#this man finished his therapy and is STILL a hot mess

[velvet-paradox]

Secured (Part One)

Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: König x Female reader Summary: wanting a little slower pace in his military career, König takes a calmer, desk job while he recovers. After a bit of a mix up on shifts, König is now in charge of what comes next. (I've been watching The Night Agent and got inspired!) Length: Medium Warnings: explicit content, strong language, eventual NSFW. ENJOY!

König had fully intended to listen to his mother's concerns the last time he visited her cozy little cottage on the hillside. Tended-to garden, trimmed up grass from the helpful lads that lived just down the road. He'd been injured, shot in the shoulder where conditioned muscle met bone, got treated and sent home with strict orders to take it easy.

Relax.

Live a little.

And he did just that.

Enjoying his time with is mother, resurfacing memories of when he was a boy, less scarred and jovial then the man posted up on her afghan covered couch. Physical therapy was bitch, even a pint couldn't stoke off the fire that burned into his joints.

He was also enjoying homecooked meals and not the usual mess hall offerings or freeze dried lumps they'd slap tantalizing names on the plain, brown packaging, as the stuff inside were actually up to snuff.

Ja right!

"You ought to settle down now , König. You have been fighting for most of your life, you should be living, traveling and seeing the world with the love of your life under arm. Don't you want that?"

Of course he did.

Most of his life were acts of service, finished deeds, quotas. Filling out paperwork, signing classified documents, pursuing the worst of the worst, taking down targets, letting his life on the actual line for the greater good.

Did a certain foreign dictator need to be 'rescued' from their senate floor and taken to an undisclosed location and threated, beaten and broken for an extended amount of time until intel was finally given through broken teeth and a bloody jaw? Perhaps.

Was a 'missing' senator maybe not so missing after all under the clutches of the Austrian and with good reason, added sex trafficking was highly frowned upon and under his high ranking position too? Not on his watch.

Yes blood was on his hands, in his hair, in his mouth but those same hands wanted to also be washed clean, to hold another, to touch another.

Sometimes he'd feel unworthy, all these acts, all these years in the military formed the man laying in his bed, the same four walls that molded him, crafted him like clay. That maybe all his hard work wasn't worth all the damage. His shoulder screamed when rubbed his hands over his face.

….

"How she doin'?" Sebastian Krueger asked the following morning, sipping tea from one his mothers' glass cabinets, sitting across from König at a little table and chair set behind the cottage. He'd already eaten two biscuits was not so subtly eyeing the third one of the decorative plate.

"Mother is well, she'll be back from the market soon. You should stay for dinner, I have half a mind that she is trying to fatten me up like some Christmas goose!"

"You know I wasn't going to say any-"

"Then don't!"

Krueger chuckled and broke off half the biscuit instead.

"She must be happy to have you home for a bit, not off on field duty."

"A little too happy," König took a long, hot sip, savoring the honey on his tongue. "She thinks I should settle down, find a partner, live life while I still can."

"Is she wrong?"

"Nein. I want those things as well, Seb. I just don't know where to start! I've been on deployment after deployment, cots, and safe houses since I was seventeen. How do I talk to a woman about a life like that? One isn't going to just fall into my lap, you know?"

"I could set you up with someone if you like?"

"Yeah right," König snorted and finished his tea. "I'm not taking fucking dating advice from you."

"Why not?" Krueger eyed him, expression laden all the way up to his hairline.

"Because smart pants, you don't know any women to set me up with!"

Krueger pondered his words, eyes narrow, mouth opening and closing, lost in thought he just grunted and finished off the rest of that biscuit in defeat.

"It is smarty pants by the way!"

König heard Sebastian shout as he made his way through the threshold of the open back door to refill their cups.

….

Four months.

Four months of softly changing his sheets, helping his mother about the house, going for runs through the jagged hills, splashing his face with fresh creek water, chewing on wild growing ramps. Bringing back little rocks to add to his mother under-window flower beds, he'd done so since he was a knee high boy. She had saved them all of course.

He was starting to lose his mind, the pain meds his doktor had prescribed sat half full on the nightstand, he took them as needed but for the most part he punished himself, testing his own pain tolerance as means of an endurance challenge of sorts. He needed to do something, anything, to get out of the house.

Sebastian suggested he come back to work, take a desk job, fill out reports, that sort of thing to make his life a little more interesting until he was medically cleared for field operations.

"I know of another type of job, real laid back, you don't have to do too much physically." Kruger had mentioned one sunny, yet cold afternoon.

"Like what?"

"Ever heard of Night Division?"

"Nein, I have not." König had answered, a query on his mask covered face. Sounded interesting.

"There is a reason for that, it is a top secret op, need to know basis," Krueger pulled him in close on their walk through the base, stopping by the archway that lead to the rec room. "If you want in, let me know, I'll get you clearance and I'll walk you through it. If not; not harm, no foul."

König considered it, contemplated it for the rest of the day. He was feeling a bit down, his shoulder throbbed something fucking fierce every fours or so, letting him know he was still in the healing stages, still on the mend. But a cushy little desk job, keep him occupied, maybe he could get caught up on a few books he'd started and had to put down or leave behind, relax at a desk like he had when he first started out after basic. He could do something like that.

Sebastian was right; this job would keep dinner on the table and the lights on. It was simple enough as well, answer the phone when it rang and flashed burnt orange (according to Krueger this phone hadn't actually rung in two months). Monitor the actions, pay attention to the caller in need of assistance, ask the appropriate questions in order to render aid.

König brought a thermos and a water bottle full of ice. He was afforded a notepad and pen, a binder in the top right drawer of a silver desk, the left held a rolodex of people who might be calling in need.

He'd been at it for two weeks now, no phone calls, caught up on three books already as he reclined back in the softest office chair he's ever sat his behind in. Ankles locked, boots on the table reading, belly full. Then it happened.

The phone rang, a shrill sound that damn near rocked him right out of that chair! His book fell to the floor, loosing his page instantly. The orange flashed urgently as König scrambled to get out his notebook to take notes and location, the binder that held random question whoever was on Night Division duties to ask to make sure they were truly talking to who they were supposed to. The phone number as Krueger had told him was only given out to military, not a simple phone number one might find scribbled on a folded up post-it or bar napkin.

König cleared his throat and picked up the receiver, holding it tightly to his ear.

"Hallo, what is the color of the day?" König asked, clicked pen at the ready and pressed onto the first page.

"What? I don't know! I need help." A frantic woman hushed her voice into the phone, he could some shuffling and light grunting.

"Ma'am, I need the color of the day before I can assist you."

"I don't fucking know! Please help me." The woman gasped and he could hear something close.

"Miss this is a very secure line-"

"I know that. Night Division, right? My brother said if anything suspicious happened while he was deployed, I should call this number immediately. Which is what I am doing!"

"Without the color, miss-"

"Please, sir. There's two people breaking into the house, their looking for something. I don't want them to find me. There's a crawl space in my brothers' closet, that's where I am." The woman rasped, panic in her voice made König uneasy, things could get messy fast, he knew that first hand.

"I do not know your location."

"There's a rolodex in the top left drawer of your desk, my brothers' name and address are in there. And hurry!" She growled lowly.

"Name?"

"[REDACTED]."

"I'll send over someone."

"What? You're not coming?" The woman almost sounded offended, as if he had stood her up on a date or backed out of a last minute party.

"This is my station, miss. I can't leave my post, another call might come through."

The pregnant pause made him even more uneasy, as he wrote down the boyfriend's name and address with three scratches of his pen below it.

"I don't want to die like this." The woman exclaimed with a sniffle.

….

Much to König's surprise when he told his supervisors that a phone call had come in, he didn't realize that meant he was the one to answer it meant that in the very sense. Another selected Night Division advocate would take his place.

They handed him a standard service weapon, shoved a bullet proof vest to his bulky chest and sent out on his way. He even got to pick which company car from the lot. The SUV handled beautifully, the screen on the dash showing the coordinates to the Division caller. He cut the lights as he turned down the block, a quiet, wet residential street. Most of the cars were put away in their garages, all but one.

König memorized the plate, just in case things got hairy.

He could see movement in the house, shadows dancing in the low light. He narrowed his eyes, and softly exited the vehicle, approaching the house like the thieves already inside. König maneuvered around the back of the house, rolling his bad shoulder before kicking open the back door. He could hear muffled voices from inside, startled footsteps, a new magazine is put into a weapon that stands no chance against the man advancing in the darkness, especially when he flips down his night vision goggles.

"Whoever the hell you are, you owe me a new door asshole!" A raspy man calls in the dark.

"Sorry. Are you [REDEACTED]?" König asked, already knowing the answer.

"Who?"

"Didn't think so!"

König held his gun steady as rain, aimed true at one of the intruders. The man before him was crouched and steadily raising to his feet in the foyer, hands up.

"Do not do anything stupid, well more stupid than breaking into someone's house."

"Easy big guy, [REDACTED] is my brother, he asked me to check on the place while he's on vacation."

"Vacation, ja? Where to?"

"Uh Spain I believe he said." The man mumbled something.

"Then why are you in the dark? Go ahead and turn the lights." König suggested.

The man reacted by reaching behind him and swiftly pulled out a blade, the metal glinting in the darkness.

Big mistake.

Though König is on the larger scale in terms of height and weight, he is quite agile, a superb trait and bonus to his career. The blade came right at him but was easily slapped away by his gloved hand, the man reached back for another but ever the observant Austrian, he located the light switch panel next to him, flipped up his goggles and whacked the room into brightness, exposing everyone to the white hot lights. A woman tried to bum rush him and failed as she made a distressing sound when she hit the floor, her loosely held gun skidded away.

The second attempt at throwing a blade stuck to the wall beside him, König ripped it out of the dry wall and threw it back at the man in the foyer, landing perfecting in the shoulder. The man wailed out in pain, the woman scrambled for the gun only to slide it further out of reach.

König pointed his gun and undid the safety.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the woman looked up at his towering frame, her head jerked slightly and she slowly put her hands up. "Get your little friend and leave, you wish to wake up tomorrow do you not?"

They left without a fuss while König cleared the rest of the house. Not too much damage, the office behind the French doors was a mess though and going to be a bitch to put back in order but that wasn't his problem.

"Miss?" König called out after finishing his sweep of the first floor.

"Miss you can come out now. We talked on the phone. Night Division. You're safe now."

As he made his way up the staircase, lined with paintings of landscapes and bodies of water, the door to his immediate right swung open and the woman appeared.

"Oh!" She was startled, no doubt by his mask and head coverings, by the way he was steadily putting away his service weapon. His size in comparison to hers.

Her eyes went wide and she slightly hugged the doorframe, a baseball bat in hand. Her expression ranged from frightened, to skeptical, to calm in an ease of seconds.

"I didn't mean to startle you." König apologized.

"It's not.. sorry. You're who I spoke with. Are there more of you?" She asked peering around him, or at least what she could, clutching her cellphone and bat.

"Just me I'm afraid."

"Oh. Did you kill them?"

"Maimed."

"Good. I don't think there's enough peroxide to clean that up."

"You've cleaned up blood before?"

"You do see that I'm a woman, right? I've been cleaning up blood since I was twelve." The woman cocked her head to the side with a snort and dropped the bat down to her side.

König got the OK to clear the rest of the second floor, just in case. All was well and he followed her down the stairs, pointing out the mess the intruders had made of the office.

"You mentioned they were looking for something. Did you hear what exactly?" He asked from the doorway, watching her side steps and tip toe about the space, moving a crooked lamp, picking up a few pillows from a small futon in the corner, a woven blanket.

"Something called Eden. Does that mean anything to you?" The woman asked, putting her brothers' things back in order. The sound of shuffling papers being neatly stacked once more made for a delightful background noise.

"No but I'll look into it. You should get ready."

"You certainly cannot stay here, miss. Those two dirt bags might come back with more firepower and back up. Nein nein, you shall come with me to a safe house after a debriefing at the base." König explained, watching her face rise and fall with understanding that the man before her was right. "My superiors will want to know what you have told me."

"Oh. Yeah. Right."

König waited patiently in the office, looking at childhood photos of the woman who was pounding the floor upstairs, gathering some belongings. Her brother's Marine portrait, certificates of accomplishments and replica swords lined the wall behind the wood stained desk.

She knocked on the side of the office doorframe soon after, giving him a thumbs up.

….

"You said Eden, correct?" Kim Hong-jin or another masked man by the codename Horangi sat down with König and his charge. He was used to the cold conference room, the woman beside him, shivering and rubbing her hands before sitting upon them, did not.

Mid conversation, König shouldered off his jacket and draped it over his shoulders, dwarfing her in size. She gave him a nervous smile before continuing.

"Did they mean to hurt you, the duo?"

"I don't know. They just broken in through the side door, my brother, [REDACTED] has three entrances to his place, I got a Ring notification and hid. I'd never seen them before but they were adamant that my brother had something they wanted."

"Hmmm. We'll look into it, see what rocks we can over turn," Horangi scribbled down some information, circling a few keywords from your statement. "König; take her to the old farmhouse on 84th, hasn't been used in a beat, could use a tune up. Keep yourselves occupied until further notice." Horangi shook the woman's hand before gathering up the folder and notes. "Oh and König?"

"Ja?"

"Don't let her out of your sight."

The ride to the farmhouse was a bumpy one, the cabin of the SUV jostled the pair around, rocks and pebbles no doubt threatening with good merit to get lodged into the tread of the tires. The crooked place came into view from just the headlights, on bright of course, started to appear along the empty dirt road. There wasn't a neighbor for miles König and his partner noticed once they took their exit ramp from the highway, making sure they weren't being followed.

He held the door open for her, taking the duffel bag from her lap, flipping it over his shoulder like an afterthought.

"I never did get your name," the woman said, walking up the rocky driveway to the creaking porch as König took out the keys Horangi had given him on their way out from base. "Suppose I ought to know who I'm being shacked up with."

König snorted and put the key into the lock. "You can call me König ." "Hmm, nice ring to it if you ask me." She said, fumbling along the wall until the lights came on, showering the cozy house in a nice warm glow.

"And you are, miss?" He asked and placed her bag down on a stiff looking couch.

She spun on her heel and held out her hand in salutations. "I'm Y/N."

Even in the country light and glow of the almost yellow/orange lighting, you looked great. Not that he thought you looked bad; at all. He realized you were incredibly attractive the moment you popped out of your brothers' room, weapon and phone in hand. Hair mussed, face contorted with relief at his presence, stroking his ego.

You looked around, checking the rotary phone on a polished side table. Lifting the pewter Eiffel Tower, the fake flowers were dusty and the place reeked of mothballs.

The kitchen was decent, a little round table with a cheap plastic table cloth, four chairs with matching tied cushions.

"Not too bad," you announced after rummaging through the empty fridge. "I could live here."

"How long do you reckon we shall be out in the sticks?" König asked, more so out loud to himself than to you.

"Who knows. We'll need to go to the store in the morning, fuck all is in this place. Not even a water pitcher!"

"We will just have to take it day by day, I'm scared."

You snorted. "You're scared? You. All what? eight fuckin' miles of you. You're scared."

"I mean uh… I'm afraid. You'll forgive me, I tangle my words sometimes."

"Clearly! We should check out the rooms, I call first dibs!" You shouted, brushing past him like a child or wobbly infant, thundering your footsteps to the second floor. He could hear you exclaiming up there, bouncing on one squeaking bed in favor of the other as he locked up the house.

"Found mine, fend for yourself big guy."

He took the third room, at the top of the landing, it's bedspread reminding him of sweet grass summers. He laid there for awhile on top of the covers, telling you to keep your door open just in case. He could hear you snoring lightly, could picture the rise and fall of your breaths, timing them on his watch before he crept down the stairs, taking sudden notice that the fourth stair from the bottom creaked at just the right spot to the right.

He propped himself into an armchair by the sheer curtain covered window by the door.

Ever cautious.

Hyper aware.

He knew he wouldn't sleep and had planned on being awake as soon as Horangi sent you on your way from base.

He didn't mind.

He was being useful which filled his head with light, happy thoughts.

[nordschleifes]

body work

➝ maybe agreeing to go to saudi arabia wasn't a bad idea…

➝ word count: 4,5k

➝ warnings: dakar!fer, flirting, mentions of bdsm, hot weather

➝ author's note: this last week has been extremely difficult for me, both emotionally and physically. i had a terrible migraine attack that left me practically unable to do anything other than cry or want to vomit. however, when she gave me a break, i managed to finish this one shot. i would really like your feedback, if possible!

You could feel your white t-shirt sticking to your skin, as well as your hair on the back of your neck. The desert sun made even the slightest effort feel Herculean, the hot wind doing little to alleviate the heat you felt even under the tent pitched on a stony plain near Al Wajh.

This was definitely not the way you wanted to start your year, but it wasn't like you had much of a choice. With a practically free schedule and a colleague unable to travel due to personal problems, it was up to you to go to Saudi Arabia to take care of one of the clinic's most famous patients.

— Fernando is almost here — you heard someone murmur next to you. Turning your face, you found a man with wavy hair messed up by the wind and his eyes half-closed as he looked at the horizon, searching for something on the horizon.

— Are you sure, Alberto? — you asked the businessman, raising an eyebrow — It's been ten minutes since people started arriving and nothing about them...

— From what they said, they were right behind another Toyota — he said, while a cloud of dust rose in the distance, indicating that another competitor was arriving at the competition camp — Ah, look at him there.

After crossing the finish line, you accompanied Alberto in an attempt to take the red, white and black painted Hilux to the closest point to the motorhome that had become your base of operations. As you approached the vehicle, which smelled of hot oil and gasoline, you saw the door suddenly open, revealing a figure wearing a blue helmet and a black jumpsuit with white and red trim.

— How it was? — Alberto asked, while the driver disconnected something from the central panel.

— Sand, stone and dust for ten hours — Fernando replied, as he unbuckled his seat belt and removed his helmet, revealing a tired smile — Ten hours! Can you believe that?

— I do — the businessman said, while helping the driver out of the truck. After throwing his helmet on the seat and hugging Alberto, Fernando headed towards the reporters who were crowding around a railing to talk to him.

Watching the driver take off his sandy coveralls, leaving his sweaty white Nomex in full view, you felt something warm rise up your cheeks, teeth finding your bottom lip.

You had never been carried away by the physical nature of your work. The barriers you had placed for yourself were always firm, as were your ethics that dictated that you should never get involved with anyone who requested your services. But since you had set foot in Jeddah, you have seen your own conviction tested every day.

And it was getting harder and harder to resist.

Taking a deep breath, you turned and headed towards the tent set up next to Fernando's motorhome. Upon entering the space, you realized how much needed to be done there before the driver arrived for his much needed physical therapy session. You still had to set up the table, arrange the materials and put on the instrumental playlist you loved. “Let’s go”, you thought as you headed towards your bag.

You were whistling some tune while lighting the scented candles when you heard a clearing of your throat coming from behind. When you turned around, you met Fernando's dark, curious eyes.

— Which song is that? — he asked.

— Ah — you smiled, while shaking the match you had used to light the last candle — I don't know, actually...

— It doesn't sound like that Ayurvedic nonsense you listen to during sessions — the driver slowly approached the massage table, resting one hand on it.

— It's not nonsense, Fernando, it's a way to help you disconnect and relax — you replied — Lie down.

— Edo doesn't put things like that — he murmured, as he sat on the kind of stretcher you had set up in the middle of the tent. Wearing a black coat over a white shirt and shorts of the same color, his hair had damp ends, probably from the shower — He knows that doesn't help.

— And that must be why you're always stressed — you said, giggling — Do you prefer forest sounds, then?

— I prefer the lovely chirping of a V10 engine — Fernando said, as the table he was sitting on creaked under his weight.

— Sounds of the forest, then — you concluded, taking the phone and connecting the device to the small speaker that was next to you. It wasn't long before the rustling of leaves filled the tent, contrasting with the engines and conversations coming from outside.

Putting your cell phone in your pocket, you brushed your hair away from your face as you approached the massage table, assessing Fernando's expression, who seemed bothered by something.

— Any points I need to focus on today? — you asked, resting your hands right next to his leg.

— On the left ankle — the driver replied, the crack drawing your attention to the spot below him. Moving the foot in circles, the sound repeated itself in an almost sickening way — It doesn't hurt, but it didn't make that noise before, so...

Standing next to his foot, you began moving it, trying to understand where the sound was coming from. Your fingers pressed Fernando's skin in search of the tendons and joints, the precise touch in search of what was bothering him.

After a few minutes of thorough exploration, without the driver making a sound of protest, you pressed your lips together. Although the absence of pain was a relief, unusual and frequent sounds meant there was an injury waiting to happen. And considering how much he must use that foot, having a strength problem at that point wasn't a good thing.

— Well, you aren’t injured…

— Excellent.

— Yet — you added, while letting go of his ankle — I think you'll have to do some tests when you get back home to see if you really have any problems.

— Could it get worse in the next few days?

— In theory, no, especially since you're not feeling any pain. But I'll talk to Edoardo and see what we can do. Any other points that worry you? — you asked, receiving a refusal from Fernando — So let's move on.

Turning to the small table you had requested to place your materials, you picked up the bottle that held your favorite massage oil and dripped a few drops into the palm of your hand. Then you walked back to the massage table where the driver was lying, his eyes fixed on the roof of the tent.

— Let me know if you feel anything — you murmured, before taking your hands to his calf and starting to massage it.

The movement of your fingers under Fernando's skin, searching for the small nodules where the stress and, consequently, the pain were, was something that relaxed you, in a way. Maybe it was the way you repeated the movements, the way your chest filled with satisfaction when you found a point where you could release the tension that was built up in his body after ten long hours of driving in the middle of the desert.

When you pressed a specific spot near his ankle, you heard him hiss.

— Did it hurt? — you asked.

— A little — Fernando replied, still staring at the ceiling.

— I'll be careful.

— No need — he murmured, which made you look at his face.

— Fernando…

— I’m fine, you can continue. Pain is good, sometimes...

You couldn't hold back a smile.

— Is there something bothering you? — you began, while pressing his calf muscles again in search of stress points — Or is this your way of revealing to me that you are a masochist?

The driver suddenly raised his head.

— Masochist?

You felt something warm rise up your cheeks. That kind of conversation was definitely not in the appropriate category, as your professor of ethics and deontology in physiotherapy had put it on the blackboard in one of the classes.

— It's just a guess — you replied quickly, turning to the table in search of more oil and a few seconds to breathe.

— Based on what? — Fernando asked.

When you turned back to the driver, you found him raised on his elbows. His gaze had a gleam of curiosity and something you couldn't identify.

— You just said the pain is good — you said, placing one of your hands just above his knee and below the edge of his shorts — I think it's a rather obvious hint of what you like in bed.

Fernando raised an eyebrow.

— You mean you think about what I like in bed?

A nervous laugh escaped your lips, fingers starting to work on his rectus femoris.

— Please, Fernando — you murmured, feeling your heart pounding inside your chest. That wasn't right, you couldn't think about those details about your patients, especially when it came to him.

— Come on, do you think or not? — he insisted, in a challenging tone.

— I'm not going to answer that — you just said, trying to focus on the tension points on his leg — Now you can lie down straight, I need to work on your thigh.

Lowering his head again, Fernando let out a long sigh, his eyes fixed on the roof of the tent. However, if you expected him to remain silent after your denial, you were sadly mistaken.

— I think about it…

— About what you like?

— About what you like — the driver replied, emphasizing “you”.

The statement made you swallow hard, hands running up and down his lightly tanned skin. It wasn't like you tried to get Fernando's attention all the time, quite the opposite. You always thought you were invisible to his eyes, just a face among the entourage that accompanied him during his participation in that competition.

— I wonder if you like to take it slow or if you prefer to get straight to the point. If you like to dominate or if you prefer to be at the mercy of your partner. If you like being touched or prefer to just touch — Fernando said, his voice getting lower, almost hoarse, as he explored the possibilities — I think about your eyes rolling, your mouth open, the noise you would make if I were inside you.

— Fernando — you murmured in an almost reprimanding tone.

He suddenly sat on the massage table, his face close to yours.

— Tell me you don't think about that either. Tell me you don't think about me.

You blinked, cheeks growing hotter.

It was obvious that you thought about him. There wasn't a day that went by that you didn't think about the way he smiled, the way he ran his hand through his hair before putting the white cap with black and red details on his head. There wasn't a moment where you didn't fantasize about what it would be like to kiss him.

— I — you stammered, about to give the answer he wanted, when you realized a particularly important detail at that moment. The most important thing, actually — Linda.

Fernando blinked, looking confused.

— Linda? What about Linda?

— She's your girlfriend, you're not...

He snorted.

— She's in the past, Y/N.

— But, you…

— Just answer me, do you think about me?

The air escaped your lips shakily.

— Yes, I do. All day. All the time.

Your confession made Fernando smile, bringing his hand to your face. The look you exchanged for long seconds spoke more than any dialogue you could have had. There were no ethics classes or girlfriends that could stop what was about to happen inside that tent.

And it was to the sound of the artificial rustling of the tree leaves that you kissed Fernando.

His touch was gentle at first, as if the driver wanted to make sure you were on the same page, wanting this as much as he did. And, the moment he realized that you didn't move away from his touch, Fernando deepened the kiss, his tongue touching yours for the first time.

There was something different in the way he kissed you, a kind of thirst, as if you were an oasis in the middle of that desert. His hands held your face tightly, as if you were going to run away from his touch at any moment. As the sound of the birds was drowned out by your own pulse, you were sure you would never leave that place as long as you were there. And you made sure to make that clear by nibbling on his lower lip when Fernando pulled away slightly, completely panting.

Opening your eyes, you met his green-stained gaze. That made you feel the same heat as the first day, when you introduced yourself to him as the physiotherapist who would accompany him during the competition. There was an intensity that permeated it, a glow that you hadn't identified until that moment, but that became clear in a split second.

It was desire. It always had been.

— Fernando? — you heard someone say.

You didn't have time to say anything before he turned his face away, running a nervous hand through his hair. His gaze went to the entrance of the tent, his expression undeniably tense, as if he had done something he shouldn't have done.

And, in a way, he had. You both had.

Alberto's smile as he entered the tent made his stomach turn. Did he know what you had done? Did he imagine that his best friend had just kissed the physical therapist?

— Is there a problem, Galle? — Fernando asked, in a calm, almost natural tone — Y/N is finishing looking at my foot.

— The one that's clicking?

— Yeah, that one — you managed to say, your hands cold as ice.

— Injured?

— Not yet — the driver replied — Apparently it could evolve if I’m not careful. I'm going to see Edo to do some tests when I’m back.

— Well, if you say so — Alberto murmured — The mechanics were adjusting the axle and wanted to talk to you. Are you done there?

Exchanging a brief look, Fernando knew the answer almost immediately. You wouldn’t be able to touch him again, especially after that kiss.

— Yes, Y/N is done here — he said, while you nodded — Tell them I'm coming.

Alberto just said 'ok' before leaving the tent, leaving you two alone. Fernando's gaze on you seemed to burn into your skin, trying to read your body expression and, above all, your face.

— Y/N?

— Yeah, Fernando?

— See you later? — he asked, in a low voice.

— Later?

— In your motorhome. I think we can… Continue our conversation there.

An involuntary smile appeared on his lips.

— After dinner? — you questioned, as he got up from the table.

— Don't you want me to prepare my omelet for you? — he smiled, before putting on his flip flops.

— Definitely not — a laugh escaped his lips — It's disgusting.

— It was Edo who recommended it to me.

— Because he is crazy. You both are.

— Maybe we are — Fernando replied, walking towards the entrance of the tent — See you, Y/N.

— See you.

[rosebarry16]

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟

“Between Shadows And Comfort”

Ship : Saira Spencer x Felix Neumann

(Oc x Canon)

Summary :

Saira and Adler are in separation term during the gulf war era, as she joined wood's team. saira's fine till she met felix making her falling for him, one night. They were alone in the safehouse not known they'd end up making love, felix makes her forget about her marriage mess by pleasure

This fic Includes : Strong language, partial nudity

MDNI with this page, please leave 🔞

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟

*Click!*

“The year is 1991, me and Russell got to the point of breaking up, however I still want him as he wants me. Our separation term started it and Adler is nowhere to be found after he was labeled as a traitor by the CIA. What did he do?, both line of work and marriage related questions raced in my head looking for the answers that seemed to be impossible to get no matter what fact it was.”

(Flashback at the therapy marriage)

“I'm sorry to hear that but…I have to admit you two don't work that much. I guess you two could use a separation term temporarily till you find the real answer” the therapist instructed with a hint of worriness in his eyes as he suggested the option. Adler was quiet not saying anything when he heard the word “separation”, making it so difficult for him to not believe that it might lead to permanent Heartbreak or even worse. As I looked at the paper with a few terms and conditions to sign for before processing. Me nor Adler wanted to sign it.

(Flashback ended)

“I still don't feel like I need to be reminded that Adler and I are temporarily away from each other, it feels like we are falling apart. Therefore I joined wood's team and it felt like everything was fine. Minding my business as I play my role in the team, as I met the others I met a man who is quiet and always busy working on technology. His voice, appearance, his touch l, his charm and the way he cares made me feel…attracted. Me and felix are already open to each other even if we barely met but i loved to be around him, sometimes we even unknowingly touch each other’s hand or feel either of us wrapping our arm around our waist or resting it on our shoulder, even marshall and sev are beginning to make jokes about it in an obvious flirty jokes about us.”

“Till one day, their jokes became reality”

Midnight was streaming as the moon lighted the waving ocean, saira stared at the sight in the frigid night, her lips wrapped around the cigarette butt inhaling the smoke. Her elbows rested on the cold concrete fiance, connecting her mid end of her sweater. Her black long hair flew with the wind

She looked at the photo of her and adler being just married, reminding her of the times and promises they made together Only to know some of it broke like it's nothing. Saira sighed as the photo brought her pure nostalgia of her active and young marriage

Her colored chocolate eyes filled up with water, her nose was turning red, her broken heart beated. her eye lost at the fight and gave up by releasing a hot tear,

The urge of saira wanted to break down

The feeling didn't last long when a soft touch was felt on her shoulder, she turned around to meet felix's eyes, she didn't bothered to stay at she true state but to only wanted to act like she's emotionless, the tissue swiped across her lower eyelid start to finish, drying her tear away

“The pain doesn't deserve your tears”

He stated to saira, not liking to see her in situations that makes her weak. She placed her hand on his wrist as she lets out a sign, her heart ache was still going however not severe enough to stop her from calming down. Saira loved Felix's affection of care that he gives her every now and then

“I'm sorry I just…I felt like I'm falling apart, something is definitely wrong with me”

“Would you like to get it out your chest perhaps?”

Felix suggested to saira

“Adler just thick skulled, He never thinks twice before even produce the expected Path when it comes to our marriage. We feel like strangers, we haven't been communicating a lot not even touched each other for years”

Saira explained To him in a quiet voice, her eyes never left his, additionally their hands were holding, unaware of it. Her heart beated once more for him, it's been a long time since this nice feeling. Her lips curled up in a smile as he did

After a few conversations, felix was making her chuckle. Commence to make Saira feel more cheered up, his feelings for her starts to fly up to the 7th cloud

“God…this is nice”

Her voice is smooth yet romantical, her light grip was still on felix's wrist adding to the fact His arm was around saira's should. The feeling of her soft and light skin made him want her more. Their silence were loud for a good minute

“well I hope Sev and marshall doesn't step in right now making more alluring related jokes”

Saira sarcastically said as she let out a giggle for the imagination, felix chuckled know that they would indeed start doing so

“I don't doubt it. They would make it alot in this position”

He replied sarcastically as saira did, their chuckling was alive a few moments. his Gaze pierced on her gorgeous pupils, saira's hand caressed his chest. They felt lost into each other's eyes, Saira didn't waste any second When her impatience took a toll on her, her lips landed on felix's, at first he didn't kiss back but his feelings betrayed his thoughts, allowing him to kiss back

The sound of their lips smacking made them lose their thoughts as only friends. Her lewd thoughts began to spread like a virus. Saira's Tender body sticked on his as they kept kissing. Felix Let his tongue go into her mouth, mixing their saliva more over his hands roaming her hot body. They finally broke the kiss to catch their breath

the act took to the bedroom, saira's moans started to play when felix start To kiss and suck her neck, targeting her sweet spot. her fingers ran through his hair, making him more aroused with her lewd moans. The last became more hard to handle

“fuck yes”

She murmured under her breath as he hit her sweet spot. his lips traveled through her body but by bit until he reached her lips again for a passionate kiss, he seductive yet sliced her bra laces to her mid arm exposing her shoulders and rubbed them gently ad the kiss continued

Saira reached out for the hook and eye closure, separating them to show her breast. She puts down her bra as her nice pink nipples gained freedom. His hands slowly and softly careless her tits. Saira's moaning turned on once again.

It was finally the time, saira laid on her back, separating her legs to invite felix to her nice, wet and small hole. Her juices drops. His finger wiped it up to her clit, the cold gloves material ran through her labia sending shivers to her spine and gripped a little on the pillow, a low luscious groan, he slowly started to draw circles on her wet entrance to lube his index and middle finger to prepare her before opening her,

His fingers got In, started to pump in and out creating a sticky sound, the color pink bloomed on saira's cheeks, her eyes closed following a silent whimper.

“His touch made me feel things that I was..prohibited from for years, the apathetic feeling started to make me feel ashamed of my decision. I won't make it hard for me”

Felix gripped on saira's both wrists, his member throbbed on her small clit. Their breath was a little heavy, she bite her lower lip waiting to enter her. The need to feel her hole wrapped around him

“pills or anything?”

“I'm on the pill…”

She moved her hips to comprehend her strong arousal, her smile played on her lips. Saira gasped as soon as felix enters her, him thrusting into her made her forget about Adler from amount of pleasure felix is giving her, occupying her to even remember who adler was. His gloved cold thumps brushed On her sensitive pink nipples, the coldness made her cry more. Felix groaned at the feeling. A light blush appeared on his face, his pace started to go a bit faster.

“Right there..fuck felix Your so…big and hard~”

Saira whined while she held tight to the bedsheets, feeling him splitting her open. Her pussy clenched on his hard shaft, she wrapped her arms around his neck, continuing to push In and out repeatedly.

“I see your enjoying this too much”

A chuckle escaped from felix's mouth, saira kept moaning And groaning, her nails digging Into his back creating back scratches from how good it feels. The pulse quickened so does the pace, her breathing Hitched again and again. She grabbed his hand and places it on her hair begging to pull it for her. His fingers locked in her hair and pulls it, her nipples and clit harded. She arched her back

“Oh fuck I'm gonna..”

“Yes saira..let it all out baby”

Saira got more turned on by his german accent, Both of them kept going until they reached the point, saira screamed in pleasure as she climaxed. His dick twitched inside of her and cums. She knew conception will start

“…thats it…cum in me”

He slowly pulls out and still has semen on his tip, his hot fluid dropped from saira's pussy

She catched some and flicked her tongue to taste the salty fluid.

A few moments, she clinged on him. A smile on her face with satisfaction that Adler didn't provide her for nearly 11 years, making felix the one who fulfilled her needs. They snuggled closed

“that was…wonderful”

She kissed his cheek and couldn't stop smiling, he continued to ruffle her hair

“Your welcome Saira”

…

“He made me feel so..cared and knew what i wanted, I gazed at my wedding ring, I had a bit of shame Since I slept with another man and not adler. That's okay, not all people can survive without things they need to not die”

*click!*

Hey guys!, I know it's a chappy smut but hey I tried my best lol

Let's see.. "1,807 words and 9,798 characters" wow never been able to reach this height

Anyway I really iam proud of this one I hope everyone likes it so I do hope the details gives you feelings but I guess I'm not that good at smut so..

Yeah, thank you for reading! 💖

Tag list : @fw-priyanshu

[cyberexo]

Keep it Down! | Park Chanyeol x Fem Reader

“Your head is going to end up on a stick if you don’t shut up!”

tags: @scuzmunkie • @kkaebsongwrld

word count: 1K

≪•◦0.4 🎧 0.4◦•≫

The next morning was beyond awkward it you pretended like nothing happened for his own dignity- the last thing you wanted was an intervention about how it wasn’t “inappropriate” and also you didn’t want to have to confess that it made you feel some sort of way that didn’t involve being violated or offended in the slightest.

You didn’t forget to wear something a little less revealing this morning, just to save him from feeling flustered further.

He had been silent the entire morning and through breakfast- which you weren’t expecting him to stay for but you guessed if you wanted to move forward from this, exposure therapy was the way to go.

“About last night-“ “We don’t need to talk about it,” you cut him off, “Very normal reaction, i mean.. i WAS sitting on it.” you deadpanned, eyes not meeting his, shooting daggers into your omelette and silently praying he’ll let it go.

“Right..” he breathed out, a light chuckle emitting from him, slowly looking up to meet his amused gaze and meeting with his red as blood ears, “When do you want to start on todays menu?” he questioned, completely moving on from the dreadful topic that wasn’t so dreadful (?)

Menu? what’s he talking about- oh my god

Without answering his question you quickly scrambled out of your seat, your mind entering panic mode immediately. You were supposed to start cooking already, you had everything timed the night before and now it was all a mess- at least that’s what you thought, unlike mr so relaxed who was still nibbling on his breakfast like he had eternity to finish it.

"Hurry up and scoff that down before i throw it out," half threatening the man whilst he watched you run across the kitchen with veggies & meat you needed to cut up and get cooking.

Taking a moment to take a deep breath, swiftly throwing your hair up away from your face and food with Chanyeol intently watching you, admiring how you still manage to look so effortlessly pretty even though you've just woken up and having a frantic unnecessary panic attack about food.

If he was you, he'd understand.

Snapping himself out of the much unneeded trance, he was quick to finish up his breakfast (finally) and picked up your dishes to clean up to maintain a somewhat tidy kitchen because the mess was not going to stop here.

≪•◦ 🎧 ◦•≫

Chanyeol was surprisingly not much of the klutz you thought he was when it came to being functional in the kitchen, you were able to nail down most main dishes so they’d be hot and ready on time for your familys’ arrival, you were both dreading the moment but also looking forward to all the gossip you were going to be told- even though you know it’s going to go in one ear and right out the other.

"How many are there?" "Hm?" you heard his question, but your brain didn't.

"How many family members are flying in?" he asked again in specifics, "eight, or maybe nine? who knows, they might've multiplied during the time i've spent away from them." at that he laughed, slapping your shoulder almost knocking you off your feet, you looked down at your watch trying to figure an estimate for when they’ll get here.

About an hour.

“Hey, do you mind stirring the soup whilst I go get ready?” you didn’t wait for any confirmation, already skipping out of the kitchen and into your room to pick out a decent enough outfit to welcome your family in, leaving a quizzical looking Chanyeol in the kitchen to complete the rest.

≪•◦ 🎧 ◦•≫

“What to wear..”

Standing half naked in the middle of your bedroom, you eyed your closet and it’s contents, you didn’t really have many special occasion or going out clothes since most of the time you were either in pjs or scrubs.

“This will have to do,” pulling out a black blouse that decorated with a print of red roses with a deep V cut, pairing it with black jeans.

Of course since it’s family coming over, a white tank underneath was necessary.

You were quick to throw them on so you’d have a little extra time to sort out your hair & face that was in desperate need of attention, sitting in front of your vanity you immediately got to work.

≪•◦ 🎧 ◦•≫

“Napkins, napkins, napkins-“

Chanyeol was currently going back and forth between your apartment and his, accumulating a appropriate amount of cutlery- a lot of what you seemed to be lacking however he didn’t want to freak you further especially since you were low on time so he had decided to be “generous” and lend you his own to set the table with.

His hands were a little shaky, picking up the pace to finish up on time for your familys’ arrival.

It was all sort of on cue, he could hear the echo of several voices and footsteps making their way up the stairs- his form was cartoonish, he was moving but not going anywhere, conflicted on whether to stay, quickly get his stuff and leave or just leave without a peep- he decided on the latter, closing the door as quietly as he could before leaping back into the comfort of his own apartment.

≪•◦ 🎧 ◦•≫

“Chanyeol, I’m done-“ cutting yourself off, you scanned the apartment for the tall dork- nowhere to be seen, he probably left. A part of you feeling a little sad- and also bad for not offering him an invitation to stay for dinner, he did help you an awful lot after-all.

The well prepared table did not go unnoticed by you however, a soft smile made its way to your face, a warm feeling filling your chest- but that all sizzled away as your ear picked up on the loudening octaves outside of your door.

Your smile instantly grew bigger, happy endorphins already producing, taking a quick deep breath, you swung the door open to meet the many anticipated faces, but your smile dropped as soon as it formed.

Tonight is going to be a long night.

0.5

[thygoddessouijathicc]

Legacy Gets Anxiety Meds, Becomes Normal, And Turns The Flipside Into A Dating Sim

(Disclaimer: Another Ouija joke fic as it has been proven this is the only thing I can do consistently and I have way too many ideas for it. I will get back to my standard long serious fics but not yet.

So basically as you may or may not know, I’m pals with Iral the Great, we were joking in a GC about the Legacy face as well as an old rational I made that stated the eye dilation is because of adrenaline and Legacy must have chronic stress. And then I decided to make this fic.

Also the Flipside becomes a dating sim. I just thought that’d be funny.

Gets kinda weird.)

Legacy walked down the road, blasting people as he went with his sawed off shotgun. He had recently been to therapy… it didn’t help much, he’s pretty sure the therapist quit the profession. Rude.

Well anyway, one good thing came of his therapy.

He’d been prescribed “anxiety” meds!

He couldn’t wait to get high on those.

And no there’s absolutely no way those are regular anxiety meds, psh, how stupid would that be. The therapist has got to know he’d kill them for that!

Legacy arrived at the pharmacy and shot everyone ahead of him in line like the normal, normal man he is.

The clerk trembled as he handed Jacky-Boi his anxiety meds. Legacy shot him in the fucking face. No witnesses.

Legacy took one of the pills… he vibrated, had a seizure, and glowed…

Then his face suddenly turned back to normal.

“What the shit?” Jack asks, as he sits up after his fit.

Jack then remembers everything he did as Legacy and screams in frustration. “HOW THE FUCK DID I EVEN *GET* HOT SAUCE IN MY DICK!?!?!” He yells.

Jack stands up. “Well, Furry Dave is dead, I guess I still got Cabinet Man Dave.” Jack sighs. “He’s pissed at me, since I broke my promise and then blew up my sister’s soul.” He starts walking home to go try to get back with his ex who lives in an arcade machine.

.

.

.

Jack arrives at his arcade machine, after showering to wash off the gallons of blood that was covering his body of the last 3 months.

He knows he probably can’t go in the game because… well Dave is pretty pissed and might try to kill him.

So Jack just messes around with the machine for awhile using a tutorial he found on YouTube.

Once he finishes he starts to walk around the Flipside using his new anime boy avatar!

It takes 3 hours to find Flipside Dave, and as soon as he does the encounter starts.

“Well well well, look who’s back. I guess killing your sister and later ME wasn’t enough for you you just HAVE to come back and finish the jo- Wait why do you look like that? Why do you have hair? Why do *I* have hair!? WHAT DID YOU DO OLD FUCK?!” Dave yells through the machine.

Jack uses the joystick and the buttons to slowly type, fuck he should have attached a microphone or speaker or some shit.

“I took my anxiety meds and then turned the flipside into a dating sim.” He types.

“…What?”

“I killed Davetrap and you were the next best thing.” Jack types.

“Wow. Great to know I was you second choice after my rotting corpse in a fursuit.” Dave says.

Jack notices the relationship bar in the corner, already at -345, go down to -420. Nice. Wait no not nice. Jack presses the undo button, erasing Dave’s memory of what he said last.

Dave screams. “HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO TO ME! I FEEL LIKE I JUST DIED AGAIN! Wait… you turned this into a fucked up dating sim!? Why the fuck did you even do that?!?”

“When I regained my sanity because of my anxiety meds I knew I fucked up. I knew this was the only way we could talk without you killing me.” Jack wasn’t ENTIRELY lying. He had more motives than that for a DATING sim, but it was mostly true.

“So the first thing you do is stick me in a dating sim against my will, and not try to somehow bring back your sister’s soul you OBLITERATED.” Oh shit when did Dave get SMART.

“I don’t know how to do that. And I knew I’d probably have to reconcile with you first. Maybe you could help me.” Jack types. Holy shit the relationship bar went UP. By 3 points but still.

“But wait… why do I have a… relationship bar??? Yeah I can see that by the way. I can see you too. Why did you choose a dating sim of all things to put me in?”

“I don’t know. It was the shortest tutorial?” Jack smiles awkwardly.

“So rather than putting me in any other kind of game, which you apparently could do, you stick me in a girly anime dating sim with a relationship bar, a mood metre and fucking cherry blossoms falling from the sky constantly?! Wait YOU BASTARD! YOU DON’T CARE AT ALL ABOUT WHAT YOU DID YOU JUST WANT TO-“ Jack resets.

“Ugh… that feeling again… the fuck is that.”

“Its the only type of game that didn’t have a battle menu.” Jack types.

“Well I guess that makes sense… my head hurts… You’re… doing that face again…” Jack freezes, and runs out of the room. “Hey where the fuck are you going!?” He looks in the mirror to see Dave is right, he is doing his Legacy face again…

Shit. He WAS enjoying having Dave at his mercy like that way too much. Ok, no more lying, and no more pressing reset. Jack takes another pill, and another for good measure, before re-entertaining the room.

“I’ve been lying to you. I stuck you in a dating sim because I was being selfish and wanted you back as quickly and easily as possible. I’ve been treating you like a regular game and that’s not fair to you.” He admits.

“No, it’s really not.” Ok shit, yeah, Dave is very mad at him. Relationship dropped sharply. He deserved that.

“I’m sorry Dave.”

“Not gonna cut it, Old Fuck.”

“Then what will?”

“I dunno, maybe STOPPING HIDING BEHIND YOUR ANIME BOY AVATAR AND HAVING AN ACTUAL CONVERSATION WITH ME!?”

Ok yeah, that makes sense. “You promise you won’t punch me?”

“I promise.” Dave says. Jack finally enters the machine, taking over his avatar’s body. He can still see all the dating sim stuff, but Dave is now back to his normal self, rather than the weird anime boy sprite.

“Ok, I’m here D-“ Dave immediately kicks Jack in the balls. “OW WHAT THE FUCK DAVE!?!?!?!”

“I didn’t punch you.” Dave says smugly.

“F-fine… I guess I deserved that.”

“You did. If this stupid dating sim allowed for any more than that I’d stab you.”

“…And I’d deserve that too.”

“Why’d you do it, Sport?”

“Do what?”

“All the kiddin killing, the lying, Dee-“

“Henry. He got in my head. I don’t know how. He convinced me I had to continue his legacy, and that killing your souls would set you free. It’s part of why I took out Davetrap too.”

“Look… Jack… I… I might be able to forgive you. But not yet. Just… give me time ok? And take me out of this fucking dating sim I keep choking on cherry blossoms. And I know I can’t die, but it still fucking hurts.”

“I know… I’m sorry I did this to you. The whole Dating Sim thing, treating you like a shitty video game, lying to you. I’ll take you out. You deserve better than this.”

“It’s a start.”

(Note: Ok I’m sorry this is so stupid. It ended up getting weirdly emotional and cringy. But whatever I’ll just write more meme fics to make up for my sins.)

[zestrya]

just finished reading tokyo revengers and boy oh boy.

mild spoilers ahead:

first of all, mikey is so bitchy, goddammit bro, just accept their help. i cried everytime he would insist on pushing takemichi and the others away, like bro, okay, ur curse's strong n all, but what's wrong with at least talking with them damn it! u fucked ur best friend face and ur brother died, but that's all the more reason to look for someone to lean on. he knew takemichi would try to help him no matter if he said what was happening or not, so couldn't he at least make it easier by opening the game with him.

his mentality about strong is all fucked up, for real, before he goes on about his life, he should seriously look for a therapist.

n let's not forget about shinichiro, honestly, just a pitiful guy out there who's a little messed up in the head, I'm just wondering how he didn't get worse than he already was, after watching so many people die and even killing someone with his own hands just to try and save his brother and the people he loves, honestly, he's another self sacrificing guy just like takemichi, just with a few more screws loose. didn't have to suffer through all that, tbh, but without him the story wouldn't even exist.

then.... sanzu, dude, i prefer to not talk about, so I'll just say: therapy, it's good for the mental health. a sob story indeed, but fuuck, i wouldn't go anywhere near this guy if i saw him with any sort of cutting weapon in hands. actually, scratch that, I'd NEVER take a step into this guy field of vision. he's hot tho.

the shiba siblings... I'll just pass as: taiju is one hell of a crazy fucker. bless.

koko, dead people don't return and u shouldn't be giving the cold shoulder to your friend like that. honestly, i cried so much at inupi fight at the end, he's such a baby, he didn't deserve all that, neither of them.

kazutora..................... our local psycho. damn, i don't know what to say about him, dude gave me such a huge impression, but i think that's just me liking freaks with droopy eyes. seriously tho, he was one of those that got caught in mikey's karma like a bitch, besides, how tf do you even kill someone a shift the blame to someone who's, like, never asked for you to steal nothing.

baji got swept under the rug so many times i don't even know what to expect anymore, he's so fucked up i honestly pity him a little, still, even when he's one of the characters i wasn't particularly fond of, he's one of the quirkiest among the founders bunch, and definitely, hes not easy to forget since chifuyu makes sure to remember about him every damn time.

and chifuyu to close, for now at least, basically he's a simp. jk, man, was he one of the characters that evolved as the story went on, i got a little pissed at his attitude sometimes, but he's the man to get your back, too bad his spotlight on the last fight wasn't too big, but i like that we can see how much he takes after takemichi, never giving up as long as there's someone who's still standing, in this case, our precious time leaper. he's definitely the right choice to be narrating the last chapter.

and just remembering all that I'm crying all over again, definitely it wasn't something I'll regret reading, and will probably be rereading after some time, it won't be the same feeling, maybe i won't even like it as much, but i can't deny that i got attached.

I'll be finishing this one by here, maybe i'll do another going step by step on my fav characters, but for now all i will say is.

the finish may have been lazy or forced? maybe, but i wouldn't have it any other way. for our crybaby protagonist and his legion of gangster i wouldn't anything more than the happiest ending, even to the more lunatic ones yes taiju/sanzu, i'm looking at you. they already suffered enough, they paid their prices, so at least that ending was a moment of respite to then.

i almost forgot, but what the heck where the first gen even doing in the middle of the kids fight? like.... wakasa and benkei, aren't you even ashamed????? you guys retired years ago. dude, the fight left them, but they haven't left the fight it seems.

[cqlfeels]

hello fellow lqr fan!! do you mind sharing more about why you like lqr? he needs more love :)

Hello fellow fan! LQR does indeed need more love, and he deserves it, too!!!

Like every single character in this story, LQR is a hot mess in need of heavy duty therapy. Which, given I love would-make-a-therapist-quit 3zun, is obviously something I appreciate about him. I don't think he's processed the whole QHJ situation anymore than JC has processed the WWX situation, and oh boy does that influence how he raises the Jades. He's doing his best to be a good parental figure but there are so many unaddressed issues getting in the way of him being as good as this as he clearly wants to be. I say this because I often see people conflate his mistakes in raising the Jades with his entire being, which strikes me as a bit unfair since that's not generally how we treat anyone in the Sunshot generation.

But anyway, none of this is why I love him so much, I just wanted to get that out of the way.

The reason why I think he's profoundly underappreciated is mainly because he's so, so, so moral. You can't possibly accuse him of not doing his best to be as good a person as he knows how to be. It's fair game to disagree with his worldview, but very, very few characters are as earnest about their beliefs as LQR is. He sincerely believes with all his heart that the way he's living life is the most virtuous way and he does that not because he has any sort of agenda, it really is as simple as wanting to be a good person because being a good person is the most honorable of goals. He's not particularly after power or prestige or ego trips or an easy life. He knows being righteous is a narrow road and the work is never finished, but he tries as best as he can to stick to it with a sincerity that I find very touching. Compared to other people of his generation, there's something disarmingly pure about LQR. When he gets things wrong, you can be sure it's still coming from a place of good intentions. The only person I can think of who is as heartfelt and unwavering in their convictions is XXC, though of course, LQR is basically a Confucian scholar, while XXC is a follower of Daoism, and these two can be at odds.

Anyway, whenever I think of LQR, I'm reminded of the Analects 12.14-15, which one translation renders as

Fulfill your office untiringly, perform your duties with loyalty. . . . Once a junzi (1) has studied broadly in patterns and constrained them with li (2), indeed he will never turn his back on them.

(1) Junzi 君子 – often used to denote an ideally ethical and capable person; some-times simply meaning a power holder, which is its original sense.

(2) Li 禮 – the ritual institutions of the Zhou, of which Confucius was master; the range of behavior subject to the broad category denoted by this term rang-es from political protocol to court ceremony, religious rite to village festival, daily etiquette to disciplines of personal conduct when alone.

This is an extremely Confucian way of seeing the world and LQR is very intense about it. Once you have learned the way it is proper to act, it's unethical to turn aside from it. And after a lifetime of studies and reflections (which are different skills, both of which LQR is shown to regularly attend to), LQR is fairly sure he knows a fair amount about how it is proper to act, and he doesn't allow anything, be it external pressures or internal turmoil, to deviate him from these things. I don't think that's a particularly healthy or even wise way to live, but I can respect the hell out of him for his commitment to his understanding of his duty as a man, a scholar and a teacher. I just... Look, he's doing his best and he's genuinely trying to be a good person, and I don't know how to not find that admirable, whatever his flaws might be.

[justsomeclintasha]

Clint is coping. Of course he is.

And he’ll be fine on his own for a week.

After all, there are other people in the Tower that can help him.

At least that’s what he tells Natasha.

He has no intention of talking to them.

A month after New York, it still doesn’t feel like home. This isn’t his family. These people aren’t his friends. It’s fine.

She leaves for a mission.

His room feels empty without her.

Sleep doesn’t come.

If he wasn’t so weak, he could have fought back.

If he wasn’t so weak, Coulson would still be alive.

If he wasn’t so weak- he wouldn’t be gripping a bottle of the same brand his dad drank before he wrapped himself around a tree.

XXXXX

Her text messages go unanswered.

Steve knocks on his door. He yells out that he’s fine and the captain gives up. They don’t know each other very well. What is he supposed to say?

His phone chimes again.

He turns it off and throws it on the floor.

Rage bubbles up in his chest. How could she just leave and act like everything is normal? The news is still covering the destruction. Shield is reeling from the loss of their agents. Of Coulson. And she pushes on and goes away like it’s just another day?

Fuck her.

He still wants her to come home safe.

Frustrated tears sting his eyes.

It’s not her she’s angry with.

He pulls her pillow close and cries.

XXXXX

It’s not fair that he can’t hear.

He used to. And then his old man got drunk and hit him harder than ever- pummeled him until his ears were bleeding and he thinks his mom was screaming but he doesn’t know because everything was muffled and hot and bloody-

He wakes up in a cold sweat that reeks of whiskey.

His mom would be so disappointed.

XXXXX

There’s still time to clean up.

Time to pretend he’s alright, that he had a lazy week without her. Lie about watching Dog Cops and ordering pizza.

He should take out the trash.

Wash the dishes.

Do some laundry.

His stomach cramps as he clutches the porcelain of the toilet and heaves.

Who is he kidding?

The garbage can is filled with empty bottles and he hasn’t showered since yesterday.

He’s a fucking mess, and she’s a master spy.

XXXXX

It’s late afternoon when her key turns in the lock. He’s still on the couch and doesn’t turn to face her. Footsteps pause in the kitchen, then enter the living room.

“I shouldn’t have left.”

Tension hangs in the air. He doesn’t know how to deal with this. She tries again.

“Come on. Up.”

“Go away, Nat.”

“No.” This time she kneels in front of him, and he avoids her eyes. “Come on. Shower. I’m not asking. You smell like that gross whiskey.”

Reluctantly, he follows her to the bathroom, shame radiating off him in waves. Neither of them talk as he strips and steps into the shower. She sits on the bathroom carpet. The water is hot.

He scrubs his skin so hard it hurts.

XXXXX

The next day she cleans. Empty bottles are thrown away, full ones are dumped in the sink. He watches from the living room.

Eventually he finds the energy to make them sandwiches for lunch. It’s simple, but somehow exhausting.

A heaviness sits on his chest and shoulders that he can’t quite explain. He doesn’t have to. She moves him back to the couch after lunch and he sleeps.

With a start, he wakes to a hand rubbing his ankle. His feet are in her lap. Dog Cops is playing on the television like nothing ever happened. One of her favorite candles is burning on the kitchen counter. The house smells clean and cozy. He doesn’t know how long he slept.

“I ordered pizza for dinner.”

“I couldn’t do this without you, Nat.”

“I’m sure you have them on speed dial,” she says, trying to make a joke, but it falls flat as she wipes away tears.

The skin around her eyes is red and puffy.

XXXXX

“I’m going back to therapy.”

“I think that’s a good idea.”

He brings it up over coffee, knowing that he’s most honest when he’s tired, and he hasn’t even finished his first cup. Neither of them sleep past six. The first rays of daylight are just starting to peek through the clouds.

“I blame myself, for a lot of things. Recent things. Things in the past. And.. I’m not dealing with them in a healthy way. I need help.”

He holds up a hand as she opens her mouth. “I mean I need professional help. I love you, Nat, and it’s not fair to dump all this on you. There are..” It’s hard to say, but he has to. He swallows. “There are people around me who care. And people who will help me. I have to acknowledge that and admit that I can’t do this on my own.”

Her fingers brush his cheek, tilting his head to look at her.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers. Her voice wavers, and for a moment, he wonders if she’s going to cry.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” A shaky laugh leaves her lips and she pulls him in for a hug. He’s pretty sure she’s crying now, and he might be, too. Screw it.

Sometimes things are hard.

That doesn’t mean they have to do it alone.

[theladyofdeath]

Heels {Rowaelin}

The prompt: walks in front of their crush in stripper heals and a short skirt because they want their attention

Rowan x Aelin os

Written with @snelbz​

There was no way this could be a good idea.

Aelin was sitting on her bed, watching as Lysandra flicked through her closet. She had told her that tonight was the night and had recruited her to help her do what she considered nearly impossible.

She was going to get the attention of Rowan Whitethorn.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know she existed, it was quite the opposite. He was one of her friends, having met during orientation week their freshman year, and as their group grew, so did their friendship. But after three and a half years, she had very solidly gotten her stuck as just that: his friend.

“You’re wasting your time,” Aelin crooned, flipping through the timeline on her phone. 

“Bullshit,” Lysandra muttered, flipping through the clothes in her closet. “You need to feel confident, Aelin. Rowan is obsessed with you, and you’re obsessed with him. This whole thing is ridiculous.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, but remained quiet. 

“How about this?” Lysandra asked, pulling out a denim mini skirt and black halter cropped top. As Aelin was about to reply, Lysandra said, “Say nothing. Put it on.”

With a roll of her eyes, yet again, Aelin did as much. Once she had the skirt and top on, she looked in the mirror. 

And she looked hot as hell.

“Shoes?” Aelin asked, despite herself. 

“Oh, I have the perfect heels,” Lysandra said, fleeing from the room. She came back a moment later with a pair of black stilettos that were Aelin’s  size. 

Scoffing, Aelin held them up. “I’m going to break my neck.”

Lysandra snorted and flounced back into the bathroom where she continued to straighten her hair. “You’re exaggerating.”

“Fine,” Aelin amended. “I’m going to break my ankle.” She set the shoes on her bed and joined Lysandra in the bathroom to finish getting ready.

She let Lysandra curl her hair, but drew the line when she offered to do her makeup. They had very different styles when it came to that and while Lysandra looked drop dead gorgeous with her cat-eye liner and ruby red lips, Aelin would never be able to pull it off.

“Where is this party even at?” Lysandra asked, pulling her hair back into a stylish ponytail.

“Lorcan’s.” Aelin was trying to keep her hand steady as she applied the thin line of liquid eyeliner to her upper lid. “I think Elide convinced him to throw it.”

Lysandra snorted, applying her mascara.  “Sounds right. Lorcan isn’t exactly the host-type.”

Aelin grinned, tossing her eyeliner in her makeup bag. “Alright, hurry up. I want to make my entrance.”

With a roll of her eyes, Lysandra took one last look in the mirror and declared herself ready and they were off.

Lorcan’s apartment was just on the edge of campus, so the two girls walked and earned the eager glances of many as they did so.

Aelin took it as a good sign.

“Will Aedion be here tonight?” Lysandra asked, shooting a glance over at Aelin.

She groaned. “Probably.” She still couldn’t believe that her roommate actually had the hots for her cousin. He was practically her brother and the thought of him in any sort of compromising position made her want to gag. “If you hook up with him tonight, please do it at his place. I can’t afford therapy on my barista’s salary.”

“Trust me,” Lysandra said, adjusting her ponytail as they approached the steps to Lorcan’s. “I plan on giving you complete privacy at the apartment tonight. And you better take advantage of it.”

Butterflies grew in the pit of Aelin’s stomach. 

She planned to, hoped to, wanted to…but, she had to catch Rowan’s eye first - something that made her nerves go haywire. 

Lysandra must have caught it, because they stopped outside of Lorcan’s door and Lysandra made Aelin face her. 

“You look gorgeous,” she said, and brushed Aelin’s hair back. “He’d be an idiot not to come after you.”

That was the goal, after all. Aelin was not going to be the one doing the chasing. She wanted Rowan to see her, want her, not be able to take his eyes off of her. She knew he’d be here, the party was at his best friend’s apartment, knew that everyone from their friend group would show up. Yet she was absolutely fucking terrified he’d see her and have zero reaction.

She played it off with a joke though. Scoffing, she tossed her hair over a shoulder. “He’d better. I didn’t book an emergency appointment with my waxer for nothing.”

If Lysandra noticed the fake bravado — which she absolutely did, she and Aelin had become as close as sisters over the past three years — she didn’t call her out on it. Instead, she smirked, smacked Aelin on the ass, and said, “Then let’s go get your man.”

The music could be heard from a block away, and when they opened the front door, the apartment was already packed.

People definitely noticed them come in, though, including Elide who was running towards them, a drink in hand. “It’s about time you two showed up!”

“The host himself isn’t here to greet us?” Aelin mocked, giving Elide a hug.

Elide chuckled as she rolled her eyes. “He’s been out on the balcony for about a half hour, avoiding all human interaction.”

“Sounds about right,” Lysandra replied, rolling her eyes, but then she began looking around the spacious townhouse Lorcan and Elide shared. “You haven’t seen Aedion tonight, have you?”

Elide gave Aelin a knowing glance, but said, “Last I saw, he was playing beer pong with Fenrys. Don’t know who the poor bastards getting their asses handed to them were, but they’re probably still in the kitchen.”

Lysandra gave Aelin a wink. “Good luck.” And then she was gone, lost in the bodies dancing to the music.

Her part in tonight was done, to help Aelin get Rowan’s attention. It was all up to Aelin now, so Lysandra was free to find someone to occupy her own time. Even if the thought of who she’d be with made Aelin want to shudder.

Alone with Aelin, or as close to it as they could be, Elide let out a low whistle as she finally took in Aelin’s outfit. “I have a feeling that outfit isn’t just to impress me.”

“Does that mean you’re not impressed?” Aelin asked, pretending to pout. 

Elide looped her arm through Aelin’s and led her to the bar. “I’m always impressed, but I don’t think you care so much about my opinion, do you?”

Aelin snorted as she began to look around, but Elide saved her the struggle.

“He’s on the patio with Lor,” Elide said, simply. “Don’t worry. I’ll drag his ass back in here soon and Rowan will follow.”

Elide poured them both a shot, which Aelin gladly took and even asked for another. But when Manon and Asterin Blackbeak showed up, she waved Elide off to go greet her friends, and leaned against the bar, debating on a third shot.

She wasn’t trying to get shitty tonight, just a little messy, but her nerves were beginning to grow again.

Just as she decided to say fuck it, and get another shot, and heard a whistle from behind her. She turned and found Dorian Havilliard staring at her legs.

Or maybe he was staring at her ass.

They had messed around her freshman year, when his dorm room was just down the hall from hers, but it had never been anything more than that between them, and they agreed that they were better as friends. It didn’t mean they didn’t have fun though.

She smirked as she tossed the glass back and set it down on the bar top, before turning to him. “See anything you like?”

“I see quite a few things I like,” he said, raising his drink in salute. “Then again, only a fourth of your skin is covered, so there’s a lot to look at.”

Aelin laughed, quietly, and clinked her empty shot glass against his full bottle. “Gotta show off what the gods gave me.”

“As you should,” he agreed with a wink. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

“Well, it is school, and I actually study,” Aelin said, turning to refill her shot glass.

Dorian had the audacity to look offended. “Hey, I study, too.”

Aelin laughed as she turned back around. “Reading a bunch of books that have nothing to do with any of your classes doesn’t count as studying, Dor.”

“But they’re so much more interesting,” he replied, chuckling as he thought of the boring curriculum he studied for his pre-law degree.

Aelin rolled her eyes as she tossed back the shot and set it behind the bar. Four shots was enough. She’d be fun, she’d be confident, but she wasn’t tipsy enough to make an ass of herself.

Yet.

“I assume all of this skin isn’t for me, so who are you trying to impress?” Dorian asked, and then added, with a wink, “Chaol?”

Huffing a laugh, Aelin shook her head. “Absolutely not. That ended in a disaster and I’m not inclined to repeat it.”

The sliding glass door opened and Aelin’s eyes snapped to the door, before she quickly turned away before Lorcan and Rowan stepped inside.

“Oh,” Dorian chuckled, softly. “Whitethorn then.”

It wasn’t a question.

He had moved imperceptibly closer and she knew how it would look to Rowan. For whatever reason, she decided she wanted him to be jealous she was talking to another guy.

Even if she had no idea whether or not he’d even noticed her.

“Is this who I am now?” Dorian asked, quietly, leaning into her ear, fully aware that it looked like he was coming onto her. “Your super hot wingman?”

Aelin snorted, and didn’t bother moving away. “My overly cocky wingman, maybe.”

Dorian huffed a laugh. “I still take it as a compliment.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be flirting up Manon instead of fake flirting with me?” Aelin whispered, quietly. She glanced at Rowan, who was filling up a red solo cup.

“I like to make Manon wait,” Dorian said, running a finger up Aelin’s forearm. “She gets jealous, too, and it makes things so much more exciting in the bedroom.”

“Thanks for the image, Dor,” Aelin said, pushing away the need to roll her eyes and flick him in the nose.

He and Manon weren’t exclusively in a relationship, but everyone knew they hooked up with each other, and only each other. But, again, totally not exclusive.

“Besides,” Dorian mused, his finger skimming Aelin’s arm. “She’s busy doing body shots with Asterin. I’ll enjoy her later.”

Aelin snorted, reaching behind the bar and pulling an ice cold beer from the open cooler. She handed it to him and he opened it for her, flicking the cap in the air as if it were a coin.

He let it fall to the bar top as he leaned in to whisper in her ear one last time. “Pretty sure that’s my cue.”

She followed his gaze across the room, and found Rowan looking at her. Watching her and Dorian both.

“Have fun,” he added, before sauntering off towards the kitchen.

Rowan watched Dorian walk away to the other side of the room where he sat to watch Aedion and Fenrys continue to dominate in beer pong.

When Rowan’s eyes trailed back to Aelin, she was already watching him, a slightly-forced mischievous smile on her lips.

On the inside, she felt like she was going to puke.

He made his way across the room, pausing in front of her and slipped his free hand into his pocket. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” she said, and she wasn’t sure why it sounded so breathless.

“I didn’t see you get here,” he said, taking a sip of his beer.

She did the same, fighting the urge to toss her hair over a shoulder. “You were outside.” She realized that told him she was keeping tabs on him and she quickly added. “I mean, Elide told me Lorcan was outside, so I assumed you had to be with him.”

He smirked. “Right. Well, I was. It’s a little crowded in here.” She nodded, but he went on. “However, seems like you didn’t mind when Havilliard was over here with you. Not too crowded for you, then, huh?” 

Aelin slowly lifted a golden brow. If Rowan wanted to play, she would play. “Not crowded enough for someone to be blocking your view of me with Dorian, apparently.”

A light lit up Rowan’s green eyes as his jaw twitched, suppressing a grin. “I can always count on you to manipulate my words and their meaning, Galathynius.”

Aelin’s grin was wide. “Someone has to keep you in your place, Whitethorn.” 

“And is that you?” He asked, voice low as he took a drink from his cup. “The person that’s going to keep me in my place?”

Aelin’s eyes glittered as she took another drink. It was always easy with Rowan. They could talk for hours, that witty banter, back and forth. But, that’s all that had ever happened between them: simple conversation. 

From the way she caught him watching her legs as she took a drink, though, she thought tonight may just end up as she planned.

A hell of a lot more than simple conversation.

“Want to dance?” She asked.

His eyes slowly slid up her body to meet her gaze. “You know I don’t dance, Ace.”

She took a long, slow drink from her bottle. “Not even with me?”

“Not with anyone,” he said, crossing his arms and resting a hip against the bar.

It was a miracle no one had interrupted them, but the bulk of the drinks had been set up in the kitchen.

“That’s a shame,” Aelin sighed, finishing off her beer and tossing the empty bottle in the trash can. “I would love to dance, but I don’t have anyone to dance with.”

Rowan said, “I’m sure you can find someone, especially with how you’re dressed tonight.”

She raised an eyebrow and looked at him. “And how is that?”

“Don’t get me wrong, you look drop dead fucking sexy,” he replied, without missing a beat. “I just don’t get why.”

“What do you mean?” Aelin asked.

“Why try so hard?” He asked, head cocked to the side. “Who are you trying to impress?”

Cocky bastard. She could see it in his eyes, he knew what he was doing and she hated him for it.

Hated that she loved it, anyway.

“What need would I have to impress anyone?” Aelin asked, chin raised. “I think I’m naturally perfect in every way.”

Rowan chuckled. “Then you should’ve come in your sweatpants and a tank top.”

Aelin rose a brow.

Rowan shrugged. “I think that’s when you’re sexiest.”

With that, with his cup pressed to his lips, he turned and walked away.

Aelin blinked after him, not sure she was sure she heard him right. He made his way through the people and headed back to the door leading out onto the balcony, stopping to say something to Lorcan. He waved him off and then Rowan was slipping back outside, while Aelin just started after him.

She pushed her way through the crowd, which was easier said than done when you weren’t a six-foot-four giant who mildly scared the shit out of everyone by scowling at them, but she eventually made it to the door. Sliding it open, she stepped out into the balmy night air.

“You can’t say shit like that and then just disappear,” Aelin said, finding him exactly how she’d expected to.

Rowan was leaned against the wall, the sole of one booted foot pressed against it as well. A lit cigarette dangled from his fingers. She gave him shit about smoking all the time, but knew he only did it when he drank.

Or when he had something on his mind.

He held the cigarette out to her, but she gave him a look. “You know better than to offer me that.”

Rowan just grinned and put it back between his lips. “You’re missing the party.” 

“What did you mean?” Aelin asked, standing opposite of him, leaning against the railing. 

“When?” he asked, looking up at the sky.

“Don’t bullshit me, Rowan,” she snapped, and it got his attention. 

Blowing a puff of smoke into the cool night air, he met her gaze and slowly shook his head. He gestured to her outfit, to the heels that were making her feet ache. “What is this?”

“They’re clothes,” she said. “For a party.”

“They’re Lysandra’s,” he replied, simply. 

“I can’t wear my roommate’s clothes?” Aelin scoffed. “What the hell is wrong with you tonight-.”

“Why can’t you just admit that you’re just trying to impress someone?” he interrupted, watching her, that light in his eye fading. “You’ve never been not-confident a day in your life. Whoever it is that you’re trying to impress, he obviously isn’t worth it if it causes you to be someone you’re not.”

Aelin looked down at the cropped halter top, the skirt that hardly reached her thighs, the heels that she was certain would cause blisters. “This is someone I’m not?”

Rowan slowly shook his head. “Last time we went out, you wore that little golden slip dress….” He shook his head, reminiscing on the memory. “That was you. You wore sneakers and you were still barefoot halfway through the night, dancing on the patio. What you’re wearing now - yeah, you look gorgeous - but I can tell you’re not comfortable in it.” 

“If I’m trying to get someone’s attention, maybe my usual isn’t best. Especially if it pushes me out of my comfort zone,” she snapped back, her hands on her hips. “And why is it such a problem if I’m trying to impress someone? Dorian was impressed.”

“Dorian doesn’t drool all over you like a dog in heat,” he replied. “He respects you, regardless of what you’re wearing, how much skin you’re showing off. But if you’re trying to impress some D bag who will only notice you if you’re dressed like that, you might want to reconsider.”

“And what if I was trying to impress you?” She asked, getting in his face, cigarette smoke and whiskey breath be damned. “What if I was trying to get your attention, Rowan?”

His jaw locked and his eyes searched hers, as if he was trying to find the underlying meaning in what she was saying, even if there wasn’t one. 

“Then you’d be wasting your time,” he said, at last.

It felt like a knife had been shoved into Aelin’s ribs with every word that had come out of his mouth. Begging herself not to cry in front of him, she went to take a step away, but Rowan grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him.

Their chests were nearly touching, and his hand trailed from her wrist, into her hand, interlocking his fingers with hers.

He took the cigarette from his lips and said, “You’d be wasting your time because you impress me every time that I’m around you.”

“You never act like it,” she breathed, shaking her head. “You never do anything, and you’ve never tried to make a move. What the hell else was I supposed to do?”

He flicked the cigarette over the rail and let go of her hand, only to frame her face with both of his. “This.”

And then his lips were on hers, and Aelin didn’t care that she could taste residual smoke or stale beer. She knew she didn’t taste much better. All that mattered was that Rowan was kissing her and his hands were on her face and hers were tangled up in his shirt. His tongue slid against hers and she had to fight to stop the moan that threatened to slip out of her.

He pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. “That,” he said, breathlessly. “That is what you should have done to get my attention.”

Aelin swallowed, harshly. “Do it again.”

Rowan didn’t have to be convinced. His hands slid down her back as he brought his mouth to hers, and he pulled her body uptight against his. They stayed out there for a long time, for hours, uninterrupted. 

At one point, she saw Dorian come by and lock the balcony door, so everyone else would get the hint to stay the hell away.

Wingman of the year.

They stayed on the balcony, kissing and laughing and kissing some more, until the party wound down. Around two, Lorcan let them inside, and Aelin pulled Rowan out of the apartment and across campus to her own. 

True to Lysandra’s word, she was nowhere to be found.

The second Aelin stepped into her apartment, she kicked off her heels and was swept into Rowan’s arms. He carried her into her bedroom, where he stripped her down, out of her roommate’s clothes.

Rowan Whitethorn saw all of her.

She had his full attention. 

[sparklefics]

Warmhearted

Prompt: y/n falls asleep in Bucky's lap and Bucky has a conversation with Sam while stroking y/n's hair as if they were a cat.

Bucky X F!Reader featuring Sam Wilson

A/N: Domestic fluff

*** Gifs not mine

Bucky brushes his hands through your hair as you nap on his couch. He looks down at you lovingly. You are using his thighs as your pillows, the sight warms his heart. Life had gotten a little bit easier now that he really started trusting people. Well, he started with trusting Sam, that's how he met you. You are a childhood friend of Sam's.

Sam introduced you to the stoic man because he knew you were single -at the time- and Sam didn't want Bucky flirting with Sarah. As soon as Sam made the introduction Bucky made it clear that he was only being extra friendly with Sarah just to annoy Sam. Sarah was in on it, it was actually her idea.

So here you are months later, napping on your boyfriend's couch.

Sam comes into the room and starts talking to Bucky about their latest mission, finding John Walker. The guy vanished after the whole ordeal with the Flag Smashers in New York. Sam and Bucky, Team America as you like to call them, have been trying to keep tabs on Walker since they know he took that new super soldier serum Karli planned to use to build her army. Chatter has been quiet so there is no new information on Walker.

"So, I see things are going well here." Sam comments, his eyes landing on Bucky caressing you while you rest.

"Yes. Things are really good." Bucky says.

"You better not mess this up. Y/N is a very special girl. I will kick your ass if you break her heart. I didn't let you flirt with my sister because she's got kids and you're not ready for that."

"I won't." He says very seriously. "Yeah, definitely not ready for kids maybe one day though."

You start to stir and slowly open your eyes. Bucky is smiling down at you, his fingers still stroking your hair but feels like he's actually gripping your heart. It makes you want to melt. Unaware of Sam's presence in the room, you extend your arms and pull him down for a hug, nuzzling the side of his neck. He smells divine, to you at least, he smells like musk and cologne. It's fucking hot, it makes you almost moan in his ear. You lick and suck at his pulse point and finish it off with a bite. He hums in approval.

"Darling," Oh god! His voice is so low in your ear, it's doing things to you. "Sam is here."

Your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Thank god Bucky stopped you from going further, otherwise Sam would've gotten a front row seat to some vivid images no amount of therapy could erase from his mind.

"Well good morning miss Sleeping Beauty!"

"Hi Sam!" You scramble to get your bearings together and sit upright on the couch. "You're back early? Is it early? How long was I out?"

"It's only been one hour." Bucky responds as he drapes his arm around your shoulder and drops a kiss on your temple.

"Do we have any intel on Walker?" You ask Sam. You know they've been worried about Walker going ape shit again.

"Trail's gone cold but we'll find him." Sam assures you. "Now let's go get some food, I'm starving!"

[mamabearcat]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

Thanks @clearwillow, @anisaanisa, @neutronstarchild, @ruddcatha and a nonny too!

How can I pick my five favourite word children? It's gonna be difficult, but I'll give it a red hot go. Let's see. Most of my favourites have part of my history woven in there, my experiences as a wife and a mother and just living life generally. So yeah, these fics may not be the ones that are the most popular or the ones with the most kudos, but in all of these, you get to see a little bit of me.

Song and Dance Man

Kagome in this is me, and Inuyasha is my husband, before we got married. We had a very similar argument, because that one time I took the Depo Provera injection was no joke. He didn't sing and dance for me, but he did write me poetry, and he sat and beside me and watched every Jane Austen movie he could get his hands on.

The Importance of Ramen

This fic is just one big therapy session. I'm still working on chapters, and I even have the sequel planned. Suffice it to say, Mama in this fic is me. One day I might write her story as well.

Welcome to Fatherhood

The only Natsu and Lucy fic on this list, not because I don't love the others, but because I was only allowed to choose five. Natsu in this is my husband, who was there for every minute of the births of our three children. He loved babies, and often paced the floor holding a wailing burrito-wrapped child, making up lewd lyrics to lullabies. He very rarely lost his cool, even when I became a weeping mess. Babies are adorable, but they are such hard work.

Inuyasha and the Princess

Because Inu would be a wonderful Dad. Once again, it has shades of my husband, who was also a wonderful dad. He also never did the evening bedtime songs, and the reason my middle girl has never wanted to finish reading The Hobbit may have something to do with him being a little too enthusiastic with his Gollum impression during a bedtime reading.

Get Through This Day

Another example of bad things that happen to good people. Even though this fic doesn't go into too much detail and focuses mostly on the birth of Inu and Kagome's second child, it talks about miscarriage, something that I have been through myself. I don't think people talk enough about it. It's actually very common, but it's like a big secret that you can't mention. I know we didn't tell many people, and I wish we did, because I really could have used the support. Not that my husband wasn't amazing at the time, but it was very hard to grieve and not show it outwardly.

I've seen a lot of posts of this already, so even though they've probably already been tagged, I'm going to nominate @splendentgoddess, @knittingknots, and anyone else who wants to join in!

[thelonewolf48]

MSHD Episode 4 Season 3

As always, spoilers ahead!

I need to continue watching cuz dad isn't gonna watch anytime soon and I really don't want to get spoiled... more than I already have. So, let's watch!

This time I'm not watching with the English subs because I do want to make separated posts about the subs... But if you want me to check them or any particular dialogue, just let me now!

This will be my live reaction and not a rewatch! So, let's go!

Let me see if I understood correctly... After 3 episodes and probably like a week or maybe 2 weeks? A month? Both of them are already thinking of what to say to each other's families because oops, you know what? I'm not gay/into this woman? Excuse me. What?

And I see where they are going now! Not even a minute into the episode and they will have to keep pretending to be a couple or they will lose their LGBTQ+ investors... I'm.... Not even a full minute and I'm rolling my eyes...

WOW! For a hot second I forgot when Cynthia and Pablo got together! Then I remembered they're business partners with benefits....

They're not dating but they get possessive and jealous...

Ana and Mariana make a quite long(? I guess? Because I don't know how long it takes to reach there) travel by car and they don't use the air-con? RIGHT... RIGHT... But then, in the next wide-shot they windows are up... I see you editing errors, I see you! LOL

WE GOT LIKE ONE MINUTE OF THE MAIN PROTAGONISTS WTF!

Also, I feel a little bad for Victor... Like poor him, trying to make his father proud and just getting scolded by him. I feel you man, I feel you... And then he will fight with Tere, I'm seeing the future!

I still don't understand what's going on with Juan Carlos. Can someone explain me? I'm- I know maybe they doing this as a joke and so we can laugh at him a little but, it's not funny and we could cut it out and still would make sense

I feel absolutely disturbed with whatever it's going on that therapy? thing... WHY DO THEY HAVE TO DO THAT TO HIM? Is it meant to make him feel better? I would walk out deeply offended. Therapy or not, they shouldn't do that to him.

Disturbing and cheap writing and it's not even funny.

The gaslight Victor suffers, it's one very familiar. Is it a Mexican thing though?

And no, it's not a sign... and a relationship shouldn't start that way. Writers want to sell me that JC finds love after this whatever weird ass thing happened and that woman likes him because he cried?

The room that the lady gave our girls gives me war flashbacks to when my family and I used to go pass some days with relatives in quiet and really small town. We used to rent some house that was small, like it only had one room that acted as a living, dinning, bedroom, and kitchen and another that was a VERY small bathroom

Something like that, Mexican people might know around where I live now because of this lol But anyway, later on my relatives added more rooms to their house and eventually always stayed in a room very similar the lady gave them! (I miss those days)

Anyway... Don't tell me they have sex while drunk...PLEASE DON'T TELL ME... UGGHHHHH

I mean, I'm surprised Victor and Tere are the only adults these season... They communicate, they understand, they talk, they try to deal with stuff even when it's not easy.

Kudos to them!

"I like who you are. Well, what I'm getting to know about you" says that woman which name slips my mind to Juan Carlos... Errr, excuse me, you don't know him. He could be really bad for you! Never believe it! Run, JC, run! LOL

Drunk Ana is cute though.

She wants to write a romance novel, about her and Mariana. And she says it while looking at Mariana THAT way

AND THEY KISSED!!!!!!!!!LASKJDHFSJHDFJSDHFDS

AND THEY

I mean, once my sapphic/shipper heart recovered... I want to say this episode is just BAD. The only thing I can save from it is Victor and Tere. Cynthia and Pablo are just a mess too. JC jumps from woman to woman (like a person I know) while not finishing to process the break up and his failed marriage. Gives me the impression he just doesn't know how to be alone and love himself, he has to have someone to show him some love so he can move on.

And, fine! I love that my ship moved forward and kissed but I HATE THAT THEY HAD TO BE DRUNK AND AWKWARD THE DAY AFTER. If from here things changed, a little awkward but still moving towards love, fine... but if they throw me Ferran again and they go separate ways Imma flip.

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter twelve - “it’s hovercraft time, bucky barnes”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2.4k

synopsis: neither bucky nor y/n can sleep... until they do. and the next day brings them an unexpected, but pleasant surprise.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

It was four in the morning when the psychologist and the super soldier got in their respective beds after the nightmare. Y/N laid on her side in the bunk across from Bucky, facing away from him and staring at the wall. Her body wanted to sleep but her mind kept whirring on and on, worrying about him.

It wouldn't be that bad if she could just ignore it. It wouldn't be so bad if she wasn't wide awake also thinking about how it would be utterly impossible for him to have any eye color other than blue.

She sighed. Christ almighty, just go to sleep.

About twenty minutes passed before she heard it.

"Why are you still up?" he mumbled.

She turned over to her other side, dramatically, staring at his silhouette in the dark.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"I'm a trained assassin," he said, as a matter of fact. "I can recognize breath patterns."

"Yeah, well I know for a fact that you aren't even trying to fall back asleep."

"How could you possibly know that?" he repeated her question.

"I just do," she stated before turning on her back and staring straight up.

He scoffed playfully.

"What?" she asked.

Her tone wasn't as playful. It wasn't angry or annoyed; she could never be with him. But, it was void of emotion and her usual sarcastic cadence. She didn't enjoy people reading her like that. She knew he wasn't, but it felt like she was being called out for caring so much. She wanted to rein in her own compassion, but she couldn't help the way he softened her.

"That's just code for 'I'm a trained psychologist and I know how you're gonna react to nightmares.'"

She replied with silence, desperately trying to end the conversation so she could try to sleep and leave this night behind.

"Sorry, did I- did I say something?" he asked.

"No, you're good."

Part of her felt bad for being short with him, but she needed it to be over. She needed to somehow distance herself from her own feelings.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up with the nightmare and messed with you being able to fall back asleep. I know it's... a lot."

He's sorry. He's sorry?

"Don't you dare apologize. It's not your fault, and it's not even why I can't fall back asleep."

"What's the problem then?"

"It's nothing. Just try and get some sleep."

"Yeah... about that..."

"Will you have another?"

"Not  sure. I don't wanna find out."

"I know. And I'm sorry. Sleep shouldn't be this menacing, but you should still try anyway. Your body needs it."

"So does yours."

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh. There she went caring again and he kept deflecting. Her frustrations about her own emotions came out in stubborn defiance.

"I'm not sleeping until you do."

"Guess we're both stayin' up then."

"Bucky," she gently admonished.

"Y/N I can't- that... was the worst one I've had in a while."

That was it. Any and all aggravation faded to nothing, and her cheeks were hot with guilt. To hell with it; she refused to leave him to pain. She then got out of her bunk. Carefully, she maneuvered out and kneeled on the floor, facing him. She felt bad; she didn't mean to push him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry, I should know better."

He mirrored her actions, slipping out of his own bunk and kneeling on the floor in front of her

"It's okay," he didn't miss a beat. His voice was as soft of hers. "Thank you."

He was closer now, so she could see a more detailed outline of him. She never really noticed just how large he was. Just his arm looked as big as her head. He was supposed to look frightening, but... she just couldn't see it.

"If you don't wanna sleep that's okay. I'll stay up with you so you don't have to be alone."

"Y/N..."

"I'm already up, I don't mind," she countered. "Seriously. I'm wide awake now. Honestly, I don't even know if I could fall back asleep if I tried."

"I can't ask you to stay up and babysit just 'cause you feel bad."

She scooted forward, determined not to lose to deflection again. Babysit? and Cause you feel bad? How could he truly think so little of himself?

"I am definitely not babysitting. I just happened to be awake at the same time you are... and not because I feel bad."

He scooted forward a couple inches, squinting, trying to decipher her facial expressions. "I can't tell if you're joking or not just from your tone of voice."

In the very back of her head it returned: that hazy enchantment feeling that swelled from her lungs through her brain stem every time she was this close to him. It is important to note - it was in the very back of her brain, and if you ignore something long enough, you can convince yourself it's not there.

"James Buchanan, I am awake and there's not a thing you can do about it."

"Alright," he sighed. "I don't know if you're expecting some kind of entertainment, but I can't really juggle with one arm..."

"I can't juggle with two."

"Ever been to the circus?"

"No."

He laughed. "Oh man, you're missin' out."

"No, I got the clown right here."

"Wow, is that how it is?"

"Depends. You got face paint and a rainbow wig?"

"Smartass."

The air was quiet after their breathy laughs fizzled out. A few moments of awkwardness quietly passed, both unsure of what to say next.

"You know when you're in the dark, your pupils dilate to take in as much light as they can in order to see better?" Y/N asked.

"I think I knew that? I'm not sure, I might've heard it somewhere. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. I can't see your face super well, so it made me think of it. I can barely even see your eyes."

"Maybe that's better," he chuckled. "I don't know if they're still blood shot from earlier."

"Like I'd care."

"Why wouldn't you?"

"What?"

"Why wouldn't you care? I feel like seeing someone's puffy face and post-cry eyes would be kinda gross."

"You really think I care if your eyes are red or puffy?" she questioned. "Buck, I know I'm probably not supposed to say this because technically I'm your doctor, but I honestly consider you a really good friend. I'd be more worried to see that you've been crying than be aversive to it."

He scoffed in honest disbelief.

"What?"

"I just can't wrap my head around the fact that you think that way about me..."

"What do you mean?"

"...the person I am, the things I've done, the..." he shook his head, "the horrors I've committed..."

"The horrors you've committed are not who you are. I know you see yourself in a lot of different ways because it's hard to un-learn what other people have decided you are: a monster, a ghost, an asset, a machine, an assassin, a weapon, whatever. But have you ever considered that you're just human after all? You're a man who got dealt a shit hand in life. But there is still light in him... light that never left, no matter how hard they tried to beat it out of you. You're a survivor, Buck."

Bucky took a deep breath in, contemplating, before turning and laying on his back. They both remained on the floor, Y/N kneeling a few inches away from the side of Bucky's supine figure. He stared straight up at the ceiling.

"Sometimes I think I'm a better 'ghost' than I am a human being. My mind's a mess, and even though I'm trying, I still can't help but feel like I've lost who I am."

"You haven't lost who you are. You're just different now, and that's okay."

He looked up at her. "How do you always know what to say?"

"I know everything."

Y/N smiled, following Bucky's laugh, allowing the somber atmosphere to lighten up a bit. They so easily slipped in and out of the therapy dynamic, but now it seemed more like a heartfelt conversation between friends rather than treatment between doctor and patient.

"I consider you a really good friend too by the way - closest one I've had since Steve."

"Wow, really? That's an honor."

"Not really," he chuckled. "Steve's a punk."

And there she went laughing again. In one way or another she always found herself laughing around him.

However, she found it more confusing than funny when she woke up the following morning to find herself sitting on the floor, leaning against one of the beds with Bucky's head in her lap. She found her hands resting on his head protectively, fingers slightly carded through his long hair. She woke up before him... That's a first.

Y/N looked down at him. He was fast asleep; he looked peaceful and so relaxed. It was such a rare state to see him in, so she gave herself a few more seconds to study how his face looked when it was completely tranquil before she smoothed her hand along the back of his head and replaced her lap with a pillow.

-

"Hey," a raspy voice called out.

Y/N turned around from her seat at the table, hands still wrapped around the cup of tea she made herself a few minutes prior.

Bucky was awake, sitting up, but still in his previous spot on the floor.

"Hey. You want some tea?"

He stood up, nodding and stretching his back. "Did I fall back asleep?"

"You did," she smiled. "I'm pleased. I told you you needed the rest."

He seemed pleasantly surprised. "And on the floor too. Very classy."

She raised her mug to him, as if to make a toast. "Classiest man I know."

He laughed before grabbing the kettle and realizing it was empty.

"Shoot. We're outta water."

"It's alright. We know where to find the waterfall. You want to go get more?"

"Mm hm."

"Alright, I'll just finish my tea and go out in a few minutes."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm coming too."

"You sure? You just woke up. You can take some time to just relax if you want."

"No. I'm going."

"Stubborn. I can go myself, you know. I know the way."

"Would you let me go by myself?"

Y/N was silent for a moment before sighing.

"Get your shoes."

-

"You know, there was really no reason to almost push me into the water," Bucky commented as they were making their way back to the shelter after restocking their water supply.

"I wasn't actually going to!"

"You might as well have! My life flashed before my eyes!"

"Bet that took forever. You wanna backtrack? I can do it for real this time."

"I'm throwin' you in next time."

"You couldn't throw me," she challenged.

"Like a football," he countered, smirking.

"I don't wanna test that theory."

Their banter continued as they continued walking, making sure they were in the tree line and not out in the open. Bucky was always cautious. He was able to laugh with her while still making sure they were safe. That was until his arm was suddenly around the front of her shoulders, and holding her against his chest as his back was flush against a tree, effectively hiding them both from sight. She just stared forward, barely registering how fast he swiveled both of them around.

"There's someone at the bunker. I'm sorry- didn't want us to be seen."

He removed his arm, but her feet were stuck. She had never been close to him like this before; she didn't know what to think of it. She stepped forward a bit, breaking the contact but still facing away from him. She was hyperaware of their proximity but that quickly dissipated as she registered what he said.

"What did you see?"

"There were a couple people, but I didn't get a great look 'cause I moved out of sight fast. One woman, two men? I think."

His tone and demeanor reminded her of that day Shuri told them they had to go in hiding. He was so calm and collected. She forgot situations like these were practically muscle memory to him.

"Do you think someone found us? What were they doing?"

"I only saw 'em for a second, I'm not sure. Stay still, I'm gonna look."

As soon as his head peaked around the tree, so did Y/N's, ignoring his order.

"Wait, I think that's Shuri."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure. I don't know if I'd bet my life on it."

"What's that other thing?"

"The hovercraft?"

"Hovercraft? God, I love this place."

"Wait, see the crest on the hovercraft - that's the one only Shuri can unlock."

"Alright, just... stay behind me. Okay?"

"Okay."

The two slowly made their way towards the three Wakandans. Y/N actually listened this time and stayed behind Bucky. As soon as they were in sight, Shuri came running up to them.

"Y/N!" she exclaimed, immediately throwing herself into the psychologist, embracing her.

She was startled at first, arms awkwardly hanging by her sides before her brain finally caught up to her and she brought her arms up lightly, returning the hug.

"Shuri! What happened?"

"We won!" Shuri grinned. "It's a long and complicated story, but the rightful King never died. My brother has reclaimed his place on the throne. Wakanda is ours once again!"

A monumental weight was lifted from Y/N's shoulders. She sighed in relief, knowing she was no longer in danger, knowing Bucky was no longer in danger.

"That's incredible. I'm so glad everything's okay, and I'm so glad to see you."

"I'm glad to see you too, my partner," Shuri hugged her once more before addressing Bucky. "Sergeant Barnes. I'm sorry for all the trouble. I hope everything was alright?"

"We've been getting along just fine," he nodded. "Thank you."

Shuri called over the two other men - royal guards that came with her - before turning back to Y/N and Bucky.

"You've been camped out here in hiding long enough. Let us go home."

As they walked behind the Wakandan princess, Y/N nudged Bucky with her elbow.

"It's hovercraft time, Bucky Barnes," she managed to say through a face numbing smile.

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance

[ivysimagines]

Hey, love. 💞 I hope you’re having a WONDERFUL day! Can I request a Blurb w/ JJ x Fem! Reader? The Reader is John B’s younger sister, and it’s the Hot Tub Scene? JJ and the Reader planned on being married in the future. JJ fantasized buying her a gargantuan engagement ring, but the pair acknowledged they wouldn’t be able to afford it. However, alongside the Hot Tub, Generators, and Delivery, he bought her an engagement ring too? Angst w/ Fluff, please? Thank you! 💞

of course I can! sorry it took me a bit to get to this. I’ve had bad allergies n haven’t been in the mood to write. anyways, the scenario isn’t exactly the way it is in the episode but i made it pretty similar.

pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem! Reader

request: above.

warning: mentions of abuse, cussing, angst w/ fluff, and underage drinking.

-

Title: Catch

-

(thoughts are in italics and bold!)

I sit in the backseat of Pope’s truck listening to trees rustling and the tires driving over the old rocky pavement.

They seriously need to get this road redone.

“Guys, this has gotta be done before my scholarship interview in the morning” Pope says.

I roll my eyes.

Will he ever shut up about that?

Like, he’s smart as fuck.

You’ll get a scholarship somewhere.

“Oh my god, Pope” i say, making it clear i’m annoyed.

“What, Y/N?”

“Guys, no fighting” kiara adds while reaching for her seatbelt buckle.

Okay mom.

Pope parks his truck near some trees.

We all unbuckle our seatbelts quickly and hop out.

Pope and Kie are talking about the plan to get the gold.

I hate that John B gets into this shit.

This is exactly how our dad died.

He can’t die or I’ll have no one.

I walk to the back of the truck and slip my phone into my back pocket.

I lean against the truck while Pope and Kie talk.

I shoo away some nats.

“Damn nats” I say as I kill one.

I hear Kie laugh a little.

Suddenly a shit ton of lights come on around us.

We hear a whirring sound.

“What the hell?” Pope says.

I look over to them and back at the lights.

“Who the hell is that?” kie adds.

We all begin walking towards the center of all the lights hoping to find whoever the fuck did this.

I walk behind them and we hear a cork pop.

I cross my arms and nearly trip over a stick.

We stop and I see it’s my boyfriend, JJ Maybank.

“What did you do JJ?” Pope asks him clearly concerned.

JJ smiles a little, “i’ve got a jet going straight in my butt right now.”

“Y’all should get in immediately, you hear me?”

He grabs three glasses and pours the champagne.

I can tell he’s avoiding looking at me.

“Salud!” he says as he raises the champagne.

“How much did this cost?” Pope asks.

I look back and forth between Pope and JJ.

“Uh. well, with the generator, the petrol, and oh, hey, express delivery...uh, i’d say pretty much all of it”

“All of it?”

“Yeah, all of it”

He looks over at me and then back at Pope.

“You spent all of the money in one day?”

“Yeah, burned a hole right through my pocket. But I mean like, come on guys, like, look at this! Finest in jet-based massage therapy, at least that’s what they told me.”

I stare at JJ with a look of disappointment.

JJ looks over to me.

“Babe, what?” JJ asks.

“Can’t a man have a little luxury in his life! C’mon, all this scrimpin’ and scrapin’..i mean like...guys, we- y’know you only live once, right?” JJ says.

I look at Pope and Kie.

“Like, y/n couldn’t you use some fun in your life? You’ve been all down and shit since your-” he stops himself before finishing his sentence.

Asshole.

“Alright, enough of this emotional shit. Get in the cat’s ass. Come on.” he adds.

“In the what?” Kie asks.

“...in the cat’s ass. That’s what i named her” JJ says while looking off to the side.

It’s quiet for a maximum of 3 seconds.

“Oh, hey, yo, i almost forgot-”

JJ reaches forward and flips a switch and it turns on some disco ball.

“Yeah, that’s right, i know. Disco mode, baby” he says.

“Are you kidding me?!” Pope says in an agitated tone.

“You could’ve paid for restitution!” Pope yells.

“Or literally given it to any charity!” Kie adds.

“Or added it to a fucking fund to get the hell out of here!” i yell.

JJ looks right at me.

“Or bought supplies to get the rest of the damn gold out of the well!” (pope)

JJ turns away and rubs his face.

“Okay, well, you know what?” JJ yells.

He stands up revealing purple and red marks on his stomach.

All these different thoughts began racing through my mind and I could feel my heartbeat speeding up.

Oh my god.

He said things were getting better at home.

...i’m gonna kill that motherfucker.

How can he do that shit to his own fucking kid?

Maybe it’s a good thing my mom dipped and my dad’s dead.

“I didn’t do that!” JJ yells.

“I got a hot tub! For my friends- you know what? No, screw friends. I got a hot tub for my family!”

I look at him and tears start forming.

He looks over to me.

“And, I got something especially for you” he says as he reaches into his swim trunks pocket.

I look at him and he pulls out something small.

“Catch” (JJ)

I open my hands and catch a ring in my hand.

I take a look at it.

It’s not just any ring.

It’s a gargantuan engagement ring.

Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit

I look up at him.

“JJ…”

It’s silent for a few seconds.

I walk over to the hot tub and step on the ladder.

I get inside with him as he rants about ‘everything being fine’.

I pull him into a tight hug.

He starts crying into me.

“I love you” i whisper into his ear.

I rub his back.

It’s quiet as we hug.

Kie and Pope get in with us and we all hug JJ.

“I just wanna do the right thing and I thought-” he says.

“We know, we know. It’s okay, love” i say.

After a few minutes JJ calms down and Pope and Kie leave us.

*now sitting on the edge of the hot tub talking to JJ*

I mess with the ring in my fingers.

“JJ...I don't need some fancy ring” i say.

“I know, but I wanted such an..important ring to be nice”

I look over at him.

“So, this is an engagement ring?”

He smiles at me and nods.

“I know we’re still teenagers and...obviously you can’t exactly get parental consent. Plus, John B would totally kill me if we got married this young. But, we can still be engaged.” he says.

I smile at him and look back down.

“You know, you haven’t asked me”

He sighs and laughs softly.

He takes the ring from out of my hand and looks at me.

“Alright, Y/N Routledge, will you make me literally the happiest man in the world and marry me in a few years?”

I smile at him and bite my lip a little.

“Definitely, one thousand percent”

He smiles and grabs my left hand softly.

He slips the ring onto my ring finger and then places his hand on my face.

We kiss a couple times before I pull away.

I look at the ring on my finger.

Holy shit.

I’m like...engaged now.

What the fuck?

I contain my excitement and just smile.

“So, we could get married when we turn 18...or whenever using our share of the 400 mil and then get the fuck out of here. Away from the obx, away from the pogue bullshit, just...everything” he says.

I stare at him for a few seconds.

“Okay, as long as we can get a dog”

He smiles and nods.

“Named willow?”

“Of course, whatever you want” he says.

I smile at him and we kiss again.

We continue our night together and eventually head to my house.

-

Hope you enjoy!

Once again, request whatever you would like.

I will also be experimenting with thing like ‘dating ___ would include…’ (i love those types of things lmao)

I might start writing a lot for atypical since i’ve gone back into my atypical phase (13rw as well but idk if ima write for that series or not).

Thanks for readinggg!

Upload schedule:

Monday @ 10 am (EST)

Wednesday @ 3 pm (EST)

Friday @ 8 pm (EST)

There may be random uploads here and there.

If you request something I will upload it on one of those days.

BYEEE <33

[himbo-beel]

A cranky Barb? Hm, wonder what that would look like?

You could tell how hard Barbatos' day was just by the sound of his foot steps. The way he slammed things around, making sure to do it just right so it wouldn't be too soft or too loud.

What made the fact so obvious was the poor demons constant grumbling. Sounded as if he was damning everyone and their mother to the very depths of hell and beyond.

He didn't bother to take his outfit off, nor did he bother to take his shoes and gloves off. Instead he decided to stomp around, complaining about one thing to the next.

He tries calming himself down, however, he doesn't do it the correct way? Barbatos thinks that doing what he normally does, would help calm him. But he was wrong, it just made him angrier. The more the man cleaned the more upset he felt.

The more he scrubbed, polished, waxed, or rinsed. He felt more and more ashamed. The thought of even finishing the dish he was holding made his blood boil.

The sound of crystal hitting the floor, the shards shattering and dancing upon the tiled surface. When you walked in, he was standing there; staring at the mess he had made.

Those glistening eyes never left that spot, yet his hand reached for another dish. A cup this time, but atlas; it doesn't matter what he grabbed because it was shattered to floor.

Calling his name doesn't help, if anything it makes him react faster. Grasping another dish just to bash it on the ground along with the others. Slamming his foot down on any pieces that were still too big for his liking.

It now looks as if he's standing on a thin layer of ice and snow. The ground sparkling and twinkling below his shaking form. Frustrated, hot tears pouring from tightly lidded eyes.

Oh Barb was tired, he was oh so tired. Dealing with everyone else's b.s, their hurtful words and ridiculous requests. It was all to much stress on one demon to carry.

His fists were clenched tight, broken chuckles that turned into sniffles and sobs.

You guided him to go sit down, then you cleaned his not so happy little accident. Perhaps also reminding yourself to get that boy into some well needed therapy.

You know, it wasn't until the middle of writing this, was when I actually re-read it and was like

Huh, he was supposed to be cranky- not mentally unstable baby that thirsts for the tears of his en- Friends.

Lol that did take just a liiiitle bit of a left turn that’s for sure but just know that if I’m ever in an angst mood I’m grabbing this and running with it cuz it’s gold.

I mean it’s perfect! Barb, who’s very composed and in his prime while he’s in the kitchen - it’s practically his own throne room, the one room (aside his own) where he lords while his actual lord roams about his halls, looking down on the staff and choosing his own terms and conditions while there -

And just breaking all of it. I’m sure his face doesn’t chance, still set in a cold, placid, expression with just the slight upturn of his mouth as he slams another plate to the ground. Cracks he can’t show himself but are widening anyway splinter across the plate and cries he can’t shout are thrown against the wall as a glass shatters against one of them.

He doesn’t clean it up, either. Not that night, anyway

[the-bau-quinjet]

And I confess, babe

Part 6 of In Breakable Heaven!

Summary: Feelings are confessed... sort of.

Warnings: none 

Word count: ~2400

“There’s something I haven’t been completely honest about.” You blurted out taking a break from cleaning. It had been a few months since Halloween, and you and Spencer have hung out whenever possible, but never calling anything a date. You had both gotten pretty busy with the holidays, but still made time. He is basically your best friend, but you want more than that. You just aren’t sure he feels the same way. 

Spencer turned from where he was reading on the couch immediately mirroring the nervous expression he could see on your face. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything. That’s what friends are for.” Ugh, friends. This is so confusing. As he walked up to you, you thought you noticed a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but you brush it off. You need to focus.

You have never told any of your friends about this. It’s almost like you were living two lives and all the sudden you wanted them to merge. Well, really you just wanted an excuse to sing love songs to the man standing in front of you without completely freaking him out. “You know how much I love Taylor Swift, right?” You could see the confusion growing on his face 

“Um, yeah. That’s not exactly a secret…” he chuckles as he searches for the truth in your eyes. 

“Well, um... I kind of... well… it’s not really a big deal, but I… you see…”

 “Y/N, just tell me. I promise not to freak out.” He interrupted, the confusion evident on his face.

“Okay, just… I’m inaTaylorSwiftcoverband…” You blurt, the words rushing from your mouth. You cover your face with your hands. Of course, boy genius understood the mess of a sentence you just said, realization slowly dawning on him.

 “Y/N, why were you so nervous to tell me?” He sounded shocked. “You know I would support you no matter what. When’s your next show? I would love to go see you perform.” The sincerity in his voice made tears well up in your eyes. 

You rushed to hug him as you said “I don’t know why I was so nervous. I guess people can be really harsh when you are a Taylor Swift fan. Nobody takes you seriously, ya know? I started the band because her music made me better at conveying my emotions. It was actually a kind of therapy for me at first, but then I fell in love with performing. I actually wanted to tell you so I could invite you, and the rest of the team, to my next show. It’s Saturday night.”

 He ran his hands up and down your back before pulling away to look you in the eyes. “I will be there.” He said, matter-of-factly. 

“Yay!” You were practically jumping with joy that the conversation went well. It felt kind of stupid to be so worried over other people’s perception of your music interests, but you’ve always been self-conscious of being the “weird” girl. It made even the smallest decision so hard for you. “I want you to invite the rest of the team, but keep it a surprise. I haven’t told Penelope, and I’ve known her 2 years longer than you.” He laughed as you realized how comfortable you must have felt with Spencer to be inviting him and his friends to see you perform. Usually the only way you made it through was knowing there was nobody in the audience that would recognize you enough to make fun of you. But, it was time for a change. You have always been proud of your accomplishments, and the people you called your friends should be a part of that.

 “You should know there’s always a theme to the show. I like to tell a story with her songs, pulling from all the albums helps make it more cohesive.” You wanted him to be a little bit prepared for what you had planned. 

“What’s the story for this show?” Spencer asked, curiosity brewing in his mind. 

“Well Doc, I’m afraid that’s a secret. You’ll have to wait and see.” Spencer kept pestering you to find out the theme, but you refused to tell him. Finally, he returned to reading as you cleaned the rest of your apartment.

--

 Saturday came much faster than you were expecting. The nerves you felt kept growing as you tried to finalize the set list you would be performing in just a few hours. The stories you usually tell don’t normally rely so heavily on your own life experiences. But, that’s why you fell in love with Taylor’s music in the first place. The songs are so relatable. It’s incredible how well she can convey emotions and stories with her lyrics. Plus, this is your chance to tell Spencer how you feel without having too much pressure. If he doesn’t say anything about the obvious theme, you could just pretend you made up the story for the audience. It would be fine. No pressure at all.

 The hours until your show drifted away as you got ready and arrived at the venue. You were actually playing in an auditorium instead of a bar for the first time in a few months. The night had been heavily marketed for couples since Valentine’s day is next week, but you knew your friends would all be there to support you. Going over the set list with the band, they knew exactly what mood you were going for. It was clear there were three sections to the night: 1) the break up, drawing heavily on your experience with Drew, 2) moving on from the failed relationship as you form a new crush, possibly on an incredibly hot doctor, and 3) where you wanted this new relationship to go. That storyline is what made the marketing so good. Couples could come and just be in love, relating the music to their own lives. Plus, people were itching for something to do since no real artists were touring in DC right now.

 You glance out at the audience as the lights flicker, indicating only a few minutes until show time. You find Spencer and the rest of the crew, barring Hotch and Rossi, easily as you put them in the front row. You wanted to be able to see their faces, or completely look over their heads. It all depends on the expression of the one and only Spencer Reid.

 “Hello, and welcome to the show!” You try to hide the nerves. You’ve done this plenty of times, but knowing who is in the audience is taking a toll. “In case you didn’t know, with every show I do, I try to tell a story. Usually, it is based on a movie or a book, but today I am trying something a little bit new. No book, no movie, just a story. It’s got three parts to it. Part one sucks.” You laugh along with the audience. “It’s about a breakup and learning to move on. So let’s get started!”

 You immediately jump into the first song Babe. Technically it features Taylor Swift, but she wrote it so it counts. Plus, it is the perfect song to describe your feelings to finding Drew cheating on you, and she did write it.

 This is the last time I’ll ever call you Babe.

 “Now, I know how hard it can be to get over someone who you’ve been with a long time. Especially when combined with the pain of them cheating on you. This next song describes that mentality of recognizing that someone won’t change because you want them to. Sometimes, the best thing to do is cry and scream and move on.” The instrumental to You’re Not Sorry begins to play as you calm you’re nerves.

 This is the last straw. Don’t wanna hurt anymore. And you can tell me that you’re sorry, but I don’t believe you baby like I did before. You’re not sorry. No, no, no no.

 “I know, I know. No more sad songs! After you break up with someone, it can be pretty hard to not miss what you had. But eventually, you’ll get to a point where when they call you in the middle of the night, all you have to say is We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together. Like ever.”

 You make it through the next song without a hitch. The crowd is clearly enjoying the show, which is actually helping with your nerves. You’ve glanced at your friends a few times, but nothing that lingers. You’re not quite mentally prepared to look at Spencer yet.

 “With every breakup, there is some amount of time afterward where you can’t help but think about them. No matter how badly it ended, there is at least a day. It could slowly fade out or it could just disappear one day, like magic. Either way, this song is how I personally feel once that window of time ends.”

 I forgot that you existed. It isn’t love, it isn’t hate, it‘s just indifference.

 This song really helped turn the mood around. Everybody is dancing and singing, clearly enjoying themselves. As the song ends, your nerves return a bit. This is the scary part.

 “And with that, we move on to part 2! As the saying goes, the best way to get over him is to get under someone else. Well, that’s not exactly where this is going, but it follows the same general logic.” The instrumental to Enchanted has already started as you finish the intro “Meeting someone who helps take your mind off the bad by making new memories.”

 All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you. This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go. I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home.

 This is the first song you are singing directly to Spencer, even if you can’t even look at him. You glance at every other member of the BAU, but you just can’t bring yourself to admit it to him. Not yet.

 Please don’t be in love with someone else. Please don’t have somebody waiting on you.

 You can feel the sting in your throat that comes from thinking of Spencer being with someone else, finally making you look at him. He seems happy. He’s not dancing as much as everyone else, but he is swaying. You count it as a win.

 “Now, I’m not saying the only way to get over a breakup is a new relationship. Sometimes, you just need a friend.” You clear your throat to go right into the next song.

 Wanna hang out? Yeah, sounds like fun. Video games, you pass me a note. Sleeping in tents. It’s nice to have a friend.

 This is where it’s supposed to be obvious who you are singing to. None of your newly formed friends really know the extent of your relationship with Spencer. But, you’ve convinced him to try a lot of new things. It started small, with hiking, but eventually you got him to agree to a short camping trip over a long weekend. It was freezing since it was November, but you just cuddled together around the fire. That is what makes this so nerve wracking. You are terrified of messing up your friendship.

 “Friends are the best resource post breakup. They always know how to put a smile on my face, no matter what I’m upset about. You could go so far as to say I’m Only Me When I’m With You.” You laugh at the corny joke, knowing that’s the next song you’re singing. “To be completely honest, this is kind of a story of the past few months of my life. I had a pretty bad breakup, but I met some new friends who really helped me through it. It’s nice to be completely honest about yourself with someone else.”

 I don’t try to hide my tears, my secrets, or my deepest fears. And through it all, nobody gets me like you do.

 “Now, we move onto the third and final part of the show. We’ve covered the past and the present, so all that’s left is the future! The future is unknown, which is kinda of scary when you think about it. So, it can really help to have someone who makes you feel Fearless.” So many lyrics make you want to stare at Spencer.

 I wanna ask you dance right there, in the middle of the parking lot.

-

Run your hands through your hair, absentmindedly making me want you.

-

And I don’t know why, but with you I’d dance in a storm in my best dress, fearless.

-

You’ve decided against looking at Spencer and the rest of the profilers. If you make eye contact you know they would 100% be able to see right through you. Just two more songs to get through. You don’t even pause to talk before the next song is playing.

 Cause all I know is you said, “Hello” and your eyes look like coming home.

 You’ve spent so long thinking about Spencer and his perfect freaking eyes that you subconsciously glance at him right then. The second you realize, you look away again, missing the look of complete adoration on his face.

 And meet me there tonight and let me know that it’s not all in my mind.

 “Alrighty folks, I’ve got one more song for you. You probably could’ve guessed it by now, part 3 is about a future relationship, one I’m not currently in. But that’s the thing about the future, you never really know what it holds.” This is where shit goes a little bit sideways. You didn’t plan on changing the lyrics. Most of the profilers seem to miss it, not recognizing that you switched one very crucial word in the song. The one profiler that notices the mistake has spent the last four months listening to every Taylor Swift song ever written because he’s spent so much time with you, and you are always listening to something.

 Dark jeans and your converse, look at you. Oh damn, never seen that color blue.

 Oh damn is right. You somehow manage to make it through the rest of the song, but now Spencer knows you were singing to him. You can’t decide if you’re glad it’s out there or if you are going to puke the second you run off stage.

 “Delicate is about the beginnings of a romance. It’s that point where you are scared any sudden movements will shatter everything you’ve built so far.” You take one final deep breathe. “It’s about admitting your feelings because you can’t move forward without taking the next step. That’s what the future is all about. Thank you all for coming, goodnight!” And with that, you left.

 tag list:

@mac99martin​ @goldeng1rl8​ @eevee0722 @l0ve-0f-my-life @haylaansmi @dinonuggets15 @laurakirsten0502 @green-intervention @burnin-passion @takeyourleap-of-faith @secretpickleprofessordean @awkwardnesshabitat @loveheathens @fan-girl-97