#so i didn't know at what angle i was supposed to shoot them at

[crest-of-gautier]

triple / wipeout i got today! i'm so happy to have gotten e-liter to 4 stars, it's probably been the most fun i've had playing the game recently :3 (tfw you only started playing it regularly like.. last month.. idk what this says about me)

[ijustwanttoreadfanfictionplease]

Imaging each Akatsuki member eating out y/n 😊

• Have you ever been eaten out by someone with peircings? That shit can hurt but pain is pein is pain. He will grab your thighs rough commenting about how it's obscene to be participating in this but will still give it his all. Or, his version of all 👀

• "It's only a slight pinch, no? Surely, you can handle the pain prior to pleasure"

• Definitely a clit nibbler and will try his damnest to make sure to edge you until you're crying with snot dripping down your face and drooling

• She knows what to do and how to do it well. Start off with long broad strokes that will turn into whatever she sees you're into. Fast paced and flexed tongue? Done. Slow and heavy soft kitten licks? Done. She's going to get you to cum.

• "It's okay, baby. See? You're enjoying this right? Much better then those /men/. Let a woman show you pleasure."

• Takes a small break to check up on you to see how you're doing. Otherwise she won't stop. She'll want to hear you /beg/ her to stop. Oh please you'll cry, I can't take it! Yes! You! Can! Just one more for Kon-mommy?

• Those long slender fingers are definitely trying to find your g-spot as his nose rubs against your clit, hot panting against your vulva "Please darling, I want to see you cum"

• Lots of praise, will ask you point blank what you like. Will not stop or change pace until you cum undone. He'll lower his tone and you'll hear the appreciation in his voice as he whispers "Beautiful."

• You're cumming once with him and it feels somehow even more intimate than having someone's face in your genitals can be.

• You're riding tonight baby. This man will make you sit there no matter what. Worried about your weight? Worried about looks? Fuck, stop, don't even. This man is pussy hungry. He will spread your lips and burrow in that bitch until he is sloppily making out with your hole.

• There's no talking, just his strong arms wrapped around your legs to hold you in place. If you start rocking against his nose as has his tongue deep in your pussy he'll feel obliged to lend a hand and place his hands on your hips to grip them bitches and rock them harder.

• Will make you cum at minimum twice. He won't stop until then.

• Okay he's like super inexperienced and you'd think the mouths on hands would give him some points.. but they don't. They bite too hard or lick to soft and fingering you I'd difficult as the mouths are, well.. bitey. Regardless, he's excited and thinks he'll win.

• "Gunna give you the best head, hm. Get that vagina so wet and tight for me!" He has the spirit I suppose. It's not going well and you're not really feeling it until he accidently discovers licking your clit at juuuuust the right angle got you a quiet gasp. From there it's go time.

• It'll feel nice but you probably won't cum still. He tried to spread your lips at the end to get a better angle but his hand bit the lip. Youre furious, in pain now, and didn't cum.

• "I won't be partaking in this." Atleast that what he says. As he watches you squirm confused. Why would he be here if he wasn't going to -- oh! A toy!

• He's a little cheater and uses a clit ducking machine along with a vibrating dildo. Will fuck you over and over and over and over and ov - "Ah, how many times is it? 10? We'll shoot for 15 my precious doll."

• You can't walk. You can't talk. Sasori has wrecked you. Ruined you. You may be begging for more next week who knows

• "Come on old man, 100 bucks says I make her cum faster." Hidan makes it a bet with Kakuzu almost immediately. He rushes in a bit too much but god damn is he really doing a number on you.

• He is sweating and panting like a dog in heat while making out with your clit. He wants you to cum now!! There's a bet in place!! But, he gets too cocky when you start ti really get into it and hold his head in place with your thighs. You're about to cum aaaaand "You gonna cum baby?" He stopped . He stopped and asked you a question ; hes not even fingering you anymore fuck!!!

• Takes 10 minutes to come since he keeps moving and stopping when the going gets good. Takes no hints and is just being annoying with it

• Looks you in the eyes while towering over you, "Make it 200." It looks like he's going to eat you and not the way you'd like! Eep! He will absolutely lay you flat on your back and grab your thighs so hard as he pulled you to his mouth.

• This man is CONCENTRATING! Daddy Kakuzu has been around he know what to do and gets down to it. His thick fingers pumping inside you hitting that g-spot, the lewd wet noises as he is liking and sucking in your clit. You can barely contain yourself as your toes curl and your moans get louder. You hear him grunt as he pushes his face somehow more into you.

• You cum within 3 minutes. World record baby. Well, akatsuki record I guess

• This is Tobi everyone, say hi tobi! Tobi is tobi as tobi is no one but Tobi! That's right! He wants to play a game too! Everyone else is playing with you, why can't he? "MY TURN!!"

• Will not take off the mask. Will not finger you. But god damn the sight if your naked pussy is going into the spank bank. Maybe it's time to rethink who knows about obit-- Whats that? You're trying to tell him it's not a game? Oh, this is fun.

• Is thoroughly enjoying the misery of you trying to explain you're being tongue fucked by the others. Wants a thorough explanation. Wants you to talk about what you liked and didn't. His cock is weeping and you will be too if you keep blushing asking if it's really okay for someone like him to hear this from you.

[dollfacefantasy]

kinktober day 7 - mutual masturbation logan howlett x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, mutual masturbation, fingering, handjobs

You're not sure how what was supposed to be an innocent movie night led to this. All you wanted to do was curl up after a long week and watch some scary movies with your boyfriend. Instead, you've ended up with his fingers resting knuckle-deep in your cunt, and your hand stroking his leaking cock.

"Fuck..." you whimper, looking up into Logan's eyes as your lip puffs out into a pout. His fingertips graze just where you like to be touched with every movement. The heel of his palm grinds on your clit from the motions.

He leans down and steals the sound from your mouth with a kiss, melting that huffy look into something much more compliant.

"Gotta be quiet, baby. Don't want anyone knocking on your door to investigate strange noises," he teases and pulls at your bottom lip with his teeth.

Your instinct is to whine again, but it is the middle of the night. Even in the privacy of your own room, you really don't want anyone else in the nearby rooms of the mansion hearing the effect Logan has on you in moments like these.

In an attempt to fight back, you give his cock a tight squeeze before pumping up and down faster. He hisses softly and shoots you a look.

"Funny," he says.

The movie you'd been watching continues to play in the background even though neither of you were paying attention to it at this point. Your fist keeps sliding back and forth. You angle your head above it to spit down onto his shaft, making your movements more fluid.

A groan rumbles in his chest. He pulls you closer with the arm around your body, nestling the two of you further into the collection of pillows at the top of your bed. His lips move in again, smashing on yours as a way to keep himself quiet this time. The entire time, his fingers continue to curl inside you and gently slide between your walls. It's unfair how easy this version of multitasking is for him.

Pulling away, breathless from the kiss, you look down and watch. The outline of his hand presses against your panties and then recedes rhythmically. Next to it, his cock stands angry red and dripping from your hand's treatment of it.

"Jesus, you're so wet," he grunts. His voice sounds as strained as it does when he's buried inside you for real. It's accompanied by the wet sloshing noises of your hole being filled.

Beneath his hand, the seat of your panties was soaked through with slick. You leak around his fingers like a broken faucet, getting his entire palm glistening with your need for him.

"You gonna cum on my fingers, babydoll?" he murmurs in your ear, "Gonna get all nice and tight and make me wish I had my cock inside you instead?"

You gasp out a 'yes' before throwing your head back and letting your body seize up. He smirks at you and keeps working his fingers within. You try to keep your hand going as best you can, but your movements become erratic under the waves of pleasure he's bringing you.

Luckily for you both, the sight of your body squirming for him and the sound of your voice cracking into whines is enough to spur his arousal into a release. His high doesn't crash into him as hard as yours does to you, but he lets out a quiet moan and lets his hips thrust up into your hand.

You watch his abs twitch as ropes of cum fly onto them. It pools on his stomach, dribbling down over his happy trail onto the skin of his pelvis. His eyes flutter and a deep sigh leaves him.

The both of you prolong the mutual ecstasy for as long as you can. You start to come down first. When he joins you in the plateau of the afterglow, you unfurl your fingers from around his length. He pulls his digits from your pussy and snakes his hand free of your panties.

You can see the evidence of your arousal glimmering with the reflection of the light from the television. It would be embarrassing if you didn't know how hot Logan found it. He does what he does every time this happens - brings his fingers to his lips and slots them inside, licks them clean of your nectar, and then brings them back out for you to suck on and get a taste.

After watching you suck on his digits a few times, he pulls them back out and goes in for one more kiss.

"Much more interesting than the movie, huh?" he mutters.

[thebisexualdogdad]

Smutober day 17: Lucy Chen x Male!reader - Undercover

You and Lucy had been sent on an undercover job where you were currently stuck in a private plane headed to Vegas surrounded by gang members you tricked into letting you aid in their casino heist.

Lucy needed a moment to breathe so she takes your hand and guides you towards the planes bathroom.

“Where are you two going?” One of the guys asks.

“We're gonna get lucky before we even hit the casino,” she smirks.

Inside the bathroom Lucy lets out a deep sigh and you can see the tension in her shoulders.

“You good?” You ask her, placing a hand on her cheek and rubbing your thumb across her skin to comfort her.

“Yeah, just nervous,” she confesses.

“Hey you got this,” you say, kissing her sweetly, “and if you need us to be pulled out Angela, Tim and Nyla can fake arrest us at the casino.”

“No, no I'm okay,” Lucy assures you.

“Alright then,” you smile at her but as you go to open the door she stops you.

“Wait,” she says, “we're supposed to be hooking up in here.”

You raise an eyebrow at her, unsure if she's suggesting what you think she's suggesting and she grabs your neck and brings you in for a far more intense kiss.

She slips her hand in your pants groping your cock through your underwear.

“I can't believe we are actually doing this,” you chuckle.

“I need something to calm my nerves,” she grins at you.

You lift Lucy onto the sink as you make out, both of you shimmying out of the lower half of your clothes just enough that you can slip your now hard cock inside her.

She pounds her fist into the door and moans loudly making a show to keep your cover up to the guys outside which makes you laugh.

“I didn't know you were such the exhibitionist,” you tease as you find a steady rhythm that she likes.

“I'd rather be in here with you than out there with them making small talk until we land,” she replies, throwing her head back against the mirror.

You kiss at her neck and palm her chest through her shirt, Lucy still moaning loudly.

She reaches down and rubs firm circles over her clit, her legs wrapping tightly around your waist as she comes closer to her release.

With her legs spread wider you you can now fuck her from a new angle which makes her eyes roll back.

“Right there, right there,” she moans and she cums hard.

You let her ride out her high before pulling out of her when you feel your own orgasm nearing.

As much as you wanted to cum in or on her now was not the time or place so you step to the side and shoot cum into the sink.

“Damn that was hot,” she says as you start to clean up and make yourselves decent again.

“You feeling better?” You ask, noticing how much more relaxed she seemed.

“Much better,” she smiles.

“Good cause I think I just heard the pilot announce we’re about to land over the speaker,” you say.

“Let's go arrest some bad guys,” she says confidently, kissing you one more time.

[lovelybarnes]

dog tags- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader warnings: language? umm crimes about: rewrite!! wanted to get back into writing and i thought rewriting some of my favorite prompts would be fun, PF12 “committing crimes” + DH8 “how dumb can you be?” a/n: hello! i meant to post this like. five days ago LMAO but i started school and should be doing work right now and i came up with a false memory claiming i did, in fact post, when i, in fact, did not. anyway. here it is. i don't know how much better it is than the original but i had fun writing it, though, surprise! i still suck at endings. ummm i am thinking or rewriting more to get back into the groove and i am writing an actual new request. this got long okay thank you

"We're going to get caught."

You shoot Bucky a look, nose wrinkled. "You are so negative," you say, legs kicking as you climb over a fence. "We are not going to get caught." You watch as he leaps from the ground, metal hand grasping the top of the fence and launching his body over it cleanly. He lands crouched and stable, watching you slowly turn your body over the ledge and subsequently topple onto the ground.

"We're gonna go to jail," he sighs, bending over to hoist you onto your feet by your armpits. Your hair has leaves in it.

"Oh my god." You stumble, hands wrapping around his arms from the speed. "How the fuck do you—"

You shriek when Bucky spins you around to press your back against his chest and clamps a palm over your mouth, gentle even through the fingers keeping your lips shut. Your eyes widen cartoonishly, flailing as he manhandles you behind a shrub. You're still complaining to the best of your ability when he shushes you, directing your attention to the woman walking out of the house.

You quiet down and stare, brows furrowed. She's not supposed to be there.

It's like Bucky can read your mind, glancing at you with a sigh. You try your best to give him a look back before looking at the woman again. She has a phone pressed against her ear, lips moving angrily. Her voice upticks sharply with the end of each word she says.

You relax when you realize there isn't a chance of you getting caught, kind of wishing you had popcorn to watch her nearly trip over her heels and become even more furious, kicking at the grass. Bucky's silent enough for you to seriously doubt you'd know he was there had he not been tightly wrapped around you. You squeak at the fact, impressed. Bucky pinches your side unhelpfully.

She unlocks her car, keys tinkling harshly with her movements. Bucky finally abates when she throws her door open and sinks inside her white Jaguar, the slamming door narrowly missing her pin-straight blonde hair.

You gag, pushing his hand away. "When was the last time you washed your fucking hands? That's disgus-"

"I thought the house was empty," he interrupts, head cocked.

"I thought it was, too," you defend lamely. "She's off schedule. Maybe that's why she was so pissed. Late to her HOES meeting or whatever."

"What the hell is HOES?"

"I don't know!" you cry. "The one with the lawns."

"Are you trying to say the HOA?"

You quirk an eyebrow. "James Buchanan showing his face?"

"This is not-" He sighs your name, "I swear, if any more of your information isn't right, I'm leaving."

You make an incredulous look. "Is that supposed to be a threat? You were not invited."

"I wanted to make sure you didn't die or get sued or go to jail. Which, hey, really likely in a neighborhood that has 'HOES' meetings."

"I'm not gonna 'die' or go to 'jail,'" you insist, finger quotes up and perplexing Bucky. "I don't need your help, anyway, I'm a very capable person with a very capable plan. You just followed me. You're some guy's little brother."

"What?"

"You know. Annoying."

Bucky breathes in slow, watching you creep around the bush for a better angle of the house. He closes his eyes and counts to three, and when he opens them, you're at the porch, tiptoeing like a fuckin' cartoon character into the house and leaving the door open. Spectacular.

He sprints inside inconspicuously, head darting both ways just in case before he closes the door. When he turns, there's an alarm system set up that lazily blinks green. No disturbances. Huh. He glances at you, impressed for a very quick second when he sees you snooping in a cabinet, clueless to the huge dog growling behind you.

He stills immediately, breath slowing. He stares at you and tries his best to make you feel it, but it either goes wrong or he fails entirely when you drop a file, groaning loudly at the injustice of it. The dog twitches. Bucky's heart jumps into his throat.

You're halfway into an inelegant bend when you spot him, face breaking into a smile. Fuck, he thinks. You're pretty even when you're going insane. "Hey! You're finally here. Look at—"

He shoots you a warning look, moving his lips as little as he can. "There's a dog." He glances between it and you, thinking every move ahead to avoid a nasty bite and the failure of your stupid mission.

"Oh my god, Brutus?" You spin too fast, startling the dog both from with your movements and apparent knowledge of his name. 'Brutus' makes a noise between a growl and a whine. You gasp, a palm pressing against your lips. "Brutus, I thought they retired you!"

You drop down to your knees, opening your arms wide. Brutus stares at you for a second, inching closer to sniff you apprehensively. Then, his ears tuck and he whimpers, tail tucked and wagging gently as he walks closer to you.

"You... know the dog."

"Yes, I know the dog," you start, voice careening into a higher, softer pitch as you rub the pads of your fingers behind Brutus' ears. "Brutus has been the guard dog here for two years. I fostered her for a little while until she was adopted but I kept in touch." Brutus licks your cheek, making you squeal. "Her name was originally Poppy but they wanted a scary name." You roll your eyes.

Bucky shoots you a look.

"I sort of spied on them for a few months to make sure she was doing well," you rub her ear, "and she was, yes she was," you baby-talk. "Her owners have shit values but they really spoil their dogs."

"Wow. Okay. One question—the people we are stealing from know you?"

"Yeah, they have my number."

Bucky pinches the skin between his brows.

"Good girl, Poppy, protecting the house from evil intruders," you coo.

Bucky looks at the clock and then you, slowly lowering yourself further to pet Brutus-Poppy. He nudges you with his foot. Poppy growls at him. "Hey. Fellow evil intruder. She's gonna be back at some point."

"Not for another hour at least. Nat's in charge of the distraction." Still, you press a loud kiss to Poppy's head and stand.

"I'm an overachiever. Let's leave ample time."

"Fine," you say loudly, arms swinging petulantly at your side. "I'll make it quick. You're such a bore."

"Yeah, yeah. What are we looking for anyway?"

You use a pencil to look between books and couch cushions, humming distractedly. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, Buck." You wink.

Bucky's cheeks pink against his will, shaking it off as quickly as he can as he watches you look around. You pause in the middle of the room, do a full spin, and sigh. "Not here."

Bucky frowns but trails after you into another room, Poppy close behind. You open the door grandiosely to a giant room. "Wow."

"Okay, I know what you said, but you kind of need to tell me so I can help you find it," he says. You ignore him, striding toward a desk and pulling open a drawer. He says your name exasperatedly. You observe a notebook, shaking it vigorously before tossing it over your shoulder. Other items follow in quick succession, which he catches amidst his frustration. "What are you—you're going to break something—" He catches a crystal ball.

"I'm not, I know what I'm doing," you insist. "You are so pessimistic. Have faith." You dig in a little further before grumbling, rising to your feet and kicking a chair down. "I'm going to look in another room," you say and take off, leaving Bucky with an armful of miscellaneous objects to put back. He screws his eyes shut and counts to three.

You walk down the hallway quickly, peeking into the rooms until you find what you're looking for. Three doors in, you stop, scanning the walls until you find a hideous painting hung up next to a dusty bookshelf. You make a triumphant noise and stride toward it, running your fingers along the frame until you find the indentations of a security panel.

"Aha! And, if I remember correctly..." You enter 1234 and the painting swings open to reveal a safe. "Losers."

You count silently as you unlock the safe, laughing in triumph when you beat Natasha's record. Keeping the door open with an outstretched finger, you contort to find a pen, holding the cap between your teeth as you scrawl your time on the inside of your wrist, giggling in the anticipation of letting her know.

You turn your attention back to the safe after you've written a few wobbly exclamation points, rifling around until you find what you're looking for. Your fingers dig through a dark box filled with stolen valuables, a grin on your face when your fingers get tangled in the one you're looking for, eyebrows jumping in satisfaction as you tuck it safely into your pocket. You stick your head in the safe again, searching for something shiny to throw in Sam's face when Bucky bursts in.

"Oh, hey, do you think Sam would—"

"They're here."

Cursing, you shove everything into place, closing the safe and carefully moving the picture back. You step back and grimace. "God, that's ugly."

He says your name urgently, wrapping his hand around your wrist and dragging you away, throwing you over his shoulder when you keep lagging behind. You squeak, clamping your mouth shut when Bucky squeezes your thigh in warning.

He dumps you out of an open window and into a bush, rolling himself out onto cropped grass. "Okay, I think that was unnecessary," you mumble, crawling out next to him. There are lines of bubbling red all over your skin from what was apparently a rose bush.

"We have to hurry before the gate closes," he huffs, lifting the both of you up with ease and hurrying to the slimming entrance. You squeeze out unseen and stop at the beginning of the blind spot you came in through. Bucky's huffing when he puts you down.

"What's wrong? I thought you had super high stamina or something," you tease, poking at his shoulder. Bucky glares at you. You laugh and reach for his hand, beckoning him enticingly with your fingers. He appeases you suspiciously, capturing your hand in his. He squeezes and rubs a soft line up and down near your thumb.

"Let's go home," you say.

Bucky blinks. "What?"

"Let's go home. I'm hungry. And I kind of want to take a nap. Can we stop by and pick up some ramen?" You tug at his arm gently, beginning the trek to Bucky's bike down the path without surveillance. "Breaking and entering really wears me out," you say to his furrowed brows.

"Don't forget robbery," he muses.

"Right. Breaking, entering, and robbery really wears me out," you say with a laugh. You turn to him and grin, eyes sparkling.

Bucky stops, staying in place when you pull at him and whine. "What was it?"

You cock your head.

"What did you want to steal so badly?"

You chew on the inside of your cheek, looking at him thoughtfully. "I'll tell you if you give me a piggyback ride," you proffer, wagging your brows.

Bucky rolls his eyes but crouches down, holding onto your index finger as you climb onto his back.

He readjusts you as he stands to full height, wrists twisting under your knees and holding your calves tight but kindly. You hum, one arm falling over his chest and the other dipping into your pocket, unzipping it and taking out the chain. You wrap it around your fingers delicately and rest your chin on his head, looking at it dangling from your hands.

Bucky begins to walk. "So?"

Your thumb draws wonky hearts on Bucky's chest, tracing the letters on the tags with your other one. "Do you remember how disappointed you were when you came back and your dog tags had been auctioned off? It was the one thing you couldn't get back because it wasn't in that museum." You feel Bucky nod. "Well, I've been looking for them," you confess, pursing your lips. "I didn't want to tell you because you'd tell me to stop and that it didn't matter but I know it did—I know it does.

"A few months ago, I found out who bought them and I tried to buy them back, but these assholes wouldn't budge no matter how much I offered—or anyone, I impersonated a lot of people. I think they just wanted to keep them because other people wanted them. And the things they said about you..." You shake your head, feeling yourself going hot with anger.

Bucky squeezes your leg, muttering your name.

You stop yourself, letting your face slant so your cheek rests on his hair. He smells sweet like your shampoo. Fucker. "So, anyway, I did the obvious thing: I tracked them down and broke into their house to get it back. It's not like the tags are theirs, anyway."

Bucky stops abruptly, jolting you. You yelp, complaining as he puts you down and stares at you.

"You did—this was to get my dog tags?"

You look back at him. "Yes? I didn't—"

He cuts you off, pulling you into a hug so tight, you cough. Your arms hang limply in surprise for a second before they come up to reciprocate, a dazed but still eager arm rubbing the line of his shoulder blade. Bucky hugs you a little tighter. "Thank you," he murmurs. "I don't think anyone... I don't know many people that would do that for me."

"Oh," you say, blinking fast. "I—of course I would. I love you, Bucky, you... I would do anything for you."

"Fuck," he says wetly, pulling away to hold your face in both hands. He smiles at you. One of those real ones that crinkle his eyes. "You're—fuck—"

You laugh, his hands falling away to your shoulders.

"I'm sorry you didn't get them back after you went through all that trouble."

You tilt your head. "What do you mean? You think I didn't get them?" You raise your hand to his view, dog tags dangling. "Your faith in me is shocking."

Bucky grabs the tags and you let them go easily, watching his hands turning them around slowly, index running along his name. JAMES B. BARNES. Then, two lines down, R. BARNES. "I can't believe you did this for me," he says softly.

You smile. "Well, believe it, baby," you tell him, gently teasing. Your wring your hands together. "Of course I did," you say, quieter.

When he looks back up at you, his eyes are shiny. "Thank you." He glances down at them once more and splits the chain with a finger to pull it on your neck. "Hold on to them for me?"

You pause. "Bucky..."

"Just until we get to the compound. You'll keep it safe for me."

You keep it safe for much longer than that.

[kanmom51]

The story of a JK, a JM and some late night wrestling

Or not, but it definitely ended with a very sore nose for JM.

So this is what we were waiting for, right?

They just couldn't stop talking about it.

On Suchwita.

On their live with RM and Tae.

From all that talk about it I thought we'd be living on that footage for the next 10 months.

At least.

And then this is what we get:

But then again, I guess we got the Jikook treatment.

Them telling us about something and us never getting to actually see it.

The question I ask is: Why?

Why don't we get to see it?

We know there are cameras inside the hut.

We know they are angled at the bed as well.

We know that they were on at night, as we got footage of poor JM at the fridge.

We know the mics were on as well.

*Side note: my guess is there was no worry of anything inappropriate happening seeing that JM was literally out of commission.

So why?

Why did we not get the footage?

Not even of JM showing JK how he hit him!!!!!!

It would have been so much funnier than just hearing about it, right?

Could it be because the cameras were unable to catch them in the dark? Somehow I don't think that's it. Even if it was totally dark why show the hut from outside and not from inside, in the supposed dark?

And it's not because of it being two dudes in one bed. That's not a reason not to show it. We've seen BTS sleep in the one bed. Disney+ has shown the Woogas all in one bed.

It's not about the who (well, maybe it is a little), it's about the how. The who combined with the how makes for too much perhaps.

I think we all know nothing was "going on" there, seeing JM's 'condition'.

My assumption (based of course on my opinion) is that they just couldn't. That seeing them in that bed together was just too much. Too intimate.

Pretty much like here:

You hear how close JK is to JM, seeing that JM is so damn clearly heard on JK's mic. Too close for comfort I'd say. Just like in CT, too much!!

Stop and think for a second.

The only bed that we know the two slept in together we didn't get to see them in bed together in. Not falling asleep and not waking up. And most certainly not during the night when JM was elbowed in the nose.

I guess it was really just too much.

And that is really funny seeing that we got to see those two playing around creating content that could easily be used in a BL drama.

If I'm already at it, this is JM supposedly walking into the hut for the first time.

And why do I say supposedly?

Because that bed is not a "fresh" bed you get in a clean room you just checked into. This bed, my friends, has been laid in. This is not a bed a little creased because staff had to set up cameras. Someone must definitely made use of those pillows. My guess would be that at some point poor JM, who was clearly unwell, had to rest before continuing with the shooting, and this happened before they filmed this. He was probably feeling so bad he needed to lay down for a bit before continuing with the shoot. Understandable. Also understandable that they didn't want to spare us of them 'first' entering the hut and their impression of it.

This my friends is why I keep reminding you that this is edited content, not live running. We have just over 2 hours of Jikook in CT when those two basically spent there close to 3 full days. We get some of the picture, not all of it.

But one thing I do have to emphasize here - as much as content is edited, their interactions, what they have between them, it's genuine. Some we get to see, some we don't, for obvious reasons.

[sirhamburrger]

chihiro (k. yukimiya x f!photographer!reader) when i come back around will i know what to say? // not today, maybe tomorrow

in which kenyu just can't seem to muster up the courage for a proper goodbye. wc: 743 || cw: light angst, yukimiya is afraid of rejection, lowkey you are too, there will be a part two to this because like cmon there has to be || header from bllk light novel || dividers from @saradika-graphics

kenyu doesn't know how he's going to break the news to you.

after all, how does one masterfully announce to one's best friend that they're leaving for a live-in football training program lasting approximately nine months, starting tomorrow? and then tell said best friend that he's been in love with her since the first day of middle school?

it's simply not done.

so he keeps his mona lisa smile on, muscles aching, as you're guided to snap photos of him from every angle. you always tell him seeing people take close-ups of your best friend is a little weird, but you seem to be having a lot of fun doing it yourself. too much fun, in fact. he fights the urge to break into a grin despite himself.

“okay, that's a wrap for today!” the shoot director calls out after what seems like an eternity. “see you all next time.”

kenyu stretches his sore limbs, letting out a quiet sigh of relief as all the staff members go around saying their ‘good work today’s. but he doesn't feel the usual post-shoot euphoria. this is his final shoot with you, and possibly the last time you will ever see each other.

“hey, ken?”

he jogs over to where you're sitting before your computer, tongue poking out cutely. smiling softly, you gesture for him to take a seat beside you, then turn back to the screen. “look at these pics of you! they're the best ones yet.” 

and they are. the lighting is perfect, as are the focus and contrast, bringing out the subtle charm his fans love so much.

“you really know just how to make me look good, huh." he chuckles, crossing his arms. "i'm glad they let you take the wheel on this one.”

“you'd think that they'd never let a photog intern actually do any of the fun stuff, right?” you say almost breathlessly, strangely, as you begin to upload the photos to a hard drive. “but i told them this was my last shoot with you, so maybe that's why-”

wait. what?

how do you already know about his leaving for blue lock?

“look, i… i'm sorry i didn't tell you earlier.” you look back up at him, and he thinks he sees tears glistening in your eyes. 

what the heck is going on?

“i didn't want it to affect whatever you have going on right now. you're so successful and happy. but it's a really good opportunity for me. y'know, for my portfolio and all. job experience, too.”

his mouth goes dry.

“how long is this... thing going to be for?”

“nine months or so. i'm only coming back to school for uni entrance exams. other than that, all my school stuff is going to be remote.” you let out a shaky breath, clenching your fists on the table. “which means - i won't be able to see you for a really long time. i leave tomorrow.”

kenyu feels a lot of things in this moment. happy for you. broken-hearted that you're leaving. but most of all?

he feels like a total coward for not telling you first, so you wouldn't have to feel so bad about it.

“we'll keep in touch, though, right?” he takes your hand in his, holding back tears of his own. “this isn't going to affect us. i won't let it.”

“yeah.” you give him a sad, watery smile. “i suppose so.”

your phone rings, and you tear your gaze from his face.

“i should go.”

“okay.”

he watches you silently as you pack up and walk towards the exit, watches you wipe the tears from your cheeks - and he knows now is his last chance.

“wait!”

you turn around, red-rimmed eyes wide -

“i love you.”

a beat passes between you. then another. and yet another. then you're running towards him, and for a moment he thinks you're going to wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his and oh gosh he's not ready for this but he's more ready than he's ever been in his life -

but you don't.

you squeeze the life out of him, but you don't kiss him.

his heart sinks.

"love you too, ken."

and even if those words are kind of what he's always wanted to hear from you, they really aren't. because you just don't mean them in the way he so desperately wants you to.

oh, he really feels like a coward now.

bllk masterlist || general masterlist

© sirhamburrger 2024

[vinestaffery]

Scythe X cop or detective reader where Scythe kidnaps reader to join her cult or somthing

of course!! im a bit tired atm and my schedule bursted up again, so the other people that have requested, i will be taking a bit of a while to post them fully, but i promise i am working on them!! sadly this is gonna have to be a drabble, im so sorry </3

Characters: Scythe, GN! Reader Prompt: One-sided Romance I think???, Small Drabble Warnings: Usage of (pet) names; Mentions of murder; Slightly descriptive but vague of how Scythe killed civilians; Religious themes; Kidnapping; Drugging; Scythe being a literal serial killer; Indoctrination(?)

Days were never suppose to be this harsh. You were always looking for new angles for the strange disappearances of many civilians in Lost Temple, yet it seemed like every new case was to mock your work.

Someone was watching you, for all you know.

Days were becoming longer, more dissociative then regular. Someone was watching you, you could feel it. It was like being played with like prey, if anything, a piece of meat in the claws of a carnivore.

But, it didn't let you shoot you down off your pedestals. You still, somehow, no matter what found a way to link to your suspects. White, gold and teal clothing, and the way the victims were left.

Cut, bloodied and garnished. Ripped apart in one slick-move, a slice. Head, shaven off of it's horns before being squashed like a tomato with a heel.

You were connecting up the dots to your very last suspect; Scythe.

You met her a few times, once at a bar, another when you had nearly gotten into some beef with some stragglers late at night. She was somewhat always there to support you, but would be never seen again. You took note of this.

When the investigation was left up to you, the police huddling outside for their break; the sun blared down below the alleyway. The shadows were your spectators, witnesses to a brutal massacre of several.

It was her. It was her, how she always disappeared, how everything seemed to become more of a blur. She was always there.

All she had to do, was find her, or catch her in the act.

"I'll get you, one way or another," you whispered to yourself.

"Well, you've bet to get on wit' it, don'tcha?"

A voice seemed to silence all thoughts. You didn't turn to face the new opponent.

You readied your hand-gun that was strapped to your left thigh, hand hovered cautiously over it.

"You and ya littl' ol' brain, finally come to make senses haven't cha? Fufufu..." Scythe laughed, a claw raised and a large weapon rested on her shoulder.

Your heart was thumping, you had no clue what had happened to the people that were here before; blood leaked across the floorboards.

"You must watch yourself, Snake, or else," you threatened, vile in your throat and hatred in your words.

"Or else what, my fine sheep, you goin' to do something?" Her name-calling was getting on your nerves. "The sheep, the one who follows, threatenin' big ol' me? Why, what a show."

"You best watch your tone, or else I'll get those men to take you away-" "And do what? Shoot me with this?" She plucked a gun from her pocket, you could hear it fall and chatter on the cold, hard ground. It rung in your ears.

"Say, maybe if you are ta hear me out, I'll leave ya' be!" Scythe snarled in a smirk, eyeing at you as you gave a small turn. Your hand still readied by your waist.

"And what must that be?" You questioned.

It took her seconds before she was up close, hand over your prepared one as she pulled you into a hold. Your hands, crunched in her soft leather glove while the other one, outstretched and squished by her metal.

"Scream, and everyone in this town's blood will be on your hands, rabbit," You were petrified but held in your sounds, clogged in your throat. You could just throw up.

She took notice, and started dragging you away. In a sorts of type of kidnapping, it was uncomfortable. She caressed your cheek, holding you close as she kept viable eye on you.

Everything started to become fuzzy, did she slip a drug into you by chance? No, she couldn't have. That's not her sense of style. But, everything and everywhere became unrecognizable.

"That's it, we're nearly there, my sweet," Scythe was astonished at how you were still able to walk, to even keep yourself up with her as you seemed to become tired and unable to respond.

Her scorpion tail came back close to her once more.

"Fucking- scorpion.." You pointed out, the tip of her stinger dripped a certain chemical before you fell into the warm-heated sand.

Light's blared into your face as you suddenly awoke. Your back was in pain, brain spinning and pleading to be free from it's coffin.

"Fuck-.. where?"

"Ah-ah ah! Don't want the doctors hard-work to be demolished shall we?" Scythe's voice rung through the room. It echoed in your ears.

"Where am I!" You screamed, but it seemed no use as she walked over. Her heels clicked to the solid, clear marble ground.

A hand reached over, two clawed fingers pinched at your chin and made her look up. God, she was tall, and quite beautiful, for a serial killer. "Wouldn't wanna wake up the others now, do we?" Her scorpion tail threatened as it reached in view.

Eyes widened, and a simple nod in command. She let go in a rough manner.

"Now, you best listen to me, or else you'll end up the same way those people ended up," Your ears wanted to close, but you made eye-contact with her.

She took it as an agreement.

"You've rose quite an interest in me, my sweet. I wouldn't think such people like ya' would be so heavily fascinated in my work of art," Work of art? What is she talking about? Those were never work of art. Those were polished crime-scenes of horror. Onslaughts.

"Now, I wouldn't want my favourite detective, my favourite sheep to be close to finding out about me now do I?" You shook your head.

"Good. Now, if you want to live and make it out of this room alive, you best follow my words," Alive?! "What do you mean 'make it out alive'? I have no deeds to share with you!" You spat.

"Oh, but you mustn't think of it that way. Think of it as a way of... saving you and mine's life. You see, I work for someone quite special deity," Special? Who could be anymore special then the SfOTH? The respected deities, gods if you will?

"There's no one as special as the SfOTH, those deities would crush someone as despicable as your boss."

That struck a nerve.

"You best keep that mouth shut, or else I will do more damage then what my boss would do to you and everyone in this god-for-saken town," Her weapon in hand, you squeaked. You stayed quiet once more.

"... Now, where was I? Ah, yes. I want you to join me, in order to protect you from the harms that might come your way for your... case," "Work with you?" "Yes."

You could nearly laugh! But you couldn't, you'd die.

"...Any benefits?"

"Oh, darling. Benefits were already arranged the first time we met," You snarled. Of course, she was planning this all along at the very start.

"Now, do we have a deal?"

Silence.

A long, period of silence.

"Well?"

You couldn't stop thinking about your family. Your friends, people you considered close.

"You best answer me, clock is ticking."

Your father, mother, what about your pets? What about, what about, what about?!

A slam of the chair, and a rising heat of pain strucking your face as you cried out.

"I've given you one chance at this, now you best answer me! Yes, or nay?" Scythe knelt down to face at you.

"One."

No Answer.

"Two."

No answer.

"THREE-"

"I ACCEPT! I will join your stupid- fucking team!"

...

"Good."

[goodoldfashionedengineer]

Feeling a Little Blue - RK1K

(Read here on AO3)

Summary: Now that he and Markus are dating, Connor tells Hank what android dating looks like

-----

“So, let me get this straight. You’re dating now?”

“I am,” Connor said with a smile.

“And this boyfriend of yours is Markus? The deviant leader? The one we were supposed to track down?”

“That's the one,” came the enthusiastic reply.

Hank sat there, eyebrows raised, mouth agape, nodding slowly.

Connor didn't interrupt, wanting to let the other process it. Other people would be afraid over a reaction such as Hank’s but Connor couldn't help but smile. Thinking about Markus does that sort of thing.

A few seconds later and the lieutenant sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Jesus fucking Christ, I can't even say that's the weirdest thing I’ve heard out of your mouth.”

Maybe he would need a little push.

“We are very happy, if you're wondering.”

Hank looked up again, analyzing his face. “You really like him, do you?”

Connor furrowed. “Yes, of course, that's what I just said.”

Hank looked away again, expression going soft. Then his eyes wandered around the precinct, but nobody else was even near the break room right now.

He sighed again.

“Alright, tell me all about ‘android dating’.”

Connor’s smile grew wider. “I was hoping you’d ask that actually.”

He told Hank about lying next to each other, holding hands and going into standby-mode together. About interfacing, how you become one being for just a few seconds, feeling and seeing what the other has gone through, being able to send words unspoken. How close and safe it feels.

“Oh, and last week we went to the aquarium together!” Connor looked back at Hank, having briefly forgotten where he was and who he was talking to, so lost in the good memories they’ve built together.

Hank seemed amused, if his smirk was anything to go by. “Anything else?”

Connor hummed. “We go on walks together multiple times a week, exploring the city. Sometimes we just watch the other do stuff.”

“And what does that entail?” Hank had his head angled, eyebrows scrunched together.

“Well,” Connor’s eyes drifted, suddenly looking sheepish, “Markus is an amazing artist and great at the piano, if I dare say so.”

Hank leaned forward with a sparkle in his eyes. “And Markus?”

Connor’s eyes shot wide open. “What about Markus?”

“What does he watch you doing?”

Caught of guard, Connor was trying to pierce together an answer, not the easiest thing with a racing thirium pump.

“Fighting.”

Hank’s eyebrows went up. “Huh. Didn't take you for the MMA guy.”

Connor brought his hands up, shaking them in front of him. “It’s not like that! Just North and me-she’s a real firecracker, you know? Did I use that right? Doesn't matter- Point is that North and I like sparring from time to time or going to the shooting range.”

Hank slowly raised his head before letting it fall again. “Aha. And Markus is watching you guys doing that?”

“Yes! Yes, he does.” The smile from earlier returned. “One time he told me he wanted to paint me while I was shooting and wanted to hang up the painting because I looked ‘badass’.”

His cheeks gained a light blue hue. “And another time, we had a family visiting from Canada here and the little girl told us about her fox plushie that she lost. They left it in a motel, so I went to that motel and got it for her. Markus told me how much he loves how empathetic and caring I am.”

Connor’s smile widened, blue getting more saturated, hand going up to the back of his neck. “Sometimes, when it’s just the two of us, he likes to tell me that I’m precious.”

Hank leaned back, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised, smirk still proudly present. “You into that stuff?”

Connor blinked, LED turning yellow with a little bit of red. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You into that stuff? Praise?”

The android's mouth opened, but no sound came out. On the other hand, the blue on his cheeks only grew stronger and more and more red appeared on the LED. “I have no idea what you mean, Lieutenant.”

The other one rolled his eyes, head going with the motion. “Come on, you know what I mean. Don't you think I’ve forgotten that case at the Eden Club. We both know you aren't as innocent as others might think.”

Connor’s shoulders came up, mouth forming a straight line, voice sounding strained, “This is no topic to be discussed at work.”

Hank shrugged. “It’s not a bad thing, you know? Pretty tame, actually. Vanilla, even.”

Connor took a deep breath, eyes up to the sky, but doing nothing at hiding the blue from his face and neck. “I swear, if I’m going to self-destruct because of you, you’ll be charged with murder and spend the rest of your life behind bars.”

He didn't even say anything as he walked away, probably to return to his desk.

Hank chuckled. “Maybe you should call Markus, ask him if he’ll be there when your shift is over.”

Connor paused. Hank couldn't see his expression, back still turned towards him, but the laugh was unmistakable.

“Hank. Fuck off.”

[obsessivestar]

'What If It's All A RomCom?' - a Ted Nivison x Reader.

!! This is Chapter 3! Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 can be found here! If you'd like to be here for the next part, ask to be added to my taglist! It'd be my pleasure ♡ !!

{{-Story Description: You're a youtuber with a fairly decent following deciding to help your good friend Tanner with a minor film project, with you set as the leading lady. When the actor for the male lead is a no show, Ted takes up the role himself. One problem: This short film's a Rom Com, and you just met the guy.-}}

//18+, Def gonna be some smut. Reader is implied to be afab, under 5'5 and has specifically named friends, all who have no real connection to Ted.

This story will be in multiple chapters. Also gonna post this on Wattpad and Ao3 (when I figure them out LMAO) under the same username: ObsessiveStarla. Hope you enjoy :^)\\

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@k-k0129

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Word count: 3.5k

Chapter 3: My Eyes Are Up Here

The first day of shooting the film finally came and went. We had spent most of that afternoon figuring out what every character's wardrobe would be like and making sure everything on set looked good on camera. If any furniture needed to be moved, we moved it. Paintings were taken down or added, blinds were closed or left open, overrall it felt like the first day was about preperation. While I had thought we'd get at least some filming done on the first day, it actually worked out well. It gave Ted an entire day to go over the script with Tanner, and Joe the entire day to play the role of my father, demanding I stay away from bad boy Ted. I mean that sarcastically. Mostly sarcastically.

The plot of the film is almost similar to our real lives: We're supposed to be a bunch of adults out of college trying to hold on to our youth while spending their last summer together at some...summer house. There's a few extras that are meant to be playing our friends, but the main focus is on the relationship of Ted and I; our characters, I mean. At the end of the first day, everyone part of the film crew leave to sleep at their own accommodations except 5 of us. Ted, Myself, Tanner, Joe and another member of the editing team, though I don't learn his name tonight as he spends the entirety of it in his assigned bedroom. Joe had offered to get me a separate Airbnb when he realized I was the only one staying here that didn't identify as a guy, but I'm not uncomfortable with these arrangements. I have a lock for my assigned bedroom if need be, but I have no reason to distrust anyone else that will be spending the next 3 weeks living here.

The first night passes with no problems from anybody, except from Ted. He started knocking on my wall around 12am. Took a good couple minutes and a quick Google search to realize the fuckass was knocking 'cunt' in Morse code. He stopped shortly after I messaged him a picture of my middle finger being held up at the same wall.

The next morning i'm involved in a few scenes with some of the extras first so I can get a real feel for being on camera in this light, which also gives Ted time to read over the script in another room. In the film, my name is supposed to be Kara, and he's Mason. Tanner picked simple names. Ted looks like he could be named 'Mason'. The scenes go by fairly quickly, doing the necessary repeats to get multiple takes and angles, standard procedure when filming. I find myself to be quite a natural at this sort of thing. Other than the occasional stammer, I'm able to speak my lines and act the part with little to no difficulty. No bloopers just yet.

Next thing I know, morning turns into noon and we're having to move outside to take advantage of the last bit of full sunshine we'll have for the day, including Ted, who will finally be joining me in front of the camera. Like Ted had explained yesterday, we'd been filming a lot of the scenes out of order, this one included. At this point in the story, several days have passed, and our characters have already shared their first kiss, so our chemistry needs to be on point to make it believable. We need to act like there are some real, lingering feelings for one another while keeping it subtle. It was actually challenges like this that made me agree to take the leading lady role. I could've easily been one of the extras and only have a page or two to read off of, but I wanted to explore true acting, not just pretending.

I can't say I'm inherently a romantic. I'm certainly intrigued by how romance in film was handled decade's ago compared to now and I'd absolutely invest myself into a romantic comedy of the 90's or 2000's if one was turned on in front of me, but I didn't sign up for this to play pretend with a handsome guy. I want to explore the trials and tribulations of this cheesy kind of storytelling I'm a sucker for. I want to see if I'm capable of bringing chemistry into one scene, then slipping it into my pocket for the next as if it were never out there.

My thoughts are cut by Tanner and Ted meeting me and the rest of the crew outside, with the script still in Ted's hand. He's still in the white t-shirt they fitted him with yesterday, changing his slacks into some dark blue jeans. He looked pretty good in jeans.

"Okay, so we wanna get some establishing shots.." Tanner explained to us, Ted moving to come stand beside me. "We're gonna get some of the extras to toss around a football and sort of...run around, get some shots of them playing. You two are gonna go stand over by that post and just...talk..." He pauses on that last word, as if to really emphasize it. "Just talk?" Ted repeats, raising both of his brows with a smile. "I don't like the way you hesitated there, my good man."

"No, I mean--"

"I feel like you're trying to imply something, good sir."

"Yeah, Tanner. He can talk to the 'pretty lady'." I pitch in with a knowing smirk, getting a look from Ted. "We won't need an intimacy coach just yet."

"No, I get it.." Tanner chuckles slightly. "What I was trying to say is now might be a good time to talk about what your 'tell' is going to be, if you can't think of anything to talk about."

I furrow my brows in confusion, silently looking to Ted for an idea of what that is. He looks equally confused. "Our 'tell'?" I ask.

"Yeah, for when you have to kiss." Tanner replies, pointing at Ted and I. "We can't just count down from three and shout at you. It has to feel natural, so if you have a tell, a non-verbal way of signaling that one of you is going in for it, it makes it...realistic and saves up some time."

I suppose the way Tanner explained it make sense. It makes me think back on a moment in Stranger Things. There's a scene at the end of Season 2 where everyone's dancing, and you can just barely see Finn Wolfhard's mouth move before he goes in for a kiss. He had mouthed 'I'm coming in' or something like that to Millie and it's noticable in the final shot they went with. Tanner wanting to avoid that is completely valid.

"OK. No problem." Ted was the first to agree with a casual shrug, turning to look at me. I give a quiet little nod in return. "Where should we go stand?"

"Just over there would be perfect." Tanner pointed over by the large empty flagpole in the distance, a bit farther away from the rest of the extras. "I'll just be a little more to the left with the film crew, I'll give you a. O.K. signal just before we start filming so you know when to start and I'll shout 'cut' when we're done."

"Sounds good to me. Let's go." Ted beckoned me to follow, heading towards the flagpole.

I'm walking somewhat behind Ted, blushing a little to myself as I take in just how much taller he is than me. He's definitely at least a foot taller, maybe more. I'm only noticing it now. I wonder how tall he is?

"It's 6."

I stop walking for about a second, almost wondering if Ted had somehow read my mind. "What?"

"It's 6 kisses. I counted."

"O-Oh." I giggle a little to myself, crossing my arms over each other to rub them with my hands. "You counted them? Did you even read the script?"

"Better than you did! How do you over count kissing?"

"I counted 7!"

"You added one in, you fuckhead."

"Why the fuck would I add one in? What, you think I was enticing you with an extra kiss, asshole?!" I move up a bit to stand beside him as we walk, just so I can playfully nudge his arm. "I counted 7!"

"You fucking wish, princess."

"Ooghh, you fucking wiiiish!..." I start to mock Ted's strong voice again. "You're projecting. Maybe you under-counted."

"How about you under-count how cute you think you are, huh?" Ted snickered to himself, nudging me back a little harder. "We're supposed to want to smooch it up more once we get to this pole, I need to be able to stay in character."

"That sounds like a you problem. I can stay in character, even with your headass."

"I am going to stick you up on that fucking flagpole, princess. One more."

"Stick--" I pause and close my mouth, resisting the urge to burst out laughing. "Stick deez nuts down your throat."

Ted and I erupt into laughter, almost getting a little hysterical. I leaned forward and hugged my stomach while Ted flung his head back. I'm sure at least some of the others could hear us, our laughter was practically echoing out. We knew we had to come down from our laughing fit when we reached the flagpole, letting out a few more cackles and giggles. I lean back against the large flagpole, it's wide enough for me to push all my weight on it without shifting one way or another. From here, we can see that Tanner was still talking to the film crew as they mess with their large cameras. I'm having to squint and raise my hand up to cover them from the sun's bright, harsh rays, though I smile to myself. I'm glad I agreed to help with this.

"How much longer, do you think?" I ask Ted, watching as Tanner moved over to a different cameraman. Before Ted can answer me, I see Tanner turn to us and raise his arm up high. I can just barely make out the O.K. symbol he's doing with his hand. Next thing I know, the sun's rays are no longer over me. Did some clouds move over it, or...?

I turn my body, only to stiffen it up against the flagpole, almost like I'm trying to push my body into it. Ted is now completely towering over me, only being held up by his forearm resting above my head against the pole. He's crossed his legs somewhat, so if he were to remove his arm, all of his weight would come crashing down on me. "You feelin' alright there, (Y/N)?" Ted's grinning like an absolute winner, keeping his dark brown eyes on me as he removes his round glasses and rests them atop his head. I feel like his eyes could be replaced with the red laser of a sniper, and I'd be just as tense.

"Wh-Why are you--"

"Ohhh, nothing sassy to say now, eh? Where's more deez nuts jokes, hm? Where's being an annoying little cunt?"

Before I can create a coherent response, I feel another one of his hands move closer to me. Ted rests his hand right on my forehead. "You're burnin' up, princess. Did you pack some sunscreen? Gettin' real red over here.."

Something about the way he's bullying me is making my stomach twist. His tone, his words, his smile....

I try to turn my head away to get his hand off my forehead. It works, but his hand moved down to the side of my chin, gently pushing it to the side to make me face him once more.

"My eyes are up here, baby."

I glare daggers right back at him. I can't tell if he's actually flirting or if he's just fucking with me 'cause of yesterday. Both are plausible.

"Y'know this isn't helping your case." I collect my composure enough to speak plainly.

"What case?" He asks with a snicker.

"The case where you don't think I'm a pretty lady."

"I don't. Tanner said I need to act like I'm into you, so I'm acting like I'm into you."

"You're a terrible actor."

"I act for a living."

"You make YouTube videos for a living."

"Well, I'm good at pretending to like you, so.."

Ted's earthy orbs linger on me as he removes his hand from my chin. I'm not sure what I'm feeling at this moment. Is it embarrassment? Is it uncomfortable? Am I...intrigued? Interested, even? The way he speaks to me, it's just...

"Sh-Shouldn't we be discussing what our tell is going to be?"

"St-St-St-Stammerin' up a storm over here.." Ted mocks my stutter, his confident grin becoming even more annoying to me.

"You're not funny.." As the words leave me, I realize I've been smiling a little at him.

"What, and you are?"

"I mean it! I--"

"Woww, you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, princess? All that knockin' bothered you?"

"I'm gonna knock you into this fucking pole if you don't shush. I meant about the tell." A chuckle escapes me. "He's gonna want to know what we've come up with. Any ideas?"

Ted let's out a gentle sigh, finally pulling back to stand beside me against the pole instead. I feel like I can breathe properly again. "It's gotta be subtle, yeah?" Ted asks, crossing his arms. "I believe the term Tanner used was 'non-verbal', but yes." I cackle a little. Tanner has a certain way of speaking that's rather amusing. He's one of those friends that are naturally funny, whether he's intending to be or not. "Something that, if picked up on camera, would make sense in the moment.."

"Like a wink?" Ted asks. I turn my head to him, watching as he gives the most non-subtle wink I'd ever seen a man give me. A chuckle leaves me. "More subtle...like..." Thoughts about how the kissing scenes are shot wander through my mind, where the camera may be at any given moment, whether or not there will be a close up. It needs to be as non-verbal as possible; the most subtle way a person can signal to another that they want to kiss them.

"...Like...a quick look at the lips."

"Like a quick little one-two?" Ted asks, moving his eyes from my lips to my eyes to give me a physical demonstration.

"Yeah. I'm sure people do that when they're about to kiss someone."

"You're 'sure'?" Ted's smile drops, his change in expression suggesting he's nervous. "Oh man, don't tell me I'm about to be your first kiss.."

"Oh fuck you! I've had my first kiss! I'm in my 20's!" I laugh at him, watching as he let's out a sigh of relief. "I've had several kisses with several other boys, thanks!"

"Wowww, okay, first of all, kissin' the bro's is different." Ted points his finger at me, trying to appear serious with his lips tucked in a bit. "Second of all, boys? I'll have you know you'll be kissing a MAN, (Y/N). A fully grown 26 year old man!"

"What happened to the 'man' that was supposed to put me up on the flagpole, hm?"

"I basically already did, and you turned into a tomato."

"My feet didn't even leave the ground."

"Were you expecting me to pick you up? Cause I can do that!"

"Oh please, looks like the heaviest thing you ever carried was a Tuba."

"Okay, fuck you, I was in theater, but I can throw a mean ball and could absolutely carry you."

"You think so?"

"Absolutely."

"Try it."

Ted raises a curious brow at me and turns his body towards me once more. For a moment, I thought I saw his eyes wander downward, but our moment is interrupted by a shout, though it's not from Tanner. Right before my eyes, like time moved way faster than I was ready for, Ted had moved around me to stand in front of me to catch a fast-moving football. His back was close to me, in fact, this was the closest he's been to me so far. Though for only a brief moment, I could feel his white shirt slightly caress the tip of my nose as the wind blew. He smelled like...pine trees.

"Dude!" Ted shouted at the extras as he threw the football back. He may not have been a jock in high school, but his form was pretty good.

His. His football form. Y'know, like, not--not his--

I think that football would've hit me if Ted hadn't reacted as fast as he did.

"Jesus..." Ted huffed before turning to me again. He noticed how tense I had gotten, reaching to touch my arm. "I'm sorry, I didn't back up into you, did I? You alright?"

"I-I'm alright.." I managed to mutter back. It was odd hearing his voice sound so concerned for me. Up until now, most if not all of our interactions had been full of sarcastic, tyrannical but overall light-hearted jabs at each other, but in this very moment, I realized we may have unintentionally developed something here. I'm not saying it's necessarily romantic, but...there's a tension building up between us. It's not just in my head, is it? Does he feel it too? Is that why he's?...

"That...works too." Tanner catches up with us, alongside the man that had thrown the football. I didn't even realize they had been approaching us.

"What, did you plan that?" Ted turns to Tanner, sounding quite frustrated with him. "That could've hit her."

"Dude, I'm so sorry, I messed up my throw..." The man next to Tanner spoke with a genuine frown. "I-I meant to throw it higher up and hit the pole, the sun blocked my view. It's my fault."

"No, I told Dan to throw it, I'm sorry." Tanner speaks up as well, his hands resting on his hips nonchalantly. "I've been shouting at you two for, like, a good minute. I thought it would've been funny if Dan hit the pole.."

Ted and I are silent. Oh fuck. How long have they been trying to get our attention? How did we not hear them? I can tell Ted still isn't satisfied with the answer. Angry wasn't a good look for him, I don't think it's a good look for anyone.

"We need to buy you a whistle.." I manage to get out a joke, smiling to show everyone that I wasn't upset. I knew Tanner hadn't meant for anyone to get hurt. He probably trusted this 'Dan' to make the shot. Tanner wouldn't hurt a fly. He /would/ hurt a spider, though. He hates those things. "Yeah. Clearly." Tanner chuckles slightly, slipping his hands into his shorts pockets. "I'm really sorry."

"I'm okay, Tanner. Teddy's got me." I move away from the flagpole to place my arm on Ted's shoulder, leaning against it somewhat. I think my attempts at showing him I was OK finally worked, watching as he looks down at me with a friendly scoff. "I should've let it smack you in your stupid face." He remarks, finally bringing some of the tension from that altercation down. "Maybe, but at least I believe you now." I smile at Ted, moving my hand off his shoulder. Dan apologizes one last time before moving to rejoin the extras. Tanner let's us know that we'll be moving back inside to check on the shots before returning to the cameramen to help pack up. Ted and I start walking back to the house, though he pauses for a moment.

"What do you mean you 'believe me now'?" He asks, furrowing his brows while smiling. "Believe what?"

I give him a cutsey smile and reply simply.

"That you could carry me."

I walk a bit ahead of him, feeling the weight of my cheeks from how wide I'm smiling to myself. I hear a quiet scoff from Ted, though the rest of the walk is quiet.

After a few minutes of packing up and walking, we all return inside to look over the footage and set up for other scenes the extras will be filming. Now is the time we let Tanner know that we've figured out what our 'tell' is going to be. I look over at Joseph in the meantime, who's across the living room helping an extra with adjusting their outfit. As Ted explains the idea, Joe shoots me a look, furrowing his brows like I had just disobeyed a direct order. I return the look with a shrug. He's just going to have to deal with it. Tanner absolutely loved the idea, said it would add 'real intimacy' to a scene if he caught it on camera.

I suppose that's it, then. If I'm ever going in for a kiss, I'll look at Ted's lips to let him know.

__________________________________

|| Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 (Here) || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 (smut) || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 (smut) || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 (smut) || Chapter 15 || Chapter 16 || Chapter 17 || Chapter 18 (smut) || Chapter 19 || Chapter 20 || Chapter 21 || Chapter 22 || Chapter 23 || Chapter 24 (smut) || Chapter 25 (Final) ||

[lyricalt]

I initially didn't meet the deadline for a fic_promptly fill. There will be three short parts in total, last part being nsfw.

fic_promptly - theme: food & drinksniperspy - rated G - prompt: your true character comes out when you are drunk. (part 2/3)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

----

Against all odds, Sniper wakes up in his own bunk with a vague sense of what transpired the previous night. The angle of the sunlight and muggy warmth coming into his camper feels like it’s late morning or early afternoon, but either way it’s not helping his headache any. The first thing he does is feel around for Spy’s emergency peashooter that he keeps under the mattress and groans when he finds it missing. Great.

Sniper cracks open a bleary eye, sees a glass of water within reach on a shelf, and barely has enough brain matter to notice how it’s positioned in such a way that if he grabs it wrong, it'll tip over and drench his face. Which it does, despite his efforts. He gets the sense that he might’ve not been the easiest person to drag back into bed last night. Sitting up with his face dripping, Sniper carefully takes what’s left of the glass and starts drinking.

His skull pounds with each sip, and just when Sniper is starting to feel real sorry for himself, a part of him remembers Spy’s hand petting his head, scratching at his hair while Sniper had buried miserably into the pillow. His mouth isn’t as horrid and sour as it should be so Spy must have forced him to brush his teeth and change clothes at some point. 

He finishes the water. Doesn’t really know what to make of Spy setting it aside for him. He might’ve felt some type of way about it but right now he’s mostly feeling bloody wretched and hungover. 

There’s no easy way to kill himself other than the kitchen knife in the drawer, which seems too great an effort to use without making a mess. He’s also hungry. With a level of pitiful optimism that sickens him even further, Sniper looks at the table on the slim chance Spy might've left something for him to eat but no dice. He’ll have to buck up and head on over to the kitchens.

Also, his bloody boots are missing. It takes a moment for Sniper to pull out the ratty pair of loafers he keeps for situations such a this and trudges onward for a quick brunch of inoffensive oatmeal spiced with crushed acetaminophen. Coffee. More water. Then he joins the rest of his miserable fellows in tidying up the rec room. 

Engineer comes in with a mercy pistol but Soldier, bless the man, starts hollering about taking their hangovers like real men. Scout, by far the most sensitive when he comes to his own masculinity, takes Engineer’s gun and shoots himself through the head. He comes back five minutes later bright eyed and bushy tailed, and cheerfully gets back to cleaning with double the speed and efficiency.

Sniper supposes it's only fair the rest of them follow suit. The pistol gets passed around in good order. The additional work of cleaning the blood splatters is negligible. 

Spy, Medic, and Heavy aren't present for the clean up. With the lack of complaining, Sniper supposes they’re all under the impression the missing three have already done their part. He keeps mum about Spy's extra duties, and now that he’s properly sober, Sniper feels a little embarrassed by the whole thing—but slightly confused by how pleased he feels. Being taken care of like that. A grown adult professional. Making a complete fool out of himself by—

“Argh,” he says suddenly, and lowers his head to grind the end of the broom handle into his temple.

Soldier looks up at him, impressed. “Good work, private! Drank so much even the respawn couldn’t fix you!”

“Eugh,” says Sniper, still trying to drill the broom through his head.

“I’ll even turn a blind eye to Spy helping your sorry ass out last night!”

“Argh…” Sniper repeats, since his lobotomy attempt isn’t working, and sets aside the broom to leave in a hurry.

----

[part 3]

[worriedvision]

Wrong person! - Gorou

Gender neutral reader, reader is friends with Kazuha and is ecstatic to receive a message from their crush that he's asked them on a date. Angst here again sorry not sorry

--

Gorou: Hey, I was wondering if you'd have some time to go for a drink. I know you're busy, but if not I'd love to have some time with you!

-

When you receive that message, you gasp and excitedly show it to Kazuha, who seemed pleasantly surprised by your message from Gorou.

You had gushed to Kazuha about your feelings, and he could have sworn Gorou was just treating you the same way he treated anyone else. When you talk about his smile, and Kazuha happened to see from another angle his smile, he'd see that the smile happened because he saw someone else. He didn't want to tell you that he was just nice like that, so he was preparing mentally for telling you to cheer up with some sweet treats and lots of hugs. His comrades would be treated more favourably than yourself

"I'm so happy for you." Kazuha smiles as you quickly type a reply.

--

You: of course! It's been a while since we talked, and I would like to catch up as well!

--

The day comes along quick, and you've really made an effort to look nice - nice scent, outfit, some tasteful makeup and even planning your next meetup before this one started to sweep Gorou off his feet.

When Gorou shows up, he flashes you that smile you always gushed about and you wave him over, him happily jogging over before promptly ordering some drinks. It's like he gets a new light in his eyes, hopeful to start something new.

"Before we start, I have to admit something..." Gorou starts, laughing away his nerves before looking away. He can feel your confused eyes on him, and he immediately regrets bringing this up. The person he had asked out was his superior, he knew deep down he had no chance with them.

"You weren't meant to receive that message." He begins, you tilting your head in confusion.

"So what did you mean to type to me?" You ask, genuinely curious.

"...I didn't mean to send anything to you. I meant to-" before he can complete his sentence, he hears you tense up. Looking over, his heart sinks as he notices all of your enthusiasm for the day completely dissipate.

"...I see. Silly me!" You reply, flinching when you hear how loud the second half was. "I should have known you were just being nice to me, and it wasn't directed for me."

"Wait, please-" Gorou starts, you standing up. He wanted to be clear that he went on to ask the person he meant to ask, and they promptly and kindly turned him down and told him it wouldn't have worked out regardless because of the ranking difference.

"I'll avoid you, don't worry. I've been so stupid being excited for this." You babble out, tears actively rolling down your face not out of sadness, but rather the sheer embarrassment of knowing you were too stupid to see what everyone else did.

"_, let's give this-" Gorou tries to soften the blow, seeming to still want this drink. What happened with the conversation with his actual love interest, you didn't know.

But in this moment, you weren't curious. You didn't care anymore. You just wanted to leave, your tears causing you to be an obvious target for prying eyes. You feel like you're losing composure, and you see Gorou looking uncomfortable. You tell yourself in that moment you should have just waited before replying that quickly to the message. You feel yourself being lightly guided away by someone before they stop at a familiar stop. They wrap their arms around you, and a familiar voice soothes you.

"Let out your tears." Kazuha soothes. "There's no use bottling up this betrayal."

You didn't know what Kazuha was doing there, but you think he probably had the connections to know what was supposed to happen. Gorou couldn't even shoot you a quick 'so sorry, wrong person'. He could have even made up a lie saying he was too busy, or I'd he did want to meet up with you after the conversation not being up the intention at all!

"I really filled myself up for something that wasn't supposed to happen, how will I be able to show up to work with him knowing this?" You wail into his chest, Kazuha hushing you soothingly before wrapping his arms tightly around you.

"You'll realise that there are better bachelor's for you than him." Kazuha states. "People that do genuinely think of you more warmly than just a friend." Kazuha massages the back of your head, feeling you still tense.

"But for now, I think you need to focus on yourself and the many positives you possess."

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

7. Silent fury with Tarlos please 🥰🥰🥰

Carlos exited the bathroom and re-entered the living room. As soon as he was in his husband's line of sight, TK got up and stalked into the bedroom, throwing a haughty stare at Carlos over his shoulder.

Carlos sighed. This had been going on for almost two hours. Carlos knew his husband didn't like it when Carlos said no, but he was really hoping TK would pout for a little while and then they could enjoy the day together.

Clearly the love of his life had other ideas.

Carlos went to the kitchen and checked on his chili. There was a gathering tonight at Captain Vega's house; Carlos knew that Paul was also bringing chili, but the two had an ongoing debate over whose was better; tonight there would be many more judges.

Carlos peered over his shoulder and saw TK come out of the bedroom and flop on the couch. Now seemed to be as good of a time as any to try and thaw that ice.

"Well, that was a fun two hours of silent fury," Carlos said, slinging his arms around TK's neck from behind. TK didn't jump up from the couch; he just crossed his arms and pouted.

Granted, he hadn't turned around, but he didn't need to; Carlos was very familiar with that pout from all angles.

"Baby, I love you so much," Carlos murmured, lightly scratching TK's scalp. "I promise, I'm not trying to be control freak husband. But this time yesterday, you had a fever over a hundred. You're a medical professional..." at this, TK huffed and sprung off the couch. He stalked into the kitchen with Carlos at his heels.

"TK, everyone says you're supposed to be fever-free for twenty-four hours before doing something," Carlos reminded him. "Which you will be by tonight, and sitting around with friends isn't super taxing. But going to an indoor trampoline park not even a full day after you didn't want to get off the floor because it felt cool on your face cause you were burning up so much... well, it just seemed like the kind of thing that could wait".

TK was at the sink and turned around to shoot his husband another murderous glare. He had some choice words for Carlos this morning when Carlos told him in no uncertain terms was TK going to the trampoline park with Marjan and Mateo; this had been set up weeks ago, but that was before TK got that chicken salad from Target that got him sent home from work because he was getting so sick.

"Baby," Carlos reached out and squeezed TK's shoulder and TK angrily shook him off. "I love you more than anything in the world. I just want you to give your body time to rest". TK was now opening the cabinets and rummaging through them.

"Can I make you something?" Carlos asked as TK was running his hands over the different things in front of him TK still didn't answer, but shut the cabinets and picked up the box of Ritz crackers on the counter. Carlos didn't care for them, but his husband was a connoisseur of all types of crackers; he had a whole shelf of club crackers and mini club crackers and saltines and mini saltines- when he wasn't feeling well the day before he went through almost a full sleeve of Ritz crackers.

"You know, that's another thing," Carlos said. "Baby, the only thing in your stomach is ritz crackers and some oatmeal. That doesn't make for good trampoline jumping". His husband shot him a glare as he ripped open a new sleeve of crackers.

Crackers in hand, he walked over to the stove and took the lid off the pot of chili.

"TK... what are you doing?" Carlos asked. TK kept eye contact as he crumbled two Ritz crackers up in his hand. "Don't even think about it," Carlos said, taking a step closer. "I'm serious. This isn't funny". TK blinked once as his hand moved over the open pot of chili.

"Tyler Kennedy..." Carlos said in a low rumble as TK released the crumbs into the chili. Seeing Carlos about to pounce, he threw a handful of crackers onto the chili before he replaced the lid and made a run for it.

"Tyler Kennedy Strand!" Carlos roared as he chased his husband around their dining room table. "Get back here!"

"You know," his husband said cheekily, speaking to him for the first time since that morning, "for someone who had no energy to trampoline, I feel like I'm moving pretty quick. Don't you, babe?"

"You think you're funny". Carlos cracked his knuckles. "Wait til I catch you".

"Gotta catch me to kill me, babe," TK said sticking out his tongue as he made a dash for the bedroom with his husband right on his tail.

Thank you for the ask!!

[saltsprite]

6. Spyscrapper

"on a falling tear" (kiss ask meme)

I had this one mostly done but then tumblr ate it sdfkj;sj

"Got a real bad feeling about this one, Greez," Bode mutters.

Greez shushes him, waving him off with two hands. "I know what I'm doing, jetpack."

Even as Bode tries to warn him, a giggle begins trickling up from his diaphragm. "He's gonna be pissed."

"Quit yappin'," Greez hisses. "If Cal didn't want this, he shoulda picked up all his damn socks."

Well. Bode supposes Greez has a point. Cal does leave his dirty socks all around the Mantis, and it is... not great.

So there they are: Bode hovering on the sidelines while a gloved Greez layers sweaty sock after dingy sock across Cal's face-- Cal having had the misfortune of crashing on the Mantis's sofa for what probably amounts to an "emergency systems shutdown" kinda nap, complete with open-mouthed snoring. BD-1 is... honestly, judging by the angle of his head, he's probably recording this. Good for him.

After layering one last sock Greez takes a step back, then claps all his hands together sharp and loud enough to make even Bode flinch. "Wakey-wakey, Cal!"

Startling awake, Cal flails, barely catching himself on the table to keep from falling to the floor. He sputters. He bats socks from his face. "Aw, Greez!"

"That's what you get, Cal Kestis!" Greez shouts, scuttling away towards the galley. Good thinking, too-- to Bode's surprise Cal balls up one of his socks to huck at Greez, missing him by a hair. "How many years have I suffered your disgusting tyranny?!"

"It's not tha--! Oh, ew, this one is gross," Cal says, dropping a sock in favor of flinging it with the Force instead.

Greez deflects it with a roasting pan. "Knock it off!"

"You first!"

And Bode-- Bode can't help it. Even if he wanted to curb his full-bodied laughing, he wouldn't. Not once after meeting Cal Kestis, Jedi Terrorist did Bode stop to imagine him so achingly normal. This little war Cal wages against Greez, at once so fraught with righteous parental fury and deep unabashed love on both sides, sends Bode right back to the Temple when he'd witnessed Master Kenobi laughing like a bell ringing while being chased by his young Padawan. Skywalker had slung Huttese insults at his Master not terribly unlike how Cal does with his filthy socks at Greez. It's familiar. Familial.

It's something Bode had given up ever finding again.

He gasps for air bent nearly in half, face wet from uncontrollable tears. Bode wipes his eyes. He looks up to find Cal watching him; Greez takes the opportunity to flee deeper into the ship, and Bode knows better than to rat him out.

"You okay?" Cal asks, mouth slanted in amusement.

Bode nods, still out of breath. His stomach hurts. "Never better, scrapper."

Cal shoots him a quiet smile, a little shy almost. "I like this look on you."

"Is that right?" Bode pulls himself together enough to half-ass a smirk.

"I really like it," Cal says, crossing the distance between them and drawing close as if to kiss Bode, but--

"Eww, not with your sock mouth!" Bode collapses into laughter again, weakly pushing Cal back.

Cal gives up a snicker of his own as he tries to wrestle closer. "Oh, not you too--"

"Greez, help!" Bode calls. He's got Cal by both wrists, but Cal's slippery, and neither of them are really trying; Cal wriggles free, threatening to kiss him. Bode dodges.

You're on your own, jetpack! comes muffled from the back hallway.

Before Bode can react Cal kicks one of Bode's legs out from under him, sending him to the floor. Bode's laughing too hard to keep Cal from clambering onto him and pin his hands to the floor, to keep him from kissing Bode's wet cheeks and his temples where tears track fresh paths.

Defeat's not so bad, like this.

[violetswritingg]

Thunderstruck

Tyler Owens x OFC!

Description: When cowgirl meets cowboy after a year of no-contact and chaos ensues during storm season!

Rating: M (Mentions of blood and death in Tornadoes and storms alike, angst and loss of loved ones, car accidents, Tornado aftermath, and injury to characters, slight age gap (5 years))

Want to read the other chapters?

Click here

9

A few seconds later......

"I'm just fine, you're the one who almost had a house drop on them." His words bit at her exposed nerve endings. Filling Riley with regret for even stopping to check on him, her stomach twisting in knots.

"Right. Okay then." Riley was tired, she was hungry, but also still nauseous, her head hurt and now her chest felt tight hearing the sharp tone that had left Tyler's lips. Something so familiar but so distant in her memory. It was how he always sounded when he was upset with her for doing something dangerous.

Or, at least, stupidly dangerous.

Riley turned on her heel and made it a grand total of two steps before the sound of skin against skin and a quiet yelp made her turn back around. Witnessing Tyler, holding his shoulder, glare at the dark-haired man beside him, who had appeared out of nowhere. Having been around the back of the house-turned-debris they were poking around. The new face simply raised his brows and put his hands on his hips, coffee eyes drilling expectantly into Tyler. His ever-present smile never really leaving his face, even present now, a slight curl to them as he nodded his head in Riley's direction.

Tyler glanced her way looking like a kicked puppy, barely meeting her slightly amused-mostly shocked expression and round eyes.

"Sorry" Tyler sighed, "I didn't mean that."

"Kinda felt like you did." Riley swallowed hard, eyes squinting as the sun started to shift positions in the sky, having to raise a hand to block the rays from fully blinding her. "I'm uh- I'm gonna go." She started to walk, Tyler's voice calling after her. His boots crunching against the ground in quick strides.

"No, wait, really, I'm sorry. I'm just still pissed off about that shit with Kate-"

"It's fine Owens. You don't owe me any-" She had barely turned around, desperate for Tyler to not see the hurt she was feeling, because she had no right. But also wanted to just drop everything and apologize and fall into his arms. After her day she knew a single hug from him, if they were still in good standing with each other, would probably make her feel like it would all be okay. Truly. If even only for a couple minutes.

"Please don't call me that." Riley stopped, angled away from the blonde man, shoulders raised. Tyler's voice barely carrying, but it was enough. A lead weight dropping onto Riley's chest. "Just..." The man looked around for a second, "This isn't your fault ya know?" Tyler's abrupt change, turning it on her, shouldn't have thrown her. Not after her experience with it firsthand. But she is.

"Easy for you to say," She sputtered, "It's easy for you, all you do is run around and shoot fireworks up into tornados or god knows whatever else your followers ask you to do next. But for me?" She should stop, She knew that, but once she had started it was like a single crack had suddenly blown open and the dam was crumbling more and more with every word that left her mouth unfiltered, "Every time I fail, it's a town that's hit. Family homes ripped from the ground. Torn to shreds. Parents without kids and kids without parents. So, thank you for saying that, but it is. I could have prevented this Tyler. I could have." She didn't know who she was begging to believe her. Him or herself. "But I fucked up. As per usual."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tyler scoffed, eye wide as he stared her down, hating how Riley's face dropped, her eyes losing any spark they had, but confused more than anything. She couldn't think-

"I'm not my dad. He was always so good at this, I'm sure he'd have it all figured out by now." Riley shrugged, small, pitiful little bubbles of semi-laughter popped up and out of her lips as she shook her head. Gaze eventually falling to her feet as her arms wrapped around her stomach.

She looked so small.

"Maybe..." Tyler started off gently, "but you can't know that. And I'm sorry, but have you met you? You are exactly like him, in a good way." Tyler points at her quickly as she went to open her mouth. "You are not a fuck up Riley. You're working harder than any other chaser I know to actually find answers, help people. But Jesus Christ Riley," He chuckled, beside himself, worry glazing over his eyes, "when is it going to be enough? You almost let yourself get crushed by a house! A couple hours ago! And then you just walked away like it was no big deal." Tyler couldn't stop more incredulous laughter from tumbling past his lips like missiles aiming right at her open wounds.

"So that a family could lay one of its members to rest intact!" Riley bit, chewing through every word. Nails digging into her palms.

The word hit him like a punch to the gut and flashes of that moment. Seeing Nathan's body, Riley sobbing under his weight and covered in her fathers blood. The woman, now grown, in front of him and lacking the rust-colored stains as the one in his memory.

"Ty, I'm sorry-" She wanted to kick herself. Screaming why?! Over and over and over. Tyler didn't let her finish though. Riley taking a step back at the shift in his posture, his shoulders slumping forward as his jaw dropped, quick breaths puffing in and out of his lungs.

"What about you? Is it me that's going to have to pull your body out of a house so I can bury you intact? Like I pulled you out of that truck?"

It felt like she had been dealt a physical blow, the way all the air left her body, as if punched in the stomach. That's what she would equate it to. That sounded right. Shit. Her eyes started to burn, still locked on Tyler's now wide-open orbs. His own shock painted so clearly in the blue-green waves, followed by guilt, and lastly, panic.

For the first time in a very long while, she was met with the familiar feeling of losing something she didn't think she ever would. But that was her fault, as per usual. It was all her fault.

"Riley-"

"Ri, there you are. I have been looking everywhere for you!" Riley was broken out of the fog she didn't even realize she had fallen into by the sudden jolt of a hand clapping her on the shoulder. Shaking her gently a bit before pulling her into his side.

"Daniel." She muttered, leaning more into his hold as exhaustion swept over her like a storm cloud on an April day in Oklahoma. Knees feeling like Jello all of a sudden.

"Hey there boss lady, we need your help with something." His arm over her shoulder anchored her, her hand coming up to grab his as he started to shift them away from the blonde man who looked like he was about to lose his mind.

"Wait- we were in the middle of something. Riley, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it- Not like that-"

Tyler stops in his tracks, having followed behind a couple step without hesitation, as Daniel whipped his head around with a far nastier glare than Tyler ever though such a baby face could make. His breaths felt heavy in his chest, Pulling away from Boone as he felt hands on his shoulder and back. Dragging a hand down his mouth and shaking his head as he could only watch Daniel take Riley away.

"We were worried you had found yourself buried under some other little old ladies house, Sarah, Jenny, and I at least." His voice was gentle, but still joking. Trying to bring the old Riley back, the one who would hang out the Warlock's window in the middle of a storm. Their Riley. Their fearless leader and most looked up to person. Their hero. "You're welcome for the assist, by the way. I take payment in affection and head pats." The 20-year-old grinned down at Riley and the slightly older young adult shook her head. Slowly coming back to herself. Her grin practiced, not meeting her eyes, having almost perfected it after pushing herself to meet their expectations – everyone's expectations – for years.

"Can it Casanova, save it for girls your own age." Riley could see the pure relief sink into Daniel's face and her head ached.

"What if I don't like girls my own age? What if I don't like girls?" He grinned brightly, still supporting her but bouncing up and down as best he could.

"Then why you looking at me like that, huh?" Riley elbowed his side a bit, wincing when her body ached, her side stinging at the movement.

"This is just how I look at people Riley. What are you talking about?"

"You are really pushing your luck kid."

"Ooh. It hurts, I may never recover!" He pretended to sputter and keel over, almost taking Riley with him. Daniel trying to keep his laughter at bay, conscious of their surroundings even when goofing off. While Riley forced hers to cover the shot of pain that went through her side at the sudden jolt.

"Good."

Daniel gasped and clapped a hand over his chest as he straightened up. Riley audibly groaning and gripping her side as he pulled her up with him.

"Sorry!"

~~*~~

“Thanks Sam.” Riley grunted as she tried not to flinch away from the feel of the needle going through skin. Fixing her ripped stitch. “You’re a lifesaver, knew it was a good decision to bring on a med student.”

“Ex-Pre-med student. You’re just lucky I watched way too much youtube way too early on in life with no parental controls in place.” Sam finished off the stitch and pressed a clean bandage over the area gently. Dead silence filling the room as three sets of eyes drilled into his head.

“I’m sorry what?” Riley breathed through clenched teeth.

“You said you knew how!” Sarah gasped, “You said-”

“I said I knew how, you never asked from where!” Sam defended himself, taking off his gloves and throwing his hands up.

“I thought it was obvious why I was asking you! The med student!”

“I was pre-med. For like six months!”

“Oh my god.” Riley muttered, falling back onto the motel mattress, her shirt falling back down as she threw her arm over her eyes.

“We trusted you!” Daniel chimed in, definitely not as angry as he was pretending to be. If anything, just based on his voice alone Riley could tell he was holding back laughter and she couldn’t help but think this was an incredibly stupid thing to be experiencing right now. And so she started laughing.

Then Daniel cracked, which triggered Sam, Sarah being the last to break. Actors.

~~*~~

It had been a couple hours since the whole youtube doctor incident, Daniel and Sam made pretty quick exits once it was confirmed she wasn’t going to die. Sarah stuck around a little longer, flouncing around the way she does when she’s worried and didn’t want to leave Riley alone.

The blonde managed to convince the brunette she was fine and was probably going to turn in early. No storms on radar, not ones that looked like they would produce anything till late tomorrow at the earliest. If not dissipate before anything could even really happen. Tomorrow would most likely be just a inventory and restock day. A day for data analysis and writing a couple more chapters of her thesis that needed to be turned in by the end of next week.

Riley’s mood had slightly increased but she still couldn’t seem to shake the lingering feeling of Tyler’s words. How they clung to her skin and ridges of her brain, the hurt. It brought up a lot of other unresolved feelings that then made her restless.

Trying to turn on the Tv for some white noise didn’t even help like it normally did, not when it was immediately on a local news channel. The broadcast showing footage from the wreckage at Crystal Lake. She knew it was torture to make herself watch it when she spent all day in it, having only washed it off her skin and hair before Sam fixed her stitches. But the feeling of debris dust and dirt and dried blood would always be a sensation that would never leave her mind or her skin. Lingering guilt hanging like a sword.

What is the saying? Heavy is the head that lies the crown.

All the damage played out in front of her as dollar signs flashed at the top, how much can an estimation of the face value even really touch the priceless thing those people had just lost? The feeling of home. Everything they once had, shattered. It can’t be tallied. It’s impossible.

But they still try. It’s absurd.

Quiet knocks at her door cut through the Tv. Riley rolling her eyes and huffing, pushing herself off the mattress slowly, “I’m fine Sarah! You don’t need to tuck me in,” Her hand gripped the door handle, pulling it open, “I’m a big girl I-”

“Hey.” Tyler really tried to tamper down his grin, but he knew he was caught. He never could hide from her.

His laughter wasn’t out loud, but she could see it, and it made her want to shrivel up and die on the spot. Honestly hoping for a hole to open in the ground and swallow her whole. They were in the wrong state for that unfortunately.

“I uh- I heard through the grape vine you and your child army had moved out by the rodeo, and I uh thought you might be hungry. You always forget to eat after a bad chase…” Tyler kept going until it was almost physically painful, until he simply, awkwardly, held up the pizza box in his grip. Like a kid giving his first ever date to the school dance her corsage. It was like a shock to her system, how disarmed she could be for him when he was like this. No bravado, no smirk or cowboy hat. Hair a little messy and not all put together. When he was Ty.

Time to go. Is what her brain was screaming at her.

So she took the pizza, gave him a flash of what she hope passed as a grin and shut the door. His face turning down at every corner as the door clicked in place. Riley, as if made of metal walked over to her bed, sat down, opened the pizza, and looked down.

Pepperoni, sausage, and olives. Her favorite.

Fuck.

Her hands were finding the door before she could really think about what she was doing. Her eyes meeting Tyler’s in an instant, the man’s shoulders rolling back as he stood taller. At attention, waiting for her next move.

Riley opened the door a bit more, leaning on it, hand gently placed over her right side, “Find the dog?” she asked softly, head leaning against the door now as well.

He just looked at her, eyebrows raising.

“Of course you did, what am I thinking?” She answers her own question with a pitiful chuckle. Head dipping down as her eyes went to her socked feet.

“I’m sorry Riley. I feel like I’m saying that a lot lately, I just- there isn’t really an excuse for it. I’ve been an ass, and I apologize.” Tyler burst out after taking a breath, dipping his head down to try and meet Riley’s eye. He hated when she was like this, especially when she was like this because in part of something he said.

“Thank you.”

“How are you doing after all that?” Tyler swallowed, tucking his chin a bit and stuffing his hands in his pockets. Leaning against the door frame, but giving Riley her space. Mentally telling himself to pull it together.

Riley just shrugged, “You know me, can handle the storm but never the aftermath.” Not after becoming the aftermath. It was never the same after that.

“I thought that you might want to see something good after all that today.” He held out his hand. “I wanna take you somewhere, might help take your mind off things for a bit.” His grin was hopeful, but cautious. His gaze soft.

Earlier had been bad, as bad as it gets with them, but this feeling. That look. It always left her stomach filled with proverbial butterflies, made her think that as long as Tyler Owens cared about her enough to look at her like that, that everything would be okay. And it would be, because he would make it okay, because he cared.

It was a look she didn’t think he would ever give her again after last chase seasons dramatic, heartbreaking close. So, she takes his hand, gives it a quick squeeze. He turned it over and sees the blistering and cuts that dotted her palms. Wounds she hadn’t even realized were there until they got to the new motel. Her breath got caught in her throat and she pulled away out of instinct. Tyler looked crushed and that was just too much for her conscience to bear. Her mouth moves before she knows it is. 

“Give me a minute? I need to get changed.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll be out here.” Tyler grinned, a slight bounce in his step as he backed away from the doorway and moved back to the railing surrounding the walkway around the second floor looking into the parking lot and across the street. Riley waiting till the door was closed to let her smile slip, something feeling like it was sliding back into place and locking in. Like she had finally found the next correct piece of a jigsaw puzzle.

It was a nice feeling. Like something was going right for once.

~~*~~

[zephfair]

Pynch rom-com part 1

Going through my WIPs, trying to delete or finish, found this ridiculous one that's 90% finished. But I don't know if anyone will even read it, so I'm putting up the first part here so you can get a feel for it.

It takes place in a what-if late-20s Adam didn't change after TDT and remained a workaholic overachiever while Ronan sold Dream stuff etc. Established relationship, will contain some smut, this is just a little look at Adam/Ronan and comedy.

Will anyone read this if I finish the last part? Thanks in advance.

“Ronan, I am so fucked,” Adam hissed into his cell phone, trying to keep his voice down as he shut the door of his office but loud enough to make sure Ronan could hear how distraught he was. “So. Very. Fucked.”

“Really,” Ronan drawled back. “You’re calling to confess your infidelities right now? You couldn’t wait until I get home to tell me how you’re getting fucked?”

“My infidelities? What? Oh shut up,” Adam snapped then lowered his voice again. “I am in so much fucking trouble. Please tell me everything you know about golf.”

“Hmm? Golf? Like, pasture pool?”

“Pasture what?” Adam tried very hard not to screech at his beloved but also tryingly burdensome boyfriend.

“That’s what my dad used to call it. He would… Dick! Watch my six! How many times do I have to tell you! Fuck it all to hell!”

“Lynch, are you shooting Nazi-zombie-alien whatevers while I’m trying to talk to you?!”

“Well, not any more since <i>somebody</i> let one creep up right behind us and kill me. Damn it, Dick.”

Adam could hear a familiar voice mumbling through Ronan’s gaming setup and he lit up. “Is that Gansey? Lemme talk to him. He should know all about golf.”

“Yeah, typical rich white dickhead sport.”

“Exactly.”

Adam heard Ronan turn volumes up and down, put his phone on speaker, and then got part of Gansey’s monologue about how exactly they were doomed to be killed that round and how their strategies needed to change if they wanted to ever advance to the next level.

“Gansey, tell me everything you know about golf,” Adam ordered.

“Oh, Parrish, hello! Are you playing with us? I thought Ronan was at the Barns?”

“He is, the indolent bastard,” Adam said to Ronan’s loud snort. “He’s supposed to be going through more of the <i>special inventory</i> but instead he’s playing video games in the middle of the damn day while some of our lives are falling down around us.”

“Wow, drama queen much,” Ronan said while Gansey made sympathetic noises.

“I’m not a drama queen when it’s just that everything I’ve built up since law school could be going down the toilet.”

“Parrish, you’re a brilliant attorney. I don’t know what you’re worried about.”

So Adam told them. One of the firm’s biggest clients—the Winthorpe family who owned all sorts of companies and real estate and did all kinds of transactions that attorneys drooled over for being relatively simple yet eminently billable—was soon to be up for grabs. The partner Willis Lloyd who had handled the family for twenty years was getting ready to take early retirement, due, in no small part Adam was sure, to the Winthorpe business.

Normally the account would pass to another senior partner, but word was either Winthorpe or Lloyd wanted a long-term business relationship without major change like they’d had for all those years. So Lloyd had been on the lookout for a junior partner to take over and handle the bulk of the work under his close guidance for the first year or so.

However, Mr. Winthorpe and his son Winthorpe the younger, who was angling to take over the business eventually, hadn’t found any of the junior partners to their liking and Lloyd was frustrated. It wasn’t until he’d taken to meeting with the younger associate members of the firm that he decided to introduce Adam to the Winthorpes.

The first meeting had gone very well, Adam thought, but he hadn’t wanted to risk daydreaming about how landing the account would literally make his career. If he managed to become the Winthorpes’ attorney, he could take his own early retirement in thirty years, but he couldn’t bear to think about it because too many other experienced attorneys stood in the way.

Then Lloyd called him in for another meeting with Winthorpe and Adam met his son Gregory who smiled at Adam and sat closer than strictly necessary and praised his PowerPoint and asked if Adam would like to join him for dinner.

Adam had taken about two seconds to decide whether or not he’d whore himself out for this deal, but when he thought of the future possibilities, he accepted the dinner and told Ronan he had nothing to worry about, it was all professional, Adam wouldn’t even flirt.

“Oh sure, him you’ll put out for for money but I can’t even pay you to take out the fucking garbage cans when it’s my turn on trash night,” Ronan had grumbled, mostly joking (Adam hoped).

“I’m getting the milk for free, Lynch, I don’t have to pay the cow,” he’d teased back.

Adam knew that it was okay when Ronan retorted, “See if you get any of my good quality cream anytime soon.”

Thankfully, Mr. Winthorpe had joined them for dinner and invited Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd so it was much less a date and more of a very booze-filled interview.

Adam still didn’t let himself hope until Winthorpe and Lloyd scheduled another meeting with him that very Monday that he feared would unravel the life he’d made for himself, reveal all the lies he’d carefully crafted about himself and his history.

It happened when Winthorpe casually mentioned that he wished his son took more interest in his own hobby of golf. Gregory scoffed and turned to Adam and said, “It’s more an older man’s game, don’t you think?”

Adam reached for prevarication that would please them both and ended up with, “It’s popular for a reason, surely. ”

To which Lloyd said, “Do you golf, Parrish?”

And he fake-laughed and said he hadn’t been since he was in college and some friends introduced him to a golf course. He didn’t think that their drunken run, and subsequently throwing up in a sandy spot while Adam stood guard, counted.

“What’s your handicap?” Winthorpe had asked, and Adam knew he didn’t meant Adam’s hearing loss.

“I don’t know, to be honest. We only played very casually a few times in college. I never had the time to pursue it. Harvard didn’t leave much time for leisure activities.”

“It looks like you spent your time in the gym,” Gregory Winthorpe said with a white-toothed smile that made Adam automatically smile maniacally back.

“Well,” Winthorpe said, sealing Adam’s fate, “Lloyd and I have a tee time Thursday afternoon, I’d love if you’d join us.”

Adam tried to perk up at the coveted invitation after a side glance at Lloyd who nodded slightly. “That would be terrific. Thank you for the invitation. I’ll look forward to it.”

Gregory rolled his eyes but they’d all shook on it, Adam had ushered them from his tiny office, then collapsed against the door to call his unsympathetic boyfriend.

“Golf is an excellent opportunity for networking outside the office while sharing bonding experiences through the trials and tribulations of a sport where you are simultaneously competing against your colleagues as well as your own personal best,” Gansey said.

There was silence. “Well fuck,” Adam and Ronan said at the same time.

Gansey sniffed. “It’s one of father’s favorite hobbies. He always says he can learn more about a client from just one round than from a year of business meetings.”

“I’m so fucked,” Adam moaned then stuffed his fist against his mouth so no one would hear him. “They’re going to find out I’m nothing but a trailer trash hillbilly pretending to be an Ivy League grad.”

“Oh bullshit,” Ronan said while Gansey tutted chidingly “Parrish really. You <i>are</i> an Ivy League grad, with highest honors, I must remind you.”

While they bickered, Adam frantically googled golf and his eyes glazed over at all the terms—bogies and eagles and birdies, “Oh my,” Adam said a little hysterically.

Each course was different, each hole very different, and how was he going to learn this plus the actual physical requirements, that one website claimed it could take a lifetime to perfect a swing, what the actual fuck. And he was spiraling. His entire career was going to come apart and leave him destitute all because he didn’t know how to hit a fucking tiny white ball around a fucking huge field. And the clubs, there were so many, all different numbers, did he have to memorize this?!

“Haven’t you ever been miniature golfing? You could at least get a feel for putting,” Gansey suggested.

“I blasted the hat off the clown once on the last hole of mini golf,” Ronan said which wasn’t helpful in the least. Adam didn’t even know that mini golf courses had clowns and why would Ronan sound so gleeful at assaulting one.

“Oh shit, Gans, remember that time I shot your ball off the windmill and it went right into that chick’s ice cream cup and her boyfriend was so pissed, he started after us?” Ronan was laughing now while Gansey said stiffly, “Yes, I remember, there’s still a dent in the trunk of the Pig where he punched it.”

Ronan was lost laughing in pleasant memories, and Adam was ready to kill him.

“Lynch,” Gansey’s voice suddenly interrupted, “could you please hold this for a second?”

“Sure, what’re you—holy fuck, that’s a goddamn grenade! Fuck my ass!”

And it was Gansey’s turn to cackle a laugh Adam rarely heard as Ronan’s avatar apparently blew up with a loud boom.

“I’m going to kill you, you giant dickweed,” Ronan promised and Gansey started reminding him about the magic of love and friendship or something bullshit like that.

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose but it did nothing to stave off his stress- and boyfriend- and friend-related headache. “As much as I appreciate listening to you two killing each other, I have a lot of work to do. And golf to research.”

“Parrish, you’ll be fine,” Gansey’s voice could still hold that ultimate reassuring/commanding tone, even through three phones. It almost calmed Adam down. “Listen to me. Don’t drive yourself to a nervous breakdown because of this. You won’t lose your job, and you may even find out you enjoy a new pastime.” He had to pause when both Adam and Ronan snorted in near-perfect harmony. “Either way, you’ll be okay. I promise.”

“I know you’re trying to make me feel better, Gansey,” Adam pinched between his eyebrows where the fierce headache was rapidly taking off. “But I need to go freak out for a while.”

“Understood. Just take care,” Gansey answered.

“Sounds like your life plan might not be up to par,” Ronan said. “Get it? Par? That’s a golf word.”

“Shut the fuck up, Lynch,” Adam said with more rancor than he expected.

Ronan snorted again. “Call me tonight when you’re ready for phone sex.”

Gansey squawked and Adam sighed. “Tamquam.”

“Alter idem,” came the quick reply and then Ronan hung up, leaving Adam with his headache and five tabs open already for his golf research. But first...he had his regular eight hours of work to tackle.

Adam scheduled himself another fifteen-minute break that afternoon to panic about golf. He multi-tasked while eating an energy bar and an apple for lunch. While he skimmed through a couple highly rated YouTube tutorials that only made him despair further, he realized the demonstrators were all dressed similarly.

Shit, he hadn’t even thought about what he’d wear. God, would he need a special wardrobe? And all the equipment? Fuck, how much money would he be expected to shell out for one damn afternoon that was going to sink his career and cost him his job? He cut off the thought before he could spiral, made a note of it in the file on his phone that he had started with his golf questions, and went back to work.

Normally when Ronan was out of town, Adam took the opportunity to work late, getting ahead on projects so he could knock off a few hours earlier throughout the week night to spend the time with Ronan. Although he was definitely distracted, he thought he’d better pull a long night because he’d need more time off later in the week. Plus it might be good leverage to point out to Lloyd when he inevitably tried to fire Adam for being such a poser.

He was definitely dragging when he finally opened the door to the townhouse that night, a bag of fast food clamped in his teeth, bag and keys and files filling his hands. He settled on the couch with his laptop, tablet, and phone then opened the file of golf questions and started frantic googling on his laptop and tablet.

It turned out the golfing outfit was the easiest part. From flipping through news stories of the top PGA golfers, they all looked normal enough. It made Adam’s nose crinkle when he saw the prices, but he figured ordering a major name like Nike from a local department store was the safest bet to be delivered the next day. It only took a pair of khakis-- because while he had his own for business casual meetings, he didn’t know if there was a secret to golf pants so better safe than sorry—a navy polo shirt that almost made him grin at memories of Gansey, a hat he’d never wear again, and gloves.

The only thing he balked at was the shoes. He already knew he was going to suck at playing golf, and an expensive pair of shoes was not going to help his performance at all. Besides Ronan had some new trainers laying around, he could borrow something to match his very conservative outfit so he wouldn’t stand out in a bad way but look professional.

He was reading up on the country club’s course on the tablet and watching a golf pro’s instructions on the perfect swing on his laptop when Ronan’s request for FaceTime came through on his phone.

Adam rubbed a hand over his tired eyes and accepted.

“You’re still wearing clothes?” was the greeting that made him sigh loudly.

“We’re not having phone sex tonight. I’m too stressed out.”

“Sex can help with that,” came the reply followed by a loud crunch.

That made Adam look at his phone for the first time then double-take. “Are you really naked, in your childhood bed, eating potato chips while trying to seduce me into phone sex?”

Ronan popped another chip in his mouth and asked crunchily, “Is it working?”

“Not even a little bit,” Adam said dryly. “Unbelievable, Lynch.”

Ronan just shrugged his bare shoulders. “You just get home from work?”

“A little while ago. I’m trying to learn how to play golf.”

“D’you google ‘how to play golf’?”

“Yes, and it was surprisingly unhelpful and overwhelming at the same time. Did you know these assholes say it can take a lifetime to ‘establish the proper swing’? Who the hell has time for that?”

“It’s all a waste of time and money,” Ronan said sagely. “Think of all the sex we could be having while those old rich idiots waste their time on swinging their thing. I’d rather be helping you swing your thing.”

“You know, I have to agree with you there.”

“Maybe they do this rather than having sex with their wives.”

They shared a snicker, then Adam sighed. “There’s too much, Lynch. I can learn the basics on paper, all the terms and technical shit, but I don’t have enough time to play golf or even schedule a lesson I can’t afford at the country club before we go.”

“What about going to one of those places where you just hit the ball as hard as you can? Gansey took me to one once when we were visiting his family. It was fun until the dude told me I wasn’t supposed to be aiming for the staff cart. How was I to know they weren’t an intentional moving target?”

Adam snorted in amusement despite himself and typed rapidly. “A driving range? That it?”

“Sure,” Ronan said.

“Okay, there’s one right outside of town, and yes! They’re open until seven tomorrow night. I’ll call first thing in the morning and reserve a time. I can maybe get a couple hours in practice. There’s even staff members there, so maybe someone can give me pointers.”

“Great. See, I told you that you’d figure things out. Now, about that sex…”

“Still a no, Lynch.”

“Well, how about you keep bitching and complaining and just let me listen and watch.”

Adam narrowed his eyes at him. Ronan raised an eyebrow, unimpressed at his attempt at intimidation. “You really wanna get off to me bitching and complaining?”

“I’ve got nearly a decade’s experience at it. What can I say? You stressing out and being mean gets me hot,” Ronan deadpanned.

“Fuck you.”

“Wish you would,” Ronan winked at him and Adam almost, almost cracked a grin.

Instead he shook his head in frustration. “I’ve got more research to do, and oh, I have to find out if I can rent clubs somewhere. I don’t know anything about the equipment I’ll need.”

“Do you want me to come home tomorrow?” Ronan asked, in all seriousness.

Adam considered the offer just as seriously. “Are you done with what you needed to do at the Barns?”

He could tell already from Ronan’s grimace that the answer was no, so Adam sighed. “Come home Wednesday, like you planned.”

“How about I look around, see what all kind of sports shit my dad squirreled away. I’ll bring you anything that looks useful, okay?” Adam nodded, and Ronan went on, “Look, I know you can’t believe this right now, but this is not going to affect your career. You’re the best damn attorney they have, and they’re lucky to have you.”

Adam appreciated his enthusiasm, he did, but “Just, let me freak the fuck out for a while. I’m so tired.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow night,” Ronan promised. “But if you need me in the meantime…”

“I know where to find you,” Adam finally smiled a little. They exchanged a few more words and hung up, and Adam had to admit he felt a little relieved to know that Ronan would be coming home and helping him.