see fit so I can give you a fic that is sensible and something I can write, but I will take your stated preferences into account. 

If you do not see me publish your request there is a likelihood that I could not think of anything to write for it. I apologize but I do not want to force a story if I cannot come up with anything. 

Any requests not sent to my ask box and instead messaged to me will be deleted. 

Please be patient as I am only one person and I have a full time job and life. 

This is all for our fun and pleasure. 

Once again, all comments, reviews, notes, replies, reactions, and messages are appreciated and welcome. Thank you so much for welcoming me back into the writing world. I hope I can do all these requests justice.

Stay Happy, Stay Healthy,

Namorslutfanfiction/Theatreslave

[froggie-recs-fics]

Fic Roundup (up to 9/26/21)

I'm gonna start collecting fics I've read recently to recommend them, because making trope lists takes too long and many fics fall by the wayside. Let me know if you like this new format!

The fandoms in this list are as follows: Marvel (SamBucky, HTP, SpideyPool, WinterHawk, WinterIron, Stony, Stucky, SpiderShield), DCU (Bane/Blake), Inception (Arthur/Eames), Teen Wolf (Sterek).

A * signifies a particular favorite (though I love all these fics)

Marvel

Sam/Bucky

double back by flowermasters (E, 12K, Post-Endgame, Time Loop, Time Travel)

Sam gets stuck in a time loop. In 1943.

Things could be worse, but they could certainly be better.

Companion piece here: quick time

I'll explain everything to the geese by napricot (Post-Endgame, E, 50K, Sam can talk to birds)

Bucky is so competent that it hurts my feelings is not a rational complaint to have about a person, and yet, after a year of being Captain America and partnering up with Bucky for the new and improved, post-Blip Avengers, that’s kinda how Sam’s feeling.

It’s not great. It maybe leads to Sam making some rash, ill-advised decisions like claiming he has a previously undisclosed superpower, and then getting caught in a web of lies when he ends up actually developing that surprisingly inconvenient superpower. Talking to birds had seemed like a harmless superpower, but it turns out that birds have a lot of opinions, and they don’t hesitate to tell Sam about them, especially when it comes to his supposedly subpar courting skills. Which is ridiculous, because Sam isn’t courting Bucky. Right?

Rumlow/Bucky

**blueprints for a better world series by itallstartedwithdefenestration @astralhux (CATWS, Post-CATWS, Noncon, E, 115K, Dark Main Character)

When Pierce discovers the asset is no longer capable of getting himself hard during recreational use, he tells Rumlow to figure out what the problem is, and to fix it. The solution turns out to be more complicated than anyone expected.

I can't recommend this series enough

Peter/Wade

*Dead Men Walking series by doctorestranged @lazystrawberrymilkshakes (E, 235K, Identity Porn, Slow Burn)

When a series of murders take place, Peter Parker goes undercover in Sister Margaret’s to get intel on Tony Stark’s prime suspect: Deadpool. Peter goes in hoping to get enough information so that Spider-Man can save the day, but like everything in Peter’s life, it becomes a bit more complicated than that and it soon becomes apparent that he might not be the best fit for the job.

All About Chemistry by TwiceBakedPotato @sedatedkoala (No Powers AU, M, CNTW, 74K, Teacher-Student Relationship, Slow Build)

After serving his 20 years in the Marine Corps, Wade Wilson is cashing in his GI Bill and going back to college. He feels like the old man on campus, but that doesn't matter. He likes his classes. He likes learning. And he especially likes his Chemistry professor with the messy brown hair.

Clint/Bucky

Making Me A Habit by Kangofu_CB @kangofu-cb (No Powers AU, T, 20K, Pet Store, Slow Burn, Pining, Misunderstandings)

Bucky is a disabled vet struggling with reintegrating into civilian life. He has a routine and a rhythm, and he doesn't like to let anything - big or small - disrupt it. That all changes the day Bucky finds himself inside CATastrophe, the local pet rescue, recovering from a panic attack in the back room of the shop.

He’s used to walking by the place, not visiting, but the next thing Bucky knows, he’s hanging signs and being used as a climbing tree for a bunch of freshly-acquired kittens. And he just...keeps going back. First for the kittens, then for the disaster shop owner who rescues actual kittens from actual trees and teaches archery as a side-gig, and eventually because he’s hopelessly in love.

(Clint was in love before Bucky ever walked in the door.)

*Nameless by AvaKelly (Post-CATWS, M, 101K, Time Travel, Time Loop, Slow Burn)

A gun is pointed at him before he can even move from his position, the Soldier's metal arm steady in its aim. Clint sighs.

"Nemo," Clint says. "It's tattooed on your wrist, right here," he lifts his right hand and taps his left index finger where his palm ends.

The Soldier's eyes widen. "How do you know this?"

"I put it there."

Glitter, G-Strings and Other Mission Hazards by flawedamythyst @flawedamythyst (T, 16K, Undercover, Stripper Clint)

“Which is why you need me to shake my booty for cash,” said Clint.

“Precisely,” said Coulson. “You’re the only agent we have who wouldn’t need additional training in the skills of an exotic dancer to take on the mission, and we want to get someone in there as soon as possible.”

Clint nodded, shutting the file. “Okay, awesome. I’ll dig out my sequined g-string.”

“You’ll have full access to requisition any costumes you might need,” said Coulson.

A mission requires Bucky to be Clint's back-up as he goes undercover as a stripper, which gets more difficult with every new costume he comes out in.

Paternal Error by EVVS @skylarkevanson (Post-CATWS, T, 33K, Kid Fic, Established Relationship)

Bucky has never once thought of being a parent. Not since the Winter Solider happened.

Until he falls in love with Clint Barton. And that idiot just keeps collecting children for his flock.

Now Bucky has to pretend like he's good at parenting.

Bucky/Tony

Forms of Love by bear_bell (Post-CACW, E, 33K, Split Personalities)

Months after the Avengers' dispute in Germany, the team returns to the US and moves back into the tower. As always, everyone pretends that nothing happened. Tony is just fine with this. He's used to pretending, and he'll be damned if he lets any of them see him flinch.

Tony's the bad guy, after all. He's used to it. He's fine with it. He's good at it.

Only now, there's something far worse loitering around the tower - The Winter Soldier. No one notices the guy at first, but when they do, Tony figures that he should have the soldier's back.

Birds of a feather should flock together, and the bad guys should start a book club.

Steve/Tony

While You Were Sleeping by betheflame @betheflame (No Powers AU, M, 65K, While You Were Sleeping AU)

It's been years since Steve Grant Rogers Drysdale has spoken to his twin, Ransom. So it was quite a shock when he was summoned to a hospital and found out that Ransom was in a coma.

Even more shocking? That Ransom is engaged. To Tony Stark.

Steve/Bucky

The Road Goes Ever On And On by PipGraham (Omegaverse AU, M, Noncon, Graphic Violence, 20K, Road Trip, Pre-Serum Steve, Past Domestic Violence)

When Brock's continued domestic abuse puts not only Steve's life in danger, but also that of his unborn pup, he flees into the night with just a small backpack of clothes and almost no money to his name.

Steve quickly runs into trouble as he tries to embark on a 3-day cross-country bus journey back home to New York City.

He meets a kind veteran when he most needs a helping hand.

Just Words by LadyRazzle (crimegimp) @ladyrazzle (Pre-CATFA, Soulmate AU, T, 2K, Fluff)

Inspired by that now legendary post: "soulmate AU where you wake up on your 18th birthday with the first words your soulmate will say to you tattooed on your body so you’ll know them when you meet them." Well what if they appear the moment you turn 18, rather than just the day? And what if by the time you turn 18, you'd already fallen in love?

Bucky wasn’t eager to discover what the words said. He already knew what he wanted them to say. He always had.

Peter/Steve

Forgetting It's There by spinstitcher (stygian) (NR, 8K, Crack, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Porn)

“You’re Captain America,” he blurts out.

“What?” says Captain America, looking a little wide-eyed. He casts a nervous glance at the girl at the counter – he has nothing to worry about there, she’s rocking out to her iPod and could care less what they’re talking about – and says, “No, uh, Steve, it’s just, I’m Steve.”

“Right,” says Peter, and then because his brain-to-mouth filter had apparently been completely destroyed in the fight on Oscorp Tower: “Hey, your butt really is as tight as it looks on TV.”

DCU

Bane/Blake

7 Deadly Ass(as)sins by teacuphuman @teacuphuman09 (AU, E, 23K, BDSM)

Bane and Barsad own a sex shop and John needs a job.

Straws by Menirva (Bane/Blake/Barsad, AU, E, 38K, BDSM)

John works in a smoothie shop.

He has a knack, a second sense if you will, for being able to look at a person and know what they're going to order. It's not the most spectacular gift in the world but he likes being able to figure people out and he's never wrong.

Except for this scruffy asshole who is clearly just ordering the wrong thing to fuck with him.

How is he even finishing an extra-large?

Inception

Aurthur/Eames

Rough Trade by Whisky (whiskyrunner) @whiskyrunner (AU, E, 23K, Internalized Homophobia)

Arthur is an investment banker. He is professional and efficient. He's a halfway decent cook. He's totally independent and has been since the age of eighteen. Maybe he's tired all the time because he works about ninety hours a week which is twice what normal people do, but he's rich and he's competent at his job. He's almost thirty, and already a success.

And there are some things Arthur is not. For instance: Arthur is not gay.

Lucky by earlgreytea68 @earlgreytea68 (M, 37K, Kid fic)

Arthur finds a baby.

Teen Wolf

Stiles/Derek

Cut to the Bone by standinginanicedress (Omegaverse AU, E, 112K, Secret Relationship, Enemies to Lovers kinda)

“Not that it’s any of your god damn business, but my name is Stiles. Do you need something?”

The alpha grins. All teeth, shiny white, straight as an arrow. He’s got this sculpted perfection to him that Stiles is sure has worked on all the omegas he’s ever encountered before, but Stiles stands his ground and narrows his eyes. “A date.”

Stiles looks him up and down, slowly, from the black shoes on his feet, to his uniform khakis and blazer littered with pins, to his face. He frowns, makes a face, and says, “pass.”

Cornerstone by Vendelin (Human AU, E, 83K, Marine Derek, Blind Stiles, Friends to Lovers)

Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

Stand Fast in Your Enchantments by DevilDoll, Rahciach (AU, Graphic Violence, E, 76K, Captivity, Feral Derek)

"Stiles knew damn well what a pissed-off wolf sounded like, and every hair on the back of his neck was telling him that somewhere in this room was a very pissed-off werewolf." An AU in which Derek is feral, Stiles is magical, and they eat a lot of fast food.

The Payoff Pitch by Leslie_Knope (Sports AU, E, 83K, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers)

Derek is on the cusp of his second season with the LA Dodgers, and as the reigning runner-up Rookie of the Year, the pressure’s on him to become the team’s star pitcher and lead them to the playoffs for the first time in five years. He’s trying to deal with the burden of expectations and really has zero desire to spend any extra time or energy on anything that isn’t baseball.

But then he meets Stiles.

[paulbunyanstatue]

When Tim’s head finally dropped and landed heavily on Bruce’s arm with a small snore passing through his parted lips, the man understood patrol over Gotham’s twilight-shadowed streets was coming to an end for the night. Batman and Robin already stopped two attempted robberies and helped a small child find her parents after accidentally wandering away from a local gas station in the middle of a long overnight trip through the town. Tim was never as talkative as Dick on patrol, or even Jason for that matter, but Bruce noticed when he became particularly quiet just after the Gotham clock rang midnight. Bruce wondered if something related to his schooling was bothering the kid, but Tim just said they were fine when Bruce asked about the classes he was taking. Bruce then asked how Tim’s father was, wondering if the quiet demeanor was due to an argument at home, but Tim said he was fine too.

Bruce understood when Tim’s eyes slipped closed the first time, long past a blink and shown in a mimicking movement of the lenses of his domino mask. His chin slowly inched down toward his own chest and Bruce bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He found it hilarious that the kid could sleep anywhere. Bruce once found him stretched across Dick’s old gymnastic bars in the bat cave, mouth hung ajar and feet dangling over the edge. Alfred found Tim sprawled out across a pool table one evening. He and Dick had been playing but when the older stepped away to accept a work phone call, Tim fell asleep there. Bruce's favorite by far was finding Tim standing propped up against the desk at the bank, bo staff extended and acting as a support beam, while Bruce finished apprehending the robbers. Now, Bruce cleared his throat and pretended not to see when Tim’s head snapped up alongside the sudden widening of the gray lens. The second time Tim fell asleep on patrol that night, the child’s temple landed resting against Bruce’s upper arm and he glanced carefully at his gauntlet to see it was nearly two o’clock in the morning. The hour was earlier than he would normally call off patrol, but the idea of keeping Tim out of a bed for much longer felt heavy in his chest.

Bruce purposefully scuffed his boot against the edge of the building on which the pair were perched, climbing to his feet in the process and watching from the corner of his eye as Tim scrambled up on shaky legs. Bruce knew those blue eyes were blown wide underneath the mask with the surprise of suddenly being woken up. He guided Tim to the opposite edge of the building, momentarily considering they grapple to the neighboring roof to further wake him. But he dismissed that as exceptionally dangerous given his Robin had already fallen asleep twice that night.

Tim crouched down next to Batman, purposefully on his haunches in favor of sitting comfortably flat on the ground, and crossed his arms over his knees. Bruce was bored tonight, but he couldn’t deny he preferred it this way on the evenings that he was accompanied by a child. He still felt his skin crawl when they were forced to fight a violent rogue, particularly after Tim was trapped in a silo with Dick acting violently on fear gas. Bruce often thought back to that night and his cheeks flushed with shame. He despised the way he reacted, so caught up in his anger and terror that he made Tim feel small and like a failure. Alfred had given Bruce a sharp, furious look when he found out what happened during Robin’s rescue that evening. He gave Bruce the silent treatment and provided disappointed looks until Bruce relented and apologized to Tim in earnest.

After another hour of silence disturbed only by the tearing of tires along a road and one screeching car alarm sounding (which was followed by a muttered curse by the owner before the noise ceased and left an echoing of this disturbance in the quiet air), Bruce granted them both the opportunity to go home. Catching up on sleep would benefit him too, as it turns out. He knows he’s heard that enough from Alfred.

“Robin,” his gravely voice was only a hint softer than usual, even Tim had a difficult time noticing. “Come.” With a bitten groan, Tim stood up and stretched up toward the polluted sky, bending his back and yawning largely.

Like a cat, Bruce thought. No wonder Selena thought the kid was adorable.

“What’s happening, Batman?” Tim whispered, listening carefully for sirens. “Did you get a call?”

“No,” Bruce responded easily. “We are done for the night. The streets are gentle enough.”

Tim nodded in agreement. They did seem gentle enough.

They approached the edge of the roof and Bruce glanced down at the hard concrete far below their feet, and sudden terror filled his mind. This particular fear consisted of seeing Robin sprawled out on the sidewalk, so far from the roof and twisted on the ground next to a missed or broken grapple, was a near-constant nuisance in the back of his mind. Sometimes in the thick of his anxious dreams, he still heard the sound of Dick’s parents when they fell to their death before him, a sickening thud that echoed throughout the crowd. Today and standing next to one so tired brought that thought forward with a blow to his gut.

“Robin...” he began, a hesitant whisper that brought Tim blinking largely up at him. “I’m going to repel us both down, okay?”

Tim frowned at the notion. He hadn’t repelled with Bruce since his first few training days when he was still growing accustomed to the sensation of falling that flooded his belly after his feet left the roof top, save one instance in that silo when Tim’s grappling hook was broken. But other than that, Bruce had always trusted that Tim was able to do that himself. Tim was suddenly riddled with the fear that he did something wrong, something to anger Bruce. The man called off patrol early in the night and now he was ordering Tim not to use his own grappling hook. Tim warily looked out at the night sky and wondered if Bruce was planning on firing him.

The thick silence stood in companionship to the changes of worry dancing across the face before Bruce, and he tried to soften the lines tracing his own jaw in response. He could clarify his reasoning, and he even knew that he should do that to alleviate the tension and anxiety. He should tell Tim that he saw him falling asleep and this was simply a precaution, nothing more. But instead, he beckoned the boy with a glove and ordered, “Come.”

Tim’s heels begged to remain planted on the concrete roof, urging him to defend his place as Batman’s new Robin. But his sworn obedience pushed him forward anyway, nearer to Bruce. He tried to ignore the arm wrapping around his waist and the feeling of being pulled against Bruce’s chest as his feet lifted from the ground, but an embarrassed flush colored his cheeks anyway. The position was comfortable and he wished for this modified hug more often after having had the privilege of being held by the very person that he could never admit out loud to holding a parental position in his mind. But his stubborn brain reminded him harshly of the reality surrounding him. Bruce wasn’t his father, and Tim believed Bruce saw him as more of a business partner. Batman and Robin; Tim knew that from the very start of the arrangement.

Tim saw Bruce act fatherly toward his first two Robins, even during their time spent as “normal people.” He had witnessed Bruce hugging Dick and draping his arm around Jason’s shoulders at the fancy parties his own parents forced him to. He witnessed Bruce murmur jokes to his children who snickered in response and shoved him back playfully, and Tim watched as they shared food from a single plate and silently mimicked the ridiculous high society that surrounded them. Tim longed for that attention as he turned back to his own parents who hardly spoke to him during these parties. Instead, they waved toward him and bragged about his grades to other parents who also didn’t really care.

Tim wanted those hugs and shoulder drapes as well, as Bruce’s new Robin. But that was different, Dick and Jason were actually Bruce’s sons. And Tim was not his-

Tim’s feet landed on the solid alleyway stone, his heel dipped in a sticking puddle, and didn’t that suit his situation perfectly?

“Come on,” Bruce said again and Tim sucked in a deep breath through his nose. Bruce never wasted his time on patrol ordering Tim to follow. That was a mandatory expectation since his very first day wearing the dark cape and R across his chest. But he did follow, tailing closely behind Bruce until he slid silently into the passenger seat of the sleekly-hidden Batmobile. He buckled his seat belt as Bruce started the engine from his place behind the wheel.

“Batman,” Tim began, forcing his voice louder than the mere whisper he wished to produce. Bruce grunted in question. “Are we patrolling somewhere else tonight?”

“At home in a bed,” Bruce answered smoothly.

“And is something wrong with my grapple?”

“I sure hope not.” The same easy answer.

Tim bit his lower lip and thought, so Bruce doesn't care that he is ridding himself of me so soon after allowing me to join in crime-fighting. Ouch. Tim took another deep breath and silently worked on removing his domino mask, snatching the solution from the glove box and slowly peeling the corners from his face. When at last he was free of the mask, he stared out the window and watched the street lamps pass by with a pale yellow glow, seemingly taunting Tim throughout the long drive back home.

Not home, Tim reminded himself sharply. Even though he stayed there a few times overnight when patrol leaked into dusk and when he suffered an injury that required him a safe bed in Bruce’s sick bay and guest bedroom, it was not his home. Tim had a home and he had a living father, and Bruce wasn’t his dad. He crossed his arms protectively over his chest, sinking lower into his seat and purposefully ignoring the confused look it gained from Bruce. He watched the shadowed alleyways pass by as his temple fell back to lean against the head rest so he could only watch the streets pass them by. Tim did not notice when his eyes slipped closed.

Bruce finally pulled into the cave entrance and threw another glance toward Tim. The kid was still asleep and Bruce had to fight the urge to chuckle because the poor guy must have been exhausted to sleep through the bumping terrain that brought them back. He turned off the ignition and faced Tim once more.

“Tim?” He whispered, pushing back his own cowl. But the kid still didn’t stir. Bruce couldn’t bring himself to shake Tim awake, and he instead slid out of his own seat and glided over to the passenger side where he opened the door. He bent over and moved toward Tim, just about to slide an arm under his knees and the other behind his back when he quickly froze. What am I doing? His thoughts halted. This child already has a father, someone who specifically is not Bruce. He couldn’t overstep the barrier that sternly separated himself as a mentor from that of a parent, especially while Tim was positioned so that he had no say in the matter.

Sure, he had carried both Dick and Jason inside after they fell asleep either during patrol or the car ride after, but they were his children. Tim already knew Bruce adopted the two Robins that preceded him, but that knowledge itself wasn’t permission for Bruce to fill a similar position in his own life, no matter how much Bruce believed he needed and deserved it. Tim staying at Bruce’s manor several nights each week without so much as a phone call from his father was proof enough that Tim wasn’t receiving attention like one deserved.

But simply having an absent father was not an invite for Bruce to become his. Despite this, Bruce couldn’t leave him in the car  to wake up cold and alone, and he definitely couldn’t wake up that face that relaxed so peacefully while dreaming. And so despite his screeching brain, he reached forward and snaked his arms under Tim, one under his knees and the other behind his back, and he lifted him up to rest against his chest. At the touch, Tim unconsciously moved closer, turning his head toward the warmth that held him, but he otherwise did not stir. This brought a smile to Bruce’s lips.

He carefully carried Tim toward the staircase leading up to the main house’s library, stopping only to flick the lights off. As he entered the manor, he was met with Alfred’s near-frown. It was an expression that meant he was awaiting an explanation for something that he already knew he would not agree with. Bruce shrugged carefully in response to the blatant disappointment at disobeying the one rule of 'no Batman and Robin in the main house.'

“He fell asleep in the car. I couldn’t leave him down there.”

“You could have woken him to change out of the suit first,” Alfred responded coolly, though Bruce noticed the man spoke in a hushed whisper to avoid senselessly waking Tim. Bruce gave him a pointed look and guided the man’s gaze down to the sleeping face below them, only chest-high to Bruce and with his cheeks puffed out with the exhales of the unconscious. Neither man could feign supporting the idea of purposefully waking Tim.

Bruce slipped past Alfred with a swear to clean himself up after he put Tim to bed, something that notably did not receive argument. He climbed the stairs slowly, careful not to jostle Tim too much during the ascent. Despite the efforts, Tim’s eyes cracked open at the top of the stairs as Bruce carried him toward the bedroom door that Alfred and Bruce knew as Tim’s room. His expression flickered from confusion to realization and frustration all in the span of one second. Tim frowned up at Bruce, face so disgruntled that Bruce was forced to swallow a laugh as he met the fierce gaze.

“I can walk.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he stated with a hint of humor still present.

“Bruce, are you going to fire me?” Tim’s voice was firm, a question of business leaving no room for his personal feelings that could so easily be hurt right now.

Bruce didn’t feel the need to laugh anymore; the urge was replaced efficiently with an ache of stabbing guilt. “What?” He whispered. His feet stopped carrying the pair forward immediately, and he was frozen on the carpet.

“I promise I can do better. I am really sorry.” The plea was in stark contrast to the hardness of his previous tone. Now apprehension and begging pounded heavily from behind his words, born deep in his gut. It was obvious Tim didn’t know what he was apologizing for, but he still hoped it would change Bruce’s mind. Tim looked down at the Robin suit he still wore and visibly relaxed a fraction, hoping that because Bruce hadn't already snatched it from him meant it wasn’t too late for Tim.

“Tim, what are you apologizing for?” Bruce asked, voice still hushed but presenting a hint of worry. He did not know what he had missed in the time between driving Tim home and now, standing on the second floor of the mansion and holding the child.

Tim’s eyes met Bruce's for a brief moment before falling and landing at his collar instead, while he threaded the corner of his own cape through shaking fingers. He stayed quiet for longer than Bruce was comfortable with, but the man waited in patient silence anyway while Tim wracked his brain for the thing he supposedly did wrong. “I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough, but I promise I will be. I will try even harder.”

“Tim,” Bruce began again, eyebrows furrowing and tightening his grip on Tim protectively. You have nothing to apologize for. You are already trying so hard and it shows with your excellent work. You are good enough and you have been from the very beginning because you are strong and brilliant and loyal and-

“Please don’t fire me,” Tim whispered before Bruce could spit out any of the overwhelming thoughts that cluttered his worried mind.

“I am not firing you. What is this about?” He asked, instead.

“Patrol ended early tonight, and you didn’t trust me to grapple down from that building...” Tim rambled softly, picking at his fingernail with intense interest.

“I ended patrol and grappled down with you because you fell asleep-“

“I didn’t fall asleep,” Tim snapped gruffly and Bruce couldn’t help the challenge in his fast-lifting eyebrow. Tim appeared sheepish as his cheeks colored, and he murmured softly, “I’m sorry. I promise it will never happen again.”

“You aren’t in trouble for falling asleep, and you aren’t fired. You were tired so we came home a little early,” Bruce stated firmly.

“What?” Tim stiffened, suddenly feeling very small while still clutched firmly in Bruce’s strong arms, who stood like a rock as though Tim’s weight was not a hindrance. “I’m not in trouble?”

“Of course not, sweetheart.” And now it was Bruce’s turn to freeze. He couldn’t believe he allowed that word to slip from his lips while speaking to Tim Drake, the child technically in his care as Batman and Robin, but one that already had a father. Tim was not another orphan in need of love and attention, waiting for Bruce to take him into his home.

“Oh,” Tim whispered, staring with pupils blown and cheeks darkening further. And against all odds, Bruce felt Tim relax in his arms as he returned his head to the man’s chest. With a deep breath of relief, Bruce continued his trek. “But, I really can walk now. You didn’t have to carry me.”

“I’m expecting you to carry me up all of these stairs next time,” Bruce responded easily, earning a small giggle.

“Won’t Alfred be mad about us wearing all of this stuff up here?” Tim murmured, lightly kicking his boot-covered toes and holding a corner of his cape up as clear evidence of their misdemeanor.

“Oh don’t worry about that, I already told Alfred it was your fault.” Bruce tossed Tim onto the bed-Tim’s bed, as it was in Bruce’s and Alfred’s minds. Tim saw the room as the guest bedroom because he didn’t know it was only ever occupied by him. He remained seemingly oblivious to the fact that Alfred had purchased posters of Tim’s favorite movies for the walls and Bruce lined the bookshelves with comics, novels, and figurines all for him. Tim noticed the items, but he assumed they belonged to Dick.

Tim landed on the mattress with a surprised burst of air forced out in the shape of a laugh. Where Dick would complain dramatically while wearing a smirk and Jason would bite back with a playful eye roll, Tim just giggled at Bruce’s antics. Bruce thought they were all three so perfect.

“Do you need to call your father?” Bruce asked, trying to sound passive though watching carefully as Tim toed off his boots and unclipped his cape, tossing them both to the floor in a messy heap. He worked hard to hide the bitterness in his voice regarding Tim’s distant upbringing, but it shone violently when he spoke in private about the matter to Alfred.

“Nah, he’s probably asleep, and he won’t want me to bother him. I’ll text him tomorrow,” Tim’s voice didn’t waver because this negligence was considered normal based on years of experience. Bruce swallowed a frustrated growl that threatened to break through with force and fury, and he turned to the dresser.

“Want clean clothes? We put some of Dick’s old t-shirts and shorts in here for you.” Tim’s chest thumped sore hearing that. Being offered Bruce’s child’s clothing seemed very personal, very loving. But Tim reminded himself that he was not Bruce’s son, though he often wished to be. He wanted from Bruce what he didn’t get from his own father, the things he saw at those fancy parties from afar, painfully apparent with the hugs and forehead kisses. The taste of it he had when he woke up being carried to the guest bedroom instead of left in the dark cave downstairs. Tim longed for that. Bruce didn’t notice his dilemma, and he continued muttering instead, “Most of it is Superman-themed because he is a brat...”

“But you love him,” Tim stated aloud, catching Bruce by surprise. Bruce had noticed that this particular one had a tendency to do that. He surprised Bruce when he admitted he knew he was Batman. He surprised Bruce daily with his impressive detective skills. He surprised Bruce now. The man turned toward him with eyebrows high, but Tim ducked around his look as he hopped off the bed and approached the dresser. The words sounded like a spoken fact but felt almost like a question to Bruce, and so he answered it.

“I do love him.” He confirmed as he watched Tim shuffle through Dick’s clothes before settling on a Mario and Luigi t-shirt and a black pair of shorts.

“And you loved Jason,” another statement-question hybrid as he slipped into the attached bathroom, closing the door and peeling his suit from his body.

“I will always love Jason,” Bruce answered firmly through the door. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

He winced as he said it. Another slip that sounded a bit too parental. Though he couldn’t deny the tug at his chest when he heard the faucet turn on and the sound of bristles against teeth whispered underneath the door.

And of course Tim had a toothbrush in his bathroom at the manor.

“Because they are your sons.” Tim stepped out of the bathroom moments later and walked to the bed, crawling atop and sitting on the warm duvet. “Your mishpachah.”

Bruce slowly approached the bed, tilting his head and drawing his eyebrows with concern. “I love them because I love them. They are my mishpachah and the rest is an added privilege. Is something wrong?”

Tim grinned widely in response and shook his head. “‘Course not, Bruce.” But something was wrong and Tim wasn’t sure how to voice it. “I was just wondering is all.”

The gut feeling deep in Bruce's abdomen poked him and whispered, he’s lying. Bruce hummed in response and gave the kid a scrutinizing look, eyes narrowing slightly. Tim just continued to wear a goofy grin, and Bruce reached out and dropped a hand softly to the top of his head. Tim giggled between his teeth and continued to watch Bruce with an interested look of his own.

“Tim,” Bruce spoke with a light voice, gentle and warm. “You know, you are also my mishpachah.” Tim’s eyes widened comically and his mouth clenched tightly closed. “Even though you don’t live here, you are my family.”

Tim bit at his lip, and he lowered his eyes for a moment. He thought of Dick’s clothes that he wore, his toothbrush drying in the bathroom, this bedroom that he always stayed in when he spent the night at Bruce’s. He thought of Bruce carrying him inside the mansion when he could have simply woken him up. Tim tends to sleep like the dead, or so his father told him, but if he were pulled out of the car by an arm, he would have eventually woken up. Finally, the corner of his mouth lifted in a shy smile, and he whispered, “Thank you.”

Bruce smiled with pride and continued, “You did an excellent job tonight, Timothy.”

“Timothy,” he parroted with a snicker. “So formal.” Bruce rolled his eyes and ruffled Tim’s hair with that hand that still rested on his head. He then stepped away from him while Tim slid under the covers and laid his head on the pillow. Gravity was already pulling his eyelids closed to sleep once more. “Thanks, Bruce. G’night.”

“Goodnight, Tim.” He had to stop himself from leaning in and pressing a kiss to Tim’s forehead. Because the kid already had a father, no matter how much Bruce wanted to fill that role. “Sleep well, ziskayt.”

Though truth be told, he already considered this child his own.

:) The rest can be found here: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32502511/chapters/80612944

[missmonsters2]

Close to You

Edit: gif by giuliacommissions

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader/OFC

Prompt: I’ll keep you warm. Hold me closer.

Note: As we all know, Wanda Maximoff is the love of my life. A break for softness bc Between the Lines will be angsty and sad for a while 👀

Warnings: this is fucking soft™

Genre: Fluff

Count: 3453

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The world is beautiful. 

The sunlight's warmth caresses your cheek, a light wind running its breeze through your hair. The only sound you can hear is the soft music playing and a light snore. The smell of pine wafts through the air as you drive at a steady pace. There's no rush; you are exactly where you want to be. 

You hear a slight mumble to your right, and you turn over to see Wanda shifting slightly in her seat but doesn't wake. Her eyes are closed as she curls as much as she can in the passenger seat. 

Your lip curves upward gently as you turn your attention back to the road.

You think of the girl beside you. 

The world is beautiful.

And it was worth saving. 

You constantly have to remind yourself of that fact. Otherwise, you don't think you could get up anymore. 

Defeating Thanos had taken everything. 

Natasha was gone. Tony was gone. Vision was gone. Steve was not gone, but his hip would probably break if he moved the wrong way, so fighting was out of the question for the old man. 

So many people were still gone, and the world never felt so lonely. 

You lean your head against your fist towards the window, feeling more of the wind against your face and hair. Taking a deep breath in, you let it out slowly through your nose. 

Another noise beside you draws your attention back, and you find Wanda waking slowly. She's a little disgruntled, and the side of her hair has lifted and looped from her sleep. 

You bite your tongue, holding in the words that want to come out. 

Wanda is absolutely charming.

Still, Wanda turns her head to you a little too quickly, unintentionally catching your thoughts. Her cheeks dust a light rose color as she runs her fingers through her hair to straighten herself out. 

"Hey," she rasps, still groggy. Grabbing the water bottle between the two of you, she takes a long gulp, finishing with a light sigh.

"Hey, sleepyhead," you smile. Wanda looks apologetic, but you just chuckle it off. 

Wanda looks out the window, breath hitching just ever so slightly at the view. She likes that it feels like the world could go on and on forever in the car with you. The trees look lusher, the air seems crisper, and even the sky seems a little happier--if that makes sense. 

"Where are we heading today?" Wanda asks patiently.

Every few days to a week is always new, and Wanda has been on the road with you for a while. She's learned that sometimes you have a place in mind and the other times? You're just driving until you decide you like where you are.

"To Lake Cushman," you tap the steering wheel with your index finger in a slow, steady rhythm. Wanda hums as she rolls down her window too to feel the breeze on her skin. 

The rest of the drive is serene. The two of you enjoy the ride, listening to the same song over and over again.

When you get to the lake, you park the car, and Wanda goes to the trunk to help you carry things out. Wanda spends her time at the edge of the lake blowing up the inflatable boat you packed along manually. 

You smile.

It wasn't always like this. In fact, Wanda wasn't even someone you were really close with. Of course, you were a team, and you wouldn't hesitate to have her back in a battle. But Wanda used to have her own world with Vision, and that world existed far from you. 

It wasn't until the funeral that the two of you really noticed each other. 

The funeral left you with a hollow feeling. You stood with Clint and Wanda for a minute more before you turned to leave, muttering about contacting you if something happened. 

You were a traveler, always have been. Being an Avenger never changed that. 

You hugged Morgan and Pepper before you went to your car to pack things up.

"Can I come with you?"

The sudden words made you turn around. 

Wanda stood there, the rim of her eyes red from crying and also trying to hold in the tears. Her legs stood together straight, but she held her hands together in front of her tightly, revealing she was worried about you rejecting her. 

You stared at her for a long moment.

"Of course."

The first few weeks to two months of traveling was strange. You're not sure what possessed Wanda to ask you if she could tag along. You're not sure what possessed you to say yes.  

Wanda didn't talk much, still grieving just like you. That left the road trips with tons of silence. You weren't really sure of what to think about the company or her specifically. The only time Wanda had ever seemed happy was with Vision, and now he was gone. 

But still, you think you could pinpoint a certain day that things seemed to change. 

"No powers."

Wanda frowned. "Why not?"

"It's my rules when traveling. If you want to tag along, no powers unless we really need it." You stood firm with your stance. 

The two of you were on a hike, particularly a long one with a lot of inclines. Wanda wanted to float her way up--generously offering to take you as well, but you said no.

"You think showing our powers would be dangerous?" Wanda scrunches her brows together with a slight frown on her lips. 

"No," you blinked. 

"Then, why?" Wanda asks exasperatedly. 

You sigh, looking at the girl before you. "Wanda, there are times when efficiency is good. Like when our lives are at stake, or we're in a battle or a mission. Powers are wonderful when we need to save others."

You turn your head to look around the scenery. "But look around here," you tell her, your peripheral vision catching Wanda doing as she's told. "Right now, it's just you and me on a hike. The world isn't falling apart, no fight that needs to be fought, and we have absolutely no rush to be anywhere."

You turn your head back to Wanda's, catching the other girl's vibrant but confused eyes. "For people like us, we generally don't have the luxury to waste time. But if we get the chance the smell the flowers along the way, shouldn't we?"

Wanda stares at you. Blinking once, then twice. 

And then a tentative, shy smile blooms. 

"I used to hate the sky."

The comment is said so quietly you almost miss it, but it breaks you out of thought. 

You move your head further to the side, catching Wanda, who is still staring at the sky. The two of you lie on your backs on opposite edges of the inflatable boat. 

"Yeah?" You say as you move your head back to look at the sky along with Wanda. A warm leg moves and presses against yours, and you think about how wonderful it is to be able to share the same sky with Wanda. "Why?"

Wanda is silent, seemingly shocked because no one has ever asked why. So, she presses her lips together, trying to formulate her answer.

"I guess...I hated that the sky always seemed to pass by," Wanda sighs as she closes her eyes. "It was like time was passing by, and I didn't get the chance to notice it. I'd wake up when it was still dark, and by the time I was done the day, it was dark again."

At this point, Wanda can't tell if the warmth against her leg is hers or yours. All she knows is that she wants more of it. 

"I guess you don't hate it anymore?" You chuckle a little, knowing you and Wanda spend most days relaxing in the sun. 

Wanda opens her eyes, staring at the clear blue sky. The thought of how she's always learning something from you crosses her mind.

For example, if they have the luxury to enjoy the flowers along the journey, they should. 

Or oranges can be very flammable. 

But Wanda has come to realize things on her own too.

Like how life is made up of moments, and if she decides to be just a little brave, she can get the moments she wants. 

"The sky is beautiful during the day," Wanda concedes, but she bites her lip as you hum. Taking a deep breath before swallowing. Her moment of bravery comes in the form of sliding her hand across the small boat, her fingers just meeting the start of yours. "But I no longer mind when it's dark when I wake up and dark when my day ends if I am with you."

You turn your hand over, palm facing up as you curl your fingers to just hook Wanda's fingers.

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You're the first to wake up from your slumber. You don't even remember falling asleep. After having enough of lounging in the boat, you took Wanda on another hike. At the very top, you packed food along with a blanket. You and Wanda sat under the shade, watching the horizon just beyond the valley with soft talks about hopes and dreams. 

There's a sadness in Wanda that you don't think will ever go away, but you watch her with slow eyes as she talks about how it would be wonderful to exist in a tiny evergreen lush island. 

Wanda has a lovely complexion with rosy cheeks as she looks at her hands, talking about an island that may only exist in her dreams. Her long lashes draw you in, and you wonder if it's terrible of you to notice such things. 

You check your watch, noticing you only slept for half an hour, and look over to Wanda, who is curled against you. She sleeps peacefully as there's still plenty of daylight out. You look up, the sun passing through the leaves and branches above you.

Wanda sniffles slightly in her sleep. You turn over to find the girl shiver just once, shuffling closer to you to seek warmth.  

As you take your jacket off to drape it over her, you wonder how and when you got pulled under Wanda's spell.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The day comes to a quiet end after dinner and sitting by the campfire. The wonderful thing about your car is that you can push the back seat down and make a little bed to rest in. 

The back is filled with pillows and blankets, and as you have your pillow propped up with your back against it, you can look out the back window of your car and into the skyline outside. 

Perhaps it's because the two of you have slept most of the day, but sleep doesn't come as easily at night. You've got your Bluetooth speaker playing music in the background to relax you. 

"I can't sleep," Wanda mumbles and sits up. You chuckle as Wanda props her pillow up, too, with a sigh. 

She rests her head back, looking through the sunroof, and gazes at the stars. 

"Do you want me to turn off the music?" You ask, but Wanda shakes her head, hair falling from her ear as she does.

"No, I probably napped too much today." 

"Our sleep schedule is going to get fucked if we keep napping during the day," you snicker. "I guess we should find more things to do during the day than a hike. I was thinking maybe we could start going into town to do things."

"Like what?" Wanda asks.

You shrug. "Go to museums, actually eat at a restaurant, watch movies in a theatre. I don't know. Anything we want to, I guess."

Wanda gnaws on her lips because all those things sound like a date, and her fingers thrum against the floor in anticipation. She looks at you, blinking while you stare back, unsure.

"I'm cold," Wanda states, leaving you in confusion.

"Oh, uh..." You stutter, feeling your body tense. "Do you want more blankets? A sweater?"

Wanda stares at you with a tilt of her head. "No."

You press your lips together, opening the blanket just a little from where you are, and offer your arms to the other girl. Wanda may be using all the courage she has, and you realize now is not the time to be dense. 

And it's worth it when Wanda can't help but smile as she scoots closer into your arms as you hold her, pulling the blanket up to her shoulder. 

There's a certain tingle on your skin. A pit in your stomach, a warmth that spreads through your chest when Wanda's body presses against yours. The way she lies against across your chest while you cradle her in your arms. The smell of cinnamon and orange blossoms permeate the air you breathe, and even though you're in the middle of nowhere, you feel like you're home. 

Wanda sighs in contentment. She likes the way you don't say anything else, and the only words that float through your mind are lyrics from the song playing in the background.

The hours pass like it's nothing, and soon, the sun rises steadily. The sky becomes a palette of colors you've seen a million times. You've seen every color of the sky. But seeing everything again with Wanda is different.

You hold Wanda tighter in your arms, becoming more daring as your fingers trail across her arm covered by her shirt. The scent of her hair flirts with you as your fingers trail up her arm until you trace her bare collarbone. The way Wanda breathes is noticeable, filling her chest as it rises and holds. 

Your hand drops and Wanda tilts her head to look up at you.

The sky is no longer just pink and orange. It's cotton candy that trickles far and wide. It's the color that reflects off of Wanda's skin, hitting her eyes, and for a moment, you think you saw a glimpse into the future. 

"Why me?"

The question holds nothing but soft wondering. Within the words, Wanda suspects you mean why did she ask to come with you that day?

Why now?

Wanda licks her bottom lip.

"Why did you say yes?" She counters back. 

You don't say anything. You try to think of an answer, but nothing comes to your head. The truth is you don't know why. You just looked at her that day, and you couldn't have pictured yourself saying no. 

Wanda shifts, looking back at the sunrise. 

"Did Stephen ever tell you there's millions and millions of realities out there?"

You sigh with a grimace, "Yes, so many times."

Wanda chuckles raspily, and you feel the vibrations against your chest. 

"It's strange, isn't it? To think so many versions of you exist out there, that every reality would be different from the one we exist in today," Wanda lifts her hand from out the blanket, holding up and letting the sunlight filter through her fingers.

You don't say anything and only listen to Wanda because this may be the most she's spoken since coming on this trip.

"I loved Vision," Wanda says finally. "I don't think I will ever find a love I had with him again."

You blink, unsure what to make of that statement. You understand it, you really do. You'll always be understanding of her grief, and yet, your tight arms around her begin to feel awkward. 

Wanda chuckles again, dropping her hand back down on your arm to keep it in place. "And that's okay."

"I have lost so much," Wanda's breath shutters for a moment. "We both have."

You swallow slowly, trying to not like the pang of pain distract you. 

"But as much as I have lost, I've always gained something. I've lost my parents, and that led to gaining powers. I've lost my home country, but I gained a family with the Avengers. I've lost Pietro, and I gained Vision. I've lost Vis," Wanda swallows, "And I gained you."

"So, when you ask why you," Wanda licks her lips, "It's because I'm no stranger to loss. Even though grief has come to my door again, I know something good when I see it. And I saw you. I saw this moment."

"This moment?" You scrunch your brows together. It's such an odd moment to see, and yet so much of Wanda's behavior over the last six months made more sense. 

Wanda sits up, turning to face you as the blanket draped over her slides down her back. Hands pressed against the ground on either side of your legs, she leans in close. You catch specks of the sky in her eyes, but this one isn't just the cotton candy that's just outside. 

You catch specks of all the beautiful lush green trees you've seen. The sea and the sand the waves push up against. You see the white sun and shy hands that inch closer until they meet. 

A hand touches your jaw, shyly sliding further until Wanda holds your cheek. 

"Are you cold?" She murmurs, feeling the lack of warmth from sitting upright the entire night. 

"Yeah," You mumble as Wanda leans closer and closer until you can feel her breath on your lips. 

"I'll keep you warm," Wanda whispers, and you feel the brush of her lips. "Hold me closer."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"You know, I wish there was a way– that I could let her know. That we won." Clint looks over at Wanda. "We did it."

"She knows--they both do." The rim of Wanda's eyes is red as she looks out onto the lake. Clint gives her a side hug that she returns for a long minute.

"You know where to reach me if you need me," you mutter, turning to leave the two alone.

Wanda looks at your retreating form. You didn't shed a single tear at the funeral, but she did not blame you. She had recognized that kind of grief on herself once upon a time, and she knows it's the kind that hurts more than any crying could. 

Clint eventually bids his farewell and takes off, leaving her alone to gaze out onto the lake. 

More tears well up, and Wanda isn't sure if she should let them fall or will them to magically go back into her eyes. It seems she decided too slow, and the tears well over down her cheeks as someone comes to stand next to her. 

He takes a deep breath, holding his hands behind his back.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he politely passes his condolences. 

"Me too," Wanda says without breaking her view. 

It's silent for another minute.

"You know," Stephen squints as if that will let him see further. "I went through 14 million realities to see which one where we would win and only came out with one."

"If this is supposed to make me better, it's not--"

"Hear me out," Stephen cuts Wanda off. "In every reality that we manage to bring everyone back, including the one where we win, there was only one thing consistent."

Wanda laughs humorlessly. "And what's that?"

"You are grieving, yes, but," Stephen turns to face Wanda, causing her to turn to him as well. "You gain something so, so very beautiful."

Wanda's brows furrows, confused at what Stephen is trying to hint at. It isn't until he turns his attention to something that she turns too, stunned. 

It's you, slowly packing your car. 

"Strange, isn't it?" Stephen muses like he's talking to himself. "14 million realities, and every single one you return in, you gain her."

Wanda stares at you, unsure what to make of what Stephen is telling her.

"Why her?" She mumbles.

Stephen grins.

"I think you're a smart girl, Wanda," he tells her without answering her question. "I think if you let yourself, you'll see something good. You'll see her, even if you are grieving."

Stephen places his hand on her shoulder, giving her an encouraging squeeze before he walks away.

Wanda stands there, still looking at you while she tilts her head just to the side slightly. 

And she's not sure what happens, but she sees something in her head.

A cotton candy sky, the light barely visible. She sees pillows and blankets in the back of a car. She hears the same song playing over and over in the background. 

Wanda sees you.

She sees you in a light she's never had before, in a way she didn't think was ever possible. 

"I'm cold," you whine, and Wanda sees herself smiling as she leans closer. 

"I'll keep you warm," she sees herself bold and wanting. "Hold me closer."

[frostedfaves]

All Too Well

Masterlist

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: A new year leads to a new argument.

Warnings: angst

A/N: this was supposed to be a super angsty breakup fic inspired by Taylor Swift’s All Too Well, but apparently idk how to write sad shit anymore so enjoy whatever this is 😔 (on the bright side, I found a nickname for Wanda to use in my upcoming series 👀)

-

“Those aren’t even the lyrics!” Wanda shouted over the radio, her laughter nearly covering her speech like a blanket.

“Of course it is!” You reached over to turn down the volume on the radio. “Take it from someone who sang this song every day for a year during every single shower.”

“Well, it’s a shame your shampoo bottles never told you that you were serenading them with the wrong words.”

A loud laugh escaped you as both of your heads turned in the same moment, yours to gaze out the passenger window and hers to watch you. The orange and brown leaves that dropped from the trees were only part of the lovely scene in front of you, and Wanda thought the colors provided a wonderful background for her own movie. She got lost in admiring your features, wishing to run her thumb along your lips as a smile formed there, or place a palm against your cheeks, warmed by the sun. Her attention turned back to the road just in time to stop herself from passing a red light, throwing an arm across your torso to keep you from lurching forward against the seatbelt.

“Sorry,” she apologized with flushed cheeks, and you couldn’t help but poke one as you assured her everything was fine. Turns out the sun can bring warmth to fingers, too.

As the two of you made your way to your shared apartment, Wanda wished for your heated touch now, instead of the cold glare you directed to the windshield. She was grateful it was pointed toward the street for now, and she was tempted to drive on forever with the heat blasting until you defrosted. Anything to avoid the confrontation she knew was coming.

“What the hell was that?”

“Baby, please,” she sighed. “The new year just started. Can’t we wait until the sun comes up again and we’ve had some sleep?”

“I’ve waited long enough, Wanda.”

Her shoulders tensed and a shiver ran down her spine because your stare was focused on her now, and the ice made its way to your vocal chords, leaving an especially thick layer around her name. You hadn’t called her anything aside from ‘honeydew’ since your first date, and she endured the teasing from her team because seeing the sparkle in your eyes was worth it. Hearing you say her name now felt like being cursed.

“Can we at least wait until we get home?” she pleaded as she faced you after stopping at the red light. “I want to be able to look you in the eye without putting you in danger.”

“Fine.”

You broke away first to turn the radio volume up, turning your head to avoid her watery eyes. Her vulnerable gaze nearly melted away your resolve entirely, and you refused to let this go on any longer. Wanda forced herself to keep her own eyes on the road and the drive went on silently aside from the song pouring in through the speakers, neither of you bothering to fight over the correct lyrics. You were back at your building within a few minutes, and while you rode the elevator up from the parking garage, Wanda took the stairs. She had no idea what she was walking into, and she just needed to pretend everything was okay for a little bit longer.

When she opened the apartment door, your coat was already hung by the door and she could hear your bare feet padding along the wooden floor to the bedroom. She took her time hanging her own coat and slipping off her shoes, following you down the hall and nearly dropping them out of her hand when she saw you staring at her from the edge of the bed.

“What the hell was that?” you repeated, watching Wanda walk past to place her shoes in the closet.

“I’m going to need more than that, detka.” Her accent became more prominent as her nerves grew, a deep crease forming between her brows as she faced you and leaned against the opposite wall. “What are you asking about?”

“That woman asked about your girlfriend and you told her it was ‘nothing serious’.”

“I was just...saving face.” She kept her arms folded as she shrugged. “She’s friends with Tony and they talk all the time. If I would’ve been all obnoxious about our relationship, he would’ve made a big deal about it later.”

“You’ve been getting teased for ten months by Earth’s mightiest heroes over a nickname and expressing your love for your girlfriend is where you draw the line?!”

“Okay, I’m sorry! It was a mistake and it won’t happen again.” She pushed off the wall and walked forward to grab your hand, but you jumped off the bed and headed toward the kitchen before she could get close. “What--”

“You’ve stopped talking to me, too.”

“We’re literally talking now! We talked on Christmas Day--”

“Oh yeah, I really enjoyed that 30 second talk we had over pancake batter before the whole team stormed in and took over,” you huffed into the refrigerator while searching for something to drink.

“If you have a problem with the Avengers, just say it.”

“I love your team!” you cried out as you closed the refrigerator door. “I probably see more of them than I do you. Three weeks ago, I went to the tower because I hadn’t heard from you all day and I had to find out from the fucking spider kid that you volunteered to join some last minute mission. And you know what? We had dinner together and I talked to him for two hours, which is probably longer than I’ve talked to you since then.”

“I can’t help it if missions come up,” Wanda challenged as she took the glass of water you offered. “This is my job, just like you have yours.”

“I know, but you had your phone with you. At least send a text, let me know you’re okay.”

“I will. Is that it?” She watched your eyes avert from hers, sighing when you headed toward the couch in the living room instead of the bedroom. “It’s not, is it?”

“I just want to know why you haven’t been happy.” You finally met her gaze again when she stopped a few feet away.

“What? I’m happy.”

“Nothing’s been the same since that day you were driving and nearly ran the red light. That was in October, and it’s the beginning of January now.”

“You’re wrong,” Wanda insisted as she inched closer. “I’m happy.”

“I drove myself crazy here while you were gone on all these lengthy trips, trying to think of why you wanted to be so far away all the time. Maybe you weren’t feeling this anymore, or you’d found someone that made you feel more alive--”

“I told you I’m happy!”

In a split second, red filled her eyes and surrounded her hand as she sent her glass flying against the wall. You stared at the droplets of water running down the eggshell colored surface to the wooden floor, flinching when Wanda placed her hand on your thigh as she knelt in front of you and relaxing when you were met with her usual eye color.

“I’m sorry.” She squeezed gently as she sighed, never breaking eye contact. “I’ve just been worried. When we’re together, I tend to lose myself in your existence, and it isn’t safe. A few seconds more, and that day could’ve ended a lot differently.”

“I had my seatbelt on,” you reminded her as you placed your palm over her knuckles, and she shook her head. 

“There are a lot worse threats than a car accident, detka. I just fear that one day, I’ll be wrapped around you so tightly that I won’t have time to free myself and protect you from danger.”

“So your solution to protecting me more was to leave me totally alone with no warning?”

“Now that I’m hearing it with a clear head, it doesn’t sound like such a good plan,” she chuckled with a shake of her head.

“No, it doesn’t, honeydew.” You squeezed her hand with a smile that widened at the sight of Wanda’s. “What?”

“I just never thought I could miss a silly nickname so much.”

-

Tags: @littlegasps @peggycarter-steverogers @imnotasuperhero @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @creepingwolfberry @honeyvenable

[jeonsjiddies]

Show Me | pjm (m)

Summary - Jimin shows you how good he can make you feel.

Word Count - 2146

Pairing -  Jimin x reader

Genre - smut

Warnings - penetrative sex, exhibitionism, voyerism, dirty talk, dom jimin

a/n -  another re-write from a previous fandom. :)

“This project will be worth 30% of your grade.“ 

A normal Wednesday morning in  your government class just got a little more interesting.

“I assigned you partners,“ the professor continued as a collective groan echoed through the classroom. 

“Jeon Jungkook  and Kim Taehyung.” 

Jungkook and Tae high fived.

“Kim Seokjin and Min Yoongi.”  

“Jung Hoseok and Kim Namjoon.” 

Hoseok whooped quietly, grinning at Namjoon

“Y/N and Park Jimin.” She said and you froze, glancing over at the notorious bad boy who raised an eyebrow at you, as one corner of his mouth tilted up.

You couldn’t focus on the rest of the names that she read off because you were too busy panicking. How did you end up paired with Jimin? Was the teacher trying to kill you? You had nothing against the blonde haired risk-taker, quite the opposite. You had a huge crush on Jimin. From his long soft, pushed back locks, to his shimmering brown eyes, to his freakishly large thighs and strong frame. He was terrifyingly attractive, sex on legs, and you were nervous as hell to work with him.

“Please get together with your partners and discuss your strategies for this assignment.”  

Jimin smiled that devilish smile, beckoning you over with one finger. You gathered your books and stood, walking on wobbly legs towards the sinfully gorgeous boy.

“Hey.”  

“Hey,” you tried to sound normal.

“Don’t be scared, princess. I don’t bite - hard,” he grinned, sensing your uneasiness.

He leaned far into your personal space as he said it and you noticed the tangy scent of his cologne as you sucked in a breath. He even smelled like heaven.

“I’m- I’m not,” you said  quietly.

“You seem pretty nervous to me. Listen, just because I’ve got a reputation doesn’t mean I’m some lawless thug who-“ 

“No! I don’t think that!” you interjected, “I don’t have anything against you or your reputation.” 

“Then why are you acting like you could jump up and flee out the nearest exit if I move too fast?” he accused. 

“Social anxiety.”  

“Oh,” he said, The guilt apparent on his features.

“Yeah. So which amendment did you want to start with?” you asked,  getting focused and trying not to sniff him; he smelled so good.

 20 minutes later, you’d both picked out which amendments you’d be showcasing as having a lasting impact on the country, and which ones seemed out of date. The bell rang and you stood up to leave when Jimin placed a hand on your arm, his fingers on your bare skin burned in a delightful way.

“I’m sorry about earlier, I… I'm just so tired of being looked down on for where I come from,” he explained. 

“I could never look down on you, Jimin. You’re too tall,” you joked, earning a rare Jimin genuine smile, “ should we exchange numbers so we can work on the project?“  

“Oh don’t worry y/n, I’ll find you,” He grinned deviously. 

You flushed, watching him saunter down the hallway.

You organized records in alphabetical order a few nights later at your afterschool job. You didn’t hear the doorbell chime, so you nearly peed your pants when a soft, sultry voice whispered in your ear.

“Told you I’d find you.”

You whirled around, coming face to face with Jimin. He was dangerously close to you, if you just used your tiptoes, you could kiss him. Your heart beat like a hummingbirds in your chest.

“Hi,” you breathed out in a whisper.

“Hi,” he whispered back, gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips.

His tongue danced across his own lips, and he started to lean in. The doorbell chimed, breaking the spell you’d both been under and he stepped back quickly.

“So um, maybe tomorrow after school, you could come over and work on the government project?” he asked, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, sounds good. Can I ride with you though? I’m saving up for a car,”  you looked down. 

“Sure, meet me by the front door after your last lecturel.”

You watched him walk out the door, letting out the breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding.

You anxiously bounced your leg up and down during the last class of the day. You have been on edge all day. You were going to Jimin’s place. Would his roommates be home? Did he have roommates? Would you two be alone? So many of your naughty dreams had taken place in this seemingly imaginary place and this place was about to be real. You knew nothing sexual was actually going to happen, but you were still so nervous. The bell rang and you jumped out of your skin. It was time. You gathered your things, and walked to the front door, where Jimin was waiting for you. Hoseok and Jin  were by his side, all of them laughing.

“Hey y/n,” Jimin smiled. 

“Hey Y/N,” Jin and Hoseok said at the same time, both of them shouting “jinx!”

You giggled and waved hello.  Jimin threw an arm around your shoulders and walked with you to his bike. All eyes were on you, questions swimming through the halls of your university. People whispered to their friends and stared and ashamed.

“Everyone’s looking at us,” you whispered . 

“Good,” he winked and helped you onto the bike. 

You pressed your body close to his, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. He sped out of the parking lot, leaving the spectators in the dust. You buried your head into his back, trying not to watch the lines on the road flash by. When he pulled up to the apartment complex, you didn’t let go for a moment.

“You ok?”  

“Yeah, just give me a second. I’m a little woozy.” 

He got off the bike and looked at you for a moment, then picked you up and carried you inside.

“Put me down!” you shriek-laughed. 

“Didn’t want you to stumble since you were ‘woozy’,” he shrugged, plopping you into the couch. 

You hated to admit it, but being held in his lean, strong arms make you feel alive, like adrenaline have been shot straight into your heart. You already missed the warm, safe feeling. You sighed. 

“So… hungry? Thirsty?”  

“I’m okay, thanks,” you smiled and he sat next to you on the couch, far too close but not nearly close enough. 

 As you typed out which amendments were outdated, you were hyper aware of Jimins’ every movement. It was driving you crazy, being so close to him. You both chatted about random topics, as you worked. About halfway through, you stood up to stretch and take a break, as did Jimin. You took a step towards the kitchen for some water, tripping over your backpack, but Jimin’s strong arms darted out to catch you. Your hands on his chest, his arms around you, that’s where it really began. You were being electrocuted by his touch. You both stayed like that, lost in each other’s eyes. 

Jimin moved in slow motion, lips barely grazing yours in feather soft brushes. Gentle, sweet. You were floating on air. Then, the wild fire broke out, Jimin’s lips crashing down on yours with so much need and desire, you could barely keep up. He shoved you against a wall, hands roaming everywhere on your body, lighting you ablaze. You moaned into his mouth, able to stop it. His hands on your body sent you into another level of lust, another level of craving him. He bit down harshly on your neck creating a gasp from you. He blew cold air on it, licking the sore red spot. The stinging turned to tingling, sending shivers down your spine.

“Everyone’s going to see these tomorrow know that you’re mine,” he pulled your hips closer roughly.

“I’ve been watching you, princess. I’ve seen you in those pretty little skirts, completely unaware of all the boys watching you. Unaware of what you’re doing. Teasing. I’ve wanted this from the day I laid eyes on you. So many nights alone I would think of your pretty plump lips wrapped around my cock,” he groaned. 

His words had you soaking.

“Why did you wait?”    

“Didn’t think you’d want someone like me,” he shrugged. 

“Do you know how many nights I’ve touched myself to the thought of you, Jimin? How many times I’ve moaned your name, wishing your hands were the ones touching me? You’re so sexy, so brave. I’ve wanted you inside me for so long,” you whispered hotly 

“You got off thinking about me?”  

You bit your lip, nodding. 

“Show me,” he grinned mischievously. 

You bravely took his hand and had him guide you to his room. You crawled onto his bed as he stood, watching you. Your eyes locked on his, you began undressing. Slowly, you removed everything you were wearing, your hands going to your breasts. You kneaded them, rolling your nipple between your forefinger and thumb. 

“Mmm...” you closed your eyes, lolling your head back, “Fuck, Jimin.” 

Your hands slowly traveled down your body, until they landed by your aching heat. Your fingers danced along your slit, then you pushed one inside yourself, arching your back and groaning as you circled it around your clit. Jimin’s breath hitched as he watched you pleasure yourself for him. You added another finger, pumping it in and out slowly, squirming on Jimin’s bed. You’d done this a thousand times, but with Jimin’s face watching your every move, it was so much more thrilling, it was erotic. You began moving your fingers faster, his name falling from your lips as you got closer, your orgasm crashing over you. 

“Mmm… oh gosh, Jimin,” you moaned loudly, eyes connected with his, and you could hear his heavy breathing. 

You lay there, naked body on full display for Jimin. His eyes had darkened, his deep brown now resembling black. 

“Shit princess, that was so fucking sexy,“ he groaned, stepping towards the bed, “but I can make you feel even better.” 

“Show me,” you purred. 

Jimin sprang into action, flinging his shirt off and unbuckling his jeans faster than you’d ever seen anyone move. Down to his boxers, he crawled on top of you, kissing you rough and deep and so good. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. His boxer-covered erection ground against your dripping core and you groaned. 

“You like that baby? Like how my big fat cock feels against that tight little pussy?” He moaned in your ear. 

“Yes, fuck,” you whimpered, “Jimin, I need you.” 

Jimin grabbed a condom from inside his night stand and slipped it on quickly, aligning himself with your entrance. He slowly pushed in, and oh gosh it stung. He was so big. He lay still for a moment, watching your face for a sign you were ready to move. When you nodded, he slowly pulled out of you, then gently thrust back in. The stinging turned to this amazing, warm, delicious feeling and Jimin started moving faster, whispering dirty things in your ear, telling you how good you felt around him. 

“So beautiful, you take it so good baby,” he encouraged you, but you couldn’t answer. You were a moaning mess underneath him.

Jimin hit every good spot, and knew exactly what he was doing as he pounded into you, and you’d never felt such bliss in your life. The fire deep inside of you was one that you weren’t sure could be quenched. He filled you up so completely, bringing you absolute ecstasy. Jimin was made to fuck, and he was amazing at it. You writhed underneath him, unable to keep still from the insane amounts of pleasure coursing through you. You knew you were close, and so did Jimin, his hand reaching down to draw figure 8’s on your clit.  When your orgasm came, it was like the entire world was shaking. You screamed out his name, back aching into his body, feeling like your soul was leaving yours. You were flying. You felt high. Jimin filled the condom seconds later, panting as his body collapsed on top of yours. He rolled next to you and gathered you in his arms. 

“Holy shit,” he breathed, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“Agreed,” you nodded, snuggling into his embrace. 

He smirked, and kissed your cheek. You blushed and hid your face in his neck, making him laugh. 

“How can you be shy after all that?” 

“Shut up,” you mumbled into his skin. 

“Y/N?” He asked quietly.

“Hmmm?” 

“I want you, all the time. I don’t want to have to let you go after this, will you be mine?” he asked, and when you were quiet ( simply because you were in shock) he added “I promise I’ll treat you right, like you deserve.”

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, smiling at him as you nodded, telling him you would be his. 

“Show me.” 

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: I loved your fantastic account of the battle of Waterloo and how each nation came to define the rest of the century for all the European countries in different ways. However what are your thoughts about the battle itself? Did Wellington win it or did Napoleon lose it? What were the turning points that you think determined the fate of the battle?

Thank you for reading and liking my previous post on Waterloo. I did heavily lean into studying ancient classical warfare when I was studying Classics but I only got into Napoleonic warfare because of a father who was (and still remains) big Napoleonic warfare military enthusiast. Through his keen eyes as a former serving military man, I also looked at the battle as a soldier might as well putting on my academic critical thinking cap. It’s a popular parlour game not just in Sandhurst but also in the officers’ mess (where those regiments actually fought at Waterloo) and around dinner tables - in my experience anyway.

I’ve always seen such speculative and counterfactual questions as an amusing diversion. I’ve never seriously looked at the detail until I came to France and unexpectedly interacted with Napoleonic scholars as well as soldiers (the cultured and historically well read ones at least) that forced me to think more about it. I’ve always been of the ‘if the Prussians hadn’t arrived in time to save Wellington’ school; and this was always enough to get me by in any conversation.

But my vanity was stung by interacting with one of my downstairs neighbours, a high decorated retired army general, with whom I played a weekly game of chess over a glass of wine during the Covid lockdown in Paris. He didn’t spare me as he knew so much detail about the battle. But a typical failing of French thinking is to pontificate around generalities rather than specific reasons. So for him it came down to pooh-poohing the generalship of Wellington (the rain saved him) and lauding the emperor (he had haemorrhoids and thus a bad day at the office). So rain and haemorrhoids were the decisive factors in determining the outcome of the battle of Waterloo.

It was clear I had to raise my game. So I’ve been reading more when I could.

I had recently finished reading a wonderful book ‘The Longest Afternoon: The 400 Men Who Decided the Battle of Waterloo’ by the Cambridge historian Brendan Simms. The book came out in 2015 but it’s been lying on my shelf for these past few years until I actually took this slim book to read on my one of my business trips.  

The idea behind this short book is so superbly useful. It places to one side the huge, cinematic panorama of history and instead concentrates on one particular farmhouse, on one particular day: 18 June 1815. History is vivified, lifts itself off the page and into the mind, when a historian of Brendan Simm’s immense stature zooms in on the details - and here the details are compelling.

For the course of one day, 400 soldiers, wet, cold, in some cases hungover, who had bivouacked for the night in an abandoned farmhouse at La Haye Sainte, near a crucially strategic crossroads, found themselves staring down the massed barrels of Napoleon’s vanguard – and held them off.  On June 18, 1815, Wellington established his position and sent one battalion and part of a second to the farmhouse under the command of Major Baring. Napoléon’s initial attack was a direct assault that surrounded the house and came near to breaking Wellington’s line; but it held, and the legendary charge of two British heavy cavalry brigades drove back the French.

This is a detailed account of the defence of La Haye Sainte, a walled stone farmhouse forward of Wellington’s centre. Its defenders were the King’s German Legion, which (despite the British army’s penchant for oddball names) was genuinely German. Britain harboured many German expatriates who detested Napoléon, a number augmented in 1803 when he occupied Hanover and disbanded its army. That very year two ambitious officers recruited the first members of the King’s German Legion, which grew into a corps of some 14,000 men and served with distinction at Copenhagen, Walcheren and in Spain before its apotheosis at Waterloo.

Ordered to capture the farmhouse, Marshal Michel Ney - commanding Napoléon’s left wing - obeyed but became preoccupied with his famously unsuccessful cavalry attack. Reminded of the order two hours later, he dispatched infantry that reached the house and set it on fire. The men inside controlled the blaze and continued to fight until Ney took personal charge of a furious assault that succeeded only when the defenders ran out of ammunition and withdrew, having held out for six hours. Had they not defended it so stoutly and if the farm had fallen any sooner then Napoleon would have been able to get at Wellington’s troops before his Prussian reinforcements arrived, and in all likelihood Waterloo would have been a French victory instead; it would now be the name of a train station in Paris rather than London.

I doubt there is a definitive answer to this question which is why certain people love arguing about it because it’s so open ended in terms of cause and effect. You can pick on any episodic event and hail that as the decisive turning point. It’s one reason why we are so fortunate to have so many well researched history books on the battle of Waterloo to replenish the issues for a newer generation to argue with past generations.

If I were to go beyond the ‘if the Prussians hadn’t arrived to save Wellington’ line then I would point to ten decisive turning points which in themselves might not have changed the outcome but taken together certainly influenced the final outcome of one of the most important and iconic battles in history.

Napoleon gives Marshal Davout a desk job

6 June 1815 – All commanders need a good chief of staff to ensure that their intentions are translated into clear orders. Unfortunately for Napoleon – as what is arguably one of the most decisive battles in European history loomed – his trusted chief of staff, Marshal Berthier, was no longer available. Berthier had sworn an oath of loyalty to Louis XVIII – and then fallen to his death from a window – so the job was given to Marshal Soult.

Soult was an experienced field commander but he was certainly no Berthier. Napoleon’s two main field commanders were also far from ideal. Emmanuel Grouchy had little experience of independent command. Michel Ney’s heroic command of the French rear-guard during the retreat from Moscow led Napoleon to dub him “the bravest of the brave”, but by 1815 he was clearly burnt out.

Worse still, when on 6 June Napoleon ordered his generals to assemble with their troops on the Belgian border he chose to leave behind Louis-Nicolas Davout, his ‘Iron Marshal’, as minister of war. The emperor needed someone loyal to oversee affairs at home but the decision not to take with him the ablest general at his disposal would deprive him of the one commander who might have made a difference.

Constant Rebecque ignores orders

15 June – In June 1815 Napoleon assembled 120,000 men on the Belgian border. Opposing him were 115,000 Prussians under  Field Marshal Blücher and an allied force of about 93,000 men under Wellington. Faced with such odds, Napoleon’s best chance of victory was to get his army between his two enemies and defeat one before turning on the other. On 15 June his army crossed the frontier at Charleroi and headed straight for the gap between the two allied armies.

Wellington was taken completely by surprise: “Napoleon has humbugged me” he said. Uncertain what Napoleon’s intentions were, he ordered his army to concentrate around Nivelles, over 12 miles away from the Prussian position at Ligny. This would have left the two allied armies dangerously separated but fortunately for Wellington, a staff officer in the Dutch army, Baron Constant Rebecque, understood what was actually needed. He disregarded Wellington’s order and instead sent a force to occupy the key crossroads of Quatre Bras, much nearer to the Prussians.

D’Erlon misses the show

16 June – Two battles were fought on 16 June. While Marshal Ney took on Wellington’s army as it hurriedly tried to concentrate around Quatre Bras, Napoleon led the main French force against the Prussians at Ligny. Blücher’s inexperienced Prussians were given a severe mauling but despite this they managed to fall back in relatively good order.

This was partly due to a disastrous mix-up on the part of the French. Confusion over orders saw General D’Erlon’s corps instructed to leave Ney’s army at Quatre Bras and join the fighting at Ligny only to be recalled as soon as they got there. The result was that 16,000 Frenchmen who could have intervened decisively actually took part in neither battle.

Blücher stays in touch

17 June – Wellington succeeded in beating back Ney at Quatre Bras but Blücher’s defeat left the British general with a large French army on his eastern flank. He was forced to fall back northwards towards Brussels. The Prussians were retreating as well. Normally a retreating army tries to withdraw along its lines of communication (ie the route back to its base). Had the Prussians done this they would have headed eastwards. The two allied armies would then have been even further apart and Wellington would have been overwhelmed. But instead of doing that, the Prussians retreated northwards towards Wavre. It was to be a crucial move. The two allied armies stayed in contact and on 17 June Wellington was able to fall back to the ridge at Mont St Jean, and prepare to make a stand there until Blücher’s Prussians could come to his aid.

The weather takes a hand

17 June – The night before the battle was marked by a thunderstorm of biblical proportions. Rain lashed down, turning roads into quagmires and trampled fields into seas of mud.

It was a night of tremendous rain and cloudbursts. Wellington said that even in the monsoons in India, he’d never known rain like it. To wake up cold and damp, wet and terrified, then you have this slaughter in a very small space. By evening there were over 200,000 men struggling to kill each other within four square miles.

Private Wheeler of the 51st Regiment later wrote: “The ground was too wet to lie down… the water ran in streams from the cuffs of our Jackets… We had one consolation, we knew that the enemy were in the same plight.” Wheeler was right of course – the rain would inconvenience all three armies, not least the Prussians as they struggled along narrow country lanes to link up with Wellington.

It’s often said that Napoleon delayed starting the battle in order to allow the ground to dry out but the chief cause of the delay was probably the need to allow his units, many of whom had bivouacked some distance away, to take up their allotted places. Napoleon enjoyed a considerable advantage in artillery at Waterloo but this was lessened by the fact that the mud made it difficult to move his guns around and that cannonballs, normally designed to bounce along until they hit something, or someone, often disappeared harmlessly into the soggy ground. Macdonnell closes the gates

11:30am, 18 June – On 18 June the two armies prepared to do battle. Most of Wellington’s troops were sheltered from enemy fire on the reverse slope of the Mont St Jean ridge. The position was protected by three important outposts: a group of farms to the left, the farm of La Haye Sainte in front and the farmhouse of Hougoumont to the right.

At about 11.30am the French launched their first attack – an assault on Hougoumont. This soon developed into a battle within a battle as the French threw in ever more men in a bid to capture the vital chateau. They nearly succeeded: led by a giant officer nicknamed ‘the Smasher’, a group of French soldiers worked their way round to the rear of the chateau, forced open its north gate and burst inside.

James Macdonnell, the garrison commander, acted quickly. He gathered a group of men and they heaved the gate shut again. The French inside the chateau were then hunted down and killed. Only a young drummer boy was spared. Hougoumont was to remain in allied hands all day and Wellington later commented that the entire result of the battle depended on the closing of those gates.

Ney loses his head after his cavalry founders

1.30pm – The infantry of D’Erlon’s corps finally saw action as they attacked the left wing of Wellington’s army. As they reached the crest of the ridge they were met by the infantry of Sir Thomas Picton’s division. Picton, a foul-mouthed Welshman who rode into battle in a civilian coat and round-brimmed hat, was shot dead but his men stopped the French, who were then driven back by Wellington’s cavalry.

The next major French attack was very different. Ney unleashed his cavalry in a mass frontal attack, and thousands of Napoleon’s famous cuirassiers – big men in steel breastplates riding big horses – thundered up the hill. But Wellington’s infantry stayed calm. Forming squares, they presented in all directions a hedge of bayonets that no horse could be made to charge.

Ney needed to call the cavalry off or support them with infantry but he lost his head and threw more horsemen into the fray. When he abandoned these fruitless attacks, Wellington’s line was still unbroken, two hours had been wasted, and the Prussians were arriving in force.

The Prussians arrive

4.30pm – Blücher had promised to come to Wellington’s aid, and kept his word. Napoleon had detached nearly a third of his army under Grouchy to prevent the Prussians joining up with Wellington but Grouchy failed to do this and, by mid-afternoon, the first Prussian units were in action on the battlefield.

At about 4.30pm they launched their first attack upon the key village of Plancenoit near the rear of Napoleon’s main position. This savage battle would rage for over three hours. Faced with this, Napoleon was forced to send many of his remaining reserves to shore up his position – leaving him with precious few troops to exploit any success his troops might enjoy against Wellington.

Napoleon says no, and von Zeithen turns back

6.30pm – At about 6.30pm the French captured La Haye Sainte. Posting artillery and skirmishers around the farm, they unleashed a storm of shot, shell and musketry into Wellington’s exposed centre. The regiments there suffered horrendous casualties, but Wellington’s line held – just.

Ney asked for reinforcements to press home his advantage but Napoleon refused. Instead he sent troops to recapture Plancenoit which had just fallen to the Prussians. Von Zeiten’s Prussian I Corps arrived on the scene. These much-needed reinforcements were set to join Wellington when a Prussian aide de camp rode up with an order from Blücher instructing them to head south and support his troops at Plancenoit. Von Zeiten obeyed. Realising that Von Zeiten’s troops were desperately needed on the ridge, Baron von Müffling, Wellington’s Prussian liaison officer, galloped after Von Zeiten and pleaded with him to ignore this new order and stick to the original plan. The Prussian general turned back and took his place on Wellington’s left, enabling the duke to shift troops over to reinforce his crumbling centre. The crisis had passed.

Napoleon’s last roll of the dice ends in panic

7.30pm – With Plancenoit back in French hands the stage was set for the final act in the drama. At about 7.30pm Napoleon unleashed his elite imperial guard in a last desperate bid for victory. But it was too late – they were hopelessly outnumbered and Wellington was ready for them. His own troops had been sheltering from the French fire by lying down but when the two large columns of French guardsmen reached the crest of the ridge Wellington ordered his own guards to stand up. One British guardsman describes the scene: “Whether it was (our) sudden appearance so near to them, or the tremendously heavy fire we threw into them but La Garde, who had never previously failed in an attack, suddenly stopped.”

Meanwhile Sir John Colborne of the 52nd Light Infantry wheeled his regiment round to attack the flank of the first French column while General Chasse ordered his Dutch and Belgian troops forward against the other. Soon both French columns had withered away under the deadly fire. Their defeat led to widespread panic in the French army: amid cries of “La Garde recule” (“the Guard is retreating”) it dissolved into a disorderly retreat mercilessly harried by the Prussians. “The nearest-run thing you ever saw in your life,” as Wellington described the battle, was over.

This isn’t an exhaustive list but it will do.

Waterloo was a watershed moment for Europe, and indeed the world. The end of the Napoleonic Wars heralded a peace in Europe which was not broken until the outbreak of World War One in 1914. In the century following the Battle of Waterloo an increased respect developed for the figure of the soldier. True the Battle became mythologised in the nineteenth century and is now embedded in our cultural memory as one of the great British success stories.

We still celebrate Waterloo because it was a great British victory - even if we had a little bit of help from the Prussians. It embodied the British bulldog spirit and marked the moment we finally overcame Napoleon and his empire after a decade of being at war.

The ramifications from Waterloo and the Napoleonic Wars are still felt today in contemporary European politics. I think because of this the battle continues to fascinate and to court intense discussion and disagreement.

No doubt my French neighbour the retired army general and I will continue to stubbornly argue our differing viewpoints until the wine bottle empties. But we both agree that we would enjoy having dinner with Napoleon and talk about his military campaigns. I admire Napoleon a little more having read more and for living in France. He’d be a very amusing and stimulating companion.

In many ways, he was also an enlightened and intelligent ruler. His Code Napoleon is an extremely enlightened law code. At the same time this is a man who had a very, very low threshold for boredom. I think he was addicted to war.

General Robert E. Lee, at Fredericksburg said, “It is well that war is so dreadful, otherwise we would grow too fond of it.”

Napoleon would never have agreed with that. War was his drug. There’s no evidence that Wellington enjoyed war. He said after Waterloo, and I believe him, “I pray to God that I have fought my last battle.” He spent much of the battle saying to the men, “If you survive, if you just stand there and repel the French, I’ll guarantee you a generation of peace.” He thought the point of war was peace. And he sure gave not just Britain but also an entire European continent some respite from the spilling of blood on a battlefield.

Thanks for your question.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By My Side (Part 2)

Summary: Jensen and the reader grow more tense with each other at the cabin but a revelation leads to a change in more than just location...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Word Count: 4,300ish

Warnings: language, mention of underage drinking/accidental death, angst

A/N: Enjoy!

_________

Twenty Hours Later

“Welcome home,” said Jensen, climbing out of his SUV the same time as you. You raised an eyebrow as you looked at the cabin in front of you. “You gonna carry your shit or what? Bodyguard, not your butler.”

“When you said cabin, I thought-”

“I told you. We’re off the grid. Most off the grid people don’t have quartz countertops and crown molding in their homes,” he said. “This is as good as I could get last second.”

“As long as it’s clean,” you said. He laughed and you stared back at him. “What?”

“Okay princess. There ain’t no cleaning service out here. You want something cleaned in there, you do it yourself,” he said. He slung a duffel bag over his shoulder and tossed one at you, nearly knocking you to the ground. “I’ll even let you pick which room you want.”

“Might take the kidnapping at this point,” you said, sighing as you followed him across the dirt yard. “We drove back in here for like an hour.”

“Hour and a half actually. Nobody’s finding us,” he said. He grabbed a key from under the rock by the door and undid the lock, swinging the door open wide. “Home sweet home.”

You followed him inside and cocked your head.

“Okay, this place is a lot nicer than I was expecting.”

“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, tossing a bag back towards a hall. You set your bag down on the kitchen table, narrowing your eyes at a picture on the wall. There was a little boy with a fishing pole and a pair of familiar green eyes staring back. 

“Is this your cabin?” you asked, nodding to the photo.

“It’s in the family. Dad let me have it when I got out of the service,” he said. “I needed some alone time to decompress a bit. It’s safe. Trust me.”

“You were a cute kid. Too bad you’re sort of an asshole now,” you said.

“You were an asshole first,” he said with a shrug.

“I’m not a fan of some stranger coming into my life and telling me how to live it,” you said.

“I’m not telling you how to live your life, Y/N. That’s not my job. Keeping you safe is,” he said. “There’s two bedrooms. We have to share a bathroom.”

“Alright,” you said, Jensen pushing open a few solid wood doors. One was furnished a bit plainly and had a queen size bed, the other a set of bunkbeds and a full bed shoved against the wall. 

“Take it,” he said, nodding towards the larger room.

“You’re bigger than me,” you said.

“Yeah, well that’s true but you’re also paying me. Take the bigger bed. The couch is a pullout anyways. Go on,” he said. You sighed and set your bag down on the bench, Jensen tossing his bag in the other room. “I need to go into town and finish getting supplies. Before I do that, we need to go over a few ground rules.”

“Of course we do,” you said, plopping back on the bed and watching a cloud of dust appear in the air.

“There’s a first aid kit in the cabinet over the fridge. There’s an emergency satellite phone there also that is to only be used in a real emergency. Washer and dryer we use once a week. There’s a solar panel on the back of the cabin that’ll help save us gas. We’re going to try and limit needing to use the generator more than we need to. There’s not much in the way of hot water. There’s a lake nearby and a few trails you can walk around but they’re probably overgrown at this point. Unless you’re in danger, never leave the premises. If you need something that’s not here or on the list, tell me now. I want to limit trips to town to once a month if possible.”

“Cleaning supplies,” you said as you sat up. “This place is dusty.”

“Alright. I’ll be back in about four hours,” he said, turning to leave. “There’s a shotgun in the gun safe. Key is in the nightstand drawer. Try to keep out of trouble.”

He didn’t look back as he left, the door opening and shutting, the sound of an engine turning on and slowly back away.

“Well. Might as well try to make this place more livable in the meantime.”

Four Hours Later

“Hey. I’m back,” said Jensen. You lifted your head up from the couch, Jensen flipping on the light switch. “You don’t have to sit in the dark.”

“You said to save the generator.”

“During the day. It’s after eight,” he said. He made a few trips in and out before he finally locked the door after himself. His nose twitched and he glanced over at you. “It doesn’t smell as musty in here.”

“A wet towel works when you don’t have a swiffer,” you said.

“I grabbed fast food,” he said, setting a bag down on the table. “Eat up. Last take out for a while.”

“I was thinking while you were gone,” you said, Jensen putting things away while you took out a burger and a box of fries.

“I bet that was difficult,” he mumbled.

“You know I’m not gonna stay here if you’re gonna be an ass.”

“I frankly don’t give two fucks. I’m here for money. You want to go do this job back home, that’s fine with me,” he said.

“Well fuck you,” you said. You got up and went outside, not getting too far from the cabin before it was pitch black. You stopped by the end of the truck, staring at the darkness you knew was the dirt trail that would eventually get you to the main road.

“Don’t be an idiot,” said Jensen as he stepped outside.

“Why do you care? I already paid you,” you said. “You know what? Why don’t you just go and leave me here by myself. That way you don’t have to hang out with the dumbass actress.”

“I never said you were a dumbass.”

“You literally said that thinking was difficult for me not two minutes ago. Maybe I don’t know every little thing about whatever the fuck badass shit you learned in murder school but I am not the helpless bimbo you think I am.”

“Do not trivialize taking a life. You have no idea what it does to you.”

“I know a thing or two. Don’t assume you know a thing about me.”

“I had a full background worked up on you. You never-”

“The summer I was a camp counselor? You remember reading about that in your little background check? Another counselor drowned at camp that year. I know a thing or two.”

“Drowning is not the same as-”

“You have no clue what I’m capable of.”

“What? You saying you did it?” he asked, crossing his arms at you. 

“It was an accident. It could have happened to any single one of us,” you said. “Don’t use that whiny little bitch excuse for being a hardass. People die and sometimes it’s your fault. It doesn’t give you a free for all to be an ass.”

“An accident isn’t the same thing,” he said. He walked over and narrowed his eyes. “Inside. Now.”

“No. I should have followed my first instinct and fired you,” you said. You spun back around, barely getting a step in as strong arms wrapped around you and lifted you off the ground. “Hey! Put me down!”

“You’re a freaking idiot,” he said as he carried your squirming self back inside. He set you down at the table, shoving your shoulder when you tried to get up. “Eat and go to bed.”

“I’m not-”

“Do you have any idea why I’m a hardass? Why that might be? If I give a shit about you, I can’t do my job because then I’m going to worry. I’m going to worry about how you’re feeling and I don’t have time for that. You had a scare, fine. I calmed you down. Out here, you have to suck it up and deal on your own. I will keep you safe but we’re not friends. We’re a boss and employee and that’s it. Eat your damn dinner and go to sleep.”

He grabbed the bag with the remainder of the food and went into the other bedroom, slamming the door behind him. 

“Dick,” you said quietly. Ten minutes later you were changed into your pajamas and crawled under the blankets, staring out the dark window. “I just wanna go home.”

You didn’t speak when you made your way into the kitchen the next morning. Jensen was sat at the table with some rugged looking laptop and a cup of coffee. It probably worked off a satellite if you had to guess. You poured a cup from the pot for yourself before heading outside with it. You walked over to the dock on the small pond nearby, staring out at the calm water as you sipped on the warm liquid.

“You didn’t kill anyone you know,” you heard behind you. You didn’t turn but did hear one of the boards creak. “Being unable to save a guy who shouldn’t have been out there in the first place doesn’t make you a murderer.”

“I was on lifeguard duty that day,” you said.

“Yeah. That day. You weren’t at work when it happened. No body made that guy go underage drinking and swimming in the middle of the night. In a thunderstorm.”

“We were all drinking. No one was paying attention to the storm. It was the first and last time I’ve ever been drunk.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It was no one’s,” he said.

“I know. You think I should get over it,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself in the cool air.

“I was going to say, it wasn’t your fault but I get feeling responsible for things that aren’t your responsibility.”

“I guess,” you said. “You find out who this person is yet?”

“No. I’m going to be spending most of my time working at that. Don’t go too far from the cabin, alright?” he said. He began to walk away and you turned your head, looking him up and down.

“I thought you didn’t want me going outside,” you said.

“Not alone at night, no. You can’t see your surroundings. During the day, stay within eye sight of the cabin and I think it’s acceptable for you to be on your own a bit.”

“Jensen,” you said. He turned and looked at you, waiting for you. “If I pay you more will you at least try to be a little nicer like you were just now?”

“Listen to what I say and I’ll be the nicest guy in the world,” he said, heading back to the cabin. “You want breakfast, make your own.”

“Good chat, Jensen,” you said, shaking your head at him. 

When you’d finished with your coffee you popped inside to put on some clothes better suited for outside. He gave you a quick glance before you slipped on some sneakers and had a hand on the door.

“Ah ah,” he said. The chair scratched against the floor and next thing you knew, he was right there, reaching into his back pocket. He held up a small little thing and pushed a button, flipping a blade out. “Switch blade. From now on, this doesn’t leave your side ever. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night and you’re taking a piss. It goes with you.”

“Keep it with me. Understood,” you said. He put it in your palm and nodded.

“Open it.” You flipped it open and stared at him. “Where would you use it?”

“Maybe I’ll stab the guy in the dick. How’s that sound?” you asked. He smiled a little and looked away.

“Not a bad choice. Vulnerable points if you have time to think. Aim low. Up here, rib cage will try to do its job. It may hurt but not incapacitate. Down low, you got better odds. All else fails, just try to stab something.”

“I got it,” you said, slipping it into your pocket. He took hold of your arm as you started to leave and you groaned. “What now?”

“The keys to the truck are under the rock by the corner of the house. The flat one. If you have to get out of here for some reason and I can’t take you, you take yourself and don’t think twice,” he said.

“I understand,” you said. 

“Well...enjoy your day,” he said. He dropped your arm and went back to his computer. You headed outside and started to explore before he could come up with even more rules for you to follow.

Four Hours Later

You were stood on the edge of the shore, trying to teach yourself to skip rocks on the water when you heard a rustling behind you. Your head shot back over your shoulder, Jensen wearing a strange smirk on his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“You’re not very good at that,” he said, picking up a flatter rock. “You need to flick your wrist more.”

“You know how to do everything, don’t you.”

“I spent more than a few summers here. Not a whole lot to do,” he said. “Got it all the way out to the catskills over there once.”

“You’re not worried about my lack of rock skipping skills,” you said. He shook his head and shot a rock out, getting a few skips off before he stood by your side. “I can take it. What’d you find out?”

“How often do you read in detail the contracts your manager gives you?” he asked.

“For my shows, word for word. Appearances, I skim sometimes. Why?”

“You sign anything with Boom stunt services lately?” he asked.

“I signed some insurance thing I think, so I could do a few stunts on the show,” you said. Jensen nodded and crossed his arms. “What?”

“Your manager lied to you. He thought you were getting stuck in a rut with your show, your wildly successful show, so he hired a stunt man, one you signed off on and agreed to fake kidnap you. Even the drugging part of it. To help your image. Make you appear strong but vulnerable. You actually got a lot of offers recently for good movies after what’s happened.”

“My manager…” you trailed off, balling your hands up. You stormed back towards the cabin, Jensen on your heels. “I’m gonna fucking kill him! What the fuck is wrong with him!”

“Technically, you did sign a document saying you understood the arrangement,” said Jensen. “But obviously not. Based on what I’ve found and saw happening before, there’s no credible threat against you. My suggestion would be a lawyer at this point.”

“Can you take me home now please, Jensen,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut.

“I’ll load up the truck. We’ll be back tonight.”

Later That Night

“Y/N,” said Jensen as you wandered straight over to your liquor cabinet when you got home. “He’s quitting and paying a substantial amount for you to not press charges as well as covering all of your moving costs and my pay. You don’t have anyone after you. I know it doesn’t feel like it but consider it a win.”

“I moved out of a house I loved that I can’t go back to, I’m far away from my friends, the one person in this industry I’m supposed to trust hurt me and this has been nothing but a complete waste of your time. I’m sorry, Jensen,” you said as you poured yourself a double.

“You didn’t waste my time,” he said as you sat on the counter, knocking back the liquor. He walked into the kitchen and took the bottle by your side, pouring himself a glass. He sipped his slowly, your head ducking down. “I would like to stay on as your bodyguard if you’ll allow it.”

“For what?” you asked. 

“Protection for you, same as before. This time though, I’ll make sure to keep you safe from the people you trust,” he said. You raised your head, Jensen licking his lips. “Managers, agents, anyone. The only person I will trust is you. You let me be the asshole bodyguard, scrutinize the people you work with. This never has to happen again.”

“Why would you do that? You don’t like me,” you said. He finished off his glass and set it aside, stepping right in front of you and staring you in the eye.

“I don’t recall saying that.”

“We aren’t friends. We’re a boss and employee. Your words,” you said.

“I still don’t hear the words I don’t like you in there,” he said.

“I can’t trust you to take care of me, protect me, if I think you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

“I told you. It’s very difficult to do my job if I care about you,” he said. “But the situation has changed. The threat is smaller. Safer. I can be friendlier...if you don’t question when I ask you to do something. My job is to protect you. You have to trust that all I am ever trying to do is keep you out of harm’s way. If we can agree to that, we can find a good rhythm, one where you don’t even notice I’m there and one where I know you’re okay. The threat before might not have been real but it exposed a problem. As long as you are living alone, you need someone here, just in case.”

“We will negotiate a new contract, one I can end anytime I so choose, and will detail when and when not you are on the clock.”

“Negotiating with you will be fun,” he said with a smirk. “We have a deal?”

“Do you really think I need a full time bodyguard?”

“We can negotiate that,” he said.

“I’m serious.”

“I think powerful, pretty, single women should use the advantages available to them to protect themselves.”

“We’ll talk about it,” you said. He smiled and headed for his bedroom, your gaze following him as he walked out of view. “Jensen.”

“Yeah?” he said, popping back into view.

“We’ll figure out your new contract in the morning,” you said.

“Yes mam,” he said. “If you need anything else, you know where to find me.”

“Goodnight,” you said. He left and you lightly swung your feet, staring down at the hardwood floor. You hopped down and put the bottle back in the cabinet, taking a deep breath. 

Nothing was wrong. Nothing at all. 

But something still felt strange. You couldn’t put your finger on it. Maybe Jensen sensed it and that’s why he wanted to stay. But he wasn’t shy about coming out and telling you how it was. 

You sighed and went to the freezer, taking out a pint of mint ice cream and heading upstairs to bed, hoping a night of sleep at home would put it out of your mind.

“No way,” you said as you sat back in your chair in your home office the following morning. Jensen was smirking from the other side of the desk and was leaned back in his own, your lawyer sat at the small sofa with his laptop and typing up what the two of you were going back and forth on. “When I am filming and appearances we agree on.”

“We already agreed on those. Now we’re negotiating the parts we don’t agree on.”

“I do not need a bodyguard on the weekends. I already compromised on the you being on at night thing,” you said.

“Well, I’m going to be living in that bedroom so-”

“Actually, you’re not,” you said. He raised an eyebrow and you sat up straighter. “I decided last night that seeing as how I don’t particularly like this house and Jared and Gen just moved, I’ll be moving closer to my friends. I saw a home last night with a small guest house in the back that would be perfect for you.”

“I might as well be living in a different home at that point. It-”

“It is connected to the main home. I thought you might appreciate your own space and to be frank-”

“You don’t look like a frank,” he said. You smiled a bit, Jensen’s grin growing.

“If we’re going to have a long term relationship, which considering the possible trajectory of my career this might very well be, I’m going to have to insist on you having a separate space for yourself. You will of course have full access to the main house at all times but if I have friends over or a date, I would like my privacy. I’m sure you would like your own,” you said.

“If we’re going to have a long term relationship, any of your friends or a potential boyfriend are going to have to learn to live with me being around. No exceptions. I will give you privacy but I will be staying in the main house. As for you moving closer to friends, I welcome it. They’re my friends too after all.”

“Let me pose a hypothetical question to you. Say I meet a guy, we date, he moves in with me. Are you going to continue to live in the main house?” you asked.

“That will depend on the circumstances of your life at that point but if he’s living with you, I would move into a guest house or suite,” he said. “I may possibly move to my own place entirely. As I said, it’s going to be highly dependent on your life at that time.”

“I can agree to that. But your bedroom in the main house will have some space from mine,” you said.

“Understood. I will keep my own personal excursions out of the home,” he said.

“Good,” you said. “Now back to the weekend thing.”

“I’ll compromise with you. I am off duty on the weekend but I reserve the right to protect you if I feel you’re in danger,” he said. “I will keep to a small area of the house on my off days for your privacy.”

“I appreciate that but I won’t enforce it if you choose to watch some TV in the family room. You being off duty on the weekends does mean that if I go out, you are following though,” you said.

“Compromise. If you go out and I want to go, I can but I don’t have to,” he said. “I can use my discretion.”

“What if I want to go out with my friends?”

“Go out with your friends. I may or may not come. I’ll stay away, let you enjoy your fun without me interrupting unless I see a threat. Deal?”

“Alright,” you said. “But I reserve the right to fire you on the spot for anything and I mean anything. Two weeks pay if I do.”

“Okay,” he said. You were surprised at how quickly he accepted that but he seemed indifferent. “It sounds like we have most everything settled.”

“Rob, can you send us both a copy of the contract for review then and-”

“Oh, I have something else,” said Jensen. “A little...requirement of mine.”

“We already discussed pay and benefits.”

“Those are fine. I’ve found in the past we don’t get along when you don’t listen to me. As part of our working relationship, you will take a self-defense course chosen by myself and you will learn the different things that if you do, will make your life safer and minimize the need for me. They are for both our benefits. One’s a short book and the other a two hour class. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes. Rob, write up our contract for us please,” you said. He said he’d have it by the end of the day and you slumped back in your seat, Jensen staring at you. “What?”

“Want to go pick out a house?” he asked.

“What?”

“You want to move. It’s Sunday. Open houses.”

“Rob’s already put in an offer on the place I mentioned,” you said.

“Oh. You don’t even want to see it?” he asked.

“The pictures seemed nice. I’ll renovate what I don’t like. I’m not moving again after this,” you said.

“Oh. Cool. I will pack up most of my things in the meantime,” he said as he stood up.

“It’s Sunday. You’re not at work right now. Do whatever you want, Jensen,” you said.

“New contract isn’t effective yet,” he said. “Besides, knowing you we’ll be in the new place in a week. Might as well be prepared.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

[extasiswings]

How we feeling clowns?  Wrecked?  Anyway, here, have an episode tag for both the crossover and Buck Begins.  Also on ao3.

Eddie’s driving nearly on autopilot, the roads familiar as they get closer and closer to El Paso. Part of him almost wishes he hadn’t taken the driving shift to get them to his childhood home, even if it made the most sense—he can feel the tension in his jaw and shoulders creeping in, curling tighter with every mile they come closer, and his fingers itch for his phone, for the commiserating sympathies of his sisters who understand what he’s likely to walk into much more than Buck or Hen. 

Technically they could have skipped the detour. Eddie hadn’t even planned on telling his parents he was coming to Texas at all—it was Christopher who let it slip, and then Eddie had been immediately put on the spot and he hadn’t been able to come up with a good way out of stopping by after his weak deflection that it wasn’t a social trip was met with well, you have to stop and eat somewhere, don’t you. 

Sophia told him to lie and say the department said no. But she’s always been much better at lying to their parents outright than he is. Adriana shrugged and said if he didn’t want to go he didn’t need to give them a reason and should just say he wouldn’t be coming. But then, that’s her tactic as well and always has been—putting her foot down to establish hard boundaries, forging her own path and bucking all expectations.  Eddie’s always fallen somewhere in the middle, which he supposes is fitting—struggling to set boundaries, often getting there only when pushed, wanting approval but lacking Sophia’s talent for gentle manipulation that usually leads people to think that whatever she wants was their idea. 

So. Here he sits. Driving to El Paso. 

“Eddie?”

He blinks and clears his throat as he registers Buck’s voice, the edge of concern that says it’s not the first time Buck has called his name. 

“Yeah?”

“I was going to ask if you could pass back the aux cord,” Buck says. “But now I think I should ask if you’re okay.”

Eddie glances over his shoulder—Hen is in the back of the truck, head pillowed against the window, dozing with her eyes closed.  He swallows. 

“It’s been awhile since I’ve seen my parents is all,” he replies. “And usually when they call it’s to talk to Christopher so...it might be uncomfortable.”

Buck’s voice drops. “Have you talked to them since the thing? Other than about this I guess.”

The Thing, also known as the huge fight they got into when Eddie decided that if he was going to keep working he couldn’t live at home for awhile and they tried to once again insist that he take Chris back to live with them. Like some terrible combination of the arguments they had before he moved to LA and after Shannon’s funeral, only even worse because Eddie had been raw enough over the decision to move in with Buck and let his abuela take care of Chris for awhile and really didn’t need to hear anyone tell him that choice made him a bad parent—

Sophia had been spitting mad when he told her and while he doesn’t know what she said in her own subsequent call to their parents, he knows that the next time they called him, the subject didn’t come up again.  Which, he supposes is as close to an apology as he’s ever likely to get.  

He probably could have used that as an excuse to not visit.  But then, that’s not really how they are.  Don’t apologize, pretend you don’t hold grudges, act like everything is fine, and repress until it feels like it is—the Diaz family way.  

Eddie sighs as he focuses on the road.

“Not really,” he replies.  “They’ve called Christopher every few weeks, but we’ve only talked directly...three times maybe since then?  Things seem to go south more quickly when we’re in person though so I guess I’m…”

“Bracing for impact,” Buck fills in quietly.  “I get that.”

“Yeah?”

Buck shrugs.  “I don’t talk about my parents,” he points out.  “Don’t talk to them either if I can avoid it because they always have a way of managing to just—anyway.  The last time I even called was after everything with Maddie and Doug.  Haven’t seen them since...since before I started with the 118 at least. So.  Yeah.  I get it.”

He hesitates, then adds, “You know I have your back, right?  You’re my best friend and you’re an amazing father.  I’m not going to let anybody get away with talking badly about you in front of me, even if they are your parents.”

Eddie glances back and manages a faint smile, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.  

“I’m glad you’re here,” he admits.  “Even if you did try to steal a fire truck in the middle of the night without me.”

Buck laughs and shoves at his shoulder.  “At least it wasn’t this truck.  Besides—you caught up before I did it anyway.”    

“Yeah, my Buck’s about to do something dangerous senses were tingling, couldn’t let that slide,” Eddie teases.

“Just give me the damn aux cord,” Buck shoots back, but he’s grinning.

And as they pass the next exit, Eddie feels like maybe things won’t be quite so bad.

***

Buck hates Eddie’s parents.  

It’s not the most charitable thing to think about someone you’ve only just officially met—he saw them at the ceremony when Eddie passed his probationary period, but he’d been on pretty strong painkillers at the time and Maddie had shuffled him back home as soon as possible—but he really does.

He hates the tense, anxious set of Eddie’s shoulders, hates the way his smile looks forced—it triggers the same fierce, protective instinct that rears its head whenever he gets between his parents and Maddie, and, well, he did promise, so—

He really doesn’t feel bad for interrupting the very first digs about how seeing Christopher over video isn’t the same as in person, but it’s nice to have the option and technology really is wonderful, Zoom calls must have been a great improvement from your army days, right son with—

“You know, it is wonderful isn’t it?  Did Eddie tell you how amazing Christopher is handling hybrid learning?  It’s really so great how his teachers have adapted, I can’t imagine he would have kept up so well anywhere else.”

Buck smiles brightly as Eddie’s mother’s lips thin.  Hen coughs and takes a long sip of lemonade.  Eddie blinks in surprise from across the table and clears his throat, grasping at the lifeline.

“Yeah, top of his class,” Eddie says.  

“He even has a reading group once a week with some of the other kids in his class that Eddie started to help them stay social.  I know a lot of the other parents appreciate it,” Buck adds, and Eddie rubs at the back of his neck.

“We definitely do,” Hen says, glancing at Eddie’s father as she clarifies, “I have a son Christopher’s age.  They used to play together all the time before all of this.”

“His therapist said kids are resilient, but I wanted to at least try and give him something normal,” Eddie replies, and his mother’s brows raise.

“Christopher is in therapy?”  There’s a note in her tone that makes Eddie tense and Buck’s hackles raise.

“I took him to see someone for a few sessions after Shannon died, mom,” Eddie says evenly.  After the tsunami, Buck fills in for himself.  “It didn’t seem like a bad idea to go back again to make sure he’s okay during a time that’s pretty unprecedented for just about everyone.” 

“Really, I think more parents should send their kids to therapy,” Buck interjects.  “If it’s a feasible option, I can’t see that it’s anything other than great parenting to make sure your kid has the best tools they can to take care of their mental health.”

God knows if he’d gone to therapy a hell of a lot sooner, he might not be struggling through sessions with Dr. Copeland now that he’s nearly thirty, but that’s not really the point.

“Well, some people feel those sorts of things are best taken care of within the family,” Eddie’s mother replies.

“With all due respect, sometimes the family’s way of handling problems just makes things worse,” Buck replies, his smile dropping briefly before he forces it back again.

“This lemonade really is delicious, Mrs. Diaz,” Hen jumps in as Eddie pushes his chair back and starts collecting empty plates.  “I would love to get the recipe before we leave.  If you don’t mind.” 

Startled, the older woman blinks.  “Oh.  Yes, of course.  I’ll write it down for you.”

Buck pushes back his own chair as Hen continues redirecting the conversation and follows Eddie into the kitchen where he finds his best friend gripping the edge of the sink.

“Hey,” he says quietly.  

Eddie looks over his shoulder and exhales heavily.  “Hey.”

“Sorry if I overstepped.”

“You didn’t,” Eddie assures.  “I’m just...exhausted.  And ready to get back on the road and home to my kid.”

He hesitates, then adds, “you know, my sisters would be impressed.  I haven’t seen someone manage our parents like that since they left.  I—thank you.”

“I meant what I said in the truck, Eddie,” Buck replies.  “You’re an amazing father and a great man and—it’s not right that anyone should pretend any different.  So.  I won’t let them.”   

Eddie glances at the hallway.  “Guess we have to go back eventually.  I didn’t quite think this escape plan through.”  

“Once more unto the breach?”  Buck offers.  The smile he gives Eddie is far different from the fake one he’s had up since they arrived, and when Eddie returns it, a spark returning to his eyes, it makes Buck’s stomach flip and his pulse race.

He tries not to think too hard about that.  They still have a long drive ahead of them—plenty of time to save it for later.    

“Yeah.  Yeah, okay.”

***

When they get home, Eddie barely manages to shower and plug in his phone to charge before falling into bed and immediately going to sleep.  When he wakes up, he finally checks his messages and sees several missed calls and texts from his sisters.

So? Sophia asks.  How was it?

<em>You were right</em>, Eddie taps out, and then waits. His phone rings a few seconds later. 

“I’ll save the I told you so in favor of asking if I should get Adriana on the line for an emergency Diaz sibling parental grievance vent session or if I’ll suffice,” Sophia greets. 

“It’s not that serious,” Eddie replies. “I’m okay—a little annoyed still, but...I’m okay.”

He’s not quite sure what compels him to add, “Buck was there. He, uh, he told them off about it a little actually. Politely, but that kind of polite...you know the one.”

“The one that’s basically go fuck yourself with a smile and/or plausible deniability?” Sophia fills in, and Eddie laughs. 

“Yeah, that.” He rubs at the back of his neck and leans back in his chair. “It was—he kept pointing out things about what a great dad I am.”

There’s something about the feeling in his gut that he can’t name. Something he wants to poke at, to explore, but that also makes him wary. Like a yellow caution light—it’s not a do not enter but it’s not risk free either—and he’s not sure whether it’s a risk he can take yet. 

Sophia is quiet for a moment. Then she says, “You are a great dad, Eddie. In spite of them. I’m glad you have other people in your life who recognize that too.  You deserve that.  You deserve to trust that you’re good at things, even if mom and dad say you aren’t.  You deserve to be happy, so...”

The silence that follows feels weighty.  

“What?”  Eddie asks.

“Is Buck—?”  Sophia cuts herself off.  “—nevermind.  Hey, the twins are calling, so I’ll call back again later, okay?  Love you.”

Is Buck what? Eddie wants to ask.  But he swallows it back.

“Love you, too,” he says instead.  “Talk to you later.”

As he hangs up and tosses his phone aside, his mind wanders back to that feeling.  Right up to the edge of warning lights and caution tape.  And Eddie wonders for a moment if he should—

There’s a knock at his door.  

“Dad?  You awake?”

“Yeah, buddy,” he calls back.  “Be right there.”

Later.  He can think about it later.  

***

Eddie figures it out at the worst possible time—in the middle of a five-alarm fire when Buck’s trapped inside and he doesn’t know if—

What do you do when you realize you might be in love with your best friend and they could die?

“We have to go back in there,” he says, before he can think of any reason why he shouldn’t.  “We can’t just leave him, we have to—”

“You’re right,” Bobby interrupts, and the other captain makes a noise of frustration.  

“Captain Nash—”

“You’re right,” Bobby repeats, holding Eddie’s gaze.  “We’re going to get him back.”

Maybe it’s stupid, four trained firefighters diving back into an active blaze in an unstable building with unclear direction, but Eddie can’t regret it when he sees the desperation on Buck’s face.  The relief.  The impending breakdown.

After, he’s assigned to take care of the victim and Buck’s carted off to the hospital to get checked, and Eddie thinks maybe that’s better.  It gives him time, at least.  Time to figure out what to say, what to do, whether he should say or do anything at all.  Part of him doesn’t know.  The rest is screaming I love him, I love him, I love him, wants to get his hands on Buck to verify for himself that he’s fine.  That he’s alive.  That he’s going to stay that way.

But when he gets back to the station, Buck’s parents are there, sitting at the table, and Eddie just—

He thinks about the look on Buck’s face earlier in the shift when he spilled everything, when he explained how he was apparently born just for parts and how he used to throw himself into bad situations because it was the only way to get their attention.

He could ignore them.  But he doesn’t.

“He saved my son, you know,” Eddie says, gripping the top of the staircase as the Buckleys look up.  And it’s probably somewhat insane to keep talking because he knows they don’t even know who he is, but he can’t help it because he just needs them to understand—  “Buck.  He wasn’t even working at the time, he was on medical leave and didn’t know if he would ever be able to be a firefighter again.  But he saved my son in the middle of a tsunami—my then eight-year-old son, and god knows I can’t imagine losing him, I think that would be the worst thing I could possibly go through, and I’m not sure I would survive it, but I didn’t have to because Buck saved him.  And probably twenty other people as well.  That’s just the kind of person he is.  The kind who saves people.”

They don’t say a word, so he keeps going.  “He could have died today.  Because he didn’t want to leave anyone behind.  Because he is a good man, even if he doesn’t ever feel like he’s good enough.  And he hasn’t said a lot about you, but he’s said enough for me to know that while he’s gotten the latter impression from you, he learned the former himself.  He built his life here himself.  So...I don’t know why you’re here, if you want to explain yourselves or just want him to forgive you because you feel guilty, but I just wanted you to know that.  That he’s a good man.  The best man that I know.  And if you’re proud of him for that, he deserves to hear it.  That’s all.”

Eddie walks away then, heart beating too fast, blood rushing in his ears.  

The best man that I know.  And I’m in love with him.

That wasn’t for their ears though.  

It thrums in his veins, the words caught in his throat as he showers, changes, waits for Buck to return to the station.  And when he does, Eddie almost—

But something stops him.  

“You have visitors,” he says instead.  And leaves Buck to it.

Buck finds him in the locker room after.

“So, my parents said they heard stories about me while they were waiting,” he says.  “When I asked them who from, they said they didn’t know, but that I saved their son in a tsunami—and trust me, that got a hell of a lot of questions.”      

Eddie is grateful for the open locker, the excuse to hide his face as he pulls out his street clothes.

“Yeah, well—just because they’re not going to appreciate you doesn’t mean that nobody else does.”

“Eddie.”

Eddie pulls back and takes a breath before looking over at Buck.  There’s a look in Buck’s eyes like he’s trying to piece Eddie together like a puzzle, to work out all the things he hasn’t said.  And Eddie suddenly feels exposed, far more than he had when Buck was sitting in his childhood dining room staring down his own parents.  

“You’re a good man,” Eddie says quietly.  “They should hear that.  And...someone should be willing to defend it.”  

Buck’s quiet for a moment.

“I have to go see Maddie,” he says finally.  “But maybe I could come by later?  And we could...talk?”

“You don’t have to ask, Buck,” Eddie replies.  “You know I—”  I always want you.  “—you’re always welcome.”

Buck watches him in silence for another long moment, then nods.  “Okay.  Okay, I’ll see you later then.”

It’s hours before there’s a knock on the door.  Hours in which Eddie burns dinner and then orders takeout because he’s too busy thinking, hours that he spends trapped in his own head, thinking through all the worst case scenarios, through every what if of how things could go wrong.

But also how they could go right.

And by the time he opens the door, he’s almost ready to just let the words trip off his tongue, but before he can, Buck says—

“Please don’t tell me I’m wrong about this.”

—and kisses him.

Eddie freezes, but before Buck can pull back, he slides a hand around the back of Buck’s neck and kisses him back with everything in him—every bit of thank god you’re alive and I was so afraid and I can’t lose you that he can muster.  By the time Buck pulls away, they’re both breathless. 

“I’m in love with you,” Buck admits.  “I’ve been—”

“Me too,” Eddie replies.  “I thought—I thought you were—”

Buck kisses him again.

“I can’t believe you told off my parents.”

“Well, you told off mine, so—”

Eddie pulls Buck through the door.

“Chris is in his room,” he says quietly.  “But...you should stay for dinner.  And…”

You should stay.  Just stay.

Buck does.  

[lambourngb]

day 1 who do you think you are - character recs

Creator’s Week 2021 for @roswellnewmexicocreate - Day 1 : Character Recs

This is my favorite fandom event, and my third year doing it. The last year was really difficult, and fanfic more than ever was my escape from it.  Shout out to all the writers, commenters, and lurkers who kept fandom going during it.

Rosa Ortecho:

heal it or break it all apart by @adiwriting​ : (7,600) All Rosa’s ever done is break things. Her entire life she’s destroyed everything she’s ever touched. So it’s really no surprise when she comes back that her powers do the same. Alternatively- 4 times somebody tries to get Rosa to seek help with her powers and one time she decides to help herself.  GEN

why i like it: I pretty much love whatever Britt writes, but in the light of how season 3 is going, I found myself returning to this fic more than a few times. She really captures the fierce but vulnerable Rosa in this beautifully.

Kyle Valenti:

at every occasion i’ll be ready for a funeral by @bydayornight  (1,330) Kyle goes on a vacation after the events of 3x04 and meets an unlikely beach companion. GEN

why i like it: Christine has become one of my new favorite writers, and has been a season 3 coda writing machine. Here is where we all would like Kyle to be - lounging on a beach without a care in the world (with that RNM twist! lol)  She also does a brilliant job with the Kyle and Michael vibes here.

Maria Deluca:

Butter(bar)flies by @andrea-lyn​ (4,447) When all of Maria’s people fly away for new opportunities, she needs to find new ones. The lost decade and what should have been. MILUCA

why i like it: Manda has written some of my favorite stories, and even has dragged me into Ted Lasso, but this little lost decade AU is one of my favorites. She captures the flirty vibe of season 1 Michael/Maria, and inserts it into a time when it really makes sense to me for that a friends-with-benefits-relationship should have begun, to give weight to a choice for Michael. Maria is wonderfully characterized here, and it really makes it clear how a real love triangle should have been structured.

Liz Ortecho:

heart of lightning (a roswellian tale) by @bitch-ass-aliens​ (20,095) When Ser Elizabeth Ortecho of the Roswellian Court is sent by Queen Isobel to retrieve the heart of the missing King Maxwell from a fearsome lightning dragon guarding it, she knows success could bring her one step closer to completing a quest of her own. Ten years ago, a mage named Ophiuchus curse her sister with eternal slumber, and Liz has been searching for him ever since. Saving the king could be the key to learning Ophiuchus's true identity and saving Rosa. But the dragon is not what it appears to be. Soon Liz finds herself needing to guard her heart from feelings forgotten long ago as she and her friends journey back to Roswell, King Max by their side, with more than just the fate of Rosa hanging in the balance. For Ophiuchus's plans are bigger and more dangerous than any of them realize. ECHO

why i like it: This was part of the RNM Big Bang last year and as a fellow participant, I did my best to read and feedback the other submissions, which meant reading something that wasn’t Malex 😂🤯 - suz made it easy, writing a beautifully detailed medieval AU that retold the story of Rosa, Noah, and Max’s S1 sacrifice, through the amazing POV of Ser Liz. This story had everything I love about Liz- her devotion to her family, her bravery in doing hard things, and her love for Max.

Max Evans:

highway to the sun by @angsty-nerd​  (22,236) Noah’s heart is failing, and Max is on the verge of death. His final wish is to see Liz one last time, so he and Michael road trip to Los Angeles so that Max can say his goodbyes. ECHO

why i like it: Another part of the 2020 RNM Big Bang - Instead of a focus on Liz in this Echo story, we’re deep in the psyche of Max Evans, who is trying to tie up loose ends before he dies. I love the atmosphere of the road trip, the sadness of the clock that Max is trying to run out, and the whole Michael/Max brotherly bond in this story. It’s got all the sweet elements of some of my favorite romantic dramas - like “Beaches” or “Dying Young”, but mixed with the sci fi of RNM. Even though it was written pre-season 3, I really love how it ties up season 2 here.

Alex Manes:

i’m just like my mother, we both love to run @meneatyoghurt​ (5,211) After what his dad does, he runs and runs and runs. A look at Alex's relationship with running, from track and field to leaving Roswell. MALEX IMPLIED

why i like it: Alex is one of my favorite characters on RNM, mostly because of how hard he tries in spite of his flaws. I love a good story that focuses on why it’s a struggle for Alex to be present, and doesn’t shy away from the fallout of his actions. This is a gorgeous look into Alex and his tendency to run to feel safe, and how that affects his relationships, and why he wants to stop. I just have a lot of feelings about Alex, especially after reading this.

Michael Guerin : 

looking for yourself out there by @haloud (6,670)  It’s early; it’s a weeknight. Michael can only be here to get blasted or for Marco himself, and both of them know it.It’s been a while since this was a game, for Michael. The flirting he did with Maria was something else, a class all her own. Sex, and the lead up to sex, for the longest time was either life-or-death or it was a helpless, hopeless lashing out for any human contact. (It was either Alex, or it was Maria, or it wasn’t.)So this is nice. MICHAEL/OTHER

why i like it: I privately think hal understands Michael Guerin like no other, and their fic is just a delight for anyone who wants to look under that macho cowboy exterior to see him. One of the things we both agree on as Michael Guerin fans, is that Alex is not the male exception for Michael. And while the show will probably never deliver a Michael/OMC storyline like they have with Max/Jenna, Isobel/Blair, Liz/Heath, Alex/Forrest - that’s what fanfic is for and this story is so satisfiying. If you don’t come away from this story loving Marco and wishing he was real... I don’t know what to tell you. I was so inspired by it, I wrote my own Michael/OMC story.

Isobel Evans:

future starts slow by @foramomentonly​ (4,799) The bartop is sticky, but Maria's skin is clean and soft.This is how it starts. Brushes of fingers as Maria passes over a glass of wine; her cool, dry hand cupping Isobel's wrist as she reads her palm; Isobel's fingertips pressed to Maria's temples, wisps of curls caught around her knuckles as they practice combining their powers. MARIBEL

why i like it: It’s just facts that Maria and Isobel have incredible chemistry, their banter is off the charts, and I love this sexy story of Isobel approaching Maria for more after they’ve been circling each other for a while. It’s a gorgeous look at two strong women who very rarely let down their guards, but for each other, they do. The sex is really hot, but I think what lingers most with me is how this story rewards the swan dive of hope, Isobel after a lifetime of “being who she should be” becomes who she wants to be, a woman who loves fiercely but not destructively. Of course, Maria is no wilting flower here, which makes it all the sweeter.

If you like any of these recs, please leave a comment on the story- a ‘this was awesome’ is enough to propell an author into the stratosphere with happiness, so don’t worry about coming up with a unique, never before shared insight- sometimes a keyboard smash and emogi makes all the difference! 

[lunyrbug]

RUNAWAYS || Crossposting from wattpad || Chapter 1

park jimin was bored out of his mind. and when i say bored, i mean so bored his life felt like watching grass grow after the seeds have just been planted.

that is how bored this man was. it was almost sad.

he and his best friend, jungkook, were doing the same thing every day at this point. wake up, go to work, hang out, eat, go to bed, rinse and repeat. and jesus christ did he hate a routine. it got boring after the 2nd semester of freshman year. he even graduated and things stayed the same. the only time it changed was during exams, which made things even more painstakingly boring. 

jimin needed a change of scenery.

---

jeon jungkook felt the same way. he wanted to see the stars on the roof of a house in the big city and talk to jimin next door. he didn't want to have to look through a telescope on the apartment balcony to get a glimpse of the world outside of his little bubble.

he wanted to climb out onto the rail and feel more alive than he's ever felt. he wanted to breathe fresh air and smell life. smell something so ethereal that he'd forever be dumbfounded.

jungkook needed a change of scenery.

---

so when the boys met up, they had to talk about it.

"i'm bored." the duo said in unison. they had said it so many times before, and they normally found a video game to play and snacks to eat. today was different. they had beaten all the games and had to save money from their part-times. they were truly bored. they sat down on jimin's fluffy blue carpet. "so what do we do? we have no games, can't buy anything..." jungkook spoke, tapping his chin. "i have an idea." jimin said, gasping quietly. he always came up with some...peculiar ideas. before they had gotten jobs, they had almost started a study help business. they quickly learned that they needed to actually be good at studying and make good grades to help others do the same.

jungkook perked up at jimin's sudden speech. "is it a good one?" he asked, tilting his head excitedly. "please let it be a good one, i'm so sick of hoping we catch a meteor falling to earth in time to snap a picture and have something interesting happen for once!" "it's as good as it's gonna get," jimin shrugged. "hear me out. i think...we run away from here." "what?" jungkook looked stunned. he was certainly dumbfounded, but not in the way he wanted. "we run away. we'll never be bored again! it'll be fun. we find out who we are and explore the country, maybe even the globe!" jimin said, convinced his idea was amazing. "hyung?" "hm?" "that is the dumbest idea i've ever heard. run away?! what will our parents say? we don't have the finances for that! where will we live? how do we know we won't just wander into some dangerous country and not make it out alive?" jungkook rambled on and on about the flaws of the idea. jimin paused. he hadn't thought about that. "our parents would love for us to get a taste of the real world. we saved up money, this could be our use for it! we go where the world takes us and use our phones. forget we have those? it's a foolproof plan if we do it right!" "it's not a foolproof plan if there's an 'if we do it right' directly following it. that implies there is a way to fail." jungkook deadpanned.  both boys knew they were correct. they just had to plan things out.

---

"okay. so. my mom says yes to us taking your car for our little road trip." jungkook looked up from his phone.

"she doesn't mind us not being back indefinitely?" jimin asked, obviously surprised. jungkook nodded. his mom was lenient. "so we leave when?" "7 am tomorrow morning." "let's pack!" jungkook jumped up, already excited. the boys now had something to do. a mission. they'd call it 'project runaway.' [patent pending]