#i should clarify that the first few tags are lines i saw when i was looking; not my words lol

[feralghxuls]

i looked at. a lot of poetry looking for a swiss/alpha tag and then i just made up my own. anyway i am...emotions

[doodle-pops]

Modern AU: CEO! Finarfin

SFW and NSFW Headcanons

A/N: Back again with another Modern AU headcanon (you probably thought I gave it up). The last one I did was for the Sugar Daddies, I had a hard time deciding if I should have done one for Finarfin (maybe a next time)...here's CEO! Finarfin to continue this Modern AU.

Modern AU Masterlist

SFW

CEO! Finarfin who…inherited the smallest share of his father’s company after the will was read and turned out to have the most successful business ever. More successful than Feanor and easily surpassed him in the markets with a grand welcome of deals and shares. His company ran the most prolonged, longer than his father's rule.

CEO! Finarfin who…was pleased to hire you as his forensic accountant and was blown away by your credentials. There wasn’t an area on your resume that showed you being incapable of anything. This pushed him to have you as his certified forensic accountant, not wanting to have anyone else sort out all his financial reports. He needed someone with vast skills who could keep up with his business work etiquette, and you had them all.

CEO! Finarfin who…asks for you to do background research on all of the companies before he makes a deal or co-signs with them. He respects your words and looks forward to your guidance, believing in your final say about companies, their work ethics and financial history. He doesn’t have the need to consult another accountant to clarify if the data acquired is true or false.

CEO! Finarfin who…not only loves your advice in business but also in life. He looks forward to the motivational words you give him whenever he’s stressed out by his eldest brother or family problems. There are moments during meetings you would notice the stress and make a few comments here and there to relieve himself and have a break. Other times, when the meeting is over or midway, the conversation changes outside of work matters.

CEO! Finarfin who…also insists that you tag along to lunch because you do so much for him, way out of your job description, thus you deserve some time off to take away his stress (that is if you are living nearby and not overseas).

CEO! Finarfin who…can’t help but feel touched by the extra distance you’re willing to go and can’t help but wonder what your motives were. Were you trying to get closer to him because it wasn’t the first time someone attempted, plus, he was a single desirable bachelor? Many were lining up for his hand in marriage. Or were you genuinely sincere towards him? He hoped the latter, he did fancy you.

CEO! Finarfin who…takes the chance to ask you out for dinner one day out of the blue and almost walked into his office door after you told him yes. You saw the natural radiant beam of light shine out from him when realised he still had his game and charm.

NSFW

CEO! Finarfin who…takes the opportunity to bring you to his company whenever face-to-face meetings are being held. Sometimes, the chauffeur will retrieve you before him at Finarfin’s request just to have you sit and wait for his return after a morning jog. When he comes in, he’s wearing a simple thin tee and sweatpants that do not hide his physique. Thus, you are caught drooling at his body and he takes notice.

CEO! Finarfin who…loves to hold you close when kissing you so you could feel the outline of his physique through his shirt and shiver at the close contact. He runs his own hands up and down your body as the kiss escalates and lifts you onto his table to press his bulge into your core. The little gasp you would make just turns him into a little demon who walks you over to his sofa and allow you to grind over his crotch.

CEO! Finarfin who…would unbutton your shirt as you’re making out in his office and leave a litter of hickeys around your chest and neck and send you back to the accountant firm, with at least the top two buttons undone, hot and bothered. He knows that your underwear was soaked and was itching to have it off, but he’s a patient person.

CEO! Finarfin who…waits until you’ve both returned to his home, where he presses you against the walls to have his way. A passionate lover who has you speaking in tongues — he’s that good. King of aftercare and indulges in shower sex and morning sex. He tends to have more energy in the morning, so his pace is faster.

CEO! Finarfin who…doesn’t take the chance of fucking you in his office when you visit because he’s always busy and anyone could walk in, so he prefers his house. He does take back his word when he’s stressed out by his elder brother’s competitive behaviour, and you’re around to save the day with a blowjob under his desk and then riding him like no tomorrow. He lost his mind at your actions and didn’t hesitate to bend you over his desk, whispering in your ear about how good you were always for him.

CEO! Finarfin who…hates to use you as a stress reliever but loves how you feel around him when he’s stressed. His senses are heightened so he seeks you to dispel his tiredness with a nice rough fuck. Prefers when you call him affectionate names with the exception of ‘Sir’, it gets you bent over any surface. Hates and loves when you run your hand through his hair or tug him by his collar and call him Sir.

CEO! Finarfin who…invests in buying you pretty lingerie because he’s a sucker for them and loves the way you look. He’s torn between taking you in them and ripping them off your body, either way, you’re always getting a new stock. He acts like your sugar daddy even though you can more than afford the same things he purchases for you (he just wants to spoil you). Once you dropped the comment and he just raised a brow and smirked because he knew how true it was.

CEO! Finarfin who…fucks you a little rougher than usual whenever he meets with his family and complains the entire night about them as he’s fucking you — it’s the one time he’s very rough and doesn’t let you have any control. You’re literally his personal stress reliever.

CEO! Finarfin who…calls you ‘his baby’ and enjoys taking you to events, loving to see you decked out in the finest jewellery and clothes. His heart swells even more with the realisation that he’s more than just spoiling you and treating you like his sugar baby, he fancies you. Later on, asks for you to officially move in with him and make things official between you two.

Masterlist

Taglist: @spidergirla5 @lilmelily @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @rain-on-my-umbrella @the-phantom-of-arda @singleteapot @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner

[mamadoc]

1, 2, 3, 34, 37, 40, 48, 49

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

My two long multi-chapters have taken most of my writing time (and I love them), but I actually really love the first series I ever wrote, *Sense* You Know Me So Well. The second chapter of this series and the second chapter of its sequel are the two that I am most proud of. They just feel very authentic and have deep feelings.

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?

I'm not great at tagging apparently or my stories are all quite different. My only tag that I've used more than once was 'Alternate Universe,' which makes since given that 3 of my 6 are AUs.

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

I really enjoy awkwardness. Perhaps that speaks to my own romantic history (haha), but I feel like I write awkward romantic scenes well. I love reading sexual tension; that's easily my favorite. But I guess I'll have to work on my skills in writing it.

34. What aspects of your writing are inspired by/taken from your real life?

Hmmm... Not much. I'm a doctor with 4 young kids who's been married for 18 years. Reeeeally doesn't match much of what I write. But I do have a couple ideas for short stories that would use a little bit more of my medical expertise.

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it?

I really love the story in chapter 2 of my *Sense* You Know Me So Well, Too series. Tim and Lucy are in the middle of the pining/not talking stage when Tim's dad dies. He doesn't deal with it well, and Lucy is the only one that can get through to him.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50613028

40. Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person?

I reread my favorites for sure. Plus One by murphallo, Little Green by MeadowWard, Darling Let's Run by mooncpd, Unless It Is by adina_rachelle (@makeitastrength) are all favorites I've read at least two times each. But there are so many good stories out there (I think I have 60 tabs open of stories I want to read on my phone) that I don't reread often.

48. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?

The Loophole by The Chandom. Amazing story. I highly recommend it.

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

I'm working on chapter 17 of my Catch of a Lifetime story. Theoretically I was going to have it ready to post this weekend, but.... life.

When Lucy left the locker room on Sunday morning, Captain Andersen called her into her office.

“Good morning, Captain.  How can I help you?”

“First, I was happy to see you on the tabloid sites this morning,” she said with a smile.

Lucy furrowed her brow and opened her mouth to speak, but Captain Andersen put up her hand to indicate that she wasn’t done speaking yet.

“Not that I think that’s good journalism or that your privacy should be invaded like that,” she clarified.  “But I’m a bit of a romantic at heart, and I had a good feeling about you and Bradford from the moment I saw you two together. Even with the fuzzy photos that were taken, it’s obvious that you were happy to be with him last night.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lucy said, her cheeks suddenly a fiery red, unsure if it was the right time to discuss personal matters like this.  “I am happy, ma’am.  Thank you,” she said with a small smile. She thought for a moment and then asked, “You look at the tabloids ma’am?”

Captain Andersen laughed. “Not usually. But the LAPD’s tech force keeps tabs on all the sources of news that they can. Usually they’re looking for criminal activity, but the posts about you and Mr. Bradford were a nice bonus.  I got an email this morning with all the links.”

“Oh.  That makes more sense,” Lucy said nodding her head.

“Well,” she started.  She shuffled some papers around on her desk and then looked up at Lucy. “That’s not exactly why I called you in. I have an assignment for you today, if you’re up for it.  It’s not exactly undercover work, and it’s not exactly an internal affairs investigation, but it’s a little bit of both.” 

Lucy was intrigued.  She tried to quickly put the other conversation behind her and smiled at the captain.  “Nice hook.  I’m totally in.  What’s going on?” She leaned her arms on her duty belt and focused on the captain.

“Close the door and take a seat,” she said, waving toward the door and walking around to the front of her desk.

Thanks for asking! I love your stories.

[aliford]

the songs on the radio are okay, but my taste in music is your face || GIALI

tagging: Gigi Jones ( @giannajo ) & Ali Rutherford

date & time: Wednesday, August 21, 2024 some time at night

location: the PSU dance studio practice room

warnings: sober!ali lol but none

summary: pretty simply this is the first meeting between Gigi and Ali and it should have been nothing but it's kind of everything.

ALI looked at the time on her laptop, it had been like a full 12 hours since she last smoked, which explained why despite being in a sound proof studio everything was so... loud. Inside her head was a fucking nightmare or sounds, like music but out of order, upside down and backwards. Getting high calmed that, made things quiet again so she could do normal shit like sleep and watch tv, and talk to people, but the noise was good for her music so she didn't usually smoke on studio days or for gigs. But it had been fucking forever and she was gonna let her laptop and her decks get some rest. As she walked out something caught her attention from the corner of her eye. There was a dance studio accross the hall. She could only see part of whoever was in there but she already felt a pull and before she noticed her feet had brought her in full view of the dancer. The lines, her movements, how perfectly intune her body was with each and every beat that played, like her body and the music were one in the same. It was mesmerizing, so much so she hadn't realized she was just inside of the room, her head full of just the music coming from the speakers and her eyes focused on the physical embodiment of that music. Then their eyes met and Ali was brought back to reality. "Oh shit, my bad. I didn't mean to stare." She kinda yelled over the music.

GIANNA had been bored, to say the least, since she'd settled in back at home and been impatiently waiting for classes to start. Her mom had at least helped her spend a portion of the day going over future dance avenues she could explore after she obtained her next degree, but when the woman excused herself to go handle some work stuff, she'd decided to head to campus and take advantage of the dance studio. While she could have gone back to dancing at home, the full length mirrors in the studio and the sound system was just better for getting her in the zone. And as soon as she'd hit play on a track and started rehearsing old routines, the adrenaline was pumping and she was completely in her element. Gianna always felt at home when she was losing herself in a number, and this was no different seeing as how she was so lost that it took a few minutes before her eyes actually registered the other woman standing there, and the eye contact just barely startled her. Doing a pirouette en dedans to end her routine, she barely heard what the other woman yelled out so she stopped the music before turning to face her. "How long have you been standing there?"

ALI felt exposed as the music stopped and the uestion was a good solid question. Shame Ali didn't really have an answer that made sense. She didn't know the names of the moves and she definitely couldn't do them enough justice herself to show her what she saw. So, she did the only thing she could and mimicked the instrumentals with her voice, adding her hands to slap her legs for the percussive parts. No way she didn't look fucking ridiculous but surly the other woman would recognize that part of the song and get what she was trying to say. Stopping, because her legs were kind over the slapping, she just leaned against the bar along the wall. "About that long. I wasn't being creepy, I was just on my way out and it's hardnot to look at you." Thanks to the lack of weed, she processed what she said pretty quickly. "You're really fucking good, and it's hard not to watch." She tried to clarify.

GIANNA hadn't really met anyone that wasn't affiliated with the dance studio since enrolling in PSU, so the fact that someone who clearly wasn't a dance major had just stumbled in and watched her practice was surprising. She hadn't even expected anyone else to be around now, but she wasn't that bothered by it. When Ali started using her hand and legs to recreate the portion of the song she'd clearly walked in on, she was both impressed and conflicted as to why she didn't just give her a verbal response. Once she stopped the beat and finally spoke up again, Gianna blushed at her words. "Thank you." She answered through a cheeky grin. "Judging by the way you imitated that beat, I'm assuming you're musically inclined?" She questioned curiously before realizing they didn't even know one another's names. "I'm Gianna, by the way."

ALI felt the corner of her mouth go up in a rare but genuine smile at the sight of the other woman's flushed cheeks. It had been a while since she managed to elicit that kind of reaction out of anyone. Usually when she spoke people were confused, maybe they laughed but they never blushed, even if she was trying to pay them a compliment. "Yeah, I hit a drum here and there sometimes." It was a gross understatement, but it was meant to be sarcastic, hopefully that came through. "Gianna, sounds like a name my mom would like. My government name is Aliyah but only my mom calls me that, you can just call me Ali." She explained, pretty unecessarily but she was.... nervous? Is that what this flutter in her stomach and this warmth blanketing her skin meant? "There's a sound studio across the all, I've been in there the last 12 hours working on some new mixes. Didn't realize how late it got. I haven't seen you around the past ten years, you new to LA?"

GIANNA couldn't remember the last time someone had complimented her or made her blush, yet it was kind of nice. Sure, it was mostly her fault because she was usually so wrapped up in her studies and her family, but at least she was trying to find a balance now. She nodded at Ali's explanation of the music thing. "Just the drums?" She inquired. Sitting the remote for the music player down, she grabbed her water bottle and sipped on it as Aliyah kept talking. Maybe the girl was rambling now, like she normally did when talking to someone attractive, but she didn't mind it at all. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Ali. Good to know that your mom would like my name." She smiled. "12 hours is a long ass time to be tucked away in a studio, but I completely understand that. And no, I'm not technically new to LA. I was raised here, but I was in New York the last 9 years for ballet school. Figured it was about time I came to PSU for the experience though."

ALI wasn't good at much but when it came to music, she was, what some might call, gifted. So, no, technically it wasn't just the drums, but that was her favorite. "Uh, nah, I can play a few things, just like the drums the best." It felt oddly personal to answer that question and it made the drummer realize, she really doesn't talk to people. And Jake doesn't count, because he's not a person he's... Jake. At the dancer's response to her rambling, Ali kinda wanted to sink into the floor, and hopefully reemerge on the other side in a different universe where she hadn't just brought her mom up in casual conversation with arguably the most stunningly etheral woman she'd ever seen. Focusing, something she could do now she was sober, on what Gianna was saying she was impressed. "Ballet school is fucking rough. Was talking to a chick a while ago who was in ballet school and most of the people who start don't finish. You're some kind of super human. PSU'll be a fucking party compared to that." It was actually kind of dope being about to talk like a normal person for a change. Usually she was just spewing whatever dumbass thought was rolling around in her brain.

GIANNA smiled as Ali admitted that she could play a handful of things. "Well since you got to watch me dance, it's only fair that I get to listen to your music sometime, right?" She didn't know why she'd even suggested such, but it was too late to take it back so she just went with it. She blushed again as Ali seemed to think that she was special just because she'd stuck with the whole ballet school thing, which was hell on Earth but also one of the most rewarding things she'd ever done. "I'm a disciplined dancer so even when it was hard, I couldn't bring myself to just give it up. Not after I'd dedicated so much time and auditions to it. But a party, huh? I've never been the party type, and I don't make friends that easily, but I'm sure this school will be a lot less strict." Gianna nodded. "Did your friend drop out of ballet school? Or did you two cut things off before you found out how things ended for her?"

ALI nodded in agreement. "Fair's fair." She replied trying to hide a smile but probably failing. However, she didn't set any plans because she wasn't sure if that was a good idea or not and she wasn't sure why it would be a bad idea. God, if this girl kept blushing it was gonna get really hard not to reach out and feel just how warm she made her cheeks. But even thinking it sounded fucking creepy, so instead she listened to the music in her head and logged it away for later. A warm harp riff, it'd been a while since she felt the urge to break out the angelic instrument. Listening to her talk about her dedication to her craft, woke something up in Ali, something she hadn't paid any attention to for years at this point. That fire and passion she use to have for her music, not that she didn't still love it, but she was always so fucking numb, standing here with Gianna, it was like her senses were set alight and it was overstimulating but there was also a comfortable humm to it."We gotta change that, college is for partying and I'm at a lot of them, not really for the party, I'm just there to spin some decks for the people. I'm generous like that." She put her hand to her chest in fake humility. "She dropped, ended up in culinary school, which is pretty dope and she didn't connect to the music the way you do, like it's an extension of you, like it is you. She does have that with food though. I visit where she's a Sous Chef sometimes."

GIANNA couldn't recall ever blushing like this before with anyone else, but it was probably because Ali kept giving her compliments and she'd never had that happen before either. All of this was new for her, but she wasn't complaining about it either. Raising a brow at Ali suggesting she party more now, she then nodded along as she pointed out that she apparently did some dj'ing or something like that for parties. "Oh, aren't you sweet?" She teased. "But I don't know, I'm not really here to party, and big crowds aren't exactly my thing. But how about you let me know when you're actually working the party, and maybe I'll come just to see you in action." She suggested, walking over to her bag and grabbing her phone before she walked back over. "Here." She hummed, holding the phone out to Ali. "And as for the Sous Chef, that's still pretty damn impressive. For her. But dance is my life, kinda how music seems to be yours, so I couldn't imagine doing anything else. Even if I don't know what sort of career I'll have with this longterm, I just..can't do anything else." She admitted.

ALI found her own cheeks were starter to get a little warm with all this blushing the dancer was doing. Is sympathetic blushing a thing? Despite her head getting louder and louder, the other girl's voice was so loud and clear in her ears, and it made listening to her impossible not to do. Again, she found herself smiling as Gianna went to get, what ended up being, her phone and the warmth from her cheeks started to creep down her neck, and god damn she hoped she didn't look like she had some kind of rash. Although she doubted the flush looked as cute on her as it did the other. Taking the phone, she put her number in and made her contact name, 'Ali 🥁'. Honestly, Ali was too afriad to speak incase she fucked this whole thing up, so she just handed the phone back. Again the music was still in her head but Gianna's voice was wrapping around it like a melody. "I know what you mean." She said simply and then starter backing away with little finger guns like a dumbass. "I texted myself so, if you start getting random memes, I made them and you're welcome." With that she saluted, again, like a dumbass, and finally left her presense and god damn she needed something strong, her head has never been louder.

[frazzledsoul]

Going to go through some stuff I saw in the tags because I love to ramble, obviously.

Post AYITL endgame being Logan and Rory co-parenting and Jess is endgame. I don't see Logan as a villain, I believe he and Rory are capable of amicably co-parenting, and it's probably in his best interest to leave the dynastic plan behind and see what he can do on his own. Also, just because Christopher is a loser who is unable to develop a relationship with his child without the child's mother holding his hand doesn't mean everyone has to be that way. In my head, the triangle does rage for a few years before Rory ends up with Jess, but honestly she's got a lot of maturing to do before I would want her with him anyway. I also see a lot of appeal in Logan stepping up and so Jess is a bonus dad and another supportive figure in spawn's life, not necessarily someone who has to fulfill all parental duties. So anyway, that is how it worked out according to me.

Why did AYITL happen? Well, a lot of it was because of an entertainment writer named Michael Ausiello, who worked for TV Guide and then started the website TV Line. He was obsessed with ASP and Lauren Graham, constantly touted ASP's genius, and went on a one-man campaign for years on how ASP had to return and give the "final four words" of the show because Rory leaving for a job with the Obama campaign wasn't a fitting enough ending for her. The only real ending was ASP's ending and the S7 finale simply was not good enough. Anyway, he talked about this for years and years and after the revival he pretty much shut up about it, even though the possibility of a second revival someday drives a lot of clickbait media over the past few years.

So in conclusion, AYITL exists so that ASP could write an ending where Rory's professional dreams and aspirations are pretty much obliterated so she can end up in the same position her mother was at sixteen. Yay?

Zach being an undervalued husband. Okay, everyone knows I can't stand Dave. Or, more to the point, Dave is fine, but I can't stand the way people deify him. Dave and Lane had a fairly shallow relationship that mostly revolved around them manipulating her mother so he could take her on a SINGLE date. They seemed to enjoy these shenanigans, but I'm not really sure it even qualifies as a real relationship. Oh, and the show definitely hints that she scared him away when she told him her mother thought they might get married one day. Does that sound like a guy who would go along with Lane's desire to stay celibate or be willing to get married as young as she did? Zach did fuck up in season 6, but he was accepting of Lane's more traditional values, tried to honestly get to know her mother instead of tricking her, and was a supportive husband and father. He dealt with actual adult challenges: Dave did not. Therefore, Team Zach.

Oh, and Rory being a hypocrite about Logan's cheating. Do not get me started on this one. First of all, he didn't cheat: he slept with other girls once they had broken up, but he was not unfaithful to her once they were actually in a relationship. It was the responsibility of both of them to clarify when their relationship ended and neither of them actually did that, but he did not appear to move on until he had broken up with Rory via his sister. Obviously he should have picked up the phone and TALKED TO HER, but it isn't cheating if he broke things off first. Furthermore, Rory has no ground to stand on to wail that he moved on too fast given that she had her tongue down another guy's throat within 12 hours of breaking up with Dean the first two times. She's also cheated quite unambiguously twice before this happens and then she goes on to not only cheat on Logan again but also to manipulate Jess into it when she knew he did not want to be involved in this shit. So it only counts when it happens to her, I guess?

Of course, Logan doesn't know any of this. As far as he knows, she's a fairly naive, inexperienced girl who has slept around far less than he has. This is true, but the experience that she does have involved quite a bit of infidelity, and because Logan doesn't know this Rory can easily pretend to be the martyr who is too moral to do all this dastardly cheating. In other words, she acts like a hypocrite because she knows she can.

[elriell]

Some jumbled up thoughts about Elain, Lucien and Azriel + Mating Bonds

There have been a lot of conversations regarding this topic and I thought I’d flesh it out a bit myself, but these are facts/observations that as a fandom many have noticed, discussed, analysed. I just wanted to dive in myself fully.

I want to talk about each of them individually as well as, as a whole. Their emotions and mindsets, as someone who loves all three characters and wishes for all of them to get a happy ending. I will preface this with saying I will be discussing why it is very likely Elain will reject the bond and such things, so along the lines of Anti-Elucien. If you are a fan of them, thats cool, just skip this one if you happen upon it. 

We are going to dive in to the following;

Lucien & Elain  (their choices)

Lucien & Azriel  (contrast)

Rejecting the Bond

New Bonds

Fate & THE POV 

and why the writing is basically telling us everything we need to know...

Lucien 

Lucien is noble male, he has a good heart and has suffered his plenty, and this is why people want what is best for him, to be the happiest he can... Unfortunately I think that in this case Elain is not it. 

He is right to feel that way, just as Elain has a right to feel as she does. I think it is incredibly interesting that when we finally see from his POV we see that in a way he feels as though this has been thrust on them. 

That with his last love he had a choice and so did she.

It reminds me very much of this line about Rhysand’s parents, who were an example of an unhappy mating bond.

We will deep dive in to wrong matches further down, but the fact is that mated couples are not always indicators of true paired souls, that they very well could be the couple that do not end up happy together.

I speak on Elain and her agency a lot because I feel like a large portion of the fandom like to discard it as if it means nothing, and even judge her for it but if we actually take a look at Lucien’s behaviour he is not all that more happy.

There are some key differences between them though, Lucien as a male feels their bond to a different degree than she does, and he also has been raised to believe and respect the bond. And thus he feels a certain obligation to honour it in the best way he can. 

This doesn’t mean he thinks she is right for him, any further than his attraction to her (which like same dude same), he hasn’t displayed any signs that they actually aline as a couple. And I feel like SJM clearly highlights this when she sets examples of his gifts not being... well right for her. 

The gloves we know she never wears show us how little they know each other as she loves to get dirty [which Feyre had told him] and the pearl necklace is then contrasted by Azriels which was very personalised to Elain. 

(The rose, the secret beauty of it hitting the light etc...)

These are all deliberate moves by Sarah to showcase their misaligned bond.

And during Elain’s section I will also be pointing out some Lucien moments that really don’t read well for him. I genuinely believe he is much happier amongst the Band of Exhiles than he is when he is seen with The Inner Circus.

Elain

Here is the thing, this situation isn’t any easier on him that’s true but people need to respect Elains feelings, and the fact is she does not like him. Not only does she not like him but she shrinks in on herself, she looses all the progress and confidence she has made since the Cauldron. That is not a good sign of anything healthy.

If this is suppose to be a romance we root for why is she doing everything in her power to make it seem the opposite? If she genuinely was playing the long game she would have at least started to make them comfortable around each other, goodness they don’t even have to talk, but she does the opposite.

She emphasises that he brings out the bad in her. Again, no bueno. She quite simply does not want to be around him and with SJM’s writing I think this is highly deliberate on her part. 

[And let’s be clear there are countless quotes from the other books that do NOT reflect well on their relationship but I am trying to stick to ACOSF, as it is her most recent work, otherwise I would be here all day.] 

Rejecting the Bond

We have almost a two page discussion on why mating bonds are not an exact science, and that they can be more harmful than good. We are given two examples of it, with both Rhys’ and Tamlin’s parents. And then we get a very subtle hit at Azriel. This is all in the book Sarah said she began planting the seeds for the sisters journeys.

We also know from this there is a choice. But that many force it, because they feel it it right, (much like Lucien is probably doing right now, because he feels a duty and hope that it will work out.)  

Then we have the fact thrown at us that a lot of males believe that their mate belongs to them and will challenge the other male, which we now have a call back to with Rhys’ mentioning “The Blood Duel”. 

There is literally not one reason Sarah would put this in TWICE only for it never to happen or come close too happening. How anyone can question at this point that Elriel will happen is confusing to me, she has laid all the groundwork for it.

Now I don’t believe for a second that Lucien wouldn’t respect her choice, I think it will most certainly come down to Beron forcing his hand to wage the war we know he wants.

I think despite what Rhys said in Azriel’s POV under immense stress, TNC will protect Elain and ultimately stand by her decision. 

Not only does ACOSF spend a great deal of time creating a further divide between Elain & Lucien it also add a shockingly large quantity of easter eggs about “Elain choosing bonds” “Other Mate” “What if it chose wrong?” and again in this book like in ACOMAF we bring back up a failed mated pair to remind you of it’s existence.

All possible signs lean towards them breaking the bond.

And frankly from a storytelling perspective having three perfect bonds that are basically the same overarching love story (enemies to lovers) is boring, she would want to shake it up and throw a little curveball.

Lucien + Azriel  &  Why I think Azriel will have a bond with Elain.

“If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate” And low and behold it is Azriel who figures out what was going on with her. Not to mention in the reveal SJM further displays that Lucien has no clue what was going on with her.

I don’t know what bridge holds their bond but I wouldn’t trust crossing it personally... :/

Further still, Lucien cannot hear her heart. Their bond is definitely not strong but you could also argue that is not an element of the bond at all but rather of her abilities perhaps. Since we know she could hear the sea too though it was nowhere close by.

But Azriel did hear her, he did pay attention and he figured out what was amiss. 

It is interesting to me that people took such issue with this when I believe very few have issues with Rhys or Cassian fighting for their respective partners. Now I have gone in to it in depth about how I think that this was pure emotion and illogical on Azriel’s part, and I don’t believe he would kill Lucien so carelessly.

I think it speaks to the same blind emotion a lot of them have displayed for their mates, Lucien may have wanted to see if she was worth it but Azriel knows she is worth the fight.

And for all intensive purposes in that moment he was willing to fight for someone he believes shares his feelings.

Now let’s tackle the whole “Possessive” crap.

First of all, all of the male pairings in this series have shown moments like this, so if it is bothering you here why isn’t it bothering you at other points?

Lucien has been just as instinctively possessive from their bond, and let me clarify, I am not shaming him for that anymore than anyone else. What I am pointing out is the double standard, if anything Azriel has more reason to feel like he can fight for her because she has actually shown him care, interest and attraction. 

They have actually bonded a lot more than she has with Lucien thus far.

And if they truly do have an upcoming bond then judging him on three paragraphs when we don’t know what the heck is going on is just ridiculous.

On the same note of that scene, let’s talk about “deserve”

First of all he never said he deserved her, Rhys implied that is what he was gleaning from the conversation and that it is just lust, which we know is not the case. Clearly Rhys perception is not accurate at all so to take his statement at face value and call it fact is a bit disingenuous.

Azriel wasn’t claiming he deserves her, did you read his POV at all?? He didn’t even feel like his hands should touch her let alone deserve her. Please go back and read that chapter again if you can’t see that.

Not to mention I think that the idea of FATE, and believing in hope even when the odds are stacked against you (AKA her having a mate) is actually very consistent with SJM storytelling and Az. Remember this;

The fact that he is hopeful despite the despair of his situation is exactly what people have valued about him. Not to mention after Rhys says this to Azriel he says to them;

So Rhys too believes they were brought in his family for a reason, some sort of fate.

Amren too thinks they are blessed by fate. Why is it so shocking and offensive that Azriel have a little hope that there is a reason they came in to their lives? Because he isn’t with your fav?

Let’s be honest he didn’t exactly get over Mor in ACOMAF, ACOWAR and then even ACOFAS there are slight moments, thats over a long period. Three sisters didn’t just arrive and he went TAG “I want one.”

No, he genuinely grew to care for Elain, and let go of his past, and in watching Elain not find any connection with her mate he saw it as a sign that the Cauldron was wrong, which we know it can be. 

I don’t know if people are selective readers but if you think that he doesn’t care for her as a person beyond being a “sister” I don’t know what to tell you, we are not reading the same books.

ANYWAYS back on topic.

I think Sarah has laid a lot of groundwork for her breaking the bond and perhaps choosing a new one. I know not everyone is keen on another bond as they feel her free will and choice is enough, that’s fair and I agree to a point. 

I just wanted to analyse the data at hand, and I do believe after ACOSF (I never thought it prior really) that they are mates in some capacity, whether that is because of the Cauldron or something that will occur... I think she has laid enough groundwork for them being Soulmates at the least. Hence why I love the idea of a Carranam bond.

There are so many parallels between Rhys, Cassian & Az that could be taken as little signs but honestly this is long enough I am sure you all want to kill me already for making you read all that hahaha 

One last little morsel, it very well might be nothing but Az shouting after they take Elain is an interesting choice, it’s ambiguous enough that you can take it to mean the pain but it could also be another little crumb.

Basically with all said and done I think she will give Elain her agency back and break it.

And potentially something will occur with Azriel as a result but thats certainly more grey than the rest of it.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk!

Obviously, to each their own opinion, have fun and ship whatever you want these are just my thoughts on the text at hand!

(Also I am sorry I got like 20+ messages to get to in my inbox, yeah I kinda ignored everyone and worked on this today, sorry!!! I’ll be back tomorrow)

[bookofmirth]

I saw your recent response to an anon where you mentioned the drama that occurred the other day based around bookprofessor’s post. Obviously you don’t have to respond to this or publish it if you do not wish but I just wanted to bring up that while it is important to focus on the real life issues at hand, the OP was hypocritical in her post which is why people were getting upset. She was preaching against ableism while simultaneously flaunting her IQ and degree which is a form of ableism. She was speaking out against racism while ending her post using the racial slur “cracker” when talking about the possibly Caucasian Twitter elriels.

Obviously she had some important points but it was completely overshadowed by her participation in the hate speech and prejudice that she was speaking out against.

This does not in any way justify the nasty messages she received but on the same hand, I do not blame anyone that called her out for her hypocrisy. I hope you can understand why her post was so negatively received and how flawed it was. My hope is that one day everyone can just ignore the negativity, report those who are being racist/prejudiced in any way, and block those who are just being loud and who you don’t wish to see content from. But unfortunately I do not see that happening any time soon.

There are a few things I want to address in this because I think it's a good moment for the fandom to step back and reflect on how we treat one another, how we react to such issues, and how we behave moving forward.

First off, thanks for explaining your point of view without being antagonistic. I do think that everyone's emotional reactions to the post were valid. I do NOT think their responses, in terms of words and actions, were valid. Now before I move forward, I want to clarify that when I use the word "you", I am referring to anyone who may have had the response I am describing - not you personally, anon. Also please don’t freak out about how long this is, as a majority of it is a response to the fandom in general, not you in particular.

What was - and wasn’t - said in the original post

In this post, there were completely valid criticisms of the way that people in this fandom behave, and it wasn’t “generalizing” a certain group, it was literal, actual proof of things that had been said, by multiple people. I’m not going to get too into what Alyssa argued because her critiques of those tweets was flawless. The original post had very valid criticisms of what was happening on Twitter. Alyssa exposed the actually racist, homophobic, and imperialistic underpinnings of those tweets.

However, a lot of people are stuck on the bits before and after those critiques. @bookprofessor apologized for different aspects of her post in a few different asks. There were perhaps better ways that some of those things could have been phrased, some things that could have been left out. And she apologized. People can accept that apology or not but we can’t act like it didn’t happen. Like she didn’t reflect and learn to do better.

However, the people she was calling out have not done the same thing, and if anything, comments that focus more on Alyssa’s tone than why she wrote the post in the first place lets those people off the hook.

On cracker - Using the word "cracker" is not racist in the same way that using racial slurs against POC is. Is it prejudiced? Yes. But you cannot say that it is the same thing when that is demonstrably untrue, given centuries of oppressive history. No one has been oppressed for being white. Those are not the same. Reverse racism is not a thing because a white person punching down on POC is NOT AT ALL the same thing as a POC punching up at white people. The actions look the same, but the impact is so unequal it’s not even funny.

Racism is a systemic, institutionalized problem. It is not defined by individual actions, though those actions can either support or challenge racism. When someone calls a white person a cracker, there isn’t centuries of oppression giving power to and reinforcing that statement. That is not a “gotcha” moment.

Saying “I have x IQ” or “I have X degrees” is not ableist. I’m sorry to whoever told you it was ableist (again, not you specifically anon but people who had read the “aw shucks guys” vagueblogs about it), but it’s not. Those are facts. I have no idea what my IQ is, but I have five degrees from institutions of higher education. Me saying that is in no way ableist. 

Often, people mention those things to be elitist, yes. Sometimes, they can be used to say “hey I know more about this than you”. They can be used in a way that tries to make themselves feel superior. I suspect that this is the impression that a lot of people got of the post. However, there is a fine line between saying “hey that’s elitist” and professing anti intellectualism. Which is perhaps a side issue so I’ll let that go for now.

Another reason that people mention their degrees or qualifications is to establish their background knowledge and credibility. If I were to say “hey y’all I have two MA degrees” (which is true) I am not being ableist! It is a fact! It is factual! And I worked my ass off for those, I will be in student loan debt until I die for those, I have every right to mention them if I want to, and often I do so in order to establish my credibility, to explain the position I am coming from. And my prior knowledge of these topics is relevant when we are talking about literature since that’s what my degrees were on - literature and linguistics. That is why Alyssa mentioned her background, though she did pair it with comments about other people, for which she has apologized.

My final point about this is that I 1000% understand feeling insecure or less than because of educational attainment. I dropped out of high school. I had a complex about that for a long, long time. But I also know that if I took offense at someone else saying they had a PhD, then that offense is about me, not them. Someone else’s inferiority complex is not reason for people to pretend to be less than they are.

If those two comments are what overshadowed the bigger, more important issue for a lot of the readers of that post, then y’all allowed them to overshadow those more important issues. I am 99% sure that someone right now is reading this and thinking “but Leslie, it was the way that she said it!” Boy have I got some news for you!

How we react

This next section is not specific to this ask; instead, it is a discussion of how the fandom responded. If it were only one person who had said “but her tone” then I wouldn’t need to make this point. The fact that multiple people are exhibiting the behavior explained below is what makes this a cultural problem within the acotar fandom.

The main argument I saw on the post itself, and indeed any time I see people bring up how nasty Twitter can be, is that “it was a joke” and “that’s how stan Twitter works”.

No.

Those responses were quite useful for this post, though! So buckle up everyone, because I am going to talk about gaslighting, racism, respectability politics, and tone policing. While I understand that some people might have taken personal offense to what was said, there is a much bigger issue at stake that has nothing to do with individual feelings, and everything to do with ensuring that POC stay silenced and white supremacy is upheld. 

Back to the “but it’s a joke” thing. Thanks for gaslighting! Great example of that, person I’m not going to tag! Gaslighting is when you make someone question their experiences, when you try to make them think “wait, did I really feel that way? Is my feeling about that valid? Do I need to re-evaluate my response to this?? Am I blowing this out of proportion???” And saying “it’s just a joke” is a perfect way to do that. Did I say something accidentally sexist? It’s just a joke, nbd! Now you’re the problem, because you didn’t understand my joke and laugh!!! 

Saying “it’s a joke” or “oh they are old/young/ignorant, they will learn” is not a good response to... anything. It takes the responsibility off the people who are doing the harm, and putting it onto the people who were hurt. And in this case, anyone who read those tweets and found them harmful (which should be everyone?) is completely valid. You aren’t lesser for being angry or emotional or for seeing a problem where other people saw a joke. The people who see those things as acceptable jokes are the ones in the wrong.

This is a tactic that is used against women all the time. Any time a woman is sexually harassed at work or online, for example, and she gets upset about it, and someone chimes in with “oh they weren’t serious, can’t you take a joke?” So you can imagine what this is like for women of color.

It is a very, very common tactic for people of color to be silenced via tone policing and respectability politics. Tone policing and respectability politics are very closely related, especially in this context. The idea is that if Alyssa had just written that post in just the right way, it would have been more palatable to white people, and therefore okay to write. The idea that if she had tried to be “understanding” or “see it from their perspective” or understand that it’s “just a joke” are all ways to silence and de-legitimize any accurate, valid criticisms that were made of those tweets. It effectively re-routes the conversation away from the real issues, and to the person trying to bring them up. It’s essentially an ad hominem attack in disguise. 

We see respectability politics in media when people of color who act or dress or speak like white people are afforded more respect. Or any time that a person of color is pulled over and people say, “well if they had just done what the police officer asked...” There is a pervasive idea that if people just “act” properly, aka if you act white, then the police won’t feel antagonized and try to kill arrest you. If we are nice enough, meek enough, smile enough, etc. then we will be accepted.

When we tone police, we refuse to allow marginalized people the right to be angry. We say that "hey, we can only have this discussion if you leave emotion, which you rightfully feel, at the door, and we can only continue this discussion if you behave in a way that makes me feel comfortable." But guess what? It isn’t about you! These discussions are often highly uncomfortable. There is no nice way to tell someone they are being racist. And yet somehow, that is the ever-moving goalpost. It seems reasonable, right? “Just be civil, be nice, don’t insult each other!” And there is that. But those criteria change constantly, to the point where anyone (white) at any time can say “WHOA WHOA THIS IS MAKE ME UNCOMFORTABLE???” Then we find ourselves at zero, and suddenly the focus of attention has shifted away from the actual problem.

Before we go further, I want to say this: people have a right to be angry. They do not need to make their anger palatable or tasteful for the consumption of others (read: white people). 

We saw this last summer, and I’m not sure how the message didn’t get across. But people are rightfully angry about racism. They are angry about the murder of people of color by police, they are angry about lack of quality education, or clean water, of centuries of oppression that have led to this very moment when all of that ceases to matter because a white woman’s feelings got hurt one time. 

And that is what pisses me off so much. There is no way in this world that we could criticize tweets like those that everyone would agree with, and that everyone would “approve” of, that would be “nice” enough and yet still be impactful and make the authors of those tweets understand the gravity of what they have done. 

The least we can do is allow one another to express our anger, our outrage, because it’s highly likely that those people know exactly what the fuck they are doing, and they do not fucking care. By criticizing a woman of color for the way in which she chose to engage with this topic, we are avoiding the issue and letting the people in those tweets off the hook. 

There were many responses to that post that were positive, that agreed with Alyssa. There are a ton of people who disagree with those tweets, who find them disgusting, who understand exactly how and why they are problematic. That should be what we are talking about. Getting to the core of the argument, on that post or any about racism or other problematic behavior in fandom, requires getting past our own egos. It requires us to be able to step back, say “hm this thing is frustrating but there is a bigger picture here”. It’s not easy, and I recognize that. 

The fact that it is a common tactic though? To say “hey this hurt me personally and so I’m going to ignore any valid points you made?” That feeds directly into centuries of white supremacy because it, once again, silences POC and makes them try to play a losing game. And they will always lose, because no matter how hard they try to play the white game, the goalposts are constantly shifting. So you know what? Fuck the game, and fuck respectability politics, and fuck tone policing and “uwu be nice guys” because when it comes to things like racism and sexism, I don’t expect the people who deserve to be criticized to be nice. In fact, trying to be nice only serves to fuck POC over in the end.

Indeed, in response to that post, certain blogs have taken the opportunity to position themselves as “the nice ones” or “the ones who would never” or “uwu let’s be nice guys” while completely ignoring the fact that a woman of color was attacked for calling out racism. And yes - that was the point of her post. People getting hung up on mentions of her degree are (intentionally or not, it doesn’t matter) completely obfuscating the fact that that is not what her post was about, which was to call out disgusting behavior. idk how many words the post actually was, but essentially, people are focusing on 5% of it to the detriment of the 95% that was actually really important shit. These types of vagueblog posts about the issue fall into exactly what I am talking about - these are people who have decided to look at this issue, see how Alyssa (and anyone else who dares speak up) has approached it, and intentionally try to act like they are “better” because they can be “rational” and “kind”. Newsflash, if you don’t have something to be angry about, then being “nice” about racism isn’t that much of a flex. If it didn’t bother you, then congratulations. That doesn’t make you better than people it did bother. You just got lucky this time, and decided to use that to your advantage to look like the good guy.

I am not saying that all calls for peace are doing this. Obviously it’s what we all want. This is the worst I have seen this fandom in the 4+ years I’ve been here. But we cannot have that by ignoring the real problems and pretending that if we are all just nice to each other, then we will solve racism and sexism and all bullying in the fandom will stop. 

So combining all of this - the gaslighting, the tone policing, and what do you get? You get a fandom that refuses to actually engage critically with its own problems and take accountability for them. You get a fandom that decides that it’s easier to be distracted by this one mean comment over here than it is to engage in the fact that you know what, the culture in this fandom has actually turned incredibly disgusting and a lot of people are just okay with it. You’ve got a fandom that is using the tools of white supremacy to avoid the discussions that should actually be taking place. Maybe people don’t realize that that’s what they are doing. But if someone still thinks that after reading this post, then godspeed my friend, I hope you enjoy Twitter.

Okay so my last thing I want to say is that I didn’t come to all of this knowledge fresh from the womb. I do a lot of work, in my personal life and my professional life, to be better. So here is a list of books that I have found particularly helpful:

How to Be An Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi

Stamped From the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America also by Ibram X. Kendi

White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism by Robin DiAngelo (side note, I was kinda meh about this one but the chapter “White Women’s Tears” is particularly helpful)

So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo

Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of Empowerment by Patricia Hill Collins

I’m not going to talk specifically about Alyssa’s post anymore, but if anyone wants to continue talking about these broader issues going on in the fandom, I am game. (I really should be grading papers though, so it might take a bit.)

[scuttle-buttle]

Chapter 2

Summary: Professor Laszlo Kreizler is a pretentious ass - that's the only way you could possibly explain the man. That being said, you needed a job to help pay for grad school, and the position of being his TA was the only thing available. You'll suck it up and deal with it, but the last thing you'll do is let this man get inside your head in the process.

WC: 1131

Rated: M

Chapter Tags: laszlo is very to the point with his expectations.

🧠

Monday morning came too quickly. There was no need to dress super professionally as a TA, but you still found that you wanted to at least look presentable on your first day with the devil himself. One less thing for him to judge you on, right?

The hall in the Psychology wing was quiet, only a few students could be seen shuffling to their early morning classes. A tall guy walked past you, offering up a pity-smile in your direction as he saw where you stood. If what you had seen on the professor over the weekend was any real indication, you felt bad for the psych majors. Even so, you would do your best to withhold judgement until you met the man.

You stood outside his office. The dark mahogany door was shut, a gold “Dr. L Kreizler” placard adorned the wood. Pulling out your phone you check the schedule for the tenth time this morning.

Schedule:

MWF 8am-12pm

TTH 3pm-7pm

You lick your lips and look at the clock on the wall - 7:59. The second the hands switch to 8 you knock on the heavy wood. There is a muffled “come in” from the other side.

You don’t know what you anticipated as you entered the office. Taking a minute, you examine the decor he has set up. It felt like walking through a time capsule; as though you were transported to the gilded age. Rich, dark colors of wood and tapestry filled the space. Large bookshelves had tomes that looked to be at least a hundred years old, well worn and rubbed off of their titles. Small artifacts, pictures, and old scientific instruments line the shelves. The room is massive, not something you would have anticipated. He does not use the fluorescent overhead lights, instead having a series of tall warm-toned lamps scattered around the room. There is even a couch along the back wall, decorated with swirling filigree carved into the arms and legs. A laptop and second monitor on his desk bring you back to reality.

In your admiration of the office you pay no mind to the man it belongs to. Finally, you notice him as he stares at you from his chair, looking annoyed at having to wait for your introduction.

Even with the less than pleased look he’s giving, you can’t help but notice how attractive the man is. The picture had done absolutely nothing to show off the depth in those brown eyes, the softness of the delicately styled hair, the fullness of his well-groomed beard. He was much younger than you anticipated too. If anything you figure he’s maybe early 40s. And fuck, he’s just your type. Too bad he’s an asshole… and your boss…. you think belatedly.

“Oh! Sorry, um, I’m the new TA,” you introduce yourself and tell him your name. “It’s very nice to meet you professor.” You reach out to shake his hand. He does not move to return the favor, but instead keeps his calculating eyes on you. The silence tics on as you wait, hand outstretched. Clearing your throat you drop it back to your side.

Finally, he speaks in an accented voice. “You may call me Dr. Kreizler. I have space for you there,” he gestures with a nod of his head to a desk in the corner. “I’ve taken the liberty of preparing a list of expectations for you. Should you have any questions or concerns I expect that you address them with me directly. You’ll note that I have included my personal number for work purposes only. I expect you to provide me with your own should I need you outside of contract hours. Do not contact me while you are intoxicated or you will be dismissed from this position.” To the point then, you blink at his directness. And presumptuous as hell to assume that you would even consider drunk texting him.

He briefly explains your role and clarifies some of the less detailed points on his list. The entire time he’s speaking his focus is on whatever work sits in front of him, not you. A beat passes once he’s done.

“Sounds great, thank you.” You had done your best to remain civil and polite, ignoring the ill-reviews in hopes to create your own opinion. Quite frankly, he wasn’t faring well so far.

He looks up at you; his eyes are piercing. Does he always look like he’s picking apart people like they are a specimen he’s studying?

“I suspect you have done your research on who I am, yet you are still present today. That is promising. But tell me, who are you?” he asks, sitting back in his chair.

You’ve never been good at talking about yourself when put on the spot. “Well I’m 26 years old, I graduated magna cum laude with a dual degree in history and political science. The last few years I’ve been working with the graduate studies program to get my doctorate in history. My thesis is on 1960s shifting cultural norms and the development and impact of countercultures on American society.”

“Have you considered the emerging role of sequence murderers in your studies?” He almost looks interested as he asks.

“Some, not as much as I would like yet, though. I suppose a perk of taking this position means you can give me some insight on that since you teach about it.” You give a little smile-shrug, hoping the statement will earn you some points with him.

He ignores it. “And what background in psychology do you have? Or do you even have any?”

You are a bit taken aback by his tone. “I took an introductory course with Professor Stratton during my undergrad years.”

“Hmm. That will have to suffice. In the meantime I would suggest you make haste with the reading I’ve left you. It’s best you spend this week with that so you can be most useful to me this semester.”

Looking through all the contents he’s left on your desk you see two books, a textbook, a few slide show print outs, and his syllabi - each marked up with his cursive and colored tabs to mark pages of importance. Sitting down, you give an inaudible sigh; this is going to be a long semester. You pick up the first syllabus and get to work.

Noon rolls around after what feels like a lifetime. Packing up all the materials he’s provided, you wish him a good afternoon. As you are walking through the door he calls out to you.

“Next time, do not be late.” You give him a confused look, seeing as you got there exactly at 8am. “On time is late,” he explains curtly.

“Noted.” You don’t catch the door as it all but slams closed.

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles

[tinyboxxtink]

"Weird Secret Friends" *Chapter 7*

Chapter 6

Chapter 8

I swear you guys I never know where these are gonna go, and then a plot just starts coming out itself. It's...starting to get dark, I won't lie to you. But not like-- super dark, no assault or anything. Just be wary reading this chapter, kay? Especially if you have any addiction issues.

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

@thatesqcrush

@shittanyy

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

A few hours later Rafael’s alarm went off, causing you to groan and pull a pillow over your head.

“It’s Saturday,” You whined. “Why do you have an alarm set on a Saturday?!”

“Lo siento, amante,” He leaned over and turned it off, then pulled you closer into him as he nuzzled your neck. “I have to go in today,”

“On a Saturday?!” You repeated yourself.

“It’s what grown ups do, carino,” He chuckled, to which you promptly turned to face him.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” You frowned at him.

“Nothing, amor,” He assured you. “I was only joking,”

“...Were you, though?” You narrowed your eyes.

“You’re not a morning person, are you?” He was still chuckling with a sleepy grin.

“Not when I’m being insulted I’m not!” You now sat up, completely unamused by his flippant remarks.

“Y/N,” He sat up as well, putting a hand on your shoulder and stroking your hair with the other. “I really was joking. You know if we’re going to...spend time together, you should really get used to my snarky sense of humor,”

“Oh should I?” You crossed your arms.

“Yes,” He nodded, his smile never leaving his face.

“....And what exactly do you mean by ‘spending time together’?” You raised an eyebrow.

“...Well, I don’t know, do you really want to label...this, right this second?” He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, now finally reaching an annoyed point.

“...No,” You replied softly while you picked at a loose thread on the comforter.

“Okay, well--” He started to kiss you, but you put a hand over his mouth.

“Uh uh, Romeo,” You shook your head. “If we’re going to ‘spend time together’, you should know I don’t kiss before brushing,”

“Noted,” He chuckled once more as he kissed the top of your forehead. “If you need a label, I think we stick to ‘weird secret friends,’

“Well I don’t know if that applies anymore,” You sighed. “Considering we are no longer secret and I don’t think friends sleep with each other,”

“Well then we’re still weird, are we not?” He pointed out.

“Ha Ha,” You rolled your eyes. “So friend, what am I supposed to do while you’re at work?”

“....Talk to Sonny?” He asked as he got out of the bed.

“Oh, great idea!” You feigned excitement. “I’ll be sure to really twist the knife in his back this time,”

“You’re so dramatic,” He shook his head with a smile. “Just talk to him,”

“There’s no point Rafael,” You objected. “Unless I stop seeing you, he’ll never forgive me,”

“Well first of all, I seriously doubt that’s true,” He disagreed. “And second of all, he’s going to be hurt whether we continue...seeing each other, or not. The bottom line is he’s upset he’ll never be with me,”

“...Does everything just lead back to you, counselor?” You asked him while he began to get dressed.

“Basically,” He teased while pulling on his pants.

“Look, you can call me selfish or arrogant, or cold hearted all you want,” He told you. “But just because you stand there in your moral ivory tower doesn’t mean you don’t feel the same way. You just don’t want to act on them,” He disappeared into his bathroom to brush his teeth.

“I’m sorry, and why is that a bad thing?” You called from his bed, an insulted tone obvious in your voice.

“Because it’s your life, Y/N!” He exclaimed as he reemerged from the bathroom, giving you a serious look. “It’s not mine, it’s not Sonny’s. You don’t have any responsibility for anyone else’s happiness but your own,”

“Well hurting my cousin doesn’t make me happy!”

“And being with me doesn’t either?” He asked with his own hurt tone while he buttoned his dress shirt. Your long pause made him stop and look at you, your head was looking at the floor in shame. “Y/N?”

“....It makes me the happiest I’ve probably been in my entire life,” You admitted, making him grin like a Cheshire cat. He finished buttoning his shirt and then walked backed towards the bed, wrapping you in his arms.

“Back at you, killer,” He pressed his forehead against yours before kissing you long a deep, crawling onto the bed. You began kissing for maybe a minute, then suddenly it dawned on him he still needed to go to work.

“Well, this might be a problem,” He pulled back from you and walked back to his closet now speeding up his routine. He grabbed his tie and began tying it quickly.

“...What is?” You looked at him quizzically.

“You’re clearly a distraction, amante,” He gave you a mischievous grin.

“Well I’ve been called worse,” You shrugged.

“I’m sure you have,” He teased.

“Hey!” You tossed a pillow at him, he dodged it effortlessly.

“Alright killer, I promise I'll be right back,” He grabbed his suit jacket and started to walk out of the bedroom. You trailed behind him, still stark naked.

“You sure you wanna leave all….this?” You presented yourself with an evil smile.

“Oh you are...you are diabolical, woman,” He eyed you up and down, kicking himself for making this meeting today of all days.

“Mmmhmm…” You raised your long leg up until it was right next to your face, reminding him how flexible you were.

“No,” He bit his fist. “No no no, I must go,” He shook his head and bolted out the door. You stared at it, shocked by his immediate departure. How rude! You scoffed and turned to go back to the bedroom to get dressed, just as the door swung open and Rafael rushed in, grabbing your naked body in a heated kiss.

“Okay, now I seriously have to go,” He sighed while taking a mental picture of your perfectly toned body.

“Fine,” You pouted. “See if I’m here when you get back,”

“Oh you better be,” He warned with a cheeky smile, walking back out the door and leaving you alone once again.

You quickly realized you might not have a choice to avoid Sonny, seeing as all you had were your still damp clothes from the night before. You grabbed them and tossed them in Rafael’s dryer while you paced the apartment in the t-shirt and boxers from the night before.

What would you say? What could you say?

-------

Later that day

You pulled up in front of Sonny’s apartment building and exited your Uber, thanking the driver before she drove away. You sighed and walked up to the stoop, ringing his box. There was a long silence, before you heard a woman’s voice:

“Hello? Sonny’s apartment,”

Who the hell was that?

“Um, yeah hi,” You stammered, completely taken aback by the turn of events. “I-I’m here for Sonny? It’s Y/N, his cousin…”

“Aw shit,” You heard Sonny’s voice muffled, before the buzzing of the door to let you inside. You walked into the building and headed up the stairs towards his apartment. As you reached his floor, you saw a blonde woman bolting out of his door, zooming past you and down the stairs. You looked at her for a moment before turning to stare at Sonny who just stood in the doorway.

“....And who was that?” You asked him curiously.

“Nobody, just a friend,” He dismissed you.

“A friend?” You half laughed. “Must be quite the friend,”

“You’re one to talk, with your stupid sneaky friends BS,” He snarked.

“...Weird secret friends,” You clarified in a small voice.

“Really, Y/N?” He asked you, unamused.

“Okay I’m sorry, you’re right--”

“Did you need something?” He crossed his arms as he leaned on his doorway.

“I um...I wanted to talk…”

“Did you now?”

“....And I need my clothes,” You gestured to the ‘walk of shame’ outfit you were still wearing.

“Ohhhh I see I see,” He nodded with a sarcastic laugh. “You needed your stuff so you can continue the sleepover with the honorable ADA?”

“Sonny--”

“Whatever, Y/N. I don’t wanna hear it. Just-- hold on,” He waved his hands in front of you as he disappeared into his apartment, his door slamming in your face. Soon he reappeared with your bag in tow, shoving it in your hands.

“There ya go, enjoy your weekend,” He started to shut the door but you put your foot in it.

“Sonny I’m not leaving until you hear me out,”

“...Fine,” He sighed and opened the door wider, letting you enter. You walked past him and sat on his couch. He walked to the couch and grabbed two beers, handing one to you as he sat on his armchair next to you.

“I um--” You started to say something, but you really needed it right now. Unfortunately, Sonny quickly realized his mistake and took yours back.

"Sorry, I forgot Sunshine," He apologized and grabbed a soda bottle from the fridge this time, and handed it to you.

“So,” He twisted the cap off his beer and took several big gulps, dreading this conversation already. “Talk,”

“Oh,” You hadn’t expected that. You hadn’t even expected to get in the door, let alone having to make some kind of speech.

Sonny knew that look in your eyes, the same look you had when you had forgotten the words to your song in your middle school talent show.

“Seriously, Y/N?” He shook his head with another sarcastic laugh. “You didn’t have anything prepared to say?”

“Well!” You took another swig of your soda

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” “You just show up here, chase off Amanda, and--”

“Amanda?” You quirked an eyebrow.

“Irrelevant, Sunshine,”

“Right…”

“And you don’t even have a defense ready for your boyfriend?” He finished his thought.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” You objected.

“Damn straight he’s not!” He agreed.

“....What is that supposed to mean?” You narrowed your eyes.

“Let me ask you something, Sunshine,” He put down his beer. “You slept together last night, right?”

“...Yeah,” You answered cautiously.

“And then this morning-- tell me, what did he do?”

“...Well he had to go into work," You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear nervously. You didn’t like where this was going.

"Uh huh" Sonny nodded with a smile.

“He DID” You insisted.

“Right, and did you guys even discuss what happens now?” He kept questioning you.

“Wha? We're not teenagers Sonny,” You rolled your eyes as you took bigger sips of your soda, wishing it was harder stuff. You didn’t like this at all.

“But you're not wondering? At All?”

“….We decided not to label it right now,” You answered softly, looking at the floor. You didn’t know why you were suddenly so nervous about that answer. Weren’t you the one who didn’t want to label it yet?

“Did you decide it or did he decide that?” Sonny read your mind, freaking you out even more.

“What are you doing?” You slammed the bottle on the table. You're upset I "stole" Rafael from you so now you're trying to get in my head?”

“No!” He protested. “But I know how he is, sunshine. I didn't want you involved with him solely because I...have a thing for him, he said the last uncomfortably. It's because I know how...frivolous he can be with relationships,”

“Oh my god,” You rolled your eyes with a laugh. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“I’m not fucking with you, sunshine!” He slammed his empty beer on the table angrily. “I’m serious,”

“Oh I’m sure you’re serious,” You nodded, still keeping your sarcastic tone.

“Look Sunshine,” He put a hand on your knee while lowering his voice to a softer, caring tone. “You can make excuses all you want. But I think you know me better than that. I wouldn’t tell you anything I didn’t explicitly believe,”

“...Yeah, I know,” You nodded in agreement, knowing he was right. He always looked out for your best interest, ever since you were a kid.

“So...will you at least think about what I’m saying?”

“What are you saying, Sonny?”

“I’m saying be careful, Sunshine,” He looked at you earnestly. “He can get bored very easy, and very fast,”

You thought to yourself that he couldn’t get tired of the ‘best sex of his life’ that quickly, but you’d never say that out loud to Sonny. Not unless you wanted him to have an aneurysm right in front of you. But then again, would you want him to want you around just for the sex, right?

“...I gotta go Son,” You glanced at your phone. “I promised him I’d be waiting for him when he gets home,”

“Seriously?” Sonny shook his head with yet another sarcastic laugh. “Damn Sunshine, you let him start working you fast,”

“Shut up,” You muttered uneasily as you got up from the couch and started to head out.

“Sunshine, one more thing,” He followed you to the door, you paused in the doorway to listen.

“Yes, Sonny?”

“...You know you always have a place here,” He gave you a big hug, you had missed this. You hugged him back tightly before pulling back and giving him a sincere smile.

“I know, Son,” You kissed him on the cheek and then began walking down the hall as he shut the door behind you.

He was just being his overprotective self….right?

---------

It was around eight that Rafael finally came back to the apartment. He found you stewing on the couch, half of his good vodka was gone.

“Uh….honey, I’m home?” He asked warily.

“Oh, are you?” You rolled your eyes, not bothering to get up,

“...What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” You scoffed. “What happened to “I’ll be right back?”

“...Stuff came up,” He mumbled.

“Seriously?” You half laughed. “Sonny was right,”

“Excuse me?” He took off his jacket and hung it up.

“I went to go get my stuff from Sonny’s,” You gestured to your own clothes you now had on. “And he told me to be careful with you,”

“Careful with me?” He laughed. “Like I’m breakable?”

“No!” You stood up. “Like you break other people,”

“Oh come on Y/N,” He rolled his eyes as he met you halfway in the living room. “Doesn’t that just sound like something he’d say to deter you from me?”

“He wasn’t saying it like that, Rafael,” You shook your head and crossed your arms. “He’s looking out for me, like he always has,”

“And what else did he say?” He eyed you suspiciously.

“He said…” You looked up at the ceiling. It was starting to swirl a bit, you rocked back and forth. Rafael noticed and quickly put both hands on your shoulders, knocking you from your daze.

“Y/N!” He cried as he led you back to the couch and sat you down. “Jesus, is this what you do when you’re upset?”

“...No,” You lied. You were in no shape and nowhere near close enough to him to start revealing dark secrets about yourself. You really should have thought that through. You had to recover from this, you didn’t want him to know.

“Are you sure about that?” He raised a questionable eyebrow, not believing you for a second.

“...This isn’t about me, this is about how you get bored of women-- and men, I assume,”

“What?” He blinked in confusion. “Is that what Carisi said?”

“Maybe,” You grabbed the glass of vodka and started to sip it, but Barba snatched it out of your hand.

“I think you’ve had enough of that,” He told you, his concern growing more by the second the more he looked at you.

“Great,” You muttered, focusing on the TV.

“Hey, Hey!” Rafael snapped at you. “We’re not done talking,”

“Alright, fine,” You turned off the TV. “You wanna talk? Tell me about the t-shirt,”

“...I’m not having this conversation with you when you’re like this,” He shook his head and stood up to go to his bedroom.

“You’re the one who said you wanted to talk, Rafael!” You threw your hands up. “So let’s talk about it-- or even better, let’s talk about the drawer full of girl’s clothes you have,”

“You went through my drawers?!” He snapped. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“Are they mementos? Gifts? Trophies?” You stood up, wobbling towards him.

“Trophies?” He scoffed while putting his hands over his face in frustration. “God dammit Y/N...I…”

“You what?” You crossed your arms, steadying yourself.

“I can't deal with...this,” He gestured to you.

“With what?” You suddenly felt a wave of dread. You’d seen that look before. Many, many times. From many, many people.

“With THIS, with YOU,” He walked up to you and walked you back to the couch.

“You’re clearly more fucked up than I thought, and I-- I can’t be your emotional support fuck buddy,” He went on as he grabbed a pillow and blanket from a closet.

“Wow...wow,” You felt tears choking your throat. “So that’s what I am, a fuck buddy?”

“I don’t--- I don’t know,” He rubbed his face, sitting down on the couch next to you.

“Really? Because twelve hours ago you were sitting here and telling me that- that I meant something to you,” You started to cry.

“You do!” He put a hand to your face. “You...you do, I just…” He looked at your sorry state. “I don’t know what to do with you,” Rafael was kicking himself for getting you both in this mess; he wasn’t equipped to deal with someone so unstable. Maybe it was a one time thing, a fluke.

“Look just-- just sleep it off and we’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay?”

“I don’t…” You whimpered. “I don’t want to,”

“Well, we have to talk about it--”

“No,” You stopped him. “I don’t want to sleep it off in here, alone,” You gestured to the couch, the bed he clearly had made for you to sleep in.

“I…” He sighed, finally conceding and picking you up to carry you to his bed.

“Alright baby, alright,” He placed you on his bed and laid down next to you until you fell asleep, then he got up and went into the living room, kicking a pillow across the floor in rage and upset, falling against the wall with his head in between his knees.

What the fuck did he get himself into?

[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.  

[kvj-novels]

Senku x fem named!reader

Hello! I’m currently obsessed with Dr. Stone and in love with a leek-haired man sO i kinda wanted to write a fanfic and in literally 12 hours I’ve written 10k+ words and I’m not even done yet oops

Rating: this chapter is E for everyone though there is some mild language

Warnings: this fic has elements of smut and a mention of eating disorders THIS CHAPTER DOES NOT CONTAIN THE CONTENT WITH THESE WARNINGS.

Summary: Imogen has been awakened from petrification but she suffers from amnesia upon waking up. Senku and Taiju - her lover and childhood friend (respectively) before the petrification - must do their best to help her recall her past life.

Smut summary: soft sex, first time, no warnings but very NSFW.

Chapter One

The first thing I felt was a cracking, like my skin was peeling off. My mind was waking up from a deep slumber as this feeling continued. I desperately wanted to scratch but my limbs wouldn’t move.  A crack of sunlight blinded me and all at once I felt my body release from some  kind of shell. The cracking and itching stopped. I opened my eyes. 

Two kind faces stared at me. 

The second thing I felt was the cold breeze on my skin. I looked around for a moment, noting the forest of trees before settling back on the kind faces.  The last thing I felt before I suddenly felt everything all at once, was the need to vomit. I turned, doubling over on to my hands and knees and hurled at the ground behind me. 

“Oh my,” a woman spoke. “take it easy.” She put a hand on my back. “You’ve been asleep for a long time. This reaction is common so don’t be scared.” A cloth came into my view, I took it and wiped my mouth, then turned back to the two people.  A woman with blonde hair and green eyes.  A man with black hair and brown eyes. He grinned at me, apparently unphased by my horrible first impression.  “I’m Chrome.” He said, then pointed to the woman. “This is Ruri.” She smiled and waved. “I know this all probably seems much different from what you last remember, do you have any questions?” I stared blankly. “Where...am I?” My throat burned as I spoke. The acid from the vomit still lining my throat.  “You’re in Japan.” She said. “Though it has been 3,700 years from the last time you saw it.” “Do you have a name?” The man named Chrome asked.  I opened my mouth to spit out my name because of course I had one.

Didn’t I?

I closed my mouth, my teeth clamping together. I couldn’t remember.  The smiles on the two strangers faces faded. Ruri put a hand on my shoulder.  “Do you remember what happened to you?” She asked.  I looked down to think. A pile of rock surrounded my feet and a vague memory of a green light crawled into my head. Nothing more.  I shook my head.  “We should go back,” Ruri said to the man.  “Oh, but we have two more on schedule to wake up.” Chrome responded.  “But we’ve never encountered something like this, Chrome. Senku would know what to do and I don’t want to frighten her any more.” Chrome thought for a moment. “You’re right. Let’s head back to camp for the others and we’ll leave for home from there.” Ruri turned back to me, her kind smile lighting up her face again. “Will you trust us? We’ll take you home and have our friend help you. He’ll cure your mind I promise.” I didn’t see why I couldn’t trust them. I shook my head and took the woman’s hand when she offered it to me.  “What would you like us to call you until you can remember your real name?” She asked. They walked together and I followed, my bare feet stumbling over the forest floor.  “I..I don’t know.” “Mm, I say we call you Emerald.” Chrome said, a hand on his chin. I looked over at him confused.  “Your eyes,” he clarified. “they’re a very deep green like an emerald.” Then he smiled. “Emmy for short if you like.” I nodded. “Emerald is fine, it’s kinda pretty.” I gave a half hearted smile. We walked together for a while until we made it to a camp. Chrome was enthusiastically telling me about their adventures. Unpetrifying people. Fighting off villains.  It all sounded a bit ridiculous. But Ruri confirmed everything. And with a much more solemn attitude. Only because of her did I actually think Chrome’s tales were true.  At the camp a handful of people sat around a fire. Some food was cooking over the flame.  “These are people that we unpetrified just before you. They only just woke up themselves. One only since this morning.” Ruri said quietly, stopping a few yards away from the camp. “Do they all remember?” She shook her head. “We’ve not had anyone who didn’t remember.” I frowned a bit.  “Don’t worry!” She said in a voice that was desperate to keep someone happy. “I’m sure Senku can give you the cure all drug to help.” She brushed a strand of my hair back behind my ear and led me into the camp.  “Emerald!” A woman called out. “Chrome says that’s your name right?” I gave a tentative nod. “Come sit with me, we’ve got dinner cooked.” I sat by the fire with her, definitely grateful for some food. She handed me a bowl and looking down at it, the sight filled me with a warmth.  I smiled, almost crying.  “What’s wrong?” The woman asked.  “I know this food...” I said softly. “Ramen...I remember it.” “That’s great, Emerald!” Ruri said as she sat down with us. “Maybe things will come back slowly, just give it time.” “What’s the matter?” The woman asked, still confused.  “Emerald doesn’t remember what happened to her and nor does she know her real name.” Ruri said.  “Amnesia?” The woman said. “Damn...that’s gonna be rough.” I sat quietly and ate the ramen, listening to the people talk. They all introduced themselves differently throughout dinner.  The men were Hiro, Benni and Jackson. The woman who offered me food was Hinata.  Once dinner was finished, Chrome announced that we would be leaving for home once we got everything packed up. He said we weren’t too far and if we could manage, we’d be there by morning.  The group agreed.  “What’s the hurry for?” Hiro asked.  “We need to get Emerald to Senku.” He simply said. I did my best to help everyone pack up but I had no clue what went where. And my body seemed pretty sluggish. Ruri had the most patience with me. She only smiled and said it was alright.  We set out very shortly after eating. Everything was packed tightly into backpacks that the men carried. Chrome was leading the party through the forest. He never faltered even as the sun set and night time creeped in.  Several hours into the journey we came to a small clearing in the forest. Chrome stopped. “Grab the blankets and take a bit of a break.” He said. “It’s getting pretty cold tonight so rest up and warm up for a few hours. We’ll begin again after that.” The men passed out the blankets but kept everything else packed. Chrome started a small fire to help everyone warm up a bit. I sat by the fire with the blanket. My body was tired but my brain was running at a thousand miles per hour. I wanted to sleep but every time I closed my eyes I remembered the darkness that I was only just brought out of and without even realizing, my eyes would be open again. Staring at the flames.  Some time went by and Chrome woke from his nap. He woke everyone else, put out the fire and we began again. 

With the moon setting in the horizon I saw a village in the distance lit up by small flames on a tall pole. We were close.

*********

Tag list: @viskafrer @bee-cakes Please DM me if you like to be added to the tag list!

[mymostimaginaryfriend]

between a heart & a hard place

♛ 5x05: Teresa and James plan the heist (1.9k words; rating T; tags: missing scene, weaponized jazz music, angsty dancing)

➢ read on ao3 or below the cut:

The Van Gogh was beautiful. It was a shame they’d have to cut it from the frame, yet Teresa knew better than most that no beauty survived long in this world without collecting a few scars. So while it was a shame, it wasn't enough to stop her. Indeed, it’d be one of the only decisions she’d been forced to make lately that she wouldn’t lose any sleep over tonight.

Losing Kostya wasn’t an option. The pain of lost beauty was nothing compared to the pain of lost power.

They gathered in the hotel lobby, using the private concert by a semi-famous jazz pianist as cover for some recon. Kelly Anne gamely chatted up the hotel owner while Pote stifled a yawn and nursed his beer. James leaned casually against the bar, seemingly entranced by the music. It was only because she knew him so well that she could see the relaxed demeanor hid a man at work, busy formulating a plan. He hadn’t said much about his time away, but it was hard to believe any of it had involved art heists.

She felt a frisson of worry about putting him in unfamiliar, possibly dangerous territory but she knew better than to underestimate him. It was a lesson she’d learned the first day they’d met.

She followed his gaze to the piano, wondering what he was studying there. Teresa had never thought herself a jazz fan before moving to New Orleans, but it had become the soundtrack of her triumphs and heartaches over the past year. She found herself drawn to the melancholy of it, the soaring heights of a trombone, the plaintive pleas of a piano. Rising, falling, rising again. Even now, each soulful note plucked at her heartstrings with the simple strike of a key.

The song was beautiful, perhaps James was merely getting lost for a moment in the music. He’d said she’d changed and she had, but she wasn’t the only one. When he’d left, there’d been sharp edges, edges that should have been honed to lethal blades by his work with Devon and yet the James who had returned had a softness she was unprepared for. A sort of fragile vulnerability that made her want to shelter it from the wind like a flickering candle flame, to nurture and feed it until it was strong enough to warm her too. Her throat ached at the knowledge of how easily it could be snuffed out.

She’d almost done it herself this past week. It’d hurt to see the light in his eyes dim when he looked at her but that had been what she wanted, hadn't it? This distance between them. If it wasn’t easy, it was necessary. She’d rather let the sun set between them than watch the light in his eyes permanently go out because of her.

Emotional attachments equaled vulnerability. Romantic attachments could get you killed. She had needed someone once and his loss had nearly destroyed her. She felt in her bones she wouldn't be able to survive losing James. If she let him into her heart, his death would take that vital organ with him. For as much as she thought about the future these days, there was a part of her relentlessly certain in the knowledge that they’d never get there. Not in one piece.

That didn’t stop her from wanting to reach out to him though—for comfort, maybe, or reassurance.  Perhaps it was the thought he no longer understood her that hurt the most, that made her want to seek communion with him skin to skin if not soul to soul. But that wouldn’t be fair to him, to push him away then pull him close just because she desperately needed someone—him—to tell her it’d be okay. That it was all worth it. She suspected his silence these last few days was answer enough.

It was for the best. The higher the climb, the longer the fall. She couldn’t afford weakness and neither could he. If he was no longer able to be as ruthless, then she would have to be ruthless enough for the both of them.

The song ended and she turned back to James to find that he wasn’t studying the room anymore. He was studying her, his expression inscrutable.

His gaze, like the silence between them, was heavy with unsaid words, words that might never be spoken at all but most certainly not here in public. Best to get back to business.

“You have a plan?” she asked, grateful that her voice remained steady.

He nodded.

“Walk me through it,” she murmured, eyes drawn back to the painting in question.

“Dance with me.”

Her attention snapped back to his face at his surprise counter offer. She’d expected a cool recitation of information—sight lines, security cameras, escape routes—not a softly uttered invitation to be close to him, to touch him for the first time since that night in New York.

“James,” she began, not sure if she meant it as the prelude to a warning or an apology.

A flash of emotion was quickly smoothed away by his normal mask of professionalism. “Relax,” he said, pushing off the bar. “I just need a reason to be in the northwest quadrant of the room.”

She shot him a questioning look and the corner of his mouth ticked up in muted amusement. “The dance floor,” he clarified, holding out a hand.

Right. Of course. The plan. Just business, just how she wanted it. She ignored Kelly Anne’s double take and took James’ hand, letting him lead her to the far side of the small dance floor.

Once it would have been a simple thing to step into his arms, but as the first few notes of the next song began, she hesitated. He might not recognize the tune, but after being a bar owner in New Orleans for over a year, she sure did.

They’re writing songs of love, but not for me. A lucky star’s above, but not for me.

If he noticed any significance, he hid it well, guiding one of her hands to his shoulder and holding the other against his chest. His other hand found her waist and turned her smoothly in the direction he needed to surveil.

She didn’t speak, letting him work in silence. She tried to concentrate on the people around them, the sound of the piano, the lights of the city beyond the windows, anything but the warmth of his body, not under the usual leather jacket, but the expensive fabric of his suit, his scent of new cologne and old cigarettes as foreign as it was familiar.

After a moment, he pulled her closer, leaning down to murmur near her ear. “We’ll do a smoke bomb, smash and grab. Extract the painting, ditch the van. Travel by motorcycle to the drop-off.”

“We?” Teresa asked, a little breathless. Some not small part of her wished she could watch him in action, especially in the kind of situation when no one was shooting back at them.

“Me,” James corrected. “You’ll be at the rendezvous point with Pote. I’ll use a two-man team—”

“One of the men?” Teresa asked. She trusted the crew that had accompanied her to Berlin to handle security but wasn’t sure who she’d recommend for a job that required the finesse of art theft.

“I know a guy nearby,” James told her and she let out a breath of laughter. Of course he did.

“You know everyone.” She turned to smile up at him but was taken aback by the seriousness of his expression.

“Not everyone.”

His words, or maybe the weight behind them, had her wondering if he was thinking of her.

She had done her best to hide her inner turmoil over the events of the last week. Suppressing her guilt and remorse over turning in Marcel. Hiding any misgivings she had about ordering the hit on the crooked cop with defensiveness or dismissal. She was la Jefa, it would do no good for anyone to see her doubts. So she'd put on strong front but hadn’t realized until now how much she’d depended on James seeing through it.  He always had before.

“You think we made a mistake,” she ventured, allowing space for his answer to clarify what was specifically bothering him the most. Perhaps it was vindictive of her to use “we” but distance or not they were still in this together.

James looked away. “It’s over now.”

“That’s not an answer,” she pressed.

He frowned, hesitating. “I did. I don’t know. You were right, the feds were ready to raid us. Bringing in Gamble would have been their next step.”

It was almost shameful, the intensity of the relief that washed over her at his words. But by James' grim expression, it seemed he grew even more troubled by the admission. 

“But?”

He glanced at her, eyes bleak. “His wife was home. She found him while I was still there.”

Teresa’s heart dropped in her chest. She knew from the news reports that there’d only been one victim that night but looking into James’ eyes she saw that it haunted him. The future that might have been. He’d have killed the wife too if she’d caught him. He’d have killed her for them.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, letting her hand find the tender skin of his neck and the staccato rhythm of his heart beat. “I’m sorry. But…”

His eyes briefly fluttered shut. “I know.”

If she couldn’t help herself from holding onto him a little tighter, it seemed he welcomed her momentary lapse. His hand sliding to the small of her back to draw her nearer until they were touching the entire lengths of their bodies, their only attempt at dancing a slight swaying from side to side.

“I just want to keep you safe,” he said, resting his cheek against her temple. She felt the old familiar panic at the implied even from yourself, but this wasn’t like Phoenix. He wasn’t trying to make decisions for her.  

Couldn’t he see that she wished the same safety for him? That everything she did was in pursuit of this shared goal?

“I didn’t think I’d be back here,” he continued, slowing their sway until he was just holding her. “And now...hope is a dangerous thing. It draws your attention to the horizon instead of keeping it on the danger right in front of you.”

She wondered if he was feeling it too: the walls closing in from every angle, the same echoing dread that haunted her midnight hours.  The ever narrowing window of daylight to that future someday.

But as the final notes of the song were played, even as the distance between them didn’t seem as vast anymore, even if for a moment she entertained the idea of not letting go, of leading him back up to the suite to finish repairing with their bodies what she’d bruised with her words, she knew that if they had any hope at all of that other life, they had work to do now.

James, as always, understood that better than anyone. He released her and smiled, eyes once again lit from within.

Many, many hours later while she waited in a safe location as he once again risked life and limb and freedom at her request, Teresa tried not to give too much credence to the sickening feeling in her stomach that the danger he’d mentioned earlier, the danger right in front of him that threatened their much dreamed about future…

....might end up being her.

(ao3)

[jae-daddy]

Blind

jaebum!dickhead 

masterlist

pairing: jaebum x reader genre: angst plot: you overhear your boyfriend Jaebum and his friends talking rudely about you.  a/n: this was written a long time ago lol. I thought I’d post it instead of deleting it. not edited. hope y’all like it

“Dude, I can’t believe she followed you here,” you heard Yugyeom, as you neared the pool table the boys were surrounding.

Your eyes easily found Jaebum, as he leaned forward to take a shot. His black leather jacket stretching over his broad shoulders, his hair styled in a perfectly messy way. Even with his back towards you, you still felt butterflies flutter in your tummy as you thought of the way he looked tonight.

You thought back to the car ride. His hand on your thigh, inching higher until it slipped under your short skirt. He loved it when you wore short skirts and tight tops. It drove him crazy, he could never keep his hands off you. 

Just as he had struggled to keep himself from parking his car at some random place and fuck you before you reached the party. You remember his throaty growl as he ripped his hand away from tracing your panty and to the steering wheel. 

His jaw tight as his clenched the wheel, his knuckles turning white. 

“I won’t be able to stop if I start baby,” he looked over at you, his eyes dark and filled with promise. You wanted him to do it, you didn’t care about this party. 

But Jaebum did. 

It was his friend’s party, and as a part of the popular kids troupe, he needed to show up. 

“She didn’t follow him, she just misunderstood,” Youngjae clarified, his voice teasing. “Right, Jaebum?”

You stopped in your tracks, feeling your stomach drop.

“You really need to learn to draw boundaries with her bro,” Jackson told Jaebum as he missed a shot. You saw Jaebum grimace at the missed shot, before looking up to meet Jackson’s eyes. When he didn’t say anything, Jackson sighed, “She can’t keep following you-”

“Y/n is not following me,” Jaebum cut him off. You let go of the breath you were holding in, the tight line your lips were drawn into relaxed slightly.

“Was she invited?” Nate asked, shooting Jaebum a knowing smirk.

“No,” Jaebum sighed.

“Did you invite her?”

“Well, no.”

You felt like you were about to vomit. 

“Y/n is always clinging to your side,” Nick told him, before taking a sip of his beer. “You are never free to do anything. You are always with her, it’s like y’all are in a relationship.

“If you were hitting that, then I’d support you, bro,” Yugyeom mumbled, shrugging.

“Yeah right,” Nate snorted. “like anyone would hit that.”

You watched Jaebum, waiting for him to say something, but he didn’t. He just stared at Nate, with a grimace barely noticable.

“Dude, be honest,” Nate smiled at Jaebum, “would you hit that?”

When Jaebum didn’t reply, Nate’s smile grew bigger, “Has she tried hooking up with you?”

You felt sick.

Your mind instantly went to that night when you had kissed Jaebum. The night that had started it all. You were at a party just like this, and somehow you both ended up in the same bedroom hiding away. 

You were waiting for your friend to finish hooking up and were tired to creeps so you hid the room. Jaebum stumbled in a few minutes later. 

You were scared at first, thinking it was a drunk boy. You were terrified because the music was so loud you weren’t sure if anyone would be able to hear you if you had screamed for help.

But your panic turned into interest as you saw the staggering figure straighten as they closed the door. You watched Jaebum fall onto the bed and let out an exhausted sigh. You saw him pull out his phone, dialling someone as he pinched his nose, “Hello, 911?” 

Jaebum wouldn’t let you out of his sight after he spotted you. You knew too much. You had the power to ruin his popularity. So you ended up spending the whole night with Jaebum, talking about random things. 

By the end of the night, you realised there was more to him then the superficial bad boy act he puts up. You couldn’t help yourself but kiss him before you had to leave. 

it felt like a final goodbye. You knew that after that night ended, you would never get the chance again. So you took the chance, you kissed him. 

And, he kissed you back. 

He had pulled you in, bringing you to his lap. He had stopped you two before things got too heated. And then, he snuck into your bedroom for more late night conversations. 

Jaebum had asked you to be his girlfriend a month ago. A month had passed and no one knew that you and Jaebum were together. People thought it was a unlikely pair, but it was friendship at most. 

“No way!” Yugyeom gasped, “For real? What happened?”

Jaebum just shook his head. You could see the smug smile on his face, and it hurt your heart.

Just an hour ago, he was holding back from railing you in the backseat of his car. 

You snapped out of your thoughts as you watched Jaebum move around the table. You watched his face as he spoke. 

“I told her I was coming here tonight, and she kind of just tagged along,” Jaebum sighed, ignoring the comments. He scratched the back of his head nervously, as he studied the guys staring at him. The other boys looked at him with knowing looks as they shook their heads. “I know I should’ve clarified, but I feel bad for her.”

You were actually going to be sick. You dug your nails into your palms, biting your lip tightly to stop yourself from crying in the middle of the party. You knew you should walk away, but you wanted to hear it. Even as it hurt your heart.

Even if it felt like Jaebum sunk his claws into your chest and wrenched your heart out. You wanted to hear what your boyfriend had to say about you.

There was Im Jaebum, your boy friend, standing in a group with his friends, talking about how he felt bad for you.

You felt your heart sink, and your stomach churn, as you heard him continue.

“She's been through a lot. None of her friends talk to her anymore, I can’t just tell her to buzz off,” Jaebum explained, his voice coated with desperation wanting his friends to understand, to agree with his justification. “And it’s not too bad. She’s here doing her thing, and I’m doing mine.”

“Bro,” Yugyeom gave him a dry look, snorting at Jaebum, “how can you be doing your thing when you can’t even hook up with other girls because you have to take her home?”

“I don’t need to-”

“Sara is here,” Youngjae smirked at Jaebum. You saw Jaebum freeze at her name. He had said her name a few times to you before, “She asked about you.”

“Bro!” Yugyeom gaped at Jaebum who still hadn’t found it in himself to start moving again. “Sara!”

Finally, Jaebum leaned against the table. His hands grabbing the edge, as his shoulders fell with his head as he sighed, “Fuck.”

“You could be hooking up with Sara but you’re stuck babysitting,” Youngjae laughed.

“Hey, but she looked kind of all right tonight,” Nate shrugged. “That little crop top of hers really shows those,” he held up his hands in front of him gesturing to your boobs. “I mean, I would pity fuck that. Give her the gift of knowing a good time.”

Your feet began moving backwards as you started moving away from the group. You couldn’t hear anymore. You can’t stand there and watch as your boyfriend acted like you didn’t matter to him. You can’t stand there, listen and pretend that what they said didn’t hurt you, that it didn’t hurt you that Im Jaebum might have never loved you at all. 

You bumped into someone, and you turned around apologising.

You didn’t want to hear what else they had to say. You didn’t want to see how else Jaebum would let them talk about you. You didn’t want to find out how Jaebum thought of you.

“Shit, sorry,” you whispered, your voice shaking. You lifted your gaze to find soft brown ones looking at you with sympathy. His hands gently rested on your shoulders as he steadied your stumbling feet.

“It’s okay,” Mark said, softly. He was part of their group. If he wasn’t behind you, he would probably be standing next to Jackson, laughing along with them. You didn’t want his sympathy. 

You didn’t want anything from him. 

Your eyes began burning as his eyes drifted behind to the group of boys laughing, before settling back on you.

“Are you okay?” Mark asked. You brushed his hands off your shoulders and took a step back.

You didn’t meet his eyes as you nodded, unable to speak.

You walked around him, and headed straight for the door. You didn't look back at Jaebum or stop until you were outside the house. 

Even then, you kept walking down the street, your feet picking up speed as you tried running away from the loud noises in your head.

You felt sick, you felt tired.

Your heart broke into a tiny million pieces as their words kept replying in your mind. But that’s not what broke you.

The thing that hurt you the most was Jaebum. He didn’t do anything, he didn’t say anything. He just let them, he laughed with them, he agreed with them.

You stopped when your lungs started to burn, and you couldn't go any further. 

You called for an Uber and waited on the side of the road. You stared at your phone, waiting for Jaebum to notice you were missing. 

You wanted him to text you, to call you. You wanted him worry about you, to show any proof that he did like you back. Even a silver of how much you loved him, you wanted even the slightest of his love back. 

It was all you needed to help you stay together and not fall apart. 

You stared at the screen as the Uber pulled up. You stared at it all through the ride. You didn’t look up as you thanked the driver. 

You locked the door as you entered your house. You stared at the phone, biting your lips. 

You shouldn’t send him anything. He hadn’t even noticed. 

But then, against your better judgement, you decided to send it, ‘I’m home.’

You changed and got into your bed, covering yourself with your blankets. 

You didn’t shower. You were too tired to shower. You were too tired to do anything. You were too tired to even close your eyes and pretend to go to sleep. 

You knew sleep wasn’t going to come easily tonight. Not when you kept on thinking about the smile on Jaebum’s face as he listened to his friends talk about you. Not when you remembered the way his shoulders and head slummed with defeat when he found out Sara had asked about him. 

There was no way sleep was coming easy to you when all you wanted to do was cry.

You didn’t cry though.

You tried not to cry, you tried to hold back the tears, at first. But then, you couldn’t stop them. The tears silently rolled down your face, as you lay on your side.

You felt the pillow get wet, but you ignored it as you blankly stared at the wall instead. Your hands desperately clenched the blanket, as you tried to calm yourself down, before you began uncontrollably sobbing. 

Jaebum’s reply came a few minutes later. ‘What?’

‘Are you alright?’

‘Are you sleeping?’

‘Should I come over?’

After five minutes, your phone rang.

You saw Jaebum’s name on the phone. 

Your chest ached seeing his name on the phone. You wanted to pick it up. 

But, you ignored it and turned the phone over as you slipped it under your pillow.

It rang again, and again. Three more times, before you picked it up.

“What the fuck?!” He gnarled into the phone, you could hear the wind rushing past him. It sounded like he was speeding somewhere. 

You didn’t say anything, just waited for him to continue.

“Are you okay? Why did you leave early?”

“I’m okay,” you rasped, your voice hurting your throat. “I don’t feel well. I’m going to sleep.”

“You sound horrible,” Jaebum replied softly, the panic in his voice subsiding. The softness in his voice made new tears escape down your face. You moved away from the phone and wiped your tears.“Do you want me to come over, babe?”

You hated it. 

You hated how your heart trembled when he called your baby. 

“No,” you rasped, your lower lip trembling as you held back a sob, “I just need to be alone.”

You sniffled your nose as you swallowed, your vision blurring.

Jaebum remained quiet for a moment, the wind rushing past slowing down now, “Okay, take care. Call me tomorrow, okay, babe?”

“Goodbye, Jaebum,” was all you said before ending the call.

You didn't hold it back anymore.

Your body curled into a ball, as it began shaking furiously as sobs raked through you.

Your hand clasped over your mouth as you sobbed into the dark night.

Your heart, broken and bleeding by the one boy you had trusted.

[the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo]

Missed Opportunities | Helmut Zemo x Reader | Chapter 4

Good morning, afternoon, evening fam. Hope you all are doing good.

Here's the next installment of Missed Opportunities. There's one chapter left. Hopefully this one will be enough to tide you over to the finale.

Thank you for all the continued support. Love you all.

-----

Tag-List:

@ajeff855 @vrsidae @greeneyedblondie44 @bbakugaan03 @somethingthatsaysbubbles @lieutenantn @aisling1985 @fillechatoyante @maria-chwan @neoarchipelago @lostghostgirl94 @whovianayesha @mochminnie @fanfics-ig @congurl @ay0nha

Did I miss someone? For future tag requests: Please send me a direct message if possible, it’s easy to lose people in the mix and I don’t want to miss anyone!

For previous chapters go here: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Word Count: 2,462

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

You were violently woken up in the middle of the night. At some point, during the early hours of the morning, you must have rolled over onto your side. The movement caused your bruised body to send a jolt of stinging pain to your brain, immediately causing you to jerk awake.

You squeezed your eyes shut and took deep breaths to ride out the wave of agony. After the pain subsided, you let out a small groan and attempted to situate yourself again. You failed to find any real rest after that incident and faded in and out of sleep until you could see dawn about to break. Through your restlessness, you thought you could hear faint murmurs and reassurances in your ear.

Delirium must have set in, because when you woke up for good this time, you realized you had a blanket covering your body and a heaviness on your left hand.

You lolled your head to the side to avoid the faint rays of sunlight streaming into the room. You blinked several times before peering down at your hand, which you now noticed, was being held by another person.

Remembering the previous night's events, your eyes travelled up the arm of the person holding your hand, tracking all the way until you landed on the person's face.

Zemo.

He was still here with you and apparently had fallen asleep during the night.

You swallowed thickly and not because of the throbbing pain coursing through you. Your eyes flicked up to the nightstand to see the book he was reading placed neatly at the corner.

He chose to stay.

Your eyes moved back to look at Zemo. To really look at him. He seemed so much younger in his sleep. The tense concentration lining the features of his face each day were gone. The weight of his decisions and promises he made to himself given a reprieve. You wondered when the last time was he truly slept.

For all the wrongs he had done, the choices he had made, he did so out of grief and love. He's a complicated man to be sure. For all his darkness, there is still a light that shines brightly in him.

Though you disagreed with his methods of avenging his family, you knew from his actions, that when Helmut Zemo loved, he loved with his entire being. There was no question about it.

For this one moment, you decided to give in. You softly brushed your thumb back and forth against the skin of the hand holding yours. If you could give him one brief second of comfort, you hoped it was this.

You smiled to yourself as you watched Zemo snuffle in his slumber and unconsciously tighten his grip on your hand, but not uncomfortably.

You had the irrational urge to run your fingers through his hair, but he was sitting too far out of your reach. So you settled for continuing to stroke gentle touches along his hand.

His presence was calming. Safe. There was no where else you wanted to be right now.

You looked up to the ceiling to glance at the digital clock projecting the time. 5:42AM. Definitely too early. You wondered if Bucky and Sam had returned from their outing last night.

If you were to guess, you'd think not, because they most likely wouldn't have allowed Zemo to stay with you the whole evening.

You twist your neck up to the night stand and tried to grab your phone with your bad arm. It wasn't your best idea. You had full range of motion again since Bucky popped your shoulder back into place, but the soreness was downright breath-taking, and coupled with your ribs, you were wheezing with effort to retrieve the phone.

Your finger tips manage to grab the edge of the phone. You attempted to scoot it closer to you so you could grip it better. Unfortunately, you ended up clumsily knocking the phone onto the floor with a clatter, arousing your companion out of his sleep.

Zemo snapped to attention immediately. With his years of military experience, it would disappoint you if he didn't.

He quickly assessed the room before his gaze landed on you. The tension in his body released once he realized there was no threat. His eyes dropped to the hand he was holding.

You could see his brow furrow in confusion, as if he didn't know how his hand got to be where it currently was. Zemo tilted his head in thought, eyes never leaving where your hands were joined together. You could see an indecisiveness written across his face. After a beat, he seemed to resign himself to whatever was running through his mind, because he sighed heavily and gave a sad smile. Then he gently lifted your arm towards him to place a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

"Hi," you shyly responded. Zemo's kiss was just the barest brush of his lips against your skin, but it was electric all the same. You were too stunned by his action to do or say anything else except stare.

"Morning," he rasped quietly. His voice was still riddled with the remnants of someone who had just woken up. He brought your hand back to the bed as he made a move to sit up in his chair more appropriately, "How are you feeling?"

You cleared your throat and licked your lips as you take stock of your injuries before answering him, "Been better. Could have been a lot worse."

"That's not what I asked," he said, clearly unimpressed with your attempt to dodge answering him properly.

"I'm in pain; however, it is manageable," you answer him honestly. You felt he deserved that for having stayed with you the entire evening, and you didn't want him feeling guilty over whatever it was that was eating at him.

You maneuvered yourself to swing your legs over the bed captiously and sort out your stiff limbs without making any sudden quick movements. Zemo silently held out his arm in an offer of assistance, should you need it.

"Are Sam and Bucky not back yet? I can't imagine they would let you stay here and watch over me," you glanced at Zemo, trying to make light of the heaviness hanging in the room. You used your good arm to brace yourself on the nightstand next to you to push off of and stand up.

Zemo lowered his arm and stood up from his seat once he saw you were okay to move about on your own. You saw him turn his head towards the door which was cracked opened slightly before facing you fully.

"They did come back briefly early this morning to check on you. And you are correct, James did, in fact, kick me out, but both he and Sam left again for a few hours. They should be making their return soon. I must have dozed off at some point when I came back to check on you, so thank you for waking me. I would like to avoid a confrontation from either Sam or James," Zemo worded carefully.

You felt as if he were leaving something out, but decided against calling him out on it.

"I appreciate you staying, but you didn't really need to," you replied earnestly, shrugging a shoulder.

"On the contrary, I am the reason you are in the state you are in. It was the very least I could do," Zemo said.

You knitted your brow together and moved to look at Zemo more closely. Lips pursed, it was your turn to be confused.

"I'm not following. You weren't even here when everything went down with Walker yesterday," you expressed slowly and hesitantly.

Maybe it was just too early in the morning to have sensible conversation.

Zemo shook his head and stepped close enough that you could smell his cologne again. He raised his hand to trace the bruise forming across your collarbone.

"Walker was searching for me. And you, you put yourself in harm's way to protect me, indirectly as it was. Whatever your reasonings were, I cannot remember the last time someone was willing to show such an act of resilience, of kindness towards me. And for that, I owe you my deepest and most sincere thanks," Zemo clarified to you. It did not go unnoticed the hidden layer of emotion laced in his voice as he spoke to you.

You could have just brushed his comment off with an excuse that Walker was such a pain in the ass, you refused to give him up on the preface you simply wanted to piss him off.

But that would be a lie, mostly.

Instead you grabbed Zemo's hand, the one that was tracing your battle scars from the previous day and lifted it high enough so that you could wrap your right arm lightly around his torso and your left arm around his shoulders and into a hug.

As you snuggled up against him, careful not to disrupt your injuries, you turned your head so that your nose barely touched his jaw and whispered into his ear, "You're welcome."

Unlike the first hug the two of you shared, there were no death grips this time. This hug held so much more. An acceptance of one another. A promise.

Reluctantly, you untangled yourself from Zemo to peer up at him.

His gaze roamed over your face, searching. He brought his hand back up to rub his thumb gently over your cheek.

He had that look on his face again. The one that looked like he was fighting with himself about something. Then you saw his eyes drop to your lips and back up to your eyes.

Oh.

You leaned into his touch ever so slightly. This was probably a very bad idea, and you shouldn't let this continue.

"Zemo," you breathed.

He dropped his head against yours and dragged the tip of his nose down the bridge of yours.

"Helmut. You can call me Helmut," he murmured.

Your hands were flat against his chest and you hesitate lifting your head to close remaining distance between you to kiss him.

"Helmut," you voiced, the soft resonance of your vocals floating through the room.

You saw him shut his eyes, a small twitch of his lips curl in an upward motion before he opened them again.

He must have sensed your hesitation because he drew back, but only enough to get a read on your face.

"I apologize, I shouldn't have -" he started rambling, dropping his head to reprimand himself.

You draw your hands up from his chest to his neck to prevent him from stepping away. You needed to make sure he understood.

"No, Helmut. That's not - this is okay, I just -" you paused, giving yourself a moment to make sure you word what you want to say to him next properly.

"I can see the conflicted look on your face. I just - I would never," you trailed off, gathering some courage, you drew in a deep breath before continuing, "I would never want to put you in a position where you felt that you were disrespecting the memory of your wife."

There. You had said it. Zemo had been through so much and you couldn't let him kiss you if he still felt like he would betray the memories of his family.

Even if it were for one brief and fleeting moment between you two, you couldn't do that to him. And you wanted him to make peace with everything on his terms, and not just for the emotional roller-coaster you're on, whatever it may be that lies between you both.

You felt him stiffen in his stance, clearly not expecting you to say something like that to him.

He looked at you for a few moments before twisting his head to stare out the window. He had dipped his head in contemplation and turned back to you.

You could feel him shutter a few deep breaths and when you met his gaze again there were tears glistening in his eyes.

His mouth opened and closed, but no words had come out. You could see him struggling with what he wanted to say.

"It's okay. You don't owe me any answers right now," you said. You tried to give him a reassuring smile.

Zemo huffed as he blinked back his tears and shook his head.

"Schatz. You truly are a piece of work," he said, a mixture of amusement and awe heard in his voice.

Zemo opened his mouth to say something else, but you heard the entrance to the apartment open and the voices of Sam and Bucky trailing.

You both turned your head to the door in mild alarm. Without much time, as you're sure one of your friends will be making a bee line to check on you, you start to unzip Zemo's hoodie you went to sleep with last night.

Helmut's eyebrows shot into his hairline and his eyes widened in shock at your undressing in front of him.

You give him an outrageous expression, as you carefully remove your injured arm from the garment and then your other, before handing it to him.

He took the garment hesitantly, a look of confusion on his face.

"An excuse as to why you were in my room, as I'm sure they are going to want to know why you're still in here. There's no way one of them won't spot you leaving. At least you'll have a good reason," you explained rapidly, trying to keep your voice from reaching Bucky's ears.

Zemo nodded in agreement at your cleverly crafted plan, and moved to exit the room. He paused at the door and looked back to you. You could tell he wanted to say something before leaving.

Later. You mouthed to him.

He sighed, but you knew he understood this wasn't the right time to have an extended conversation.

You saw him poke his head out the door before ducking back in to give you a mischievous expression.

You narrowed your eyes at his sudden mood change.

He left your room and could hear him faintly walk down the hall. You turned to walk to your in-suite bathroom when you heard a large clatter and shout from Sam.

"Bucky!"

"It wasn't me! you heard Bucky reply.

There was a snicker and then a door closing from not too far away.

"Zemo!" You heard both Sam and Bucky shout this time. Foot steps followed and some banging on the door down the hall. Hushed whispers could be heard after that.

You continued your journey to a nice shower and some pain killers. Yup. Never a dull moment around these guys.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[realllllfangirllllll]

Beyond Lovers || Chp. 31

{More Than Friends Sequel}

Chairman!Jaehyun AU x CEO!Reader AU

Summary: You find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with the former CEO after overcoming your fear of love. Although there were rough patches, both of you are now stronger than ever. However, you realize that maintaining a relationship and a company at the same time can be very difficult, especially if someone is out to destroy the both of you.

(Context: This scene takes place in the time frame of the last three chapters of MTF)

Masterlist

{Previous / Next }

4 months ago...

“Come meet me in Paris. I’ll send you the address.”

Jaehyun’s mind spun like lab rats on a hamster wheel as he contemplated the idea of meeting face to face with Xiaojun. He had set his mind on getting y/n back and he couldn’t act scared now. He needed her in his life and this was his only chance.

~~~

The bright sun was hanging low in the clear sky as Jaehyun let out a yawn. Although jet-lagged and stressed, the thought of being on the same grounds as y/n made him feel a bit better. After all, it seemed like he hasn’t seen her for years. He chuckled to himself upon the realization of how much y/n’s presence affected him.

He stepped into the luxurious hotel lobby and made his way to the glass elevators before he quickly pressed the button to floor six. When the room door opened, he found himself sitting on the lonely chair placed across from the lush couch with his heart beating nervously. Never had he been more nervous for a meeting, in fact, he usually wasn’t the type of person to get nervous at all. He guessed that y/n and Xiaojun were definitely of blood relation as they were the only two people to ever make him feel even slightly nervous.

His hands were clasped politely in front of his lap as he tried his best to sit as straight as possible. On the other hand, Xiaojun sat comfortably yet arrogantly on the couch with his legs crossed. His stern, sharp gaze examined Jaehyun from his neatly gelled hair, his casual yet sleek navy dress shirt, to his expensive leather shoes. Jaehyun didn’t move an inch and allowed Xiaojun to take in whatever he wanted to see. He dressed casually but neat with the intent of giving off a good, first in-person impression. He didn’t want Xiaojun to think of him as an egotistic rich boy but a hardworking and polite man that is sincere to y/n.

Xiaojun suddenly let out a chilling laugh that did nothing to clear the tension in the room. “You don’t have to act so stiff, treat me comfortably.” 

Jaehyun nervously chuckled as Xiaojun broke out an eerie smile and offered, “You must be exhausted from that flight. Want something to drink?”

Jaehyun looked at him and saw that his eyes held a stonecold stare that shouted ‘refuse if you dare.’ He quickly responded with a yes and Xiaojun’s eerie smile returned. As if he prepared for this scenario, his hands grabbed the bottle of liquor on the marble coffee table and filled the two empty glasses by its side. He set the bottle aside and asked as he quirked his eyebrow, “You do drink whiskey, do you?”

Jaehyun responded with a quick, “yes sir,” and Xiaojun chuckled, “No need to be so formal with me. You are about the same age as me after all.”

Jaehyun almost choked on his drink at his words and stuttered, “Y-yes if that’s what you want.” Hesitantly, he continued, “By the way...How do you know my age?”

Xiaojun chugged his drink and rather loudly before he bluntly told him that he had searched him up online, read articles about him, and even had some intel from someone on the inside. Jaehyun’s eyes widened at his last statement. He wasn’t new to this sort of investigation as he had done so himself around people he found suspicious, especially with Jaemin. But he was surprised, yet amused, that Xiaojun was that kind of person as well. 

He cleared his glass of whiskey and set it down on the table. “You seem to be a very reliable person.”

Xiaojun gave him a questioning stare as he waited for him to elaborate on his words. Jaehyun chuckled, suddenly feeling more comfortable around the man in front of him and slightly loosened his stiff body. “It’s only right to keep an eye out on suspicious people. I would.”

At his elaboration, Xiaojun’s expression seemed to change into one with slightly more approval. His cold stare shifted to a warmer gaze as he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. His eyes first looked down at his interlocked fingers and then seriously up at Jaehyun. “What is your endgame with my baby sister?”

Jaehyun sat up straighter again and responded with slight confusion in his tone, “Endgame? I don’t have one. My love for your sister isn’t a game.”

Xiaojun smirked and asked, “Then what is it?”

Jaehyun never broke eye contact with the man in front of him and said sincerely, “To me, loving y/n is like living in a warm home. I only want to make her feel happy and comfortable like how she makes me feel. I want her to feel what being loved means.”

He hoped that wasn’t too blunt and stopped himself before he could say anything more, but Xiaojun chuckled. This time, he didn’t have an eerie smile but a genuine one. He poured the both of them more whiskey and said in a gentler yet firm tone, “You’re the first, you know.”

“The first what?” Jaehyun said a little softer, scared that that statement might hold a negative connotation.

Xiaojun peered down at his glass of whiskey, slightly moving the cup in a circular motion before setting it down without taking a sip. “Guess I don’t need this whiskey anymore.”

He looked up and saw Jaehyun’s puzzled look. “You are much more innocent than I thought,” he laughed. He sat straighter, breaking from his previous position and told Jaehyun nonchalantly, “You are actually the first to tell me something worth my time. You see...most guys that previously held y/n’s interest will walk into my door and say some bullshit. I’ve heard countless fuckers say they date my sister because she will make a great couple with them, she will light up their day, or some equivalent shit.” His eyes hardened and stared straight into Jaehyun’s. “I don’t want to hear that. Ever.” Jaehyun unconsciously gulped and Xiaojun chuckled, “But you on the other hand. You are different. While others think about themselves, you think about y/n.”

Jaehyun felt relieved but not a second later, Xiaojun gave him the same cold stare again. “But y/n means the world to me. She’s my only family and the only person I will sell my soul to protect. You got that?” Jaehyun quickly nodded in response and Xiaojun’s tone softened again. “I don’t know how far you are in this relationship, but you must know that y/n didn’t have parents growing up as they abandoned us quite harshly.” He glanced at Jaehyun’s expression and figured he knew what he was referring to. “So you do know. Well then your relationship must have been going on for quite a while…”

“Not really,” Jaehyun replied a bit hesitant. 

Xiaojun quirked his eyebrow, “How long then?”

“Technically...only a few months,” Jaehyun rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of whether he should give him all the details of their complicated relationship, “But we’ve kind of been circling around the first month…”

“Circling around?” Jaehyun gulped, afraid this would give him some negative points on his approval but Xiaojun stared intently at him and suddenly burst out laughing. He knew that his younger sister was never the one to wait for initiation. She wasn’t careful with things she didn’t care for. All her previous relationships started fairly quickly. But when y/n really liked something, she would wait, go through a ton of inner debation, and finally come up with a decision. Xiaojun knew that because she does the same with photography. She never rushes the process and would take her time finding the right angle, the right natural lighting, and the right model. She would often tell Xiaojun, “Precious moments are to be dealt with carefully because they are especially fragile.” 

Now that Jaehyun confessed the upbringing of their relationship, albeit vague, he realized just how much y/n valued this man that sat nervously in front of him. He muttered to himself both out of amusement and astonishment, “Wow y/n...So he’s the one huh?”

He stopped laughing and stared seriously at Jaehyun again, “Listen up lover boy. The reason I told you to come here was to either show you that you are not worthy of my precious sister or to beat you to a pulp if you didn’t listen like some arrogant douches I’ve encountered in her past relationships.” Unknowingly, Jaehyun chuckled at his last statement and Xiaojun’s ears perked, “Did you just laugh?”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened upon the realization of what he just did and immediately corrected himself, “No no, I didn’t mean it in that way.” He scratched the back of his neck again and continued, “I actually just,” he paused and let out a light chuckle, “I just relate to that as well.”

Xiaojun was caught off guard as he blinked in disbelief at the man’s reaction, “You what?”

A sense of respect coated Jaehyun’s tone as he clarified, “Some people call it reckless, some people call it crazy. But in the line of business I work in, those hypocritical people only fear those with the power of the fist and intimidation.” He let out a bitter chuckle and told Xiaojun, “With y/n around, especially, I just feel the need to make sure she doesn’t get hurt by ignorant people.”

Xiaojun smirked, “You’re not half as bad as I thought Jaehyun.” He smiled and continued, “Anyways, y/n may be my baby sister but ever since we were little all she has done was make sure I was happy. She took care of me more than I did with her. She supported and helped me with my Youtube career and tagged along without any complaints. And because of that, she never really had a stable place to call her home. I’m glad she was able to open up to you. She usually never tells someone about her parents until at least a year into the relationship. It shows she really is comfortable around you. And judging from the way you react to my words and actions, it seems I don’t need to play the role of a protector for her anymore. You seem to suit the role.”

Before Jaehyun could respond Xiaojun immediately cut him off, “But one more thing. As a Youtuber, I know the public forum can be harsh and the spotlight will never be easy. For that, I know the situation at the Starship Charity Ball was not entirely your fault,” His cold stare came back as he stared seriously at Jaehyun, “But don’t you ever dare forget this. When you walk out this door and go to y/n, you will do everything in your power to help and protect her. It might not be entirely your fault, but it was because of you that y/n is now in the spotlight.”

Jaehyun replied in agreement almost immediately and Xiaojun continued, “Take the consequences and make the best of it.” He narrowed his eyes and made sure Jaehyun understood his commands. “But don’t you ever let y/n get hurt by it.” He continued and emphasized his last point in a much deeper and darker tone, “You hurt my only family and I will show you no mercy. However hurt y/n becomes, I will give that back to you threefold, understood?”

“Of course! I will always be by her to protect her. No matter who or what gets in the way,” Jaehyun replied quickly and genuinely. 

Xiaojun shut his eyes for a moment and nodded, content with his response and overall behavior. 

“Effiel Tower,” he opened his eyes again and looked at Jaehyun with a soft and somewhat hopeful gaze, “She should be somewhere around the Effiel Tower right now.”

Jaehyun immediately popped up from his seat, ready to meet his love again. Before he twisted the doorknob of the hotel room, he turned around and told Xiaojun with the utmost respect, “I will treat her like my own family, I promise.”

Xiaojun chuckled and leaned against the soft pillows on the couch, “You better lover boy, my fists are ready to fight any time of the day.”

———

• Dropping a post early since I’ll be off to celebrate my bday!! •

[quietmyfearswith]

girl at home ; andy barber x fem!reader ; 3/3

status — completed series

word count — 4,110  words

warnings — angst??? lil fluff?? SMUT, passionate sex, unprotected reader (tho imo she’s on the pill) swearing

pairing — andy barber x fem!reader

a/n — last part of girl at home! after this i’ll be working on my august walker series. lmk what you guys think of this one :’) also tysm for 205 followers!!

tagging @tonystankschild

masterlist | series masterlist

Y/N found herself aimlessly driving around. No known destinations in mind; she just wanted to stay away from the house that once made her feel welcome but now she began to rethink about how it just gave her a false sense of home.

Spotting a bar she decided to grab a drink — a non-alcoholic one, she wasn’t going to risk an impaired driving ticket. Upon entering the facility, she spotted a co-worker of hers, Sheila, and waved at her. “Hey Y/N, come over here!” 

She nodded and took the empty seat beside her, “You alone?” Sheila nodded as she gulped a bit of her drink. Ordering a drink, she turned to Sheila, “What brings you here?” Shrugging, the blonde answered, “I come here every Friday night, and before you ask it’s not to get lucky. But I just reward myself with a fancy drink after a week’s hard work.” 

Thanking the waiter for the arrival of her drink, “Well good for you for having a reason to celebrate.” Picking up the sadness in her tone, the blonde asked, “What’s wrong with you? It’s unlikely of you to spend time out.”

Her mind immediately went to her earlier conversation with Andy’s former wife, but she didn’t know if it would be a good idea on her part to open up about it to someone. Sensing her uneasiness, Sheila reassured her, “Don’t worry I can keep an open mind and a sealed mouth.”

Nervously chuckling, Y/N then found herself unloading her baggage after sipping her drink, “It’s just, you know how I rent a room in Andy Barber’s house right?” Sheila nodded, prompting Y/N to continue her story, “Well over the past months that I’ve spent with him, we became close. Close enough that I thought that there was something special between the two of us.”

“Oh snap! There goes your first mistake; you two continued on without clarifying the label between the two of you,” Her comment had her taken aback and Sheila just sheepishly shrugged her shoulders, “Sorry, shouldn’t have commented. Keep going with your story.”

“And I don’t know? I’m overthinking now because Laurie asked about Andy and I, then she said that the only reason Andy acts the way he was around me is that I’m convenient for him. That no other woman would look at him and take interest in him, so really there was no other option for him but me.” Y/N didn’t notice how there were a few stray tears that littered her face and she was quick to wipe them away. Sheila then rubbed the forearm of the girl who sat beside her, “Have you talked to Andy about this?”

Shaking her head, she wiped the remainder of her tears with a tissue, “I didn’t. But what for? To confirm that I was indeed just convenient for him?” Just at the thought of it Y/N could feel her heart breaking. “Well I don’t know but I think you need closure.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at her opinion, “Closure? What the fuck for? We never clarified if we were in a relationship therefore we don’t need to end anything,” She scoffed. Sheila just gave her a pointed look, “But  you and I both know this will eat you up alive if you don’t get to set things straight with him.”

“You have a point,” Y/N conceded before continuing, “But should I talk to him, I’m gonna need a new place to live.” Sheila scoffed at her statement before taking a swig of her drink, “Lucky for you I have a spare bedroom; so you don’t need to worry about that.” 

“How ‘bout I stay over on yours for the weekend? Just to see things out. Not really because I packed some things because I needed to get away,” She joked, which had Sheila laughing as well. “As long as you’re driving me home, we can have a sleepover.”

As they both got in the car and the only sounds came from the music playing on the stereo. “One thing though,” Sheila slurred out, “How come Laurie suddenly talked that way about you and Andy?” Not knowing the answer to it Y/N just shrugged, “Do you think that Laurie’s jealous of the two of you?”

Ceasing at a stop light, Y/N looked over to Sheila with a wrinkled expression, “What are you going on about?” Sheila explained as she gestured with her hands, “Think about it, she asked about the two of you, criticized whatever was going on between the two of you, and talked shit about you. Perhaps she’s threatened?”

Without moving her eyes away from the road she scoffed, “What if she’s right though? That I’m just there to warm up Andy’s side and make him feel not lonely.”  Slapping her thighs as the alcohol finally settled in her system Sheila guessed, “Doubt it. But really the only way to find out is by talking to him.”

“I’ll cross that bridge once I get there, but now I don’t even want to think about him right now.”

The weekend went relatively well for Andy. He didn’t have to spend time alone with Laurie, since there was always something the three of them did together. For one it was a great opportunity to bond with Jacob and that he got to know his new life more. 

As Andy was saying goodbye to his teenage son, the younger Barber joked, “So will you finally ask Y/N out?” The lawyer ruffled his son’s hair, “Maybe you should ask out the girl you had an eye on too, huh?” The two then joked around for a bit before Laurie told Jacob to get in the car already. Hugging one last time, Andy bade goodbye, “I’ll see you soon, okay, bud? Be good.” The teenage boy nodded against him, “It was good seeing you, dad. I’ll miss you.”

As he was watching his son head to the car, Andy felt Laurie’s presence behind him, “Whatever it is you said about me and Y/N was way out of line.” The woman could only scoff, “It’s true and you know it. The sooner you accept, the better.” Breathing heavily through his nose and crossed his arms, the lawyer willed himself to not lose composure and just said goodbye to her, “Bye Laurie, don’t expect that I’ll contact you.”

Laurie was about to say something more, but opted not to and instead just patted Andy’s back before strolling her way to the car. Waving adieu to his son, the smile that graced his bearded face dropped when they vanished his line of sight. Reaching for the phone in his pocket, his frown deepened when he noticed that there were no texts or calls from Y/N, despite the fact he was trying everything to reach out to her.

Hey Y/N, I haven’t heard from you since Friday. Please call or text me back. I’m really worried about you, honey.

As he sent the text, he lowered the phone on the dining table, staring at the phone as if he’d intimidate it well enough to earn back a reply from the girl he’s been missing. “Where are you, Y/N?” 

The remainder of the Sunday afternoon Andy spent it waiting for Y/N in the living room. He even ordered her favorite takeout just in case she came back hungry. But as the stars littered the sky and darkness took the place of light, there was still no sign of Y/N. 

As quietly as possible, Y/N opened the front door and entered the house. She had three hours before needing to go to work and she dropped by in order to shower and change into her work clothes. Tiptoeing her way to her room, she froze upon seeing Andy’s hulking figure fit itself into the couch. She peeked a bit and was relieved to see that he was fast asleep; but was also curious as to why the lawyer spent the night here and not in his bedroom. When he moved to lay on his other side, Y/N held her breath and sprinted quietly to her room in order to do what she came here for.

Once she was showered and dressed for her day’s work, Y/N decided to prepare some of her bags already; some having been already filled halfway with her clothes and other belongings. Looking down on her phone she noticed that Andy would soon be waking up given the time. In her haste to exit the premise, she wasn’t able to fully shut her bedroom door as she quietly made her exit. But before doing so, she glanced at Andy’s sleeping figure with sadness and longing.

Andy’s body was scolding him for not sleeping on his bed and instead making camp on the couch; he then decided that missing a day of exercise wouldn’t be too bad. Rubbing the sleep of his eyes, he peeped at the window to see if the compact car of Y/N was parked outside. Sighing heavily upon noticing that he still had a bit of time to just lay in his bed before heading to work; he then decided to rest on his bed for a bit. On his way up, the bedroom door he rented being left half opened stood out to him. The few times he’s been in Y/N’s room was so that they could cuddle as they slept together, and those instances flooded his mind as he entered the room and glared at the bags that were laid out in the bed — some of them containing Y/N’s belongings. 

“What the fuck?” He muttered to no one in particular, but a part of him was hoping the room would suddenly talk back and answer him about the questions he had racing through his head. Fumbling with his phone, he texted Y/N:

Where are you? Why are your bags packed?

Y/N had decided to grab some breakfast on her way to work, and as she was sipping on some hot chocolate, she saw how Andy texted her yet again. The man clearly did not grasp the concept that she wished not to speak with him. Yet she also felt guilty about how he bombarded her with texts and calls over the weekend and yet not one were opened or returned; so she decided to spare him with a simple reply:

I’m moving out.

And that didn’t sit well with the lawyer as his eyes bulged at the reply and immediately flooded her with texts, mixed with the occasional phone calls. The girl having had enough of it, turned off her phone before going on with her day at work.

The lawyer did go to work — however he wasn’t in his best state of mind that day. His thoughts preoccupied with questions about why Y/N was avoiding him and the reason behind her sudden desire to move out of the house. Knowing that she always got off from work earlier than him pushed Andy to leave work early. He fed his co-workers some bullshit about not feeling well because of something he ate over the weekend — well if he was being honest, it wasn’t really something he ate, but because of someone who made distasteful comments — and they believed him without a doubt after seeing how distant he was today at work.

On his way home, he again decided to drop by her favorite restaurant to grab some of her go-to orders. Arriving home, he prepared the dining table with the food he bought; they’ve only spent two days apart and Andy came to realize how much he’s missed Y/N considering how they’d spent so much time together. It was like she was engraved in his daily routine and with her absence, he felt lost.

Hearing a rattling of keys, the lawyer was hopeful that it was Y/N and that they could have the chance to talk. Seeing how she quietly walked around the room gave Andy the impression that she had been purposefully avoiding him. “Shit!” She slightly jumped when she peeked on the dining area and spotted the familiar blue eyes she’d grown to adore.

“Why are you so surprised?” Andy implored as he crossed his arms. Recovering from her initial shock she managed to offer him a valid response, “Well I always come home before you. And you were looking right at me as I entered.” 

The lawyer had to give it to her, it was a plausible excuse; but her surprise wasn’t his main concern right now. Standing up from where he was seated he walked towards her, planting a hand on his hip, “Why haven’t you been answering my calls and texts? And why are you moving out?”

Shifting the weight between her feet, Y/N refused to look up at him, “There’s no signed lease, I’m not infringing anything.” Displeased with her answer, Andy angrily exhaled, “No, but I’m owed an explanation.”

Chuckling at him, “An explanation? I don’t want to live here anymore; not when I’m only here to rid you of your loneliness,” Without realizing it, tears were starting to flow out of her eyes. Shocked with what she said, Andy placed both his hands on her shoulders to get her to look at him, “Rid me of my loneliness? What are you talking about?”

Pushing his hands off of her, she wiped her tears away then bitterly recalled, “Laurie talked told me; The only reason we have, whatever it is we have between us,” She pointed to the space she created between them, “Is because you know no woman would want you hence why you settled for me.” It was ridiculous how she was crying in front of him, but she just felt emotionally exhausted with the whole ordeal that she didn’t have the enough energy to fight back the feeling to cry.

Whereas Andy’s heart broke at the sight of Y/N breaking down; despite her frail attempts to push him away, he fought her against it and engulfed her in a tight hug. “What Laurie said isn’t true,” He tried to comfort her as she rubbed her back, “I’m not with you because I have no other option.” 

“You call me honey; and apparently that’s what you called her,” She scoffed, “Besides, we didn’t put on a label on what we had going on.” The lawyer’s heart shrunk in sadness at what she just said, he also realized how awful he was treating her and how badly she was feeling about the whole ordeal. 

“I’m so sorry about the whole nickname thing, sweetheart,” He said as he pressed a kiss on the top of her head, “It was the nickname on the top of my head and I should have known better not to grace you with that one as well.” He pushed her away from him slightly so he could see her face clearly, wiping the tears that tarnished her beautiful face, “And I regret not initiating for us to have a label.”

Y/N could only focus on the negatives and turned away from Andy, “You have nothing to apologize for.” She went for the fridge to grab some water, suddenly feeling thirsty after letting out a few tears. Andy looked at her and was patiently waiting should she have something more to say; which she did after sipping the water, “I’m the only one to blame for falling for you.”

Had he not been paying close attention to her, he would have missed what she just said. But his orbs widened, hopeful that she meant what she had just said and hopefully didn’t regret so. “You fell for me?” His question had Y/N suddenly realizing that what she had mumble didn’t slip past Andy; looking at the bearded man in front of her — who’s face glimmered with optimism — and she couldn’t bring herself to cover up what she mindlessly confessed, not when it looked like gave life to the man in front of her.

“Yeah, I did,” She admitted silently as her fingers circled around the rim of the glass, “But it’s fine if you don’t feel the same. If it was just a fling for you or whatever, it’s fine.” She sounded dejected that Andy swore to himself he’d do everything in his power to make her feel the opposite. Closing the distance between them, Andy wrapped one of his hands around her waist, pushing his front flush against hers. While his other hand grasped hers and held it against his chest, “Whatever bullshit Laurie fed you isn’t true. It was a mistake to call you honey and I swear you’ll never hear me say that to you or to anyone ever again.”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion for she didn’t know where Andy was going with this; but she didn’t speak up as she felt that he had more things to say. “You’re not someone I’m settling for — whatever the fuck that means — but you’re someone I actually want to be with. Ever since you came to live with me you’ve made me feel happy, loved, and cared for. I never thought someone would be able to make me smile again, but you did. You breathed life into me just when I was on the verge of giving up.”

Kissing her hand that he held, he spoke with the utmost sincerity on his voice, “I’ve fallen for you too and even though it’s terrifying to open up to someone, I don’t regret doing so,” He took a deep breath before revealing, “I love you, Y/N.”

Letting out an audible gasp, “You what?” Andy smiled softly before kissing the space between her eyebrows, hoping to rid her of the wrinkle she formed, “You heard me, I love you. I may have not said or shown it much to you, but I do.”

Her eyes were glossy with tears again, but not because of the earlier reasons. She felt her heart beat fast as it swelled with love and appreciation, “Andy, please don’t fuck with me right now.” The older man’s body vibrated with loving chuckles, “I’m not, sweetheart,” He kissed her lips briefly, they both could feel their bodies significantly relax, “I love you, and I understand if you don’t feel the same,” He added with his lips still touching hers.

Andy was nervous when Y/N untangled her hand from his and was preparing for the worst — that she didn’t feel the same or that she was still adamant about moving out from his house. But was genuinely surprised when her arms wrapped themselves around his neck, standing on her tiptoes so her forehead rested against his, “I love you too, Andy.”

Sealing his lips against hers was the only reply he could offer; his hands sliding from her back down to her thighs. Tapping on the back of her thighs he briefly broke their kiss, “Jump, sweetie.” And he caught her with ease as she did so. Her hands clawed at his long sleeves, unbuttoning it as Andy carried the two of them up to his bedroom. Once she got rid of his shirt, she planted kisses along his neck, “I love you, Andy. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it first.”

They were halfway through the journey to his room but the lawyer pressed Y/N against the wall as he stopped undoing her shirt, “I love you too; and I understand why you didn’t,” He sucked a hickey into her neck before saying, “I need you bad right now, sweetheart.”

When her back hit the soft mattress, Y/N removed her work pants along with her panties. Andy looked down on her hungrily as he took off his pants and boxers. Lunging towards her, he kissed her deeply, tongue wrestling against each other, his hands gently massaged her breasts. “God I missed your touch,” She moaned as the lawyer fiddled with her nipples, tweaking and pulling on them. 

“It will teach you not to run off,” Andy smirked as he enveloped a breast in his mouth. Moaning out loud about how good it feels, one of her hands pulled on his hair and directed him to focus his attention to her other breast. He complied with a smirk, “You’re such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m sorry for running off. I love you so much and I just need you,” She mewled out, chest heaving up and down. Declaring her love for him felt so natural and good that she couldn’t stop professing it. The same could be said for Andy; as his kisses trailed down from her chest to her pussy he kept on muttering with every kiss, “I love you. I love you, baby.”

Feeling his tongue lick and massage her hard nub, Y/N squirmed, “I need you inside me, Andy, please. I just need you inside me.” Stopping his assault, Andy made his way up to face her and kissed her lips before asking, “What are the magic words, sweetheart?”

“I love you, Andy. Please I need you inside me,” And the man was pleased with her answer as grabbed his cock and didn’t tease the both of them any further and slid in. “Fuck, I love you too,” He groaned as he could feel her walls clinging into his cock tightly. The juices she was producing gave him the lubrication to slide in and out of her without hurting her.

Andy made her wrap her legs around his torso, allowing him to rut into her deeper and harder — but still doing so with passion. He laced both his hands with hers and held onto them tightly, “There’s only you, sweetheart,” He placed short and sweet kisses on her lips before reaffirming, “You’re the only one I love.”

The tip of his cock hit her sweet spot and she let out a loud moan into Andy’s mouth as they both were passionately kissing — which resulted in the lawyer groaning and slamming into her faster this time. “I’m so close, Andy. You make me feel so good.” Fueling his ego, Andy let go of one of her hands to rub in her swollen clit. Her wails getting louder, “Only I can make you feel this way. You know why that is?”

Too blissed out with the simulations she was receiving, all Y/N could do was shake her head. And that was a good enough answer for Andy as he grunted out, “Because I love you; I’m gonna make you feel all my love.” His thrust then became rapid, harsh, and desperate; as if trying to convey what he felt for her.

“I love you too,” She moaned out before kissing him and Andy was more than willing to reciprocate the kiss. And as they both were making out Y/N whined out, “I’m cumming, I’m gonna cum hard.” Andy told her he was close too and focused on slamming into her hard and it did the trick since she climaxed and came so hard her walls gripped onto the lawyer’s cock so hard he had no choice but halt his movements because she was too tight. The way her walls massaged his cock had him spilling his load as well.

They both caught their breaths with their foreheads pressed against each other’s, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. Andy snapped out of their post-orgasm haze and laid down beside Y/N without removing his cock from inside her. Wrapping both his arms around her frame, he pulled her head against his chest, “That isn’t just a fling for me, okay?” She looked into his face and could see how serious he was. 

“I wanna be with you; take you on dates, go for vacation, have lazy days, bribe you to go to work late because I wanna have sex,” Y/N slapped his chest at his last remark and could not help but do the same, “So really what I’m trying to say is — will you be my girlfriend?”

Smiling so wide her jaw ached she nodded as she leapt so her face was right in front of his, “Yes, yes, I wanna be yours, Andy. I love you so much,” And she littered his whole face with kisses, each kiss coupled with a declaration of her love.

“I love you too, baby,” He mumbled in content and her head laid again on his chest; stroking her hair as a comfortable silence enveloped them. Andy was just more than grateful that he let her in his house, and she turned it around making it feel like home. A home that’s now filled with love and happiness.